The Blessing that is Maternity Leave

*Sigh*

Only 3.5 weeks left until I go back to work.

I am actually sad to go back to work. Yep, I said it. I know... Who am I?! 

But, going back to work means I have to give up my days of snuggles, baby games and naps. Of baking treats, both healthy and not so much, and having dinner ready when the boys get home. Of picking up the boys early to go to the park or CMoR or some other adventure we have planned (or not planned). Of the hubs getting home early and having a random day date (We haven't done enough of this by the way babe.) Of working out in the middle of the day and getting our chores done so that our weekends and evenings are about family. 

Trust me, I know how shocking this is...

I went back to work early for both the boys. I couldn't tell you how many times I have said, "I'm not cut out for maternity leave" or "I wasn't made to be a SAHM." And although I do miss my job, the wonderful staff I have and the KIDS (boy, do I miss all my kiddos!) I have really, really enjoyed this time.

I think a part of it is with my first, I had NO CLUE what I was doing. Before him, I never had really been in charge of a newborn. I knew babies from working in preschools but those babies were typically 8 weeks old before I met them. There is no real preparation for what life with a newborn entails, especially one that had so many respiratory issues.

With the second, well we all remember that drama. I was strongly discouraged not allowed to drive or be alone with my baby due to all the unknowns with my brain. We had a mother's helper who did the carpool shuttling so our oldest could still go to preschool part-time and who got us to appointments and anything else we wanted to do. But it just wasn't the same. My ego probably definitely played a part in that. I was sharing the work load with another person besides my husband, of getting my oldest to school and keeping him busy when I wanted to do it all and be the supermom I always dreamed of being. And there is just something about always having an audience. I wasn't the silly mom that I have been these last few weeks. Ya know that makes silly faces, and talks in funny voices because every conversation is one-sided and the goal is always to make the baby laugh. 

So this time around, following the best birthing experience, I was ready. Armed with my bag of newborn tricks, sleep training skills, and the confidence a mother needs to have three kids, I was adamant on enjoying my "free" time. And frankly, I have been having a blast.

So as I sit here with my sweet girl sleeping in her crib (first day, yay!) I realize I am really not the same mother I was 8 weeks ago and have learned so about myself in this short time.

-I actually enjoy cooking! It might be my control side because I know what we are eating and that it is healthy or the fact that it really fills my husband's bucket, but my confidence in this department has been my biggest growth area.
-I forgot how much I love to bake! And since I have been out of my baking frenzy for so long, I have enjoyed the added challenge of making things gluten free!
-I am so happy I rekindled my love for blogging. I have so many details from our life saved on this and I want to keep that up. I am sad it took me 3 years to really get back at it but at least I am back. I even have some exciting news to share on the blogging front, but it will have to wait!
-I can handle 3 kids just about anywhere. Well, 2 kids and a newborn. I know I still have so much more to learn here and we have MANY, MANY challenges to face (like zone defense) but so far, so good so I'll take it!
-If ever the opportunity presented itself to stay at home or be a part-time working mom, I might actually consider it. (Where's the jaw dropped emoji when ya need it?!?) This has definitely been the most surprising for sure, but also the most rewarding, as I have spent most of my adult life allowing my career to define me. I think with this shift in perspective, it will actually allow me to be more effective in my current professional role and whatever I am destined for in the future.

Every experience impacts who you are, every situation and especially every life event, but I had no idea how different I would be after this baby or how grateful I would be for how I have already been molded. It's like God knew just what I needed.

Funny how that works out.

Taken on one of AQ and I's adventures to Maymont.

And then there were 5! (Avery Quinn's Birth Story)

If you asked us as a young newlywed couple how many children we were planning on, we would've answered 3-4 kids. But following the Respiratory Chronicles of Cooper and the #tazmanianG saga, we were settled as a family with our two amazing boys. We felt very blessed. Everyone was finally healthy and we were happy.

Happy but not complete.

In the midst of the trouble we had in Griffin's pregnancy, it took me months and months to reflect on the effect it had on my dear sweet husband, the man who was at my side for every test, EEG, neuro appointment, every. single. headache. How could I forget to consider his feelings (other than the fact I had to drag them out of him!?) It wasn't until we were nearing Griffin's first birthday, did I realize how much I needed to talk about everything that happened and how much he simply couldn't. He had to face the thought of life without me, life without his partner in crime, the mother of his children and the woman, he would say, taught him how to be a dad. How could he do this without me? (It is important to mention that he doesn't give himself enough credit. He is an amazing dad, even without all the crazy early childhood knowledge I force him to practice!). And even though things ended up falling into the best case scenario bracket,  that doesn't replace those initial and terrifying feelings. Feelings that I (still) can't fully understand because I had the privilege of being the one it was happening to instead of the one who had to watch, which is actually the easier road I think.

So even if my doctor's EVER thought another child was in the cards for us, he just simply wouldn't couldn't.

They say time heals all wounds, right? 

Sometime in 2015, that feeling of incompleteness was more than obvious. Even Rick felt it. Maybe it was the fact that if we were going to have a third child, that was about the time we would start to think and plan for one. Maybe it was the fact that I was on the path to being the healthiest I had ever been in my adult life (21 day fix anyone?). My brain issues were frankly non-issues at this point (we aren't sure the reason for that either, but believe it has to do mostly with eliminating stress and gluten... and a lot with the power of prayer...more on that later) and I just couIdn't shake the feeling that there was supposed to be more to our family. 

Rick begrudgingly agreed to meet with my ob and neuro and see their thoughts. How would another pregnancy effect the "spot" on my brain? If something did go wrong, how would we handle it? What would be our plan of action the 2nd time around? I was on the boat of "If God wants us to have another baby, we will. God always finds a way." Rick was starting to head that direction when God's plan really did show. We were pregnant. Thanksgiving morning I told him the news as he got in from the grocery store, stocked with my favorite white wine. He was thankful for the news and even more thankful later to learn my doctors were very much on board.

Slowly we allowed the anxiety to come and quickly released it. This was happening and now officially our very last baby (I've had c-sections) and we wanted to enjoy it.

I have to admit there was a very small piece of me that held on to a bit of the anxiety, waiting for the #ricelife shoe to drop. But it never did. Myself, Rick, our two sweet boys and literally hundreds of people, including our family, friends, coworkers and even a small prayer group I was taking a class with at church, prayed away the anxiety.

And it worked. This pregnancy was the best of all 3. I didn't have a single issue the entire 10 months. I had perfect blood pressure and perfect weight gain. And on Wednesday, July 27th at 8:24am, our perfect baby, all 6lbs, 14 ounces and 19.25 inches, was born in the most peaceful delivery that I never even knew was possible in an OR.

I cry every time I try to explain this amazing calm that Avery Quinn brought the moment she entered her human experience. It was the deepest feeling of love I have had to date.
She is our missing piece, the last thing we needed to complete our family and the moment they laid her on my chest, I knew it. I felt it. Deep in my soul. It was a feeling I could never have imagined, even having experienced welcoming a baby into the world twice before. This feeling of oneness, of absolute completeness.

We were (finally) the family we had dreamt of, had hoped for. The family we believed could happen. The family that was possible through God's love, the love we have for each other and the love of those around us. 

And just like that, we were the perfect family of 5.

Image credit: Carmen Doherty Photography

I'm baaaack!

I miss writing to write. I miss working through the hard stuff to find the silver lining which is what this thing has always been for me. I guess the good news is that we haven't had a lot of hard stuff to work through, which has been such a nice change in our #ricelife. But I started reading old posts last night and loved remembering everything in such detail. Two years is a long time to stay away and there is so much more I have to say...

Like how #tazmanianG has challenged everything about who I am as a parent and he is only 3 years old. Yes, our middle child, aka Number Two, has his own hashtag. He is too f*ing crazy not to. (Sorry Aunt Pam for the cursing, but I know you can relate!) I could write a whole blog JUST on him. We used to call it #griffsense because the stories were things that only made sense to him. Like these outlandish stories he tells us about preschool that obviously couldn't be true, and I know that because I work there, but if I was a regular parent, I might be worried where I am sending my kid. 

And how he gets hurt. Every. Single. Day. I swear someone is going to think we are abusing him. This morning, he thought running through the house, at 7am would be a brilliant idea. Apparently he miscalculated his turn through a doorway and hit his cheek, or so he says. He is now rocking a linear bruise on the side of his face, so upon hearing this story I knew that he was in fact telling me the truth. This time.

I recently saw an article claiming studies show that children who lie are more intelligent than those children who don't and the earlier they start the smarter they will be. Uh WHAT?! I guess the good news is that if it is in fact true, G will be golden. Last week I watched him take his hand and hit his brother so hard on the back that his brother yelped in pain. Upon telling Griffin that I saw him hit his brother, he insisted that it wasn't him! Uh WHAT?! Yeah okay and I have 3 heads and I like to cook! (The later is actually becoming true! I know, I can't believe it either... more on that later).

So here I am, with (obviously) so much to say. And now that our newest addition has fallen into a predictable routine, I have a little bit of free time... well at least a couple of hours with both hands free to type... and I feel like it is time to get back to it. To work through life as a mom of three, combating middle child syndrome and at the very least saving all the good real stuff so I can read it later on.

Image credit: Carmen Doherty Photography