Author: Becky

I don’t know if it’s because my 4-year-old completely disowned her long-time imaginary sister “Tosta.”

Or because I cut off my 2-1/2 year-old son’s curls yesterday.

Or it could be that my “baby” girl is now wearing 12-18 month clothes and transitioning from formula to whole milk!

Or maybe because as of today I’m 18 weeks pregnant with our last child. . .

But wow, this week it’s been so. real. how fleeting this stage of life really is!

Last night Mara and I were talking. I mentioned Tosta, her imaginary sister, and Mara’s response blew me away: “Actually?– I don’t have a sister named Tosta. I was just kidding. I never saw her. . . And so I knew she wasn’t there. The only sister I really have is Carissa.”

And with that, a chapter closed.

Tosta has been around for a long time, and I knew eventually she would be gone, but I just wasn’t expecting it so soon. And I really didn’t expect to miss her like I do.

I posted Mara’s comment on Facebook, and a friend replied, “Meanwhile, Tosta sits, forlorn, in a dark corner of the basement and plots her terrible revenge…”

When I read this to Mara, she was unphased. She actually–appallingly–laughed and said, “Who’s ‘Tosta’?! I don’t know anyone named ‘Tosta.'”

For some reason, my heart sank. Mara’s “sister” Tosta really is gone.

Daniel says, “Look at it this way: She no longer needs Tosta because she sees her siblings as her friends.  It is a good, healthy thing. . . This is the cycle of life.”

I suppose so.

It was fun while it lasted.

Little Micah has battled several stomach bugs since Christmas, and with this latest round, he ended up in the hospital with severe dehydration, unable to keep down even a teaspoon of water or Pedialyte.

Looking back over the weekend, there were so many blessings:

• Daniel’s boss allowed him to work from home both Friday and Monday, which allowed him to be able to “watch” the girls during the times I was taking Micah to/from the hospital.
• Most of the hospital stay was over the weekend, rather than during the work week, so we were able to switch off, taking turns staying with Micah.
• Remember when Carissa weaned herself last fall? I was so resistant to that! but having her weaned made this weekend infinitely easier, with the flexibility that either of us could watch her and feed her bottles.
• Just the fact that we have medical care and a childrens’ hospital just a few minutes away is a humongous blessing! I think of my little guy, lying there listless, unable to hold down even a teaspoon of water or Pedialyte, and I shudder to think what could have happened to him without IVs and anti-vomiting medicines.
• He is healthy now! There is nothing like a stomach bug to make you thankful for the majority of the year that you spend healthy!

Thank you, God.

You would think by Baby #4, one would wait ever-so-patiently for that first ultrasound. I mean, we know what the baby looks like at this stage, right?. . .

Or do we?

And therein lies the suspense.

Deep inside is a new little life, coming into the world sometime this summer. And as of yet, no human being has seen him. Or her. Or . . . them, for that matter!

I called the Maternal Fetal Medicine office last Wednesday and left a message for Scheduling. It’s one of those voicemail boxes that basically tells you up front, ‘It may be awhile before you hear from us. We’re installing a computerized system. Please be patient. No need to leave more than one message. We got the first one already. We’ll call you.’

So of course, I didn’t expect to hear back on Wednesday.

But Thursday, I kept my phone with me at all times. And Friday, I was sure it would ring while I was clearing snow off the car, or in the doctor’s office with Micah. . . When 3:30 rolled around–on the dot, I instant messaged Daniel to tell him that another Maternal Fetal Medicine business day had passed, without a call from the scheduler.

Which means we now have to wait all weekend to find out when that first ultrasound will be scheduled. . .

It’s just that I’m soooo looking forward to seeing that little heartbeat for the first time!

This morning I was changing diapers in Micah’s room, when four-year-old Mara walks in with PJs and bedhead, announcing, “Okay! So this is the plan! Tonight, after dinner, we’re going to have a party! First, we’re going to have ice cream! Thennn we’re going watch one Curious George. And after that, we’re going to blow up long balloons and make flowers and swords!”

All day long I heard about the party. In the morning I took Micah to his doctor’s appointment, and while Daniel watched the girls, Mara filled him in on her party plans. “I’ve planned it all myself!” she announced.

And she certainly had.

Naively I thought she might forget. (Naively.)

Mara almost didn’t finish her dinner, she was so excited about the party. But when she announced that it was almost time for ice cream, I knew this was my chance.

“Well, there won’t be any ice cream for anyone who doesn’t eat their dinner,” I informed her.

She had me.

I had unwittingly signed on to the party.

She inhaled the rest of her dinner, then declared, “It’s time to start the party!”

Daniel works till 11 p.m. on Fridays. So really, what better way to spend Friday evening with preschoolers, than at a party they’ve planned for themselves?!

We had ice cream. I forgot that I was trying to take Micah off dairy. (Oops.)

And they begged for more, but they had finished it.

While they watched Curious George, I made Carissa’s bottle, changed her and put her down for the night.

And just as their show ended, I walked up the basement stairs with my balloon art box. “Nowwwww it’s time for ballloooooons!” Mara shouted. “And after this, we’re going to bed,” she added. (I approve of this four-year-old’s plan.)

We made swords for Micah and me and a flower for Mara, the princess. With our balloon swords, Micah and I defended Princess Mara, at her request, from all the “bad guys” throughout our house, which she pointed out to us as she ran, hugging her princess balloon flower.

At last I felt pretty sure that the bad guys had all surrendered (or maybe I was just getting tired of fighting them), so I told the kids it really was time for bed.

Mara wanted all of us to hang our special balloons on the blackboard easel, and then she put her arm around Micah’s shoulders and stood gazing nostalgically at the blackboard. “It really was such a great party!”

We went upstairs. They changed into PJs, and they each picked a book. Mara picked A Pocket for Corduroy. Micah: Look and Listen and Big Red Barn (he never picks just one and his books are so short, so I usually read more than one).

We read and prayed and sang “Jesus Loves Me” and “How Great Thou Art” (verse 2, which Micah calls “brook”).

I covered Micah with his blankets and then went to Mara’s room to tuck her in.

And as I came down the stairs, I found myself a little sad that the party was already over.

Since this is likely my last pregnancy, I had a great idea that I would consistently blog this pregnancy, right from the start.

I didn’t want Baby #4 to be the one without a baby book, without baby pictures, without any . . . blog entries.

Well, here I am 12-1/2 weeks pregnant. And Baby #4 has yet to be featured in his/her own post. . . I guess I’ll start blogging during the second trimester!

With Micah in the hospital this weekend, I was ready to cancel my 12-week visit. After all, by baby #4, you start realizing that all they do is take a urine sample, check your weight and blood pressure, ask if you have any questions, and then (possibly) listen to the heartbeat.

Having not yet heard the heartbeat, the only thing on that list that excited me was the possibility of hearing our precious baby for the first time, knowing that there really is a new little life inside me!

So when Daniel said he thought I should go ahead and keep my appointment, I agreed. It was largely routine. I actually lost 2 pounds (or did I? perhaps it was just because I haven’t eaten much this weekend with Micah in the hospital?) and my blood pressure was “normal” enough that they didn’t have to take it again to be sure I was still alive. Which meant it was “high” for me.

My appointment was with the new nurse practitioner. She told me that at this point we should be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat with the doppler! I was excited. There is nothing like hearing it for the first time. Doesn’t matter whether it’s your first pregnancy or your fourth–it’s exciting!

She tried for what seemed like forever, and I lay there telling myself that this is normal and it’s still early.

She kept trying–pretty sure she could find it, must be just the position of the baby. But all we could hear was the slow, steady wowww, wowww, wowww of the placenta.

I then started praying that she would find it, mainly because I didn’t want to be preoccupied for days or weeks with whether or not the baby was still alive, when there’s nothing I can do about it anyway.

She couldn’t find it.

The nurse practitioner told me that the uterus is starting to “pop out of the pelvis,” which is a sign that my uterine growth is on track, but doesn’t “tell us that the pregnancy is viable,” she added.

I told her my concerns of having very little nausea since about 9 weeks with this pregnancy, as opposed to morning sickness through week 14 or 16 with my girls. She said she wouldn’t be concerned about that–each pregnancy is different and for many women, morning sickness eases up much earlier than week 14 or 16.

She emphasized that 12 weeks is still the time where the placenta may be in front of the baby, or the baby may still be too low behind the pelvic bone to hear the heartbeat. But she wanted me to go for an ultrasound anyway, just to be sure.

I totally focused on her emphasis that 12 weeks is still early to hear the heartbeat with the doppler. “So I think the baby is okay,” I told Daniel.

“We just don’t know,” he replied. “That might not be what God has for us.”

I always say I’m the ‘glass-is-half-full’ person, and he’s the ‘glass-is-half-empty’ person. (He says it’s the opposite.)

Anyway, in this case, he told me that he just wants to be realistic about it.

So when I scheduled the ultrasound, I told him, “Well, in that case, I definitely want you to be there with me. In the outside chance that something is wrong–well, it would be really hard.”

With Micah in the hospital, there isn’t a lot of “downtime” right now to think about the possibilities for our littlest baby. But when I do, my mind can run to scary places.

I’m praying that God will keep my mind thinking truth: What can I be certain of right now? Well, that 12 weeks is early. That sometimes the doppler can’t pick up the heartbeat, but you can see it right away on the ultrasound. That if something happened, there’s nothing we can do to change that, at this point.  That my seeing (or not seeing) the heartbeat doesn’t change the reality of the situation. It is what it is–and for now, only God knows.  That God chose for me not to hear the heartbeat today–so that I would place this little one back in His hands, something I need to do every day with each of our children anyway. . . That God is in control of everything that happens in our lives, whether it seems “good” or “bad.” That He loves us and promises to walk beside us. Always. Whether there really is a heartbeat. Or not.

And what about those worrisome possibilities that I can do nothing about?

Those–I have to leave with God.