The blog, she is neglected lately. I just don't have the inner tormoil I use to have. No inner conflict to write about. Plus, there is facebook. I document my life there so here is neglected.

BUT. I am still a busy bee. Being a wife, mom, nurse and now foster mom.

WIFE

I love being married. I love being Mrs. Hall. We've been married 12 years now and he still rings my bell. No better way to start my day then standing in the kitchen, holding hands with him and praying. Love it!

MOM

3 kids now

Pancake-age 10.

She is so smart and kind. Very much her own girl. Owns a cornsnake, likes bugs and dirt. READS CONSTANTLY. Goes to Zumba and yoga with me and we do inverted headstands together. Starting to show some tween tendencies of self consciousness and shyness. My plan is to use prayer and yoga to GET HER THROUGH THE TEEN YEARS. That and making sure she has plenty of time with her girlfriends so they can be silly and giggle and giggle and silly. She's such a jokster!

Mac-age 6.

Every morning we say 'MAC GET DRESSED!' and 'MAC, EAT YOUR OATMEAL.' Ten minutes later we'll find him sitting there, shirt on backwards, having taken two bites of oatmeal lost in his own little world. He'll smile and say, "If twins don't live in the same house, do they have the same birthdays?" or "How do arrows know how which way to point?" He's a thinker that one. A silly, jokster thinker who never sits still. Like if Plato was a hummingbird.

River-age 5 months

OH THIS BOY OF MINE. I am over the moon with him. So squiggly, so smiley, so baby chubby thighs and giggles. The photo says it all!

NURSE

Psychiatric Mental Health Nurse Practioner actually

I still have crazy patients and moral dilemas, but there are less so these days. I have found a groove and really enjoy my work. I get to guide people through their crisis and help them heal. It's humbling work. I am very blessed.

FOSTER MOM

The abstract idea of 'being a foster family' started as a whisper in my heart. I heard the whisper, talked it over with Mr. Hall and we prayed. We prayed to let God guide us, let him reveal the opportunity and we would answer his call.

I can't help but giggle about it all. I can't believe how God has changed me through this process. Being a foster mom comes with so many challenges. But challenge makes the heart grow. Our family system has changed too. The kids are use to the other kids that come into our life. They adjust and grow too. Sometimes it's not pretty but in the end, it's amazingly beautiful.

So far, one child has been with us for over a year (on weekends). Another came here a few weeks ago.

It's a task of loving without expectation. We never know when these kids might leave our life. So we love them now, while they're here. We don't know what will happend. So we give them hugs and prayer and warm meals. These kids are great and challenging. I hope OH I HOPE they benefit from seeing Mr. and Mrs. Hall loving each other and treating each other right. I hope they feel God's love.

And it's not just the kids. These kids have bio-moms and bio-grandmas. They are hurting too. Sometimes the bio family members call and it's totally awkward. We help the kids make art projects to bring on their family visits. We send photos and emails. We say, 'he had a great time at the zoo this weekend' or 'She really liked going to the library with us.' We keep things light and positive in one of darkest situations ever.

It's the ultimate task of not judging. Because God didn't call to us to judge, He called us to be shining examples of His light and love.

SO

that's my comings and goings. howzit with yous?

Hallucinating at the dentist's office

The wee babe, now two months, wakes up every 1-2 hours for food. He does this 24 hours a day. Needless to say, I am sleep deprived. Zombie sleep deprived.

However, life doesn't stop just because you have a newborn. There is laundry to wash, hungry older kids to be fed and root canals to canal.

Stupid root canals.

I woke up about 10 minutes before my dentist appt and drove half asleep to the office.  I knew I was in trouble when I got in the chair. I couldn't wake the frick up. I had been up all night with Mr. Thirsty. HEY. That's what we should call the new baby in this blog, Mr. Thirsty!

Also of note, my peripheral vision wasn't coming in right. Like tunnel vision.  Then I realized I hadn't eaten in over 18 hours. I should have pounded a coffee and a muffin before I left. Shoulda, woulda, coulda.

Anywho-they started by  injecting stuff in my cheek then laying me down to let it set up. Which didn't help. I started to have sleep dips when they left me alone. I started to panic. I needed to be awake so I could keep my mouth open. So they could do the flippin root canal.

At this point, I started getting giggly. Then, the dark outer edges of my vision started getting sparky. Yep, I was hallucinating sparks at the dentist's office. Then, my boobs started to leak. That special kind of leak that nursing moms get. Thankfully I was wearing boobie  pads and didn't leak through my sweater. Score!

At this point I decided not to fight it. If I was going to spaz out and go absolutely insane, I needed to let it be. So, I settled back with my sparks, my sleep dips and my leakiness.

Good times people, good times :)

Mr. Thirsty is almost ten pounds now. He was born a little sprout, five lbs five oz. He was little enough to warrent a week's stay in the NICU. I can't tell you how happy I am he's grown so much in two months time.

The past weeks have been such a blur. But I'm so greedy for all of this. I want to remember this blur, this tired, this non stop feeding. I cradle his head in my hands and just sob sometimes. We worked so hard to get him. Two years with two miscarriages and then his pregnancy took. I was so pukey for 5 months, then came the migraines and back pain.

His pregnancy was the hardest of them all-physically, mentally, emotionally. We won't be pregnant again, Mr. Hall has been taken care of. Which I'm not suppose to blog about so there Mr. Hall, I'm not blogging about it.

So all of this- the tired, the hallucinating, the happy happy booby buffet feedings-- I keep it here to read over and over and  remember years later. And for Mr. Thirsty to read when he is older too.

In other news, our second son is here

 

This is our second son. He was born little and not without complications.

 

 



 

The complications were little too. They only required a week in the NICU.

Then he came home to the waiting arms of these guys.

 



His brother and sister.



 

I would say more but I'm only sleeping 2 hours at a time. I sleep and nurse our son. Sleep and nurse. And nurse and sleep. I don't really have words lately. Just a sense of joy, relief, happiness, crazy spasm happy tears and absolute thankfulness.

 

I am blessed beyond belief.

 

Thank you Jesus for all that we've been given.

 

Amen.

 

 

parallels

When Mr. Hall and I started dating, I went to 'adiamondisforeverdotcom', picked out a ring and emailed it to him. We'd been together 3 months. I was making sure, in no uncertain terms, that he knew what I wanted. I wanted him to be my husband and to start a family.

I was a pushy broad.

Now that we've had the little foster kid in our lives for 3 months, I find myself getting ancy. The birth mom ISN'T DOING WHAT SHE NEEDS TO DO. Which is fine. More kid for us. I get greedy about this kid. My love for him grows and grows.

I'm exchanging emails with his social worker too, updating her on our weekends. Telling her about this and that. I need to pull back though. I am starting to get pushy. I'm starting to hint that we want him full time, not just weekends.

She already knows this.

There are implications if he comes to us full time. It means the chances of his mom getting him back grow dimmer. So, with these emails, I've noticed I'm starting to lay groundwork, to appear perfect in case he comes up for adoption. Things are pretty dim for the birth mom right now. But, I need to stop that too. He has a family. Not just the birth mom.

I can't just want this kid and then he's ours. I need to pull back with my needs here. They'll overshadow what I'm doing, which is just being there for him. Being there to tie shoes, make pb+j sanwhiches and haul him out of target because he wants a candy bar and i said no but he wants it and has a big ol snot bubble fit about it.

Seriously, the kid screamed so loud I didn't hear right for half a day.

Accepting things as they come, with no expectations, is something new for me. Like when I had my two kids. I read volumes and volumes of how to be a mom type books. I planned out how I was going to be a mom before I was a mom. But, those guidebooks are bull. They're meant to scare you so you buy their products. Like yon helmet below.

BULLSHIT.

Then I realized something. After the target fun, I spent the entire morning scouring websites, rereading 'how to be a foster mom' books. Again with the parallels. I realized I need to stop reading and just give it up. Crap happens and it will happen again. Also, I can't shop alone with the foster kid. He listens to Mr. Hall a 1000 times better. I can let Mr. Hall take him shopping.

And I'll pretend that Mr. Hall told me BOTH TIMES not to over read, over analyze and over think being a parent/foster parent. God has a plan and I need to turn to Him. That's all I will need.

AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST IN THE PARALLEL DEPARTMENT.

I am about five days out from my due date. Denial is no longer an option. The bassinet is built, the size 'n' diapers are bought and these dang braxton hicks grow stronger every day. I'm scared. Scared like the first trimester before you reach the magical 12 weeks scared. Only this time, denial is not an option. I have to face up to the fact that THIS IS HAPPENING. I have a baby in mah belly who is coming out in less than a week.

I will post his picture on facebook. I will accept visitors and well wishers into my home. I will feel his soft little head in my hands and hold him constantly. The miracle is happening and it's about time I started acting like it.

So, i'll pray. pray and let go and let God and let the joy and love bloosom out of control.

See ya'll on the other side.

:)

RAWR!!

My work uses internet explorer 7 so no pictures and no spell correction for you dear readers. I can't blog at home either. Because blogging is done on company time only.

SUNDAY-Had braxton hicks something fierce. I am now 35 weeks so that seems about right. Braxton Hicks are contractions that don't actually do anything. They are fake. Real contractions dilate the cervix, push the baby down and out. Braxton Hicks just hurt. It's like someone randomly starting a car, the engine revs in fits and starts but never turns over. Not yet anyway. Once it turns over, labor will be officially on and YAH WHOO!!!!

So, I tried to take a nap to ease the fake, yet very painful, contractions. Tried to sleep because I can't sleep at night. I'M SO DANG TIRED AND SO BIG AND SO SWOLLEN. About an hour in I hear my daughter holler at my son.

My daughter is nine, she's bossy. She hollers to my son, "MAC!! DO NOT PEE YOUR PANTS!!" My son is five. He's potty trained. He just doesn't like stopping what he's doing to go potty. So, he peed his pants. I get up from my nap, put him on a time out, then get back to my nap.

That's right.

I interrupted my nap, that was suppose to quell my braxton hicks, to put my five year old on a time out for peeing his pants.

THAT IS THE DIFERRENCE BETWEEN HAVING ONE CHILD AND THREE CHILDS.

yep, mmhmm :)

MONDAY-Had my OB appt. Mr. Hall went along. Which focuses me a bit. I'm so scatter brained these days and don't really make much sense. Mr. Hall directs my questions. The main question I had was about the birth of my yet unborn. "Can I have a c-section?" I asked. I had a c-section with my daughter, went totally natural with my son. I'm not particularly attached the natural child birth.



So, I explain my son's birth to the OB. I explain how I tried to have an epidural with my son but it didn't work. The epidural only numbed my right knee.

This gets Mr. Hall going. He interrupts me and says,

"YEAH. And they still charged us for it!!"

He loves saying this. It's his favorite joke.

Never fails to make people laugh though.

The ob explained my options which do in fact include a c-section. Which I don't think I'll take unless needed. I have contractions on and off these days. Which means my body is getting ready.

Which makes me so excited and over the moon. We already love him so much, our little bean.

Praise!

On babies and being eight months pregnant

Last night we went to see our friend's new baby. 7 lbs of day old newborn. All Maggie Simpson on the nuk, sleepy and easy to hold. As I held her my pains and aches went away. Newborn babies are the elixir that cures pretty much every woe.

This photo below, is my current baby. Well, it was him 14 weeks ago. Back when I was 20 weeks pregnant. Cute pregnant. Little belly pregnant.

This is me now. I am 34 weeks, or, about 8 months. I can't eat, sleep, breathe, walk or get comfortable. My back spasms throughout the day and I have an unending need to pee. My pelvic bones are breaking apart most of the time. It's like when you crack your knuckles, only it's my pelvic bones cracking when I walk. I don't say these things to whine and complain, I say them because they are part of my current complex craziness.

Holding that baby last night, it broke open my last vestige of denial. I've talked to other Moms who have had miscarriages and we all experience denial with recurrent pregnancies. It's involuntary. We little forget we are pregnant to buffer our fear and pain. Crazy denial.

The first five months I was super sick with morning sickness, so that took care of a lot of my crazy denial. Then my belly poked out a little and it was like the castle in the fish bowel. A surprise every time for me. But a great surprise, like winning the lottery every time I looked down and noticed my belly.

I've struggled with fear. Crazy amounts of fear that wax and wane. Fear that this baby died. I get obsessed with feeling my baby move and struggle when he doesn't. I have had nightmares and obsessive thoughts of sad. It has gotten better the more I pray and go to bible study. The more I reach out to God, the more I heal and let the love flow.

Praying has made the biggest difference in the world.

And now, I am nearing the end of my pregnancy. I feel things loosen and change. He's so big inside me. I can feel his feet, his arms and his head. He's so strong that his thumping movements can be seen from the outside.

My faith has over come my fear. It's all so wonderful. I'm so thankful :)

Letting it come

The above photo is all that survived last year's mass give away of maternity, baby and kid clothes. I gave away 8-12 honking rubbermaid containers because after my last miscarriage, I was done.

Turns out, I just needed to heal. Thus, some five months after the loss, Mr. Hall provided wonderful lubrication in the form of what he called 'tropical juice'. Through drunken slurs, the truth came out. I wasn't done. I wanted to have another baby. I wanted the two babies we had lost. He wanted to try again too.


And God has blessed us with more baby belly and I couldn't be happier.

Everybody dance!



It's still shocking, seeing me like that.

That being said, when family and friends heard of my mass purge, they promptly deluged me with this.



There are another two rubbermaid containers not pictured. I am humbled, bereft of words to explain how this feels. I mean, YOWZA! People are too kind and it's hard to accept this kindness. But I did. And now my kid now has enough clothes to last for two years!!!

I tried not to fight it but all of this is making my cry for happy and just languish in the goodness.

CRY FOR HAPPY!!

I'm still in shock over the whole thing. I mean, am I really five months pregnant? My coworkers are figuring it out. My patients are figuring it out. I'm figuring it out too.

Mr. Hall is not in shock.

He believed all along.




I guess I just needed a little help with letting go. Letting go of my shock, of my denial and my sad. This baby is so squirmy and strong. I feel him kick all the time. I can breathe now, hold him in my belly for a few more months and love on him.

Then, God willing, he comes out all pink and screamy. Then I will hire a marching band and go up and down the street!

WEE HEE!!!



:)

Then, there was this

When I layed down on the ultra sound table, my left shoulder blade started to ache. Which exploded into spasms that ate up the rest of my back. It stunk because I knew it was just my body articulating my crazy. Because I was fine, the baby was fine. In fact, he didn't sit still the entire time we looked at him.

Here is the one moment of relaxation. With legs crossed no less.

We call this the hammock shot.



Yep, he's a boy.

Praise!!

Now, what to call the mover and groover. I love feeling him move. It's like a little conversation we have. He moves, I tell him I love him and we talk about things.

Anyway, names! I was so sure he was a girl I never even thought to come up with names.

Mr. Hall would like the name to end in a vowell. It'll go better with all that way.

Suggestions?

Mariachi Band Happy

The doctor said I can stop worrying now, now that I am 13 weeks and we all heard the heartbeat. My changes of miscarrying are less than 1%. I'm out of the danger zone.

Not sure what happened after that. It was all I could not to run out and hire a mariachi band and throw a party.

I AM SO HAPPY AND THANKFUL!!

Mariachi Band Happy!!

Surfacing

I'm starting to have less morning sickness and exhaustion. I went to the store to buy yogurt and did a bit a shopping. Normally after work, I limp home, pull into my driveway and then psyche myself to go into the house. I shower and tumble into bed. Trying not to puke and fall asleep at 5.30 pm. On Friday I made it all the way to 9.30!

So yeah, 12 weeks, things are transitioning.

Which brought up all sorts of nightmarish thoughts and untoward musings. I actually started to have nightmares. Nightmares that I was bleeding and losing the baby. My stupid head went in full battle mode about all of this. When I was sicky and tired, the thoughts were slowed because I was too sick to think. But, there were still there.

It sucks. It's like a drunk ex boyfriend that won't fricking go away.



Tomorrow, Monday, I'll be 13 weeks. I have a doctor's appt. Which I'm sure is triggering some of this. I just want to order a doppler to listen to the baby's heart beat and take my own blood pressure and pee in that cup at home. I don't need to go into a hospital and be subject to my OB's caring and reassurance.

But, fetal heart monitors are 300 dollars! And I don't have a way to measure the protein they're measuring. Plus, no matter what test I have it won't be enough to battle the monster thoughts and nightmares.

During all of this, I can't tell you how good I feel physically. I went this weekend without the bone crushing pukies and exhaustion. My back and hands are so sore from being clenched the last month or so. I feel my muscles healing. I actually ate yesterday and ENJOYED the succulent food. I am sitting upright and awake. It's simply amazing! The relief is incredible.

I'm surfacing and it feels so good to be awake and alive.



So let me say it once again, "Heavenly Father, carry me now, I've not the strength to walk alone."

On Hawks and Purple Stretch Marks

I had a funny thought on the way to work. I called Mr. Hall and said, "Let's name the little baby Hawk!" He said, "No, that's lame." But it tickled me.

Which is nice, being tickled. I've been weighed down with so much crazy lately. I realize it's my own doing but whatever. It's there. But. There's something else.

Having had two full term pregnancies I am blessed with two sets of stretch marks. After all, my son couldn't use the first set, he needed to make his own mark. Yesterday, when I was changing from my work pants to my yoga pants; ala Mr. Roger's, I noted my stretch marks becoming purple. I called to Mr. Hall and he confirmed it to be true.

This is new. I still have gobs of first trimester, lay my head down on the table in the middle of dinner because I am so exhausted, crawl into bed at 8.30 with the hopes of holding down my food type stuff going on. I still have round ligament pain. Which I'm too tired to hyperlink to.

Round ligament pain is pain that affects the ligament that starts at the hip and attaches to the uterus. As my womb grows the ligament smarts something fierce! It's an on again/off again pain that spikes if I get up too quickly or sneeze. Or just sitting down watching Jeopardy.

Complete aside here but- I take no amount of small petty pride in my Jeopardy skills. While I not show meterial (I'm not that good), I'm 10,000 times smarter then my husband at this show. I have a wicked strong memory for inane details. Like saffron is the most expensive spice in the world. Also, Saffron is the name of Patsy's daughter from the show Absolutely Fabulous. And I once had a roommate who use to do cocaine and laugh insanely at that show. I think the show is awesome without cocaine though. So yeah, all of this culminates in some wicked Jeopardy skills. Thank you ADD!!



Wait, where was I?

oh yeah. feeling hope.

I'm coming to the conclusion that holding on to fear and doubt won't protect me from things that can go wrong. Not getting my hopes up won't make any future hurt, hurt less. Plus, that's already happening. Doubt and fear are falling off in chunks and I'm being infused with hope.

I hand myself over to God, let Him carry me as I've not the strength to walk the journey alone.

So.

Let it come, oh sweet light, let it come.

i need a frickin hobby

Having been through two miscarriages, I know what to do if it happens again. Miscarriages are trauma. A specific trauma that involves the loss of one's baby. It's a rough, horrible recovery and then, with prayer and love, I can be healed.

These days I find myself pregnant again. Things are moving along predictably. I am so sick with morning sickness, so exhausted and nothing tastes right. I have had a number of headaches and a few migraines which make the right side of face explode in numbness. The chest has gone up a size and belly is starting to swell. I am ten weeks today.

All of which belies the galloping terrors I have inside.

The problem I have, is that twice before I lost my babies without warning. No cramping, no spotting, no nothing. I was still morning sickness and everything was chugging along. I just went in for routine appointments and they couldn't find a heartbeat. So, really, there is no way of knowing that things haven't stopped and my body is just going along like nothing happened. The not knowing is the riding crop.

It's gotten bad, these feelings. When I surface from nausea attacks, when my face regains feeling, when I can relax and eat with joy, this is when my scared goes into overdrive. The doctor was kind enough to offer me sooner appointments, to check on things, but that is no good. He's a nice, relaxed and reassuring man. But, he's a doctor and those visits trigger an ugly avalanche of freak out for me. I sort of go numb and stare the day before the appointments. The morning of, I just start crying. I cried when he saw me last.

I can't go in to see him early. It's too much a trigger. It was nice of him to offer though.

Maybe I can just use denial. Maybe that's the ticket. Maybe I can pretend I never had a miscarriage. Maybe I can just block that right out of my mind. The knowledge of all that I've been through isn't helping what is now. It's not helping me think positive. It's just not helping. Yeah, denial, that will help.

Then I can use prayer. I am so exhausted and tired. So worn down by first trimester symptoms and my worries I can't seem to surface enough to pray. But I don't have to be fancy about it. Just a few words here and there. That will help.

Leaning on Mr. Hall. I don't do this enough. He's right there, being over joyed and making jokes about his ability to knock me up. Calling himself a super stud, saying we should put a warning sign by our pool that a fertile man lives here. He gets so frustrated with me. I do too. But, leaning on Mr. Hall, that'll help.

Ok, that's enough for now. No more of this crazy. I'll be turning off this train of thought for now. Letting the normal happen and what I have happening now is so very normal. So very miraculous. I just need to open up my arms and let it all happen :)

Met my ob this morning, he seems nice

I told myself I wouldn't test until about 3 months in. Then, I was at the grocery store and spotted $1.00 pregnancy tests right by the check out. They were marked down to 50 cents! I grabbed one at the last minute. I told my husband I just couldn't take it anymore, I had to know. He said, "I'm suprised you didn't test in the store!"

That was two weeks ago. Two weeks ago I said I wasn't going to contact an OB-GYN doctor until I was 3 months along. Then, last week, I started spotting a little. It stopped right away. Which can be perfectly normal. The ob had me do tests and come in for an ultrasound. The scan was this morning.

The little bean is 4 mm and has a strong heartbeat. He said everything looks good and I can keep on doing what I'm doing. He was nice. Talked slow. Had warm hands which was nice. I am 6 weeks one day pregnant.

During the ultrasound I started to cry. I cried for happy, I cried for scared, I cried for crazy and I cried for sad. I feel shell shocked. I feel like I want to crawl inside my own body and hold my little grain of rice size baby and tell her I love her. Because I do.

I thought I had all this under control. I thought I had my emotions all healed and the crazy was healed. I thought a lot of things. Turns out I was wrong.

And this is ok.

Today I will go back to work and be all professional. In my quieter moments I will lose my shizzle and cry some more.

So.

Let's all hold hands and bow our heads because the Tribe Called Hall has been blessed with another miracle. Let's give thanks and praise. This miracle that has a loooooooooooonnnnnnnnggggggg way to grow. But we love her. And we'll love her all the way. :)