Three Babies

I love that each of my kids was born in a different place--Zara in Seoul, Korea, Adelaide in Provo, Utah (sorry, Adelaide), and Benjamin in Atlanta, Georgia. Aside from the fact that it shows how frequently we move, it's also another reminder of their differences and unique personalities.

I also find it interesting how I've come to know my children. With Zara, I had very distinct impressions of who she was before she was even born. I knew she would be stubborn. I knew she would be very active. (She canNOT sit still. And she's such a little dancer.) And I also knew that she would bring a lot of joy to the world. She has such a kind heart and a lot of empathy. She seems to be intuitively attuned to the feelings and moods of others.

I knew absolutely nothing about Adelaide before she born, not even her name. (With both Zara and Benjamin, I was 99% sure of their names in the week before their birth.) She was a complete mystery to me but within two or three days of her birth, I was struck with the sudden and inexplicable knowledge that Adelaide and I would have a very close bond. Adelaide is my little mini-me in looks and temperament and despite her attitude (which she got from me) I find that she rarely pushes my buttons the way Zara does.

Like Adelaide, Benjamin was a largely unknown entity to me. I had the impression before his birth that he was scared to be born and that's why he delayed his arrival. (And yes, he was only 4 days late but those 4 days felt like an eternity.) And yet, three weeks since his birth, Benjamin is still something of an unknown entity to me still but I fall in love with him a little bit more everyday. And as I get to spend more time with him, hopefully I'll come to know him better. I think he may surprise me.

Introducing Benjamin Rhys Malone

Benjamin Rhys Malone

Born: Sunday, July 26, 2015

Time: 9:39 AM

Weight: 8 pounds 12 ounces

Length: 19.5 inches

I see so many similarities and differences in the labors and deliveries of my three children. Benjamin’s was my quickest and perhaps easiest labor, but if I had to rank them, I’d still say Adelaide’s was my favorite (if you can have a favorite tale of pain and baby birthing). But since I love birth stories, here’s Benjamin’s story.

I’d been having contractions on and off for nearly two weeks (sometimes with more intensity and frequency than other times) and I waited expectantly for true labor to begin at any moment. For nearly a week, I thought every day was going to be THE day. With each passing day of continued pregnancy, my optimism faded. I had myself absolutely convinced he would arrive on Friday, July 24^th, but after a day of nearly constant but intermittent contractions, I still found myself pregnant by day’s end. On Saturday, my contractions stopped. My sister predicted the baby would come Sunday since she had a very similar labor with her third child. Near constant contractions, 24 hours of nothing, and then boom. Baby.  I hoped she was right but didn’t want to get my hopes up again.

We spent our Saturday together as a family. We walked to Zara’s school and played at their playground and then came home to eat popsicles and lunch. We decided to introduce the girls to Star Wars and so settled in with some popcorn and Episode IV, which the girls seemed to like. (Adelaide especially liked Chewbacca, who she kept calling a bear.) Not being much in the mood to cook, we went to Panda Express for dinner. My fortune, fittingly enough, said “Remember yesterday, live for today, and plan for tomorrow.” After putting the girls to bed, I watched some TV, took a shower, and fell into a fitful sleep.

Around 3 AM, I woke up to use the bathroom but found I was too restless to fall back asleep. I had a contraction and finding it slightly more intense than usual, I decided to start tracking them. I laid in bed for about half an hour and then moved into the living room to use my exercise ball. The contractions were definitely harder but still only 5-7 minutes apart. By 4 o’clock, I thought it was time to wake up David. I didn’t want to delay going to the hospital since I knew it would take us a long time to get the girls situated and drive to the hospital which is 30 minutes away if there’s no traffic.

David was very disoriented since he had stayed up way too late watching a movie and hadn’t been asleep long. He hopped in the shower while I went to call the on-call midwife and his sister, Fiona, about watching the girls. By 5 AM, my contractions were now 3-5 minutes apart and growing more intense but still manageable. We packed up the car and woke up the girls to drive them to Fiona’s house about 15 minutes away. The girls were excited about the baby’s arrival and Zara excitedly kept talking about her baby brother. Adelaide seemed rather distraught when we dropped her off at Fiona’s house but Fiona assured me she didn’t cry for very long.

Back in the car, we made our way to the hospital, still another 30 minutes away. My contractions had now slowed down again, which worried me since I didn’t want to arrive at the hospital only to be told I was having false labor. The contractions were more painful, but back to 7-10 minutes apart. I thought part of the problem was the fact that I was sitting down. I just needed to get up again and move around to keep my labor going.

We pulled into the hospital parking garage around 6 AM and made our way to the Labor and Delivery unit on the 7^th floor. I’d never actually been inside the hospital so I had no idea what to expect. All I knew is that this hospital (in downtown Atlanta) is one of only two hospitals in the metro Atlanta area that specialize in natural childbirths and allow waterbirths at their facilities. My midwives only deliver at this hospital and have a strong partnership with them, which is why I had chosen to work with my midwife group and deliver at Atlanta Medical Center (AMC) in the first place.

Georgia unfortunately doesn’t have any birth centers and homebirths reside in a somewhat legal gray area which is why I ultimately opted to have a hospital delivery. I’d asked them many questions about what to expect at AMC and I had thought it would be more like my birth center experience but I was quickly to discover that they would operate like most other hospitals when it came to labor and delivery—lots of “standard measures of care” and little choice.

As soon as we checked in, I was taken to a triage room where I was required to put on one of those delightful hospital gowns that don’t close in the back even though I had specifically requested in my birth plan that I wanted to labor in my own clothes. I also had to have 20 minutes of constant fetal monitoring before they’d let me go into a labor and delivery room. This was also something I didn’t want because I knew having to lay in bed for 20 minutes would slow my labor once again.

The baby’s heartbeat was strong, but the nurses were concerned that my contractions were still so far apart. But when they checked me, I was already dilated to a 7, maybe an 8 and so they finally believed me when I said I just needed to get up and move around. It had been well over 30 minutes by this point and I was anxious to get into the labor and delivery room and into the promised birth tub to continue my labor since my contractions were slowly but surely growing more painful.

The on-call midwife, Gloria, finally arrived to deliver some bad news. Even though I had been told that my Group B strep results had come back negative from the lab, it looked like the results had been input incorrectly and my labs actually showed that I was positive for Group B strep and would need antibiotics. I had strenuously hoped to avoid this outcome since I hate getting IVs with a passion. I was positive with Zara and I found the IV to be the most painful and annoying aspect of the delivery. I was negative with Adelaide and really loved having the freedom of movement.

I also knew that getting an IV line with the antibiotics also had the potential to slow down my labor as well. They also need to deliver the antibiotics in two doses over 4 hours and I knew we didn’t have time for that. It was creeping closer to 7 AM by this point and for some reason, I was confident that this baby would come around 9 o’clock. After a lot of back and forth, Gloria finally agreed that we could decline the antibiotics (even though it wasn’t the “standard of care”) and that we would have to monitor the baby closely after birth for any signs of infection.

Finally they said we could move into a labor and delivery room and that they’d get a tech to start setting up the birth tub for me. But as with most things in hospitals, it seemed to take forever for anything to happen. Our 20 minutes of fetal monitoring had stretched to nearly an hour. The tub was inflated and brought into our room, but they wouldn’t start filling it up until the baby’s heartbeat showed enough “variability.” That took another 10 minutes of constant fetal monitoring (which they begrudgingly let me do standing up) while I powered through a few stronger and more intense contractions.

They started to fill up the tub but the water was barely even lukewarm. We cranked it up as high as it would go, but it never got very hot. They suggested moving to another room but I knew we didn’t have time for that. I just wanted to get into the tub for the last part of transition since I was already starting to feel small urges to push and my contractions were getting much more painful. Once the tub was finally filled, I climbed in and it provided some instant relief to my labor pains.

By now another midwife, Anna, had joined us. I’d only met with Anna once before (she’s one of the back-up midwives and not one of the regular members of the group) but I had really clicked with her at our one and only office visit and I was glad that she was there to help with the birth. Gloria popped in and out, but it was Anna who sat with us through the rest of the labor and who ultimately delivered Benjamin. 

We sat and chatted as my contractions came and went. My water hadn’t broken yet and my contractions, while definitely feeling more painful and intense, were still quite spaced apart. I was able to relax quite a bit between each one and as we neared 9 AM, a slight but not insistent urge to push started to accompany my contractions. The water was quickly cooling down. I knew I didn’t want to deliver in the tub, and I was just about to get out when a phlebotomist came into the room to draw some blood. (Why, I have no idea but it’s good she was so fast at her job.)

After she left with her vials of blood, I asked for help getting out of the tub so that they could check my cervix once more and possibly break my water and start pushing if the baby was in position. Anna checked me and was surprised to discover that the baby’s head was sitting low and that I was fully dilated. On the next contraction, she broke my water.

With both Zara and Adelaide, I felt an intense and sudden urge to push. With Benjamin, I just felt “pushy,” like I wanted to push but I could hold off if I wasn’t ready. I didn’t have this huge urge to push so it came as a surprise to both Anna and myself that on my next contraction, I started pushing and Benjamin just came flying out. With both Zara and Adelaide, I would push for a minute or two, rest for a few minutes and then push more. With Benjamin, it was five minutes of continuous pushing and then he emerged.

Since Anna had just broken my water, I was lying on my back when the pushing started, which was not the position I wanted to deliver in. I tried to turn around on the bed to get into a squatting position or on my knees but Benjamin was coming out too fast and I couldn’t maneuver differently. I just had to keep pushing in the most awkward position ever and suddenly, I had a baby. I couldn’t believe how quickly he arrived. He was born at 9:39 AM, so my prediction that he’d be born during the 9 o’clock hour came true.

I had a first degree tear which required a few stitches (ugh) and I held Benjamin and tried to nurse as they delivered the placenta and stitched me up. It wasn’t until then that we learned that because I’d declined the antibiotics, we might have to stay at the hospital for 48 hours in order to monitor Benjamin and make sure he didn’t have an infection. We finally got the pediatrician to agree that if his 24 hour cultures came back clear, we could leave after a day. There was no way I was going to stay in the hospital for 2 days. I went home 4 hours after giving birth to Adelaide so the thought of staying even for 24 hours was torture.

We were taken down to our new room in the mother’s wing and I passed an especially boring 24 hours. I know some women seem to enjoy their hospital stay because they can lay in bed and just focus on the new baby, but I was itching to get home. The hospital bed was uncomfortable, the food was terrible, and I hated being constantly poked and prodded every hour or two. Why does my blood pressure and temperature need to be taken so frequently, especially in the middle of the night? The only bright spot was that my room had an amazing view of downtown Atlanta.

In any case, we finally got the go ahead to leave the hospital around 4 o’clock on Monday afternoon. I am incredibly thankful that Benjamin’s birth—despite some of the set-backs and inconveniences—went so smoothly and that he came so quickly once true labor got started. Overall, it wasn’t a bad experience but if I ever get pregnant again (which I don’t intend to) I think I’m ready to do a homebirth. No more hospitals for me. But at least I got to come home with one cute little boy.

Edited to Add: I realize this post may come off as whiney especially since my complaints are so minor in the grand scheme of things that could have gone wrong. I recognize my extreme privilege in having such easy and uncomplicated deliveries when so many other women have much different experiences. But I did want to document all the events of Benjamin's birth and my feelings surrounding it which includes a fair bit of whining.

A Comparison of Daughters

When Adelaide was born, David and I marveled at how similar she looked to Zara. We'd compare pictures of them as newborns and could barely tell the difference. Both had full heads of dark hair, blue eyes, and chubby cheeks slightly indented by the promise of dimples. David called them our clone babies. 

But miss Adelaide has definitely grown out of her Zara phase and is becoming her own little person. A very cute person, I might add. Unlike Zara--who's hair never fell out and just continued to grow long and dark and luxurious--Adelaide's brown locks have slowly fallen out and in bits and pieces, and is being replaced by blonde baby peach fuzz. I think her eyes are just a bit bluer and her dimples much deeper. She's remained a large baby for her age and her thighs are simply the most delicious things I've ever seen. 

At five months, Adelaide is adept at rolling over and has even started to army crawl, just this week. She loves to smile, but doesn't giggle very easily (much to David's dismay). She seems interested in food but makes the most hilarious faces of disgust when we try to feed her solid food. (So far, just a little bit of rice cereal and applesauce. We're not pushing it too much. I think I started Zara way too early and have wanted to wait until Adelaide really wants to eat it.) She thinks electronic devices and kitties are delightful and is trying to bang on my laptop as I type this. 

But the very best, most wonderful thing about Adelaide (in direct opposition to her older sister) is that she a wonderful, fabulous, super easy-to-put-to-bed sleeper. I cannot express my deep and abiding love for this child for this one thing. She takes at least two naps a day (and her afternoon nap is often 2-3 hours long) and all I have to do is feed her some milk, make sure her diaper is clean and put her in her bed and then I CAN WALK AWAY. She just sticks her thumb in her mouth and puts herself to sleep. It's the most wonderful thing in the world. If all my babies were this easier, I'd have a lot more. And by more, I mean one more. Because that's all I want. Okay, maybe two. But I'm only saying that for David's benefit. 

We love our Miss Adelaide. (And Miss Zara, of course, but she's already gotten a lot of love on this blog.) 

To compare our little girls, I pulled out some old photos of Zara to compare with some new ones I just took of Adelaide, wearing the same dress. In these photos, Zara is only 3 months old, and Adelaide is 5 months, but you can see a lot of the similarities and the differences.

Miss Adelaide at 3ish Months

Let's be honest....Adelaide is going to get the shaft when it comes to monthly blog posts about her growth, she's not going to have photographs of every day of her life (at least for the first year) like Zara, and she's certainly not going to get lots of brand news clothes when her sister's hand-me-downs will serve her just fine. Life is tough for child #2.

That does not mean, however, that Adelaide is any less adored by all of us. She is a ray of sunshine in an otherwise difficult time in our lives. I want to jot down just a few things about her at 3.5 months so I don't forget.

Nicknames

Adelaide is quite a mouthful and we often get asked if we use a nickname for her. The short answer is no. The long answer is yes, but it varies.

David feels strongly that if Adelaide wants to shorten her name to any one of the many options available to her, that is her choice but we will not chose it for her. David absolutely detests the fact that even though his name is David and he always introduces himself as such, the majority of people who meet him automatically shorten it to Dave. (I did too when we first met.) He really wants to avoid that for our children. Adelaide is her name and Adelaide is what she shall be called until she informs us otherwise.

Personally, I call her lots of things. All parents have nicknames for their children...it's just the natural order of things. Some of them play off her name and some of them have absolutely no relation to her given name at all. The two most common names I call her are Lady Adelaide of the Cheeks and Smiles. The first because she has the most awesome cheeks in the world and the second because she loves to smile and show off her dimples.

I love the name Adelaide but I also love that it has such a large number of possible nicknames available to chose from including: Addie, Ada, Adele, Della, and Laidy. My favorite of the bunch is Laidy and I secretly sometimes call her that (when no one else is around). Laidy Malone sounds very regal. (Adelaide does mean noble after all.) My least favorite is Addie and I would just a tad disappointed if that was her preferred name. But I do believe it's her choice to decide what she prefers. I did the same, when I changed my name from Amanda to Lizzie in 4th grade and again when I shortened Lizzie to Liz in 9th grade. And for the record, I have never been called Elizabeth.

Stats
Adelaide was an above-average baby at birth (in terms of weight and length) and she has continued to top the charts as she has aged. The last few times I have weighed her, she has measured between 16 and 17 pounds and about 25-26ish inches.

Disposition 
I find Adelaide to be a relatively happy and easy going baby as long as she is properly feed, diapered and burped. She smiles all the time now and we've even managed to elicit a few adorable giggles out of her. (Zara is often the most effective at making her laugh.) She is also surprisingly tolerant of her big sister and cousins' almost incessant need to touch her, poke her, or pinch her cheeks. She rarely cries without reason and often calms down quickly if soothed.

She started to spit up a lot (both in frequency and volume) around week 4-5 and all attempts to discover the root of the troubles were in vain, including my pathetic attempt to eschew dairy. I was beside myself with concern over her constant reflux and it magically seemed to resolve itself during our 4 day cross country drive from Utah to Virginia. I don't know if she really was allergic to Utah or sitting more upright in her carseat for so long helped alleviate her problems but since moving to Virginia 5 weeks ago, she has only had 2 larger-than-average spit ups. It helps to burp her and keep her upright for a little bit after feeding.

Sleep
Sleep issues are the bane of my parenting existence. Zara was the model sleeper until everything went to hell at 4 months and I live in constant terror that Adelaide will wake up one day and decide that sleeping with any sort of regularity is for sissies and putting her down to sleep will not be tolerated. So far, she's a decent sleeper. She cat naps a lot during the day and often falls asleep while nursing and will stay asleep if held. Despite my love of cuddling sleeping babies (seriously, I think the key to world peace has something to do with snuggling sleeping babies), I often have to put her down to attend to her sister or take care of other things around the house. She will occasionally stay asleep, but more often than not, she'll wake up within 15-30 minutes. Depending on what I'm doing, I will wear her in the baby carrier and she will always conk out and sleep in that as long as I keep wearing it.

I do love wearing her and letting her sleep on me, but I also fear having her develop such a need to be held that she won't sleep on her own. By 4 months, Zara would not sleep anywhere but on me for any nap and refused to sleep in a crib so we co-slept for about a year. I don't mind co-sleeping at night, but having to wear and/or hold Zara for all her naps was very hard on me after a few months. I feel a bit selfish saying it, but I force myself to put Adelaide down so that she will eventually learn how to continue to sleep on her own.

She is, however, an excellent nighttime sleeper (knock on wood) and will often fall asleep all on her own. (A skill Zara never developed until much, much later.) I'll often nurse her around 9-9:30pm, wrap her up like a little baby burrito and put her down in her pack n' play still awake. She'll inevitably wrest her arms free after a few minutes of struggling and will munch on her fingers and occasionally whimper just a little bit until she falls asleep, often within 15-20 minutes, and will stay asleep for several hours. Since Zara never did this, I find this behavior in Adelaide to be the mark of angels and worthy of endless praise and adulation. I don't care that other babies have been doing this for centuries....mine is a blessed baby. I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that month 4 doesn't unleash the furies of hell like it did with Zara.

Other Observances
Adelaide hates tummy time, but has excellent head control and strong legs. She's great at standing on her own with very little support and assistance.She will often roll from her back to one side or the other. She hasn't attempted to roll from her back to her belly or vice versa. [Update: As of 9/12, Adelaide can roll from her tummy to her back.]

She has entered the oral fixation stage of life and loves to put her fingers or her blanket in her mouth. She has started to drool more (as a result of munching on more) and sometimes acts irritable like she might be teething, but I think she's still got a ways to go until then. She is also quite taken with sucking her thumb, which I have many mixed emotions about.

When she gets excited, she'll start pumping her legs and flapping her arms with a huge grin on her face.

Unless pinned down, she will not allow any blanket to continue covering her for any amount of time.

She also moves around a bunch. She is never exactly where I left her.

She's almost outgrown her 3-6 months clothes, which she has been wearing since she was 6 weeks old.

By this age, it was apparent that Zara's hair had a bit of a curl to it. Adelaide's foretells no such future and is lighter than Zara's was. I think Adelaide's might continue to lighten, so that it's a nice honey blonde or even strawberry blonde.

All in all, we love our Adelaide and couldn't imagine these last 3 months without her. Here's hoping I'll update again before another 3 months have passed. Of course, we need some obligatory pictures:

Newborn Love

Whenever I imagined my future life with kids, I always pictured them as older children. I had never spent much time around young, young children and even though Zara is almost 3 years old, I still [mostly] have no idea what to do with her. But I do look forward to having older children, who can talk and read and reason and to teaching them from my vast amounts of wisdom and knowledge. (Ha!) I think that time comes around the age of 8, so in the meantime, I'm just trying to survive the early years.

I do, however, LOVE the newborn stage. Love it. Having sweet Adelaide around makes it even more difficult to practice patience with Zara's more colorful antics (especially her current insistence that she do everything herself...even when she realistically can't). And best of all, Adelaide never talks back and never throws tantrums....and if she does, it's generally solved by offering her more milk. Zara is not so easy to appease these days.

I love newborn cuddles and snuggles. I love the way Adelaide burrows her head into the crook of my neck and how I could sit and hold her for hours and be perfectly content. I love the little grunts and groans and snorts she makes when sleeping and I even mostly love her cries for milk or a diaper change. I love watching the various expressions that flit across her face as she sleeps and dreams, from pouty faces to angelic smiles (which show off her little dimples). I love the way she stretches and how she gets milk all over her face when she eats.

It's just too bad that newborns have to grow up. Mostly, that's a good thing. Newborns are a lot of work, but while it lasts, I really enjoy it. My friend, a photographer, needed a newborn model for her etsy shop (where she sells photography props) and I was more than happy to volunteer Adelaide. These are a few of the photos she took of Adelaide last week. I'm still waiting for her to send me the proofs (without her tag) but I just couldn't resist sharing the adorableness that is Adelaide.

Adelaide Gets a Name

I both love and hate naming my children. I find it a huge responsibility to pick the name that will represent a person for their whole life, and to do it when they are just a tiny little soul, brand new to the world and their personality is still almost completely unknown to you. David and I have really struggled to name both Zara and Adelaide (though we've had no problem picking boy names....if we ever have a boy) and neither of them had a decided name before they were born. Zara was my top choice before she was born, but we didn't settle on anything until after she was born. With Adelaide, I had a list of names, but no clear favorites. I did, however, already know that her middle name would be Grace, which is a virtue I love and thought would be a nice complement to Zara's middle name of Hope.

I believe everyone should be given a name that has significance, whether for the meaning of the name itself or because it is a family name or the name of another important figure. Since we didn't have any family names we wanted to use, I had mostly chosen names based on their meanings. My top choices were Sophie (wisdom), Charlotte (strong woman), and Naomi (beautiful/delightful), but I was hesitant to use them since they've become very popular lately and I wanted to avoid an excessively popular name. (Sophia was the #1 girl name in 2012.) David's top choice was Orla (Gaelic for golden queen) and while it is certainly not breaking the top 100 list of names, it felt a little too unusual and not quite right.

During my last trimester, I kept a list of all our potential names and their meanings written on a white index card. It wasn't a long list because there weren't many names that David and/or I both liked. After Adelaide was born,  and we were all resting on the birth center's large bed together, David pulled out the index card and started looking over the names. I glanced at the list and immediately felt drawn to the name Adelaide but pushed aside the thought since I never thought David would go for that name. It's one that I threw on there because I've always liked old-fashioned names and I liked its meaning: noble. I had also been contemplating the name Ada (which also means noble) after the 19th century mathematician (and Lord Bryon's daughter) Ada Lovelace, who is often credited as the being the first computer programmer.I liked the idea of naming my daughter after such an intelligent and pioneering woman.

It came as some surprise when David then said that he was leaning toward Adelaide. Just like me, when he looked at the list, the name Adelaide jumped out at him. He even insists that its written in darker ink than the other names, even though I wrote most of the names with the same pen.

Adelaide is of German origin (and David has a lot of German heritage) and according to a baby name website, "This name was imported to England by Adelaide of Saxe-Meiningen, the wife of William IV of Great Britain. She gave her name to the South Australian city of Adelaide. In contemporary literature of the time, Adelaide was frequently used as a name for upper-class, elegant women. St Adelaide of Italy lived in the tenth century. She was heir to the throne of Italy and married Otto the Great, Holy Roman Emperor. She was made a saint on account of her good deeds towards the poor. Adelaide of Aquitaine was the wife of French king Hugh Capet, the founder of the Capetian dynasty."

But of course, when I think of the name Adelaide, I immediately think of this song from the musical Guys and Dolls: 

We had really hoped that we'd be inspired after the baby's birth to know what to name her and we were. In some ways, I can't believe we decided on her name so quickly or both came to the same conclusion so easily. It still took a day or two for it to feel right....and it still feels a little awkward to say her name, but I remember I felt that way about Zara's name as well. I think Adelaide Grace is a beautiful name and fits her well.

Bad Mom

Now, I know I've only been doing this for six months so far, but I like to think that I'm a pretty good mom.

But Sunday I felt, for the first time, that I was a horrible, very bad, no good mother.

I was in a hurry Sunday morning, trying to get ready for church. Church has recently moved to an earlier time which means I'm generally running late and David was already at work, so it was entirely up to me to make sure that both Zara and I looked presentable and still made it out the door on time.

Zara was on our bed, playing with her animal book as I was hopping back and forth from the bathroom to the vanity area (where I could keep an eye on Zara). I was fiddling with something when I heard the most horrific sound in the world. The sound of something hitting the hard wood floor and the wail of a baby in distress.

Yup. I'm the horrible mother who wasn't paying attention when her baby rolled right off the bed. (And, as is always the case, the night before David and I been discussing how we probably shouldn't put her on any elevated surfaces since she had started rolling so much.)

Fortunately, Zara was fine. She cried for about five minutes and then calmed down. She has a small bruise on her forehead, but other than that, she had no other external injury. After the accident, I checked the dilation of her pupils, felt for any contusions and bumps and watched for any signs of brain injury. She was acting normal, which according to the books I consulted, meant there was probably nothing to worry about but to watch her carefully for the next six hours. (All good there.)

I would have just skipped church, but I was teaching the lesson in Relief Society so after cuddling Zara for a little bit, I finished getting myself and her ready. Needless to say, we were late to church.

Thankfully, the results of my awful parenting did not lead to serious injury and I will try to be more careful in the future. But I know that despite all my best efforts, accidents will happen. My baby will get hurt. Sometimes it'll be her own fault, and sometimes, I'll probably share some of the blame. I know I can't beat myself up about it, or even shelter my baby from everything--and anyone--that could potentially harm her. As she grows, she'll learn from her mistakes and I have to be willing to allow her to make them. But how, my mother friends, do you deal with the days when you feel like a no good, very bad, awful mother?

Pregnancy Ups and Downs

Since I'm STILL pregnant, I thought I'd take a moment to write down the things I've both liked and disliked about pregnancy. When most people talk about the horrors of being pregnant, they're mostly talking about the last month or two. Of course, that's what you remember most about being pregnant since it was at the end of the pregnancy and the most uncomfortable part of it. For the first seven months of my pregnancy, I just couldn't understand why so many people seemed to think pregnancy sucked. I get it now (and I know I've had a relatively easy pregnancy) but I still think people tend to blow it way out of porportion. Still, my experiences are not other people's experiences but I do have a newfound respect for any woman who willingly chooses to have more than one child. :-)

What I Have Enjoyed

1.) I've loved feeling my baby move and squirm and hiccup inside of me. Sure, it can sometimes be rather uncomfortable, especially when Baby puts some force behind it, but it's also pretty incredible to watch your belly move or to see the barest outline of a foot press against your skin.

2.) Of all the images we've been given after an ultrasound, there's nothing I like to look at better than the picture of my baby's open hand, with its five perfectly formed fingers. To think that those perfect hands and feet are growing inside of me is simply astounding. And slightly creepy.

3.) Climbing the Great Wall of China six months pregnant. It makes for a great story and reminds me that there used to be a time when standing upright for more than 10 minutes wasn't one of life's great challenges.

4.) It may sound cliche and uber-cheesey, but there really is this indescribable feeling of awe and wonderment that comes from creating life. Not only do I feel an unbreakable bond forming between me and my child, but I have also felt a greater connection to all the women throughout history who have experienced pregnancy and birth.

5.) I'm extremely grateful that I avoided some of the common complications of pregnancy (though certainly not all). I had no morning sickness (just slight nausea) and have not thrown up once my entire pregnancy. My ankles, hands, and face have not swollen or become unrecognizable. (My wedding ring still falls off my finger from time to time.) I've had no heartburn or found foods that I could not eat. I didn't gain 50 pounds. (Though I think this has more to do with the fact that I live in Korea and couldn't eat In & Out or Chipotle twice a day like I wished I could. I think if I had been pregnant in the States, I would have been able to indulge my cravings far more often and would definitely have gained a LOT more weight.)

6.) Sometimes, when I'm driving around or cleaning the house or just watching TV, Baby would kick me as if to let me know that I wasn't alone. I've carried on many one-sided conversations with the baby, telling it about my day, or how I'm feeling, or confessing just how truly scared I am about bringing them into the world and about being a good mother. And sometimes, just sometimes, the baby will move in just such a way that I know that they understand. And think I'll do just fine.

What I Have Not Liked

1.) The waiting. I am severely lacking in patience and nine months of gestation just seems like cruel and unusual punishment. At least I can be grateful that I'm not an elephant, who can have gestation periods of up to 22 months.

2.) The unknown. There's always that little voice in the back of my mind that whispers that something may be wrong. Maybe my baby will have eleven toes instead of ten. Maybe they'll have a learning disability or have some rare genetic disease. Maybe I'll have to have an emergency C-section or I didn't eat enough vegetables and the baby will never eat carrots and forever have bad eyesight. But then there's the voice that tells me that even if my baby isn't perfect, I'll still think that they are.

3.) The stretch marks. Oh, the stretch marks. I joyously thought I'd dodged another bullet and managed to not get stretch marks, but it turns out that I just couldn't see them because my belly was too big. When I finally noticed that they were there, I was depressed for a week. It's not like I ever paraded my bare stomach around for all the world to see before I got pregnant, but my belly will not most assuredly never see the light of day now.

4.) Physically, pregnancy has been relatively easy on me. But I was simply unprepared for how mentally and emotionally difficult it has been on me. I'd like to put all the blame on the crazy pregnancy hormones, but that wouldn't really be accurate. While I was quite happy through my first two trimesters, I've been having a rough time of it these last three months. I did feel much better when my mom told me that she was often depressed in her third trimester and that it's quite normal for expectant mothers to fall into these funks. I just hope that since depression has hit me now, I can maybe avoid having post-partum depression as well. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

5.) Recognizing that my body has limitations. I keep forgetting that I can't run or walk as fast as I used to, that I can't sleep on my stomach, or even sit up without some assistance. I can't wait to have my body back and to not feel like I need a nap after running a 15-minute errand. I like to think about what a beautiful and selfless sacrifice I've made to carry this child and bring it into the world, but some days, I really do feel like nothing more than a walking incubator and I'm ready for that to be over. All I can say is that I'm truly grateful we have a nice air conditioned car.

6.) I did not have a single conversation at church today that did not involve a discussion of my baby, my due date, my excitement level, or how I'm feeling about being large with child. And while I completely understand that my massive belly is my most distinguishing characteristic right now, I can't wait to feel like an individual with my own identity again that is separate from my maternal state. I just hope the conversations I have post-partum will not revolve exclusively around poopy diapers or breastfeeding.

I just have to keep remembering that the end is in sight. And soon I'll have my own baby in my own two arms. Please just tell me that it's all been worth it. And even if it's not, just lie and tell me that it is, okay? 'Cause there's just no turning back now.

Baby Shower

My friends Jenn and Amber threw me a baby shower yesterday and it was fantastic. Now, lest you start freaking out that David and I didn't mention we had our baby, don't worry. I'm still very much pregnant (my arm is covering up much of my belly bump in this photo) and the baby David is holding belongs to our friend Amanda who gave birth to her adorable son last week.

Several people walked into the room, saw David holding a baby and gave us funny looks like "Did we miss something?"

The party was decorated in purples and yellows, two of my favorite colors. Jenn's daughter Miriya thinks that everything purple belongs to Miss Liz and whenever she draws me a picture, it's always in purple.

I made some mini-lime cheesecake cups and they were delicious. I've still got a few sitting in my refrigerator. Maybe I should go eat another one.

We ate a delicious meal of homemade breads, chicken salad, and Caesar salad and then played several games. For the first game, Amber gave David a list of questions and the women had to guess how David answered them. I loved his responses and I wanted to always remember them, so I typed them out here.

What does David think?

1. How many diapers will you change in 24 hours?
16 - babies poo a lot

2. How much will your baby weigh?
7 lbs 3 oz. [As long as the baby is under 8 lbs, I'll be happy.]

3. What will be your baby's first word?
Either mama and baba (mom and dad in Chinese)

4. What has Liz craved the most during her pregnancy?
In & Out and Chipotle [He got this one right. I dream about In & Out on a regular basis.]

5. How old will your baby be when it crawls?
5 months

6. At what age will your baby be when it takes its first steps?
8 months

7. Will your baby be born with or without hair and if so what color will it be?
with blonde hair

8. What color do you think your baby's eyes will be?
blue

9. What will be the first toy you buy your baby?
Legos/Duplo (the big Legos)

10. Where do you think your baby will serve his or her mission?
China

11. How old will your baby be when it sleeps through the night?
4 months and 5 days

12. What will be your baby's favorite solid food?
Sugar. Anything sugar owing to Liz's high sugar intake during pregnancy. [Man, I hope that isn't true.]

13. How old will your baby be when it gets its first tooth?
9 months. Hopefully it will be old enough not to bite Liz's breasts. I want them back unscathed. [Now this made me blush.]

14. How often will your newborn baby eat?
Every 53 minutes. Babies are hungry little critters.

15. What will your baby study at school?
That depends. It will either take after Liz and study history/art/literature, or like me and study math/science/business.

16. How old will your child be when it gets married?
25-27. None of that under 21 trash that so many Mormons do. (No offense!)

17. How old will your child be when it makes you a grandpa?
50. They are allowed to marry at 25, but they can't have sex till they are older.

18. What phrase do you think Liz will say during labor?
All the cliches. "You did this to me!" "I'm gonna cut off your....." etc. [I'll have to report back on what I really say. But I have been looking forward to putting David on a guilt trip during labor.]

19. How long do you think Liz will be in labor?
5 hours and 23 minutes [I wish. I'm guessing my first time will take a little longer but given my family history of relatively quick labors, I'm hoping for 8 hours.]

20. What would Liz say her favorite part of being pregnant is?
No headaches. It's easy. She gets out of car inspections. [My favorite part is feeling the baby move. But about the car inspections: when we drive onto the base, the security guards will sometimes do "random" car inspections to make sure you're not bringing anything illegal or dangerous onto the base. They've recently ramped up the number of inspections they perform and we've been pulled over a ridiculous number of times for them to look under our car, check inside our trunks and look under our hood. (It happened twice in one day, even.) But the last few times they've tried to inspect my car, I've very sternly said, "I'm nine months pregnant. I am not climbing out of my car so you can inspect it." And the flustered Korean men just wave me on by because they don't speak English well enough to argue with me. It's been nice.]

21. What piece of advice would you give someone having their first baby?
Seeing as how I had no idea how to answer these questions, I recommend that they learn more about baby development. But besides that, I'd tell the fathers to do everything they can to make the mother comfortable, and I'd tell the mothers to try not to worry about the things they can't control and to enjoy the experience of growing a baby as much as possible because guys will never know what that is like. [I think this is great advice.]

David is so excited for our baby to arrive. Of course, that's easy for him to say since he's not the one that actually has to push a baby out of him, but I'm getting pretty excited myself. I really hope the baby will come soon (mostly so we can avoid being induced) and every day brings us that much closer to having our own baby in our arms.

Tales of the Crazy Pregnant Lady

Normally, I'm pretty much a happy pregnant woman. I haven't been sick my entire pregnancy and the only thing I can complain about is gravity's ability to make my belly feel like it weighs 50 pounds at the end of the day. I try to maintain a positive attitude because I believe that my emotions have a direct effect on the baby. And most days, I feel like I'm pretty successful at staying upbeat and drama-free. But there are days when I become a frighteningly hormonal emotional crazy pregnant lady. Last Friday was one such day.

It all started when I woke up way to soon and after way too little sleep. Normally, I would have attempted to take a nap after being awake for a few hours but I had a doctor's appointment scheduled for 10:40 a.m. that day and didn't want to chance falling asleep and not waking up in time. So, I read the news and poked around online until it was time to head to the base's hospital.
The hospital's policy states that you need to be at your appointment 15 minutes before your scheduled time or else you are considered late. I don't know why they just don't schedule your appointment for 10:25 if that's what time they expect you to actually show up, but I'm always paranoid about being late anyway so it's not really a problem for me.

Except that Friday, in my sleep-deprived and pregnant state, I completely forgot about this rule. I left my house in what I thought was plenty of time to drive to the hospital in the pouring rain (monsoon season has begun), find a parking spot, and check in for my appointment with a few minutes to spare.

I realized just as I was pulling out of our parking gargage that I hadn't accounted for the 15 minutes and was now almost certain to be "late". What if I drove all the way there and they told me I was out of luck and had to re-schedule?

Instead of calmly continuing on my way (would they really cancel my appointment for being on time?), I did what any sane, logical person would do.

I started to cry and to think my life (and my baby's by extension) was ruined.

Because I was not sane or logical. I was crazy and hormonal and pregnant. And driving a moving vehicle.

I was making good time until a truck pulled out in front of me and proceeded to go 25 KPH (about 15 MPH) down the only road that connects one side of the base to the other. So I cried some more. Didn't Mr. Truck Driver realize he had a very distraught pregnant woman behind him who NEEDED to get to the hospital right away?

I eventually got around the truck and pulled into the hospital parking lot which is almost always completely full. I noticed one car had its lights on and so I waited for a little while, thinking they might be pulling out. They didn't budge so I continued on my way. And a few moments later, the car finally pulled out. There wasn't another open parking spot available so I prayed that I'd be able to get back around to the open spot before someone else beat me to it. Just as I was rounding the corner to get the spot, a car entered the parking lot and took the spot.

So I cried some more. Didn't that car realize that I was seven months pregnant and I NEEDED that spot so I wouldn't be late for my appointment and suffer the condemnation of the punctually-challenged?

Through my tears, I drove to the overflow parking lot some distance away from the hospital entrance and pulled into the first spot I saw. I grabbed my umbrella and purse and started walking as fast as my pregnant body would let me to the OB-GYN clinic (which is, of course, as far away from the hospital entrance as you can get). Unfortunately, my umbrella was no match for the monsoon rains and so I arrived at the hospital distraught, disgruntled, tear-stained and wet, my shoes now squishy and completely soaked through.

I high-tailed it to the OB-GYN clinic. It was 10:35 when I checked in, expecting to be berated for my "late" arrival. The receptionist didn't say anything and told me to go wait in the waiting room. All those tears for nothing? Stupid hormones.

I sat in a chair for a few minutes, trying to calm myself down, when an Army medic called my name to get my vitals. She weighed me and took my blood pressure. Now, I never look at my blood pressure reading because I have no idea what those numbers mean (despite David explaining it to me multiple times) and I'm always told that my blood pressure is normal anyway. The medic didn't say anything about it, so I thought nothing of it as she led me into an exam room to wait for the doctor.

When the doctor finally arrived, she said that my blood pressure was a little high and they wanted to run some tests (including a blood test and a 24-hour urine collection) to be sure I didn't have pre-eclampsia [hypertension which can lead to seizures]. The doctor noticed my less than happy response to this news. Even though I tried to explain that my "high" blood pressure might have something to do with me being a raging hormonal basket case, and that if they took my blood pressure again--now that I'd had time to calm down--it wouldn't be high at all. No such luck. I had to do the tests even though I have absolutely none of the other symptoms and signs of pre-eclampsia. None.

After my regular check-up, I went to the lab to have more blood drawn (which I HATE with a burning passion) and to collect my massive urine jug in which to deposit all my urine for 24 hours. (Another sign of pre-eclampsia is protein in your urine. Why they'd need a whole day's worth of urine to test for that.....I have no idea.)


My urine jug. Nice, huh? And you want to know the best part? The urine had to be refrigerated. Yup, my urine got to sit in fridge next to the apple juice and eggs.

I spent the rest of Friday sitting on the couch, staring into space with a sad, melancholy look on my face. David just kept giving me a small, tentative smile with a look in his eyes that read: "Holy crap, what do I do with my crazy pregnant wife?"

Luckily I got over it. And for the record, I drank so much water the day I "collected" my sample that I filled the whole jug up, much to the surprise of both David and the fine folks at the lab. That's what you get when you mess with a hormonal pregnant lady. I also took my blood pressure today and it was absolutely normal. Stupid tests.*

*Of course, I'm all for being cautious in situations like these, but I felt given the situation and the fact that I have no other indications of pre-eclampsia, it was a waste of everyone's time. I'd rather they had me monitor my blood pressure for a week to see if it remained high and then ordered the tests.

Anyway, sorry for all the talk about my urine. I'm sure most of you didn't want to read about that. Or about my raging pregnancy hormones. The next time I decide to be an emotional wreck, I sure hope it's over something substantial.

Ah pregnancy. It sure is fun sometimes. And since it's been awhile, here are some pictures of my ever-growing belly.

29 weeks, taken June 19th

32 weeks, taken July 6th


Me and my babies :-)

One More Thing to Spend Money On.....

My birthday was last month and this year, I asked for a sewing machine. I used to sew many, many years ago, in high school. I took "clothing" for two semesters during my senior year and I loved learning how to make my own clothes. I even made a fully lined jacket for my final project. It looked awful, but hey, sewing well takes a lot of patience (which I'm often short of) and practice. Unfortunately, I went off to college and then grad school and even though my Mom gave me her old Singer sewing machine from the 60's, I never learned how to thread the dang thing and so I never sewed. (And then I gave it to my sister since I didn't want to haul it around the country. That thing was not light.) But I've been itching more and more to pick the hobby back up and now seemed like the perfect time.

David and I looked at all the sewing machines at the PX, which had a grand total of three. Two Singers and one Brother model. I didn't want to spend a lot of money on a new machine, I just wanted something simple and relatively cheap to re-learn on and that would last me for a few years. If I find that I start to sew a lot, then I'll purchase a better machine. But for now, this one works just great. I decided on the Singer over the Brother after reading some reviews, but I feel a bit more loyalty to Singer (even though they use Brothers on Project Runway). It's got a bunch of crazy stitches which I'll probably never use but I liked this model better than the more basic, cheaper model. Plus, fun red.

So why did I want to sew again?

Aside from minor tailoring jobs, I'm not really interested in sewing clothes. I might get to that point again (to make basic skirts and pajama pants) but I really wanted to learn how to quilt and to do some fun home projects, especially for the baby. And as luck would have it, one of my friends in my ward decided to start a quilting group for all levels. She's an amazing sewer and had gotten back into quilting in recent months and decided that she should share her knowledge. We meet once a month to learn new techniques, to get pointers, and make goals.

My first project was sewing this practice square. When I started, I planned to sew a few pieces and come back to it. But I found I enjoyed it so much that I finished it that day. It took me about three hours because I got a little anal and wanted everything to match up perfectly and so I ripped out a lot of stitches. In the end it wasn't perfect, but I find that I like that better. That's a skill I need to learn--to not stress out over imperfections.

This month's project was to work on hand quilting. I didn't want to do it at first. I hate sewing by hand and I'm actually not big on the true quilting aspect of quilting; I like crazy patchwork with minimal quilted design. But after getting started on my square, I found that I really enjoyed hand quilting. It's strangely therapeutic and richly rewarding.

Here's what it looks like once I wiped off the marking. I have a second square which I was going to machine quilt but I like hand quilting so much that I'm going to do that one by hand as well. Then I want to dye these squares to match the nursery and hang them on the wall. (But I'll get to that in a second.)

We're also doing humanitarian aid projects and this will eventually be a colorful wall hanging to be hung in an orphanage or nursery. It's nothing terribly complex or special, but I did have to teach myself a bit about quilt math in order to cut things to the right size and to have my seams match up.

My big project that I hope to get started on in the next week is a crib quilt for the nursery. Shopping around for nursery items, I quickly realized that I did not want to spend a fortune on baby bedding and nursery decor when I could buy fabric and make it myself. And I could make it how I wanted it. There's a lot of cute stuff out there for babies, but nothing I was absolutely in love with.

I headed off to Dongdaemun with absolutely no idea what I was looking for, but at least I had picked my pattern (think boxes inside of boxes). Even though I'm pretty sure I'm baking up a little boy here, I was still a little hesitant to pick fabrics that were overtly boyish. I wandered through five floors of crowded stalls, looking through mounds of fabric and didn't find anything that I really loved. And then I saw it: a cream fabric with red, blue and brown stars. It wasn't blatantly patriotic, but it was close enough to invoke America to me. And I thought, "My baby is an American and it'll be American whether it's a boy or a girl so dangit, it's getting a red, white, and blue quilt!"

These are a bunch of the fabrics I've chosen (the main one is on the far right). I don't know if I'm going to use all the fabrics and colors, but at least I've got a good amount to start with. I plan on making a quilt and a wall hanging (and my hand quilted squares with the Celtic stars will look nice in the nursery as well). I've also been looking for other patterns and tutorials to make stuffed toys as well. I'm really looking forward to getting started. Hopefully, once I get going, it won't take me long. I've got less than 6 months to pull it all off. Whee!

As usual, I always welcome recommendations and tips. I know there are a lot of more experienced fellow sewers out there.

Welcome Baby Malone!

Now that our Taiwan trip has been documented for all posterity (and the internet) to see, I can finally talk about what I've been dying to talk about for 2 months now......I'm pregnant!

I don't think that should come as shock to anyone who frequents my blog since I believe all of you are my friends on Facebook as well and I already made an announcement there. But as always, the blog is a great place to elaborate on life's adventures.

But first I must make a Very Important Announcement. David would like me to assure everyone who has read about our Taiwan trip that the food in Taiwan is actually VERY good and that the only reason I did not experience culinary bliss there was due to my pregnant--and oftentimes very nauseous--state. Again, I repeat, the food in Taiwan is AMAZING but not if you are pregnant. Satisfied David?

Anyway, back to the fun, we're-having-a-baby stuff! (And I'm actually having a baby. I've dreamt I've given birth to a litter of kittens before, so it was a relief to see a real human inside of me.)
Here he is! I say he--and will continue to say he until proven wrong (which we won't be)--because David and I are 95% positive our little baby is a boy. I wasn't expecting to actually see our baby at our 12 week check-up--just to hear his heartbeat--but it was such a wonderful surprise when this image popped up on the screen. I can't feel him moving at all yet, but he was doing back flips and somersaults inside my uterus. It was also just so comforting to know that a baby was, in fact, inside of me. Those first 12 weeks it's so easy to doubt that there's really a baby growing in there (despite the nausea).

We're now headed into week 15, which means our baby is due on August 25th. (The doctor bumped our due date up a week.) While I wish I had more options for doctors and delivery--since we're restricted to the Army hospital here--I'm not terribly nervous about giving birth so far away from home and family since we have a wonderful group of friends here who have already been educating me on all things baby.

David and I are both very excited for our baby. Since arriving in Korea, I'd been feeling more and more ready to start our family but I knew that David was still a little unsure. Then, out of the blue, sometime in October, David told me that he'd been thinking about it and he felt that we should start trying for a baby in December and I agreed. So December rolled around and I got pregnant on the first try. (David will be forever proud of that fact.)

I found out I was pregnant for sure two days before Christmas but we decided to wait until my first trimester was over to spread the news. Apparently, the rest of my family also decided that November/December was a good time to get pregnant since my sister-in-law Elisa, my sister Cassy, and two of my cousins are all expecting babies in August/September. My parents are doubling their grandchildren in a one month period! At least our baby will have lots of cousins to play with.

I'm enjoying being pregnant so far. I haven't been terribly sick--I feel the worst at night--and I'm looking forward to feeling and looking more pregnant. Plus, it's been a great excuse to buy new clothes!

What We've Been Up To....

Well, I'm still on the mainland but no longer in California. We flew out of LAX late on Sunday night and arrived in Atlanta, Georgia (David's hometown) Monday morning. But I'm getting ahead of myself now. First things first: California!

We had a bit of a family reunion in San Diego. All my siblings (minus the one who still lives there), flew in for the occasion, and my aunt and three cousins also drove down from Utah. For most of the week, David and I had just been laying around, enjoying our vacation. Or, at least, I was. David was trying to catch up on 3 weeks of homework. On Friday, we (minus David), went to the beach, which is always a fun experience when you've got little babies with you who love the water and sand.

Brigham dug a hole for Anna and James which was then filled with water from a wave. Anna had a very good time splashing around in her little pool.

She also could not get enough sand in her mouth. She'd take huge clumpfuls in his tiny fists and shove it into her mouth. Mmmmm, sand.

Have I mentioned that I love my niece Anna? She's the cutest most chubby, happy baby in the whole world.

She has the cutest face and chubby cheeks. And her hair is turning a pretty shade of red. Love!


Of course my newest little niece, Isabel, might just give her a run for her money. She's pretty darn cute too, but hasn't had enough time to build up those nice stores of fat that I like to see in babies. She is, after all, only 2 weeks old. But since the whole family was there on Sunday, my sister and her husband blessed baby Isabel in my parent's ward. It was great to be there. She slept through the whole thing but she looked so adorable in her (too big) blessing clothes.

Anyway, on Friday, we went to the beach, came home, got showered and cleaned and then the whole family went to the San Diego temple to do a session there. It was such a neat experience to be in the temple with most of my family. After that, we went to dinner at Fidel's, our family's favorite Mexican restaurant.

Saturday was our one year wedding anniversary! I can't believe David and I have been married for a whole year now. The time has really flown by, in the best way possible. As a treat to ourselves, we went to a day spa and got a couple's massage. It was absolutely splendid. I need to get massages on a more regular basis. I'm always way too tense. That afternoon, we took family photos at my parent's house (I'll post some of those pictures later, if I can find a good one) and this time, David got to be in all the photographs! Then we had a big barbeque in honor of our whole family being there and my dad's upcoming 60th birthday next month. Old man. It was a splendid day.


Meanwhile, Suyom spent most of her week, sitting on my mother's computer desk, watching all the birds who were flitting around the three birdhouses out there. Someday, she might catch a real bird. If we ever let her outside, that is. Or maybe we'll get her a pet.

Sunday, we blessed baby Isabel and then David and I re-packed everything and drove up to LAX to catch our 11pm flight to Atlanta. Worst flight ever. Suyom would not stop meowing, I was miserable because I had a sinus infection which, coupled with the pressure of the plane, was making my head feel like it was about to explode and I could not sleep. At all. We got into Atlanta at 6am on Monday morning and we promptly went to David's parent's house and slept. I was pretty miserable all Monday and most of Tuesday, but I am feeling much better. I swear, my body hates me right now. I even broke out in hives for the first time ever.....because of stress. My body is freaking out....I just can't wait to see what it'll do once we get to Korea.

I'll be back soon to document our week here in Atlanta. And then.....KOREA!

Holy crap. I'm moving to South Korea.

Post-Partum Aunt Depression

Shocked? I know Anna is....it's been a loooong time since my last post.

In my defense, I'm having a serious case of the blahs. Sometimes when life gets too busy--or too boring--I shut down and become incapable of doing anything productive even though I can think of twelve thousands various things to do. Also, I'm in withdrawal right now.

I miss these two. Those big beautiful eyes! Those pouty lips! And the chubby cheeks. I need some chubby cheeks to squeeze....and soon.

Aww, look. A little smile. James is such a good big brother, when he remembers that he has a sister....

Is this picture killing anyone else? Babies! Asleep!**

Due to the ever reliable and efficient way that military flights run, I got to spend two extra days with my sister, her husband, and her adorable children. But before I could let Anna go, I thought I'd teach her a thing or two about accessorizing.

She really loved my red necklace. Besides, as her aunt, it's my duty to make sure that she is always adorable and looking fabulous.

Perhaps next time, I should teach her to accessorize with her clothes. You know....when she's actually wearing some.

Just a thought.

I promise to be back with more posts soon. I've got some pictures to share of the cats (yes plural, heaven help me) and I thought I'd start blogging about all the books I've been reading lately. Or I could tell you all about the joys of getting a root canal and the subsequent pain I have been experiencing, but I have a hunch ya'll might not be as interested in that as kitties.

But I could always be wrong.

**Dear Cassy,
Thank you for coming to visit and bringing your babies and making my womb jump with joy and think it wants a baby of its own. Thank you SO very much. Also, can Brigham come visit again? He's such an excellent dishwasher.
Love your sister who is NOT pregnant,
Liz