Kayliana is a month (and two days) old!! She celebrated in style yesterday. We attended Matthew’s winter concert at school (where she made several teachers ooh-and-ahh over her Christmas dress and about which Zach later made the interesting statement, “Matthew, I could HEAR you NOT singing.” Deep). We then went to her one month doctor’s appointment where she was gifted the green light to daily drink 2 ounces of prune juice to help with the, uh, “issues.” She’s pumped. Dr. Benda, whilst running through her checklist asked if Kayliana has, by chance, started smiling. I eagerly reported that just that morning – being a total genius – she seemed to discover the art of grinning and just wouldn’t stop. And I didn’t try to stop her! Dr. Benda asked about tummy time, I reported that she’s a champ and raises her head and turns it and all that cool stuff. She asked if she makes eye contact (totally). Does she kick her legs and arms? Yes. Yes. And Yes. Yet another genius Martin on our hands. And then Kayliana really pulled out all the stops and Dr. Benda – who obviously has seen plenty of kiddos and babes in her day – commented, “Wow! She’s got some seriously strong lungs. This girl’s got a loud cry!” I tried to explain that Kayli’s loud crowd is saved for moments of torture (aka nudity, every diaper change, and pooping), but Dr. Benda couldn’t hear me.

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(Warning: Detailed baby-body function discussion ahead).

I just don’t do enough bragging about my husband, and he deserves it – he’s a talented chap. So, now let me boast and rave about one of his (many, many) talents. Mike is now known around these parts as the “Fart Whisperer”. It started as the “Baby Whisperer” as he had an intuitive knowledge of what was bothering Kayliana, but he has since honed his skill even more. It doesn’t take a super genius, really, to know that most of the time gas-related issues are what plagues Kayli, but Mike really does have special skill.

At first I was a little jealous and bitter, “Why can’t I be the one who REALLY gets Kayli? The one who understands her needs?” And then I realized that with great power comes great responsibility (actually, I didn’t realize that, Peter Parker/slash/Spiderman did, but it applies here too). I pointed out to Mike that if he continued to be the one to always help Kayli work through pain, if he was always the one who could get her to sleep, then he’d have himself a full-time job! And now, like Jesus-casting-out demons (OK, not really), through the right amount of leg-bending and back-patting, Mike can call out the built-up pressure and help ease Kayliana’s pain (thus the new title of Fart Whisperer). It’s like he summons the Gas Demons and the evil pain just releases from her little toot-constipated-gas-tortured body. And we all breathe a sigh of relief (while simultaneously holding our breath).

Kayli – as I’ve said – suffers a bit from the ‘ol constipation issues. Well, the other day, we had quite the cathartic release, if you will. A few times, in one day. Let’s just say that one diaper change required a bath. Another involved about three outfit changes and then the last one was what Matthew once referred to as “creepy.” On Thanksgiving Day, while watching the Macy’s parade, Mike had decided to just change Kayliana downstairs on the floor while we watched. I’d gone upstairs for a moment when I heard Mike yelling, “Back-up! I need back-up!” I hustled downstairs to witness that Kayli was using the diaper change as the opportunity to, uh, finish her business. And there was a lot of business to finish. The business was finishing all over the fresh diaper, the changing pad, Mike, etc. Matthew – unfortunately – happened to be seated in such a way that he had a front row seat for the horror. His eyeballs were saucer-big and a look of disgusted fascination was plastered to his face. This was the diaper change that was the first of many “creepy” ones.

So, the other day, while in the middle of a “creepy” change, I required some back-up. I called to Matthew saying that I needed a few more plastic bags from under the kitchen sink to dispose of all the creepiness and could he bring them to me. Matthew called back, “What have I told you about this?! I do NOT want to hear about all that disgusting diaper business!...but I’ll bring you the bags.” Matthew bumped and stumbled down the hall and then stood in Kayli’s doorway – eyes squeezed shut AND hand plastered over them – with his other hand extended full of plastic baggery. I thanked him and he made a quick eyes-still-closed exit.

Apparently our mini-Mike does NOT take after his father in this area. But as long as Matthew keeps those plastic-bags a-comin’ I can survive the creepy changes until the Fart Whisperer comes home to work his magic.

In the last week we’ve had snow days, Thanksgiving, a photo shoot, some sleepless nights, some sleep-decent nights, Christmas decorating and lots and lots of baby-admiring, kissing and cuddling!

Kayliana is doing wonderfully. Unfortunately she does have an angry bellybutton (and an umbilical hernia which will likely heal in the next couple of years on its own), so we got some antibiotics for that. And it’s amazing how quickly conversation in a household goes back to revolving around poop and body functions (then again, with two boys, conversation never drifted too far from those topics to begin with). Kayli’s a bit constipated so every BM is like World War III and the successful outcome is parade and celebratory-worthy. Usually, we just high-five each other for getting through the crying spell and we praise Kayliana like pooping was the equivalent to curing world hunger. Sorry, TMI? That’s life with a baby, baby!

Kayli’s been a pretty darn good sleeper and twice now has gone for a SIX HOUR stretch. Both of which ended with me throwing open her door and running into her room in a panic. Why hasn’t she woken up?! She responds by grunting, squinting one eye open at me – we call this her “One-Eyed Pirate” – and clearing asking, “Why can’t a girl sleep in around here without everybody freaking out?!”

Just like all members of the Martin family, Kayliana is a true genius: she, at two weeks old, has already smiled (not gas-related, I swear!) and even squirmed and giggle-grunted when Zachary tickled her toes this morning. The fact that Zachary got Kayli’s first (sorta) laugh out of her filled this new big brother with ridiculous amounts of glee and pride.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a baby to go gaze at.

I’ve held off on writing a description of “the moment” for a good reason. (“The moment” of course is when Mia placed her daughter into our arms giving us permission to raise her as “our” daughter). Joy prepped us for this moment as best she could – “it will be surreal and emotional and difficult. You’ll never be in a room so full of mixed feelings. You’re filled with gratitude and elation; meanwhile the other people present are in deep grief. It’s tangible.” Later, when I asked Joy how our “moment” compared to the others she’s witnessed she said it was probably the fastest hand-off she’d ever seen (Mia wanted to get it over with), but it was full of the most raw emotion she’s ever witnessed.

We stood with Joy out in the hallway waiting for Mia’s counselor Alethia to tell us they were ready. As if you can ever be ready for that moment. I tried so hard to be present and yet it was a bit out-of-body at the same time. Part of why I don’t want to describe this moment is it isn’t solely mine. It is Kayliana’s. It is her birth mom’s. It was a shared moment, and I want to respect that. I’ll just say that Mia – placing Kayliana into my arms – was the most intense awe-inspiring, gut-wrenching moments I have ever – and probably will ever – experience. After exiting the room, we walked down the hall. I was crying tears of joy while her birth mom cried tears of grief. I gazed at my daughter’s face and watched as Kayliana opened her eyes and looked at me – her mom – for the very first time.

I am thankful that we’ve had biological children because it makes me so much more able to understand – to try to imagine – the painful decision that Kayliana’s young birth mom faced. How do you give up your baby? It takes a very special and strong young woman to make such a loving sacrificial choice for her child. It seems pointless to say thank you to Mia (which we have); we know it will never be enough. It seems pointless to give Mia a gift (which we will); we know it will never be enough. We will send her pictures and updates, and when she’s ready she’ll get to see us and Kayliana a few times a year. That will never be enough. I’ve heard from birth moms that they know they’ve made the right decision in choosing adoption. They never regret their decision. The days do get a little easier but that a tiny piece of their heart will always be missing.

My heart breaks for Mia even while it’s bursting with joy and love for our Kayliana. It’s an interesting feeling – this joy-grief thing.
After we got home from the hospital after that “moment,” I finally sat in the rocking chair in “Baby Girl’s” room holding Baby Girl. I had it – the (other) moment that I said I’d have when I could really believe that this was true. She is ours. I rocked Kayliana in my arms in her room, in our house, and just let the tears of joy and the sighs of relief happen. She really is here.

To say that we all fell instantly in love with her is an understatement. I’ve said this several, several times, but Matthew did really sum it up best when he said, “I like her MORE than love…like I just don’t even know the word.”

And yes, I did put the first bow on Kayliana. And yes I happened to also have one in my hair. And no, I didn’t ACTUALLY match us on purpose. (If I had I would’ve had a red one on for crying out loud)!

Definitely in the top five best days of my life...today we brought our daughter home. My cup runneth over.

We have one more day until we meet our daughter – at 12pm tomorrow we’ll be seeing her (in person) for the first time AND bringing her home! BUT we did at least get to see some pictures today! Mia sent me a text this morning asking, “Do you want to see pictures or leave it a surprise?” I QUICKLY responded: PICTURES!!! I am terrible at not peeking at Christmas presents too ” Within moments we had three pictures emailed to us. The close-up photo has absolutely seized my heart and not let go. I can’t stop looking at it and feeling an immense urge to speed to the hospital right now and repeatedly kiss those cheeks!! Soon enough, soon enough.

Kayliana – the name – has brought a few raised eyebrows and questions. I expected this, and I am more than ready to explain this BEAUTIFUL and somewhat unique name.

Mike and I wanted to come up with a name that would fit our family but also pay tribute to birth mom Mia and this beautiful multi-racial baby. So, one day we sat around brainstorming (with my dear friend Rachel present as well), we narrowed down to two names that we really like: an Irish name and a Hispanic name. We also wanted a name that wasn’t Mia but kind of in the same sound-family. (Vague, I know, but it makes sense to me). We knew that the middle name would be my mom’s: Therese. The Hispanic name, Ariana was lovely but wouldn’t work ‘cuz then she’d be ATM and people would always be asking her for money. Ariana means “gracious and merciful” or “very holy.” (Pretty loft goals, eh?) And the Irish name, Kayleigh means “One who is like God” – an even loftier goal! We threw the names around a bit and right about the time that we were all name-brainstormed out, Rachel suggested combining them into Kayliana. With the optional just Kayli working too. I loved it right away, but even throughout the evening would occasionally forget what that one name was that Rachel came up with. At bed that night I prayed about it, asking that we come up with the perfect name for this perfect baby for our family. In the morning, my first waking thought was: Kayliana. And I just knew. Also, to add extra meaning: Kaylia is the Hawaiian version of Cecilia (my Confirmation name and the Patron Saint of Music) and of course Ana is a form of Ann – my middle name and Aunt’s name. So many meanings, so perfectly fitting and beautiful if I do say so myself.

And I’d now like to address the gender thing. Yes, even though two doctors told Mia that this was a girl-baby I was pretty incredulous as we’d been told once before that we were having a girl. I would not trade my two boys for ANYTHING, but we did go into this adoption thing feeling called to add a daughter and little sister to our family. I pretty much spent the last several weeks having an internal struggle: “What if they’re wrong? What if it’s a boy? I’ve got a lot of pink this time ‘round!!” Mike reassured me daily that it was a girl. Rebecca reassured me daily that it was a girl. A LOT of people thought I was crazy for thinking maybe it wasn’t a girl. My neighbor always said, “Fingers crossed and thinking pink!” Oh, me of little faith.

Yesterday morning, I drove myself to insanity. We knew Mia was pushing and that at any moment we’d hear the news. I prayed incessantly for Mia and for Baby (too scared even at the moment to say Baby GIRL). I finally handed Mike my phone and told him to babysit it while I took a shower. I had just closed the bathroom door when I heard the ‘beep’ that would change my life.

I flew out of the bathroom yelling, “I heard it!! I heard that beep!”

Mike laughed, “Yeah, I figured that when the bathroom door banged open.”

Shaking like a leaf, I sat down on the bed next to Mike. He opened my phone and the first thing I saw was “Baby Girl Born.” I started kicking my legs, screaming, sobbing, laughing, snotting, snorting and saying “YAY, YAY, YAY, YAY, YAY!!!” all at the same time. Mike just laughed at me and grinning from ear-to-ear said, “I told you so. And so did the doctors.”

“BUT I DIDN’T BELIEVE IT!” I wailed. I didn’t believe that for once, things might actually go the really, really awesome way where the doctors are actually right. We’ve always had the motto that, if there’s a small percentage of something – we’ll be there. This was applied to: a less than 5% chance of having a reoccurrence of cancer, doctors saying there was only a 5% chance of having a boy (who totally rocks, by the way), a 10% chance that Mike would need surgery on his foot, a 2% chance that I’d go into preterm labor, etc. We are medical marvels. We are the 2-10% that make doctors have to tell you that, yes, there is small, seemingly impossible unlikely outcome. So you can understand that I needed something really big to make me believe in what doctors have to say. Well, I’m a believer. Hallelujah!

It is (literally) a dark and stormy night, but there’s nothing but sun shining on us! Cheesy? Absolutely. True? Positively. After four long days in labor, our birth mom gave birth to Kayliana Therese sometime this morning (before 10:30, but we don't have an exact time). She weighs 8.2 pounds and is 21 inches long. We don't know what she looks like yet or when we'll get to see her (hopefully tomorrow) or when we'll get to bring her home (tomorrow at the VERY earliest, probably more likely to be Wednesday or later), but we know that she is already one very well-loved little lady. Birth Mom Mia is doing well and spending some time with Kayli before she lovingly places her into our arms.

Today’s the day! About two hours ago, Joy called to inform me that – while there’s no baby yet – Mia IS five centimeters dilated. There’s finally a dim light at the end of this lengthy tunnel (even longer for Mia, I know).

So, what do you do when you know that in a matter of hours you will have a baby? (Albeit, a baby who won’t actually be in your arms, coming home with you for at least 24 hours +). I could be productive. I even toyed with the thought of getting Christmas stuff out early (something that fills me with joy and requires a fair amount of time). I don’t have any kiddos here right now since the boys are still with my parentals. It would certainly be easier to decorate with no kidlets under foot not to mention an infant to care for. But, no, I’m not doing it. I’m not being productive at all. I should use the time to go to the gym, to read a book, I should WRITE a book, for crying out loud. But instead, I’m doing something rare for me. (Obviously, right now, I’m doing this…). I’m RELAXING. I’m RESTING. I’m in a place of peace and calm and contentment. I’m sitting cuddled under my favorite blanket. I’ve finished my coffee am now drinking water and in a bit may have some hot cocoa complete with mini-marshmallows. I sat and peeled and ate two Satsuma oranges thinking about how our lives are about to change and how incredibly hard but worthwhile this journey has been. I’m having moments of deep thought, reflection and prayer but mostly I’m just sitting. And it’s wonderful.

Mike was up VERY late (as in wee hours, as in he came to bed at the time when I get out of bed for my early morning jogs). He’s had deadline after deadline and work has been crazier than ever. Deadline number 2 is, of course, tomorrow. He has two more deadlines and will be done with most of the madness by December 8th. He’s a working madman and he is exhausted. So, thankfully – because there are no offspring here and nothing that HAS to be done – he is sleeping. And if he goes for one more hour, he’ll actually get eight hours! Scratch that, I just heard movement. He got 7 hours.

So, here we are, on the day of the birth of our third child. We sleep. We rest. We wait.

I don’t really know how to begin describing the last 48 hours, no wait 24 hours, no I’m not even sure how long it’s been. It feels like two weeks. What day is it? Where am I?! Anyway…still no baby. This is possibly the longest, slowest, most full of false-alarms labor that I’ve ever-never had ever. Does that make sense? Excuse me if I’m a bit tired. While I admit I’m obviously not the one going through the physical (or even the most of the emotional) fatigue here, this labor is EXHAUSTING. It’s the waiting, the not knowing that is excruciating. The weekend’s been full of highs and lows though mostly more highs than lows and thankfully God’s grace is with me and I’ve even handled the lows “fairly well” (according to Mike). I honestly don’t know if I can even remember the events, but I’ll try. It started Friday late morning with an ominous text from Mia that her blood pressure was high, things weren’t looking so good and baby was not responding. (I had NO IDEA what that meant). Then I was told that they were inducing her with Pitocin at 1pm on Friday afternoon, then told Friday evening that she was induced and in active labor (waited all night for news, heard nothing), Saturday morning found out that Mia had not actually been induced with Pitocin but more docile stuff. Then told she’d be induced at 10am. Then told maybe not until 6pm then told maybe not until 10pm. (All the while, we think that she HAD been induced at the predicted hour, so we’re FINALLY thinking labor is underway only to find out nothing’s happened). November 12th bday? Nope. November 13th bday? Looking like nope. November 14th bday? We can hope!!

Turns out, we’re possibly having a baby tomorrow. Joy called on Wednesday to let us know that Mia will very likely be induced tomorrow…I don’t know what time, I don’t know why, I don’t know when we’ll actually get to see Baby, I just know that we made it to 38 weeks (woohoo!) and as Joy said, we should prepare for a possibly “confusing and chaotic time at the hospital this weekend.” (Meaning, emotions will be running high for us and obviously for our birth mom and her family and really, anything can happen. This is terrifying and exciting. It’s terrixciting. It’s excifying). At the earliest, Baby will be coming home with us on Sunday!!

Ever since I got the news, I’ve been a nesting fool. I’ve never been able to nest before. Matthew came five weeks early and being in the hospital for 7 weeks pre-Zachary obviously didn’t provide the opportunity either. I must say that knowing approximately-exactly when a baby is coming is definite motivation for major productivity. I’ve actually made meals ahead of time to freeze! I’ve done tons of laundry and the cleaning – man, the cleaning! Today, I touched up the master bathroom paint and every floor and counter in the house was vacuumed, scrubbed, and rubbed. When I was in the middle of cleaning-craziness I asked Zachary to pick his toys up off of the floor lest the vacuum consume them. He put his hands on hips and in a dramatic stage voice said, “Mom, how DARE you command us to do all of the cleaning here!” Um, hmmm. Ungrateful little stinker (who is way too cheeky and cute for his own good).

This afternoon, I took the boys to Build-a-Bear. This had been Matthew’s very special “new big brother” activity when Zachary was born, so we decided that since Zach will soon accept this title, he, too, would get to build a friend (and Matthew would get to pick out a new outfit for his). We had such a fun time! Matthew picked an army outfit for his bear (extra appropriate as it’s Veteran’s Day) and Zachary made a puppy, picked a Batman outfit and named him “Batdog.” The boys also get to do a couple of fun things tomorrow before I take them for sleepovers at my Mom & Dad’s. Matthew had been invited to a birthday party for this Saturday. Well, with the news that we’ll be in the middle of having a baby, going back and forth to the hospital, and who-knows-what-all will go down, I mean-mommily decided that it would be a lot easier for Matthew to just skip the party and be in the care of the grandparents. When I broke the (bad) news to Matthew that he’d have to miss Mick’s party because of the (good!) news that Baby Sister would be born he was…uh…dev.a.stated. To put it mildly.

Matthew has claimed for quite some time that adopting a baby girl was all his idea and he has taken much pride in announcing this to many. Well, when he found out that the birth of Baby Sister would seriously cramp his party-going style, he quickly said, “I change my idea.” Well, THIS idea of changing HIS idea of adopting Baby Sister was quickly shot down and I told him I’d try to arrange for a special playdate with Mick in lieu of attending his birthday party. Mick’s mom, my neighbor/friend Julie was so excited about the baby news that she readily offered to bring Matthew along for their family birthday outing tomorrow – to go to a movie and ice cream. So Zachary and are going to go to the Seattle Childrens’ Museum which he is THRILLED about. All of this, while I clutch my cellphone in my hand and pretend that I can think about things non-baby related.

Yep, still babyless. But at least we’ve made it to full term plus some! And we had a wonderful weekend of the perfect combo – fun and productive. I sorted through baby girl clothes, we finished our master bathroom makeover, finished the new tool shed (will need to supply pics soon, eh?), I got a hand-me-down sewing machine (that I’ll have to learn how to use), took the boys to a bowling (their first time ever!) birthday party, I went out for a girls’ night, I went for a run in the sun, cut the grass, the boys rode bikes and did Thanksgiving-themed sidewalk chalk art, we took the boys to lunch and a movie (MegaMind – cute), we went to Target and I bought potential Halloween costumes for the boys (or just dress-up clothes) for $1.20 each (90% off!!!), took Matthew to Faith Formation and then we all went to church. Seriously, could we ‘fall back’ every weekend?! I feel like just getting that extra hour practically added a day!

Last Thursday when we got home from school, it wasn’t rainy – woohoo! So I announced that we needed to go outside for a bit to play. Matthew quickly disappeared into his room. I thought he was changing into his “outside clothes” (a pair of holey jeans that are so broken in and well-loved, I think he farted too hard they’d fall apart into a pile of denim thread on the floor). Matthew came out with an orange sheet of construction paper tucked under his arm and a small pile of stuff that he was carrying on a shoe box lid.

“Mom! I’m going to have a sale to make money!” He announced happily. He dumped everything on to the floor in order to show me the items he planned to sell: Four Lego magazines (that came for free in the mail), two broken squirt guns, a 2010 Transformer calendar, a pair of sunglasses (received for free at the Church carnival), and a Shrek watch from McDonalds. He happily admired his wares as he handed me his price list. It says the following: “Guns are 1 Dollars woth [worth], LeGos MoGusens [magazines] are 2 Dollars, Wock [watch] is E [3] Dollars, cainDr [calendar] is 4 Dollars, Sungasis [sunglasses] are 5 Dollars.”


“Um, k,” I said. I didn’t want to shoot down his entrepreneurial dreams yet I knew that only a crazy (or freakishly nice) person would actually buy this stuff.

When we got outside, Matthew snagged a step-stool from the garage on which to display his merchandise. Then, he explained to Zach that his role was to flag down potential customers – Zachary did this by dancing up down the street in front of our house waving a neon orange flag. (This – all for the entertainment of…no one other than myself). After a while, Matthew got frustrated and asked me where everyone was and why no one was coming to his sale. I explained that – seeing as I’d just learned about his yard sale right before ‘opening’ – the issue could’ve been in the lack of advertising and promotion.

After a bit, we’d had all of one car drive by and one young man out for a run (who didn’t even look at the boys let alone admire the merchandise for sale). Right when I thought Matthew would start to get very frustrated I saw a mom approaching on a walk with her probably four-year-old daughter. Oh no.

Zachary started jumping up and down waving his flag like the-checkered flag-waver at the end of a car race. He pranced towards them waving his flag yelling, “You wanna come to our sale? My brother’s having a sale!” Matthew stood there quietly; with his arms behind his back like a serious and focused salesman. Head in the game.

The mom and girl stopped to admire Matthew’s goods. Matthew started into his quiet shpeal: “I’ve got Lego Magazines and a Shrek watch and squirt guns…” The mom looked at me and I smiled sheepishly torn between the two truths of the moment: I don’t want to destroy my sensitive kid and ruin his good mood and his brave go-get-‘em attitude, but I also don’t want people to feel obligated to buy random junk (at quite steep prices!) from my child.

The mom smiled kindly at Matthew and said, “Oh, what a bummer, I don’t have any cash with me.”

Well, unfortunately, this is a statement that the boys hear from me often. Any time they desire some small (or large) item I’m able to play the “I don’t have any money with me” card. Which, sadly, Matthew has also asked about and now understands that mommy rarely carries actual dollars but those plastic cards in her wallet are kinda like money.

I could see where this was going when Matthew said, “Well do you have any --- ”

I cut him off quickly and said, “Oh, that’s OK. We don’t accept credit cards, Matthew.” Matthew smiled glumly at the mom and girl and waved them off. (You’re no good to me with your lack of dollars.)

Upon sensing defeat, Matthew came over to the vegetable garden where I was pulling dead plants out of the weed-infested beds.

“I know!” Matthew said brightly. “I bet Chuck and Kim have money!” (Referring to our wonderful next door neighbors to the north).

“Um, well, Matthew, that’s not polite to say. It’s not OK to just go to people saying, basically ‘give me your money, I know you have some.”

Matthew turned away sadly and headed back to man his sale. A little bit later, Matthew came back and asked me quietly, “So, how COULD you ask someone…like not for their money but…” I could see where this was going and as we’ve been working on building his self-confidence I figured this could be a really good teachable moment. I was proud of him for not giving up. Any other day, he would’ve been quick to dissolve into frustrated tears.

“Oh!” I said, removing my gardening gloves. “What you can do is invite people to come to your sale. You can just nicely invite them saying ‘Hey, I don’t know if you’re interested, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m having a yard sale, so ya know, if you want to come by…’”

Matthew was practically sprinting across the yard before I could finish.

Zach beat us to Chuck and Kim’s front door where – unfortunately – I realized the little punk had already rung the doorbell repeatedly for several seconds.

“Zachary!” I chastised. “That is SO rude. If Kim is home you better apologize as soon as she opens the door.” And then much to my chagrin, the door opens and there stands poor Kim looking like HELL.

Zach – bless him – VERY quickly said “Sorry for ringing your doorbell lots of times.”

“Oh, that’s OK,” she said weakly, “It just took me a while to get to the door. I was downstairs on the couch watching TV. I’m sick.”

Oh geez. Oh great. “I’m so sorry!” I say, feeling more and more embarrassed that not only did we disturb her but she’s sick AND now Matthew is kinda going to ask that she buy broken crap from him.

Kim waves me off like ‘no big deal, don’t worry about it’ as she starts coughing like crazy into her elbow. “Chuck’s out of town for work, which I suppose is good ‘cuz I’m no fun to be around. The doctor thinks I probably have pneumonia.” Oh excellent. We disturbed my neighbor. Who is sick. And taking care of herself. And has pneumonia. And we rang her doorbell an obnoxious amount of times. And we’re asking for money. Awesome. We’re like the best next door neighbors. Ever.

“What’s up guys?” she asks weakly, smiling at the boys.

Matthew – visibly mustering up braveness – steps forward slightly and says, “I’m having a yard sale.”

“Oh!” Kim says looking over at me. I – standing behind Matthew – shrug my shoulders like ‘Uh, yeah, I don’t really know what to about this’ but I also shake my head like ‘No, seriously, do NOT feel obligated to humor this.’

“Well, I would definitely come over but I’m pretty sick and I don’t want to spread my germs,” she says. I give her a thumb’s up to her…sickness…as a perfect excuse.

“How long is your sale going on?” She asks Matthew seriously. He looks at me.

“Well, I don’t know since I just found out about it a few minutes before it began today, but I’m sure we could do it another day. And maybe that day Kim will feel better and she could stop by.”

Kim nods seriously, “Matthew, if I’m better the next time you have your sale I will definitely come over. Maybe I can find some toys for my grandkids.”

Matthew smiles, “I’ve got squirt guns!”

“Annnd, maybe before our next sale, we could find some more toys to add,” I say. Like ones that work and aren’t ghetto and broken.

Kim asks if we have any baby news – none. We tell her to rest and feel better. She wishes Matthew luck with the sale which – as soon as we get back – he decides is done for the day and he packs up. Closing time. Thankfully, Matthew doesn’t seem at all disappointed that he had no sales. He talks about all the stuff they could sell next time.

Meanwhile, I make a mental list of items to purchase (not from Matthew) to put together a get-well basket for Kim. We deliver it the next day. Making sure to only ring the doorbell one time.

This will be a brief (but accurate) update for the non-facebookies or those seeking more detail.

So, on Friday, I went to an appointment with Mia (who was then at 36 weeks, 1 day). When I got there I found out that her blood pressure was really high and they were a bit concerned, so they sent us to the hospital so that she could be “observed for the next 24 hours…or have a baby.” When they checked her BP upon arrival at the hospital it was perfectly normal and good, so they discussed discharging her…then she mentioned that she had lower back pain and cramping. Right, those would be contractions, and sure enough they started to pick up on the monitor. So, then it looked like she wouldn’t be going home. I had to leave after an hour to go do music for Matthew’s class Harvest Party; Mia promised to keep me posted.

At 7:30pm, I received a text message (Mia’s fave form of communication) saying that she was going home. Then, two hours later I got another saying, “Actually, I’m staying for now.” We went to bed wondering if we’d actually have an October baby rather than a November one. However, Saturday morning at 8am I received a “Annnnd, now I’m goin’ home” message. OK.

Then tonight I received, “Back in the hospital, will give you updates.” To which I responded, “Like baby’s comin’?” To which she responded, “Like induction.” (Isn’t text message correspondence riveting?!). So, we scrambled like mad, got the boys bathed, fed, and rushed up to my parents’ for the night only to receive this message: “I get to go home” and “nope” to my question of the induction actually happening. I’m confused and I obviously don’t have all the details. She was evidently feeling something at home – enough to take her to the hospital and enough for them to say “Yeah, let’s get this baby outta there” but then they changed their minds…?! Why? Anyway, Thursday will be 37 weeks and ‘officially’ full-term and it really WOULD be nice to follow the baby-baking rules for once and not always be jumping the gun and doing the early baby thing! At least we know that Baby Girl is already a week and at least a pound over where we got with either of the boys.

Halloween was great, by the way. We went to the BEST party and had a lot of fun trick-or-treating. Check out our cuteness!

Shocker: I’m stressed. This whole last-four-weeks ‘til adoption due date thing is a little more stressful than exciting. Don’t get me wrong, I’m VERY excited and EAGER for this all to happen, but it’s SO out of my hands (which, yes, so is pregnancy)…and I’m dealing with the stress by eating for two! This is not good. I don’t actually HAVE two to eat for. And I have a prom dress to fit into this weekend (for Halloween). I repeat: this is not good.

Last week, I found out some news that really bummed me out. Maybe I’m just way too optimistic about how this whole thing will go down, but I really thought that it would play like this: Mia would text us (or tell her counselor who would tell Joy who would tell us) that she’d gone into labor. We’d maybe even do the whole middle-of-the-night thing and call a neighbor to stay at the house until my parents could come. Mike and I would rush off to the hospital and pace in the waiting room eagerly anticipating the moment when a nurse comes out and says, “Come meet your daughter!” And then we’d even get to stay in a room with Baby Girl because everyone knows that those first few hours are extra delightful for bonding. That’s how it went down in my head.

Like most thoughts in my brain, that’s not reality as it turns out. Originally, Mia’s birth plan was that she wouldn’t hold the baby at all (knowing that that would make things harder), well, that’s changed and I really can’t blame her. Now, we won’t get to go to the hospital until a good while AFTER baby is born and Mia has had a chance to have some one-on-one time with the baby. I TOTALLY understand this, it just, ya know, will make the wait a little longer which, ya know, is a little – a lot – hard. So, we’ll get a call that Mia is in labor and then probably have to wait a full 24 hours until we get the call saying, “OK, she’s here! NOW, you can come to the hospital and meet your daughter now.” That’ll be a LONG 24 hours. (But obviously a lot longer for Mia, I’m sure).

This is such a balance – it’s a balance between getting too excited but also keeping a guarded heart. It’s a balance between thinking that I AM important in this equation and knowing that, right now, it is – and should be – primarily about the birth mother. It’s a balance between being excited that I’m not the one to go through labor and nursing and yet aching with the lack of physical connection that I will have with this newborn and wishing that I could be the one to do those things. It’s a balance and balance has always been a challenge for me.

Zachary is a little sponge. Half the time he says something I’m flabbergasted with his vocabulary…or his sense of humor and skill for irony.

Two days ago in the car he randomly stated, “Here is my hypothesis: It will rain soon and there might be thunder.” When I asked him where he learned about what a hypothesis is, he reported that he received that knowledge from the PBS show “Dinosaur Train” – which he hadn’t actually watched in several days. He was just held on to that big word and waited for the best opportunity to use it.

Yesterday’s commentary was a bit more random (again in the car), “Mom, did you know that there’s only one pencil in Pennsylvania?....And it’s a MAGIC pencil!” Um, ok.

And Matthew did a funny one the other day. We were outside doing sidewalk chalk in the driveway and on the street when a woman walked by with a little dog – it was cute, probably part Pug, part Shih Tzu. A Pugzu? A Shug? Anyway, the woman had stopped so that Zach and said-dog could inspect each other when Matthew says, “Your dog has a gorilla face!”

I was a bit mortified as I figured that this little creature was the woman’s furry baby, but she just laughed. When I lightly scolded Matthew, he quickly saved himself by saying, “No! Gorillas have cute faces!!”

It’s post-National EE Convention, pre-baby, but I swear I’m not just sitting around eating bon-bons. I’ve demolished our master bathroom which has snowballed into a reorganization of every drawer and closet in the upstairs. Our bedroom currently looks like it was dumped upon by the random-innards-of-bathroom-drawers monster. There is stuff everywhere. Baby Girl’s bedroom floor is currently mountained (well, that SHOULD be a verb ‘cuz you know exactly what I mean) with all-things baby that I’m slowly starting to retrieve from boxes tucked away. Zachary thinks that putting little teeny-tiny baby socks on his fingers is pretty much the funniest thing ever. He has LOVED seeing some of the little outfits that he and Matthew wore as newborns. The clothes look SO tiny and yet are ginormous when I lay them out next to the preemie outfits that Zach once sported which ba-lows the mind.

Anyway, my master bathroom is soon to become my personal spa and sanctuary. Our master bathroom has a tiny little shower stall, so tiny in fact that we’ve only used it twice in the eight years that we’ve lived here, opting instead to just use the shower-tub in the main bathroom off the hallway. (The master shower water literally hits Mike in the bellybutton because the shower head is so low and I’m fairly certain that he can hardly turn around in there). So, I’m repainting the whole thing (walls, cupboard, vanity), getting a new light fixture, a shower head extension and new head, installing a shelf above the shower (so there’s actually a place to hold shampoos etc.), and I’m moving all of my bathroom necessities into the drawers and cupboard – I’m marking my territory with shampoos, lotions, perfume and make-up and making the place my own. (Mike will still be ‘allowed’ to shave, take in and out his contacts and brush his teeth in this bathroom, but the real sanctuary-ness of it will be solely mine).

This is called nesting. This is called needing a project to keep my mind off the fact that in 5 ½ weeks (or less-ish or more-ish) we will hopefully be having a baby girl. This is called Jenny-is-internally-freaking-out-and-needs-some-serious-distraction.

Good news from Joy (social worker): because of Baby’s Native American heritage, they had to send letters to 27 local tribes. See, the tribes, COULD get involved if they decided that they didn’t want a Native American baby raised by white folk like us. Thankfully, 26 of the 27 tribes have already responded saying that Baby Girl is unenrollable (because she’s such a small percent Native American and her roots are tricky to trace anyway). This process could have really slowed down the legal steps of moving towards finalizing the adoption, but it looks like it won’t be a problem.

I’ve actually just recently emailed with Birth Mom Mia, and I have to say that – while trying not to be ignorant and TOO clad in rose-colored glasses – I stinkin’ adore this girl. We really could not have been blessed with a more wonderful pregnant lady. And she seems pretty darn pro-us too. I can only imagine how she is feeling as these last weeks of pregnancy wrap up. She only has a few more weeks of being the sole ‘parent’ to this little child and then she will hand her over to practically-strangers, but strangers that she picked for this purpose. I can only imagine. Please keep Mia in your thoughts and prayers as we inch towards our due date.

Annnnnnd, we’re back! Thank you for holding. The 2010 National Engaged Encounter Convention was a HUGE success (as I – one of the co-chairs – so very humbly say). We lived at the hotel for a week, we scrambled at the last moment to get a last minute fill-in presenter, we hosted a party for 450 people (and didn’t get in trouble with the hotel!), we ignored our children for the last couple of weeks – OK, or years – and we successfully “Rebooted” (the theme was “Reboot your Relationship”) all attendees. It was such a party that I even got a babysitter for the boys so that my parents could have a night off and join us (I know – aren’t I kind?). They were having such a good time I had to call the sitter to see if I could extend their curfew (now, that’s a role reversal)! The whole thing was awesome. Wonderful. And now it’s done – thank God!

The boys had a great time hanging out with my parents while they’re parents partied – er, worked – at the hotel. Zach spent one afternoon at my friend Andrea’s house where he (don’t pass this around too much) secretly, thoroughly enjoyed playing with Shay’s and Brooke’s Barbies. He loved it but was quite distraught and frustrated at one point. He’d been playing quietly with the dolls – er, action figures – in Brooke’s room while Andrea and Brian – who works from home – were on computers in their family room. All of a sudden, Zach – having stealthily tip-toed down the hall – jumps into the room and shouts, “BOOO!!! Did I scare ya?!” He then went on to ask Andrea for assistance.

“I’ve tried every single one of these hairbrushes and I CANNOT get the tangles out of this Barbie’s hair!” Andrea reported later that she and Brian had a hard time showing sharing Zach’s s amount of concern as they were so distracted by his cuteness and focus on the problem. It’s true – his cuteness can be quite distracting.

Anyway, we’re settling back into ‘normal, quiet’ life – the kind of ‘normal’ where we scramble to wrap up Nat’l Convention loose-ends so we can hand it over to the next suckers – I mean, Convention Coordinators (Boston, 2012). Our ‘normal’ life is surprising with the occasional kid falling in the closet laundry basket and the backyard being visited by three deer!! We also have quite a few big house projects we’d like to do. Then there are the doctor and dentist appointments that we’ve been putting off and then there’s this whole baby thing that’s happening in about a month and a half!!! Right! That’s our normal quiet life, alright!