The Story of Faith

 photo credit: Good Morning Girls

"Remember not the former things nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert." (Isaiah 43:18-19)

God brought these verses to my heart just a few days before our Faith arrived, as my body was becoming worn out from pregnancy and she was already preparing to enter this world.  As her birth day drew near, I began to remember my other labor stories and...well...some of the pieces of my story are not easy to remember.  Fear began to creep into the corners of my heart and settle there...but I wasn't about to let fear win.  

As I read these verses, I was drawn into the word "new" and the fact that God's ways are so far above my own understanding.  Just because pieces of my story had already been broken and filled with pain...didn't mean that this next chapter of my story would be the same.  This is what I wrote as I shared these verses on facebook:

"Just because life unfolded one way in the past, doesn't limit Him to the same unfolding today or tomorrow...be prepared for a glorious unfolding of a new thing He is preparing for you."

God is not limited to my human understanding...and I'm so glad.  As C.H. Spurgeon says, "He is not tied down to a monotony of procedure, His blessings are as varied as His creations, He delights to surprise us with fresh manifestations of His love..."  Little did I know just how much He would surprise me in the days to come, but, somehow, I knew that He was speaking to my heart just what I needed to hear to prepare me for a glorious unfolding. 

***

my cute early morning "alarms"

As I sat in church Sunday morning, two weeks before my due date, I was weary and uncomfortable...and dreading the comments that were sure to come from well meaning church family. It was clear even to my OB doctor that this little girl wanted to come sooner than we expected, but I had no idea just how soon.  I had slept well most of the night until waking in the early morning hours restless and unable to settle back down.  I forced myself to close my eyes and breathe in and out until I fell asleep again, somehow knowing I would need the sleep.  

So, when my youngest son woke me up with a smile and his silly little chatter, I climbed out of bed with a smile and we made our way downstairs until the rest of the house was awake for breakfast.  When I made my way downstairs, I realized my oldest was awake too, because her littlest brother often crawls into her bed and wake her with his giggles.  She doesn't seem to mind either, because he adores her and she loves being a big sister.  I put on a little early morning cartoons thanks to Netflix and we all ate blueberries together.  

By the time we were all awake and ready for church, I was feeling more uncomfortable and emotional.  It was getting harder to move as I was already 3 cm dilated as of my OB appointment on Friday and baby girl had dropped as she prepared for birth.  There really is such a thing as the pregnant waddle and I had it down.  

During Sunday School, I sat in the nursery with my Ollie who refused to let me out of his sight.  I think, somehow, he knew things were about to change big time and he wanted to soak up mommy's cuddles and attention as much as possible.  He was still very cuddly by the time church service started, so I brought him in to sit on my lap until he decided he didn't want to sit still or be quiet after all.  I was starting to feel some slight contractions, which made it harder to hold and cuddle with him and I was getting frustrated.  I handed him over to Ted and spent the rest of church service trying to quietly breathe through the contractions that were slowly picking up without causing a scene.  I whispered to Ted as the last song began that I was having contractions and we tried to leave as quickly as possible.  

On the drive home, Ted looked at me with concern and held my hand as he noticed the pain increasing.  He explained to the kids that baby Faith was trying to come out soon and got them settled for a quiet lunch while I called my mom and walked around slowly, pausing to breathe through one contraction after another.  After being sent home several times with my boys, I was worried I wouldn't know when the right time was to go to the hospital, but, in those moments, I just knew: it was time.  

***

very last belly photo...captured the morning I went into labor, at exactly 38 weeks

My mom was literally just finishing up at work, so she stopped at home to grab what she needed and then hurried over to our house while Ted called our babysitter to come watch the kids.  Ted got the kids settled down for nap and they had just fallen asleep when both my mom and our babysitter arrived.  We got to the hospital at about 2:00 and, though I hadn't yet progressed from 3 cm, I was clearly having contractions and by 4:30 or so I had progressed to 4 cm.  I literally cheered when the nurse told me that, because I finally realized: we were going to finally meet our rainbow baby.

My sweet friend, Aymee, had generously offered to be our birth photographer, but she also became an invaluable support as a birth assistant/doula-in-training.  I had expressed to my mom and Ted that I still very much wanted a natural birth, but there was a part of me that was afraid I wouldn't be able to handle it.  From the moment I saw those tiny blue lines announcing our firstborn's arrival, I had dreamed of a natural birth that was both beautiful and empowering.  My first two labors were far from those dreams and it took me years to overcome some of the trauma of difficult labors, feelings of failure, and long, hard days spent in the NICU waiting to bring home our babies.  My third was very healing in many ways, but I still felt a desire to experience it all without pain meds and with minimal interventions.  

Aymee was a huge support as I had talked over my hopes and fears and expectations for this birth.  In fact, my entire labor support team - Aymee, my mom, and my husband - were incredible.  They helped me voice my own wishes and gave me both physical and emotional support throughout labor, so I could have the birth experience I had always wanted.  They never once doubted my abilities and constantly praised and helped me to find the inner strength I needed.  Their support, along with God's peace that was so evident through the entire experience, really did make all the difference.  

Like Ollie's birth, I spent quite a while in the whirlpool bath during early labor.  Water and the massage of the whirlpool jets were so relaxing and really helped me focus on allowing my body to work with the contractions instead of fighting them.  As I sat there, I prayed and thanked God for all He had already done and for knowing how the story was going to continue to unfold.  I asked Him to give me the strength I needed to bring her into the world and for the experience to be both beautiful and empowering.  I also talked to my baby, telling her how excited I was to meet her and that I was ready for her to be here.  I tried to imagine what she would look like, focusing on that moment when our eyes would meet for the first time and I would hold her in my arms.  

By the time I got out of the tub, contractions had slowed down a little.  I decided to walk around a little, so my mom and Ted took turns walking with me.  As contractions picked up again, I reminded myself that this pain was good, because it was my body doing what needed to be done to bring our baby into this world.  For some reason, I kept thinking of Olaf from Frozen when he is confronted by the marshmallow snow monster that Elsa makes.  He says something about how they were just talking about him, but it was "all good things, all good things".  Every time the contractions got worse or I began to feel more pressure, the nurses or my labor support team would tell me "that's good! that's what is supposed to happen!", I would laugh as I imagined Olaf saying "all good things, all good things".  

***

The details of how exactly my labor progressed are a little fuzzy to me, but it was the most relaxed and peaceful labor I've experienced.  Besides using the whirlpool bath and walking around, I found my favorite labor position was sitting on the big yoga ball and moving my hips back and forth with the contractions while leaning forward onto the bed.  I was so relaxed, in fact, that I was laughing at the conversations my labor support team was having and joking right along with them.  As the contractions picked up in intensity, I closed my eyes to zone out everything else in the room.  I told Ted I was "in my zone" and he joked that I should make sure I didn't "lose my groove"...which is only funny if you know the story about the two lap bike race where I overheard a racer saying he quit half way through because "I just lost my groove, man!". All jokes aside, though, the yoga ball was like magic for me, because, up until I reached 8 cm, I was more relaxed and at peace about the entire process than I've ever been before.   

I sat at 5-6 cm for a while, but by late evening I was a solid 7 cm.  The on call doctor knew I wanted a natural and mostly intervention free birth, but that I was open to pain meds so she reminded me that this was probably my window of opportunity to get an epidural if I wanted one.  This year has been about letting go of fears and not letting fear control me.  I know that epidurals work well for me and I don't regret having them for any of my other births, but there was part of me that very much wanted to experience birth without one.  I just had to let go of the other part that was afraid of the pain without an epidural, because I knew it would be more intense and hard than anything I've ever done.  But, as my husband reminded me, some of the best things in life are also the hardest.  So, with the full support of my labor support team, who told me over and over than they fully believed I could do it, I decided to say no to the epidural and yes to the birth I had always wanted.  

At some point after this, the on call doctor came in again and told me she was concerned that labor had stalled and tried to pressure me into getting an IV and starting pitocin.  Labor was definitely becoming harder and I was getting more exhausted, but I was confused at why she would suggest pitocin.  I felt that labor was going well - in fact, it was the best labor I've experienced - and I really didn't want an IV.  It was so freeing to not be hooked up to an IV this time and be able to walk around and try different positions throughout labor instead of being stuck in bed.  I also knew that with my first, pitocin was an awful experience and it was not at all what I wanted.  I questioned the doctor and she suddenly got defensive, telling me she had another patient who needed surgery and didn't want me to be ready to push while she was in surgery.  

My friend, Aymee, came to my rescue, telling the doctor that this was MY labor and that the other patient's situation was not my fault.  She knew I didn't want to be pushed into something I didn't want and when I heard her speak up it gave me the confidence to tell the doctor I needed her to leave so I could make my decision with the help of my labor support team.  My mom agreed that the doctor was unfairly pressuring me to make a decision that was convenient for her and reminded me that this was MY decision.  I was becoming frustrated and I'm grateful for their support in reminding me that my body was already doing what it needed to and there was really no need for pitocin.  With their full support and encouragement, I was able to calmly tell the doctor that I did not want pitocin.  

Soon after, I reached 8 cm on my own and I was so thrilled to realize how far I had already come.  At that point, however, exhaustion set in and I became frustrated again with the sudden onset of back labor.  I realized there was no turning back now, but I was still beginning to fear all the what ifs as I had flashbacks to my first labor.  Labor was far more intense than I'd experienced before, because by this point in my other labors I already had an epidural.  At some point, as I began to moan and cry through contractions, I leaned on the nurse a few times and she held me tight, whispering words encouragement.  What a gift she was!  

***

Faith Kathleen Hanes

7 lbs, 11.4 oz, 21 inches

8/4/14 @ 2:55 am

The last part of labor is a blur to me, because it was just so intense, but, one thing I remember the most, is how grateful I was for my labor support team and the nurse I had that night.  While the on call doctor was in surgery with her other patient, the same doctor who delivered Ollie was just a phone call away.  She was concerned for me when I remained at 8 cm for so long and gently suggested pitocin to help me through the last hurdle of labor.  My mom explained to me that part of the concern was that I was also clearly exhausted and, as both a nurse and my mom, she believed that pitocin was the safest and best choice at that point.  My husband and Aymee agreed with her concerns and reminded me that agreeing to pitocin didn't mean I was a failure or even that this birth was anything like any of my others.  I had already accomplished so much and overcome so much fear.  This was the birth I had always wanted...and soon enough it would really all be worth it.  

It was probably around 2 am when I agreed to the pitocin and, before the medicine was actually working its way through the IV, I was already noticing more pressure and contractions became stronger and closer together than ever.  It was like my body knew the moment I made that decision that this was what needed to be done and that I could do this.  I honestly have no idea how I made it from that point to holding my Faith in my arms.  There really aren't enough words to describe how intense and painful it is to bring a baby into the world without any pain meds.  

The only thing I remember is yelling at the on call doctor (who had finished with surgery on the other patient just in time) to stop touching me as baby girl began to crown and I couldn't stop the urge to push.  I thought she was making sure I was completely dilated, but my mom said she was helping baby come.  I was just in such intense pain and all I wanted at that point was to get baby girl OUT.  Still, despite the doctor's unfair pressure to make a decision I didn't want earlier, she was calm and mindful of my desires at the end.  She asked for my consent to an episiotomy and talked me through the entire process of stitching the wound after baby was here. She also placed baby girl immediately in my arms and praised me for all I had done without pain meds.   

That moment, after one last push brought our baby girl into this world (sunny side up - which explains the back labor) and I heard her crying - or, rather, screaming - is one I may never find the words for.  I was a mess - crying and sobbing and choking out words.  Every emotion of this pregnancy and all the brokenness of our story that brought us here were there in that moment and I couldn't stop staring in awe and praise of the God who walked us out of the valley of darkness to the most beautiful green pastures.   "She's here...she's here...she's really here..." were about the only words I could choke out.  The look in my husband's eyes, the pure love and joy of a man who has walked with me through so many valleys and storms and never once given up on me...and the emotion of a man who adores being a daddy and so beautifully embraces his role as leader and protector in our home...is a moment I will never forget.  

  

The Story Of Baby Hope

I've shared over on my personal blog the heartache our family is grieving right now, but I wanted to share some more here of how this has affected us as a family...

***

Nearly a month ago, we announced with great joy and expectation that our family would be growing by one more sweet little baby.  When I told the kids, Valerie screamed and yelled, "A baby?!?  I WANTED another baby!  Cuz I really, really want a sister!"  Almanzo was excited too, but Valerie was absolutely ecstatic.  They decorated pumpkins and smiled for photos to share our news and we all thanked God for this littlest blessing already being knit together in my womb.

I even shared an early belly photo, laughing at how quickly my body was remembering how to change to grow a baby.  Valerie would grin and tell me each morning, "Oh!  Your belly is already getting bigger, mommy!"  Already my pants were getting tight and I was imagining pulling out my maternity clothes and anticipating eagerly the blessing of holding another newborn baby in my arms before our eighth wedding anniversary. 

Almost four years ago, in the midst of a really hard battle with postpartum depression and anxiety, I thought for sure my dreams of being a mother of four was impossibly out of reach.  It is only by God's grace that I made it out of that battle victorious and I found myself daily standing in awe of the God who heard my heart's cry and placed our fourth child so carefully in my womb.

And then the bleeding started.  

I choked back tears as I rushed to tell Ted and he held me as we prayed for answers...and, really, a miracle.  We desperately wanted this baby, but, somehow, I knew.  We were losing our precious baby.  We told Ted's mom and she held me as I cried more, offering such tremendous support that only someone who has been there can do. 

By Monday morning, despite Ted's best effort to keep hoping until we knew for sure, even he was beginning to doubt this story would have a good ending.  After lunch, he drove me to the nearest Urgent Care and for the rest of the afternoon I was cared for so gently and tenderly by a doctor and nurses who seemed to grieve right along with us.  An ultrasound and blood work confirmed our fears: our baby had died around 6 weeks and now, at just over 8 weeks, my body was accepting and letting go.

Poor Oliver didn't know how to handle seeing mommy in a hospital gown and hooked up to an IV.  Ted attempted to rock him to sleep but he was not happy that mommy couldn't hold him.  Ted had to finally drive around until he fell asleep and then sat in the car waiting for me.  At just over 1 year old, our Ollie is still enjoying mommy's milk, especially at nap time and bed time.  I'm so grateful for those quiet moments when he is still curled up in my arms nursing, because there is nothing more calming and peaceful when my heart is breaking. 

After I was discharged, I walked slowly out to the car, willing myself to move when all I wanted to do was cry.  When I sat down in the passenger seat, I somehow found the words to tell Ted and then he held me as the tears came rushing in and he prayed over our grieving hearts for healing and comfort in the days to come. 

When we returned to Ted's childhood home, Valerie greeted me with concern in her eyes and an earnest question, "Is the baby still in your belly, mommy?"  I fell to my knees and told her through broken words that our baby was no longer alive but with Jesus and I watched as her own heart broke.  It nearly undid me to see her ache so much for the baby she wanted nearly as much as we did.  As I finished telling her, she grabbed hold of my shoulders and pulled me close.  I held her like that for a while in the silence of our shared grief. 

It wasn't until bed time that her tears came, when, in her own broken words, she spoke, "But...I...but...I...just...really...wanted...this...baby!"  I held her as sobs shook her little body and my own tears mixed with hers.  For a five year old, she already has the most tender and compassionate heart and she understands far more than we often realize.  Just like her mommy, she feels emotions so deeply, but, still, it took me by surprise how much she grieved for our baby.

Tuesday morning, we drove back home, leaving Michigan mid morning and arriving back home in Wisconsin just in time for dinner.  The doctor at the Urgent Care had told me our baby was no longer alive, but I had still not actually miscarried, so the entire drive home was miserable as my body did the hard work of continuing to let go.

It wasn't until mid morning Wednesday, after Ted was already at work and our three kids were playing and laughing and filling our home with noise that my body finally let go.  I rushed to the bathroom as more intense cramping took over and watched as our tiniest little one was born.  Though barely recognizable as a baby, I could still see tiny little arm buds and a little body curved into a C still waiting to be fully formed.  No matter how small, a mother's heart still knows and feels the tiniest little life. 

I sent Ted a text at work: "Baby just passed.  Bigger than I expected.  It hurts..."  He called me almost immediately, which is unusual for him, but we were both grieving this loss together.  Somehow, I went through the motions of making lunch for the kids, putting them all down for naps, and then driving to our local clinic to hand over our baby for testing.  I wrote on my facebook page about the way the nurses there treated me with so much disrespect and callousness.  They didn't offer a single ounce of sympathy or support, but spoke to me in a rush as though I was wasting their time.  I still have to write that letter, because no mom should have to listen to a nurse talk about her baby, no matter how small, as a piece of "tissue" instead of the lost life she is so deeply grieving. 

That night, we talked with the kids more about our baby and how we were going to name our baby Hope.  We won't know for sure the gender of our baby until we see our baby in heaven, but both Valerie and I have been imagining our baby as a girl.  I can't explain how I know, but somehow I just know.  Valerie has been insistent from the beginning that our baby was a girl too and, often, she has been right about these convictions. 

Another part of the reason we named our baby Hope is because of the real Hope we have in the God who is still good and is a sure and steadfast anchor in the storms of life.  We will always miss our Hope baby, but we know, even in our grief, that our baby is safe in the arms of Jesus and that one day we will be reunited.  We don't know why and we will always wonder what life would be like if our baby was still here, but none of that changes who God is and the real Hope we have in Him. 

Nine Months Old

(

(shhh...don't tell anyone these photos were actually taken this morning...just a few days shy of turning 10 months old...because this momma of three would NEVER forget until the last minute...ha!)

July 12, 2013

It's hard to believe that he's now been in our arms longer than we waited for his arrival as he grew in the safety of my womb. And yet, it's hard to imagine our lives before he arrived. He makes us laugh with every new baby babble and silly monkey moves he makes. He loves to climb EVERY thing in sight, just like his big brother, and I swear he knows when he is being silly already.

He talks himself to sleep and he is starting to babble in his own little language. I thought I heard him say "mama" the other day, but it may have been wishful thinking. He certainly KNOWS who his momma is though, because there's no one else who can soothe him quite as well as momma. He may be constantly on the move, but the moment he is hungry or tired, he is only happy when he is curled up in my arms.

He is learning how to walk - yes, WALK! - already by holding onto furniture or pushing anything that moves across the room. He will hold onto just one of my hands and walk to daddy and he ALMOST let go and took a step unassisted the other night.

He gets so excited when daddy gets home, making a bee line for him, crawling at warp speed, and nearly climbing up his legs to get in his arms. He ADORES his big sister and big brother, but his biggest smiles and funniest laughs are reserved for his big sister. Just one look from her and he dissolves in giggles!

He seems to think his big brother is his personal jungle gym as he tries to wrestle him to the ground and pounds on his back with glee. I can only imagine the wrestling matches and adventures these two boys will have as they grow. They will probably give me a heart attack, because they have NO fear and when they combine their love of adventure, we are ALL in trouble! But, oh, how I love being his momma and I wouldn't trade this life for anything in the world.

Eight Months Old

June 12, 2013

Our sweet Ollie is EIGHT months old already (as of Wednesday). How did that happen?! We were just reflecting today on how quickly he is outgrowing the baby stage and entering toddler-hood. He is crawling at race speed, pulling himself up on all furniture as well as mommy's legs, and even taking steps across the room using his walker or any other movable object.

He has FIVE teeth now (his top two middle teeth plus the one to the right and his bottom two middle teeth) and has already given up on mashed up baby food. This boy wants the REAL deal, so whatever we are eating for dinner I feed him in little bites while he begs for more even with a mouthful of food. ("That's my boy!" says his proud daddy.)

I have a feeling he will keep me on my toes even more than his big brother after witnessing him turn himself around and stand up in the grocery store cart WHILE buckled in today. We've already had to hide the garbage cans and close the bathroom door, because, well, garbage cans are so much more fun to tip over and dump out...and toilets are great fun to splash around in, right? Seriously, the boy just NEVER.STOPS.MOVING.

He loves playing with his big brother and sister, which they are usually happy to oblige...unless he decides to chew on their in-progress puzzle, knock down their almost-finished block tower, or crawl away with one of their favorite toys in his mouth...all with a big grin on his face. So, the cries of "mommy, Ollie is causing trouble!" have already begun.

But, then, moments later, they are kissing his cheeks and whispering, "I just love you so much, Ollie!" Oh, my heart, how I love these three precious gifts. Happy eight months birth-iversary, Oliver Matthias. We love you to the moon and back.

Two Months Old

I know this is way overdue, but better late than never, right?

(December 12, 2012) 

Happy 2 months to our sweet littlest peanut, Oliver! We love watching him grow, listening to him find his voice, and seeing all his sweet smiles. He is our big baby boy at 11 lbs, 12 oz and 24 inches already and is almost too big for all his 0-3 month clothes. (In fact, I had to pull out some of his 3-6 month sleepers last night!) We love you, Ollie bird!

Project Life 2012: Week 39 - 42

September 23 - 29

37 1/2 week baby bump

the birthday trio

I love this girl

cuddles with my big boy

 tickle war with daddy

pretty miss Matia

the frosting queens

my favorite niece

 homemade beef stew and gluten free dinner rolls

my dad's new "toy" - a riding lawn mower and snow blower

38 week baby bump

Despite contractions off and on this weekend, our littlest peanut is still comfy-cozy in mommy's womb.  We're in the home stretch now, so we're trying to take it easy and enjoy these last few days or weeks before baby arrives.  Our fun this week included another visit with my cousin, Sparrow, and her sweet little Matia while celebrating birthdays and watching the Packer game.  My cousin, Alyssa, our Almanzo, and my mom have birthdays right around the same time, so we did a joint birthday party.  I made a big pot of beef stew and Sparrow helped me make some gluten free dinner rolls and cupcakes.  My aunt Michelle made a yummy cake as well.  Almanzo was having so much fun playing with aunt Michelle.  He kept running up to her and giggling with glee as she lifted him up into the air. 

***

September 30 - October 6

  39 Week Baby Bump

 THREE car seats!

behind the scenes of Almanzo's birthday photo shoot

 we treated the kids to their first Starbucks (salted caramel hot chocolate) on a family outing this weekend

Our littlest peanut is keeping us guessing.  After going into false labor and making two trips to labor and delivery, we are all ready for him to be here in our arms.  Even the kids are anxious to meet their little brother.  Valerie says, "Mommy, I think baby Ollie is ready to pop!...and he really, really needs to!"  I did take advantage of the time to do some last minute preparations like cleaning and installing the infant car seat in the van.  It's strange and exciting to see three car seats in our van. 

***

October 7 - October 13

one morning I found the kids in bed together reading stories - so sweet!

 

guess who turned THREE?!?

40 week baby bump

our littlest peanut

As of my 39 week appointment, I was 3 cm dilated and the plan was to schedule an induction on the 15th if baby wasn't here by my appointment on the 12th.  My official due date was the 11th...and baby finally decided to make his arrival on the 12th.  You can read the rest of the story here and here.  We are so in love with him and so blessed to have him here safe and healthy. 

***

October 14 - October 20

milk drunk babe

wiggle worm

one week old

pigtails for my sweet pea

cow girl boots for a bike ride with daddy?  of course!

babywearing at the grocery store

I can't even describe the feeling of bringing home our healthy baby boy just two days after his arrival.  He is truly an answer to prayer.  This week was all about getting to know our littlest peanut.  Valerie and Almanzo are fascinated with him.  Wednesday night we ventured out as a family of five to Awana.  It was so fun to introduce our church family to our sweet Ollie.  Friday morning I felt well enough (or maybe crazy enough?!) to take all three kids grocery shopping.  Our local grocery store has a Tot Spot where the kids could play while I shopped and they love going there.  While they played, I put Ollie in the ring sling and enjoyed a peaceful shopping excursion while he slept happily cuddled up close.  We were all ready for nap when we got home, but it felt good to get out of the house for a little while. 

Two Weeks Old

Our littlest peanut is two weeks old...and growing like crazy.  We took him to my mom's office on Saturday morning and he is already up almost a pound from his birth weight - 8 lbs, 2 oz!   He just loves momma's milk.

He continues to charm us all with his sweet little noises and every itty-bitty, perfectly-made piece of him.  Valerie loves to mimic his facial expressions.  "Look, mommy, he make this face!" and then she giggles and giggles.  Every time he loudly fills his diaper, both Valerie and Almanzo dissolve in wild laughter.  It is quite funny to hear such a loud noise come out of someone so tiny!

Yesterday, I realized he is almost too big for his newborn sleepers already, because he has such long legs.   I'm going to have to pull out the 0-3 month sleepers today - crazy!   I know it's cliche, but they really do grow way too fast.

He is really such a sweet baby, only crying when he's hungry or for a little while at night when he gets a bit fussy.  He's really a good sleeper already too, so that night time fussiness is simply because he wants to stock up on momma's milk for a long sleep.  Last night he slept for a five hour stretch and then a four hour stretch, only waking up once all night! 

He is such a little cuddle bug.  He loves to be rocked to sleep and always wants to be held.  Of course, with four other people loving on him, he's rarely set down anyways.  We are loving our Maya Wrap ring sling and Moby Wrap too, because he loves to be snuggled up with momma.

Last week was a little rough for me as I'm getting used to having three kids to take care of all day.  There were moments where all three were crying and mommy was in tears too, but we just took it one day at a time and hopefully this week will be a little bit easier.  It's an adjustment for sure, but I wouldn't have it any other way.  I feel so blessed to have three beautiful and healthy children to love on every day. 

One Week Old

Our littlest peanut is one week old already.  It's truly hard to believe that just a week ago he was still kicking away in my belly and we were getting more and more anxious to meet him.  Now that he is here, we cannot imagine our lives without him.

We are so enjoying every little noise, every sweet face, and every teeny tiny feature that makes him our Ollie.  He is nursing like a champ and definitely loves his momma's milk.  I can't stop staring at him happily drinking up momma's milk, watching as his eyes droop and he rolls over with that classic milk drunk look, milk drooling down his chin. 

His big brother and sister absolutely adore him.  They are constantly begging to hold him and give him kisses every chance they get.  They love to giggle at all the cute little noises he makes and when I lay him on a blanket on the floor they lay down next to him and just stare at him.

He is already getting stronger each day.  I caught him rolling onto his side several times in the last two days and his neck isn't nearly as wobbly anymore.  When he is awake, he is so alert, following our every move with his eyes and even turning his head to keep watching us.

He is quite the little cuddle bug too.  He loves to curl up in a little ball and fall asleep in my arms.   These newborn days are already going by so quickly, so I'm trying to soak up every moment and take mental snapshots before they are gone.

Today, I took all three kids on our first outing together.  We went grocery shopping, because our local grocery store has a tot spot that the big kids love to play in while I shop.  I pulled out the Maya Wrap ring sling I found at a rummage sale this summer and our littlest peanut was quite content the entire time being curled up next to mommy.  It felt good to get out of the house and know that I can manage outings with all three kids.

Daddy is just as smitten with our littlest peanut.  The moment he came home from work yesterday, he scooped Ollie up in his arms and sat on the couch cuddling with him, smiling and marveling at how tiny and sweet he is.  He teases me that he has to beg me to give him a turn holding Ollie, because I am absolutely and completely in love with him.

Tomorrow, Gramma Hanes is coming for a visit and we can't wait to introduce her to her newest grandson.  We are just as excited to introduce him to more family and friends in the weeks to come.  He is just the sweetest baby and we can't get enough of him!