Baby Games

People keep commenting to me about how much hair Samson has. I'll add hair comparison to the game I already wanted to play: "Guess That Baby." So then, see if you can correctly identify each baby, and rank them according to quantity of hair (which will be subjective).

Baby #1

Baby #2

Baby #3

Baby #4

Baby #5

It's fun seeing all of my babies in a lineup like this!

February Snowstorm

Early February we got hit with a blizzard. I kept telling Samson that, although babies like to be born with the low pressure that snowstorms bring, he wasn't allowed to come out. A) There was an intense blizzard with 40-60 mile winds outside. B) It was 2.5 weeks early. C) My doctor was out of town. D) It was Groundhog Day, and we all know what that means. I did have some cramping, but no labor.

We got somewhere between 12 and 18 inches, which mostly stayed put in the front yard.

But with 40-60 mile winds from the north, the east and west sides of my yard had bare spots showing grass.

Deep snow and snowmen.

I was so glad that Shad did this with Tommy. I felt so bad that my five-year-old had never built a snowman. I've always been pregnant or nursing and thus, unable to help with winter play. Next year maybe we'll get to try sledding:)

And then this Thora picture that I forgot in other posts. During her teething phase, she went on a huge banana binge: 4-6 a day, and wanting to eat nothing else.

Life in the Past Months

Thora watching her favorite show, Super Why.

Dancy is amazing at dress-up. Always has all possible layers, plus head, neck, arm and foot accessories.

Cushion mountain!

Sister Hall got transferred. Shad told everyone to give her the finger.

Shad and the kids watching a drum line video. This inspired Thora to become a drummer. She loves drumming on the table at meal times, or on the side of the bathtub.

Pris came and stayed with us a week before Samson was born, and stayed almost a week and a half afterwards. We had her for nearly 3 weeks! It was so fun having all that time with her. She enjoyed spending time with us, helping, and also having her own bedroom to retreat to for her homework, classes and phone calls. It was so nice to just be able to leave the house after putting the kids to bed when it was time to go to the hospital. No need to have someone come over to watch the kids, or pack them up to drop them off. Just said good night and told them they would have a brother to visit in the morning. She was such a wonderful help and we look forward to the next time she decides to take a "Nana-cation." In the time that she was with us, Thora cut 5 teeth and started walking! It was a wonderful treat for Pris to experience the beginnings of her granddaughter walking, as well as to develop a relationship with this little person. Pris always drinks a green drink for breakfast, and Thora begged Pris to share a couple mornings. One day after sharing her drink with Thora, Pris asked her, "You're my drinking buddy, aren't you?" Thora responded, "Oh yeah!" Katie prayed one night: "Please help Samson to come out because...*sigh*...we're done waiting."

My four big kids visiting me and Samson at the hospital.

Miss Sundance is so beautiful!

I've decided I'll have to learn to like taking selfies so that I can actually be in pictures for my kids instead of just being the one behind the lens.

Another "Earl" picture.

Thora wanted to sweep.

Mini tootsie-roll pops for dessert.

And now, a month after Samson was born, Dancy still comes to Samson and tells him, "Oh, Samson, I'm so glad you comed out!" And she includes that in her prayers: "Thank you that baby Samson comed out." I feel the same way! I'm so glad he came out.

Samson Wiggin Kendell

Not having time to write this post has been driving me nuts for nearly a week. My baby deserves his literary debut! But with my physical healing time, cuddling a new baby time, mothering 4 other children time, and homework time, there hasn't been writing time. And there still isn't. But I'm taking it anyway.

FIRST OF ALL, let me clarify that Samson did NOT come early--I lied about my due date. Don't take it personally, but that last month of pregnancy is eternally long and uncomfortable and emotionally tumultuous without having people asking you daily, "Where's that baby?!" "Why hasn't he come yet?" "How much longer?"

Thank you, Mr. Wonka and the creator of this meme. You speak the thoughts of pregnant women everywhere.

So then, the real due date was February 20, not March 17 (St. Patrick's Day). Samson was born an agonizing four days late on February 24, at 10:43 pm. He weighed 6 lbs 11 oz, and was 20.75 inches long. Standard Kendell body type--long and skinny.

And if Thora's birth was my easiest one, Samson's was by far the most difficult. I was already so physically exhausted, I just didn't have the strength or willpower. Shad also pointed out that in all my other pregnancies I was able to be physically active, which definitely plays a part in the ease of delivery. However, this pregnancy I was barely able to move.

Recovery has been pretty smooth and easy. Lavender oil, again, deserves a lot of credit. Rubbing that on my belly and back for 2 days was enough to take away the after-birth cramps and pains, and soothe my back muscles from the intense back labor I get. Samson is doing well. He's a good sleeper, as long as he's not bothered by mass amounts of poop. We had one night where I had to stay up with him for 2 hours because he just kept pooping! But he sleeps well at night otherwise. He does have a lip-tie, so Shad and I will hopefully be cutting that today so that we can be successful with breastfeeding.

Words can never express the joy and love a mother has with her new baby; but this time for me, that statement is just as truly applied to how I feel about not being pregnant anymore. Shad has commented to me several times that I look happier than he's seen me be in 8 months. I am so unbelievably happy and grateful to be done with that torture session I had to endure. And I love this baby and his adorable, cuddly face. 

New Year, New Resolutions

Today is Chinese New Year, and begins the Year of the Monkey. But I'm in a crunch to get as much editing work done for my last class as I possibly can before I'm interrupted by giving birth, which believe me, can't come soon enough. Today has been a hellacious maelstrom of emotions. I feel broken, defeated and just plain done. Anyway, quick review, then on to 23 pages of heavy editing and rewriting someone's non-native English.

2015 Resolutions

One: Complete online classes to earn a copy editing certificate. Due to having trouble enrolling in a class, that might not get complete until next March. But my grammar lab class starts on Monday! 

Two: finish typing Shad's journals. That's actually a hefty one. I started typing Shad's illegible journals when we got engaged nearly 6 years ago. He writes almost a book a year. So far I've got 170 pages typed in Word. I used to do it maybe once a month, but now I'm typing one month a day, which averages an hour of typing. I'm hoping to complete one journal a month, except for April and July when we'll be travelling, and finish the project by November for a birthday present to him.

Report: My last class (currently ongoing) ends in March. Then I'll have my certificate and be done! The journals...yeah. I still have 3 or 4 to type, but I did finish 3.5 of them, which is still a huge accomplishment.

2016 Resolutions

One: Type 2 of Shad's journals. Overachieving and doing more is welcome.

Two: Reestablish daily journal writing for myself. I quit writing in my journal last year because this pregnancy has turned me into a miserable, cranky complainer, and I didn't want that in my journal. So not only daily journaling, but also writing of gratitude and happy thoughts. That's not to say I'll censor my real feelings, but that I'll make sure it's paired with positivity.

How are you feeling?

Can I just pregnant vent about how much I hate this question? It really does nobody any good. If I happen to be feeling good, which isn't often this pregnancy, people are almost disappointed because they expect pregnant women to be uncomfortable and miserable. And if I am uncomfortable and miserable, I don't want to talk about it all the time. I really try hard to forget that it's there.

And then if I do proceed to explain how there are days that I just want to cry in the morning when I have to get out of bed because I know it'll be the last time I'm comfortable until 10 pm that night; or that pants are a physical nightmare; or that I really just try to get through each day at a time, that even though I only have a few months left, my mind is exhausted thinking that I still have that long left to go; that I've got about an hour max of standing at a time before my back is screaming in pain, and that sitting hardly brings relief because then my body is just folded over my belly, causing an aching pressure there; that I'm 6 months pregnant and have a 14-month-old who doesn't walk and is exhausting to carry up and down stairs and is also teething, while I've also got a two-and-a-half-year-old who is potty training and holds her poop for 48 hours before letting it out somewhere and my body aches every time I have to help her; yes, even after I tell anybody any of this, nobody offers to help and I'm just left wondering if that was simply to make them feel better about themselves.

And then I hear that people have been asking other people if I'm going to have a c-section. And what about my placenta. So let's clear that up too. If that were information that I felt like sharing, with any individual, I would. That's really personal stuff about my body. I could respond and ask, so, how's your menopause going? How's your prostate? Is it in good health? Are you going to go on a diet?

But instead of being rude and socially awkward, I'm just done. I really didn't want to tell anybody about this pregnancy because I hate all the questions, and I hate that saying so just makes me sound bitchy. I'm done answering "How are you feeling?" and "When are you due?" and "How much longer do you have left?" because if you're not going to offer help, or bother to remember when I'm due, or recognize that no one knows when a baby is going to be born (okay, I know Americans love their inductions and scheduled c-sections, but that should NOT be the norm), ...whatever. I don't even know where I was going with that thought. Point is: I'm done. For the fifth time, I will tell people when there is something to tell.

Pregnancy

That lovely time in a woman's life when you put on a smile for a picture...

when this is how you truly feel. Nauseous, just want to nap all day long and for goodness sake, daughter, keep your head off my belly!

The cruel realities of dreaming that you gave birth and then wake up to find that you're still pregnant.

Zero fun sir.

I'm used to these dreams in the third semester, but it's just awful having it start in the first trimester.

And then you find out that (luck of the draw) you got a complicated pregnancy that lands you on bed rest until further notice. You can't lift, carry, bend, squat, stoop, or put pressure on your abdomen. Can't do anything with your 11 month old daughter.

(Yep, my doctor's appointment went something like that.)

And you just feel...disabled.

But then you remember that even though things are blech, "Zero fun sir," you are not allowed to do anything, and feel completely disabled, this is all leading to a wonderful final product:

So you pull on your big girl panties and suck it up.

Hmmm...Bed Rest

I really wanted to keep this one a secret. I really did. I had such happy dreams of not telling the world about this until the grand finale. But now there's been a PLOT TWIST and I feel like it's going to be such a big part of my life (or my whole life) for the foreseeable future that secrecy must be abandoned.

I'm pregnant! Due St. Patrick's Day 2016, and on bed rest (I have a marginal placenta, if that means anything to some people) since Wednesday. Until who knows when. August was such an excruciatingly long, miserable month, and I hope the rest won't be the same way.

And thus it is.