Y nos fuimos pues... *Scroll down for English*

En un abrir y cerrar de ojos... bueno, no fue así de rápido, pero así se sintió.  Empacamos el gran camión con todos nuestros tipilcates y nos fuimos, dejamos atrás ese hermoso valle.   Quisiera poder decir que mientras nos alejábamos iba tomando fotografías mentales del panorama con la intención de imprimir en la memoria esa última vista encaminándonos a la nueva aventura.  Sin embargo, la vida no se desarrolla tan románticamente para una madre de cuatro niños que va manejando una "van" cargada a rebosar y siguiendo el camión de mudanzas conducido por su esposo.  Pero la realidad es que no necesitaba tratar de imprimir esas imágenes en mi memoria.  Están para siempre gravadas en mi corazón, de la misma manera que lo está "mi" volcán en Guatemala.  Me pertenecen, son mi hogar.  Es sorprendente cómo Dios permite tanto espacio y tanto amor en nuestros corazones, pero luego, pues no es tanta sorpresa; después de todo, El es Dios.  El es así de grande.  Dejé un hogar para encontrar un hogar que acabamos de dejar para hacer uno nuevo.  De alguna extraña manera, todos estos lugares son ahora mi hogar. 

Dejamos la casa de mi amada cuñada esa mañana del martes.  A propósito había querido pasar con ellos nuestra última noche y salir desde su casa.  Sin darme cuenta, terminé pasando mi última noche en Gallupville en el mismísimo cuarto donde pasé la primera hace unos ocho años.  En ese entonces, llegué soltera con una noción en su corazón por un muchacho que había conocido apenas un mes atrás.  Es noción se convirtió en un secreto sagrado que se volvió un amor sagrado en el transcurso de un año, más o menos.   Más tarde, ese amor trajo vida e historia.  Ahora ambos dejamos eso atrás para seguir haciendo vida,  para amar más, crecer más y hacer más historia. 
 

Quée tristeza fue salir del pueblo.  Hubiera querido parar en tantos lugares para una última despedida, un último abrazo, pero no se podía.  Una parada era todo lo que podíamos hacer, y una sola parada hicimos.  Cuatro horas y pico de camino nos llevaron a nuestro nuevo destino.  Los niños se portaron divinamente y para el final del día estábamos desempacando nuestras pertenencias y descargando nuestras almas en un hogar temporal.   Estamos hospedados con una de las parejas más cándidas y amorosas que puede existir.  Ya los contábamos como amigos y cada minuto que pasa los amamos más.  Ya esta aventura se está desarrollando ante nosotros y nuestros corazones están haciendo espacio para lo nuevo.  Tan pronto resolvamos algunos pequeños detalles como la computadora y cosas por el estilo me aseguraré de mostrarles fotos.  Mientras tanto, la vida está llena de sorpresas... mejor dicho Dios está lleno de sorpresas, asi que en un matrimonio de nuestro pasado y nuestro futuro que estamos llamando presente nos disponemos a vivir nuestra vida en la gracia de Su amor.  

So we left...

In the blink of an eye... well, not really but that's how it feels.  We packed the big truck with all our stuff and drove away, away from that beautiful valley.  As we drove away, I wish I could say I took mental snapshots of every view, forever imprinting in my memory the last image while journeying in a new adventure.  However, life doesn't happen in such a romantic way for a mother-of-four driving a full van and following the big driven-by-husband-truck.  But the reality is that I didn't really need to have such scenes imprinted in my memory.  They are and forever will be engraved in my heart, in the same way "my" Guatemalan volcano is.  They belong to me, they are home.  It is amazing how God would allow for such room and such love in our hearts, but then again, we can't be surprised, He is God after all.  He is Big, like that.  I left a home to find a home that we just left to make a new one.  Somehow, all of these places are home.

We left my sister-in-love's house that Tuesday morning.  I purposely had wanted to spend our last night with them and leave from their place.  I didn't realize that in doing so, I ended up spending my last night in Gallupville in the very room where I had spend my first night about eight years ago.  Back then, I came a single girl with a notion in her heart for this guy she had met just about a month earlier.  That notion became a sacred secret that turn into a sacred love in the passing of one year give or take.  Later with that love came life, and history.  Now we both leave that behind for more life, more love, more growth, more history.
 

On our way out of town, oh the sadness and the many places I wish I could have stopped at for just one more hug.  Alas, it couldn't be done.  One stop was all I could do, and one stop was all we did.  Through an uneventful four+ hours of driving, we reached our new town.  The children were amazing, and by the end of the day we were unpacking our belongings and unloading our souls in a temporary home.  We are being hosted by the most gracious couple that were already considered friends and are becoming even more dear to us by the minute.  Already this adventure is unfolding before us and our hearts are making room for the new.  As soon as we iron out the little details as computers and the like, I will make sure to give you pictures.  In the meantime, life is full of surprises... better said God is full of surprises, so we marry our past and our future in this lapse of time called present and live out our lives in the grace of His love.

Whatever works, right?

That´s what we´re doing these days...

A box picnic in the kitchen.

and naps... well

Naps wherever they happen... this one lasted about 20 mins!

In the midst of a storm

The house is quiet, everyone is wrapped in peaceful slumber.  Outside a storm rages.  The  wind bangs on the attic door, demanding to be let in.  I don't think I've ever heard it this strong.  It almost feels as though the house is shaking, but I know it's not.  It feels so eerie, so scary.  I snuggle deeper within the blankets, look for the warmth of the bodies next to mine; one, to make her feel safe, the other to help me feel safe.  I can't sleep.  This feeling of being under water and the pressure headache from infected? congested? sinuses is not giving me a break so my mind rambles...   And as I feel the warmth and quietness that surrounds me in spite of the threatening outside, it hits me.

I've known it all along.  There is an enemy raging out there, banging on the door of my heart and demanding to be let in my life.  Someone out there wants to trap my family in the winds of stress, in the storms of life.  And we are going through some weather around here... adjusting to a new baby, packing up our life, finishing a chapter to begin a new one, all of it exciting!  But I have come to realize that with the excitement we can sometimes become blind to the traps out there.  The reality is that when I retreat to the quiet intimacy of the voice of God, I can hear it... I can hear the enemy raging and looking for a small crack to allow his devastating energy in.  So I will snuggle deeper into the blanket of His love, into the warmth of His hand, to help me stay safe.

Progress

In two days we´ve gone from this:

 to this:

 with some of this in between:

Snuggles in Grandma´s chair

"Packing central"

 So I will see you soon, I need to go keep up the packing of our story in this little place...

Another Birthday Post

 This one too, is late.  But it is never too late to celebrate the life of your loved ones.  My Elena turned 6 this year.  SIX!!  Unbelievable! Time has flown and given me a little girl instead of the sweet little baby that made me a mom.

My Elena continues to be a Daddy's girl.  She adores her Daddy and loves to spend time with him, no matter what he's doing.

  She asks to hold her baby sister all the time, has requested to be taught how to change diapers and can do a decent job washing dishes.  She is growing into quite the little helper!

 She is also becoming more aware of her likes and dislikes and requests her hair to be done in a certain way.  She chooses what she wants to wear and LOVES to wear dresses and skirts.

 Our "Lai-lai" has an all girly heart that longs for fantasy, surprises, princes and princesses, and loves to play dress up.

 My sweet little dreamer's bosom friend is cousin Abby, whom she adores and thinks the world of her.  They are exactly one month apart in age, but Elena talks all the time about how the will be grown ups together, and how they will still be friends even when they are mommies themselves.

The moments that her little life wanders into the reality of this world of ours, she strives to learn how to read and practice how to be a Mommy.  My dearest Elena, it is such a joy to see you grow and enjoy the world every day, and it is my prayer that we do a good job leading you into your destiny!  We love being your parents!

My Boy

This comes way late, but I wasn´t blogging when my sweet little man turned two.  I can´t move one without dedicating him his little birthday post.

He is the sweetest, loving, most fun little boy I know.  He loves to play with his sisters and is the gentlest with the youngest.  He treats her with all the tenderness a 2 year-old-boy can muster.

He´s a hugger, and a kisser, and a snuggler.  He still asks to be held and he still needs a warm body to push against when sleeping.  You could be sharing a king bed with him and he´d still inch his way right next to you, half under-half on top of you.

 He really loves music.  Whenever he hears music he´ll dance and try to make anyone around him dance as well.  He sings all the introduction songs to any show he may be watching if he has heard it once before.

 He is as rambunctious as any little boy his age and knows very well how to push his sisters´ buttons, especially Adriana´s!  And he loves it!  He loves to "hold" and cuddle his baby sister and informs me quite adamantly when she is crying and I need to take care of her.

He buckles everything he finds unbuckled all.the.time.  He loves to scribble and "color" people, as he calls it.  He is adorable in everything he says and does.  We are so thankful for our little man, these past two years of seeing him grow have been so much fun and we look forward each day to his newest discoveries.

Happy belated birthday my son!

Habits and Routines

It wasn´t until our two recent trips, one to my BIL´s and the other to my "other home" in Madrid, NY that I realized how out of sorts we really are when it comes to habits and routines.  As the end of my pregnancy for Giselle neared, I began to let go of a little thing here and a little thing there in an attempt to survive the season.  It´s funny how in the same way you do things often enough they become habits, when you stop doing things often enough that becomes a habit as well.

Take chores, for example.  If you ask my children what their "Morning Fives" are, they would probably have absolutely no idea.  More often than not, lately I have to send children back upstairs to brush their teeth long after they´ve settled into watching "some" TV in the living room.  It is miraculous when we manage to put them to bed at night after a successful picking up of the living room.  Their bedroom... well, with mattresses that hosted my parents on the floor and an excess of suitcases, blankets, toys and clothes trying to find their space around their bedroom, it is pretty fair to say we have stopped picking it up altogether!  There are piles of stuff just about everywhere, but I came to a point where I had to chose whether to achieve an impeccable house after yelling at everyone to direct them to have stuff done, or just "be"... Snuggles rated higher on my list than cleaning drills.

Our slacking has met us everywhere... the dinner table, where we became eager to dismiss them to play or watch something just so that we could connect for a few minutes after I had spent the afternoon away and he had to get ready to leave for work.   Then the struggles to make them eat everything on their place have also slipped through the cracks as we just wanted to have a meal without having to argue, discipline, correct and have crying fits repeating the dislike for a certain food.  It reached the school routine that never really happened full blown. Somehow to an overly emotional 9 month pregnant woman keeping up with these things seemed unfathomable.  

Now we have to start from scratch, with a newborn and while we're still transitioning.  Now, I know that the homes we visited during these trips and that brought the awareness of our slacking to my attention afresh, are full of nothing but love and grace for us.  Never did we feel judged or pressured by them, I want to make that very clear.  Their orderly life just made my messy one stand out to me if to no one else.  And I have to balance the need and awareness with the grace for the season.  After all, we are still transitioning, and we will still be until we find a place we can make our home and unpack there the life we're packing up here.  That could take four? five weeks? more?  So, one day at a time!

For many days...

I have wanted to sit down and write to you.  There is so much in my mind, so much in my heart and so much in my plate that it is hard to find the clarity and the time to write.  It probably won´t be as poetic and eloquent as I wished it would be, but this is it.  I am going to let the world around me unravel and try to collect my thoughts in a logical manner.   I will attempt to convey them in a sensible way in the midst of tying up balloons for three little people and settling the fights ensuing among them.  Bear with me.

At some point in my life I came to a fork on my proverbial road.  I had to choose.  My choice was whether to leave or to stay.  An adventure was before me that promised to change my life forever, with new places, new people, new life.  The only problem was that it promised to change my life forever.  However, I needed a change.  I didn´t need a change of all that I loved, mind you, it was a change of "circumstances".  I could change my "circumstance"of being single to that of being married.  

I don´t need to tell you what I chose, as it is obvious, the point that I want to share is how making that choice brought a load of mixed emotions.  Mine is the only wedding where I have seen people cry as though they were in a funeral!  See, I had weighed the cost of my decision and I was soberly walking it out.  I would grieve my loss in the midst of celebrating my marriage.  What I was realizing was the price that I was asking everyone else to pay for my decision.  So many of my loved ones did not ask to give me up, yet here they were being forced to do it.  My husband felt horrible.  Those I left behind were left to mourn their loss, while I mourned mine without making my husband think that I was/had changed my mind in the process.  Do you know how hard it is to take your new husband´s hand, and walk into your new destiny looking into his adoring eyes all full of love, promise and excitement while yours are all swollen  and tear shut?  The poor guy!  While on the one hand all my dreams were becoming a reality, on the other hand I was mourning.  And I could never underestimate the pain I was causing with my leaving.  It is a decision that I would make the same way a thousand times, but I must say that it still hurts today.

Once again I´m brought to a similar place, this time it is a family affair.  Simply put, a change of circumstances is required of us in obedience to a call:  The Call, His Call.  We are moving.  I know many of you know it already as we have been talking about the possibilities for several months.  For those of you who didn´t know, this has been a process.  We have learned so much through this season and I will continue to share more details as we walk things through.   On March 1st we´re supposed to call another town home.

We have weighed the cost of this move for us, we are soberly walking it through as we try to teach our children how to balance the emotions involved.  We embrace the excitement of what´s ahead of us, but we suffer the loss of those we leave behind.  How exactly does one do that?  How do you "go home" when going home means leaving home?  How many homes can a person have?  More importantly, how do we ask those we love to pay the price for something they didn´t ask?

So we pray for wisdom, as much relational as practical in this new transition of ours.  We want to honor all those we love both here and where we´re going and don´t exactly know how.  We don´t take lightly the sadness we´re causing, and we wouldn´t do it deliberately were God´s leading not as clearly involved as it has been.  He alone can make these things happen and He alone can bring the perfect peace and joy that can balance the emotional world.  

Stay tuned for updates... I´ll try to keep them coming often!

El nacimiento de Giselle Grace

A petición de mi mamá...

 

Quizás parezca raro que sienta la necesidad de escribir su historia, pero  hoy más que nunca me doy cuenta de que mi memoria ya no es tan confiable y necesito un medio más rápido de grabarla en las crónicas de esta pequeña familia.  Escribir en un diario es algo que prefiero mucho más que esto, pero esta etapa de mi vida clama por las cosas prácticas.  Habiendo dicho eso: 

Desde mi primer parto, las fechas que le dan a uno los médicos al principio del embarazo nunca han significado mucho para mí.  Cuando estábamos tratando de decidir la fecha en que mi mamá viniera, pensamos que el 12 de diciembre sería una buena fecha puesto que yo estaba para el 14.  Conseguir un boleto por un precio cómodo en esa fecha fue imposible, asi que empezamos a mover la fecha un día a la vez hasta que llegamos a la cantidad que ella había logrado juntar.  Compramos un boleto para el 08 de diciembre y en esa fecha, mis dos papás vinieron.  Ben tenía libre el 09 así que nos aventuramos a hacer algunas compras Navideñas que yo quería sacar del paso.  Ben tenía que trabajar el viernes por la noche.   

La mañana del viernes la pasamos en una fiestecita de Navidad para los chiquitos en casa de mi cuñada, Dee y yo ya me había resignado a la idea de que Ben tenía que trabajar las dos noches siguientes.  Para mí, esto también quería decir que cualquier chance de que mi bebé se adelantara a la fecha quedaba fuera de este fin de semana... después de todo, yo ya le había pedido a Dios que no pasara en una noche que Ben tuviera que trabajar.  Primero que nada porque necesitábamos el dinero y luego, pues porque trabaja tan lejos que la idea de que manejara 40 minutos para venir a recogerme y luego tuviéramos que manejar otros 35 hacia el hospital era demasiado para mi tranquilidad emocional.  Si a eso le agregamos que Emily, que era quien se iba a quedar con los niños no iba a poder esa noche, nuestra segunda opción tampoco podía porque las dos tenían que trabajar al día siguiente, pues de plano que no había forma práctica de que yo tuviera a este bebé este fin de semana, desde ningún punto de vista. 

 

Tomé una pequeña siesta y luego me puse a hacer la cena.  Había decido hacer un pavo con puré de papas y vegetales.  Estuve de pie por espacio más o menos de una hora y a eso, y al hambre que tenía, le atribuí las contracciones de Braxton hicks que tenía.  Disfrutamos de la cena y las contracciones no se detuvieron, pero tampoco me molestaban.  Como a las 6:00 p.m. decidí acostarme un rato porque las braxton hicks no paraban.  Para las 7:00 p.m., sabiendo que Ben tenía que irse a trabajar a las 9:00 lo llamé y empezamos a tomarle el tiempo a las contracciones.  Se sentían como abrazos fuertes que se estrechaban desde mi estómago a mi espalda, se mantenían constantes entre cada 9 y 11 minutos.  Tuvimos varias conversaciones de este tipo: 

Yo:  "ok, aquí viene otra"

Ben:  (que había bajado una aplicación especial para tomarle el tiempo a las contracciones en el itouch, mientras les tomaba el tiempo) "¿crees que te vas a ir hoy?"

Me:  "No sé"

Ben:  (arreglándose para ir a trabajar) "hace 9 minutos tuviste la última"

Me:  "¿Por qué no llamamos  _____ ? (llene el espacio en blanco con su elección:  al trabajo, a la partera, a tu mamá, etc.)"

Ben:  "Demos otra hora a ver qué pasa"

Cuando él ya tenía que irse y se nos habían acabado las horas para "darle otra hora a ver qué pasa" y las contracciones ni se intensificaban, ni se hacían más frecuentes, decidimos que él iba a llamar para hacerles saber que si no pasaba nada iba a llegar tarde.  Tuvimos una de esas conversaciones tratando de determinar cuándo llamar a la partera, cuando hacer arreglos para que alguien más se quedara con los niños, etc. con cada contracción.  Para las 10:00 con el mismo progreso, que dicho sea de paso, fue muy diferente a cualquier otro de mis tres trabajos de parto, alerté a la partera.    Ella me sugirió que siguiera llamándola periódicamente y laborando en casa.  Luego de esto, debo haberme quedado dormida por 20 minutos y me despertó una contracción, cuando nos dimos cuenta de que habían pasado 20 minutos desde la última contracción supusimos que iba a ser una falsa alarma, después de todo y me volví a quedar dormida.  Veinte minutos más tarde, me despertó otra contracción junto con  un  hambre feroz.  

Dejé que Ben durmiera, bajé y llamé a la partera mientras me comía un sandwich de Mantequilla de mania con jalea.  Las contracciones volvieron a agarrar el mismo ritmo, misma intensidad y para la 1:00 a.m. decidimos ir al hospital y acomodarnos allí, esperanzados de poder usar la bañera para laborar.  Llamé a la partera para avisarle.  Ella me dijo que ya estaba en el hospital y que me tomara mi tiempo porque la bañera no estaba disponible y el hospital estaba lleno.  A este punto, sólo podían ofrecerme la sala de operaciones, iban a  poner una cama y tratar de hacerlo más cómodo pero eso era todo lo que tenían disponible en ese momento.    A estas alturas, este trabajo de parto ya estaba muy lejos del ideal que yo había deseado y me di cuenta de que tenía la opción de:  Frustrarme por todas estas circunstancias que estaban fuera de mi control, o hacer del nacimiento de este bebé la celebración gozosa que debía ser y controlar las cosas que sí tenía en mi control.  Escogí la última opción y me determiné a tener una buena opción durante todo el tiempo.   

Una vez camino al hospital, mis contracciónes empezaron cada 4 o 5 minutos.  Una amiga que es partera y vive en Hawaii me llamó al celular y juzgando por mi voz dijo que sonaba como que tuviera unos 4 cm de dilatación (como suena eso, no sé, pero bueno) y se preguntaba si no íbamos demasiado pronto al hospital (para esto eran las 2:00 a.m.).  Quería escucharme durante una contracción, pero su llamada fue el único descanso que tuve en los 35-40 minutos que nos tomó llegar al hospital:  ni una sola contracción mientras estuvimos al teléfono.  Al llegar al hospital, tuve que llenar toda la papelería aunque había hecho el pre-registro que ofrecen para evitar retrasos a la hora del parto.  Hice lo que pude para laborar las contracciones a medio lobby del hospital con una secretaria que parecía estar pasando una peor noche que la mía tomando toda mi información otra vez.  Pero me recordé a mí misma que este era un momento de gozo y traté de ignorar todo lo posible y enfocarme en el hecho de que alguna buena razón debía haber para este retraso y que a su tiempo la conocería.  Justo como había pensado,  para cuando la señora había terminado la papelería y llamó para ver a dónde tenía que mandarme, una habitación de Trabajo de Parto se había desocupado y una enfermera muy agradable me condujo felizmente hasta allí.  

No tenía bañera, pero tenía mi música, estaba rodeada de gente amada y tenía al Espíritu Santo para ayudarme a través de esta celebración para recibir a mi bebé.  Seguí laborando sin saber cuánto tenía de dilatación porque, dada la extraña naturaleza de mis contracciones, no quería enterarme de que tal vez sólo llevara 4 cm y sentirme frustrada así que pedí que no me examinaran.  A propósito, ¿ya mencioné que la partera de turno fue la única que no vi durante todo este embarazo?  Sí... pero hizo muy bien sus tareas porque ya sabía que queríamos que Ben tuviera la opción de recibir al bebé y que yo no quería que me rompieran la fuente artificialmente.  Se portó de maravilla, muy atenta a todos mis deseos y nunca interfirió con nada.   

Debe haber sido como las 4:00 a.m. cuando decidí que me examinaran para ver cómo iba.  Este trabajo de parto fue tan distinto que no podía ni imaginarme qué clase de progreso llevaba.  Las palabras exactas de mi partera fueron:  "hmm... pues tienes como 7cm... pero bien pueden ser 8, pueden ser 9... ¡tienes la cérvix tan suave!" (Gracias a las pastillas de Evening Primrose Oil que me recomendó mi amiga de Hawaii).  Todos sabíamos que lo único que esperábamos para que naciera el bebé era que se me rompiera la fuente.  La fuente nunca se me ha roto espontáneamente.  La partera nos dijo que su otra paciente estaba pujando y que iba a tardarse un poco más en regresar y nos instruyó que la llamaramos inmediatamente si se me llegara a romper la fuente.  Para este parto, yo tenía todas estas visiones de que no me rompieran la fuente sino que pasara todo naturalmente.  Le dije a todos los que pude que me recordaran que no quería que me rompieran la fuente, pero me sentía sumamente cansada.  A diferencia del parto de Benny, en que me sentía tan en control de las contracciones, me estaba empezando a sentir sobrecogida por ellas.    De alguna manera se sentían diferentes y yo me empezaba a sentir como que no podía controlarlas.  Nunca me puse a pensar de que a estas alturas ya llevaba la noche entera laborando, después de un día completo de actividad y que ya iban más de las 6 horas que mis dos partos anteriores habían tomado, sencillamente no podía entender por qué no estaba "disfrutando" la experiencia como en el pasado.  Creo que Ben también pudo darse cuenta de esto porque al discutir la posibilidad de romper la fuente, él reconoció el hecho de que yo había insistido tanto en evitar la ruptura y esperar, pero definitivamente no me sentía en control como lo había sentido en las oportunidades anteriores.  Acordamos que la próxima vez que entrara Caren, la partera, le pediríamos que me rompiera la fuente. 

Como 45 minutos más tarde ella entró y le pedimos que me rompiera la fuente.  Ella llamó a la enfermera, se puso su batita quirúrgica y toda la emoción y preparación para la aparición de este bebé empezó.  Ben se quitó el reloj y se empezó a preparar para recibir a su nuev@ bebé.  Inmediatamente con la bajada del líquido me entró la URGENCIA de pujar... ¡y pujé!  Mientras pujaba y escuchaba toda la emoción de saber que la cabecita ya estaba afuera, sobrecogida por la emoción de conocer a mi nuev@ bebé y de que mi cuerpo tomara el control de la monumental tarea de traer vida luz, recuerdo haber escuchado algo como:  "una mano, ¡esa es una mano!" seguido de la instrucción de la partera de no pujar sino SOPLAR... "¡sí pues!" Pensé "¡como si pudiera hacer algo para detener esto!" pero procedí a tratar de soplar, pensando "¡no entiendo para qué, si ya salieron las manos, ya salió el bebé... ¿para qué quieren que sople y deje de pujar?" 

Lo demás pasó tan rápidamente, como suele suceder.  Ese momento glorioso cuando una ve ese cuerpecito mojado... estreché mis manos para tocar a esta pequeña persona en manos de mies esposo mientras que él quitaba el cordón del camino para revelar a quién sostenía en sus manos.  Su voz anunció "¡Es una niña!", yo debí haber suspirado "¡...una niña!" mientras él la recostaba en mi pecho.  La tuve allí acurrucadita durante más de la primera hora de su vida, piel con piel, mi dulce bebita y yo.  Ella no tenía mayor interés de mamar, estaba tan contenta con estar cerca de mi corazón.  Fue durante este tiempo que entendí lo que había pasado cuando nació.  Ben  no tuvo oportunidad de recibirla exactamente como habíamos pensado.  La partera tuvo que interferir para que yo no me rasgara porque mi muñequita nació con su manita levantada sobre su cabeza.  Él recibió el resto de su cuerpecito, o una parte de ella o "el chorro" como él lo ha descrito, pero lo que haya logrado recibir ¡fue un momento precioso, glorioso y del más grande gozo que se puede describir!  Cada vez que me preparo para un trabajo de parto pienso que quiero llevarme mis lentes de contacto porque no me quiero perder ni un momento de esos primeros segundos de la aparición de mi pequeño pasajero, pero ¡nunca los he necesitado!  No quiero describir el momento como "mágico" porque ese término parece inapropiado para un momento como ese.  Absolutamente TODO se vuelve tan vívido y brillante, al mismo tiempo todos y todo lo demás pasa a ser la más nublada de las neblinas cuando uno conoce a esta nueva personita.  ¡Qué momento más sublime y enriquecedor es este!  ¡Qué idea más maravillosa tuvo Dios al compartir Su poder creativo con nosotros para traer la vida a este mundo!

No sé si fue por lo lleno que estaba el hospital o sólo porque estaban honrando todas mis peticiones, nunca lo sabré con exactitud, pero me complació extremadamente que sólo hubiera una enfermera y mi partera atendiendo mi parto.  Ni siquiera supimos su peso sino hasta mucho más tarde (para los estándares de los hospitales), tanto que mi partera se fue sin saber cuánto había pesado mi bebé.  ¿Fue un parto ideal?  Sí, lo fue.  No en términos de que fuera sin dolor, o rápido, o predecible, o porque siguiera mi plan ni nada por el estilo.  Fue ideal en el sentido de que confío plenamente en Aquel que pensó y diseñó todo este proceso.  He aprendido que los procesos son extremadamente importantes y, porque se le ocurrió a Él para traer la vida al mundo, confío en el proceso en mi cuerpo también. 

"Bienvenida a nuestras vidas, mi dulce Giselle Grace.  ¡Eres una promesa, una promisa del poder absoluto del Altísimo y ha sido un honor ser el vehículo que Él escogió para darte entrada a este mundo!"

Giselle Grace's birth story

It is funny that I feel the need to write down her story, but I realize more than ever that my memory is not as reliable anymore and I need a quicker way to commit it to the records of this little family than journaling it down.  I have to say, journaling is a far more preferable choice, but this season in life begs for practicality.  That being said:

Since my first birth, due dates haven't meant much for me.  When we were deciding on a date for my mom to come, we figured December 12 to be a good date, since my due date was the 14.  Trying to get an affordable ticket on that date was nearly impossible so we began moving the date back one day at a time until we arrived at an affordable price.  We bought a ticket for December 8, and on that date, both my mom and dad arrived.  Ben was off on the 9th so we ventured out to do some Christmas shopping that I wanted to get out of the way.  He was scheduled to work on Friday night.  

Friday morning was spent at a Christmas get-together for the little people at my SIL, Dee and I reconciled myself to the idea of Ben being scheduled to work the next two nights.  In my mind, this also meant that any chance of an early delivery was stricken out of this weekend... after all, I had prayed that it wouldn't happen on a night that Ben had to work.  For starters because we needed the money and also because he'd be so far that the whole idea of his driving back to get me and then take me to the hospital was too much for me to handle.  Add to that the fact that Emily, who was our call person to stay with the children, couldn't do it that night.  Our second person on the list couldn't do it either, they both had to work the next morning.  So, I couldn't possibly have this baby tonight, it was way too impractical from every point of view.

I took a little nap and then got to work on dinner.  I had decided on making a turkey, mashed potatoes, and vegetables.  Worked on my feet for about an hour and attributed the braxton hicks to that and how hungry I was getting.  Dinner was enjoyed, contractions didn't stop, but didn't bother either.  At around 6:00 p.m. I decided to go lie down in bed because the braxton hicks kept coming.  By 7:00, knowing that Ben would have to leave for work at 9:00 I called him and we began timing them.  They were like big tight hugs that stretched from my belly to my back and pretty steady at between 9 to 11 minutes apart.  We had quite a few conversations that went something like this:

Me:  "ok, here comes another one"

Ben:  (who had downloaded a contraction timing app, and as he timed it) "do you think you'll go tonight?"

Me:  "I don't know"

Ben:  (while getting ready for work) "that was 9 minutes since the last one"

Me:  "Do you want to call _____ ? (fill in the blank with your choice of:  work, the midwife, mom, etc.)"

Ben:  "Let's give it an hour and see what happens"

When he was due to leave and we'd ran out of hours to "give it to see what happened" and the contractions would not get stronger, or more frequent, we decided that he'd call in to let them know that he'd come in late if nothing happened.  We had a few more of those conversations trying to figure out when to call the midwife, when to arrange for alternative child care, etc. pretty much with each contraction.  At 10:00 with the same progress, which I might add, was very unlike my other labors, I alerted the midwife.  She encouraged me to continue to call her periodically and labor at home.  At some point after this I fell asleep for 20 minutes and was woken up by a contraction, when we realized it had been 20 minutes since the last one we figured things were going to slow down and I dozed off again.  Twenty minutes later another contraction woke me up together with the realization of being extremely hungry.

I let Ben sleep, came downstairs and called the midwife while I ate a PB&J.  Contractions picked up again, same intensity, same frequency and by 1:00 a.m. we decided to go on to the hospital and get settled there, hopefully, in the tub.  I called the midwife to let her know.  She told me she was already in the hospital and to take my time since the tub was unavailable, the hospital was full and at this point I'd be offered the surgical room to labor in.  This labor was very far from the ideal I had hoped for.  At this point I realized I had a choice:  I was going to be frustrated by all these circumstances that were beyond my control, or I was going to make this baby's birth the joyful celebration it was meant to be and control those things that I could actually control.  I decided to chose the latter and so was determined to have a good attitude throughout.

Once we hit the road, my contractions picked up to every 4 or 5 minutes.  A midwife friend who lives in Hawaii called me and judging by my voice said that I sounded like I was about 4 cm dilated (whatever that sounds like) and she wondered if we weren't hurrying to the hospital too son (it was 2:00 a.m.).  She really wanted to hear me through a contraction, but her phone call was the only respite I got in the whole 35-40 minute drive:  absolutely no contractions while I was on the phone with her.  Upon arriving at the hospital, I had to register, although I had pre-registered, so I did what I needed to do to deal with the contractions in the middle of the hospital lobby while a very sour faced lady took all my information again.  But I reminded myself that this was to be a joyful time, so I tried to ignore that as much as possible and focus on the thought that there should be a good reason for this that I probably was unaware of.  Sure enough, by the time she was done with the paperwork and called to see where I was supposed to go, a L&D room had been cleared and I was duly escorted by a very nice nurse.

There was no tub, but I had my music, was surrounded by loved ones and had the Holy Spirit  to help me through this celebration to welcome my new baby!  I continued to labor and was not checked because due to the weird nature of the contractions, I didn't want to find out that I was really only about 4 cm dilated and be discouraged, so I wasn't checked.  By the way, did I mention that the midwife on call was the only one midwife I had never seen during this pregnancy?  Yeah... she did do her homework, though and knew that we wanted Ben to be given the choice to catch the baby, and that I didn't want my water broken.   She was great, very non-intrusive and attentive to my every wish.  

It must have been about 4:00 a.m. when I decided to get checked to see how far along we were.  This labor was so different that I couldn't possibly guess.  My midwife's exact words were:  "hmm... you're about a 7... but can be 8, but can be 9... your cervix is so soft!" (Thank you, Evening Primrose Oil!).  We all knew that all we were waiting for was my water to break.  My water has never broken spontaneously.  She told us the other lady was in the pushing stage so this time she'd take longer to come back and instructed us to call immediately if my water did break.  For this birth, I had visions of never breaking the water but let it come as it may.  I told everyone I could to remind me I didn't want my water broken!  But, I was feeling very tired, and unlike Benny's labor, I was beginning to feel overcome by the contractions... somehow they just felt different and I was beginning to feel as though I couldn't stay on top of them.   I never really thought of the fact that this had already been a whole-night process after a full day of being awake, and I was already past the 6 hours that my previous two labors had lasted, I just couldn't understand why I felt so spent and why I wasn't "enjoying" the overall experience like I had in the past.  I believe Ben could also recognize this as we discussed having my water broken, he acknowledged how much I'd ask him to help me avoid it and wait, but I definitely wasn't feeling on top of things as I had in previous labors.  We agreed that the next time she came in, we'd ask her to break the waters.

About 45 minutes later she came in and we asked her to break the water.  She called the nurse, donned on her overall surgical robe, and all the excitement and preparation for the baby's appearance came into play.  Ben took his watch off and got ready to catch his newest child and following the fluid came an immediate URGE to push.  I pushed!  As I was pushing and hearing all the excitement of knowing a little head was out, overcome by the excitement of meeting my new baby and my body taking over this monumental task of bringing forth life, I remember hearing something along the lines of:  "a hand, that's a hand!" followed by the midwife's instruction to not push but BLOW... "yeah, right!" I thought "as if I can do anything to stop this!" but proceeded to attempt to blow, thinking "what's the point of blowing anyway, the hands are out so the baby must be out already!" 

The rest happened so quickly, as it always does.  That glorious moment when you see that slimy little body.  I stretched my hand to touch this little stranger in my husband's hands as he moved the cord to reveal whom he held.  His voice announced "A girl!", I must have whispered "...a girl!" as he lay her on my chest.  We snuggled for over the first hour of her life, skin on skin, my sweet babe and me.  She didn't care much for nursing, she was content to be by my heart.  It was during this time that I understood what had happened as she was born.  Ben didn't get to catch her fully as intended.  The midwife had had to interfere to keep me from tearing because my little girl was born with her little hand raised above her head!  He caught the rest of her body, or some part of her, or "the gush" as he has said, but whatever he caught or not, this was a glorious, precious and joyful moment!  Every time I'm getting ready for labor I think I want to bring my contact lenses because I don't want to miss anything from those first seconds of my little passenger's emergence into this world.  The funny thing is, I never do... but come to think of it, I never need them!  I don't want to say that the moment is "magical" because that seems an inappropriate word for such a moment... I don't really know how to describe it.  EVERYTHING becomes so bright and rich, at the same time that everything and everyone around becomes the blurriest of blurs as you get to meet this little person.  What a sublime, and enriching moment that is!  What a wonderful idea God had in sharing His creative power with us to bring forth life!

Whether it was because the hospital was so full or only because they were honoring all my requests, I'll never really know, but I was extremely pleased to have only one nurse and my midwife attending.  We didn't find out her weight until very, very much later (for hospital standards, anyway), so much so that my midwife left without knowing her weight.  Was it an ideal birth?  Yes, it was.  Not in terms of being painless, or quick, or predictable, or according to plan, or any such thing.  It was ideal in the sense that I trust the One who thought this whole process up.  I have learned that processes are extremely important, and because He devised it to bring life forth, I trust the process in my body as well.

"Welcome to our lives, my sweet Giselle Grace.  You are a promise, a promise of the all encompassing power of the Most Holy, and it has been an honor to be the vehicle He chose to give you passage into this world!"

A Brand New Year

So many things to record for the past few months!  So many thoughts, memories, and happenings... so much life!  It would be an understatement to say we/I have been in a haze as we've gone from a family of 5 to a family of 6 while our household grew to a headcount of 9 and is slowly going back to the nuclear new of 6 again.  Throw the Holidays and all the upcoming changes into the mix and well...  what day is it again?

One thing has definitely been emphasized in my life as of late and it is that processes are not only necessary, but they are important to our growth as believers.  The process may, some times, be even more important than the outcome.  And so it is that I have been learning to welcome, albeit hesitantly, all these processes that we have been going through for the past year and the past few months.  I hope to tell you all about it, as I ponder and process it...

But, first things first, so my next post will be my sweet Giselle's birth story for my records and for those interested. 

Never really thought I'd say it...

...but the time has come for me to stay away ("officially") from the blogging world.  The original purpose for this blog was to keep those far and away updated with the goings on of this little family.  However, Facebook seems to be more quick and efficient in doing so.  There is such an overwhelming amount of good blogs to read out there that I feel, at least at this point in time, I don't really have much to offer.

So I will retrieve to this little home of mine, figure out life as it comes this next season and leave blogging behind for a season, at least.  

Thank you all for your time, it was a good 5 (or 6?) years!

...another late post of thanks

#71  The ability to still write these thanks posts even when writing has been so scarce this season.

#72  The refreshing that comes from seeing people you love and who also love you.

#73  A husband who seeks to be the best leader for this family.  How rested my heart can be!  He is such a good man, a wonderful husband, and great dad.

#74  A loving Father who will not fail to lead said wonderful man in His plan for us.  If I could only keep that on the forefront of the mind all the time!

#75  Freedom.  Freedom to be who I am, even when it is sometimes hard to figure that out.

#76  New clothes... even when it is only two maternity t-shirts, I love having new clothes.

#77  The noise of a dish washing machine that reminds me that I no longer have to stand in front of the sink so many times a day.

#78  Less than two weeks to see my mom.

#79  Being able to fly my mom in so she can stay with the children while we attend a conference.

#80  Friendships:  Newer and older alike.

Days of learning

I kind of missed my thanks post, but my thoughts have still been there:

::  Every baby we´ve had seems to be surrounded by a season of learning in our lives.  Usually it is all around one thing, and this time around we are plunging into new depths by a rediscovery of grace.  Very grateful for it and willing/hoping to learn all we need to learn this season.

::  Another patriotic anniversary spent so far away from my country and from anything that can remind me of it.  I am more and more aware of my responsibility to instill in my children a love and appreciation for the country that birthed their mom, thus having a hand in their very own shaping.  Grateful for the opportunity and sobered by the responsibility.

::  These next few weeks will take us traveling and will bring loved ones to us.  So grateful for that, especially in light of the coming Winter and "confinement" season of yours truly at the arrival of our very little dear one.

::  Very, very slowly some routines and some structure is getting established and that brings me some peace.  There is still much more to be done, but as I have a tendency to get overwhelmed by what I haven´t accomplished instead of appreciating what we have been able to tackle down, I am seriously focusing in trying to enjoy and appreciate the little victories.

::  And now, I get to run and get ready for a couple hours at the office!  See you all soon!

A Day of Richness

There was a funeral yesterday, of the father of a dear friend.  Little people are hard to manage around these kinds of events, but I wanted to be there if only to let her see/know of my love and support.  My favorite guy officiated the service at the funeral home and then at the committal.  We (littles and me) sort-of-attended as one of them chose to fall asleep in each drive, so I sat in the car, ready to follow with my orange sticker that read "Funeral" on the windshield.  Ben joined us for the drive and we talked about this man's example of life.  He had been a Marine.  What a touching and powerful statement to see three young uniformed Marines honor the life and memory of a WW II hero!  Although I never met him personally, I feel honored to have been there.

While we waited in the car, I had books, puzzles and all that paraphernalia for little hands to keep busy.  Among Elena's little stash I included her first little book for her to try to read.  I though she might enjoy trying to read it while we waited.  It is only three pages (5 three-syllable words) long.  I never expected to be so soon reminded and reinforced in our decision to home school her...  She sat next to me, little book in hand, and began to sound the first word:  "P - a - m".  She repeated the sounds a couple times, while looking intently at the letters, closer together, just a tad faster and suddenly, it clicked!  "P - a - m,  Pa-m... Pam, Pam!"  Her face lit up, her eyes teared up as she laughed and exclaimed:  "I'm reading!!" 

Of course, my eyes were also blurred up with tears and I was so grateful for having been witness to my daughter's accomplishment.  How priceless to see her face full of pride and satisfaction at having accomplished this task she has been dying to do!

I know not every day will be like this.  Not every day has been like this and we've only done it what?  4 days?  But I can already see how worthwhile it will be.  The house is not tidy... I haven't really figured out how to occupy-distract-entertain Benny while we try to read a poem, not to mention a whole book chapter, I am only beginning to experiment at this juggling game of running home and doing school.  But we will try to make the best of it all as I try to keep in mind that these days and these little milestones will be quickly gone.

We heard a song the other day and we really, really liked the message in the chorus:

"It's not the breaths you take that make up your life, it is the moments that take your breath away"

I can say with all certainty that yesterday was a day full of such moments, and I hope I never forget it.

Many thanks, on a Tuesday, nonetheless...

#61  Family life.

#62  My favorite people.

#63  Crisp freshly picked apples.

#64  Friends, very good, close to our heart friends!

#65  A boy big enough to pick his own apples.

#66  A boy big enough to pick his own apples but who still loves snuggling with his mama!

#67  The beginning of a new season:  Not only are we embracing the Fall but we are also embracing home school.

#68  A first day of home school with the fresh and clear reminder that it is only the first day and that we have lots of time to get the hang of this (or not! Ha!).

#69  Plans and mental blueprints that will someday look like life.  Today:  a desk, tomorrow: a family room?

#70  The constant reminder that when I can´t seem to reach, there are strong hands around-underneath me to lift me up and help me do it!

For the few faithful

This is for the few faithful who still visit this blog.  I seem to have hit a rut in trying to come up with something good to say here.  So here a few of the things that occupy my mind.  I wish you would find them inspiring and empowering, but at the very least I hope you find them entertaining.

*Beyond the physical challenges of pregnancy, I am reminded afresh of the emotional and even spiritual ones as I find myself fighting myself more often than not.  The swing of the pendulum between the nasty, very emotional "me" and the quiet and delightful fruit of the Spirit in me can be soooo long, that I sometimes wonder if there even is a better side.  But when I finally grasp a little tiny corner of that peaceful place, where I can abide in His love and His faithfulness, life gets more enjoyable... ahem... for everyone around here.  

More and more I am convinced that we are always given a choice.  We give into our failed humanity and the emotions that arise at every different circumstance we face, or we live by faith looking to rise above that which we feel and chose to be led by His loving Spirit.  More and more I am convinced that pregnancy is not the exception and that as deep as the valleys go in feeling emotional, out of control and affected by everything and everyone around us, much higher are the peaks we can reach if we only tap into that well of wisdom, peace and steadfastness the Holy Spirit has to offer.  Along with the heightened emotional meltdowns is a heightened spiritual sensitivity that I wish I could tap into more often than I actually am.

So there lies my challenge.  I can´t live with one foot in each realm, so I am really fighting through the thick of the nasty to get to the tip of the peaceful!

*  My little people are so amazing!  I love seeing them grow and cringe at their (and my) shortcomings, but am so blessed by the leaps and bounds they take and show so much maturity at times.  I had what we will call a "lack of patience" (to make myself look a little nicer) with them (the girls) the other day.  I realized that I needed to walk away before letting my temper get the best of me... probably a little too late, but still.  Ben was just walking into the house as I came downstairs and he was able to go up and talk with the girls.  Before bedtime, I climbed into Elena´s bed, recognized my mistake and apologized, she was very graciously quick to forgive, as did Adriana when her turn came around (I apologized to each separately and privately).  But after my apology I did ask them to pray for me, so that I would be quicker to recognize my need and cry out for God´s help in the same way we are trying to teach them to do... Have you ever asked your child to pray for you?  I have been prayed for before, beautiful, powerful, moving prayers, but let me tell you, there is nothing more moving and powerful than the honesty, genuineness, and love of the spontaneous prayer of your own child over you.  Simple words, spoken with love, care and so much grace for the mistakes I make.  I cannot tell you how much I learn from these little ones every day (when I don´t take it for granted... another one I´m working on).

*  And then there´s the nitty-gritty every-day stuff.  Get them to make their beds, brush their teeth, brush their hair, eat their food.  On the latter, our meal times have turned into such a battle to get them to eat "the green stuff" on their plates that I tried a new approach yesterday.  I brought out of the freezer a chunk of frozen spinach and called them over.  I proceeded to explain how we were supposed to eat this spinach because it is so good and important for us and how I was going to give them the choice as to how I was to prepare it:  Option a)  cook it "as is" and just put the chunk of green on our plates, Option b) chop it in tiny small pieces and put it in the spaghetti sauce.  Elena jumped to say "Small pieces in the sauce!", prompting my explanation on how we needed to eat our dinner, sauce-with-the-green-stuff and all without complaining because it had been their choice.  Won´t you know we had the most peaceful dinner time we´d had in weeks!

I shall leave you now, hoping to come sooner than later... thanks for your time.

The last days of Summer

The "last days of Summer" are upon us and instead of all the Summery hustle and bustle slowing down, it seems as though everyone went into a frenzy of let´s-cram-everything-we-can-still-do-these-last-few-days.  And so I find myself double-and-triple-booking our already scarce time (and monies!), while at the same time trying to figure out how to stretch the budget in preparation for the beginning of the school year and all that it entails.  But it is still good to look for the reasons of thanks giving and here go a couple things for this week:

#56 A husband who is proposing changes on our diet.

#57  The creativity to incorporate those changes into our budget.

#58  Also, a husband who graciously is welcoming my proposed adventure at cloth diapering...  although the transition is being a little rocky.

#59  Little children who are growing in sweetness and age-appropriate wisdom.

#60  A first paycheck!

I shall leave you there today but I will follow up with a picture post soon. 

Giving thanks

#46  Grateful for vision and a school year that is beginning to shape up in a calendar.

#47  Family, they make the best company and friends!

#48  Friends so close that become family.

#49  Hungry appetites for learning in little girls.

#50  Lessons in leadership and having the age (maturity) to appreciate and assimilate them better than ever.

#51  Being in love.

#52  Written words... inspiration from multiple sources that I can draw from and bring into my own world.

#53  The fact that every day is new in mercies and grace.

#54  A loving Heavenly Father who loves me perfectly and is gently loving me into perfection.

#55  Family traveling far distances and the days we get to spend with them.