Bright Eyes

So much life has happened 'round these parts lately.  Lots of holiday happenings, book reading, play dough playing, and even some sleeping.  Blogging, however, has not been happening.  It'll come though, in due time.  I had to quickly document this little love though.  Santa brought him a brand new high chair, allowing him to sit with us at the dinner table (instead of on the dinner table in his bouncy seat like the tastiest little entree you ever saw).  He sits and smiles at each of his family members in turn.  He also got a bead maze that suctions onto his tray and today he started reaching for it with intense concentration.  He's a little wonder.  

Christmas Day

 I love being the mom at Christmastime.  I love planning and sneaking and anticipating happy faces on Christmas morning.  This year was wonderful.  The boys loved choosing gifts for one another, opening presents and spending the day playing.  We had church this year which allowed us to enjoy the day with our wonderful ward members as well. 

 

 

 

Isaac was terribly funny during gift opening.  Everything was exactly what he wanted and he keep exclaiming, "I can't believe I got (fill in the blank."  While opening these cars he jumped up and yelled, "I like it!" 

Christmas Eve Eve

Parenting through the rough patches

I sometimes think find myself feeling smug, like such an experienced parent with all the answers.  Then I realize that, really, I am just getting started and that each phase is like starting over in so many ways and I have so far to go and so much more to learn.  Parenting, I am convinced, is the best way to humble a person.  

I am sitting in bed next to a sleeping Luke after a week of parenting four (very active) little boys while my husband logged 55 hours at his primary job and a least another dozen teaching and preparing for the night classes he has been teaching.  I have decided that I can consider it a success that all the kids are still alive, mostly thriving and that I have managed to keep the house standing.  The dog is also still alive.  I have been at this long enough to know that there are patches of parenting and family life that are just about survival.

I am grateful, as I go through this transition,  for the lessons that I learned during the first (rough) transition from one to two children.  Luke was a hard, hard two and a half year old, full of unchanelled energy and very quick to challenge my authority as his mother.  Noah was a delight of a baby until about six p.m. at which point he fussed and whined and nursed until he finally settled down to sleep late in the evening.  I had yet to learn some very important parenting lessons, the first being that nearly everything is a phase.  All I saw at the time were endless days of constant demands and needs with no way to meet them all.  I also hadn't learned that one shouldn't assign much meaning to a two year old's behavior.  Chances are you don't have a brat-- you just have a two year old.  I was also under the (mistaken) impression that parenting was neat and tidy like some sort of a math equation and that if I, as the parent, added a+b it would result in c, the desired behavior.  I was convinced that all those other parents were just doing it wrong.  I had read all the books, had a degree in education and many years of working with children under my belt.  There was a right way to do it and I knew what it was.  Then Luke happened and I saw just how wrong I was.

I vividly remember laying in bed with Luke while he fell asleep at night.  He would only fall asleep if I let him twirl my hair for hours on end.  I would lay there nursing Noah while Luke played with my hair and I would pray and pray for the strength to get through the next day.  I read parenting book after parenting book looking for answers and 

That first time around I was impressed to set clearer boundaries, carve out time to take care of myself, and let go a little bit more.  This time around I think the answer is to find more time to connect. 

Two months old

He's just as shocked as I am...

Three Years

Little I-guy turned three yesterday and in the midst of all the meals, laundry, diapers and nursing I tried to pause and remember these three years and contemplate this little man.  My water broke while I was mid-laugh at book club.  He came quickly and easily and stole my heart.  He was a beautiful newborn and, while resembling his brothers, surprised us with his full head of dark hair and unique characteristics.  He was beloved by his brothers and adored by his parents and the recipient of LOTS of attention.  He was a delightful little newborn. 

 

 

He remained the most popular member of our family throughout that first year as he learned to sleep through the night early, babble and coo at his family members, and delight everyone with his ever-present smile.  He rolled over, crawled and walked right when his brothers had achieved these milestones.  He won over everyone with his sweet, social manner.  I watched his eyes change as he turned into my first brown-eyed boy and felt that, at last, I had one who bore some resemblance to me. 

Two year old Isaac continued to charm.  His independence and sense of self both delighted and frustrated us as we learned to navigate his little personality.  He learned to converse and made us all laugh constantly.  He and Noah formed a deep friendship and lived in a world of their own with LEGOS, dress up and plenty of pretend play.  He wore his Spider Man costume for nearly four months straight.  He learned his letters, what they say and that Isaac is spelled I-S-A-A-C.  His also learned to love his baby brother and what it meant to share the spotlight.  

We can't wait to see what this next year will bring.  He is a delight.

More Halloween

Smitten

I am pretty in love with this little guy.  Each baby boy surprises me with his ability to steal my heart.  Little H is no exception and I might even enjoy him more than I did the others because with each one I know how to love just a little more and stress a little less.  This mothering thing just gets better and better.  (Also, it's harder and harder as it demands more and more from me and allows less and less selfishness-- but that's a good thing too.)  Oh, I love this little one and what he's done for our family already. 
  

Hyrum, one month

Here is little Hyrum, at one month wearing the outfit that Luke came home from the hospital in seven and a half years ago.  It seems about right as he probably weighs as much now as Luke did when he was born. 

One month, really?  It's the old cliche-- the time has gone by so quickly but we can't remember life without him.

Life has been chugging along 'round these parts and I wanted to capture little H at this age before I forget.

He is:

• the most engaged of all my babies.  They were all interested in faces and people but Hyrum will crane his neck around from whatever position he is in to stare at my face.  He looks and looks without blinking.  I love this about him 
• starting to sleep, eat and stay awake in more predictable patterns.  He nurses for the last time around ten p.m. and then usually doesn't wake to eat until about two in the morning.  He then lasts until an early morning feeding and sleeps later than the other boys in the morning.  He is alert in the evening and engaged in our bedtime routine.  
• the center of attention in the neighborhood.  I have a couple of little girl baby holders that come by as often as their moms will allow them.  They will sit and hold Hyrum for long lengths of time, allowing me to get dinner on the table, read to Isaac or pick a few things up around the house. 
• enjoying sleeping with his little blankie up by his face.  Another required baby skill in our house is learning to love your blanket. 
• the loudest sleeper ever.  There are nights when I am sure that I really gave birth to a little goat, judging from the sounds coming from the bassinet.  This distinction has earned him a spot in the walk-in closet-- it makes him easy to get to in the night but the clothes muffle the grunts enough to allow me to sleep through them. 
• loving his swing. 
• learning to love his pacifier.  It is a rule in our house-- all babies must learn to love their binkies.  I learned this lesson the hard way with Luke, who never took one and nearly drove me crazy.  
• loving his miracle blanket.  I love looking in at my little burrito baby, sleeping soundly.  
• gassy.  
• plumping up well.  He is now sporting the beginnings of delightful rolls on his arms and little thighs.  
• a great nurser.  He would stay latched on all day if I let him.  
• interested in his brothers. 
• loving bath time.   
• accustomed to sleeping through a lot of noise like any good fourth child.  Let's hope he keeps this up.   
• almost identical to his brother Noah as a newborn.  It will be fun to see what this little guy looks like in a few months.  

We sure love our little Hyrum.  

Blessing Day

 Our little Hyrum was blessed the Sunday before Halloween.  His uncles, dad and grandfathers gathered around him to give him a name and a blessing.  It was a celebration, to be sure.  Moments like these always make me wish that I were more articulate and somehow able to capture in words the sweetness of these occasions.  It's a beautiful thing to watch your baby boy blessed by his righteous father and male relatives.  I hope that he (and his brothers) will follow the examples of these good, good men who exemplify the priesthood they hold. 


(We had good intentions of inviting more family and friends but October happened to be the busiest month of our lives and we went and had a baby.  It was all I could do to stay afloat with my husband working nearly all the time.)


The men (minus Caleb-- for some reason he didn't make it into the pictures and I didn't notice until I was looking at them on the computer): 

The whole family:

The Fredins:

The Donaldsons:

November 1st

There are more Halloween pictures to sort through and blog but here's a peek at our pack of superheroes, including baby superman-- who has thrown our lives into chaos and created this blogging back log. 

We are all still pretty smitten and I routinely catch his brothers kissing on his velvet little head or just staring at him.

Happy November!

Hyrum meets the crew

Hyrum joined a family of baby lovers-- all the boys love to hold him.  His big brothers were all anxious to meet him and hold him.  Noah showed the least interest at the hospital but has more than made up for it since. 

 

After all the boys had their turn holding him they wanted to see the rest of him.  They were adorable with their observations about how cute and small all his little parts were. 

                                         

Hyrum's Birth

This is the first of an onslaught of posts with way too many pictures of little Hyrum. There-- you have been warned. Also, this post will contain references to my cervix.

Last Friday afternoon I started having a strange sensation that felt a little like my water was breaking/leaking. My mom was up and thought it best to go in and have things checked out. When I got there the ph test was inconclusive but the nurse thought that my bag of waters was probably still intact. I was having contractions off and on but they weren't really getting regular. That said, when she checked me I was informed that my cervix was very favorable, I was dilated to five centimeters and 90% effaced. My midwife was there delivering another baby and came in to talk to me. She suggested that we go ahead and break my water as I was clearly close and she didn't want to send me home and then have me turn around and have to come back in a few hours. I agreed and called Nat, who was on his way to down to Provo to attend the BYU Chemical Engineering homecoming dinner. He turned around, grabbed a quick dinner on the road and met me at the hospital.  While I waited I got all the admitting things taken care of, was monitored and snacked on juice and crackers.  My mom went home to get my kids in their pajamas and tucked into bed.  

Once Nat was there my midwife broke my water and found that the baby had already passed meconium, which was a little worrisome. It is much more common for a baby who is past his due date to pass meconium. Contractions started shortly after she broke my water. About a half an hour later I was having serious contractions every two minutes and each one lasted a minute to a minute and a half. At this point my mom and sisters arrived at the hospital (having left my kids in the care of my sweet neighbor, Heather). I was still able to talk and joke between contractions. The hospital wanted about twenty minutes of monitoring to make sure the baby was tolerating labor well. I sat on the exercise ball while I was strapped to the monitors. During those twenty minutes I could really feel the contractions getting more and more intense. I sent Nat in to fill the tub so I could get in as soon as I was done with the monitors.

My wonderful nurse, Carolyn-- who had delivered four babies of her own without medication, came in to take me off the monitors and check me. I was at a solid six and went in to get in the tub. At that point, things were serious. I knew that I was entering the hardest part of labor. I always feel like 6-8 centimeters are the hardest earned. My mom and sisters stayed in the room and Nat and I were alone in the bathroom. I had entered the quiet time of labor, where I draw in and can only think about the next contraction and working with my body to relax instead of fighting it. The water was helpful and I was able to rest between each contraction and get ready for the next one. These were the most intense contractions.

Then it happened-- I hit the wall. I wanted it to be over, I wanted someone else to do it for me, I wanted to be doing anything other than laboring. I was ready to cry uncle. I got really quiet and pulled in even more.  This lasted through five or six contractions. I should have remembered that this feeling almost always means that transition is almost over and the end is near.  I felt like it was too fast and I couldn't possibly be as close as I felt I was.  Nat later told me that he knew I must be close when I started to feel this way.    

Then the intensity was over and I felt the clarity that comes with after transition and before pushing. My midwife came in at this point and I left the water to get checked. I was at an eight. She thought that I would be complete in about five more contractions-- she was completely right.  I leaned on the bed and rocked through these last contractions.  There was more time in between each contraction and they felt rhythmic and manageable.  

Then it was time to push. I got into position and he was out in about three pushes.  The whole thing was about two hours start to finish. 

Because of the meconium, he had to go right over to get checked and I wasn't able to hold him right away. He screamed well and looked wonderful (Apgar scores of 8 and 9-- for any labor and delivery nerds like me), meaning that he hadn't aspirated any meconium and was breathing well. He was wrapped up and everyone else held him while the midwife took care of me.

When he was finally handed over to me I just melted at the sight of my newest baby boy. There was something so familiar about him-- he looked like a combination of all the other boys but the most like Noah, complete with long fingers and nails.  Ashley was the designated photographer and caught some really sweet moments.

When I picture arriving in heaven I imagine it feeling something like holding your baby for the first time.  The relief that labor is over and the joy at meeting this new little person is indescribable.  It's a moment I would like to experience again and again.  

I have had four nearly perfect deliveries (that's not to say they haven't been hard, just that things have gone along nicely).  This is something I feel deeply grateful for, knowing it's a blessing to have things work so well.  It was a blessing to share this one with my mom and sisters as well. 

I love, love, love the look of a newborn fresh from the womb.  I love the moist skin, swollen eyes, and misshapen noses.  Hyrum was pretty perfect, having not lingered long in the birth canal.  He remained in that magical state of quiet alert for a couple of hours after birth.