One year ago . . .

Wow. Nearly 1 year ago, we were driving Ava to the emergency room because our thermometer gave a reading of 105.1. When we got to the hospital, they took it twice - first time was 106. Second time was 106.2 - I nearly lost it. What in the world was wrong with our little girl? I was ready to FREAK OUT.

Every year starting in the fall, Ava would get sick. And every year, it was getting worse.

Three years old - doctor says she has reactive airway disorder. Okay cool. Gives us two inhalers and a pill to take. Doesn't really seem to help her but whatever - follow the doctor. Then gets strep throat. Takes antibiotics. Goes away but comes back. So antibiotics again.

Next year - 4 years old. Gets strep throat TWICE. So two long rounds of antibiotics because again, the first round doesn't quite kick it to the curb. Plus always has her horrible coughing attacks. Getting a little more nervous. But whatever. Do as I'm told.

Following year. Five years old. I'm in the ER. She has 106.2 temp. I didn't even have to wait the six hours in the ER that you hear about - they just took us right in. Doctor came right in as we walked in. Someone came in with a bag labeled "stat" and started drawing blood. And I'm standing there helpless. And pregnant. What in the world is happening? Also thinking "how much is this costing me right now? I mean, I don't care - help my daughter. But oh man. The bill will be coming."

I'm still paying the bill.

That was the week I bought my oils. That was the week my life changed. That was the week I thought, I have to do something else. I have to try something else. This isn't working. Things are getting worse. Forget what I was doing. Why would I keep doing what wasn't working? Just FREAKING STOP.

This year was awesome. I threw away her inhalers and pills two weeks ago because they were expired. We haven't had to use them. She wasn't on antibiotics this past year. She didn't have strep throat. She's good. We're good. Haven't paid a co-pay for her this year. Yes, I'm still paying last year's hospital bill but whatever - at least I'm not adding to it. There are no more tums in my medicine cabinet. No pepto. No claritin. Threw them out. Expired. Haven't used them. We have benadryl for Tony and his epi-pen of course - we're not insane. But other than that? Our bathroom cupboards are pretty bare.

So yeah, nearly one year ago I decided to be different. I wasn't just going to stand there and be told. I started to move. And oh boy. Have things moved.

Maybe she wished she could lactate

I have so many questions for my dog child Rubi - does she regret not being able to have children? Does she wish she could lactate? All I know is this - anything breast milk touches, she chews up. It's like she's a freaking meth addict who waits until everyone leaves and then BAM - she's off to find her fix. She has eaten many of my shirts since we brought Jackson home from the hospital - she literally eats two holes through them - coincidentally enough, the holes happen to be in the exact same area where my milk bags reside when I am wearing the shirt. Hmmmm. Just the other day she somehow managed to pull my breast pump off of a stool, pull out the boob sucker things and ATE THEM TO PIECES. I yelled, she ran, and I had to run off to target that night to buy more lactation equipment. The VERY NEXT DAY she did the same thing.

That's when I got tears in my eyes.

I was so mad. I was so mad at my freaking dog. I was so mad at myself that I didn't put my pump up higher so that she couldn't reach it (I mean, I should have learned my lesson right? It was just 24 hours prior when she did the same thing), I was so mad that I feel like I run around all day and rush home as soon as I can to be with my babies. So there came the tears. 

I went to work today with only one suction cup breast thingy for my pump. Which means it would take me twice as long to pump since I could only do one side at a time. So when I was leaving for work this morning, I was not looking forward to my pumping sessions for the day. Then as I got halfway to work, I realized I didn't bring my freaking joy oil. Holy smokes. The day was not starting well. You know if I don't have my oils I may die right? 

So around noon, I shut and lock the door to my office, I pull out the one boob sucker thing, and I start making my free range, organic milk. With my other hand now free since I'm not pumping two boobs, I actually am able to drink my water, have a snack, play some candy crush, and sort of lean to the side in a relaxed position. 

Then the tears started again.

My boob suckers were meant to be eaten. I needed to only have one. I needed to sit and take my time - no rushing. I needed to stop and just be - the Lord needed me to just stop. JUST STOP. Don't rush. Take my freaking time. I am pulled in so many directions and I was losing my focus on the Lord. Because that's when everything starts to go wrong isn't it? When our eyes are not focused above. I have learned that lesson many times.

So I regrouped. I remembered why I am here on earth - to bring glory to God. That's it. That's the reason. 

My joy oil is ready for me in the kitchen when I wake up. I just washed my one boob sucker so that I can take it tomorrow to work. And now that I am reminded in a quite amusing way where the Lord needs to be, everything settles in quite nicely, doesn't it? 

And you know the tears started to flow again as I wrote that last part right? 

Yep, back on track.

-Emily

Things I know for sure . . .

Ahhhh, children are in bed, my breast pump stuff is washed and drying for tomorrow, and Tony put clean sheets on our bed today - all is well in the world.

I just rubbed a drop of peppermint oil on my stomach diluted because my tummy was feeling a little out of wack. Mommies can't be out of wack. And yes you read that right - I used only one drop. Just one. These oils are so powerful and pure and I respect that. Less is more in the oil world. And then they last for a long time. Ah, I love not paying for Ava's asthma meds anymore. Because that whole med fiasco kept turning into MORE - "oh you need to have her take TWO inhalers now, not just the one." Ugh, no - give me less.

I do love modern medicine too though - it seriously is brilliant. Organ transplants, reattaching limbs, etc. You should have seen how amazing doctors were helping my niece after she was born with a kidney issue that I can't even pronounce. Seriously amazing. And I only saw some of it. My sister saw the whole dang thing. But some peppermint for a tummy issue? Yes please. Hold the Tums.

There are some things I wish I had more of - like time. Or more hands. Or a housekeeper. But that really wouldn't help me now would it? If I had more time, I would just be busier. If I had more hands, they would be doing other things and not focusing on holding my babies. If I had a housekeeper, I would probably feel the need to tidy up before she arrived so what's the freaking point in that?

Here's a list of things I know for sure:
1. The Lord needs to be first. Believe me.
2. I will never buy another Nissan.
3. If you are carrying a bunch of items in your arms, your child WILL find you and WILL walk slowly right in front of you.
4. Always have water with you when nursing your child. As soon as your child starts to suck your milk bags, you will feel like you will DIE OF THIRST.
5. Learning how to type in high school was one of the greatest skills I learned.
6. Getting laser eye surgery will change your life.
7. One day, I will go to heaven.
8. I love my husband more today than I did when we got married.
9. Disneyland is the happiest place on earth. Unless your child is screaming. Or unless someone is standing near you with an undercooked turkey leg. Then it's not the happiest.
10. If you have a small child, they will need you as soon as you sit down for a meal.                                    
11. Take care of your automobiles.
12. My arthritis/joint pain is basically non-existent when I don't have dairy.
13. Having good boundaries with people will change your life.
14. Saying no is perfectly fine.
15. Act your wage (shout out to Dave Ramsey right here)
16. My children mean the world to me. I pray for them EVERY SINGLE DAY.
17. You do not need to know how to fold a fitted sheet. If you do know how to fold a fitted sheet, I will still like you.
18. Giving parenting advice is always a wonderful idea (I HOPE YOU ARE PICKING UP MY SARCASM).
19. Never ask someone if they are pregnant.
20. Children will have to poop whenever you leave the house.

Happy Thursday everyone.

-Em

I want a do-over

So I haven't mentioned this to anyone but Tony but I want a do-over. I would love if you could rewind time and back it up to when I thought my water broke early Sunday morning on March 16th. I want to stay at home that day and see if I could wait until Monday the 17th when I would of had a different anesthesiologist for my c-section. And the past few times recently that I've had to go back to my doctor for a postpartum check or to pick up a doctor's note, the smell of everything in those offices brings me right back to all of those prenatal appointments and feeling Jackson move inside of me. And I see all of those pregnant women in there and I wish it was me sitting there waiting to be called. Waiting to hear my son's heartbeat on the doppler. It's not that I'm wanting a third child - I want to re-do what happened. Because some parts I loved and I want to go through it again. And some parts were really hard and I wish it could be changed.

I loved so many parts of Jackson's birth and staying in the hospital. We were relaxed walking into the hospital, we felt calm and prepared, the nurses prepping me for surgery were great, Ava was being cared for back at home - just perfect.

Then the anesthesiologist started his work. I'm hunched over a table, trying to stay calm, yes I'm a little nervous of course but I've had a c-section before so I'm not freaking out. And my right leg just jolts up as I feel this electric current through my back and down the back of my leg. It hurt. Bad. And then I start tearing up but it just keeps hurting as I feel the pressure on my back and the pain. So now I'm crying and the nurse sort of jokingly says, "Awe Dr. so and so, you made her cry." So I try to laugh too thinking, ok that's over now, just take everything in right now - your son is about to be born.

Well then I just can't seem to stop the tears flowing from my eyes. I'm trying to lay there and appear so happy and as though "I've got this" but I can't stop crying. And then all of the tugging and pushing and I can't seem to calm down. I start to feel sick to my stomach and I try to ask the doctor for help. But he seems to have ADHD or something and was not sitting right by my head like the doctor who was with me when I had Ava. So he finds his way over and says, "remember -we talked about this - you may feel sick." Sort of in a condescending way like I'm a child. Sort of in a way that gets me to stop talking. And then more tugging, can't breathe well because everyone's reaching in everywhere - and then I hear crying. Awesome cries coming from our baby. And I just tried to just focus on his crying and listening for his stats to get myself through the final part of this surgery. I hear someone say "8 pounds 11 ounces!" And I remember thinking "wow, he's a big boy." But then the dry heaving started and I thought I might choke or aspirate on my vomit. They brought Jackson over to my face so I could see him and everyone around me is happy, and talking, and there's music playing, and all I can do is nod to show "yes, I see him." But I really just wanted them to take him away. Because I felt so sick.

I want to do that whole part over. I want it to be different.

Everything after that was great. I mean, seriously awesome. Ava got to hear the news first that she had a brother. She got to see him first and we just hung out together - our new family of 4. We had so few visitors which is what we wanted - I nursed whenever Jackson wanted to, didn't have to worry about modesty at all, loved the nurses that helped me and brought me drinks. It was all about caring for my baby, healing from surgery, and just taking it all in. When I had Ava, I felt like it was all about visitors and me thinking "let me wait until they leave to feed her" - it wasn't about healing and caring for my baby. It was caring for my company. And that was wrong.

So this part, after having the baby but still being in the hospital was AWESOME. The nurses were on it. It was amazing. I loved getting up at night when Tony and Jackson were asleep and cleaning up the room, putting everything in it's place. I would walk at night around the hall and then feed Jackson while watching Law & Order SVU on the tv. Tony got my oils out and gave me a foot massage with my orange oil. The room smelled delicious and clean from that oil. We opened the blinds every day and the sun shined in. Ava did her homework afterschool with us at the hospital. An old friend from my swim team days was a nurse there and came into see me and we talked and talked one night. The lactation consultant was the same one I had with Ava and we talked about where she moved recently and where her boys went to school. I felt like a mommy again. I felt wonderful.

I know I can't have a do-over. I get that. And I'm not one to dwell on things very long so I don't know why this keeps coming up for me. So that's why I figured, maybe I need to write everything out - just to get it all out.

I love my babies like you wouldn't believe. And I know I can't do the parts over that I wished were different.

But I still want a do-over.

-Emily

Happy Father's Day!

It's 4am and I'm wide awake. Like, let's get involved in a trivia match right now because I'd just freaking kill it. I think it's because for almost 3 months now, Jackson has wanted to eat every 1 hour and 45 mins round the clock and for the past week or so, he's decided, "You know, now I think I will sleep for 6 hours straight." SIX HOURS. Ho-lee-mother I am so well rested and stoked right now I seriously considered digging out some workout clothes and going for a morning jog. But then I thought, "it's dark outside - what if I run into a coyote?" So then I briefly thought about doing the dishes but I shuddered so here I am blogging instead.

It's also father's day today which I love. I love watching Tony with his babies. They love him. He loves them. And he gets to be with them every darn day. I freaking love that. Because he gives something to our family that I can't give because I'm a mommy. If Ava's scared or thinks she heard something, it's all about daddy. Daddy will fix it. Daddy will make sure I'm safe.

The other night, we were coming home from something and as Tony was unlocking the door, he must have sensed something wasn't right so he went inside to check everything. He just opened the door, said "don't come in - wait right here" like his ears or something alerted to who-knows-what. Everything turned out fine so I'll save you the suspense, but just knowing his strong presence was there to do whatever manly thing needed to be done - I love that. He would stand between us and danger in a second. And we feel safe.

He doesn't just contribute safety to the family in case you're thinking we just use him as our bodyguard. He's the one who doesn't freak out if someone is hurt. He sets an even tone for chaos. He's the let-me-cook-you-breakfast-in-the-morning (did you catch that people? COOK. The most I do is put cereal bowls out in the morning). He loves reading Shel Silverstein to our children. He just started reading the Harry Potter series to Ava. He can totally give "the look" and Ava knows he means business. *I have a look too by the way but when it doesn't work, I've totally resulted to "I'm going to have to tell your dad when he gets home" and it immediately straightens our child out.

So fathers are a really big deal. Like, really big. And part of me right there wanted to say they are bigger than mommies - that's how important they are. Some of you might disagree with me on that point. But deep down in my gut, it just feels right to say. I know I'm important to my children. But I KNOW Tony is important to his children. Maybe it's because I know what it's like when the dad is not too "with it." But now that I'm married and have children and see how awesome Tony is with Ava and Jackson, dang it means so much to have an awesome Father, you know? And biblically, hello! Referring to the Lord as our Father and everything that means - Father's are a big deal! A huge deal.

Happy Father's Day people. Your families need you more than you may think.

-Emily

Three Minutes

Three minutes - that was my goal time to spend in the shower relaxing and breathing with no one around. Like, with no interruptions. Just three minutes. Now, Jackson was in his bassinet in the bathroom with me so I sort of had a stalker anyway. But with the shower curtain closed, I had a few minutes, I hoped, to myself. About 45 seconds in, Ava pulled the curtain back because she wanted to show me a magic trick. A magic trick with a blueberry. And she needed to attempt it twice because the first time, the blueberry rolled away. So now I'm lathering up nodding my head with an energetic encouraging smile on my face to show her I am interested and I am freaking amazed by this blueberry trick. I totally love her.

Since the curtain is pulled back, I notice she still has no shoes on for school. And Jackson has a toy laying right on his face. Cute. So now I'm laughing because this whole situation makes me laugh and because, who was I kidding? I wasn't going to get 3 minutes today in the shower with no interruptions.

I am just taking this all in right now because one day, my children won't live here with me and I will wish Ava was little again to show me her blueberry magic trick. Lathering myself up in some mood elevating oils helps too.

Happy Thursday everyone!

-Em

Yeah, I TOTALLY know what's going on

So I haven't looked into it yet, but maybe there's an oil for forgetfulness due to being tired/being milked/being tired. There must be! And I will find it! Because I just keep forgetting everything and then when people talk to me, they assume I know exactly what they are talking about but I don't. OR as they are talking it then jogs my brain and I remember! BUT I can't make it too obvious that at first I didn't know what they were talking about and then the light bulb came on.

Because at first I'm overly confident and I'm thinking "clearly, this sweet person is talking to the wrong person but I'll just nod along politely because that's how I roll" and then BAM - in my head the memory floods right back and I think, holy crap! Ava DOES have Sarah's birthday party tomorrow and this lady is asking me about it. Do I know this person? Is this Sarah's mom (which would  be even MORE horrifying)? No wait - I don't think it's Sarah's mom but it is clearly someone from Ava's daisy troop. And now she has PAUSED which clearly indicates she asked me a question while I was kicking myself and I now have to come up with a response. Oh my.

I have found laughing and smiling does the trick sometimes for two reasons - 1) It just may be an accepted response to the situation and no one gets hurt when we go our separate ways. 2) It may show I was confused and then they will have some pity on me and we can still be friends.

I wasn't always like this. I swear! I was very good with names, people, faces, etc. I wrote things in my calendar but who are we kidding? That was just for show because I would have remembered the appointment, the weekly schedule, the month and year Tony had his last root canal (yes, he has had more than one). I used to be ON FIRE. Now, the fire is clearly gone and I am at the mercy of my phone reminders or I just forget anyway after I turn the phone reminder off (sigh).

I walked excitedly into a place the other day to have a couple hours of pampering with no children and without being milked and the lovely man at the desk asked me who I was there to see. I confidently and clearly stated "Tessa" because I just knew I couldn't possibly have the name wrong of the person who was going to let me hang out in their establishment kid-less. Oh no. The lovely man had a blank look on his face. I started to panic. He turns to the woman next to him who then looks at me. So I began to just ramble - "Oh I must have heard the name wrong. I'm sorry. I have a newborn. I'm always tired (insert please-help-me-smile). This rambling seemed to have helped because a customer in the store reached out and touched my arm and smiled. So that was nice. So they handed me over to someone named Stephanie (probably the closest name to Tessa they could find in their establishment so that I wouldn't feel too bad) and all was well again.

So I'm hoping this just lasts for a little bit longer because having my old brain back would be really nice. And I think it will. I am hopeful (insert smiley face). BUT I am going to search for an oil for this because there's an oil for everything else so I am confident!

Happy Saturday!

-Emily