A Long Overdue Update on my Health

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I am happy to give a long overdue update on my health. I am currently feeling better than I have in a long time; however, I am still having some symptoms that need to be managed. As I mentioned in the last blog post, I have been working with an endocrinologist and an internal medicine doctor. They have both been amazing. For the first time in forever, I have a team of doctors, who are looking at my health as a whole and that has lead us to some answers. Some of the answers are good and some of them are bad.

Starting with the good news:

-The positive Lupus blood test turned out to be a false positive caused by my Rheumatoid Arthritis.

-I am no longer suffering from severe chronic tachycardia (elevated heart rate). One of my medications turned out to be the culprit. My doctors and I worked together to wean me off of it. As soon as I came off the medication entirely, the tachycardia went away. I have been tachycardia free for four whole months!

-The treatment plan, my doctors and I have put together, is managing my pain well. My baseline is a four on the pain scale. After years of living with a benchmark of seven, I never believed we would have my pain so well managed.

Now on to the bad news.

-The testing came back on my thyroid, and I am in the beginning stages of either Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis or Graves disease. They are both autoimmune diseases which affect the thyroid. We will not know which one I have until it progresses further. In the beginning, they have the same appearance on ultrasounds.

-My body is still struggling to process and store vitamins and minerals correctly. This is especially true when it comes to vitamin D, vitamin B-12, and Iron. My doctor has put me on a vitamin D and B-12 supplements. While he would like me on an iron supplement, I have a history of not tolerating them well. So, we are holding off at this time. If my iron levels fall much further, we will have no choice but to supplement, regardless of how sick the iron makes me.

-My cholesterol levels are mildly elevated, which is a new symptom that has presented in the last eight weeks.

-I have developed a sun sensitivity.

My immune system is going haywire. My doctor believes that I am suffering from polypharmacy. Essentially, all of the medications that I am taking to treatment (aka be a functioning person) my pain conditions are wreaking havoc on my immune system. We have reduced my medication load as much as possible. Having done that, we are trying to treat my symptoms using a combination of diet and lifestyle changes. Hopefully, by making these changes, we will see improvement in the symptoms and possibly reverse some of the damage to my immune system.

Regardless, of what new curve balls life throws at us, we continue onward. We keep trucking along and making the best of everything. I refused to allow my pain to beat me and I refuse to let these autoimmune issues beat me. My family needs me, and I refuse to fail them.


I am Healthy or I am?

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Photo one was taken Saturday afternoon at the zoo. I was feeling great and enjoying myself. Photo two was taken four hours after the first. I felt terrible and spent the rest of Saturday and almost all of Sunday in bed recovering.

Photo one was taken Saturday afternoon at the zoo. I was feeling great and enjoying myself. Photo two was taken four hours after the first. I felt terrible and spent the rest of Saturday and almost all of Sunday in bed recovering.

I am feeling better than I have, well if I am honest, in years. Not since I was pregnant with Antonio, our third son, who turned six earlier this year. I felt amazing when pregnant with him. Then he was born, and the pain came back with a vengeance. Hurting and feeling terrible was my standard. However, I kept trudging onward because there was nothing else to do. Over the last few months, I have established an excellent team of doctors- an endocrinologist, an internal medicine doctor, a pain management specialist, and a rheumatologist. Yup, I see four different doctors frequently. Plus, I have a cardiologist and a spinal surgeon who I see infrequently. This team of doctors, I have assembled over the last few months have finally started looking at the whole picture that is my health, and it is finally starting to pay off.

Numerous friends and family members have mentioned that I both sound and look like I am feeling better. My childhood best friend told me the last time we chatted that I sounded like my old self- the pre-sick me. My house is nice and clean. The boys and I are doing more activities. As a family, we are taking mini-road trips and going on outings. I am sleeping better and waking up in the morning is more pleasant. I am not suffering from as much brain-fog. I have more energy and less fatigue. Compared to how I was 8 weeks ago, I am healthy. However, here’s a secret…I am not cured. I am not really healthy. I am still sick. I still suffer from immense pain daily. I still have a long litany of symptoms. I still have a long list of diagnosis: Scoliosis, Arthrodesis (term for spinal fusion, which is indeed listed in my records as a medical condition) Ankylosing Spondylitis,Sacroiliitis, Sacroiliac Joint Dysfunction, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Trochanteric Bursitis, Myofascial Pain Syndrome, pain from nerve damage, unknown thyroid issue (still waiting on test), and chronic vitamin deficiency (still looking for the cause of this). I am currently restricted by my doctors to traveling no further than six hours from home. This really sucks, since I am missing out on a family wedding and a road trip to see friends. I am a walking train wreck. Yes, I am feeling better and it’s because I am blessed to currently be under the care of a great team of doctors, who are using medication, physical therapy, nutrition, and alternative medicine to manage my care. They have knocked several of my conditions back into remission, and the other ones are currently being well managed.

I am taking full advantage of this and living life to the fullest. However, even when I am feeling well, I still have to be acutely aware of what I am doing. I am never going to go bungee jumping or skydiving. I will never be able to hike the Colorado trail. I still have to be aware of what I am doing, because there aren’t any guarantees. I could wake up tomorrow feeling like shit- with all my conditions going haywire and out of control. I spent Saturday and Sunday laid up because I had a flare come up out of nowhere. I hadn’t done anything particularly strenuous either to cause it. It’s just the nature of having chronic illnesses, even ones that are being managed well. Being managed well can also change at the drop of a hat. Medicine can stop working for any number of reasons, or a new symptom can crop up. However, I nor any chronic illness/pain warriors can live in fear of flare-ups or conditions coming out of remission. We must make the best of things, both when we feel good and when we feel terrible.


I am not Superwoman…

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I don’t remember what normal feels like.  Nine years ago my health started to deteriorate. I began suffering severe pain while  I was pregnant with my second son, Thomas and it never went away.  I have seen countless doctors. I have had two major surgeries. The first a spinal fusion which fused my spine from T2-L4 to stabilize it and mitigate further damage from scoliosis. The second was an elective hysterectomy because I was tired of being bedridden for a week of each month in agonizing pain. That was one pain issue I could cure, unlike the vast majority of my pain issues. I’ve spent hundreds of hours in physical therapy, massage therapy, and dry needling. There have been numerous steroid injections, and I am the proud owner of my own pharmacy. Heating pads and ice packs are close personal friends. I’ve chased natural methods like oils, supplements, diet, and exercise. Some of these treatments have helped. Some of them have not. However, over the last nine years, I’ve assembled an extensive bag of parlor tricks to manage my pain, to be a functioning mother, wife, and friend; so I can be something beyond my pain. In the last nine years, I have learned how to live and thrive despite my medical issues. I have made sure that my medical problems don’t define me, while at the same time being open about the struggles of living with chronic pain to help raise awareness.

One of the most common things I hear is, “I don’t know how you do it.” Followed up by, “You are superwomen.” I am not superwoman. There is nothing special about me. It isn’t some fantastic secret power that allows me to do what I do. There are thousands and thousands of women and men, just like me- living with chronic pain, disabilities, and chronic illnesses that are thriving just like I am. I do what any mother would do. I strive to give my children the best life I can. I want them to have a happy childhood. I want them to know that they are loved. I don’t want them to look back on their childhood and think, our childhood sucked. Mom was always unhappy, miserable, and sick. I refuse to let my illness destroy their youth, and so I fight back against it with every fiber of my being. That isn’t being superwoman; it’s a mother.

People with disabilities, chronic pain, or chronic illness don’t want to be superheroes. Sure, it can be flattering when someone says, “Man, I can’t imagine living with your condition, you must have superpowers.” However, the reality is that most of us would love to be normal again. We would love not to hurt. We would love not to be sick all the time. We would love not to have to count spoons of energy. We would love not to have to weigh every choice by the consequences it would have on our health and be able to go with the flow living without worries. However, until cures are found for us, we will continue to fight against our diseases and pain. We will fight to be more than our illness/pain. We will fight to be the best parent, spouse, and friend we can be. We aren’t superheroes. We are just regular people, who have different challenges then you do. We want to make the best life for ourselves and our families that we possibly can.


Intentional Motherhood

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Earlier this month, I attended the wedding of my childhood best friend. We’ve been friends since we were in first grade. She might as well be my sister after we have been through as friends. I was honored to be a member of her bridal party. The wedding was a child-free event, so my husband and I left all four of our boys with my aunt for the four days and took our first real childless trip. I have never been away from my children longer than one to one and a half days. Almost all the occasions that I have been away from my boys have been hospital stays- such as when I had my spinal fusion, and Mark always brought the boys to see me. So I had pretty much had never been away from my children. However, the boys did fantastically, even our youngest William, who is three did great. I honestly was worried about how he would do because he doesn’t like me going to the store without him. Mark and I had a wonderful time. We had the chance to reconnect as a couple outside of our identity as parents. The wedding was wonderful. I had the opportunity to see tons of old friends, who I haven’t seen since I graduated high school.

Interestingly enough, I was pretty much the only mother there in my age group. Of the bridal party, there was only one other mom. The majority of the bridal party, the bride, and most of the friends of the bride and groom had no children. I knew this when I was preparing for the wedding, and it caused me to have what I can only call an identity crisis.

Up until the weeks leading up to the wedding, I have never felt bad about being a stay at home mom. For as long as I can remember I had wanted to be a stay at home mom, even when I was a kid myself I knew that ultimately I wanted to have a family. I got married young. We started our family right away. We chose to have a larger than average family. We decided as a couple that I would be a stay at home mom- a homeschooling one at that. Never once have I felt ashamed of that choice or inadequate for being nothing more than a stay at home mom, until I was preparing for my friend’s wedding.

All of a sudden, it didn’t feel like my choice to be a mom was enough. I was about to spend four days with six women, who all worked outside the home. Two of them are nurses. One runs a non-profit. One was a teacher, up until she had her son a year ago. One has traveled the world as a dancer and is now pursuing a career on Broadway. The last one works at the university in our hometown. All these women are doing great things. They are out contributing to society. As I was packing for the trip, I didn’t feel like I was doing anything worthwhile like they are. I don’t bring any income into the home. Some might even say I squandered away my intelligence and college degree. All of a sudden, I wanted to be doing more than just being a stay at home mom. Except, did I want to be doing more or did I merely feel like I should be doing more because of societal standards? I agonized over my clothing choices, not wanting my clothes to shout that I was just a mom. I fretted over what topics I was going to converse about with the other guests.

I spent time post-wedding reflecting on being a stay at home mom versus working outside of the home. Somewhere along the drive home from D.C., I had an epiphany concerning myself and motherhood. I have nothing to be ashamed of. The jobs of the other bridesmaids are no more important than my role as a mother. I am not saying their careers are unimportant; instead, I believe all our jobs are valuable. My children are important; they help to ensure the continuation of society. If I am happy being a mother, why should I feel ashamed? The answer is I shouldn’t. Motherhood isn’t something I accidentally fell into. It isn’t something I chose because I had no other options. I decided it because I wanted to be a mom. For me, there is fulfillment in being a stay at home mom and raising children. I have sacrificed my health to have my children. Each day, I choose to get up and be a hands-on mommy, despite my chronic pain. I force myself to go beyond my pain and be present for my kids. Being a stay at home mother is a worthy choice. It can be easy to fall into the trap of society that tells us motherhood, especially stay at home mothers, have no value. However, this is false. Motherhood is beautiful. My intentional motherhood is a beautiful and valuable thing. It is my life. These photos are a glimpse into what deliberate motherhood looks like in my family. Are you a stay at home mom? Have you ever been made to feel inadequate for being just a stay at home mom? What helps you to remember that your job as a stay at home mother is important and just as valuable as careers outside the home?

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Reclaiming Joy

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Advent and Christmas are my favorite time of the year, or it used to be. Three years ago, my father died on December 6, the Feast of St. Nicholas. It was my favorite celebration in the season of Advent, marking the start of the Advent/Christmas season in my home. We always celebrated the feast day in style. St. Nicholas would come to visit the night of December 5th. He filled Christmas stockings for the children to find in the morning. Over the course of the day, we would read books about St. Nicholas, watch movies about him, talk about him, do activities, and spend time in prayer. In the evening, we would have company come over to share a meal with us. I would prepare a big feast with traditional Dutch foods such as Runderlappen. It was always a beautiful day.

That was until my father died. I received the call that he had passed in the wee hours on the morning of December 6, 2014. He was battling terminal lung cancer and had entered hospice care the previous day. However, I never imaged he would pass so quickly. We didn’t celebrate St. Nicholas’ Day that year. The boys received their stockings, only because they had already been laid out the night before. I spent the day laying in bed, alternating between crying and sleeping. Mark canceled dinner.

For the next two years, we didn’t celebrate the Feast of St. Nicholas beyond stockings. I just didn’t have it in me. 2016 was terrible, I had one of the worse chronic pain flares of my life, and ended up in the ER. After that, I mostly gave up celebrating. I was furious with my dad for having the audacity to die on one of my favorite saint’s feast day. (Which I know is unreasonable on my part.) I didn’t know how I would ever reclaim the joy of St. Nicholas Day.

This year my oldest two sons’ expressed that they missed our St. Nicholas celebrations. They wanted more than just stockings. I had no clue how I was going to pull off a happy day of fun. How do you reclaim joy from death? Losing my father devastated me, I had no clue how I was supposed to come back from that.

However, somehow I had to find a way. I turned to prayer. I spent the two weeks from Thanksgiving to December 6, praying. I prayed for joy. I prayed for the ability to live in the moment. As an insurance policy, I called some friends and invited them to dinner, knowing I would feel bad if I canceled. I may have also done a little retail therapy in preparation for the day. Stockings sort of overflowed this year.

stockingsHowever, I did manage to pull off our traditional St. Nicholas Day celebration, for the first time since my father died. We read several books about him, including a new one. We watched the CCC of America movie, Nicholas: The Boy Who Became Santa. (All their titles are amazing, and I highly recommend them.) We spent time in prayer and talking about everything we had to be grateful for. Lastly, I cooked a terrific meal of twice baked potatoes, Runderlappen, corn, salad, and rolls. Our friends brought Speculatius cookies. Everyone ate and laughed. The children played. The adults visited. At the end of the night, as I was tucking in my oldest son he told me, “Mommy, I am so glad we celebrated like we use too. Thank you for putting aside your sadness to be my mommy and make the celebration happen,” those words cemented the joy I worked so hard to reclaim. It will help ensure that I can find joy year after year on December 6th. I will always mourn my dad, but now I know I can miss him and still celebrate St. Nicholas Day with my family.

Here is a list of some of our very favorite books about St. Nicholas.

If you want to learn more about St. Nicholas and how to celebrate his feast day check out the St. Nicholas Center.


Top 20 Board Books

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With the impending move into the RV later this month we had to downsize drastically. Everything from kitchen stuff to toys had to be downsized. I had to go through all of our books and decided which ones we were keeping and what we were donating. As homeschoolers books are super important in our house. We go to the library on an almost weekly basis. We read for several hours most days. It was pretty easy to downsizes the older kid books and chose what to keep.

However, it was much harder to downsizes the board book collection. I am not a big fan of checking out board books from the library; mostly because of a germ factor. Knowing that babies and toddlers like to slobber and chew on the books I just prefer to have our own books that I know only my kids mouths have been on! Given that I read these books to our baby on a daily basis I wanted to have good reading worthy books; not silly dull “this is green” “this is red” type books. Sure, having a few books like that are nice to teach colors, etc but I would much rather a good story! So, without further ado here is the 20 books that made the cut.

  1. So Many Bunnies Board Book: A Bedtime ABC and Counting Book by Rick Walton
  2. Pajama Time! by Sandra Boynton
  3. Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed by Eileen Christelow
  4. Polar Bear, Polar Bear, What Do You Hear? by Bill Martin Jr
  5. Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? by Bill Martin Jr
  6. The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle
  7. From Head to Toe by Eric Carle
  8. The Mitten by Jan Brett
  9. Gingerbread Baby by Jan Brett
  10. Over There by Dorinda Silver Williams  (we have the daddy version)
  11. My Very First Bible Stories Our Father by Lois Rock
  12. How Much Is That Doggie in the Window by Iza Trapani
  13. The Night Before Christmas by Clement C. Moore
  14. Usborne’s That’s not My Snowman (Touchy-feely book)
  15. Little Big Flaps Dinosaurs by Charles Reasoner
  16. The Saving Name of God the Son by Jean Ann Sharpe
  17. Santa’s Prayer by Mary Lou Andes
  18. The Saints Are Watching Over Me by Tiny Saints (This is actually a Christmas present!)
  19. Baby Einstein’s First Words by Disney book group
  20. We’re Going on a Bear Hunt by Helen Oxenbury


When picking out books I wanted to meet several different criteria. For example I wanted several interactive type books. So, we kept one touch-in-feel book and one lift the flaps book. I kept Over There by Dorinda Silver Williams because it was an invaluable book when my husband was deployed. We read it multiple times a day. It isn’t in print anymore and I didn’t want to worry about having to replace it if my husband deploys again while William is a little guy.  I kept Baby Einstein’s First Words not because it’s a great literature but it’s been invaluable in helping Antonio work on his speech.

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Ancient Rome Book List

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Our first history unit this year is Ancient Rome. My sons really enjoyed Ancient Egypt; so they wanted to learn about other ancient civilizations. As usually our books are borrowed from the library. Here is our book list.

- You Wouldn’t Want to Be a Roman Gladiator by John Malam
-Gladiators and the Story of the Colosseum by Dr. Nicholas Saunders
-Sightseers Essential Travel Guides to the Past Ancient Rome by Jonathan Stroud
You Wouldn’t Want to Be a Roman Soldier by David Stewart
- Fierce Fighters Gladiators and Roman Soldiers by Charlotte Guillain (This is an early reader)
100 Things You Should Know About Ancient Rome by Fiona Macdonald
Metropolis Roman Town by Hazel Martell and Mark Bergin
How Would You Survive as an Ancient Roman by Anita Ganeri
Terrible Tales of Ancient Rome by Clare Hibbert


Leaving Baby Season

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For eight years we’ve been in baby season. For eight years I’ve either been pregnant or had a baby in my arms. Like clock work every time the baby in my arms became a toddler we would decide to try for another. God blessed us with being able to easily conceive. However, I didn’t do well pregnant. Pregnancy wasn’t kind to my body. I wasn’t one of those women; who loved being pregnant. Frankly; I hated pregnancy but I loved the end result. The end result was worth all the pain and misery pregnancy brought. I loved the ending so much we had 4.

The fourth coming after a spinal fusion and he is our last. My poor back can’t do another pregnancy. Another pregnancy has a high potential to put me in a wheelchair and put my pain to a point were pain management can no longer help me. The thought that he is our last makes me sad but it isn’t the devastating sadness I felt when the surgeon told me I couldn’t have William. It’s more of a fond sadness. A wistful sadness that I won’t ever hold my brand new baby and fall head over heels in love with another being. A love so strong that it’s all consuming. That I won’t ever get to see my husband hold his new child for the first time radiating love. That I won’t ever see my sons light up with joy when they meet their new sibling.

In 9 days I will be having a hysterectomy out of medical necessity. The surgery is final. It says with a decisiveness that we are leaving baby season. That our time here in this season of new life is up. That we must move on. Move on we will.  It opens up new adventures for us to take. So, while there might be some sadness that this season is coming to a close there is also a sense of excitement for our new adventure.

As we prepare to move on I am left with a handful of wishful thinking items that I am unsure of what to do with. Things I held onto with the intention that one day I would give them to my daughter or daughters. However, there will be no daughter. Despite my prayers (and Paul’s prayers) God did not bless Mark and I with a daughter. I wouldn’t trade any of my boys for a daughter but I do wish there had been a fifth baby that was a girl. Yet, for reasons I do not understand God wanted me to be a mom to only boys. I think the lack of a mother-daughter relationship is what makes having a hysterectomy most difficult for me. Knowing that now there really is no chance that we will ever have a daughter. There are things and experiences within a mother-daughter relationship that just doesn’t exist in a mother-son relationship.

There is a part of me that mourns the loss of that potential daughter so strongly that I want to throw caution to the wind. I want to cancel the hysterectomy and roll the dice and get pregnant again. I want to roll the dice and say who cares if I end up in a wheelchair. So, what if my pain gets to a point that pain management can’t help me anymore. The pain; the loss of being able to walk would all be worth it if it meant that I could have a daughter. If it meant I could give Paul the baby sister he so desperately wants and still asks for on occasion. But, I can’t do that. It’d be the height of folly and would make me a terrible mother and wife. I can’t be that selfish. Mark deserves a wife that isn’t in a wheelchair in agonizing pain. My boys deserve a mother; who can be a mom. That potential daughter deserves a mother; who can be a mom. To try and have a daughter means I give up the ability to be a good mom and wife and I can’t be that selfish.

So, instead I prepare for a hysterectomy. I prepare by snuggling with William and breathing in his sweet baby scent; knowing that I won’t be able to call him baby much longer. He is one and before I know it he will be a totally independent toddler. I prepare by getting rid of the baby items as he out grows them. Donating them; so that they may bless other families. Lastly, I prepare by carefully boxing up the dreams that were for Alexis. It’s time to say goodbye not only to baby season but also to Alexis; for she will never be.


Ancient Egypt Booklist and Activities

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We finished off our first grade year with a unit on Ancient Egypt. We spent about 3 months really diving into Ancient Egypt. Paul was absolutely fascinated by the subject. So, I thought I would share our favorite resources. Most of them we checked out from the library.

Non-Fiction Books

You Wouldn’t Want to Be an Eqyptain Mummy! : Distuging Things You’d Rather Not KNow by David Stewart

You Wouldn’t Want to Be Tutankhamen!: A Mummy Who Really Got Meddled With by David Stewart

You Wouldn’t Want to Be Cursed by King Tut!: A Mysterious Death You’d Rather Avoid by Jacqueline Morley

You Wouldn’t Want to Be Cleopatra!: An Eqyptian Ruler You’d Rather Not Be by Jim Pipe

You Wouldn’t Want to Be a Pyramid Builder!: A Hazardous Job You’d Rather Not Have by Jacqueline Morley

How Would You Survive as an Ancient Egyptian by Jacqueline Morley

DK Eyewitness Books: Ancient Egypt by George Hart (the only book we bought)

Fiction Picture Books

Miu and the Pharaoh by Sally Wallace-Jones

The Little Hippo: A Children’s Book Inspired by Egyptian Art by Geraldine Elschner

Bill and Pete Go Down the Nile by Tomie dePaola (Antonio’s favorite. He liked it so much I bought him his own copy)

Bill and Pete to the Rescue by Tomie dePaola (I also bought Antonio a copy of this one)

The Scarab’s Secret by Nick Would

Seeker of Knowledge: The Man Who Deciphered Egyptian Hieroglyphs by James Rumford.

Audio/Video

Egyptian Treasures Mummies and Myths by Jim Weiss

Building Pharaoh’s Chariot (Documentary we found on Netflix)

Virtual Field Trip of Pyramids

Activities: Sadly, while we did a number of hands of activities I did a very poor job taking photos of them.

Step Pryamids built out of legos

Cat Mummy Statues

Egyptian Collars

 

 

 


We Have A Walker

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William is a full fledged walker now and has been for about two weeks. Walking has always been my favorite milestone. I don’t dread the extra mobility and mess that comes from having a walker. Watching the little one teeter and totter as they explore their world at a completely different view brings me incredible joy. It’s also nice not to have to carry them baby everywhere! However, there is something very bitter sweet this time around as I watch William enjoy his new found freedom being a walker has brought him. I am reminded that he is now approaching one and soon I won’t be able to call him a baby. He will be a toddler. I am acutely aware that this is the last time I will watch my baby learn to walk. Never again will I watch and cheer on my baby to take those first few steps. Never again will I encourage my baby to have the confidence to trust himself and let go of the furniture to walk unassisted. William is our last.

I have known that William was our last; since I was put on bed rest 2 weeks before he was born because of debilitating pain. I knew when the midwives and OBGYNs couldn’t come to an agreement on inducing me. There were those that were in favor and than there were those that didn’t want to deal with the extra complications my back added to the picture. My surgeon said it was probably unwise to have another baby. My pain management doctor said it would be disastrous for my health. My body tells me daily that it couldn’t handle another pregnancy. Knowing all this has made me want to savor every moment of his babyhood. I am acutely aware of what a miracle he is and how blessed we are to have him.

I have carefully saved our baby stuff since Paul was born. As each boy outgrew things I would carefully pack them away for later. When the next baby needed them I would retrieve them from storage. This has been the cycle for the last seven years. However, this time there is no need to pack things away for the next baby. So, as William has outgrown stuff I’ve sold or donated most of it; keeping just a select few clothes to turn into a quilt. It has been incredibly hard to give away the baby stuff; not because I am a huge sentimental person and want to keep every little item but because it makes the knowledge that William is our last a reality. It confirms that my body has betrayed me and can not carry another child.

You hear of those women; who say they feel done. That they can’t imagine having another child. I find myself envious of that because I don’t have that. It’d make things easier if I did. I can’t imagine not ever having another baby. I hate pregnancy….I loath pregnancy but I love babies. I love being a mom. It’s something I dreamed about for as long as I can remember. I tried to adopt a baby at 10 years old. Not as in I wanted my parents to adopt the baby. It was a full fledged case of I wanted to adopted the baby myself and be her mom. I was certain I would make a better mom than her biological mom.

I can’t say that if we were able to still have children we would. I just want that option. I want the option to have another child be there. But, it isn’t an option; so instead I find myself making sure that I am enjoying every ounce of babyhood that William has. I am basking in it. As I watch him toddle across the living room I am reminded of all the reasons why this is my favorite milestone. I celebrate it. Soaking up the joy but in the private recesses of my heart I might just cry a little.