Chase will officially be two months old this week. Guess what? He slept from 10:30-6:15 on Thursday night. We were elated. At 6:16, Beau turned to me and said, "Well, he will be sleeping through the night from now on". Ok! What this means: I feed him at 9:30, put him to bed right after, close the door to his room, and go get him at 6:30 in the morning.

Doesn't he cry?

The first two nights, he did. I had to pray and put my pillow over my head as I dealt with Mommy Guilt. But last night, he didn't make a peep. He slept 8 full hours, no problem. What a sweet baby!

As I recently read in a book, by allowing babies to eat in the middle of the night, we basically train them to eat in the middle of the night. It makes sense. He is gaining weight, is plenty chubby in the cheeks, and takes good feedings throughout the day. I need to sleep a full night to take care of my family. He needs to sleep a full night to grow and thrive. It is a good time to implement these changes. I have always been a proponent of the "cry-it-out" method of sleep training, but I have also always been hesitant to go full steam ahead with the process. I couldn't take my baby crying. Now I know that the process works, and that it is beneficial for all involved. Any hesitancy or guilt is gone, and we have a happy baby and a rested mama.

While nursing, I get a chance to read on my iPad. There is a free online library called Chest of Books. There is a huge, free section on health and nutrition. I have been so excited to explore! I read a book from 1921 by a holistic physician who claimed that his contemporary Americans ate an average of 125 pounds of sugar each year. At that time, diabetes and heart disease were beginning to be problematic. He warned his readers to cut down on their consumption of carbohydrate-rich foods and take in a diet rich in protein, vegetables, and fruits. How telling! 90 years later, we are reaping the poor health our great-great-grandparents sowed generations ago. And here we thought "paleo" was a hot new buzzword....

Still waiting

It is easier to check my blog than to call or text me about this baby.

Besides, I may bite the head of the next person who conversationally says, "you're STILL pregnant?!".

Have mercy.

Once I learned my dear doctor would be out of town again (third baby out of three, no joke) for my due date, I decided I would do the smart thing and take a dose of castor oil to ensure sweet baby would be here by the time she left.

Have mercy.

It was horrible. I have taken it before because I am impetuous and impatient. But I don't remember it being this bad. Two while ounces of thick oil in a cup is just disgusting. I was a little desperate. Anyways, all that happened was a terribly upset stomach and what naturally physiologically happens after taking that much straight oil. At least my body had enough sense to wait to deal with my nincompoopedness until after we were home from gymnastics.

So that was Thursday. Saturday I got the stomach flu. Every time I remembered the castor oil, I threw up. I know. I know.

So now my doctor is gone, I've tried in vain to induce labor, I've cleaned the baby's room and closet, organized all of our DVDs, hammered a bunch of pegs into the garage to hang things from, and now I am sitting and eating oranges and blogging. I feel...peaceful. No longer in any rush to get to labor. I think I am content to meet him whenever he decides he is ready to leave the warmth and comfort of my round, round belly.

Ahhhh.

Two Boys

One of these boys is not even born yet.  But here is his first picture.  Well, his first picture in which you can tell he is a human.

To God's glory, he looks healthy.  It is always nerve-wracking to go into the 20-week ultrasound.  I am aware of the fact that God holds all of the control and I have none, and still I get anxious to see if that new baby is going to be healthy or not.


He is not named.  If things are similar to the way they usually are, he will not be named until after we hold him for the first time.  19 weeks away!

Here is the other boy.  This is his first school picture.  Kindergarten, August 2011 at Stockdale Christian School.  My goodness.  The photographer got him to smile.  He looks so big.  And handsome.  He is progressing in reading faster than I have been able to do and he is slowly making new little friends.  It is a strange and familiar and big and small new world, but we are all hesitantly enjoying it.  Today was Inflatable Day, and the little ones and I got to go meet him at school to watch him play in his hard-earned bounce house.  He saw me and lit up, then ran away to join his classmates.  Ah, heartbreak.  Is this what growing up is like? At the end of the hour, he did hug me with tear-filled eyes, not wanting us to leave.  Definitely growing up.  Do I want to be independent? Do I want the familiarity of family? Luckily, these choices are small right now, but they are choices I know that I eventually need him to reconcile all by himself. 


My heart swells to be a mother.  I am assured all the more as the years pass by that this is the highest calling for a woman.  I can't imagine anything better, more fulfilling, more stretching.  I am grateful for the gift of one more little one to pass the slow days with.  God is so good.

A Week of Sick

My goodness.

We have been sick.

First, Rebecca had a cold and pinkeye. Then, on the day we tentatively ventured out in the car, Jackson said, "Mom...you know how sometimes people have tastes in their mouths that are disgusting?"

Yes...?

And then he threw up all over the car...the baby carrier...the diaper bag...my back and arm...

But not the fabric! Whoo hoo.

And then I got sick. And then Beau got sick. And darn it if that man is not still sick. I have never seen him stay on the couch this long, not in my ten years of being with him. Thankfully, mine only lasted about 24 hours.
But there are happy things happening around here, too. We got a present! A friend gave us her granddaughters' old Barbie Power Wheels, in perfect shape! It has kept us busy for many a lazy hour at home this week, in between sicknesses.
I got to sew. Luke 10-15 and my sewing machine have kept me from going a little batty over the past few days. This is a baby gift for a friend. She said she wears a lot of denim. Of course, Strawberry Patches had exactly what I was looking for. I kind of wanted to keep this one.
Paul, dear Paul, chewed up three dog beds, two towels, a lawn chair, and pawed this sweet girl's face with his muddy feet. I thought about photo-documenting all of the amusing damage, but I was too tired.
I had leftover fabric scraps from the sling...and a pair of torn-up old camo pants, so Roman has a new hat!
Three months old yesterday. He started to smile on cue this past week. My heart gets full with each precious grin. I could spend hours with him laying on my knees, looking up at me and giggling. It never gets old. Each new baby brings a new appreciation for all things Little and Cute.
"He tends His flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them close to His heart; He gently leads those that have young." Isaiah 40:11

The song of my heart!

A Blurry Recap of Week One

God is so gracious. Our baby is precious- he sleeps well and eats well. The older children are acclimating to our Big Change. Roman had a appointment at the pediatrician, and his mother could breathe a sigh of relief upon hearing that her baby is healthy and normal and growing.
Random excerpts from our crazy week:
Jackson, seeing his mommy for the first time after the birth:
"Mommy, why is your tummy still big? I know. There's another baby in there!"...

Friends and family bringing us nourishing and delicious meals...

...Knowing that many members of the Body are faithfully praying for us, so coveted after four very difficult days of unparalleled insomnia, anxiety, and panic...

...God hearing the prayers and granting me restful and deep sleep, mirroring that of the baby...Jackson, upon seeing his mommy nurse the baby the first few times,
"Hey! I didn't know those made milk!"...

...Rereading my favorite new-baby book...

...daily encouragement from my sister-in-law...

...observing the nightly game of underwear-on-the-head tag...
...This picture of my dear family...
...This tiny little guy...

My heart is full : )

Welcome, Baby Roman!

We had a bit of a surprise on Friday!

Roman Bradley Woodward

was given to us on January 29, 2010 at 8:11 p.m., weighing 6 pounds, 3 ounces. He is 19.7 inches long.

I had been having mild contractions throughout the night on Thursday, but nothing regular or exciting. Friday I woke up and had lost my mucous plug. With Rebecca, 7 hours after I lost my plug, she was here- so I was pretty sure the baby was coming soon.


However, the contractions stopped around 10 a.m. My girlfriend Krista brought me her birthing ball just in case, and I begged my husband to let me run some errands. He was apprehensive, knowing how fast Rebecca had come, but I assured him that the contractions had stopped and for heaven's sake, my due date was 8 days away, and surely the baby would not be so bold as to come before my baby shower, which was supposed to be Saturday at 11:30 a.m.(Here are the flowers and cookies from the cancelled shower that my dear sister-in-law brought to me in the hospital. Babies don't listen to rules).

So I ran some errands and came back home. While the children rode bikes around our street, I walked some laps. My contractions started back up again, and providentially, my husband's truck rolled down our street as the contractions increased in intensity and frequency. I was still in denial that this could possibly be real labor. Thankfully, Beau kept our walk confined to our street, because pretty soon, we decided we should call the hospital.

I went inside to shower and pack my bag and Beau called Jessie and my dad to come be with the kids. While packing and preparing, my water broke! That had never happened before, and I was quite thankful to be at home. Now we knew we had to go to the hospital. The reinforcements appeared, and Beau and I left for the hospital.

It was strange this time to be driving in broad daylight, chatting peacefully away. Jackson's birth brought us to the hospital at midnight. We raced to the hospital in a panic with Rebecca while I was in transition labor. This time, my contractions had stopped again and I was feeling a little silly that we were actually going to the hospital. But rules are- water breaks, go to the hospital. Plus, I tested positive for Group B Strep, so I was going to need two doses of antibiotics spaced four hours apart. So we went to Mercy Southwest.

We checked in around 2: 00 and the nurses took my history, making me sit the whole time.

The nurse asked me about pain medication.

"What is your acceptable level of pain?"

I shook my head stubbornly. "I don't want any medication, unless there is a big problem. No epidural, please. So I guess...level 10"?

The nurse looked at me. "Well, a '10' means you have passed out from pain, Jennifer."

"Let's say '9', then", I replied sheepishly.

I wanted to walk and move and restart my contractions, but I was not allowed to move until about 4 pm.

I got my antibiotics and then was given permission to pace the maternity ward. We probably made about 40 laps around the floor before I went into harder labor.

A sweet friend brought us magazines and coffee for Beau during our walking time, so I was able to read a sewing magazine while I got my second dose of antibiotics.

And if you've had a baby, you know the rest. The pain, as God promises, is intense- nearly overwhelming! My nurse let me stand up to labor, so I was able to lean over onto a raised bed. Beau is an amazing birth attendant, quite intuitive and a calming influence. He coached me through the rough contractions and let me squeeze the ever-lovin' heck out of his fingers as I passed through transition.

As we neared the end, I said I needed to push, and Beau told me that I had to wait one more contraction before they called the doctor. So we waited one more contraction, and I told the nurse I was going to push no matter what.

So I did. Twice.

And out came the baby.

And in came the doctor.

That makes two out of three times that the doctor has missed delivering my baby. When they are ready to arrive, they arrive quickly! But the nurses did a wonderful job and we had a healthy baby.

Then I got a reward. I had not been able to commit to a name for our son, so my husband took charge. He had me give him a list of names I liked. Then he wrote two names on a piece of paper and brought it with us to the hospital. He told me he would look at the baby and christen him with a name after he was born. After the delivery process was complete, I asked for his name and Beau looked at his list. Then he looked at the baby and gave him his name.

Roman Bradley Woodward.

I love it.


We got to go home the next day at three. We are very happy to be here. : )