The story of Tait. (part 1)

Last week, my middle baby turned 5. Because her birthday is on July 2, it gets smooshed into the festivities of the 4th of July holiday. However, it also lends itself to a lot of playing outside, swimming, and fireworks. What kid doesn't like that? But as we celebrate Tait's birthday, I also reflect back on my pregnancy with her, her birth, and infancy. It was a beautiful time. It was a hard time. It was a scary time. And it was a time where I grew closer to my Savior than I ever thought possible.

This is the story of Tait.

When Mary Emma was 2, Spencer and I decided that it was time to try to get pregnant again. I am very fortunate in that I get pregnant EASILY. So when we decided that it was time, I was pregnant in no time flat. After a trip to NYC, a torn arch in my foot, a cast, a DVT (MAJOR blood clot), and a hospital stay, I lost that baby at about 9 weeks. I was heartbroken. But I was determined to have another baby. So about a year later, I got pregnant again. I lost that baby at about 11 weeks. The doctors started running tests on my blood and realized that I have a situation with my blood that causes it to thicken when my estrogen levels increase (ie. pregnancy), and I was most likely losing the babies because of mini blood clots that were trying to pass through the teeny umbilical cord. So the doctors had me begin taking Heparin shots to thin my blood and fix the problem. And I got pregnant again. And lost that baby, too.

DEVASTATED.

I was hesitant to get pregnant again. I was heartbroken. I was tired. I was having to give myself 2 shots a day in the stomach. I had a beautiful 3 year old daughter. I was trying to be content with 1 child. But I wanted another child. Desperately. So I turned it over to God and trusted that He would take care of me and the baby that I longed for.

And I got pregnant again. And this time, I didn't lose the baby. But I was disconnected. I was hesitant. I was terrified.

I refused to get close to this baby. Spencer and I wouldn't name her. We didn't decorate a nursery until the last possible minute. We went about life as usual. At 34 weeks I didn't feel her move for an entire day. I. Freaked. I called my doctor who sent me straight to the hospital. I was having contractions every 2 minutes. I spent a weekend in the hospital and went home 3 days later on bed rest. I needed to keep this baby in for at least 4 more weeks. But 6 days later, she was coming and there was no stopping her. Because I was 35 weeks, they wouldn't stop my labor anymore. 6 hours, 1 failed epidural (read: natural childbirth), an entire host of on-call doctors because of the holiday weekend, and 3 pushes later, a beautiful 7lb 5oz baby girl was born. We named her Virginia Tait. Virginia was after my mother and grandmother. Tait was a name I just liked. It's different. It's sweet. And it fits her to a T. I remember crying and begging her to breathe. I didn't get to hold her. She breathed ok for a minute, and then started struggling. She was whisked out of my room and to the nursery before I really knew what was happening. The hospital where she was born didn't have a NICU. It was at a hospital across town. She was taken by ambulance to that hospital. I stayed at the 1st hospital. It was a holiday weekend. I was in a new town and state. I had very few friends and all of them were out of town. I had a beautiful baby girl who I couldn't see or hold. It was a horrible day and one of the best days of my life all combined into one.

The next morning, I was released from the hospital and went directly to the other hospital to be with her. I sat and held her almost around the clock. I was so swollen from the massive amounts of IV fluids that I had received (my blood pressure kept crashing) that I didn't have any shoes that would fit on my feet. And as I sat in the NICU, I realized how disconnected I had kept myself from her. I didn't think she knew that I loved her. So I sat. And I held her or kept a hand on her (she was on a ventilator for 2 days). And I told her over and over and over again that I loved her. Because I did. I loved her more than I knew was possible. I loved her like I loved her big sister. But I sobbed because this beautiful baby, who was fighting for her life, didn't know that her mama loved her. And she deserved the world.

I felt like I had already failed her.

And I started praying. I have been a Christian since I was a small child. But I was going through one of those super stubborn times where I was too self sufficient to NEED anyone and was completely content to do it all on my own. I certainly didn't need a God to take over. Because there was a chance that He wouldn't do what I wanted. And I wasn't gonna have any of that. In other words, I was STUPID. But my desire for God to take care of this baby clearly was overriding my need to be in control and I hit my knees. And you know what? He was there. He is always there. He never left, even though I pushed and pushed Him away. He was faithful just as it says in Psalm 145:13 (NIV) "The Lord is faithful to all his promises and loving toward all he has made." Praise His Name.

So 6 days later, we were able to bring Tait home. Our sweet little family of 3 was now a busy, sleepless family of 4.

And then we started to realize that something else was wrong. Tait had some symptoms that were pointing to something being wrong, but no one knew what that was.

I started to think that we were going to lose yet another child. But this one had been born. She was alive. She had stolen our hearts. And again, we were scared to death.

To be continued.....

Ok, So I've Been Busy

Dear Bloggy Peeps,

I promise I haven't forgotten about you. I've just been busy. June is notorious for kicking my tail and it didn't disappoint this year, either.

We've been doing a WHOLE LOT of this:




And some of this:


And some of this:



And a lot of this:


And we got this precious ball of fluffiness - I'd like to introduce you to Piper, our 9 week old ShihTzu. She is EXACTLY like a toddler except she sleeps in the bathroom. She is into EVERYTHING!


Hope you're having a fantastic, restful, not-too-hot (HA!) summer. I'll be back soon. I promise.

Hugs,

Summertime in the South? I Got it Covered.

It's softball season. All-Star season to be exact. Which means I'm spending more time outside than inside. Unless you've never had the privilege of visiting the deep south, you understand that it's HOT outside. And humid. And did I mention hot?

Besides various forms of fans and cool clothing and tents to sit under and an insane amount of bottled water, I am always ALWAYS looking for a good sunscreen. Since my high school days of slathering myself in baby oil and laying out on aluminum foil have (thankfully) come to an end, I have turned into my grandmother and rarely leave the house without some sort of sunscreen on my face, at the very least. A couple of years ago, I accidentally discovered Neutrogena's line of sunscreen (and by accidentally, I mean that it was on sale, and since we go through sunscreen at a breakneck pace, I'm always looking for a sale) and fell in love with it. Mainly because it smells divine. And it WORKS. So when the lovely Neutrogena people asked me to review their new UltraSheer® Liquid Daily Sunblock, I happily agreed. It came in the mail last week, just in time for our 2nd tournament. So Saturday, as I was planning to spend a scorching day at the ballpark, I applied it under my makeup before I left the house. It's so light that you can't feel it at all. It has SPF 70 (SEVENTY! Take THAT, sun!). It, like their other products, smells great (unlike a certain me who sat in the 100 degree heat all day). It worked great. I re-applied it twice (I mean, hello, I sweated all my makeup off within the first 30 seconds of being outside) because I was constantly wiping my face. I wore another brand of sunscreen on my legs and arms - both of which got a little pink. But my face didn't get sunburned. It also didn't break out, which I was totally expecting to happen. Because every mid-30 aged woman loves to have the acne issues of a 14 year old boy, right? Um, no.

So, after one use, I'm a fan. We have another tournament this weekend AND next weekend (merciful heavens), and unless Alabama's climate suddenly turns to Montana's climate, it'll be hot and humid again. I'll be using Neutrogena UltraSheer® Liquid Daily Sunblock again. Because if it can survive an Alabama summer at the ballpark, I'll be a customer for a LOOOONNNG time.




Would you like to review UltraSheer®, too? Then go to http://www.giantwavepool.com/ultrasheer

Or get $2 off your UltraSheer® purchase at http://www.neutrogena.com/suncoupon.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received the product mentioned above for free for review purposes from Tidal Labs. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."

Pray for Ella

This is Ella. She is 2 years old. She is the daughter of Sheli, who was in my sorority pledge class at Auburn, and Robert. She is Cole's little sister.

And she has cancer.

Ella was diagnosed yesterday with Stage 3 Adrenal Carcinoma after a orange-sized tumor was taken out of her abdomen. Along with the tumor, one of her adrenal glands was also taken. Sheli and Robert will meet with the docs Thursday, which is also their 10th wedding anniversary, to discuss the next steps. Chemo will begin immediately.

I have watched the blog community rally around parents of sick kids. I have been in on the rally so many times. I have watched the power of prayer change lives. And now I'm begging you to do the same for Sheli, Robert, & Cole - and especially sweet little Ella. I can't imagine their heartbreak and outright fear right now. I do know a God who is bigger than their heartbreak. He is bigger than their fear. And He is bigger than this cancer. Sheli and Robert are clinging to their Savior right now. Please join them in praying for complete healing for this precious child.

Please, please, lift up this family. I will keep you updated.

Baby Steps.

It has been exactly 11 weeks and 3 days since I first mentioned the weight loss journey that I have started.

Eleven weeks and three days. Wow. I had no idea how much time had passed. It's a little surreal to take note of the time that has passed since I made a decision to change everything I knew about living a healthy lifestyle. Everything.

So, quickly, here's an update. I have lost 22 lbs. I ran (for the most part) 2 miles a few days ago. I feel great. I can see noticeable changes in my body. I'm strong and love ab workouts (I'm sorry, who is this person?). I'm doing the Shred Level 3 and am kicking it. And I'm very pleased with the progress that I've made.

I'm having success in some areas. My trainer, Beth, who I adore. ADORE. - She is the real deal and has become such a dear friend and mentor - stepped up my workouts yesterday. There was NO WAY I could've done 1/4 of what she had me do the first day I worked out with her. I'm wearing clothes that I haven't worn in a while. I wore a sleeveless dress today. Whattheheck? (Still not quite sure I'm ready for the sleeveless, but it was HOT outside and I was at the ballpark and a pool party blah blah blah...). I'm sleeping well and have more energy now. I'm eating fish (I hated fish). I still refuse to eat cottage cheese (wink, Beth). I guess some things never change. :)

But.

I'm struggling in some areas. Mostly food related. As I said in my previous post, I prayed for a while for the Lord to take away some certain cravings that have hindered any sort of weight loss or living healthy for years. And He did. They are gone. I'm still amazed by the grace that He pours out on little ole me every single day. The craziest part of my struggles with food lately have been the fact that I'm not eating enough. I can't seem to get my calories up. And, according to Beth, my body will soon begin to think it's starving and I'll quit losing weight. HELLO, that's SO not what I want.

So here are my thoughts on this... (FYI, this is some personal stuff, people. This is HARD to write in a public arena. But I honestly feel that transparency is my best ally right now. I'm sick of hiding. I'm sick of pretending that I'm ok when I'm living in a not-quite-as-jacked-up 7Eleven. I'm straight up sick of it. I will never ever get better if I bury my head in the sand and pretend that none of this exists - like I have done for waaayyy too many years.) I believe with all my heart that I'm finally getting a grasp on this food "addiction" that I had/have. However, there's some MAJOR FEAR associated with conquering something that has been such a stronghold on my life for so long. I'm scared of eating too much, so I eat too little. My fear of going back to who I was (in reality, in some ways still am), is causing me to overcompensate and not eat enough. I want this lifestyle that I have adopted to last forever. And I know that if I don't figure it all out, I'll go back to old me. This is where the baby step aspect of this whole thing makes me want to pull my hair out. I want major results NOW. I want to lose an insane amount of weight just like The Biggest Loser. I want it all to move so much quicker! This is the area that makes Beth want to take one of those dumbbells that she constantly puts in my hands and hit me over the head with it. She can see the end result so much clearer than I can. She has more faith in me than I do.

The years of self doubt and self sabotage are staring me in the face and are challenging me to a duel. Who will win?

Good thing I'm competitive. Good thing I have a God who WILL NOT fail me. Good thing His word says that He will complete a work in me. Good thing that God is who He says He is and will do what He says He will do. Praise Him.

I will win this battle. Then I will win the war - 7 jillion baby steps from now (grrr.). I will go through struggles and frustrations (like now) but I will see this thing to the end. I. Will.

Thank you for journeying with me. You have NO IDEA what you mean to me.

Love you all -

Tap Shoes, Tutus, and Travis

Ok. So I have weird dreams. Frequently. I usually remember bits and pieces of them, but not the entire thing.

Last night, however, I had a bizarre dream that I remember from start to finish. Every detail.

And I'm still laughing.

It all started with my daughter, Tait's, dance recital. Fran and I were watching our daughters dance (Fran doesn't have a daughter IRL - she has sons, but my dreams don't discriminate because of details) when we realized that we were supposed to dance with them in a mother/daughter routine. But we had a problem. We didn't have our costumes.

So we ran outside, jumped in our waiting car (which was driven by none other than Travis) and headed to the house to pick up our costumes. We laughed and sang To the King while we were driving and pulled up in Travis's driveway so Fran and I could run inside and pick up our costumes. Travis's house was the exact same house as the one where I lived in Tallahassee, and he was having a HUGE party there, but was for some reason skipping the party so he could drive us around. We went inside, put on our tutus (Fran and me - not Travis, although that would've been an EXCELLENT detail), but couldn't find our tights or tap shoes. As we frantically searched Travis's house, we quickly discovered that he put a table in front of every single door in the house, so to get in or out, we had to crawl under a table. We were annoyed with Travis, who was laughing hysterically (while wearing a sweater vest, I might add), because our tutus made table crawling a little difficult.

We decided to hang around for a minute and enjoy Travis's party (while wearing tutus) when Travis stole my iPhone and changed the language on the phone to Arabic. We got back in the car to head back to the recital (we decided that tights and tap shoes were mere details that we could live without). Fran drove, I sat in the front seat trying to fix my iPhone, but every time I tried to check the weather app, it would tell me weather in Saudi Arabia, and Travis sat in the back and sang John Denver songs.

And then I woke up.

You're welcome.

9 Years Old

Dear Mary Emma,

9 years ago at 12:21 pm, my world flipped upside down when you made your dark-haired appearance into this world. You were 9 days late, so I was quite ready for you to make up your mind to come on, but the doc had to induce anyway. I guess you were content to do things at your leisure. You still are.

You had black, curly hair that was blond by the time you turned 1. You are smarter than your daddy and I put together. And we knew it from the moment you arrived. You slept well (slept through the night at 4 weeks old), ate well, and made us laugh every single day - still do.



You decided when you were 3 that you want to be a vet when you grow up. I think you'll make a mighty fine vet. But you have to get over your fear of bugs first. Because where there are animals, there are always bugs.

You play softball harder and with more passion than most kids I know. You love to get dirty on the field and throwing a strike thrills you (and your daddy) more than anything in the world. But you want your hair bow to match your uniform and you want to look cute. You look up to Jennie Finch and Taylor Swift. You have met both of these ladies and the look on your face was priceless.



You love fried catfish with a passion that cracks me the heck up. You hate green beans with an equal passion.

You have sweet, precious, friends. If I could choose your friends for you, I would've chosen the same kids. Your best friends are Raegan, Sadie, Sarah Grace, Jada, and Lindsey.



You don't like math, but are a human calculator. You are SO GOOD at it. You love science, which makes your science geek mommy very happy. You are excited that your 4th grade classroom next year will be upstairs. Apparently "upstairs" is a huge milestone for a kid at your school.

You love your little sisters so much. You are THE BEST big sister to them. People have commented to me about how motherly you are to them and you take time for them no matter what else is going on. They think you hung the moon. So do your daddy and I.



You have a heart for people that is unusual for someone your age. Your preschool teacher used to marvel at the fact that you genuinely hurt for people who were sad and were happy for people who were happy. You love Jesus with your whole heart and enjoy learning scripture. You get to go to your Route 66 party Friday night and you cannot wait!

Today, I will bring your little sisters and come eat lunch with you at school. I will bring you macaroni and cheese in a thermos and it will thrill you to no end. Your dance class and your softball team will sing happy birthday to you and you will feel like a rock star. Your daddy and I love you so much that there aren't even words to describe it.

Happy birthday, sweet girl. We are so proud to be your mommy and daddy.