as inspired by Serenity

Ok, this is my very inadequate attempt to keep up with Serenity. I feel compelled to write this post even though it is midnight and all of my children are sleeping and if I were a sane mother I would be joining them in their slumbering bliss.

I started blogging because I like to tell stories. I am an outgoing person and I like to know someone hears me. And gets me. I love looking back and remembering feelings and memories that I probably would have forgotten had I not commemorated those experiences through my blog. And I use to hate it when I would get around to scrapbooking a birthday party from two years ago and I would struggle to know what to write about it. That is why I started blogging. I have never thought that I was a writer or really had serious aspirations to be published or anything. This is like my family's journal to me.

My mom, on the other hand, is a writer. She has been published. I will make sure all of you get the chance to read her poem, "Love Poem to my Farmer" that was published in Woman's Day magazine. She has written creative stories and autobiographical stories and poems and research papers and speeches that she has delivered at graduation ceremonies before hundreds of people. She loves writing. And reading. I mean, you realize she is an English teacher, right?

She believes everyone would love to read if only they had the right book. She read the Little House on the Prarie series, in its entirety, to us on our porch swing every summer. And she took us to the library often. She is the reason I love to read. She made sure I had the right books.

She stayed home with my brother and sister and I until I was in junior high and then she went to college. Where she earned A after A after A after A. She graduated from college the same year I graduated from high school. She put her family first and then embarked on her career. I have always admired her for that. On our birthdays she made and decorated our cakes and prepared our favorite meals. She took us to the park. She rocked us when we were sick. She helped make our Valentine's Day boxes and our Halloween costumes and hid our Easter baskets. She took us to visit our grandparents. I can still picture her sitting in her car by the school, reading a book, waiting to pick us up from school or practice.

She can find good in any situation. And she can break into song in almost any situation. If a song will not do it, she always seems to know the right words to say to make someone feel better. She and my dad hold hands when they walk to the car from a ball game. She pays attention to her grandchildrens' interests and tries to encourage them to pursue those things. She knows how to be supportive and encouraging long after hanging up her pom poms. She consistently spends time with her dad. She knows how to bring out the best in those around her simply by being her best. I guess I am saying she is pretty impressive. And she is my mom. And now she has her own blog. I would like to invite you to visit Country Confessions. Check in often. I am sure she will have a lot to say. I had to get it from someone, right?

Our First Official Girls' Day

On Saturday Madison, Megan, and I had our first official girls' day. We left the boys at home and went shopping and did lunch. Megan was exactly one month old. I love the boys in my life, but as I realized the significance of this fabulous event I could not help but daydream about all of the fun things my girls and I can do over the coming years.

When I was a kid it was understood that 13 was the magic age to get our ears pierced. I remember being beyond excited when my mom surprised me by letting me go and get mine done for my 12th birthday. It was the best present ever. At least it seemed that way to a 12-year-old. Madison has been begging for earrings for awhile now and until now I have reminded her repeatedly that she is only 6 and I was 12 when I had it done. I have lectured her on the care and maintenance required and described the painful pinch involved with the actual piercing itself. She did not waver. I did.


I had a change of heart following Megan's arrival into our family. Madison has been such a super big sister. She loves our baby with all of her heart. The first thing she does when she gets off the bus after school is run to the bathroom to wash her hands so she can go find her baby sister. She gets her anything she might need. She is personally offended if I give Megan a bath when she is not here to supervise and assist. So Saturday I told her that because she is such a great big sister, we will go and get her ears pierced as a big sister present. She was such a big kid. While she did want me to hold her hand, she did not make a peep and did not shed a tear. She and I were both very proud of what a tough big kid she was. As we were strolling through Wal-Mart she said, "I am kind of like an adult now, Mom. You know, a lot of adults have their ears pierced and now I have my ears pierced." She could have pierced my own heart with that pink sparkly earring! Sometimes I look at her and feel like she has aged years instead of months but I have plans for her journey into adulthood taking several more years! I have many more childhood plans for girl fun. I plan to have girls' days when she is a grownup as well but I sure would appreciate a very lengthy transition into that next place in our lives!

Would a Megan by any other name be as sweet?

I have liked the name Megan for years. The name I had picked out for Jaron if he ended up being a girl was Megan Lynn. When I asked the kids what they wanted to name their baby sister, Madison opted for Valerina and Jaron said, “Let’s call her Pearl.” Megan means pearl. I feel like it was meant to be. Towards the end I started second guessing myself and I toyed with the idea of Morgan instead. I was trying to be more contemporary and was afraid Megan would be too old-fashioned. I finally decided to go with my gut and use the name I had chosen first. After seeing her in her perfect, tiny little form in the delivery room, Morgan just didn’t seem to fit in anywhere. Megan was the perfect, delicate name for my perfect, delicate baby. For her middle name I wanted her to have a namesake but was not convinced by any of the names I wanted to choose from. When I first combined my mom’s names, Judy Coleen, and came up with Joleen, I laughed about it and sang the Dolly Parton song in my head and wrote it off. The more I said it in my head, though, the more I liked it. It grew on me quickly and I decided it would grow on everyone else too. The fact that it represents the most important woman in my life…you know, the one who gave birth to me, made the decision irreversible. That is how we came to name our sweet baby girl Megan Joleen.

I went to my Tuesday appointment on March 3rd to have my ultrasound and non-stress test. Megan passed them both again so I was off to my doctor appointment with the reports. My blood pressure was high at the doctor’s office, and she sent me to Labor and Delivery and told me I would not go home until I delivered the baby. I wanted to have my baby on March 4th, as it was my Granny Bane’s birthday, but my doctor did not seem to think that was a good enough reason to deliver a baby 3 weeks early. She wanted to keep me in the hospital until March 11, 38 weeks gestation, on strict bed rest with bathroom privileges only. My blood pressure did come down after a few hours in bed so I prepared myself for the hurry up and wait game. The morning of Granny’s birthday I was having contractions every 5-7 minutes, and my water had broken overnight. Those were the reasons that led to two very special people sharing a birthday. Megan Joleen was born on March 4th at 2:10 pm. She weighed 6 pounds, 2 ounces, and was 19.5 inches long. She in no way looked big enough to be the cause of all the chaos in my body these past few months! I can never adequately describe the gratitude that I have in my heart for this tiny, healthy, beautiful baby girl that our family has been treasuring. Today is the day she was scheduled to be born. I should have known she would have her own plans. Kevin videoed the nurse taking Megan to the nursery and the kids looking at her for the first time. I absolutely love the video footage of moments I never could have seen otherwise. The first thing Madison said was, “I think I am starting to love her already.” Jaron said, “OK, which way is the ice cream?” Both of them love her above and beyond my expectations and have been fantastic as a big sister and a big brother. So here we go as a family of five. I will keep you posted on our new life as we are now officially outnumbered by our children!

Anxiety

I think I was like the majority of mothers-to-be when I first started wanting to have children. I thought about those soft baby cheeks on my shoulder and against my neck as I rocked the baby to sleep. I thought about the tiny fist holding on to my finger and that smell. The baby soap and baby lotion and Dreft detergent all blended together in one bundle of baby goodness. I thought about soft blankets and bumper pads and crib ruffles. I thought about endless hours with my glider and ottoman and sweet baby. That is what first-time mothers think about when they consider having children. It did not occur to me to think about the labor and delivery part of becoming a mother until close to the end of pregnancy. I did not ask myself what I was thinking marrying a man who is 6 feet and 4 inches tall, who was much larger than me at birth, until I was about 38 weeks along. The possibility of many treacherous hours of labor followed by an emergent c-section honestly did not occur to me as a possibility until it happened. Of course Madison was worth it! We both came through it fine which is all you can really ask for. And all those other plans I had about the rocking and the tiny fist and the baby goodness...they all happened too.

The second time I had many of the same warm and fuzzy feelings for my unborn baby as I did the first time. And I knew those smells and sweet moments would be a reality. Some of my anxiety at that time was centered around caring for a newborn and a barely 2-year-old. Was I a good enough mother to devote enough care, love, and attention to two small children? I did give more thought to the surgery process as well. As I transitioned through that last stretch (and stretch mark) of pregnancy, I started getting nervous about c-section #2. My first surgery was frightening in many ways for both Kevin and I, so I could not help but be weary of going back to the operating room. The planned c-section was so much more calm than the first one. There was a vast difference in the amount of pain involved. Kevin said to me right after Jaron was born, "If Madison had been like this, we could have 2 or 3 more!" I am not sure who is involved in this "we" he was referring to, but the experience was so much more positive that I was confident I would do it again.

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So here I am with only two weeks until I get to meet my sweet baby #3. It has been well over 4 and 6 years since I have been on an operating table. All this time I have been having those sweet daydreams. I have ruffled bedding. I have adorable pink things on hangers and in drawers. I have some of the softest and sweetest little blankets I have ever seen. I have my glider and ottoman in position and I have diapers that fit in the palm of my hand. The closer I get I can't help but think a little bit about the not so pleasant discomforts that come with breastfeeding and recovering from surgery. I think about it, but I am not worried about it. Knowing the things a third-time mom knows, I can honestly say that I have not been worried this time about the surgery. I know about the beauty of drug induced sleep that will get me through the first couple days. I know what to expect and feel ready. My anxiety this time is not about the physical side of having another baby. This time I keep thinking about my ability to be a good mom to three kids. It seems like I have been slowing down more every day and barely have the energy to keep up right now. Can I really devote all the attention a baby needs to this baby without neglecting the older two? Will I do a good enough job showing all of my children how much I love them and how important they are to me every day? And will my husband and I remember each other once we are outnumbered by our kids? These are the questions I ask myself as my last-minute anxieties start to creep up on me in my last weeks of pregnancy.

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Madison and Jaron are beyond excited right now. They tell me all about their plans to help me by bringing diapers and helping with bath time and they have learned what the buttons do on the bouncy seat and swing and they are ready to be amazing to their baby sister. I feel so blessed by the way they are already devoted to caring for and protecting her. I just pray that I will be successful in finding the right balance for my growing family. I think all of my kids are pretty special and I want to be the mom they need and deserve.

Speaking of artwork...

Speaking of artwork, here is the latest masterpiece that Madison has brought home from school. She likes to make treasures for her favorite people. This one is for her baby sister. She has insisted we keep it next to the bassinet until the baby gets here so we will not forget to show it to her. She said she will have to teach her all about trees and butterflies and flowers. The responsibilities of being the oldest child are pretty steep, I guess.

The artist

My sister is in the process of finishing up her degree right now. She plans to teach art. My sister is going to be an art teacher when my stick figure people that I draw are crooked. We have decided my artistic abilities are poured into my scrapbooks. I vow to devote another post to my love of scrapbooking at another time. Give me pictures and paper and I can make something. Paint and pencils and brushes? Not so much. The theme of a lot of her work is relative to "a vanishing rural America." She is in her last semester now and I wanted to show you some of the hard work the college girl has been putting in. She usually takes a picture of what she wants to paint and works from that. I wanted you to see some of my favorite things Vanita has created. I am trying to get ahold of a painting before she gets terribly famous and her paintings soar out of my price range!

This is my Granny and Grandad's engagement picture. She painted it for his 90th birthday. He cried. A lot of us did.This is an actual family quilt hanging on my mom's clothesline.Old Ben's Barn - He was my Harvey grandparents' neighborShe did this one of Grampy Blaise as a gift for his family.This one was for Madison's princess birthday. She still has it hanging on the wall in her bedroom.Vanita's tribute to Whitney Garnett.
This barn is north of West's winery outside of Macon.

Differences

From the very beginning there was something about this pregnancy that felt different to me. I listened to all of my wisest advisors and believed they were right on when they explained that every baby and pregnancy was different...and I am 5 years older this time.

The first difference is the fact that I knew I was pregnant almost immediately. June was the magic month in which we decided to see if baby #3 was meant to be. I have always wanted another baby, but I did not feel like I had to have another one or I would be incomplete or something. I just wanted a chance to try again and see if it was meant to be. Kevin was more along the line of "We have a healthy boy and a healthy girl, why not count our blessings and leave it there?" But the month before my 30th birthday I decided it was now or never so we broached the subject one last time. We decided...let's just try until Christmas and if it happens, yay! If it doesn't, that will be okay too. In July we took a family vacation to St. Louis. I had a birthday. I got carsick. And suspicious. I am pretty confident that she was meant to be all along.

I have never been burdened with a lot of morning sickness. But with Madison I was sick every day for 2 weeks, and with Jaron I was sick every day for 3 weeks. This time, after the carsick situation, I only got sick twice. Total.

I have gained about the same amount of weight this time but I am retaining so much fluid I look like I have had collagen injections covering every square inch of my body. I think it is the closest I will ever get to a Hollywood look. And trust me, the Angelina lips are not nearly as alluring when the rest of you is just as puffy! I do not recognize myself when I look in the mirror. Oh, and every symptom of pregnancy discussed in What to Expect When You're Expecting, I have it. The happy symptoms, the gross ones...I have them all. My motto this time is go big or go home. Many of these symptoms, which I will not describe in detail, I never had the joy of experiencing before. I know I would remember! Part of me could not help but wonder if God was trying to solidify my decision that this is the third and final little Peavler bundle of joy!

Because of these differences, I have had this nagging feeling that something was not quite right and have been so thankful every time I went to the doctor that all reports have come out within the right range. I finally got some results a couple weeks ago that I think explain the difference.

Gestational diabetes. This is a first time for that one too! While I was worried initially, for some reason I can't help but be a little bit relieved to know. I feel like it explains the change in this pregnancy and now that I know what is going on I can do what I need to be doing for treatment. What this means to me is going in every Tuesday for a BPP. This includes an ultrasound and a non-stress test. They are looking at the amount of amniotic fluid, her practice breathing movements, her activity level, her size(they said she is at 4 pounds), and her heart rate. As long as she passes these tests each week we will continue right on course to my scheduled c-section on March 16. We have had two of these visits so far. She tried to sleep through part of one of them, but after she was rudely awakened she jumped through all the hoops just like she was supposed to.

Everyone is optimistic that I can control my sugar levels with my diet and exercise. I met with the diabetes counselor last week and this week and reported all of my numbers. I am doing accuchecks four times daily and in my first week I did not have a single elevated reading. I have been following my low carb diet like a rock star and I expected them to tell me I can forget the finger sticks because I am a poster child and all the worry is over. Instead they told me it only gets harder to control the longer you go in the pregnancy so good job, happy accuchecking, and see you next week.

My doctor said the most common complication from this is a large birth weight for baby which causes many women to have to have c-sections who would not normally. I am not terrified of that because I will be having the c-section regardless. There is also a possibility that the baby's sugar will drop after she is born. She may need a little bit of help getting regulated at first but they say it should not take long. She has passed all of her prenatal tests with flying colors and I am very grateful that she seems to be so healthy. I am told at this point there is no reason to worry, just reason to monitor everything more closely. It is neat to get a peek at her on a weekly basis. She sure chews a lot on those hands and the ultrasound tech said, "Look at that hair!" I have some bows on standby.

I can't wait to meet my baby girl and see what other differences she will be bringing into our lives. I have been wondering if she will look like her brother or her sister and trying to picture her little features from those ultrasound shadows. If this pregnancy is any indication, I am confident she will look like her own little independent person. Different. Unique. Precious.