Weight Watching Again

I finally joined Weight Watchers online today after several attempts to go it alone. I'm one of those gals that just needs someone to hold me accountable, and now there is a whole cyber-world full of people to watch me succeed.

Food and I got along very well while I was pregnant; I gained only 8 pounds. I know that sounds a bit unhealthy for a woman growing a baby, but I wasn't trying to lose weight. In fact, the ONLY time I don't think, let alone obsess about food is during my pregnancies. I certainly wasn't "dieting." I just listened to my body; ate when I was hungry & stopped eating when I wasn't. For me, it proved to be a very healthy way to live. I left the hospital 15 pounds lighter than I was before my pregnancy and Addie was the healthiest of baby boys. A little disclaimer here; I don't recommend gaining only 8 pounds during a pregnancy, but I was overweight to begin with. I was also under the care of a doctor and had the best of prenatal care.

Anywho, my problem area has always been packing on the pounds while nursing. And I know what they say- "Nursing helps you lose weight," right? Well, clearly, I'm not your typical girl when it comes to the stinkin' scale! I felt my appetite increase the minute my milk came in, and no food was safe.

After 10 weeks of trying on my own and only losing control, I decided Weight Watchers was the only way to go. I had been successful with it after Coco was born, but I had never tried the online service. Attending meetings really made a difference for me. I only hope this works as well. So far, I really like what I've seen; the online tools are incredible. Today was my first day, and though I'm a little hungry, my hunger doesn't compare to the pride I have in taking the first step to living a healthier and skinnier life (preferrably on the beach comfortable and confident in a swimsuit). Only time will tell, but my determination is strong and hopefully my will power is, too.

Party of Five

Our Family is now a family of five! Woohoo! Addie made his grand entrance on Friday, January 15 at 9:44 in the morning. It was an interesting journey that ended (though it has really just begun) with all the excitement that you would expect from the birth of a baby boy... and then some!

When we went to the hospital early Friday morning, I was convinced that there was NO WAY they would send me home after having contractions that had begun the evening before and only intensified to an incredible pain just after midnight. Afterall, I had a c-section scheduled for the very reason that the doctors didn't want me laboring on my previously disected uterus. Of course, as soon as I was hooked up to the monitors, my contractions subsided; I only had two in the hour they had me strapped down. The midwife that was on call in triage told me it was a result of my body producing adrenaline and that it was quite common for contractions to stop after coming in. Nevertheless, she told me to get dressed- I was going home. "You'll likely labor for several days before it's time," she told me. I couldn't help but cry.

"But I'm a c-section," I protested as she left the room.

A few minutes later, I heard her talking to the on-call doctor just outside my door, following which she stuck her head in the room and said, "Get your gown back on. You're staying to have your baby!" Apparently, a shift change had occurred and the information that I was a repeat c-section had not been shared with the new shift. Needless to say, I was elated that I wasn't being sent packing!

It was only another hour before the were wheeling me into surgery. The real excitement was about to begin. I patiently awaited the sounds of my baby boy's cries with my husband at my side. I caught a glimpse of the surgery in the reflection of the lights and watched as Addie was delivered. To my delight, he was handed off to the pediatric resident, Dr. Kari, who happens to be a very good friend of mine. It was good to know someone WE knew so well was taking care of our baby.

They announced he was a healthy 7 lbs 8.5 oz and doing well, though he was having a bit of trouble breathing- a problem common with babies delivered via c-section. After an hour or so in the NICU on oxygen, he was doing great and on his way down to the Newborn Nursery.

Meanwhile, back down in recovery, CJ had just been brought in to where I was and Kari had come in to give us an update on Addie. Suddenly, CJ dropped to his knees and hit his head on my bed, splitting his forehead open. I didn't know it, but he had taken some cold medicine before we left home at 4:30 a.m. and had absolutely nothing to eat or drink since. (It was almost 11:30 a.m. by then.) Kari and the Recovery Room nurse took him down to the Emergency Room to have stitches. Luckily, Dermabond did the trick. After getting some food in his belly, he was better and back by my side in no time. When we made it up to my room, the news of CJ's fall had made it around the hospital, much to his dismay. Every nurse that came in was just as concerned for him as they were for me. It was really quite sweet, but I think HE found it to be a bit embarassing.

After a whirlwind of five days in the hospital, both Addie and I were on our way home. It's a good thing, too- I was ready to hang curtains and move the furniture around in my hospital room. I was truly climbing the walls, but I did my best to take advantage of the staff and their help.


It's been a little over a week since Addie arrived and we are quite the happy little family. I'm recovering well and Addie has made himself very comfortable amoungst the chaos of our household. Adjusting to three kiddos has been much easier on all of us, even Juju and Coco, than two ever was. Clearly, we've been busy or I would have posted this little announcement sooner, but thus goes the life of a family with a newborn, right?

The Waiting Game

CJ and I are expecting our 3rd son... well, really any day now. I am 37 weeks and 5 days pregnant (Of course I'm counting!) and my c-section has been scheduled for the 20th of January. If I make it until then, it will have been the longest pregnancy I've ever had. Ugh!

For a little over a week, I have been obsessing about how far away the 20th sounded and searching for ways I could possibly move things along (in the safest ways possible), but following an appointment this past Wednesday that showed no further progress and wallowing in the disappointment of not thinking we would meet our son anytime soon, I settled on acceptance. I spent that evening praying, not that God would move it along, but that I could accept that Baby Addie would come when he was darn good and ready. God is good, God is great, and He has granted me great relief in fulfilling my request. Lucky for me, the past two days have been much more relaxing. I've enjoyed cuddling with our older boys, one on each side of me in the recliner (What will I do with a 3rd?) and doing activities that, as restricted as I am now (and by "restricted" I mean "big"), will be impossible after surgery, like playing cars or legos with them on the floor. I've also taken great advantage (and this is a biggie) of the sweet slumber that will surely elude me with a newborn in the house. I also must remind myself that, as uncomfortable as pregnancy can be, not only has it been a healthy one, but it is also the last moments I will feel the miracle of a child growing inside of me. We have no plans of having anymore children, so though sometimes painful, I am enjoying the last little kicks and rolls that Baby Addie dishes out.

The point is, I see the glass half full now, and while we are still anxious to meet our newest baby boy, we know how quickly time truly flies and he will be here before we know it. I know we'll even look back in a year or two and wonder when all of our babies became big boys. Then, I'll be blogging about how I wish the time would slow down!

And so, I leave you now with this question to ponder. Why do we always think we know what is best for us and fight so hard to steer God's plans for us even when we truly think we believe we are in His wonderful hands? Perhaps I will "go there" in my next blog, but this question surely deserves some thought.

Little Noah Biorkman

I received a message on Facebook last week via "Status Update" about a little boy named Noah Biorkman. This one little blurb has been on my mind since, and then today I came across a Facebook Event Invitation from another Facebook friend sharing further details of his story. http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/event.php?eid=177509260842&ref=mf

Little Noah is a 5 year old from South Lyon, MI who has been fighting Neuroblastoma, the most common cancer in childhood and infancy [according to Wikipedia], since he was diagnosed in February of 2007. A long fight for a child so young! He was declared to be in remission in August 2007. Unfortunately, his family was recently told, following a relapse in September 2008 and six different trials to prevent the cancer from spreading to no avail, that Noah's battle will soon be coming to an end. Despite this unimaginable and devastating news, the family has chosen to spend their final days with Noah celebrating the birth of Our Savior a little early. the family's celebration begins next week, as we prepare for our Thanksgiving. Noah has expressed a desire for one simple gift... Christmas cards sent to him from around the world.

My family sent a card to Noah Biorkman a few days ago, and I'm asking you to do the same, to remind this family that the prayers for their son are many. Please, take a moment and send one. It is a small and inexpensive gift that would mean the world to one small child.

Noah Biorkman

1141 Fountain View Circle

South Lyon, MI 48178 USA

I, like so many, am in awe and inspired by the Biorkman family. Though I see little to celebrate, their courage and strength in facing a disease as terrible as Cancer is great, even when it is a losing battle. When I see the picture posted of Noah, I see my boys, just your average kids with all the world to live for, and I am reminded of how precious it all is. It could just as easily be someone posting messages about my family asking them to help us celebrate our last Christmas together. Noah's family is not alone; you need only take a look at the St. Jude Children's Research Hospital or the Make-A-Wish Foundation's websites to see just how many families are struggling to battle these childhood illnesses.

It just doesn't seem fair! Strike that... it isn't fair! Not that anyone deserves to battle through any disease, but it is absolutely heart wrenching to hear of children that must muster the strength to live with the daily pain that often comes with an chronic illness of this magnitude. Afterall, what can you say about the diseases we call Cancer? The truth is there is nothing to say that hasn't already been said a thousand times. There are 650 new cases reportedly annually in the U.S. of Neuroblastoma alone, 50 percent of which occur in children under the age of two. While some types of this and other Cancers are curable, a child diagnosed with it is still in for the fight of their lives, many times for their lives.

Noah's story reminds me of a little girl named Christina, whose story I heard years ago as a child. It was just before Christmas. I couldn't have been more than 8, and I was having trouble sleeping one night. I woke my brother (for the company) and we sat under our Christmas tree to watch TV. My brother, who was just a year younger than me, fell fast asleep, but I kept searching the channels for something, anything interesting to watch. I remember catching the middle of a program similar to Dateline about children fighting Cancer. They were following several children's story, but one in particular stuck with me. It was a little girl about my age named Christina. The details are a bit hazy, but her face remains plastered in my mind with the biggest smile you've ever seen on her face. Throughout the program, they shared how she loved to smile and make others smile, even on her sickest, weakest days. She battled her disease, of which type now escapes me, for years, all the while bringing laughter to the hospital in which she lived. She told jokes, drew colorful pictures, and brightened the days of the other children, as well as the docotrs and nurses. One day, she and the other children were on their way back home [to the hospital] from a party, and exhausted little Christina lay down to take a short nap in the back of the van. Christina never woke up. Tears rolled down my eight year old little cheeks and I couldn't stop sobbing. The world had suffered a great loss. I don't know that I fully understood her story at the time, but something touched me that night. I still think of Christina every Christmas, and I'm reminded to pray for the families of the children whose great smiles and love touch the lives of people even though their lives are short.

Noah is that kind of child, and I know that as young as he is, he has touched many people with his little life. My hope is that his parents carry that with them for the rest of theirs.

66 Degrees at 2 in the Afternoon...

Fall has [finally] come to Mobile. My doors and windows are open. One son is napping and one son is at school. There is a rustle in the trees from the elusive cool breeze, and just like that, my spirits are lifted from their damp and hot South Alabama funk.

I wasn't sure how much more I could take. The ground was saturated and though the temperature was only in the upper 80's, you couldn't open your door without sweating, much less take a step outside. The humidity was 98%; I ask you, can you get anymore humid without actually being submerged in water? Trees were beginning to rot from the inside out and mold still covers everything left outdoors. My children haven't played outside all summer [which starts in February along the Gulf Coast and clearly continues through mid October] because of swarming mosquitos and the backyard muck.

You may ask yourself, "What the heck is a gal from Southeast Texas complaining about? Isn't she used to hot and humid?" Well, I am, but that doesn't mean I have to like it OR that I can't look forward to another [any other] season.

Fall is my favorite! I love the colors of autumn, however cliche that may be. The reds, oranges, yellows, against a clear blue sky. I love the smell of real wood fireplaces cranking up and doing there thing. Pictures in the pumpkin patches. Fall Festivals. Evenings on the porch swing. Pecan pies. I even occasionally break for the yummy and ridiculously over priced, limited-time-only Starbuck's Pumpkin Spice Latte. *[singing to myself] These are a few of my favorite things! *

Ahhh, fall! It's like falling in love all over again! [It was November when CJ and I had our first date twelve years ago.]

In fact, what am I still doing on the computer? I've got to get out and enjoy this weather; unfortunately, I know its days are numbered!