Return of the Vomit-Monster

No, not me… poor little Max has a stomach virus.

Last night I had trouble going to sleep, good thing too. At about 11:30 I heard Max cough once or twice and figured that he was chugging his water too fast. But after a few minutes, even though he was VERY quiet, I could tell he was awake and standing up in his crib. (Because you know, the crib just sounds different when they are standing. I don’t know how I knew, I just knew he was standing up.)

So I went in to him and there he was standing at the end of his bed, very quietly and patiently. I said, “Time to lay down now.” and he (pacifier in mouth) just pointed to his pillow. At first I thought it was a wet spot and his sippy had come open (wouldn’t be the first time!) and then I saw his sippy, nicely closed, sitting right at the side where I had put it before he fell asleep. Then he started to retch again and I realized what it was. Ugh.

I caught the remainder of the puke with his blanket and set him on the floor so I could strip his bed. Of COURSE we only have one crib sheet and mattress pad! I ran it downstairs, pillow and all and, by the grace of God, I had actually left the washing machine, not only empty, but standing OPEN when I finished the laundry last night. I shoved the stuff in (pillow and all – if washing didn’t ruin it the puke had so I figured why not?)

We got the boy settled on a blanket on our floor for the rest of the night. You could tell he felt so yucky but he never complained or whined once. He threw up two more times but then slept nice and late.

Hopefully that was enough to get it out of his system! (But I am not holding my breath!) I just feel so bad for the little guys who just don’t know WHY this is happening to them!

Circus Freak?

Sideshow Jen here, reporting in with the gobstopping idea of having a seventh child.

Last Friday at a party I was in a group of women and one asked me if we knew the gender of this baby yet. I told her yes, it is a girl. She just said, “Wow, you’ve kept up this boy girl boy girl thing really well!” Another mom standing somewhat within the conversation said, “Wait, did I just hear that right? You have *FOUR* children?”

Um no, I told her, we are having our seventh. I swear to God it fried her brain, right there and then.

I don’t want any more comments. When people ask me if this is my first, I just answer no. I don’t offer any more information than that. No, it’s not my first. That does, in fact answer the question they asked, right?

Maybe I am just feeling grouchy tonight because this week I have had several people find out this is number seven and proceed to tell me how THEY would NEVER do THAT. X number of kids is PLENTY for them. It’s not the statement itself that bugs me; it’s how they speak about their children, often right in front of them, as if they are just so awful that having them around convinced them it wasn’t a good idea to keep going.

Oversensitive? Jumping to conclusions? Yes, I fully admit it. I honestly do try to give these people the benefit of the doubt. Having a large family is not for everyone. And I am no saint for doing it. It is just that this same scenario plays itself over and over. I probably was that person at one time. If you got me on an overwhelming day when I felt like I was swimming full speed up stream and only losing ground… some days I still feel like that. But aren’t our children ALWAYS gifts to us? Even on horrible days, I don’t think that idea ever gets too far away from me. What if, God forbid, one was taken from me? I had a nightmare about that very thing just the other day and it chilled me to the bone.

I have a large family because each time it seemed like there was room in our hearts and family for one more. That’s all really, nothing saintly or mind boggling.

(And yes, we are Catholic, and believe strongly in the Church’s teachings on and birth control, but that does not automatically equal a large family.)

It’s a GIRL!

The pattern continues!

Girl, Boy, Girl, Boy, Girl, Boy, GIRL!

The ultrasound looked good and all parts were accounted for and seemed to measure properly. Here are some of the amazing pictures:




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Taking a drink

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Button nose

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Turning to the side

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Ten little toes

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Another profile

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My favorite picture: look at her perfect little hand at the top left!

To bring home what a little clone she is of her siblings, here is a picture of Max at 12 hours old:

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A Blast from the Past

A friend bumped a post I had put up in October of 2002 on the NFP board. I wanted to save it here.

Here is my letter to Deacon Dr. Bob, an abreviated version of our story:

Dear Deacon Dr. Bob,

I hope this autumn is finding you well. The weeks have slipped past quickly since we met you at the St. Joseph Conference in Long Beach. It was such a privilege to hear you speak and to introduce you to our miracle baby. Enclosed is the picture we took with you and Tessa, and we wanted to tell you a little bit of our story and how we came to hear you in the first place.

First a little background about us: We are Jay and Jenni G. We got married right after high school – and after our first child was born – in 1990. Three more children followed about every two years and in 1994 I (Jenni) became Catholic after growing up in a Baptist home. After our fourth child, Jay had a vasectomy. We knew the Church taught against it, so we didn’t even consult with a priest, but we thought that we were justified because I have VERY bad morning sickness, requiring IV fluids for 3 months each time and leaving me pretty much incapacitated for the entire first half of the pregnancy. We feared for my health, and baby number 4 had been an NFP “oops” because we hadn’t been disciplined enough to follow the rules. We went on with our lives, very contented cafeteria Catholics.

Then in the summer of 1999, we decided to move from Phoenix, Arizona to Louisville, Kentucky. We had always talked about doing it and decided that now was the time. Jay has some family there, and we really felt “called” to make this move. Everyone thought we were crazy. We had 9, 7, 4, and 2 year old children and here we were selling our house, Jay was quitting his job and we were moving across the country because we FELT like it.

On October 8, 1999, we set out with our family and all our belongings with no idea of the journey God had in mind for us.

Once in Louisville, Jay got two jobs, we moved into a tiny little house, and I resumed our home schooling. Fall set in and the days were dark and chilly. Jay was working all day at one job and then again for about 6 hours in the middle of the night. He was exhausted and I was feeling isolated and depressed.

I met another home schooling mother who was a former Catholic and she asked me to come with her to her (huge) church’s Wednesday night program. They had classes for the kids and a worship service for the s. For me, it was a way to get out of the house and a comfort to be surrounded by the kind of songs and preaching I had been brought up with. I was so lonely; I desired to know Jesus better, to learn about the bible, and to grow in my faith. This seemed like a good way to do it. Slowly I began to doubt my faith as a Catholic. While I was still going to mass on Sundays with our family, my heart was no longer there. I had questions about my Catholic faith, but I didn’t seek out any answers, I just assumed they weren’t there.

My best friend in Phoenix called me one day and told me she had recently read a book, it was a novel, but it convicted her to start saying the Rosary daily. She asked me if I would commit to do it too. I told her that I was no longer sure if I believed in things like the rosary, that I really just wanted to stick to the Bible only. Poor Kathi was blown away, she knew I had been depressed, but had no idea what kind of effect it had had on my faith. She told me she would pray for me and urged me to order the books and tapes she had gotten for free from the Mary foundation.

It took me a while and a few more gentle urgings from her (and probably lots of prayer) but I eventually did order Pierced By a Sword, Conceived Without Sin, House of Gold, and all of the Mary foundation’s tapes.

Oh boy, I bet that UPS guy had never held in his hand such a life-changing package.

I sat down and read Pierced in less than two days. I think my poor kids had cereal for breakfast, lunch and dinner those two days! The next morning I woke up at 5:30 am and said the first rosary I ever said by myself. It was like a whole bucket of grace was dumped right on my head that morning and I have never been quite the same.

Through the next days and weeks, Jay and I listened to the tapes, some alone and some together. I was very moved my Scott Hahn’s conversion story and began seeking answers to the questions that had nagged my mind, now knowing that I could confidently search.

One afternoon, Jay was at home and had all of our tax stuff spread out across the living room floor. As he was sorting it he was listening to “The Secret to Happy Families” with the headphones. About half way through he took off the headphones and asked me if I had listened to that tape. I told him I had not. He said, “You have to listen to this one, it is not what you think it is about!”

He came to me after finishing the tape and said words I never would have believed would have come from his mouth. “I want to have more babies with you.”

Believe me I listened to that tape as fast as I could. No one had ever told me that it was a normal thing to continue to want children. I thought I was selfish and immature because even with four, I loved the thought of a new baby. We also recognized right away the effects the vasectomy had had on our marriage and our relationship. It was so much easier to simply use one another when fertility was removed from our union. It only took us about two days to decide that we needed to go to confession, and that we wanted to pursue a Vasectomy Reversal.

Due to financial stress and unemployment we moved back to Phoenix in March of 2000. The financial and emotional toll of our trip to Louisville had been steep, but the blessings we received were even bigger.

In a tremendously grace filled trip to New Braunfels, Texas in August of 2000, Jay had his vasectomy reversed.

We spent the next ten months desperately praying to be blessed again, dreading the thought that because of what we had done we may never have another child. But in June of 2001, we conceived. We were being blessed again.

Like with all my other pregnancies, I got very sick. I was in the emergency room with severe dehydration by 7 weeks along. By 11 weeks, they had to give me a PICC line, since I was blowing out my IV too fast. I remained on IV fluids until 21 weeks, when I was slowly weaned off of them. It was very hard on our whole family, but this time the sacrifice seemed so worth it and bearable for the sake of our little blessing.

On March 20, 2002, Therese Marie was born at 4:44 am weighing 8lbs, 8oz. We call her Tessa. Her brothers and sisters are delighted with her. They have repeatedly thanked us for giving them a little sister, and Benjamin (5 years old) wishes he could marry her. She has truly shown us what a gift life is.

We thank you so much for your part in “The Secret To Happy Families.” That tape has truly changed our lives.

God Bless You,
Jay and Jenni
Jenni
Wife of Jay, mom to Paisley-12,
James-10, Posy-7, Ben-5,
and Tessa-3/20/02

Just a Second

Yesterday was NUTS around here! I had to pick up kids at two different times, and even with a grocery store trip in the middle we still ended up waiting forever for the others to get out. Then we had baseball games, choir practice (in opposite direction of course!) and a baseball practice. And somehow in there I was supposed to work in some kind of DINNER. Ha. I was seriously stressing and snapping at everyone and just didn’t see how it could all get done. (Did I mention I am behind on laundry too? Am I ever NOT behind on laundry?)

I had finally arrived home with as-many-children-as-would be-there-then and was cutting up some watermelon to bring to eat at the ball field while Paisley worked on a dinner salad. (“Must minimize sweets this year.” she says as she eats another piece of Easter candy.) I stuck the knife into the top of the watermelon and went to pull it down the side to split it in two. But instead of pulling the knife down, my hand slipped down the knife. From the handle and DOWN THE BLADE.

I looked at it before it even started bleeding and Paisley says that I yelled, “Oh my gosh its DEEP!” I grabbed a towel and started putting pressure on it right away. I didn’t know what to do. Paisley didn’t know what to do. Thankfully, Jay was home and had just gotten in the shower. She went and told him. He came down and took a look and decided that we needed to go have it looked at. Luckily, the urgent care near us does do stitches. I got three; my first non-childbirth-related stitches ever! But they are on my right palm with is a real PITA.

But in that one moment, all of the stress from getting whoever to where ever went down the drain, it all got handled (thanks to Nana for picking up kids and Paisley for being able to drive the van to choir) and Jay whisked me off to a doctor. One second changed the whole evening and brought it all into focus.

Earlier in the day, Jay had been witness to a car accident. Well, he heard it first and then he saw it. One car t-boned another. There was no screech of brakes, just a huge crash. One second those people were heading down the road, maybe worrying about being late or stressing about traffic, or thinking of something totally unrelated, and the next second none of that mattered anymore. All that mattered was living to the next moment, getting medical help. Who knows what condition they are in today? One second changed it all.

Thank God my one second only rearranged one evening. (And caused some discomfort for a few more days.) Thank God that it did not revise my entire life plan.

One second can change everything.

Just a Normal Wednesday

Day three with no car. The only thing good about that is that DH took the need for Air Conditioning very seriously and got it right in to get fixed. But I am stuck still.

We got the security system last night and installed it. Ahhhh, I cannot tell you the relief. Now I just have to figure out how to use it.

Max is being really cute right now. He is pushing his step stool up to each light switch and turning them on and off. Then he turns it off and moves on to the next one. He won’t let me change his diaper (not that I am trying very hard) because he doesn’t want me to take his feet pajamas off. He cries and throws a fit every day when I take those off him to get him dressed.

Yesterday was Tessa’s birthday, we gave her a princess bike and a princess helmet. I would have taken a nice picture of her yesterday but I never got around to brushing her hair.

I feel nauseated. It toned down quite a bit for a week or so but I am having a bit of a relapse. What really stinks is that my body can’t tell when I just need to burp, it thinks I am going to throw up. So I get this HUGE wave of nausea that has me dizzy and sweating, when all I need to do it release a tiny little burp and then I am fine.

So today I will just sit tight here in the house, maybe I will feel good enough to tackle the laundry a bit, and the kitchen. And if we get the car back (Please, God!) then we will go to the church soup supper and I won’t have to make dinner.