Restricted and Released

At our sonogram last Wednesday we learned that we officially have another "Growth Restricted" baby. Intra-Uterine Growth Restricted is a term to define any baby below the 10th percentile. This percentile is the average of two measurements: the head and the abdomen. December Baby is now in the 8th percentile (head was 12% and abdomen was 2%). I was not shocked to learn this.

Our doctor has amazing bedside manner and was extremely kind. We really don't know why this happened again. Where we go from here is to the doctor, weekly sonograms with the specialist, and two or three more appointments with my OB before delivery. We will be scheduling delivery for the week before Christmas. It all seems somewhat cold and strange, but we are excited. Other than small size the baby is totally healthy. I cannot ask for more.

Also this week I had this urgency to learn something of our foster children. I debated whether or not to contact the foster mother who they went with after leaving our home. I finally decided to take a chance and hope that she didn't think I was a creepy stalker.

I will be forever grateful to her for her kind response. She told of our foster daughter doing well in therapy and in preschool. Of our foster daughter having fewer outbursts of tantrums. She told of our foster son "asserting his independence" and I could just picture him getting into all sorts of mischief like only a soon-to-be two year old boy can. She told of him still enjoying snuggles after his nap.

My immediate response was hard to describe. In some bizarre way I was hurt. I had pushed for our foster daughter to be in some sort of therapy or counseling and was rebuffed by the caseworker. I was told that "not all children in foster care are in therapy". I was sad that I was not the one who was snuggling this sweet boy after his naps and disciplining him when he misbehaved. More than anything I realized just how sad I was, and how much I really missed these kids.

After praying about this while I painted that evening I was hit with two things. First of all, I was being selfish. Second of all, I had not released this irrational hope that some day our foster son would return to us. The selfish part was easier to let go of. By the time I went to bed that evening I no longer held onto those feelings, but was instead SO SO grateful for the improvement in our foster daughter and grateful to her new foster parents for working hard and poring so much of themselves into her. The second part was not as easy for me. I had never dealt with grieving for someone I loved so dearly, let alone releasing them into an unknown future.

As I fell asleep that night I was praying for release.

And I dreamed.

Those of you who have read my blog before know that I have occasionally had dreams that I believe have significant meaning. This was my dream.

I was in a sort of hospital waiting area for adoptive parents. Many babies and children were being brought in but I was not being chosen for any of these children. Then a call came in that a newborn baby was going to be dropped off. I rushed to the entrance of the building with the "director" of this program.

It was cold outside and as the automatic doors opened a blast of freezing air rushed into the building hitting me in the face. Lying on the ground was a newborn baby, naked except for a heavily soiled diaper and a blanket that the wind had whipped off of him. I rushed outside to scoop up to the baby and comfort him in my loving arms.

The director and I went back to his office. He sat at his computer and began searching for a family for this baby. As I stood holding and comforting this precious baby who I already loved I got so angry!! Didn't the director see that I was the perfect mother for this baby? Didn't he see how much I loved this little boy?

When I shouted something along those lines in my frustration at the director he just calmly turned and looked at me. He said, "No. I have already chosen a child for you. But this is not him. You need to wait."

I think even within my dream I realized that this director was no ordinary man, but God, or an angel of God.

It dawned on me that this is what I was doing with our foster son. I rushed in to take things into my own hands and ended up hurt and resentful when things didn't go my way.

I woke up with an amazing feeling of peace and a "God-like" understanding of the situation. Eight months after our foster son left us physically I was finally able to release him emotionally.

I won't even look into what the messenger in my dream meant when he said he had already chosen a child for me. I am just so so grateful to God for this dream, to the foster family who has had the children longer than we did, and am trusting in the Lord to be with them wherever they go.

A Turn of Events

At my 20 week ultrasound we saw an awesome baby in the 43rd percentile. The Maternal-Fetal specialist doctors said we couldn't have a more perfect looking baby. Because of my history of Intra-Uterine Growth Restriction (IUGR) with Magdalena they recommended we come back in another 6 weeks just to be on the safe side.

Last week I headed into my ultrasound appointment excited for another peek at our cutie. I saw this amazing baby, so perfect with it's little heart thumping away. The tech gave our baby an estimated weight of 1 pound 10 ounces which sounded great to me! After the routine check the ultrasound tech said that one of the two doctors will be in to chat with me shortly.

The doctor kindly informed me that unfortunately our baby has dropped to about the 12th percentile. I was very shocked and very disappointed. Not crushed. Not devastated. I now have to go back every 2 1/2 weeks for ultrasounds to check on baby's growth.

The doctor suggested that I add about 250-500 calories to my diet. I have added about 350 by drinking Ensure boost (I really feel like an old person), but I'm willing to do it for baby. The bummer is that the doctor said it may not even help, but it is worth a shot.

At this point they have no idea why the baby would drop so drastically in percentile. We already knew the baby would be on the smaller side since the baby will be delivered around 36 weeks. Our prayer for baby is similar to our pray for Magdalena, "Grow, grow, grow!"

As strange as it may sound, I am grateful for my experience with Magdalena because so much of my pregnancy with her was spent in fear of the unknown. Since she came through the pregnancy and delivery small but mostly healthy I am not fearful for this baby. More than anything the thought of all the extra appointments just makes me feel tired.

I am remaining optimistic and joyful despite the small size of the baby and the fact that the baby is breech (another wild one?). We were prepared for the fact that we will be having another C-Section so that also takes away a lot of the fear that I had in preparation for Maggie's birth. All in all, I am grateful for the opportunity to carry another child and am trusting God in all circumstances.

Perfect Parenting

Since school has started and the "back to school" excitement has worn off for most parents and children, I've started to hear a lot of complaints about what is expected on the parents' end of schooling. Things like: each child has a different colored folder that they are supposed to bring back to school on a certain day of the week; the child has to wear a specific color for a specific day of the week; they don't to any Science, History, or Geography until 3rd grade; there are so many papers to remember to sign every night; we are so busy with AWANA, sports, gymnastics, music, etc.; once you have multiple kids in school the paperwork seems to be insurmountable; and the list goes on.

I am the only mom in my mom's group who homeschools. When the other moms are talking of these things they look at me and throw up their hands and say, "I don't know HOW you homeschool!!" They go on to list things that I must be in order to survive homeschooling: super-organized, extremely patient, "super-mom" to get everything done, practically perfect.

The fact is, I am none of those things! I don't have to remember for my children to wear a specific color for "spirit week", I don't give them different colored folders for each day of the week, and the only extracurricular activity we do currently is piano lessons one day a week and our piano teacher comes to our house. We do Science, History and Geography every day in addition to Bible and a Bible memory verse for each week.

I'm not super-organized, but I do try to have some semblance of order to our day. The kids are responsible for their own papers. I will punch holes in them but they are responsible for putting their papers into their folders.

I am not extremely patient. Just the other day I got frustrated and yelled at Anne for repeatedly saying that 1+1=11. I showed her physical objects and said, "If you have one bottle of paint and I give you one more, how many do you have?" And she said, "11". AGGGHHHHHHH!!!! So frustrating!! I definitely yelled at her in my frustration. No, certainly not patient.

I am not super-mom. If you could peek into my house this morning you would find dirty dishes, dirty bathrooms, toys and books all over the floor, unmade beds and a very untidy house. Because the reality is this - I can't do everything. Today we are going to be starting school late in order to catch up on housework.

I am not practically perfect. I have many parenting flaws; I have many teacher flaws. All that to say that I am glad that we are homeschooling. Despite the frustrations I really do enjoy teaching the children. Yes, our home is messy. Yes, I get frustrated. Yes, I am tired.

Before school started I made a sign that said, "Grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord. To Him be the glory." Has our Hess family done that so far this school year? Yes, I believe we have. We still have a long way to go to complete the year, but I have seen progress in our lives so far. I am hopeful that we will continue to grow closer to the Lord throughout this year. We don't know what the future holds, but we do know that we are enjoying living life together in these simple, everyday moments.