My Surprise Babies

Anna, from In Honor of Design blog is instagraming about her surprise baby and the gift that she is.  I was thinking about if I had a surprise baby, and the first to come to mind was Eowyn.  We had the stomach flu that winter and I was nauseated for about two months.  But with 7 children, the flu had cycled through the family once and then the first to get it were re-infected by the last to get it...you get it: rough winter!  But sometime early Spring I had a day set apart from the kids' sickness when I had yet another wave of nausea and that time it dawned on me that I might be pregnant.  I took a test, and yes.  I hadn't had a cycle after Legolas (#7) so, it was a surprise.

I instantly got onto some website and calculated my due date and landed Christmas Eve!! I was so pumped! But then came my next surprise.

I went to the ob/gyn and she wanted a quick check ultrasound to confirm dates given my lack of cycle.  There was a darling, swimming and playing little ballerina (I didn't know it was a girl yet), 10 weeks old!! As I've said before, my Christmas Elf became myThanksgiving Turkey!  I was already almost two months along!  That was a real surprise!

So, that's the story that came first to mind...

but of course, I never did get a cycle after I got married.  Honeymoon baby.  I WAS surprised. I guess she wasn't "unplanned", although I certainly wasn't planning on anything, we were just open.  And as I counted my calendar dates from the office I was working in at the time, I began to hope.  Then I began to doodle girl names at my desk.  My husband did NOT believe me when I told him I thought I was pregnant.  We had to buy three boxes of tests.  I'm not sure WHAT I did wrong, but sure enough--I finally got that positive!  My husband, for one, was shocked.  I was ecstatic!

I guess Arwen counts as surprise baby #1.

We were trying and hoping by the time Aragorn was conceived.  But at 9 months out, with no cycle yet, Gimli was our second true surprise.

I didn't think of him as a "surprise" baby, because I (in my very youthful enthusiasm) had already been hoping for another.  But when I told my husband I thought I might be pregnant (as I whipped up spaghetti at 2 in the afternoon to satisfy an insatiable craving), he said, "you can't be: you haven't had a cycle yet".  Well, shock #2 for my husband, and our beloved Gimli came as the best gift his big brother could have ever received.  At 18 months apart, those two have been each other's greatest gifts.

So, I think that's it.  Three TRUE surprise babies.  Two conceived with no cycle in between babies.

For YEARS I could count how many cycles I had in our marriage on one hand.  But that's probably TMI for the inter webs! lol

Time to dash!  Have a great weekend!

On life, and death

My husband's father passed into eternal life on February 16th.  That was the reason we had spent Christmas 1500 miles away: to be with him for a final holiday. We had the luxury, and the great blessing, of knowing his time was short.  He also was not a young man, but 86.  He had lived a good, full life.  The hardest part was that he was still so strong and vibrant when he was diagnosed back in October.  It still seemed like he was taken unnaturally soon.

But we were able to prepare our children, and ourselves.  Except, I now see, there is no preparing.  You have to live it out, the loss, one step at a time.  

My husband had flown down 8 days before his death and was able to say goodbye.  We had daily updates, and my husband had a plane ticket purchased to go one more time.  That ticket was never used.  I was at ballet with my little girls when I got a text: "call me when you get a chance".  I thought  it was a family orchestration text, that I'd have to dash off to get the next kid to basketball.  I heard my husband's voice on the other line: "my dad died at 8:15 this morning."

You wouldn't think it would hit you like that.  Not when you knew it would happen.  But I was shocked.  And in the middle of a waiting room full of pink tulle and moms on phones.  I took deep breaths and tried to keep the tears in.

 My sister was due any day with her fourth baby, a boy, named for an angel: Rafael, "God heals".   She happens to have two-year-old twins, and I happen to love being 30 seconds down the road from their house, so I can be on call when she's in labor.  I had to leave to make a cross-country trek for a funeral instead.

 We found a friend to keep our dog this time (best decision ever!), but took Wilma, and headed out.

 The deep snow of the midwest gave way to the scape of the southwest, one more time.

I think that long drive was healing.  Long long hours to talk, to reflect, to process, to think.  To cry.

And then, then we walked into that home.  My in-laws home.

And it felt so. very.  empty.

But there was joy.  The death had been holy.  There had been a victory--the victory of a life well-lived triumphing over death in the hope of resurrection.  There was a woman of faith, made strong by grace.  My mother-in-law, bearing the loss of her husband with incredible strength, faith, hope.

We all talked, remembered, and cried together for two days.  Then there was the funeral, and the burial.  Family members flew in from across the country.  More tears, and long long hugs.  Abundant grace.

Then something of a let-down, and a quiet after the ceremonies passed.  Sadness.  A need to buoy each other up.  To remind one another of the graces received, of the gifts and the joy and the hope.  Newfound resolve, for the days do pass, and the world doesn't wait long for those who mourn.  And we found ourselves looking at the return, just a week after we had arrived.

Back home there were rumblings of impending labor.  As we drove, there were texts.  Hopeful texts, excited texts.  Hours away from home, that final 14-hour day of driving, we received the play-by-play.  Her husband was home, my mom was on-call from work.  Now they are off, my mom had the kids.  Waiting.  Driving.

The announcement: he is here!!  A beautiful, healthy nephew!  A new life to meet, precious and fresh.

A new soul, beginning it's journey home.

We are all journeying home.