"Let Me Explain" Pt. 2

Coren got to go to a few days of preschool camp this summer--I am so glad we did this! It gave me a couple hours of break time, and (probably more importantly) it gave him a couple of hours of break time. Each day he came home with his crafts and his costume, grinning from ear to ear. And it made me happy, to see him so happy.

And whilst Big Brother got his fun, we girls partied in our own way. I gave my little girl her first tea party. We dressed up, had all kinds of fancy hors d'oeuvres (we're talking fancy--lil smokies, deviled eggs, the works! Ha!), and I even pulled out my old school strawberry dishes. She loved it, and it made me feel like a little girl again myself. Lovely!

We smattered the rest of the summer with all kinds of outdoor activities.... That was my goal this year, to help my kids take full advantage of the sun. And, you know, we didn't do half-bad, really.....

So here's to a beautiful summer... I really wish it wasn't nearing it's end just yet; I could go another three months, at least!

..... Although this little heart is starting to beat to that Halloween rhythm, so I guess all good things must come to an end.... to make way for other good things. And so we bid summer (not quite yet, but it's coming) a fond farewell....

"Let Me Explain....

No, there is too much. Let me sum up...."

This is going to be a quick photo summary of the last three months or so--I'm desperately behind on my Blog! I've kept a few events aside to treat a little more personally in the next few blogs... and really I'd like to be able to for all of these events, but I just haven't the time--or stamina--anymore. So shall we press on?....

My fancy brother-in-law, Todd, married his sweetheart, Christine--Yes, back in April! And what a festive day it was. They couldn't be more perfect for each other! They've spent all summer up in Alaska for work and fun. Can you think of a better way to spend your first few months together?! What an adventure! And every time I read Christine's blog, I just grin.... She is absolutely fantastic. Todd, you did good, Buddy Boy!

There was a carnival in town.... Yes, also way back in May, during Pony Express Days here in Eagle Mountain. We took the kids on Dollar Day--what a bang for our buck! We'll definitely be doing that again next year. They both got more than their fill of rides, and we didn't spend over twenty dollars. Loved it!

As you probably heard (yep, way back when), there was a solar eclipse.... Awesome! It was kinda eerie and cool to watch the skies darken, as if the sun were going down in the evening; and yet, there it was, high in the sky. And a friendly neighbor taught us the nifty little trick of watching the eclipse through a CD, so we got to watch it without going blind. (That's what you see in the second picture there--the view through the CD--amazing, no?!)

Grandma Brooks and I took the kiddos to Farm Country at Thanksgiving Point. They had a special Dairy Days weekend, and we thought, why not? Surprisingly, it was rather empty, so the kids really had their run of the place. They got to make their own butter to eat with the crackers provided (delish!). They played some animal round-up games. They walked through the petting zoo. And they got to make their own ice cream in a bag (also delish)! A success all around. And thank you, Grandma, for helping to rein them in!

It's 11:15 p.m...

I'm not asleep because Chad is not here--
My bed has no draw for me if my hubby is not there.

He's out with the scouts, which is where he should be.
So I'm glad.

But I am missing him...
This is our second consecutive week apart; I'm not that weak.

But almost.

So I stay up when he's gone. 

And think of a dozen mindless things to fill my time. 

And try not to think of my empty bed.

So until Saturday, Honey....

Thoughts of you warm my bones.

Good night.

Baby, You've Arrived!!

Oh, my Haakon Boy! How happy I am to have you here.... finally! You were certainly worth the wait! And now that you're a month old and already starting to do big things--smile, coo, hold your head up, etc--I should get your birth story down and your journal started. So here goes....

Like all my children, you were a week late. The beautiful thing about you, however, is that you came all by yourself! I didn't have to be induced--Hallelujah! Labor started sometime in the middle of the night. At first I thought I was dreaming about being in labor. But then the contractions started getting uncomfortable enough that each one would wake me up; I'd come up out of sleep, feel the peak, and then drift back into sleep. And then they were hard enough that there was no more sleeping. Hm, I thought, this is different. I waited another half hour to see if they'd go away. They stayed an even 4-5 minutes apart. So I woke up your dad. 

"Honey, I think I'm in labor."

"Really?" He sat up. "You think it's the real thing? How close are the contractions? Do you think we should get the kids up? Should we call Ciara?"

We timed the contractions for another forty-five minutes. Even and strong (quite strong). We decided that, yes, it was the real thing, and knowing my labors, we should probably get going soon or we'd be having you at home. So we grabbed our bags, buckled the sleepy kids in the van, and drove over to the Petersen's. The contractions were hard enough by now that I had to stop and breathe as each one peaked. When we got back in the van and on our way to the hospital, I began listening to my Hypnobabies tracks, trying to find a deep, calm place to go under. And it certainly relaxed me, but I was still feeling each pressure wave get stronger. 

We got into the hospital and into the natural birthing room, grateful that it was available this time around. Then, of course,the nurse went through all the paperwork and questions, etc, etc. And I started to get nervous, because now the contractions were moving farther apart. Still as strong as before, but about seven minutes apart now; and the nurse started talking about having to send me home. 

Home?! Not a chance, I thought. I am a week overdue, woman! A week! And this child is probably over ten pounds already! Just try sending me home! Try it--I dare you! 

She called my midwife, and they decided to come in and break my water to see if that would get things moving. And now I was nervous for another reason: I remembered how much harder the contractions were after they broke my water with Risa--a day and night difference! And my hypnosis still wasn't softening or anesthetizing any of the pain of the contractions. But well, there it was. Either I went or the water amniotic sac went.... It was NOT going to be me! So we waited for the midwife to show up. She came in--Hallelujah #2: it was one of my two favorite midwives in the group of six! How lucky! Seeing Jen Krebs walk in the room sealed the deal--I was having a baby today! And I was having it with a midwife that I actually wanted! What could be better?

I'll tell you what could be better--laboring in a big, warm jacuzzi tub! And that's exactly where I went just as soon as Jen broke my water. She wanted me in there and leaning over the edge to try to turn you around--it appears that somewhere in the very last week of my pregnancy, you moved yourself around from the optimal position to sunny side up! Naughty!! So she helped me undress and sent me over to the giant laboring tub. Ahhh! How.... relaxing?? No, not by any means. I was in serious pain now. But how much more bearable it made each contraction. I was actually really surprised at just how much it eased the pain at the peak of each contraction.

For a while. And then even the warm weightlessness of the bath could no longer help me. I had to get out, I had to start moving around; no more sitting or kneeling or laying still for me. We were in serious GO mode! Each contraction made me clench my fists and whimper (I really wanted to scream and punch something; ah well). Now I was climbing all over Chad, trying not to lose control....funny how much less control I had this time around! Yikes! Pretty soon it was absolutely unbearable! Agonizing! Each pressure wave! And Jen was a hero again, pushing against my knees, showing Chad how as well, easing the blow each time. 

Then I started panicking, thinking about how Coren was sunny side up, and it took me over an hour to push him out! To do that again with you, this time without medication?? No, no, no, no, no! I was not pushing a bowling ball through my lady parts for a whole hour without an epidural. I was definitely starting to panic. I told Chad that I wanted an epidural. 

"Well, Honey, if you're asking for it, that probably means that you're in transition. You're almost there!" 

"I know," I said. "But I can't push for an hour without medication. Please. I can't do it."

So Chad talked to Jen, and she was also reluctant. "If you're that close," she said, "you'll be done delivering your baby before the epidural kicks in. Let me check where you are." I was kneeling over the head of the bed, trying to moan through the pain, but I felt my equanimity very quickly ebbing away. She checked me and said, "Wow, okay, on your next wave, go ahead and push. You're there!" And really, she didn't even have to say it, because I felt that overwhelming urge on the very next one. It was time, and my body was automatically gearing up to push. I bore down; and with a quick twist of her hand she got you turned around. Just like that! Hooray for Jen!! Then she had me turn around and pull my knees up to my chest. I gave a couple more hard pushes, feeling with each one that I had nothing more to give. I was running out of energy so much faster this time around! What gives?! And I think I worried Chad a bit too--With Risa I silently bore through the whole thing. But with you, at the end there, I yelled a few times! It could not get over fast enough for me....

And it was fast! Four hours of labor, and seven minutes of pushing, and there you were! A big boy with the longest umbilical cord I've ever seen! Holy smokes! And you were gross and slimy and wrinkly and crying and absolutely beautiful! They pulled you out and handed you right to me--the first time I've ever been immediately handed my child. How amazing! To be exhausted and shaking, and yet to have the priceless result in my arms. So tender! So I held you for a few minutes; then it was time for me to finish laboring, and we both needed a good clean-up.

And an hour or so later, when everything was taken care of, and we were moved to our recovery room, and it was quiet and peaceful again, there we were: Dad and Mom and Baby. And we reveled again in those first few precious moments together, just the three of us. And how you took my breath away! All nine pounds, thirteen ounces of you! Your giant arms and hands and fingers. The length of you that shocked every nurse that looked after you (twenty-two inches!). The perfectness of everything about you. And that sweet just-come-into-the-world aura that surrounds you in those first days and weeks. You looked just exactly like Coren, which gave me a serious case of deja vu that first week of nursing. How happy we are that you're here, Haakon Joseph--Baby, you've arrived!!

The Things We Carried

The fire came in quietly. For me, anyway. I didn't realize it was there until Chad came home from work on Thursday night and made a harmless comment, an aside really... "It's funny how you don't think about how it would feel to lose your house in a fire until it's close to you."

I looked up from my word game, startled. "Is a fire close to us?"

"No. It's up over the hill. Not too close. I was just thinking about it."

And I went back to my game. And he went back to listening to his podcast. And we watched the kids climbing all over the playground. And that was that.

Until Friday morning, when I woke up to a phone call from a concerned aunt and a text from worried parents. "We heard Eagle Mountain is being evacuated. Do you have to leave? Do you have a place to go? Is your house safe?"

I was completely caught off guard. "Uh, I'm not actually sure." (Funny how you get out of touch with the news when you have no TV.) I jumped online and looked at the most recent updates from KSL and Eagle Mountain City's website. I called Chad to find out what he'd heard. And I peeked out the window. No flurries of activity. No clouds of smoke overhead--On the mountain, yes, but still miles from us, right?

Wrong. Saratoga Springs was evac'd. And the Eastern side of Eagle Mountain was leaving. Ciara called: "We're headed out. Keep us posted on what's going on with you guys." A mile away, and they were asked to leave. The fire was threatening us from a mile away.

And still it wasn't a serious threat for me. Not really. A mile and a main street away. It would take a fire indeed to reach us on the inside. "But it wouldn't hurt to pack up the most important things," Chad said. "Just to be prepared. Just in case." So I pulled a couple of empty bins out of the garage....

And then what? How does one begin packing for something like that? "Just in case the rest of our possessions burn down in our house, we should pack..." what? What can't I live without? What is absolutely irreplaceable?

It turns out, all the value of our lives fit into two bins. Two bins. Two bins that contained everything I would be devastated to lose. That I could never replace or recreate. Chad's journals--volumes of his recorded life. Valuable indeed, since I am notoriously bad at keeping a journal. My children's baby books. All of our family history books. The camera, of course, and the hard drive. Photo albums--the most recent ones, at least, with all the pictures of Risa that have mysteriously disappeared from our hard drive. All my writing journals and dream notebooks and poetry. All the vital documents, obviously. The two portraits of Momma, and the baby quilt with the stitched outline of her hand. And her letter to me, written just months before she died. Our ipod, with thousands of songs, representing decades of collected music. Coren's Money and Risa's Bebe. And Chad's and my letters and emails and cards and love notes to each other.

And that was it. Those were the things we carried. The things I could never have parted with. The things that will never be found in a store or online or on a flash drive somewhere. Strange how your mind can go into emergency mode like that, and you can whittle your life down to those few most basic, most cherished things. The rest melts away... Well, truth be told, it doesn't entirely melt away--I still would have been heartbroken to lose my shelves and shelves of books and my carefully assembled wardrobe. But there we were, left with two bins that told the essence of what/who we were.

Thankfully, we never had to escape with our two small bins. My shelves are standing, still loaded with books. My clothes are hanging in my closet. My house is clean and ash-free (and a good thing, too, because I still forgot a few things that I would have kicked myself for later--patriarchal blessings and Momma's wedding ring). All is quiet and calm and under control. But, for a few quiet hours, I got to search myself; I got to choose the things that I would carry. 

In Memoriam

Yes, I know I am rather behind on my blog posts--there are still some events from April I need to post about (my little brother-in-law's lovely wedding); and some big events that have happened recently (i.e. my third child's entrance into the world). And I will get on those this week.

But today, today I am in mourning.

I just read about the passing of Ray Bradbury two days ago. Those of you who know me well know my undying love for the man, for his writing. He looked at language the way a composer looks at music (I imagine, anyway, not having any real ability to draw from when it comes to composing music). He builds his sentences to ebb and flow, to run together in musical rivers, every word chosen to fit into the harmony of the sentence. You don't really read his words, you sing them. I am captivated by every paragraph. Enthralled. In ecstasies. And yes, that sounds rather dramatic. But if you've read much of Mr. Bradbury (no, not just Fahrenheit 451), you understand. And you probably agree. Yes, I will be presumptuous and say you agree.

I actually didn't read Fahrenheit 451 until college; and quite frankly, though it is beautiful, it is not my favorite of his works. The first Bradbury book I read was Something Wicked This Way Comes. I was astounded! And I was addicted. I bought books and books of his collections of short stories. I read them over and over. There is one in particular--"The Burning Man"--Nothing happens in the story. Nothing. A boy and his mom pick up a hitchhiker, who drives along with them for a while. Absolutely nothing. And I still remember feeling haunted, a sinister sense of something coming..... He can do that with zero action. That story made me want to be a writer. That one story about nothing that gave me chills and left me wondering.

And I've pretty much read everything else since. I love The Martian Chronicles, the way he created the Martian landscape in a new way, different and lovely and melancholy. And The Halloween Tree and From The Dust Returned speak to my eerie side, but with a touch of grace only he could write just perfectly. I love Dandelion Wine, it's poignant tribute to summers as a child. And did you know he wrote every single day of his adult life?

And so I bid farewell to a literary giant. A man to whom I have always wanted to dedicate my own published work someday. A man that built my imagination, and fueled it, and matured it. To the creator of Martian worlds and haunted carnivals and malevolent planets and captured childhood perfections and regal family reunions of the dead..... etc. etc.

To a writer, the first to change me. To Ray.

3. California

We took a trip to California--a very, very abbreviated trip, indeed! So we'll be going again in July for a longer period of time to see all those we wanted to see and couldn't possibly in the two days we were there.... or because they were in Taiwan for the week. :)

And because I'm days away from birthing this child (fingers crossed), and therefore feeling rather exhausted/lazy, I will just post some of the pictures from the trip. Sorry, I'll find my upswing sometime soon.... or maybe next month.... or July, possibly.

And Cali, oh Cali! Say what you will about it's overpopulation, traffic, living expenses, failing economy, etc.... It's still Sunny CA to me!