The Birth

My first labor started in the wee small hours of the morning with my water breaking and lasted 20+ hours.  With Mr. E it started fairly early, and lasted about 11 hours.  Baby J's was a rather exciting start and it went about 6.  Baby girl's labor really started at about 3:30 in the morning, but We didn't get to the hospital for 5 more hours, she came less than 3 hours later.

On May 23 I woke up at 3:30 am to do that thing that pregnant women do often.  On my way I felt a trickle run down my leg and suspected my water had broken.  They tell you that if you aren't sure it's your water that you should lay down for a while, at least 20 minutes, and if you have more when you get back up then it's definitely your water, so that's what I did, and by all appearances it wasn't my water.  At this point I couldn't sleep any more, I tried, but I just kept tossing and turning.  About two hours later I started having pretty intense contractions, they were tough to breathe and talk through, but not super regular or close enough together.  Lawrence woke up and asked if he should get the boys up, I told him not to.  About 6:30 I started packing my hospital bag, it was on the to-do list and I wasn't sleeping, so why not?  Lawrence watched me stop every 8 or so minutes for a contraction.  I still didn't want him to get the boys since I didn't really think this was it, I was NOT about to get sent home for false labor.  The boys woke up at their usual time, 8am and as they did so I raced to the bathroom, this time I was sure it was my water.  I called my mom, finished packing, loaded the kids in the car, and we were off to the hospital.  When we got there the nurses got me into triage, checked me out and informed me that I was much further along than I thought I was.  They rushed me to a delivery room and called anesthesia as quickly as they could.  My epidural went in at about 9:30.  I was able to rest a little, have an Italian ice, and soon it was time to push.  My doctor was still out of town, so the on-call doctor had to deliver Baby Girl.  After my first push it became apparent to me that the epidural wasn't quite working right, I could feel everything except the contractions.  Two pushes (and a lot of encouraging talk from Lawrence and the nurses) later Baby Girl came out screaming.  I held her on my chest and cried.

She was perfect, ten fingers, ten toes, a face just like her siblings, 8 lbs. 1oz (my smallest), 20.5 inches long, and dark hair.  That's right, dark, like my natural color, no real hint of red.  To say we were surprised would be an understatement.  It was certainly not a bad surprise, and she is beautiful. She nursed great and slept well, and just begged to be snuggled.

Then came the wait.  Before J was born I never thought I would pray for something like a stinky diaper, but here I was, praying hard for that very thing.  After about 12 hours I started to get really nervous.  Then, at about 18 hours old it happened, and we had a little party.  Yep, I said it, we had a celebration for a poopy diaper.

After that we were allowed to go home, we stayed in the hospital just over 24 hours.

Mr. E and Baby J (He needs a new nickname) are head over heels in love with their baby sister, they think she is "SOOO cute!" and we tend to agree.

The Pregnancy

Baby girl made her arrival at the end of May, but considering I've been MIA since April I thought I'd back track a little before sharing about her arrival and name.

I always wanted to have a big family.  I had plans for 3-5 kids, while Lawrence always said 3-5 boys and however many girls it took to get there.  After the accident I struggled with the decision to have more children.  I was terrified of losing another baby.  After talking it over with Lawrence and lots of prayer we decided to move ahead and get pregnant with J.  Then there were complications with J.  We were so happy to have him, and he has been a great (strong-willed and often frustrating, but sweet and fun) addition to our family.  I was really content.  My two boys were active and kept me on my toes, and I love them very much.  I felt like I could be done and be really happy, and I probably could have.  We had been discussing having another baby, but I was just unsure.  My pregnancy with J wasn't the easiest and I was concerned about having another HD baby, plus I was really happy with just my two boys.  Lawrence told me that it was my decision, that he would support me in whatever I decided, but he wanted me to be really sure.  He encouraged me to fast and pray about it.  So I did.  Soon I had my answer, there was a little girl waiting to join our family (more another time).  Soon thereafter we found out I was expecting again.

I've never really struggled with the morning sickness that plagues so many women while pregnant, and I count myself very lucky, but I have had other pregnancy issues.  When I was pregnant with Baby J I struggled physically with some very unpleasant pelvic/hip pain.  When I asked my doctor about it he said it was a normal pregnancy symptom and gave me a pain killer for the days it got bad.  After J's complications I was concerned with taking pain medication again, so I was pretty determined to find an alternative, should I face this problem again.  It showed up pretty early this time around, and there were days when I couldn't walk or move much because it hurt so bad and over-the-counter medicines didn't come close to helping.  I researched possible causes and methods to help relieve the pain and asked for help from some friends.  My doctor offered me pain killers, but I was pretty determined not to use them. So I started physical therapy just as I was entering my third trimester.  As much as I'd like to say it made the pain go completely away, it didn't, but it did improve some.  The therapist knew me from after the accident and I think it helped that he was familiar with my previous injuries.  I still had some pain, but the pt helped strengthen my muscles and ligaments enough that it was more bearable, it also helped keep my pelvic bones properly aligned (which was part of the problem).

Emotionally I was more prepared for the struggles I might face and they really weren't as bad as they were with Baby J.  I did have a few minor breakdowns, that mostly revolved around feeling overwhelmed by housework.  It also helped that Lawrence had a new job and was home more through this pregnancy than he was with J's.  He loves this new job and it only has him working 40-45 hours/week rather than the 50-60+ he was working most weeks before.  Having that support at home was really crucial to my emotional well-being.


I tried harder this pregnancy than I have before to keep my weight under control and I managed to only gain about 35-40 pounds.  I didn't have a big problem with swelling, until the last month or so.  Then in the last month and a half I started to notice my blood pressure gradually increasing.  About three weeks before my due date it crossed into the danger zone.  This was also the time that my doctor informed me that he was leaving for a two week vacation.  He offered to schedule an induction for me for his first day back.  I discussed it with Lawrence and decided that it was a good plan.  At my next appointment my blood pressure was even higher and I was showing other symptoms of pre-eclampsia, the NP (that I saw in my doctor's absence) told me to watch for swelling, drink more water, and rest as much as possible.  The induction was scheduled for the following Friday.

"It will all be ok"

Two weeks ago was Ethne's four-year angelversary.  Lawrence's parents were in town, so we met them for our traditional breakfast.  Then we went to visit the cemetery where my parents and younger brothers met us with balloons.  The boys had fun stoping around in the mostly undisturbed snow while the rest of us talked and froze.  We released balloons, shed some tears, then all went our own ways.


Lawrence had to work, and I managed the day alright.  I spent it with my boys, playing and snuggling.  It wasn't really until I was putting them to bed that things got a little "ugly."

Putting two busy boys to bed is always an adventure.  It was a Saturday, so they had baths.  J has become rather stubborn and independent so things have to be done just so or he has a fit, E has figured out some fun bedtime stalling technics, like getting into his jammies as slowly as humanly possible.  This often leads to some frustration on my part.  But then there's a fun part, where we read stories (E has been working on some sight words), say prayers, and sing songs.  The boys love to snuggle together in E's bed while we sing and they sing along with me, which always brings a smile to my face.  At the end we always sing "Bushel and a Peck" to each child, individually.  J while we chase him into his own room and tuck him in; and E while we scratch his back.  It was while tucking J in that it hit me...

J was only about a month younger than Ethne was when we lost her.  Then the tears came.  I couldn't stop them.  My sweet baby climbed into my fading lap and hugged me as I sobbed.  E called to me from his room, wondering when it was his turn.  Then Lawrence came home, and found me sobbing, on the floor, clinging to J.  He joined us on the floor, called E into the room, and tried to explain why I was so sad.  Then he asked E to give me a hug.

Without hesitation my tender-hearted boy was next to me, his skinny arms around my neck, and with all the gentleness a 4-year-old can muster he whispered to me, "It's all going to be ok, mommy.  It will all be ok."  Then he jumped up and ran to find his Princess Ethne book.  He climbed onto my lap-- which J had vacated-- and asked me to read to him.

Through my tears I managed most of the story, with some help from E, but I couldn't make it through the last several pages.  One of these pages has a picture of Lawrence and me, on our wedding day, in front of the temple.  It reads "Because Mommy and Daddy were married in the temple we know that we will get to be with Ethne again."

At that page E turned around and hugged me again, "It will all be ok, Mommy."

Five simple words, out of the mouth of a child, taught me a lesson that night.  My sweet boy has yet to be faced with many of life's great challenges-- he is only 4-years-old, his greatest trial is learning how to share with his brother-- yet he still understands, and has faith, in the things that we are trying to teach him.  He was so very firm in his belief that everything will be ok, because we have taught him that it will.  And the Lord has promised us that it will...

"Search diligently, pray always, and be believing, and all things shall work together for your good..." D&C 90:24

"Therefore, he giveth this promise unto you, with an immutable covenant that they shall be fulfilled; and all things wherewith you have been afflicted shall work together for your good, and to my name’s glory, saith the Lord."  D&C 98:3

So it is, every day, we move forward with faith in the Lord's promises that "all things will work together for [our] good" and that we will be with Ethne again.  We move forward with faith that "it will all be ok."

The big 4!

It's time for another birthday!  Mr. E turned four-years-old recently and he was very keen to celebrate.  Mr. E has finally figured out what birthdays are and has been excited for his birthday for MONTHS.  Every time we'd celebrate another birthday he'd get excited for it to be his turn, and every time it wasn't his birthday he'd get disappointed.  But now that it really was his turn he had to tell everyone who will listen that he was going to have a "Paw Patrol" birthday and that he would be 4.

Mr. E is such a great kid.  He loves his friends and regularly tells me that his Uncle G is his best friend (the 5 year age difference doesn't phase him one bit).  He loves to help with anything we will let him help with.  He has really started to come into his role as a big brother and sometimes plays well with Baby J.  The boy has a serious lack of "poker face," we always know when he is trying to hide something or when he's done something he knows he shouldn't.  He loves to compete... games, races, wrestling... as long as there can be a winner he's up for it-- and he is a pretty good winner and doesn't get too sore when he loses.  He is very affectionate and loves to snuggle up and watch a movie or show.  He loves to sing and picks up on music quickly.  He likes to hide whenever he hears someone coming, but he gets too giggly for it to be very effective.  He loves it when daddy's friends come over to sing music and gets out his guitar or drum set and microphone to join them-- he's even been on stage at a performance.  Mr. E and our Ginger puppy are still buddies and he has high hopes that, one day, she will sleep in his room with him every night.  His favorite color is red and he was thrilled that he got to play on a tee ball team with red shirts and hats (St. Louis Cardinals).  He really enjoyed tee ball in the spring and is still thankful for it every night.  He is spunky and busy and we love him so very much!

We celebrated with pizza, chocolate cake, ice cream, and presents.  Grandma and Grandpa H were there with all three of my brothers and my awesome sister-in-law, along with Great-Grandpa and Grandma E.  It was a quiet night, but fun and just what Mr. E wanted-- all the attention on him!

He is such a blessing in our home and definitely keeps us on our toes.

At the end of the day

At the end of the day I am tired and usually at the end of my rope-- patience is running low, children are cranky and uncooperative, dishes are piled up in the sink, and often Lawrence isn't home to help (managing retail often calls for unfortunate working hours).  But, somehow this is my favorite time of the day.

Mr. E Starts by picking up his toys while I pick up after Baby J.  Then the real battle begins, it's a fight to get him to go potty, a fight to get him up to his room, a fight to get him to take his clothes off, pick pajamas, etc., etc.  Sometimes I get a little short with him while we battle about these rather insignificant details, but after the battle comes the part that always makes up for it.  After Mr. E has taken care of his hygiene, changed into jammies, and has settled down a little from the day we sit in a rocking chair and read a story.  This is our time-- just Mommy and Mr. E.  Usually we read Curious George, sometimes it's a Junior story, or something else.  He snuggles his little red head into my shoulder, grabs a fistful of hair, and we read.  I often stop to ask about colors, shapes, numbers, animals, or other details (mostly in the pictures).  He answers my questions and also points out details he likes, as well as asks questions.  After his story Mr. E says his prayer, then crawls jumps into his stuffed animal filled bed.  Then we sing.  He gets 5 songs.  Nearly every night he chooses "I am a Child of God," "I Often go Walking," "Families Can be Together Forever," and some theme song from "Phineas and Ferb," there's rarely any variation.  Sometimes he sings along, but most the time he is content to let me do all the singing.  The last part of the night is even better than the rest of it combined.  This is when Mr. E climbs into my lap, wraps his arms around my neck and I sing "A Bushel and a Peck."  He gives me  an excellent hug, a kiss (on the lips), Tells me that he loves me, then climbs back into his bed as I turn out the light.

Once Mr. E is read to, sung to, and "in bed" it's Baby J's turn.  He doesn't put up a fight (yet).  He gets a new diaper, jammies, and some warm milk, then I also read to him.  His stories are much shorter and he doesn't hold still as well, but he also tends to grab a fistful of hair.  There are no questions and answers-- instead there's wrestling the book away from grabby hands that just want to pull it into his mouth.  Then we sing too.  Baby J only gets one or two songs and, you guessed it, "Bushel and a Peck" is always on the list.  We rock, snuggle, and I sing into his ear (which often makes him giggle),   then I kiss him about a dozen times, put him in his bed, and turn out the light.

Some nights I cry.  Every night I revel in the fact that I have been blessed with another day with these sweet, rambunctious, and smart boys.  Every night I take time to thank my Father in Heaven for the blessing of my boys and of the day we have had, and to ask for more days to spend with my Mr. E and Baby J.  I treasure this time I get to spend, one on one with each of my boys.  I am reminded of how special they are and this is the perfect ending to each of my not so perfect days.  No matter how frustrating, busy, productive or unproductive the day, at the end of it I am always grateful that it happened.

Big Brother

I remember when Mr. E was born.  In the hospital Ethne was more concerned with eating pretzels than her brother, but she let us lay him on her lap to take a picture.  After we brought him home Ethne slipped easily into the roll of big sister.  She wanted to hold the baby, kiss the baby, and help with the baby.  She would fetch diapers, give him his binki, play with him, and just wanted to be the best big sister she could be.  Ethne loved her baby so much.





When Baby J was born Mr. E also visited in the hospital.  He also wasn't sure what to think of this new thing.  He didn't want to hold Baby J and he couldn't figure out why mommy kept trying to get him to.  He was also a bit jealous, whichever parent was holding Baby J, Mr. E wanted to be held by that same parent.  He kept climbing up on the hospital bed to be with me, if I handed Baby J off to Lawrence Mr. E would climb in his lap.  He did try to share fruit snacks with Baby J, which was very sweet.  Then Mr. E didn't get to see Baby J for 2 weeks because he wasn't allowed in the NICU (flu and respiratory season).  Splitting the time was so hard, but that's a whole other can of worms.  Mr. E stayed with his grandparents and was very well cared for, but it was hard for him to understand where and why mommy and daddy were all the time.  After we brought Baby J home Mr. E really wanted nothing to do with him.  We tried to get Mr. E to hold Baby J, to hug him, kiss him, play with him... Mr. E just wasn't interested.  For a long time Mr. E just played around Baby J, barely acknowledging his existence.  Rarely he would surprise me by asking to hold Baby J, or giving him a kiss.  In the last month or so Mr. E has started to help with Baby J, bringing him toys, talking to him, even holding him sometimes.  The other night I was putting Mr. E to bed and Baby J was with us, I sat Baby J next to me so I could give Mr. E a hug and kiss.  Baby J tipped over and start crying.  Mr. E was immediately concerned and wanted to kiss Baby J's bonk better-- made me tear up a little.  He has really started to step into the roll of big brother and it makes me so happy.  I so look forward to the day that they play together, fight, make massive messes, and lots of noise.

It makes me a little sad that Mr. E never got to that point with his sister, that he hasn't known the joys and frustrations of a sibling yet.  But he will, with Baby J.  I hope that they will enjoy each other more than they don't, that they will be best friends and stick up for each other.  I hope that they will learn to embrace other siblings they may have and know that they are stuck with each other forever and that they will love it (or at least learn to).  I am so thankful that Mr. E has accepted Baby J and is starting to be his big brother.