Future Therapy

There are times when I do something as a mother, and mentally put some money aside for my kids' future therapy fund.  Although usually it's because of a mistake I made.  However, although this may put my younger kids in therapy, I've made a decision.

I'm not getting a baby book for Solveig.  I know.  Awful.

I got a baby book for Silje.  I filled out a lot of it, in fact.  She reminds me constantly that I have yet to complete her birthday pages up to age 5.

I got a book for David.  The year he was born was really crazy because Silje was still a baby herself, and he was not an easy baby.  So I made a valiant effort, but it isn't as filled in as Silje's.

I bought a book for Elias.  However, there's not much in it.  Maybe his name.  Maybe not even his whole name.  I probably just put "Eli" and got distracted.

So I'm throwing away all pretense that just because I buy a book for Solveig, that I will actually do something with it.  I'm saving my money and being real.  It's not going to happen.  If I let myself get into scrapbooking, maybe I'd have one of those.  Maybe someday I will.  Maybe.  Right now I have no more space for another craft in my house.  When all of my kids are gone and I take over a room bigger than my laundry room and outfit it with whatever crafting accessory I want, I will probably get into scrap booking.  Right now, if I start getting into it, I'd have to give up some sewing or fabric space.  That's just not going to happen.

For now, my kids' baby books will come in the form of this blog.  When they ask where their baby book is, I'm going to press the print button, wait about 3 days for it to finish printing, and then hand the book to them.  (Actually, I'd probably get one of those companies who turn blogs into books do it for me.  They'll be grown.  I'll have the money for that then, right?)

So future adult children: I'm sorry.  You will have no baby book.  It doesn't mean I love Silje the most.  It means I got real.  Please inquire about a payment plan from your therapist.

What Do You Think?

OK, I finally finished redesigning the blog.  Hopefully there won't be a new look everyday anymore.  I've been wanting to do it for awhile, and I was actually getting to the point of getting someone to do it for me, but I finally got it mostly how I want it.  I'll hopefully add some new pictures as they come along.  I also got a new widget for my store...so it's kinda having an ad on here.  It's for my store, though, so I think it's relevant.  I'd rather advertise something to do with our family than, say, Toyota or whatever random ad that blogger would assign me if I put up ads.  We don't even drive a Toyota. Not that I have anything against Toyota.  Shoot...now I feel like I'm making a political statement.

I moved the pictures/descriptions of family members to "About Us" near the top right of the page.  There are a few reasons for doing that, but if you want to see it, there it is.  It didn't disappear, just moved.

And since you've been so nice as to read that, I'll treat you to some pictures of Elias.  He's really into saying "CHEESE!" these days.

 

 

Bye!

A New Adventure

Watch out.  This blogger is about to go a bit picture crazy.

After 2 ebay auctions (the first ending with the seller saying "Oops, I forgot to set a reserve.  You weren't supposed to win that at that price."  That was an unpleasant experience.) I finally got my Canon 30d digital SLR camera.  I'm very impressed with the mint condition this used camera is in. It comes with a bunch of sweet things.  It's heavier than I thought it would be.

I've wanted an SLR ever since I took a class in photography in high school...(ahem) 13 years ago.  So with a bit of a rusty memory, I'm trying to remember all the cool things you can do with a camera like this.


It may take awhile to figure this out.

Fortunately, reading a manual is pretty easy to do while sitting and feeding a baby.


Right now there are about 200 pictures on here of whatever happens to be in front of the lens.


Now I have to get back on the ball with Nerdy Gerdy so I can save up for a photo editing software...

A new addiction is born.

On the Brain

It seems that Knut is not the only one in our house with skiing on the brain.  Silje drew this picture in anticipation for her ski league starting this next Saturday.  (Notice she Notice she won "1st place" in her picture and has a ribbon?) Knut ended up signing David up too.  I guess Knut "volunteered" to help coach so he figured, why not let David tag along.  Hopefully he'll listen well.

The kids are only asking about every 4 minutes if it's Saturday yet.

Solveig's Birth Story

I know some people love to read birth stories, and others feel it's something very private.  If you are the latter, this post is not for you.  I personally love to read stories of how women give birth.  I've heard one woman say that giving birth is such a huge life changing event that many women need to tell their stories as a means of mentally processing that life change.  I can completely relate to that.

I'm not sure when to say labor started.  As most of the readers know, I was in the hospital twice before the birth, thinking I was in labor.  Well, not totally true.  The first time, I was in intense pain, but it wasn't coming in waves like normal contractions, and I was more worried that something was wrong.  However, the monitors were picking up contractions, so we all assumed that I was in labor.  In hindsight, I was probably overworked (the day before I mopped the kitchen floor on my hands and knees...and completely felt the foolishness of that later) and dehydrated.

The second time, I timed contractions, and headed in.  However, when I got there, the contractions stopped, and the intense constant pain started.  I should have recognized it as dehydration to begin with, since I had a similar experience with Silje.  As soon as I got an i.v. everything returned to normal, and I returned home.  In tears that time.  (In my defense, I wasn't even thirsty.  I normally drink tons when I'm pregnant, but keeping those fluids up in the third trimester requires that I slosh around all the time.  If I'm I'm not sloshing, I'm usually dehydrated.)

Needless to say, knowing when labor started was tricky.  I was having painful contractions every 10 minutes for those weeks.  However, they'd slow when I went to sleep, and I could sleep through them.  They felt exactly like labor contractions, and they were regular during the day.  I normally have fast labors, so Knut and I were worried that when I did go into labor, it would happen too fast.

The morning of the 11th, I woke up at 4am with a contraction.  Contractions normally don't wake me up, so I took notice.  10 minutes later, I had another one.  After the third one, I got out of bed to see if I could do something different to make them go away.  First I went into the tub, which usually scares away the contractions.  However, this time, it didn't.  I went downstairs to the basement to watch a movie (I picked "White Christmas") while the rest of the house slept.  By 6am, they were much stronger, and still 10 minutes apart.  I remember swaying through a contraction in front of the warm corn stove in the basement, and thinking to Solveig "I'm going to meet you today.  Today is the day you'll be in my arms."  I was starting to allow myself to get excited again that this was "it."

Just before 7am, the kids and Knut came downstairs for breakfast, and I told Knut to clear the schedule for the day.  My bet was we'd be at the hospital by 10am.  The only thing we had planned for the day was taking the kids to the library to see Santa.  They'd be disappointed, but what do you do?

Our plan was to go to the hospital when contractions were 2-3 minutes apart.  We normally go in when they are 5 minutes apart because I do deliver fast, but we had done that twice and had come home twice, so we weren't planning on having that happen again.

So while I labored at home, Knut kept the kids away from me as much as possible.  When it was 9:30, and contractions were still 10 minutes apart, although they were hard and over a minute long, I told Knut to go ahead and take Silje and David to the library.  I couldn't seem to pass that "10 minute mark" and it was frustrating me.

Knut called from town and asked if he had time to pick up a tree.  There contractions were still not any closer together, so I told him to go ahead and pick one up.  Just when he and the kids got home, I was in the middle of an intense contraction and the kids were pulling on me and asking me for food, etc.  I could not handle it, and actually called Knut on his cell phone in the garage (he was untying the tree) and told him I could not in any way handle the kids and he needed to get inside. He said he'd be right in and I could help him with the tree.

Help him?  As he dragged the tree through the house, I was in another contraction and started crying.  I couldn't help him put the tree up.  He must have misunderstood.  I needed his help and had no help to give.  It was the first of emotional break downs, but I quickly got over it, and held the tree as he tightened it in the stand inbetween the contractions.  They were still 10 minutes apart, but now at least a hard 2 minutes long.  That gave spurts of 8 minutes to help.

The stupid tree kept tipping over, and I really did not want to deal with it anymore so I left for a different room and left Knut, the tree, and the kids.  He promised to keep them away from me.  I went to lay down, and didn't get a contraction for another 30 minutes, which made me cry again.  I thought labor was stalling again, and I couldn't handle this on again-off again feeling.  I had let myself believe once again that the baby was coming that day, and to be disappointed again was more than I could handle.

To my surprise, they started up again.  Every 10 minutes (are you getting tired of me saying "every 10 minutes"?  I was sure sick of it.)  However, they were still 2 minutes long, and it got to the point where I had to seize control of my brain.

I have had epidurals in all of my previous labors, however, not all of them had come in time.  My labor with Elias I was mentally prepared to not be able to get an epidural, and I did end up having time to get one in the end.  I only got to enjoy it for 10 minutes or so, and was kicking myself afterward that I had gotten it.  I could have just avoided the whole uncomfortable procedure and kept my ability to move around during labor, and afterbirth.

So for this one, I was determined to not get any drugs.  Not because I felt I was superwoman, but I had done it before, by accident, and I knew I could do it.  I knew it was in me.  I just had to take control of my brain and not let fear take over.  I was more afraid of losing control than the pain.

So as the contractions got more and more intense, I chanted this determination to myself.  I would not lose control.  I may not be able to control what happened below my neck, but my brain was completely mine.  I counted, I breathed, I did whatever I could to make myself feel like I was in control of my thoughts during this time.  I wasn't scared, and I didn't have to yell or moan like previous births.  I felt totally in control.

I even, at times told myself to let the pain come.  If I felt like I was inviting the pain, I felt like I was in control of it.  Inviting the pain to come helped.  I was glad I had read up so much on natural birth, because I learned so many tricks that really helped deal with the intensity of it all.

There were times I asked Knut to come be with me so I could lean on him.  However, by the time he shook a kid from his body to get to me, the contraction was over, and another one was still 10 minutes away and he was gone by the time it got there.  He really had no clue how intense things were getting.

Around 5pm, the contractions finally sped up to every 8 minutes.  They were crazy intense, and I was worried that at this rate, I couldn't deliver naturally.  If this was going to go on for hours and hours, I just couldn't do it.  8 minutes apart made me feel like the end was still so far away, and I just didn't think I could do it.  I told Knut to call his aunt to watch the kids, and we needed to get to the hospital.  I didn't care about the 2-3 minute apart goal anymore.  The contractions weren't close, but I needed a coach and didn't want to do it by myself anymore.  He had just put the supper in the oven for the kids, so he called his aunt, and she and her daughter said they'd head over.  The kids were eating supper by the time we'd arranged for everything to go.

I need to back up, though.  Around 5pm, I hopped back in the tub to help with the pain.  Knut came to check on me, and by then they were 8 minutes apart, and I told him it was time to go.  He was in the middle of getting supper ready, and I told him there was probably enough time to finish that as his aunt and cousin came over. I told him this with such certainty that he didn't question me, but with contractions only every 8 minutes, I don't think he was rushing.

While everything was being arranged to leave, I recorded the next contraction only 7 minutes later.  The one after that was only 6 minutes.  Then 5 minutes.  4 minutes.  By the time the contractions were right on top together, slurring into wave after wave crashing on me, I attempted to get out of the tub and dressed to go.  It was tricky.  I thought of calling Knut up to help me, but I knew that would only delay him getting things ready to go, and I wanted no delay at this point.  The few seconds between contractions I'd race to get another item of clothing on.  When I was ready, I waited at the top of the stairs for a the few seconds given to me between waves, and raced down in between them.

Knut helped me into the van, and for the first time that day, we were alone together as I was dealing with the contractions.  I felt I could relax because he was there.  I felt I could make noise because my kids weren't there and wouldn't get scared.  Knut was excited, and assured me that he thought with all of the laboring I had done that day, I'd at least be dilated to 5cm, and he was sure they wouldn't send me home this time.  I was more worried at this point that we'd get to the hospital in time, but I didn't tell him that.  The roads were icy, and the last thing I needed to worry about at that point was a crazy, scared driver.  All I told him was I'd better be at least at an 8.  He laughed, and held my hand.

As we drove closer to town, I felt the baby descend lower and lower, and I could no longer sit squarely on the seat, but had to lean over to one side, as if the birth canal was open and ready to push, although I felt no urge to push.  When we finally got to town and were about a mile from the hospital, I told Knut calmly that I was pretty sure we'd make it to the hospital, but I wasn't guaranteeing that we'd make it up to the birthing center.  He smiled, and told me that I was doing great.

When we got to the hospital, Knut parked in the emergency parking, and helped me inside.  The receptionist recognized immediately that things were going fast, as I couldn't even walk, and Knut helped me into a wheelchair.  I remember staring at it, trying to figure out how I could make my body sit down at this point.  It had no wish to sit down.  Squatting was more like it.  However, I somehow managed to sit, but leaned over to one side as far as I could.  The woman in the emergency room, where you check in, saw my position, and literally ran me upstairs, yelling ahead to a doctor to press the elevator button so it would be there when we arrived.  Knut left me at this point to go park the car, and said he would meet me upstairs.

When the nurse and I arrived in a birthing room, one lone nurse came to help me out of the wheelchair.  The floor was empty, and only one reserve nurse was there in case someone showed up.  I grabbed onto the side of the bed.  I told her I was feeling a lot of pressure and thought the baby was coming soon.  That sent her into motion quickly as soon there were 2 nurses there, and I think one was assigned just to repeatedly page the doctor on call.

When I finally had the gown on and the monitors beeping, the nurse checked me and announced "she's complete and ready to push" just as Knut entered the room.  Seriously, he looked like he just saw a ghost when she said that.  I've never seen that look on his face before.  I had labored by myself for most of the day and he had no idea it was this far along.

At this point my water had not broken, and one nurse told the other that she thought that was the only thing holding the baby in.  I still had no desire to push, and so I just lay there breathing.  They told me to try not to push until the doctor got there, but I had no intention of obeying.  I didn't feel like I needed to push yet, but I thought it was stupid to wait for the doctor.  For the purpose of avoiding tears, or some medical reason I would, but I figured a nurse could catch if she needed to.

We were all relieved to see Dr. N run in in his sweatshirt and jeans from home.  Knut said the only thing that Dr. N got on completely was shoe covers when my water broke and the urge to push came.  He got his arms into the paper gown when the baby started to crown.

I honestly don't remember pushing.  In fact, I know I consciously didn't push.  As silly as this sounds, I just let the baby come out.  I endured her coming out, but I certainly didn't mentally push her.  She came out in one contraction and I just let it happen.  I don't mean to sound all calm about it.  I wasn't at the time.  My eyes were closed and I didn't open them for a minute or two after she was out.  I'm told her cord was wrapped several times around her legs, binding her up.  Dr. N. held her up in a little ball and said she was a girl.  Knut cut the cord, and they lay her on me right away.  When she was placed on my chest, I finally could get my eyes open, and I saw my little girl.  We had been in the hospital exactly 18 minutes when she was born.

As the afterbirth was delivered, someone gave me a shot of pitocin in my leg to help me contract.  Solveig began to nurse and she had a perfect latch on her first try, which I had never experienced before.  She sucked for almost an hour, and the nurses just let her lay on me and didn't ask to take her to weigh her or anything until she had stopped.  I was so thankful for that time.  I didn't get to hold Elias for many hours because of his breathing issues.  It was very healing for me to be able to hold her for so long without any pressure to let her go.  However, as the adrenaline was finally setting in, I was shaking all over.

As they were weighing her and checking her vitals, I kept passing blood clots which worried the nurse.  I couldn't remember if that was normal or not.  I had been anemic during all of my pregnancies, and knew this could happen, but it hadn't happened before.  She called the doctor, and he put me on some drug to clamp down the uterus to stop bleeding.  It was a miserable drug.  A "necessary evil" as my midwife friend called it when I talked to her by phone the next day. (She had recently given a mother that same drug, and knew how uncomfortable it could make someone.)   It messed with my body temperature and that whole evening, I went from sweating through my gown to uncontrollable chills.  However, it did what it was supposed to do and stopped the bleeding.  However, my hemoglobin was so low that my doctor offered me a blood transfusion, which I turned down since he didn't insist and the whole idea freaked me out.  He said if I didn't take it, I would just have a longer recovery, and be on lots of iron.  He said it would be about a month before I was at full strength again.

Knut and I were both comfortable with the decision to avoid the transfusion and just have me "take it easy" longer.  They kept me an extra night in the hospital so I could rest.  Normally Knut was racing me out of the hospital (he hates hospitals), but with his Grandpa failing in that same hospital on a different floor, he felt that home would be too stressful for me and quickly agreed to me staying longer.  After about a week at home, we noticed my color returning well.

Solveig Joy was 7 lbs, 5 oz.  In the first 2 weeks she had exactly 2 diapers that weren't poopy, and was the only one of my kids who never ever looked jaundice-y.  She is a champion nurser, and is putting on weight quickly.  I'm so happy that I decided to go natural this time around, and found this to actually be my easiest labor.  Each woman, each baby, each labor is so different, and this one is a big example of that!  I was just surprised that having a drug free labor was less painful than any epidural labor I had in the past.  It was truly all a state of mind and controlling the fear factor.  For me, this was definitely the way to go!

Ahhhh....

Well, after all of the "taking it easy" before Solveig was born, going through the birth and following anemia, celebrating Christmas and New Years, all with the help of my wonderful husband, my in-laws, friends, and lastly my parents who flew back home last night, I'm finally on my own with the 4 kids.

I used to get so nervous the first time I was left alone with a newborn.  A newborn and a 15 month old (Silje and David) terrified me.  Even after Elias was born, I was nervous to be left alone with all 3.  However, as much as I've enjoyed all the help, I'm so excited to be on my own this morning with all 4.

My parents caught us up from the holiday back-up that was our messy house.  Yesterday the tree was taken out since it was no longer drinking water, and most of the decorations came down much sooner than they normally do.  I actually woke up this morning at 8am, and snuck in a shower before Knut headed off to work.  I had a hot breakfast of cream of wheat (the best anemia-buster out there, in my opinion).

Before I let myself get overwhelmed, I started a list of all the things that needed to get done.  Picking up the back hallway, cleaning out the diaper bag, washing diapers, bathing Solveig, etc.  One by one, everything got done.  We even did a few fun things this morning.

I finally completed stamping and stuffing all of the Christmas letters.  (One of the many great things about having a baby, is that you always have a legitimate excuse for being late...even if you're normally late without a baby.)  The room that the tree was in got vacuumed, and I dared move the couch back to where it belonged.  (It's not that heavy at all.  The kids could have moved it.)


We finished the broken crayon project.  When my parents were here, Mom and Silje started this project that I was inspired by this site to do.  Well, Ginny let her kids paint with the melted crayons.  I let them cool and harden. You basically sort broken crayons into a silicone baking mold, melt them in the oven, let them cool, and you have fun shaped funky crayons.  Eat your heart out,Crayola.  Elias will have a blast with these.  Well, he may have to fight his older brother and sister for them.



They came out multicolored, but the kids just love them.


Fun snowmen to warm up the day.


This chunky girl got a much needed bath in the sink.  Did I tell you that when we went to her 2 week check up, she had gained a whole pound from her birth weight?  My babes come out small, but they get fat quick.  Just the way I like it.


Ahhh...all clean and changed.

I will admit that the last few weeks, the kids (especially the boys) have watched way too much television and we haven't been regulating it like we normally do.  Today is no exception.  I figured that my first day "back at work" wasn't the best time to cut the t.v. off cold turkey.  Silje's aching to start school again, but I think I'll put it off until next Monday.  However, I think there's no harm in letting her do some Chinese on the computer.

I'm not totally back to normal.  My tummy is still pretty rubbery, and I have no intention of exercising whether skiing or yoga until a full 6 weeks has passed.  I'm actually getting excited for that too.  I cannot tell you how good it feels to feel productive and useful again.  I know.  Resting and taking care of an infant is productive and useful.  Maybe I should say it feels good to feel more like myself again.

Baptism Sunday

This morning Solveig was baptized, and it was so special.  With lots of thought and prayer, Knut and I have brought all of our kids to be baptized as infants.  While I don't believe that baptism is merely a symbol, there are many special traditions surrounding baptism that have no "magic" but do point to Christ.  OK, some of them are just fun.  For instance, I have a special Norwegian broach that I wear to each baptism.  That's just fun.

Other things, like this gown aren't "magical" but serve a purpose.  I'm reminded of the pillars set up in the old testament to serve as a reminder for something God has done.  Something that when you walk past it, your children ask "why is that there?" it is an opportunity to remind us how much God has done for us.



This gown is one of the 2 gowns that have been passed down in Knut's family.  His dad's family has a gown and his mom's family has a gown.  This one is his mom's family's gown which I've always had our girls wear because it's lacier.  His dad's family gown is still lacy, but it seem manlier because Knut and his dad Richard were both baptized in it.

Both gowns are well over 100 years old.  Yes, I am terrified when my children wear it that they will poop all the way up the back.  I'm always nervous that my child will be the child to absolutely destroy one of these priceless heirlooms.  Still, I'm so grateful they have each gotten to wear one, because it's a "pillar" in our modern times to remind ourselves of God's faithfulness.

I look at this gown in awe of all the intricate lace and stitches.  I can only imagine the work it took to make it.  The gown that Solveig (and Silje, when she was little) wore was first worn by Knut's grandma's great-aunt.  I think about how many generations that goes back.  The other gown that the boys wear...we're not even sure how old, exactly, it is.  Think about that for a minute.  That side of the family has no memory of ever not bringing their children to the Lord.  That is a truly profound thing.  Having no memory of not knowing Christ in a family.

What a testimony of God's faithfulness.  I know for a fact that my great-grandpa on my dad's side was agnostic.  He believed there was a God, but wanted nothing to do with Him.  While I haven't researched or would be able to defend the idea of generational sin, I do know for a fact there is something very real called generational pain.

It's not a matter of Knut's family was perfect and mine was not.  I just have a glimpse of what a family looks like when they shake their fist at God.  Some turn from that, and turn to God.  Generational sin/pain is never too great for God to overcome.

Growing up, I'd hear these amazing testimonies of living as a drug addict or in a life of crime, and suddenly and dramatically being redeemed to a new life in Christ.  The fact that my history was only knowing Christ seemed "boring."  The older I've gotten, the more amazed I am by the grace given that as far as my memory goes back, I can only remember knowing Christ.  Not that it's better than the other type of testimony.  I think that I've learned to be thankful for the testimony God has given me.


The sponsors this year were our friends Tony and Carolyn. It was funny because I almost put our boys in the same outfit their Sam wore, and she almost put Sam in the same sweater my boys wore, and Carolyn and I wore the same sweater but in different colors. All by accident. This proves that both of us are addicted to Target, and we must have similar taste! We must be friends!


We were so glad all Solveig's grandparents could be there!

"Oldefar" and Great-grandma R. were both there.


However, this was the first family event where Great-grandma M was there without Great-grandpa.  I'll admit, there were times when I looked over, and felt his abscence very acutely.  I can only imagine how that was for Knut.  One of his biggest regrets is that even though Solveig and Grandpa were in the hospital at the same time, they never got to meet this side of Heaven. 


Look at my family. We are so blessed!

Snow Days

These days are full of snow and wind and all sorts of winter-y things.  As the inches of snow stack up outside, we've been tucked inside our home with my parents visiting from Arizona.

We had a tea party.

We've been enjoying our amaryllis in full bloom.  I love fresh flowers in the house all the time!  However, the height went a little nuts here!


Occasionally, someone will venture outside.

I guess you can take the man out of Arizona, but you can't take Arizona out of the man.  (Papa finds very few occasions to put away the shorts.)

It's Been Too Long

since I've posted a picture of Solveig.  She changes every day, you know.



Here's her wearing her mama-made Christmas dress.


My two girls in their dresses.  (Silje's was not mama-made.)



Nothing beats a nap with a newborn!


So far her personality is...sleepy. She sleeps a lot, and we whip out the camera almost every time her eyes are open, which isn't often. I'm not sure if I remember my other kids sleeping this much, but maybe that's because I have a 2 year old who doesn't stop moving. Remembering them like this gets pretty tricky!

Saying Goodbye

This isn't Solveig, but David.  This is one of my favorite pictures of him as a baby.  He's being held with the large hands of his Great-Grandpa.

My children have been blessed that up until now they've had 7 living great-grandparents, 4 of whom live close by and come to birthdays and other family events. 

This great-grandpa is Knut's maternal grandpa.  His favorite thing was to hold babies.  He loved holding babies.  (He has Silje in this picture.)  For as long as I've been a part of this family, he was blind.  I remember asking him once if his glasses helped even a little bit.  With a twinkle in his eyes, he handed me his glasses.  I looked through them, and saw they were just glass.  I asked him why he wore glasses that didn't do anything.  He grinned and said "They make me look handsome!"  Well, I couldn't argue with that.

Great-grandpa M. went to be with Jesus last night.  While we kinda knew it was the beginning of the end for him, getting that phone call in the middle of the night seemed to still catch us off guard.  Please be in prayer for Knut and his family.  This is the first death close to the family he's ever dealt with before.  Grandpa M. will be very, very missed.  As our hearts ache, we're trying to remember that Grandpa can now see again.  He can now walk without any assistance.  He gets to hold the little great-grandbaby of his that we lost in pregnancy last year.  (Something Knut's mom pointed out to me that touched my heart.)  Most importantly, he gets to worship at the very throne of Christ.  One can only imagine how Jesus' birth is celebrated there.

Getting Antsy

I'm so very thankful that Solveig is such a good baby thus far, especially with my slower recovery because of my anemia this time around.  So far, our new normal is me feeding her on demand during the day, as often as she wants.  Sometimes it's every hour.  Sometimes every 3.  She's a great eater, besides the fact she has a tough time staying awake for feedings.  We're working on that.  Her  super-soaked diapers every 2 hours shows me that she's eating plenty though!  I haven't always embraced the feed-on-demand philosophy, but once I figured out that is the easiest and less stressful way to go for me, and rid me of all of my supply issues I had when I did scheduled feedings, I'm all for it.

At night I restrict her to eating no more than every 2 hours, which has come down to giving her a pacifier every once in awhile.  She loves the paci, which I'm so so grateful for, as my last 2 babies thought they were poison.  It's so nice to have a tool that works to easily soothe. 

I've been very disciplined to take at least 2 naps a day.  Solveig and I snuggle in on the couch for a good 2 hours every morning and afternoon.  With all my supplements, and all of the rest, I'm feeling so much better, and a lot faster than I anticiapated.  It's hard, though, when you do start feeling better, to continue that rest, and continue to be disciplined to see the healing process all the way through.  I'm not sure who exactly is getting more antsy for me to be back on my feet: me or Knut. 

We both have cabin fever, and have it bad.  I haven't been out of the house except to go to the hospital and church in about a month.  I told Knut that I am planning a trip to Target on Monday for some last minute Christmas shopping.  It will just be Solveig and me going, but now I hear there are chances for snow.  I think if I can't get out of the house for this little treat of a Target run I've been looking forward to for days, I think I may cry.  I don't want to do any major grocery shopping or a whole morning of errands, but I just need to get out of the house so bad.  I did get to church this morning, and that completely wore me out.  It was well worth it, I think.

Knut is getting very antsy to start training for this year's Birkie, and it's been tough these last few days for him, as the weather conditions are ideal for skiing and he's stuck inside making peanut butter and jelly sandwhiches.  We keep reminding each other that it won't be too much longer, and each day I see huge improvements.  Over the last weeks that he's been kinda in charge of seeing everything done with the house and kids, he says he has a new respect for single parents out there. 

The kids are getting antsy for Christmas.  They've stopped asking for things, and have started pulling together presents to give each other.  I find that very sweet.  I can't believe Christmas is already this week!  There is so much I'd like to be doing right now that I'm holding myself back on.  There are a few decorating things around the house I'd like to do, but just can't muster up the energy for.  I'm a little disappointed about that because this is our year at home and not in Phoenix, and I really wanted to do it up big. 

I also have 0 Christmas cookies.  I made one batch of sugar cookies, but those got eaten up.  Knut made a batch of Ritz-cracker-peanut-butter-sandwiches-dunked-in-almond-bark cookies, and those got eaten up too.  I told Knut I think I'll feel less guilty about not having Christmas cookies if we look on it this year as a winter long activity.  I don't want to miss out on any of the cookies, but maybe we'll just make sure we get through one batch of each kind by the end of winter.  He thought that was a great idea.  That way, we're still getting to eat the cookies, and we're just removing the deadline of Christmas.

All in all...pretty much everyone in this house, myself most of all, is ready for me to be back at 100% again.  However, no matter how I wish it, I'm just not there yet.

Home Again

Yesterday we got home safe and sound.  Little Solveig (prounounced soul-vay) is doing so well.  She eats like she's been doing it for years and has the tiniest little cry.

Her birth was quite a whirlwind. I might type out a blog-worthy birth story sometime.  The cliff notes version is she was born exactly 18 minutes after we arrived at the hospital after an entire day of 10 minute apart contractions at home.  It was intense, but as my first planned natural birth, (I've had unplanned natural...where I planned on getting an epidural but the baby just came too fast.) I felt so mentally in control and it went so so well.  I didn't need any stitches and she's just perfect.

I did have some complications in the hours after the birth as my uterus' afterbirth contractions just weren't doing the job.  I lost more blood than I realized and that left me very anemic. If I'm really good about resting and taking my pills, I should have somewhat normal hemoglobin levels in about a month.  They kept me an extra day at the hospital just to let me rest more, and I sure appreciated it. 

So I'm back home now, and grateful more than ever that Knut is not harvesting right now!  Things are pretty slow around here, except for the fact that Knut's maternal grandfather was in the hospital the same time that we were, and will probably have to be moved to a nursing home at this point.  The stress of that situation weighs on the family, especially the extended family, but what a good time to have a baby to bring an added dose of joy in this season.

So unfortunately I'll have to rely pretty heavily on Knut for just a bit longer.  Although as he was on his way out the door this morning to run some errands, leaving me just with Solveig, we realized that it was nice that we didn't have to worry about me going into labor while he was gone.  The feeling of being a walking time bomb has left.

Plus, Christmas is just around the corner, and traditionally we hang out at Knut's parent's house quite a bit with family in town.  I'll have lots of help, and we only live 5 miles down the road if I need to take Solveig and spend some time in quiet.  Just after Christmas my parents will be coming to help take care of me, and so I doubt I'll have anything close to my full chore load until next year.  Right now, the only 2 people I need to take care of are Solveig and me.  The kids will be back home from Grandma's this afternoon, and I'll definitely be involved with that, but Knut will be here to get snacks, and help with cooking and laundry, etc. 

The kids are just so in love with Solveig.  It will be nice to all be home together now.  I'll have to post some more pictures soon, but I'll be honest...it's not a high priority now.  We ordered my new-to-us camera finally that I've been saving for and should be here in the next few days. (Digital SLR Canon 30D...ooooo....ahhhhhh) Then you'll be smacked with picture overload!  Until then, I'm just going to soak in this little one all to myself, nap along with her, and eat a bunch of iron.

Solveig Joy

We are excited to introduce our little girl Solveig Joy.  She was born around 7:00 PM on 12/11/10 weighing 7 lbs 5 oz and measuring 20.5 inches long.

Mom and baby are doing great.