Late Night Ramblings

I have no business being up this late. None whatsoever. But it is the last night of the week before the master comes home, and this is the hardest night to get to sleep because I miss him. Mom and Dad came in for Levi's birthday weekend, and so I've got Mom's phone to do a little unwinding. I'm so hungry for media by Saturday night, that after the first hour of the master's homecoming, I find myself reaching for his phone, and that only makes me feel like a beast. He teases me about only wanting him home for Facebook, and we both laugh, but on some level, it probably does bother him Thus, I blog tonight, and then put this dark addiction aside, and focus on my family. And what a family filled weekend it will be.
Tomorrow we have four soccer games. Argh...but we are three Saturdays away from the end of the season, so there is a light at the end of the tunnel. We love soccer, but NEVER would I have signed up four kids had I known that I would be living life as a single mom.
Sunday, John will take the kids to church. More often than not, I do not attend church these days. WHOLE 'nuther post. Possibly a series.. Church is a hurtful place. Even though these people are not the same people who hurt us(and they really have helped us tremendously), I dread being hurt again.
After church is Levi's second birthday party, with many, many family and friends, all eating bar-b-q and having a rip- roaring (it is Cowboy themed) good time. Hard to believe my little
man is two. He is going to be so stinkin' cute in his cowboy duds, I may just have to hurt myself. Oh, but he is bad. We probably should have made the party outlaw themed. T'would be more appropriate.
Based on the number of parenthesis I've used already in this post, I should call it a night. The ghost of my 11th grade English teacher will haunt my dreams for sure. I'm off to pump some milk for the preemie babies of East Texas. I'm a donor mom with 104 ounces to my credit! I feel like I'm paying it forward for all the donor breast milk Cara consumed in her first year, AND the sent me a nifty "Breadtmilk: Every Ounce Counts" bumper sticker for my van (the better to torture my junior high kids with).
Sorry, Mrs. Simmons, I couldn't resist one more set.

Almost a Year

I can't believe I have gone almost a year without blogging. The longest I've ever gone without journaling of some kind since my first diary at age eight. This has also been the most emotionally difficult year of my life. I truly believe they are connected. Not that this year would have been all sunshine and roses, but I think I would have processed everything better, had I kept up with my writing.
We've gone this entire year without a home Internet connection, and thus my posting--with only John's smartphone--was not exactly practical. But we will be moving soon, and I am determined to get and keep a connection in our new home. I need the outlet.

Update

He passed!! We are much relieved, and thankful for all of your prayers. We will not get the official paper from the state for another two to three weeks, and so we still wait for the pay increase, but the light is glowing strongly at the end of the tunnel. I went to my first really real doctor's appointment yesterday. Baby's heartbeat is strong, growing right at the expected rate, and after a long string of health related questions, the doctor pronounced that this should be a boring pregnancy. A little boring in my life will be a welcome change. He is going to have a good time with my being a preacher's wife, though, I can tell. He told at least three church/religious jokes during my thirty minute appointment, but at least they were funny. Actually don't know how much longer I will be a preacher's wife. I think it very likely that the master will resign his pulpit soon. The church never fully recovered from the split two year's ago, and he feels unable to move them past that or to ignite in them a vision for moving forward. He's been talking about resigning since January. I've been ardently arguing that he stay, but from now on, I think I will keep my mouth shut, so as not to interfere with what the Lord may be telling him. I don't want to find a new church. I love my church. And our house (which will be payed for next month) sits right across the road from our church. I would like to think that there would not be hard feelings among them, but I've never known that to be the case.

Praying to Pass

Posting from an actual computer, not an IPhone.  My, but this is nice.  I'm up at the master's hearing office, where he is presently using the children as lab rats for one more cram session before Wednesday's state board exam in Austin.  This is the test that he failed one portion of in January.  The one that HE MUST PASS for his salary to go up--to double to be exact.  We NEED his salary to double.   But I thought we needed it in January and the Lord had other ideas.
I'm doing well.  I thought pregnancy would be more difficult this time around ('cause I ain't as young as I used to be), but so far, so good.  Maybe I won't feel the difference until the later stages.  I was so horribly sick with K (and I was only nineteen then!) for the first six months, that any discomfort seems mild by comparison.  I'm not sleeping well at night due to vivid pregnancy dreams--but I've had these with every baby.  And even with making an afternoon nap a priority, by this time of night, I long to creep beneath the covers.  Next week, I see the obgyn for my first really real (in that an MD will finally examine me) doctor's appointment.
I have been spoiled by two incredibly easy, incredibly fast adoptions, for sure.  This whole process seems as though it will take FOREVER.  And why that should bother me, I don't know.  I'm not ready for a baby right now, anyway.  I should say, another baby, because, of course, Levi is still very much a baby. Levi and the new baby will be as close as Marina and Ian in age (19 months), but we didn't bring Marina home until she was 13 months old, so we never experienced two babies in the house.  I'm not sure we can swing two hinnies in diapies--which brings me back to praying that the master passes that test.

Opinion Poll

Someone asked on Facebook what the kids thought about the new baby. Overall, the baby is awfully removed from the here and now. These are kids who are used to being told a day or two in advance of a new sibling's arrival. Seven months is an eternity away. A lady at church asked K what he thought, and he just shrugged and played it cool. "What is one more?" was his response. But at home, he has said that it WILL be a girl, and insists that everyone refer to the baby in the feminine form. He is quite anxious to hold the pattern, and is more than a little concerned over twins--which would push us over to an odd number. Abby is a mixed bag about this baby. She was ecstatic when we told her we were getting a new baby, wanting to know if she could please have it, since her baby (Cara) doesn't really need her anymore. But she was totally turned off when she realized I was actually carrying this sibling. Seems last fall's "Where Baby's Come From" conversation has her grossed out. Mom and Dad are STILL doing that??!! She will not use the term 'pregnant' and cringes when I do. But we passed a rack of cute baby dresses Saturday and she exclaimed, "Oh I hope our new baby is a girl." Me: I'm kinda hoping that myself. Abby: But, Mom? If it's not, let's not tell him he was a disappointment, ok? Me:Deal. That kid cracks me up. Ian and Marina haven't said much on the subject. We gave Levi to Marina, and she is still in the throws of his responsibility. I don't look for her to be hankering for another any time soon. Randy is well pleased. He is already coming up to pat my belly and give the baby kisses, but he is very confused, poor kid. Being the last baby to join the family by birth, he had no idea that babies came any other way than through adoption. Now the kid KNOWS adoption talk. He still has me chuckling over last week's question, "Do you know who the birthdaddy is?" Cara doesn't understand birth or adoption. For all she knows, the stork brings them, so I will be getting out and dusting off some of our "new baby" children's books. The problem is that all of them make some reference to the "fact" that they were once a baby in their mommy's womb. Which Cara wasn't, and I think through this pregnancy Cara will realize that. With Marina, it seemed like we talked adoption non-stop. With Cara we haven't talked it at all. When Levi arrived, she wasn't curious about where he came from, just happy to have someone smaller than her in the house to boss. But this time around, she will have more understanding, and will want to know, "Was I in your belly?" So this will be interesting.

Levi Turns One

One year ago today, we drove like mad to Houston to meet our new son. One year ago, I suited up in a NICU and walked around a hospital corner to see him for the first time--not tiny and weak as Cara had been--but rosy round and giving the nurses whatfor. I kept having to pinch myself, because the whole ordeal had a dreamlike quality about it. I remember thinking, "This doesn't happen in real life."
We had a pretty simple celebration. Just family over after church for lunch and cake. I made a Cookie Monster cake and a smash cake for Levi, which he thoroughly enjoyed. His expression seemed to say, "Now, THIS is what I have been waitin' for my whole life!" I love my little man.
We did not hear from his birthmother. I hoped today above all days that she would call.

And Baby Makes 10

Facebook followers heard the news on Monday. I'm pregnant. Highly unlikely, insane, but true. Speaking of insane, my hormone surge that was a result of this pregnancy, felt very much as if I was headed straight for the closest mental health facility. My emotions were so out of control two weeks ago, that I bought a home pregnancy test, desperate to get my period started so the worst case of PMS "crazies" EVER would go away. In my mind, if I took the test, then my brain would go ahead and let me start. I was about to throw my "negative" test in the trash and begin my little body pep talk, "You see, there is absolutely no reason for you to feel this way...," when I saw an unmistakable + appear in the test window.
VERY long story short, I am pregnant. Sonogram (not this past Monday, but the Monday before, showed a "yolk sac" (which terminology makes me feel very much like a chicken) in the uterus, not in the tubes (there is a far greater risk of ectopic pregnancy in women with prior tubal ligations).
I am still rather stunned, and it all has a somewhat surreal quality about it--telling, typing, thinking about it. Announcing to the world hasn't changed that. Last year at this time, I felt a very strong urge for another child, and when God gave us Levi (also unexpectedly), I just knew the Lord gave me that desire to ready my heart for the gift. Now, He is giving my nine months to get ready for this gift.
I don't yet feel pregnant. Or maybe it has been so long that I've forgotten what it feels like? Randy will be six in two weeks. I still look down at every trip to the bathroom, and expect to see that I've started. I pretty much feel as I do the day before my period every month: a trifle dizzy, a little tender, and bloated. Well, maybe the last symptom IS over the top, because my abdomen is rock hard, sticking out, and I can't suck it in for anything! If I didn't have a perfectly good explanation, I would be rushing off to the doctor.
People have asked me if I'm happy. I'm not happy. I'm not sad. I'm mostly just relieved to know I'm not going nuts. Otherwise, I'm numb. It is not that I was opposed to more children. I had a feeling that at some point, I would want to even thing up. But I just never expected to do it in this way. I know by the time the baby arrives, no, by the time I feel her stir within me, I will love her and be ecstatic. It is just going to take some getting used to