As Dr. Suess says...

I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind.
Some come from ahead and some come from behind.
But I've bought a big bat. I'm all ready you see.
Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!
~Dr. Seuss

My mom has Cancer...again. Cancer. Again. One word can change the way you see everything. One word can make your heart skip a beat, make your stomach turn circles, and send your anxiety to new levels.

Tumors, biopsies, Cancer...Chapel Hill...Chemo...surgery...appointments...a fight. We are still waiting for her in-depth diagnosis. We are waiting for her plan. In short, we wait.

Our mother has always been a fighter; strong and courageous. But this battle she will not fight alone. We are with her through each step of the way. Any one of us would gladly take her cancer upon ourselves if it meant she would be safe, and well. But cancer doesn't work that way.

So sleep well momma, I'll bring the bat.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

When you feel like giving up, remember why you held on for so long in the first place

I love you!

Cheers to Bad Grammar, Run-ons and Terrible Punctuation...

This is for you mom. :) you know I love you.

I grew up on the cusp on the spell-check age. We turned in typed copies the majority of my college prep years. I right-clicked my way through most assignments and never gave all those squiggly red and green lines a second thought.

I was discussing my blog with my mom. As an undeclared professional proofreader, she's appalled that someone as myself can write something with so many errors. Mind you, I DO have an English degree. However, I did remind her that a blog is supposed to be the written version of a thought, or in my case, thousands of thoughts that run together and typically make no sense. Was that a run-on with lots of commas? :)

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I was able to see my family for an extended visit home to the beach for 10 days. It was so nice to be back.

Don't get me wrong, there isn't a damn thing wrong with WV. Hell, look at the license plate, it's "Wild and Wonderful". We're blessed with an amazing family here. But, I am not a WV girl. I've got sand and salt water coursing through my veins. Everyone has their HOME and for each and every person, their home is the best. It's what made them; it's who they are. There isn't one place that is BETTER than another, unless you ask a person their own opinion. For one, their home is going to better than the others.

So for me, my home is the best. And I miss my home.

I miss the South and all that goes along with it. I miss the BBQ, the real BBQ. The kind that makes your mouth turn in a little, fried chicken, greens, the waterway, slow-ass people on a Sunday (well I guess that's everywhere, on any given day!), sweating as soon as you walk out the door, "yes Ma'am", "no Ma'am", assumed community responsibility, black people, hispanic people, produce stands EVERYWHERE, sandy feet, lawn chairs, boat shoes and boat trailers, bathing suits as proper attire, a southern draw, pine trees, dogwoods, azaleas, family ...everything I grew up with, I miss. Grass is always greener right? Well...the grass stays greener a lot longer down there.

You can't help what you love.

I love my family.

We're boring, pretty quiet at times. We've been known to stare at the TV and not say a word. But I don't care. I love them.

My parents have worked hard their entire lives. Who's hasn't I guess. My mom worked as a nurse for a long time...working her way up the food chain. She's now what I like to call a big-wig for a large pharmaceutical development company. Of course she wants to pull her hair out on a daily basis. What do they say?, "With great power comes great responsibility", and a lot of annoying people that don't leave you alone and make your hair turn grey". My Daddy is now retired after a long career in law enforcement. More specifically he worked in homicide (juvenile I believe!), yikes. He also owned his own successful computer business for years, sold that and finally bought a boat and an x-box and left the working to the rest of the world...and mom. :) It's a nice break for daddy. He's always wanted a boat. You should see the peace on his face when he climbs in it, priceless.

Decisions, Decisions...

So I have two jobs. Well, I guess if I want to get technical, I could say I have four jobs. Job one, stay at home with the kiddos all day. Job two, take online courses over the summer (two). And I have somehow gotten myself into a pickle here - I have accepted TWO jobs waiting tables/bartending. Not sure which one to keep. Haven't told one I will be gone for the next 10 days. The other knows I will be gone and he isn't sure if he can wait the 10 days b/c they are so busy. So I may not have any job by the time this is all said and done. Have to tell job 1 that I will be gone. Immediately after, I have to go to job two and work all night, hope I do well enough for him to keep me even though I will be gone.

How do I get myself into this crap?

Oh job number five, being a wife. Yeah...I may have been fired from that one. Not sure yet. :)

2 and 1.

Laundry day. Well what day isn't really. Trying to get get ready for a trip to NC is almost like trying to move. I don't mind though. Even going to see our family an hour and a half away for a few days takes some packing savvy. I always forget something. It's not a simple throw the kids in the car and go sort of thing. There are medicines, diapers, wipes, cups, snacks, bottles, clothes, clothes, clothes, hair ties, brushes, ect. Never as easy as it sounds. My least favorite is coming back. The putting back of things. Not a fan. If there were money trees, I think I'd just toss everything each time we traveled and start over, ha ha.

My summer plans are as follows; take two summer classes online, stay home with the kids, and wait tables at night. Yikes. I am going in blindly, just assuming that I can and will do this. I am imagining a nice chunk of change at the end of the summer to begin the fall semester with. I am ignoring the very likely scenario that I will be exhausted.

It was a sobering experience filling out applications. At one of the places, the manager pointed out a girl and told me that she held a masters degree from Ohio State and could not find a job. Well, at least I'm not the only one. Kind of made me feel good in one way. I am not above doing what I need to do. Education doesn't mean much today, but hard work goes a long way. So cheers to working your butt off and hoping it gets you somewhere.

If I could only talk someone into implementing a plan to trade in useless bachelor degrees for more useful ones...no charge!

New Stats

Payton - 1 and 1

Dry Night #1

Payton - 1 and 0. No drinks after 6, dry night happy morning.

The Statistics

So...if you trust the internet, which most of us do, I found that only 65% of children between the ages of 3-4 are able to "wake up dry" even though they are fully potty-trained during the day.

This morning, I had not yet had the opportunity to get the Pull-Up off of P when she informs me that she just 'peed' in her Pull-Up. Nice language, I know. I was ticked. I didn't show it, but I was ticked. I went into a much too long explanation for a 3 1/2 year old about how that was not appropriate and informed her that the Pull-Ups were no more. So here I am, hours later, a new bag of water-proof...stuff doubting those very words.

I am wondering, am I doing the right thing? She typically does NOT wake up dry. Do we wake her during the night to use the bathroom, no we haven't gotten there yet. She certainly doesn't wake up on her own to use the restroom. Am I rushing something that isn't ready? Am I setting her up to be anxious about something over which she has no control? I have no idea.

Who would have thought 'pee' could be such an issue. Ugh.

Guess I'll have to consult the big guns. That's right...mom.

Silence before the sun peaks through
the dawn. Only a slight scratching sound through
the monitor. One by one, the silence fades.

Heads of blonde hair
flowing, curling, glimmering
against the sun shining through the windows.

Familiar tones of the morning blues
soften momentarily to fill bellies
emptied by a not so long nights sleep.

Tears, kisses, hugs, laughter.
Running, squealing, screaming, banging,
crawling, climbing, standing...

Arms open, smiling lips "daddy you're
home!".

Four plates and a high chair, food scattered
on the floor. War of wills and forks and spoons.

Swimming in the open waters of soap, toys and
wash cloths. Damp blonde heads travel to their rooms
one by one.

"Goodnight Moon", more kisses and hugs. Soft humming,
goodnight sweet babies.

Quiet.

Doctors, Family and Wheel Bearings

Friday, I had yet another doctors appointment. This IS getting kind of silly, yes. On the bright side, I was able to come off of my blood pressure meds, though I started taking something else. Nothing like keeping the medication cabinet full. Dear pharmacy god, can I please be yellow medicine bottle free for at least a couple of years? I love my liver and would like to keep it. Thank you, that's all.

My neurologist gave me the green light, well the 90% green light. My GP and the neuro had mentioned MS as a possibility. So I was scared to death. I have seen both ends of the MS spectrum. A really good friend of mine's mother has lived with MS for years and remains a positive, outgoing, vivacious, active member of society. My dad's cousin however no longer has the ability to speak, is confined to her bed and also prisoner so-to-speak to all her thoughts that can not escape through her lips. My cervical spine and brain MRI was perfect. 90% of the time, patients with MS typically will have lesions in one of the scans. He wanted to do another of my lower spine and a spinal tap, but I declined. He said if I have another flare-up, we'll go from there.

HOWEVER, true to form, one problem leading to another, one road leading to the next (that would be one doctors office leading to the next)...they found a lesion on my thyroid...or parathyroid. So off I go to a general surgeon. Another cut, another slice, another scar. Another day. When can I STOP being a patient and just be a wife and a mom?

For most people, I am just some freak of nature that either causes these things or just has the worst luck. Since I can't cause a lesion, or the laundry list of other things, I go with option 2. I have had to learn that others can think what they want, and I just don't care anymore. I can't.

Could the lesion be cancer, sure, but unlikely. But if it is, I can honestly say that, "Frankly Scarlett, I just don't give a damn". Not sure if I got that one right. Cancer shmanser. My mom has beaten the beast twice and if this particular beast has chosen me, it is notoriously the weakest cancer beast alive. It'll just be a pain in the butt for everyone. I come from a long line of strength, and when it counts, my genes kick in. Worried? Nope. Annoyed? Very much so.

We went to visit the inlaws this weekend. It's funny, there are so many jokes and sympathies that comes with the "inlaw" term. I don't really have those. They are my family too. Of course we all do things differently. But who can honestly say that they do things exactly the way their own mothers, fathers, sister or brothers do things? No one can say that. It doesn't happen. Diversity is what makes a family fun, it keeps us talking and it keeps us moving. How boring would life be if each and every one of us did the same thing?

My youngest sister in law graduated from her radiology tech program. It's amazing that at 20 years old her whole world will be open for her. She will make a true living and be independent at 20. Her sister did the same thing. There is something to be said for making good choices, making great ones, and making the right ones. They made the right decisions for them and they are and will be very successful because of it. I hope she is as excited and as proud as her smile shows her to be. She has worked hard, overcome some things and has come out on the other side a beautiful young woman, ready to tackle the world. Go Ally!

My nieces and nephews are amazing. Again, so different. Payton loves them all so very much and they are all so sweet to her. Even the budding young man Chase has a soft spot in his heart for all his young, female counter parts.

I can only imagine the pride that their parents feel, let alone the grandparents. The kids are all well behaved and exhibit great manners when expected, and enough spunk when needed! They are all beautiful. So many girls, yet none of them the same. Brenna, so laid back, smart, amazing with the little ones. Avery, a bubbling little brook of beauty, curly hair and enough priss to go around. She's shy but outgoing, sensitive and gives some great hugs. Kinny and Cade - they are funny. Kinny and Payton play so well together. Cade has made so much progress in his communication and is growing and changing each time I see him.

Alyssa is a little momma and little woman in a little girls body. She of course fits right in with her peers. Her long brown hair, brown eyes and olive skin radiate each time I see her. The girls has some legs, let me tell ya. Ashlynn (did I even spell her name right? Oh boy) just turned 4. Dora, Dora, Dora. And Vera Bradley of course. Addison is getting so big. So big in fact, I believe she is now taller than Emery.

I feel like I don't see them much, but those are the things that stick out about them. They are very sweet and loving children. A pleasure.

I had the opportunity to play Vera Bradley Bingo while I was there. The misconception that Bingo was strictly for the elderly has been washed away! I had so much fun! No, I didn't win a bag much to my own disappointment, but fun it was. Watch out Bingo ladies. Next time I'm coming with my gold-plated Bingo stamper thingy!

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Dear Car,

While you have taken me many places, I'm not sure I appreciate you. You have rescued us at a time of financial instability, but I don't feel stable. You have suffered the wear and tear of 125,000 miles, but still I feel you owe me more. Why? Because I do not want to fix you any more. I do not want to give you money.

You protected me when Mr. Red Truck ran me off the road, but still I find no solace in your seat. Like a true American car you keep running with a tune up and some parts, and if you must die, you insist on dying with style. Though one day, all cars go to metal heavan, please prolong your stay on Earth by a few more years. Please no longer require money from our wallets aside from oil changes and food to keep you going.

Do your duty oh American car and fight the good fight.

I do not hold you responsible for bad wheel bearings that left me stranded on Sunday. You are only as good as your parts, and your parts were bad. Your brand new part was bad.

A Report Card

2 A's and 2 B's...pretty good I'd say for going back with three little ones! Thank you Clark! :)

So today I decided (after much nap protesting from Emery) that the girls could have their quiet time together. I am not sure if I'd use the word mistake. Funny? Yes.

I am feeding Jack, trying to get him down for his nap, hoping and praying that the girls don't bust out of Payton's room and run in. I can hear faint giggling, the pitter-patter of toddler feet. Then, I hear Laurie Berkner loud and clear coming from Payton's CD player. I guess she figured out how to turn that on. So a nap, turned to a dance party.

And We Have a Crawler!

He did it! After numerous attempts to move those little legs, little Jack is on the move. Payton and I were little cheerleaders this morning as he made the long journey from the living room into the dining room. It's great for her to share those moments, hopefully she will remember that kind of stuff. It seems as though it's as exciting for her as it is for me. My little man, my last little baby is growing up and is one the move!

We were watching videos of Payton when she was about 19 months, the same age as Emery is now. We knew there was a difference. How could there not be, my little Emery made her debut into this world months before she was supposed to and big sister certainly did not. Payton was singing the ABC's, doing "Head and Shoulders Knees and Toes" and showing off many other talents.

It's taboo to compare, and I'm not truly comparing, but they are at completely different cognitive levels for the same age. As I say that, my little Emery is smart. When I say "little", I mean little. The girl is still wearing 12 months (and can even wear 9 months) at 19 months. Doctor assures me all is well, but a mom can't help but worry a bit.

Small or not, she packs a punch! She's adding to her vocabulary weekly and while she can't put two words together, she has words. Each step and each accomplishment I feel is a small victory to us. She waddles around the house, full of life and laughter. She is in complete and total love with Payton. There is nothing better than a big sister in her book.

Right now, she's carrying around her baby-dolls. Her dolls HAVE to be without their clothes, not sure why - but the girl loves a naked baby! She loves them, 'feeds' them and rocks them. She's independent with a dependency on kisses, hugs and tickles. Like Payton, she's particular. She likes certain toys in a row, or separated just so. But at the same time, she's partial to dumping a whole basket of toys out on the floor. I think she would roll around on them as well if it didn't hurt.

She's taken a liking to sleeping on the floor. My poor little baby. We are trying to help her to continue her great sleeping pattern; going to to sleep by herself. She's not a fan anymore. I know it's probably age, but she wants mommy or daddy there the entire time. So we reluctantly let her cry. Never for more than about 5 minutes or so, but she doesn't last that long. She thinks she's 'defying' us by refusing to sleep in her bed, so she sleeps on the floor, next to the door until we put her back in bed asleep. Kind of makes my heart break!

I don't talk about Emery a lot. I do more NOW, but I didn't before. She was my first true frightening experience. When she was born, she was taken from me via c-section. As they wheeled her by they let me see her as I was lying on the table. They brought the isolette by and I couldn't find her. Then I saw her little face buried amidst the blankets. I was struck with the severity of the situation immediately. I could hear the echo of my heart racing on the monitor, a lump formed in my throat and tears were pouring down the sides of my face. It was a silent cry that twisted my insides apart. All my energy and emotions were with her so I didn't have the ability to make a sound.

Before something happens that could be dangerous, you never truly 'get it'. It was when I saw her and heard her that I knew things were bad. Things were going to be scary and my little girl may not live to tell her story. But, by the grace of God my tiny little girl took her uphill battle like a walk in the park. She completed her NICU stay 'by the book'. Seven weeks and one day later, she came home.

I had distanced myself from her, or distanced my heart I should say. I didn't want to feel loss if there was to be a loss. I didn't want to feel any of it. I wasn't even able to feel her against my skin until 6 days after she was born.

But just the way she sailed through her time in the NICU, she has sailed through life and all the changes that have been inflicted upon her. New homes, new baby, sick mommy.

My kids are strong, my kids are wonderful. They each have their own special stories and have each already overcome so much. And, they're kinda cute too. :)

Mothers Day...Coming Soon

Payton's preschool did such a great job of celebrating their mothers! They sang a couple of songs and did interviews. I'll admit, I was scared to death of what Payton would say about me; "mommy has a boo-boo and lays on the couch" or "mommy is always sick". But I was pleasantly surprised. The last question was "you love mommy beacuse..." her answer was, "Because I love my family". It is so wonderful to me that she holds us all so dear. That girls loves her family unit and can't STAND it when it's 'broken' apart (work, school, ect).

I feel like I always make depressive posts about things. Don't get me wrong, I love my life (well a couple extra bucks would be great) and I CERTAINLY love my babies and my husband. But, it's days like Mother's Day that leave me feeling inadequate in many ways. Sure, I've had surgery and have been down for a bit. I know that alone will require time to get my energy back. But sometimes, I feel less than a mother.

I never hear of other mom's completely lacking in energy, I don't hear them feel overwhelmed. Is it just me? Is there something wrong with me?

Each and every one of my children are perfect and amazing in so many different ways. I shower them with kisses, hugs and cuddles. We laugh together, we play together (when I can stop cleaning and making sure the house isn't a complete disaster!).

But sometimes I am short with them and overwhelmed. I am tired, tired to the bone. I am 28. Why?

I can only hope that they don't see as much fault in me as I see in myself. I hope they will see me one day as I see my own mother. Strong, educated and hardworking - but most of all, I hope they see me as a woman that love them with all of my being and would do anything for them. That's who my mom is - I hope I can be like her.

UGH!

I am seriously thinking of PAYING someone to get this blog design right for me! My expertise only goes so far eblogger!

The Hysteria of the Hysterectomy

Way back when, hysterectomies were preformed to 'cure' women of being affected by hysteria. These days we would probably call it PMS, being emotional, or just being a woman.

So on Weds, I went in for my cure for my hysteria; but I'm still a woman - uterus or not. It's been interesting. I can say, a C-section certainly doesn't hold a candle to the pain of a hysterectomy. Hands down - ouch.

I was relieved to see the mass that was, really wasn't. And came to find out my uterus looked like a marshmallow. So does that mean it could be a miniature stand in for the Stay Puff guy in the Macy's Day Parade? Probably not. But, it does mean there was a sure and definite reason for the pain and suffering I've endured since Jack was born. It's nice to know not ALL of you is crazy. I can accept a half-crazy diagnosis.

It's next to impossible for me to be still, to be in bed. I hear the kids moving and I want to move with them. Supposedly I can't even lift more than 10 lbs for 6 weeks?! These people are crazy. I must listen though and I must heal or I could be down for longer. I think 2-3 weeks sounds a bit more reasonable though.

It's amazing to me that I can't hang out with the kids and care for them (lifting, climbing over gates, ect), but I can go to school. I guess the driving isn't doing anything to me and walking a couple of yards and sitting down is much different than caring for children - but it just seems wrong. Doc says sure it's fine, but I have a feeling it won't make sense to a lot of people - like ME!

I am fastening this backwards back-brace type contraption around my stomach constantly; trying to make in comfortable. It's supposed to keep everything in place. Funny, that's kind of what I thought my skin and such was for. I know, I know, counter pressure, containment...blah blah. Still kind of funny.

So here I am, mind 60% in tact (typical percentage I'd say), body in tact, minus a few parts, and a perfect family, sleeping away for the night.

Absolutely Blessed

As hard as the day to day might be at times, as hard as we struggle to make ends meet - we are truly blessed.

My babies are beautiful, full of life and spirit and certainly full of strength.

For a bonus on a test, my professor asked us to write down 5 things that we were thankful for. Odd addition to a math test I'll admit, but nice. To take a moment and think of the great things in life help to shove the not so good in their place.

Clark and I are blessed to have each other. We have been through so much in a marriage that is approaching 5 years. I feel blessed to know that no matter what, no matter why, he loves me and supports me. He thinks I am a wonderful mother and I suppose he thinks I'm worth keeping as a wife as well. It's nice to know that no matter what - he supports us and loves us.

I think when you become a mother, you also become a target. The way you do things will never be the way that others would do them. But what I have learned is that you always do the best you can. You always do what's best for your family. There is always someone who will disagree, there is always someone who would do things differently. But that's okay. That's life.

We are blessed to have an amazing family. I venture to say there aren't too many people out there that can attest to the fact that they have family, no matter what side, that drop everything and come to your side. It is because of the love of our family that we have made it through very hard times. It is also because of family that we have a blast through the great times as well.

Today I am loving my large family. From North Carolina to West Virginia, I couldn't have picked a more loving more perfect set of people to call 'ours'.

So today, we are absolutely blessed.

The Hall of Turtles

There are little turtles painted on the floor of the pediatric intensive care unit. "Turtles survived the Earth's ages of ice and continue to flourish. ", turtles are the "symbol of the primal mother", and others believe the turtle is associated with longevity, great age, and wisdom.

So, I guess it's fitting that the marker to Jack's room has a little turtle next to the number 17. He has survived so much...his own little ice age. The nurses are all like mothers, with a refreshing and seemingly innate desire to care for and love the children that are in PICU. I hope too that Jack is like a turtle. I pray that he will have longevity and great age. I can look in his young little eyes and see a wisdom that can only come from the places that he has been in such a short period of time. My little man, I love you so.

His little lips have been pursed, his eyes streaming with tears. He's miserable, and I can't help. He crackles and wheezes, cries in pain. But, he has his little moments when he smiles and his dimples come through and the light in his eyes shines. I live for those.

It's hard enough to stand by and watch helplessly, hold him while he cries; but it almost takes my breath away when he's looking for me to rescue him while they stick an IV, suction, do a procedure and I can't.

I think if you have more than 2 children, you should automatically get a clone of yourself to bring out of the closet in certain situations. Yesterday, Jack was in one hospital while Emery was in another. I was faced with a choice I would prefer to not be faced with. I had to choose which child to stay with, which child needed me more. Neither of them would have known the difference, but I did. I had to choose Jack. I had to choose Jack over Emery. He was sicker, yes, Emery had her daddy and family, but I still had to choose and I couldn't choose both.

I would give the world to hold all of my children, and give them all lots of hugs and kisses. But I'll take one day at a time. I can't hold them all, if they aren't all at home.

As much as I can't stand the mis-matched carpet, the awful wallpaper, ancient drapery and lack of a coastal breeze, I'd pay a million dollars to sit on that old carpet with my babies, all together, and just breath.

Coming from a girl who never wanted to be married, and certainly never wanted children, I absolute, positively can't wait to kiss my husband and laugh with my babies.

Dear Blog

If you would quit requiring me to reset my password every time I want to post, then I would probably post more often!

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It's March! My birthday is around the corner and I will be a whopping 28 years old...I think. One starts to loose track after 25 I think.

For the first time in quite some time, the sun is shining through the curtains. If the warm weather would follow, it would be a perfect day. What to do when the sun is shining but the weather is cold? Probably stay inside.

Jack is getting his first tooth. The top was barely sticking out this morning. I'll admit it, I cried...just for a minute. It's the beginning of the last of our baby firsts. Don't get me wrong, I am more than satisfied with the number of children. Still, it's bitter sweet in some ways.

My little Emery is crazed. Absolutely crazed. She is for sure a climber, in all aspects of the word. If you turn your back you are likely to find her on the side table, the dining room table or Clarks computer desk. She of course thinks this is hilarious. Busy, busy, busy that one.

Payton looks like she has grown about 10 inches and acts like she has aged a couple of years (sometimes). She is such a wonderful big sister, a little mommy. She wants to do everything for the babies, well, most of the time! I try to tell her it's not her responsibility, but she says, "but mommy I want to!". So I let her help me sometimes.

School is going well, all to the credit of Clark I have to say. It's so nice to have the full support of your husband. I couldn't imagine trying to take this on and NOT have someone so loving and willing to do anything to help me succeed.

It seems like every time I have tried to go to school, I got pregnant! So now fours and three children later, we are trying it again! I WILL be a nurse!

There are a lot of people who question my ability to do this and the time I have to spend away from home. While they are right in thinking it will be hard, and it's hard for me to be away; the end result will make for a much brighter future for the family as a whole. We try to keep our eye on the 'prize' so-to-speak. That will make it all worth it in the end. The degree will certainly make me happy, I know that. But, it will also allow Payton to continue to be in gymnastics if she wants, allow Emery and Jack to explore what they enjoy. It will give us the opportunity to enrich their lives...the opportunity that one income with a family of five will not allow us to do.

Every family wants to give the world to their children. We do too, but the world comes at a price. We have to work, and work hard to get to that place. The place where headaches come from the noise of fighting and a dirty house, instead of the overwhelming sickness that comes from looking at your bottom line. We'll get there. But until we do, we'll keep on going and keep on making them smile as best we know how. Lots of love, lots of play and lots of time together. After all, that's what they will remember.

"And I thought I loved you then" - Brad Paisley

Yes, I did it. I quoted a country song.

I'm sitting in Jack's hospital room, worrying. I do that most days. Either in the hospital or out, I worry. My grandmother, my father, my mother, my children, my husband...they all warrant some degree of worrying in my own mind.

I remember when I found out that I was pregnant with Jack. I don't know exactly why I had the pregnancy tests. I don't really remember buying them. Never-the-less, I am having a conversation on the phone about nothing with my sister. I take the test, continue with the conversation, and see a line slowly appear. I shook the test, turned on the light. I even looked at the box to make sure I was reading it correctly. One would think this being my 6th positive test I would have immediately known, but I was still looking for some fault in the test.

I screamed. I literally screamed on the phone and started bawling. This was not the time, not the way things needed to happen. We were in no position to add to our family. My body was not ready to do this again, three and a half months after an emergency c-section to deliver our 28 weeker.

After a lot of pacing, a lot crying and a lot of just staring, I cradled Emery in my arms and took her upstairs to our bed. She slept and I stared at the test.

I took me a very long time to settle into the idea that we would be having another one. I think by about 25 weeks all reality had found a place in different corners of my mind. I was scared to death, my body was NOT cooperating and I was surprised I was still carrying him. I was surprised my body had not already ejected the little one.

I lived in the hospital, in triage and in the doctors office. With all the doubts, the hardships, time away from the girls, bedrest and the overwhelming feeling of loneliness I was hanging onto sanity by a thread.

I wished so much that it wasn't happening, not like that. We wanted time, we needed money. But instead, what we were given was a miracle.

Jack was still just an idea, just a picture on an ultrasound, little hands and feet tapping me from the inside. I didn't let my heart embrace him for fear that I would have to let him go. We almost lost Emery and the thought of loosing a child, no matter the root of their creation, was inconceivable.

On July 23, that little idea became a small, gentle, sweet, beautiful baby boy. Early, but strong. The doctor put him on my chest and I was instantly taken. Any doubt, any dread, any fears - they all washed away in an instant. Clark and I did not have a burden that we could not handle. We had a miracle and we loved him, instantly. Notice a trend? Instant.

So here comes the song..."And I thought I loved you then".

Jack spent about 17 days in the NICU and graduated to a car seat that snapped into our car and carried him home.

The girls were thrilled, we were relieved and ready to begin our life as a family of 5. We lived that way for three days.

On the fourth day, our family was almost shattered forever. Jack had been showing some odd symptoms, was so very tired and couldn't eat. By the time I slide open the door to the van, to bring him into the doctors office and saw his face - he was blue.

Skipping the details, he was life-flighted from our small hospital to a larger one. On his first helicopter ride, his little body could not breath anymore...he had lost all strength. So the angels flying through the sky with my little man bagged him, and kept him alive until they landed.

He was intubated. He was weak. He was so very sick. In essence, he had been dying. The question at that point is which way he would go...death or life.

I, myself, was lifeless. I went through all the times that I cried because I was pregnant. It was like a nightmare replaying itself over and over again in my mind. It's like karma was coming to get me and I was so tired I didn't think I could face it. I didn't know him then, I hadn't seen him - I didn't know how much I loved him. And now, it seemed that I may not get the chance to make it up to him.

I remember trying to find a place on his body to put my lips, put my cheek...just touch him. Even that was hard.

My baby pulled through. Again, he was coming home. But for how long? I felt so blessed to feel his heart, to hear him and to kiss him.

My heart was still broken at that point though. It's like someone ripped it out, tore it to pieces and taped it back together.

...

Is she still here?

Yes, still here. Way too busy.

Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went in a flash. It seems surreal. I wish I would have written about it so that I could remember it. So much family, so much here and there, so much time - but it seemed so fast.

It was nice to see my family home in NC. My Grandmother however, is just not the Grandmother I have always known. Still the Grandmother I love, just not the same Roma Dare. The term "lady in waiting" comes to mind when I think of her. Sometimes I feel as though she is content with the paths her children have taken and also with her grandchildren and great grandchildren. She has taken great pride in watching them grow and come into their own. I guess I feel like she misses granddaddy more than ever and would, truth be told, just be in his arms again...and in the arms of God.

She tells me that she is alone, that no one stops by, her days are long...she's not complaining; just stating the facts. She's a little lacking of energy and conversation. I think she feels as though she lacks a purpose now. I can't begin to understand and frankly, I don't want to. All I know is that I love her, and that I have to tell her that I love her as much as possible. I have to tell her any stories about my children that I can think of to make her laugh. I have to love her as much as she has always loved me, no matter what. She deserves so much more than that - but from a distance, this is all I can give her.

-----

I think the kids had a good Christmas.

Our Holiday starting with my Husband's parents. I had actually not had the opportunity to partake in their annual Christmas Eve bash for more years than I remembered.

I, of course, started the day with infections in both eyes and a large corneal abrasion. Once that madness was over, the real madness began!

From the outside, their home looks like any normal home resting in the hills of any normal quiet WV suburban neighborhood. But, when all the family arrives, it transforms into it's own bustling city of noise, and controlled chaos is the heartbeat of the event. It's so neat for me to watch all the separate families mesh together like one large intimate family (which in essence is what they are). There is no unfamiliarity, just family and love in the form of many children, both big and small.

Bob made his annual speech. Once again, it was nice to be there for the real thing. I know it was special for Clark.

Presents and paper were everywhere as one would expect it to be with 12 adults and 11 grandchildren!

We ate, we laughed, we chased children. Great Christmas Eve!

----

Christmas Day.

Payton came down stairs. She hung around in the living room at first and we were curious as to what in the world she was waiting for! Payton said, "Is he still in there? Is he gone yet?". That girl. She was afraid Santa was still in the front room.

They seemed excited about their presents. Emery kind of didn't realize what was going on and Jack of course could care less. They did have a great time playing with their gifts though.

Children call...will continue catching up soon.