Greg was a complete and total surprise.
We were somewhat open to the idea of a second child, and had discussed it. But, our discussions sort of had the same tone as when we discuss replacing the flooring downstairs...someday, but not right now. I figured it would be six months to a year before we were going to being "trying", if we began trying at all. Meanwhile, I was on birth control and since I took it faithfully, I figured we were "safe". I was wrong.
There were several reasons we were still in the "one child or two children?" discussion phase. First, James was an only child, had loved it, and said he'd be happy with just one child. Second (and the biggest reason for me), my brother has a rare genetic disorder and I do not know if I am a carrier for it. It's a recessive gene, so both James and myself would have to be carriers in order to have a chance of passing it on to our children. Even then, I think there's only a 25% chance of one of our children having SSADH (the specific condition my brother has). I've never been tested because insurance won't cover it and it would cost us upwards of $3K to get tested.
Anyway, I just didn't know if I wanted to "gamble" on having a kid with SSADH. As much as I love Bart and as much of a blessing and joy he is, I have seen what a strain a child with special needs can place on a family. And I know how hard it can be for the typically-developing sibling of a child with special needs. Neither James nor I believe in abortion, so even though a prenatal diagnosis is possible, we would certainly NOT terminate a pregnancy. So in our minds, we only had two options: have a second child and take the risks of him/her having SSADH or stick with one child.
Well, in the midst of all this discussion, God decided to intervene somehow and Greg was conceived. We found out on Father's Day 2009. He's healthy, happy, and a wonderful addition to our family. I think he's the best surprise I've ever received.
Yes, having two children is stressful sometimes (I am in awe of my friends who have 3, 4, 5, or even more children!), and the first few months of Greg's life were very tough (what with the newborn, the toddler, and the mother with breast cancer. Oh, and let's not forget the (milder this time, but still present) postpartum depression. I don't think that James and I do very well with the newborn period. However, watching how Susanna loves her little brother, and seeing how she can elicit such a joyful smile from Greg, makes it all worth it. There will certainly be sibling rivalry later on, and they will fight and all that stuff. But I hope, and I believe, that as they grow up and move into adulthood, that Susanna and Greg will be friends. I dream of them being in each other's weddings, spoiling each other's children, and their children (our grandchildren) becoming friends and playing together. In other words, I hope that their relationship will contain some of the elements missing from my relationship with Bart.
I've found that what everyone says is true; every child is different, and so is your relationship with them. I think Greg is much attached to me than Susanna was at this point (it's not that she wasn't attached, but she rarely cried when we left her anyplace, and Greg does.) and he has this way of giving me adoring smiles that convey that he thinks that I'm the best thing since sliced bread. I look forward to seeing his personality develop. He is very much like his sister in that he loves to smile and laugh, and also enjoys being around people. And the physical resemblance...my gosh! I need to post some "comparison" photos for you. It's crazy how much he looks like Susanna as a baby.
Thanks God, for going ahead and making the "one child or two children" decision for us. Best. thing. ever.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
I'm Not in Kansas Anymore and I Don't Want to Go Back!
Since August 2009, I have been employed by Bon Secours Hampton Roads, which is part of the Bon Secours International health system. It was founded by Catholic nuns (the sisters of Bon Secours) and has kept the life and teachings of Jesus Christ as part of its mission for 100+ years.
When I began working for BSHR, I had to attend a new employee orientation, which lasted all day. By and large, hospital orientations for new employees are extremely similar, and Bon Secours was no exception. However, there were a few key distinctions at this one that quite pleased me. First, nearly everyone who presented material highlighted the mission of Bon Secours and its status as a faith-based organization. Second, BSHR actually has an administrator whose main role is Mission. She's the one all the Spiritual Care departments answer to, and although I've only met her that one time, I was quite impressed. Third, we (meaning all employees, not just the chaplains) are not just permitted, but encouraged to PRAY with patients if they ask us and/or seem amenable to it. Wow. There are prayers said over the PA system twice a day, and at DePaul we even announce the newest babies each day (first and middle names only, never last names).
Once I began actually working, I noticed other differences. The Spiritual Care departments are much better staffed than at most secular hospitals. Both Maryview and DePaul have at least one chaplain (usually two during the week) in-house seven days a week, 365 days of year. Both hospitals have on-call coverage 24/7, and Maryview has (due to the resurrection of its CPE program) resumed offering 24/7 in-house coverage Monday through Friday. With that sort of staff, every patient is visited (or at least we attempt to visit them) at least once during their stay. We visit patients in critical situations more, of course, and are always available via the pager system for emergencies and other requests.
Next, the hospital staff, especially the doctors, nurses, CNA's, and other staff who directly care for patients, clearly value the chaplains and see us as a key part of the "team." That is not always the case at secular hospitals. I've also been impressed by the way the staff cares for patients and families when we're delayed or (rarely) not available. One time I arrived at the bedside of a recently deceased patient only to find that the family had already left (I guess they had been present when the patient died, and didn't feel like waiting for me to drive half an hour from Chesapeake). The staff on the unit assured me that the family had been "fine", and told me what they (the staff) had done to comfort them; prayer, listening to stories, offering support, etc. Basically, lots of what I would have done for that family. It was nice knowing that others had stepped up to the plate when the chaplain wasn't present.
I will also say that I believe that patient care is superior here than at many secular hospitals in the area. True, the facilities at other hospitals may occasionally be nicer, but if I had to choose between competent staff who exuded caring and a really fancy facility, I'd pick the latter in a heartbeat.
When I began working for BSHR, I had to attend a new employee orientation, which lasted all day. By and large, hospital orientations for new employees are extremely similar, and Bon Secours was no exception. However, there were a few key distinctions at this one that quite pleased me. First, nearly everyone who presented material highlighted the mission of Bon Secours and its status as a faith-based organization. Second, BSHR actually has an administrator whose main role is Mission. She's the one all the Spiritual Care departments answer to, and although I've only met her that one time, I was quite impressed. Third, we (meaning all employees, not just the chaplains) are not just permitted, but encouraged to PRAY with patients if they ask us and/or seem amenable to it. Wow. There are prayers said over the PA system twice a day, and at DePaul we even announce the newest babies each day (first and middle names only, never last names).
Once I began actually working, I noticed other differences. The Spiritual Care departments are much better staffed than at most secular hospitals. Both Maryview and DePaul have at least one chaplain (usually two during the week) in-house seven days a week, 365 days of year. Both hospitals have on-call coverage 24/7, and Maryview has (due to the resurrection of its CPE program) resumed offering 24/7 in-house coverage Monday through Friday. With that sort of staff, every patient is visited (or at least we attempt to visit them) at least once during their stay. We visit patients in critical situations more, of course, and are always available via the pager system for emergencies and other requests.
Next, the hospital staff, especially the doctors, nurses, CNA's, and other staff who directly care for patients, clearly value the chaplains and see us as a key part of the "team." That is not always the case at secular hospitals. I've also been impressed by the way the staff cares for patients and families when we're delayed or (rarely) not available. One time I arrived at the bedside of a recently deceased patient only to find that the family had already left (I guess they had been present when the patient died, and didn't feel like waiting for me to drive half an hour from Chesapeake). The staff on the unit assured me that the family had been "fine", and told me what they (the staff) had done to comfort them; prayer, listening to stories, offering support, etc. Basically, lots of what I would have done for that family. It was nice knowing that others had stepped up to the plate when the chaplain wasn't present.
I will also say that I believe that patient care is superior here than at many secular hospitals in the area. True, the facilities at other hospitals may occasionally be nicer, but if I had to choose between competent staff who exuded caring and a really fancy facility, I'd pick the latter in a heartbeat.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Sunday, October 24, 2010
The Danville Years: My Own September 11 Experience
For two and a half years, I have struggled with how to adequately and succinctly describe my time at Saint John's, and how to respond when someone says, "was the local church tough for you?" Until recently, I couldn't really think of an appropriate description without giving a 30 minute blow-by-blow account of everything that happened, or simply saying "yes", which usually leads people to believe that it was all my responsibility and I'm "just not pastor material", which I don't think is true. So, "tough" is not adequate for describing my time in Danville. Heart-wrenching, yes. Traumatizing, yes. Devastating, yes.
However, a few weeks ago, I thought of a good analogy that is brief yet infinitely more accurate than "tough." So here is what I can (and may) say in the future, when someone asks me about my experience in Danville:
"To say that my experience in that particular setting was 'tough' would be like saying that September 11, 2001 was an 'unfortunate event' for the United States of America." In other words, my two years in Danville (particularly the final six months) were to my professional and persona lives what September 11 was to this nation: absolutely devastating, life-changing, and innocence-shattering.
Before anyone gets extremely offended by what I just said, please understand that I don't mean any disrespect to those who died as a result of 9-11, who lost family members in that tragedy, nor am I trying to make light of that horrible day. I am merely trying to use it as a comparison to my own experience, because I think it is an accurate comparison to the impact Danville had on my life and my family. I ran it by James almost as soon as I thought of it, and he (who walked with me, supported, defended, and loved me through the whole experience, and was also wounded himself) totally agreed.
Here are some of the similarities I've thought of:
However, a few weeks ago, I thought of a good analogy that is brief yet infinitely more accurate than "tough." So here is what I can (and may) say in the future, when someone asks me about my experience in Danville:
"To say that my experience in that particular setting was 'tough' would be like saying that September 11, 2001 was an 'unfortunate event' for the United States of America." In other words, my two years in Danville (particularly the final six months) were to my professional and persona lives what September 11 was to this nation: absolutely devastating, life-changing, and innocence-shattering.
Before anyone gets extremely offended by what I just said, please understand that I don't mean any disrespect to those who died as a result of 9-11, who lost family members in that tragedy, nor am I trying to make light of that horrible day. I am merely trying to use it as a comparison to my own experience, because I think it is an accurate comparison to the impact Danville had on my life and my family. I ran it by James almost as soon as I thought of it, and he (who walked with me, supported, defended, and loved me through the whole experience, and was also wounded himself) totally agreed.
Here are some of the similarities I've thought of:
- The 9-11 attacks totally blindsided the US; their success was a result of our defenses being down and us not expecting (and not being prepared for) anything of that scale. I had no clue what was going on "behind the scenes" at Saint John's because I was inexperienced and (for the first year at least) they put on a very good front.
- The 9-11 attacks also shattered our innocence (whatever innocence a 225 year old nation has), damaged our ability to trust others, and left us feeling rather bruised, battered, and grief-stricken. By the time I left St. John's in May 2008, I felt so bruised and battered that it took me ten months of reflection and sharing with my CPE colleagues and supervisor before I had reached the place where I could forgive certain church members, the congregation as a whole, and even myself for what happened.
- In the aftermath of 9-11, we felt that other nations were not supporting us. Remember how we appealed to various "allies" for help in tracking down Al-Qaeda (sp?) and many of them turned us down? Remember the story about "freedom fries" instead of "French Fries" in Capitol Hill cafeterias? While I did have several clergy colleagues who reached out to me during my experience and after I left, I felt abandoned by the Annual Conference. My marriage was suffering, my self-confidence was at an all-time low, I was seriously questioning my calling to ordained ministry, and I was constantly beating myself up over what happened, but all I sensed from the Annual Conference was...recrimination, for lack of a better term.
- While we may have healed from 9-11, we are forever changed and things will never be the same. I don't think this is necessarily all bad, but it's a shame that we have to go to these lengths to protect ourselves. Think of how air travel has changed...I feel like I have mostly processed through things and have experienced healing. However, if I ever return to the local church as a pastor, I will take certain measures to protect myself and my family so we're not so vulnerable again, and so I'm more aware of potential "bombs."
- Although it's possible that September 11 might have been less catastrophic with a little more diligence on the part of the U.S. (some of the things we do now, for example), it was by no means "our fault." Likewise, I've come to realize that accept that while I certainly hold some responsibility for the whole Saint John's debacle, there were many aspects that were out of my control and/or a result of pure circumstance (inexperience, being naive, losing my father-in-law, having a baby, being in a long-distance marriage, have postpartum depression, and my dog dying, among others).
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Part 2 or The Part Where I Share My Feelings
If you know my mom at all, you know that she did not simply tell me, "I have breast cancer. I'm having an MRI tomorrow and major surgery right around your due date, bye!" Of course not, because my mom is much more...maternal and selfless than that. After giving me some details and answering some of my questions, we spent at least fifteen minutes discussing something else, namely how the heck James and I would handle the whole childbirth, hospital, and first few days at home since our plan had now been shredded to smithereens.
I have no doubt that Mom was upset/worried about the deadly disease coursing through her body, and that her birthday had been RUINED (she had just heard from the oncologist that morning). However, outwardly she seemed much more concerned about how we were going to cope and about brainstorming ideas, most of which involved calling James' mom as soon as I knew this was "it" and hiring someone else to stay with Susanna until James' mom arrived here (she lives 4-5 hours away). We also discussed me pleading with my OB to induce a week early.
We ended the conversation not really resolving anything, but agreed that we had plenty of time AND I kept reminding her that LOTS of people give birth without having families nearby to support them. If they could do it, so could we.
So, in my mind, my thoughts for the next few hours sort of went like this (interspersed with crying jags, of course): "My mom has cancer...she's having major surgery right when I'm supposed to have my baby...this isn't fair, I want my Mommy...calm down, Patti, it's just a few weeks, you'll get through it...right, after all, I can get through this...it's just temporary. Gotta think of the long-term, put everything in perspective...Stop being so selfish...After all, she's the one with cancer and facing major surgery...HOLY CRAP! My mommy has cancer! People die from cancer! She might die! I can handle her not being around for a few weeks, but what if she DIES? MY MOM CAN'T DIE! (Ignoring the fact that I have a husband and numerous friends who have already lost a parent) My children have to know her! Deep breaths...calm down...this is breast cancer which has a much lower mortality rate than say, pancreatic cancer. Mom had a clean mammogram in August, this was probably caught early. She'll have the surgery, maybe chemo and radiation, and chances are that by this fall, it will all be over. Right. Be positive." What also helped (and continues to help) is the knowledge that Mom is no weak sister. She is a fighter, a survivor, and if breast cancer does kill her eventually, it will not be without her fighting it with all she has in her.
By the time James got home several hours later, I was mostly in control of myself. The next day, we found out that Greg would be coming two weeks early, anyway, so that issue was resolved, and Mom's exclamation of "God is good!" when I told her that news was priceless.
So, the spring was kind of sucky (most of all for Mom, since she was the patient) because it was (in my eyes, anyway) a roller coaster of good news, bad news, and the accompanying emotions. Mom has the rarest, most aggressive kind of breast cancer possible. It's actually highly irregular for a Caucasian woman in her 60s to get this type. But Mom's always been an achiever, and our family tends to be "health care trendsetters", anyway. She had four surgeries in three months (I'm going to respect her privacy and leave out the details) and began chemo in June. She's responding well to the chemo, and is part of a clinical trial for a promising new chemo drug. Things aren't the same as they were a year ago, but I'm adjusting to the "new normal" and thankful that between God's grace and healing, the miracle of modern medicine (and the gifts of her oncologist), and Mom's own strength and determination, there is s a very, very strong possibility that Mom will be around long enough to see my children grow up and most importantly, for them to know her, make memories with her, and remember her when she does die, whenever that may be.
I will probably continue to write about this from time to time. Keep in mind that I'm writing from MY perspective, so I'm not speaking for my mother (I can't do that, since I'm not her). My posts will likely be about my thoughts, feeling, and experiences, and will have very little actual details about Mom. If you want details, ask my mom. Ditto for wanting to know her perspective on things. I'm not planning on giving any blow-by-blow accounts of her condition without her express permission.
Of course, Mom covets your prayers, as does the rest of my family. Prayers are always welcome.
I have no doubt that Mom was upset/worried about the deadly disease coursing through her body, and that her birthday had been RUINED (she had just heard from the oncologist that morning). However, outwardly she seemed much more concerned about how we were going to cope and about brainstorming ideas, most of which involved calling James' mom as soon as I knew this was "it" and hiring someone else to stay with Susanna until James' mom arrived here (she lives 4-5 hours away). We also discussed me pleading with my OB to induce a week early.
We ended the conversation not really resolving anything, but agreed that we had plenty of time AND I kept reminding her that LOTS of people give birth without having families nearby to support them. If they could do it, so could we.
So, in my mind, my thoughts for the next few hours sort of went like this (interspersed with crying jags, of course): "My mom has cancer...she's having major surgery right when I'm supposed to have my baby...this isn't fair, I want my Mommy...calm down, Patti, it's just a few weeks, you'll get through it...right, after all, I can get through this...it's just temporary. Gotta think of the long-term, put everything in perspective...Stop being so selfish...After all, she's the one with cancer and facing major surgery...HOLY CRAP! My mommy has cancer! People die from cancer! She might die! I can handle her not being around for a few weeks, but what if she DIES? MY MOM CAN'T DIE! (Ignoring the fact that I have a husband and numerous friends who have already lost a parent) My children have to know her! Deep breaths...calm down...this is breast cancer which has a much lower mortality rate than say, pancreatic cancer. Mom had a clean mammogram in August, this was probably caught early. She'll have the surgery, maybe chemo and radiation, and chances are that by this fall, it will all be over. Right. Be positive." What also helped (and continues to help) is the knowledge that Mom is no weak sister. She is a fighter, a survivor, and if breast cancer does kill her eventually, it will not be without her fighting it with all she has in her.
By the time James got home several hours later, I was mostly in control of myself. The next day, we found out that Greg would be coming two weeks early, anyway, so that issue was resolved, and Mom's exclamation of "God is good!" when I told her that news was priceless.
So, the spring was kind of sucky (most of all for Mom, since she was the patient) because it was (in my eyes, anyway) a roller coaster of good news, bad news, and the accompanying emotions. Mom has the rarest, most aggressive kind of breast cancer possible. It's actually highly irregular for a Caucasian woman in her 60s to get this type. But Mom's always been an achiever, and our family tends to be "health care trendsetters", anyway. She had four surgeries in three months (I'm going to respect her privacy and leave out the details) and began chemo in June. She's responding well to the chemo, and is part of a clinical trial for a promising new chemo drug. Things aren't the same as they were a year ago, but I'm adjusting to the "new normal" and thankful that between God's grace and healing, the miracle of modern medicine (and the gifts of her oncologist), and Mom's own strength and determination, there is s a very, very strong possibility that Mom will be around long enough to see my children grow up and most importantly, for them to know her, make memories with her, and remember her when she does die, whenever that may be.
I will probably continue to write about this from time to time. Keep in mind that I'm writing from MY perspective, so I'm not speaking for my mother (I can't do that, since I'm not her). My posts will likely be about my thoughts, feeling, and experiences, and will have very little actual details about Mom. If you want details, ask my mom. Ditto for wanting to know her perspective on things. I'm not planning on giving any blow-by-blow accounts of her condition without her express permission.
Of course, Mom covets your prayers, as does the rest of my family. Prayers are always welcome.
So what if my day was ruined? It was her BIRTHDAY (Part 1)
It was January 27, 2010. My mother's birthday. I was 36 weeks pregnant with Greg, and had a hankering for Taco Bell. So, I loaded Susanna into the car and drove through Taco Bell to get a double decker taco with guacamole and no tomatoes. I was pulling out of the drive-thru when my phone rang. I saw from the Caller ID that it was my mom. I answered, wished her Happy Birthday, and she asked if I was home. I said no, that Susanna and I were out and about. She asked me to call her when I got home. I agreed, and we hung up.
Immediately, my brain went into overdrive. My mom and I frequently talk on the phone while in the car, so her wanting to wait to talk until I got home meant that SOMETHING WAS UP. I latched onto the real possibility that she had bad news to tell me, and spent the next fifteen minutes (as I drove home and then put Susanna down for a nap) wondering what was wrong. Obviously not an emergency involving her, my dad, or my brother. If that had been the case, she would have told me immediately so I could head right to...wherever. My dad would probably be the one of call me if it involved him. Was something going on with Bart (my brother)? One of my aunts or uncles or cousins? A close family friend? I didn't really think about the possibility that what my mother had to share involved HERSELF. After all, she was in great health, exercised, ate well, and looked and acted like someone 10-15 years younger than her true age. I had no doubt that she would live well into her 90s and be around to watch my children grow up, maybe even be able to see Susanna and Greg get married to their respective spouses and meet her future great-grandchildren.
Within five minutes of calling my mom back, those expectations were suddenly and excruciatingly colored with doubt. Mom told me that she had breast cancer and was scheduled for an MRI the next day and a mastectomy on February 25, which just happened to be the day after my due date.
Once we hung up, I spent the next hour sobbing uncontrollably, and even once I calmed myself down, I cried on and off for the rest of the afternoon.
(To Be Continued)
Immediately, my brain went into overdrive. My mom and I frequently talk on the phone while in the car, so her wanting to wait to talk until I got home meant that SOMETHING WAS UP. I latched onto the real possibility that she had bad news to tell me, and spent the next fifteen minutes (as I drove home and then put Susanna down for a nap) wondering what was wrong. Obviously not an emergency involving her, my dad, or my brother. If that had been the case, she would have told me immediately so I could head right to...wherever. My dad would probably be the one of call me if it involved him. Was something going on with Bart (my brother)? One of my aunts or uncles or cousins? A close family friend? I didn't really think about the possibility that what my mother had to share involved HERSELF. After all, she was in great health, exercised, ate well, and looked and acted like someone 10-15 years younger than her true age. I had no doubt that she would live well into her 90s and be around to watch my children grow up, maybe even be able to see Susanna and Greg get married to their respective spouses and meet her future great-grandchildren.
Within five minutes of calling my mom back, those expectations were suddenly and excruciatingly colored with doubt. Mom told me that she had breast cancer and was scheduled for an MRI the next day and a mastectomy on February 25, which just happened to be the day after my due date.
Once we hung up, I spent the next hour sobbing uncontrollably, and even once I calmed myself down, I cried on and off for the rest of the afternoon.
(To Be Continued)
Friday, October 22, 2010
Seven Quick Takes Friday, Long Overdue Edition
1. Hi out there (waves and smiles guiltily)! OK, so it's been a while since I've posted. Probably all of my readers have stopped checking the blog and given up on me. But I'm back! And I have at least three future posts brewing! And maybe more! So, there. Come back, blog readers, come back!
2. Part of the reason that I haven't posted in so long is that I now have two children. And as those of you with two (or more) children know, 1+1 DOES NOT = 2. No, it's more like one plus one equals 20, or something like that. I had no clue how EASY my life was with only one child. Just like I had no clue how easy my life was before I had children.
3. In case you're curious, we are DONE with the procreation thing. I love Greg and Susanna, thank God for them every day, and am so delighted that we had two children. However, James and I mutually decided that for us, two children was enough. And that decision was made final in June at a urologist's office in Virginia Beach. (:
4. My children are very similar in some ways, but very different in others. They clearly resemble each other, are both somewhat stubborn, and have excellent appetites. But there are plenty of differences...An example is the sleep issue. Susanna was sleeping eight hours at night by the time she was six weeks old (don't hate me, please). I did not expect Greg to do THAT, because it's pretty rare. He did show promise, though; he was sleeping ten-hour stretches at three months. However, that screeched to a halt at the four-month mark, when he decided that it was way cooler to sleep for only two or three hours at a time. He's gotten better since then (we regularly get at least a 5-7 hour stretch each night), but I spent most of the summer in an exhausted haze, chugging Coke like it was water and craving sleep like an addict craves their next fix. It's a good thing he's cute and smiles adoringly at me several times a day. He's a happy baby, although his first few months were tough due to infant reflux. He still takes medicine for it, but it seems to be much more controlled now.
5. Besides the two children thing, this winter/spring/summer has been somewhat emotionally stressful for me and my family because someone I love dearly was diagnosed with a MAJOR HEALTH ISSUE in January. Two weeks before Greg's birth, as a matter of fact. I'll talk about that later, in much more detail. Don't worry; no one is dying (as far as we know).
6. I'm still doing my very very part-time chaplain gig for Bon Secours Hampton Roads. I love the work, I love the chaplains in both Spiritual Care departments (I work at two hospitals), and I love the hospitals themselves. The facilities are not nearly as nice as those at Riverside, but I've found that the staff is friendlier, more caring, and generally has a much higher view of chaplains than at Riverside. I'm seriously considering staying in the chaplaincy field and not going back to the local church. Problem is, the job market for chaplains is kinda tight, especially if you want to stay in one geographical area (which I do).
7. Susanna turned three at the end of August and started preschool a week later. She's attending a preschool run by our church, and we've been very pleased so far (and she loves it, which is also important). She is talking a blue streak and it seems like her vocabulary doubles every day. She is still not potty trained, but we're working on it and know that it will happen someday, and hopefully that someday will be soon! My parents say that she is the "spitting image" of me when I was her age. Susanna is, however, much much taller than I was. She has never gone below the 75th percentile for height, and at her three-year checkup was 39.5" tall and 36 lbs (both 90th percentile). She wears size 4 clothing easily and we're probably going to have to convert her bed from the toddler bed to the full-size bed (she has one of those convertible cribs that is currently in the "toddler bed" mode) within the next year.
And that's all for now, folks! Have a great Friday!
2. Part of the reason that I haven't posted in so long is that I now have two children. And as those of you with two (or more) children know, 1+1 DOES NOT = 2. No, it's more like one plus one equals 20, or something like that. I had no clue how EASY my life was with only one child. Just like I had no clue how easy my life was before I had children.
3. In case you're curious, we are DONE with the procreation thing. I love Greg and Susanna, thank God for them every day, and am so delighted that we had two children. However, James and I mutually decided that for us, two children was enough. And that decision was made final in June at a urologist's office in Virginia Beach. (:
4. My children are very similar in some ways, but very different in others. They clearly resemble each other, are both somewhat stubborn, and have excellent appetites. But there are plenty of differences...An example is the sleep issue. Susanna was sleeping eight hours at night by the time she was six weeks old (don't hate me, please). I did not expect Greg to do THAT, because it's pretty rare. He did show promise, though; he was sleeping ten-hour stretches at three months. However, that screeched to a halt at the four-month mark, when he decided that it was way cooler to sleep for only two or three hours at a time. He's gotten better since then (we regularly get at least a 5-7 hour stretch each night), but I spent most of the summer in an exhausted haze, chugging Coke like it was water and craving sleep like an addict craves their next fix. It's a good thing he's cute and smiles adoringly at me several times a day. He's a happy baby, although his first few months were tough due to infant reflux. He still takes medicine for it, but it seems to be much more controlled now.
5. Besides the two children thing, this winter/spring/summer has been somewhat emotionally stressful for me and my family because someone I love dearly was diagnosed with a MAJOR HEALTH ISSUE in January. Two weeks before Greg's birth, as a matter of fact. I'll talk about that later, in much more detail. Don't worry; no one is dying (as far as we know).
6. I'm still doing my very very part-time chaplain gig for Bon Secours Hampton Roads. I love the work, I love the chaplains in both Spiritual Care departments (I work at two hospitals), and I love the hospitals themselves. The facilities are not nearly as nice as those at Riverside, but I've found that the staff is friendlier, more caring, and generally has a much higher view of chaplains than at Riverside. I'm seriously considering staying in the chaplaincy field and not going back to the local church. Problem is, the job market for chaplains is kinda tight, especially if you want to stay in one geographical area (which I do).
7. Susanna turned three at the end of August and started preschool a week later. She's attending a preschool run by our church, and we've been very pleased so far (and she loves it, which is also important). She is talking a blue streak and it seems like her vocabulary doubles every day. She is still not potty trained, but we're working on it and know that it will happen someday, and hopefully that someday will be soon! My parents say that she is the "spitting image" of me when I was her age. Susanna is, however, much much taller than I was. She has never gone below the 75th percentile for height, and at her three-year checkup was 39.5" tall and 36 lbs (both 90th percentile). She wears size 4 clothing easily and we're probably going to have to convert her bed from the toddler bed to the full-size bed (she has one of those convertible cribs that is currently in the "toddler bed" mode) within the next year.
And that's all for now, folks! Have a great Friday!
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