Anne is 16!

In early November Anne turned 16 years old. It’s surreal that I have a child who is on the cusp of adulthood. Sixteen is a great, if complex, age; old enough to begin to understand the challenges of their rapidly approaching adulthood but young enough to still enjoy their fleeting childhood. 

While this year has ramped up in intensity the amount of daily appointments, errands, and activities, I wanted to make Anne’s 16th birthday celebration very special. She and her friends are very interested in house plants, so I came up with the idea of a succuelent planting party. Throughout the summer, anytime we were out thrifting we looked for interesting and beautiful containers. The end result was 12 really fun and unique pieces. 

Since Anne skipped a grade most of her friends can drive so they drove over to our house after their half day of school. The girls ate, chatted, sang, laughed and all of it was done at a high volume. They were a delightful group of girls, much better teenagers than Trent or I were. 

Anne continues to enjoy and be extremely gifted at art. She is considering what she would like to do in the future, and art education has risen to the top of her career choices. While she would love to be a book illustrator we are walking the balance of encouraging a talented child but also being practical about the cost of college and the career options available with your degree. The balance of guidance and encouragement is a new and tricky one we’re trying to navigate. 

Anne also enjoys reading. She has always been good at it and it came easily to her. Anne is also funny: she currently has a voice that makes me laugh literally everytime she says anything in it. She’s good at using it to diffuse my irritation. 

Teaching a teen to drive is more nerve wracking than I expected. Most of the time she does great, until she doesn’t. It will take some time but I’m looking forward to having another driver in the house!

Happy sweet 16, Anne! We love you! I still owe her a coffee date that I hope to do soon. 

Mary is Two Months

Miss Mary Jubilee is two months old. It’s been another month of difficulty. My optimism for the way things were going in our feeding journey at the end of month one was a bit premature. 

Hans loves her so much! He calls her Mare-me, and Piddy drl (pretty girl)

I thought we had turned a corner. Unfortunately, it seemed like she would have 4 days in a row where she could nurse well, and then 2 days where it was as if she’d never breastfed in her life and couldn’t latch. 

After a long stretch of her inability to latch I was feeling depressed. I had done a lot of crying and felt like a prisoner chained to the wall in my room via breast pump. Then my mother-in-law mentioned a hands free cordless pump that my cousin by marriage is using. That was the first step in helping my mental state. Then I saw a lactation consultant who gave me some valuable help with latching. We started using a specific nipple shield, and worked on positioning and stretching. She discovered Mary has significant tightness on one side which would make it uncomfortable for her to turn her head to one side. I was alarmed that Mary had not gained much weight and so the lactation consultant helped me develop a strategy for helping Mary. We breastfeed first and concentrate on a good deep latch. She usually nurses for 30 minutes on her easy side. Since I really don’t have the luxury of sitting all day to feed her, I’ve been pumping on the other side while she eats. Then I bottle feed her an additional ounce. Mary had also started sleeping through the night at 7.5 weeks old but the lactation consultant crushed my happy sleeping by telling me that babies receive about 1/3 of the calories in their night feeding. Since Mary needs those calories I wake her at 3 am to feed her. The first couple times I breastfed her but she began getting furious at being woken so now I pump and she can sleep while she drinks a bottle of fresh milk. 

(She does the biggest yawns!)

Mary just had her 2 month check and weighed 6 lbs 13 ounces, a gain of 9 ounces this month. Height had no change at 20.5 inches. Her regular doctor was out sick so we saw the nurse practitioner. She was concerned that Mary’s belly was quite distended. We’re keeping a close eye on that as well and will follow up with our regular doctor at month three. 

Ruth loves to hold baby Mary! 

Mary also saw the chiropractor and had a big adjustment. She certainly wasn’t happy to have that tightness worked on but we have the best chiropractor (Dr. Sonja Powers of Lifestyle Chiropractic and Wellness in Willow Street) who has done miracles for several of my children. 

Some of her feeding and weight issues have felt so overwhelming that I’ve had less time to simply enjoy the sweetness of a newborn. With our other babies I was able to trust my body and baby working together. Trent has reminded me that the Lord may be trying to teach me something through all of this. My instant response was that I didn’t want to learn anything new. 

Still got that newborn scrunch. 

Romans 5:3-5 says “Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 4 perseverance, character; and character, hope. 5 And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”

Hans kissing her fingers is too cute. 

While my current suffering is nothing compared to what some of my friends are experiencing at this moment (cancer, eye surgery, mother in hospice, death of their baby) it is still something challenging that impacts my daily life, especially with an already busy schedule. And the Lord is teaching me new things. I’m willing to humble myself and learn. Learn that I don’t know everything about babies, that I am weak and he is strong, that He really does love me and will lift me up.

Daddy and Mary look like they’re having a serious conversation. 

My goal for Mary in month three is to be intentional to enjoy these snuggles with our last baby. I hope that I’ll be less stressed by the things I cannot control and revel in the miracle of a new baby. I’m looking forward to seeing true smiles this next month. 

An almost smile! Happy 2 months tiny baby! We love you Miss Mary Jubilee! 

I love her big eyes. I’m so interested to find if they will stay blue or change color. She has pretty bad cradle cap and is losing the hair on top of her head. I’ve been working on the cradle cap with my lavender hydrosol followed up with my lavender infused oil and a cradle cap brush. Mary loves this routine, but who wouldn’t love a nice head massage before bed?! No wonder she could sleep through the night. 

Even though she’s not smiling she always has such a beautiful, pleasant look as if she’s about to smile. I’ve no doubt month 3 will be full of gorgeous smiles and her siblings will be fighting over who makes her smile the most. 

Maggie is 13!

Another teenager! Maggie turned 13 in August. I’m glad I am so delayed in writing this as I can celebrate the growth I’ve seen in her since becoming the OAH (Oldest Available Hess) with both Anne and Abbey at Linville this year.

Maggie & cousin Georgia at Muddy Run, July 2023

To go back to August, we got to have a very fun pool party for her birthday. We don’t do parties every year since there are so many kids in the family. We try to do a party for “big” birthdays: 1, 5, 10, 13, and 16. It just so happens we have three big birthdays this year, and Maggie’s party kicked off our celebration of life. 

Maggie is the toddler whisperer. Whenever there’s a preschool age kiddo you can usually find her there. Sometimes I think Hans thinks Maggie is his mom and he would choose her over me. 

Sadly it was shockingly and unseasonably cold for her pool party but that didn’t stop the kids from swimming. We rented the pool for 2 hours and it was the easiest birthday party I’ve ever hosted. Probably because it didn’t matter how messy I left my house. I made all of Maggie’s requested desserts. Actually, she and Abbey made the one everyone liked the best (and the two of them happened to win 1st place in a baked French toast competition at church recently). 

Maggie continues to enjoy art. She won two second place ribbons at the Lampeter fair this year for her drawings as well as a first place for a hand sewn doll. 

She has taken on a tremendous role in our family this year. With five younger siblings, including a brother who is totally obsessed with her and a newborn sister, she has many duties at home. She has her school work to attend to, but also babysits for me several times per week as our other kiddos have many appointments and Heidi has ballet weekly on Tuesday mornings. 

I wanted to encourage Maggie to try a new sport or some activity to get her with her peers and making friends. She is uninterested in sports, but as I mentioned, loves art. I remembered a Christian woman in the southern end posting on a homeschool page about an art class with a Christ-centered approach. I knew I was late in asking but wanted to reach out to see if she had space for this school year or if I should wait. It seemed God ordained that she had one space remaining in her Art 101 class of all girls and that if Maggie wanted to join she needed to the next week or it would be too far into the year for her to catch up. It also “happened” to be the only day consistently open on my calendar. So we went for it. Yes, it has made my schedule busier for the rest of the year: however, I recognize what I’m asking of her everyday is a lot for a 13-year-old. Her two older sisters are quite jealous that they didn’t get an art class when they were homeschooled and helping me, but the truth is I hadn’t thought of it. I wish I had as an alternative to participating in a sport. 

(How Maggie can often be found)

A recent painting.

We love you Maggie! I’m so proud of you and extremely grateful for all you do for me so uncomplainingly. I’m impressed with your growth of character already this year. You’re such a special part of our family and I’m thankful you were born. 

Mary’s first Month

There’s something about a new baby that always makes me notice the passage of time; the coinciding of time dragging and also passing in a blink can make my head spin. 

This month has been extremely difficult. I’ve had more lows than highs. I don’t think I’m generally led by my emotions or feelings but that hasn’t been true this month. I have cried several times over my failings: my inability to feed Mary the way I want to, the physical and mental exhaustion that comes with triple feeding (breast, bottle and pump every 3 hours around the clock), my inability to comfort Hans easily, my inability to teach Ruth or determine the help she needs, my inability to be all things for all my children and feeling as though I’m placing too much burden on Maggie and Carrie because I cannot do everything.

Trent has been even more wonderful than ever. He’s been helpful through the nights with Mary, he’s encouraged me, gone above and beyond to help with the kids, meals, and housework, and loved me well. Our friends and church family have provided more meals and for a longer time than ever before. 

I came very close to giving up with breastfeeding. It’s always been a beautiful bonding experience for me, and while not all of my kids were easy to nurse, I didn’t have near the difficulty as I have this time. One night, with tears pouring down my cheeks, Mary screaming and not latching I wanted to push her away. I felt an emotional severing and in that moment didn’t even want to hold her. Even in that emotional moment I had a feeling this would make or break our future, that it would set the course for our success or failure together. And so I prayed. I prayed that the Lord would allow us to draw close, that I would pull her close and we would lean into this challenge together. 

That was less than a week ago. Since then our feedings have gotten progressively better; she’s latching quicker and more consistently. I don’t think I’ve cried since then. I’m so thankful I didn’t give up. 

I think our snuggles feel a little sweeter since having this success together. 

Happy one month, Mary Jubilee. I love you!

*At 5 weeks Mary weighs 6 pounds 4.5 ounces and is 20.5” long. As she was only 5 lb, 6 oz when she was discharged from the hospital the doctor was happy with her gain. She grew 1.5 inches from her birth length. 

Mary's Birth Story

 Friday, September 15th. The date was carefully marked in pen on our calendar for weeks. The day we would meet our eighth baby. We didn't find out if we were having a boy or a girl, but I was pretty sure we were having a boy. I had been sick in early pregnancy with Hans and I never was with any of the older girls. This time I was also sick, I had terrible heartburn and barely slept the last 6 weeks of my pregnancy. My belly was nice and round like it was with Hans, so I was very sure this would be a boy.

The early morning started out well. We woke Abbey and Maggie to put them in our room so they could hear Hans when he woke up, and were out the door before 6 am. Upon arriving at UPMC Lititz I was surprised and excited to see my favorite nurse, Morgan, was working (she wasn't scheduled but got called in as they were busy). She got me checked in, monitored the baby and we had a lovely chat. 

After Morgan's shift was over, two other nurses took over. They had a difficult time getting my IV started which was not much fun for me. However, eventually they got it and I made a joke about hoping that would be the hardest part of the day. 

The anesthesiologist came into the room and we had a chat about my history with epidurals and spinals and what was horrible and what was good. He was a delight; he happened to be from China and he was so excited to learn we have two girls adopted from China. I could tell it truly brought him great joy to know that these special little girls are well loved and part of a family. 

Surgery got bumped back a little because of an urgent situation and obviously I was understanding of the delay. I did text my family to let them know so they weren't worried if they didn't hear from me at the time they expected. They had originally told me they would let me play music from my phone while they got everything started. I had Marty's song, "Shade of a Cottonwood Tree" all queued up and ready to help me have peace. However, it ended up not working out and they handed my phone to Trent before I went in. I sang Marty's song in my mind over and over. It was the easiest, best anesthesia experience I've ever had. It went in easily and pain free. 

As we waited for it to take full effect I had the loveliest chat with the nurse. She asked what names we had picked and everyone in the room was so excited with us to find out if we were having a boy or a girl; if we would have a Henry Paul or Mary Jubilee. The nurse loved the name Jubilee and said one of her favorite songs is called Jubilee (I assume the song by Maverick City) so she thought it was a girl.

Once I'm prepped Trent comes in and surgery begins. The whole time I'm praying for strong lungs. Please, Jesus, give this baby strong lungs and let this baby come into my arms. Prior to surgery after talking with my chiropractor about praying vision prayers, I had a beautiful image of this birth. There would be angels filling the room and the Lord Jesus was standing beside the doctor, breathing life and health into our baby's lungs the moment of birth. That image stayed with me during surgery as I prayed for the life of this baby. And then....

The most beautiful sound in the world. A wailing newborn baby. Trent stands up to announce to the room..

It's a girl! 5 pounds, 11 ounces, 19 inches long. 9:40 am.

There was much laughter and celebration. The nurse checked the baby and I think I heard Apgar 9, and now here comes my newborn baby, all wet and red and with the tiniest nose being placed on my chest. 

 

My doctor said my uterus was very thin and she apologized profusely that she nicked Mary's cheek when she opened the uterus to get her out. But all of this didn't matter because now surgery is done and my baby is in my arms and we're going back to my room to recover. Thank you, Jesus!

As we were in recovery I got to hold Mary, attempt to breastfeed, (she wasn't great at this but I wasn't worried), snuggle, be amazed that this baby was really and truly breathing well and in my arms.

 

*This next part is somewhat graphic, be warned*

The same two nurses were there with me, pressing on my stomach, checking blood pressure and heart rate and temperature and the amount of blood. I was getting a little annoyed because all I wanted to do was Facetime our kids at home to let them know they have a sister and she's tiny and adorable and the nurses weren't leaving. Not only that, they kept asking me how I was feeling. They removed pads at a pace I didn't recall from before; they started weighing them which I was confused about. Over and over they asked how I was feeling. They were whispering about calling my doctor, and at one point I looked over and there was blood on the floor. Again, I just felt confused and irritated. Finally, we asked them to leave so we could call our kids. They agreed to give us a couple minutes of privacy.

We had a nice chat with the girls and Hans, though now I can't remember what was said. The nurses came back in while we were still on the call. At some point I had handed Mary over to Trent, but I don't remember when. After my nurses came back I started to feel unwell. I remember telling them I feel like I might faint; I recall one nurse waving alcohol under my nose to keep me awake; a vague recollection of someone trying to get blood from my arm but not having success. The next thing I remember was waking up, feeling very tired and there was a different nurse taking Mary's footprints.

 

What happened when I lost consciousness had to be filled in for me by Trent, my doctor and nurses. People came pouring into the room, my doctor pushed on my stomach and said another large clot of blood came out, they worked to increase the fluids in my IV, gave me a shot (I think), and drew blood for a stat CBC. Words were being said like, "Stay with me, Emily!", "blood pressure dropping, Heart rate 33". While my dear husband sat with our 2-hour-old baby on the couch and I lost nearly 2 liters of blood, about 1/3 of all the blood in my body. It was a horrible, scary experience for Trent. From what I understand I was back in stable condition after 5-10 minutes. 

However, the significant blood loss took its toll on me. My memory is very fuzzy before and after the incident. In the middle of the night they were checking Mary's sugars and I was attempting to breastfeed but she wasn't latching and they wanted me to give her a bottle and it was all very confusing for me to figure out. I couldn't tell how much she had eaten or when they were going to check her sugars. Then a NICU doctor I didn't really care for came in the middle of the night to take her to NICU and insinuated Mary could have Group B Strep but they wouldn't know because I "refused" to get tested for it prior to my c-section. In reality, I had researched and found that the risk for a baby to contract GBS through c-section is so low it's not even recommended to receive additional antibiotics for this. The doctor argued with me that that is not true, and also my baby might have sepsis and so they need to take her to the NICU to monitor her blood sugar and give her antibiotics. 

 

As frustrated as I was with this, in hindsight it was definitely for the best as I would really have been unable to care for Mary. Saturday morning, after we had eaten a little breakfast, we walked over to the NICU to see Mary. I held her for a bit and so did Trent. As we sat there, I was looking at the monitor and I asked Trent if he knew what the yellow numbers meant. He stared at me blankly. I looked at the screen and asked again, "the yellow number, what does it mean?" He said, "There's nothing yellow on the monitor." I stared at it again and corrected myself, "White. It's white." I think I leaned my head back and said I felt a little foggy. Trent said we should go back to the room. While I loathed to leave my baby, I really wasn't feeling great. 

Just before I started feeling very poorly.

 

A nurse came to check in on me right away and I mentioned I didn't feel great. She said she'd be right back. It felt like 30 seconds later she came in with a doctor who recommended I receive a blood transfusion and an iron infusion. That's when they told me how much blood I lost and said my hemoglobin had dropped to 6 or 7. Later that nurse told me I was completely yellow and she was very concerned for me. Trent agreed that I looked terrible. 

I slept through the entire transfusion; I truly didn't even have the energy to sit up in bed. I think I may have cried some that I missed a pumping session in there for Mary. 

I think at this point I was coming to terms with and understanding just how near of a thing this was for me and how close I came to potentially not being here. I've teared up and even cried several times since then. When I consider how my husband and children's lives would have had to change if I was gone, it breaks me a little. I am exceedingly grateful the Lord saw fit to allow me to continue to live on earth a while longer. And while I know my life would only really be beginning were I to die, I know it would not be a joyful event for my family. At this point, I also knew that Mary would be our last biological child. I had just been talking with Trent's cousin about how do you KNOW when you're really and truly done having kids? And while Trent was already saying this would be our last, I didn't have that same confidence. I had prayed the Lord would make it very clear to me whether we should have more biological children or not. This event made it crystal clear.

The blood loss also created some other complications for me. It caused my milk not to come in. I was pumping every 3 hours for 20 minutes and getting 1 milliliter (for you not math people that's 1/5th teaspoon). It was very defeating and I definitely cried while in the NICU over this. The staff at UPMC were truly wonderful, compassionate, and encouraging. Trent kept reminding me that in a few more days I'll have so much milk I won't know what to do with it all. Of course, he was right, but in that moment of not being able to feed my tiny baby on top of everything else I just felt worn out and sad. Mary is now 2 weeks old. I have plenty of milk but she has "nipple confusion" (trust me, it's a real thing) and sometimes she can latch and breastfeed well, and other times she can't and I have to give her a bottle. It seems like overnight are her hardest times to latch. As is my normal personality, I'm always trying to find a positive side to this; and I found it! The kids have all had a chance to feed Mary; something they've never gotten to do before. Trent has been wonderful, feeding her sometimes in the night so I can get extra sleep.

Have I mentioned Trent is wonderful? He has taken extra special care of me. This experience has helped us grow even closer together as we each recognize the value we hold for one another, our marriage, our family. 

 

There have been many ways the Lord has shown his provision all without people knowing the situation; my sister praying specifically about bleeding, my mom covering me in prayer, my dear friend praying through the night because her daughter kept asking about me, even a weird thing like me ordering a postpartum protein shake mix and postnatal vitamins when I have never taken supplements after my other babies were born, let alone a shake mix. Yet those things have been beneficial and helped provide not only the protein but added ingredients have helped me take in more iron than I would normally be able to.

So through it all, I've felt a shift in my walk with the Lord, in my relationships in my family, and an altered perspective on life. I learned at age 7 with the death of my friend, Krissy, the fragility of life. When Marty died 9 months ago it hit me again; how fleeting life is and how we just don't know and aren't guaranteed 80 or 100 years. In some ways I feel I've been given a unique opportunity or perspective maybe. What will I choose to do with it? How will I live my life differently? What really matters? How am I spending my time?

I hope that I'm becoming more thoughtful, intentional, and considerate. That I'm producing more than I'm consuming; that I'm pouring into each one of these beautiful people that God has given me to raise. Thank you, Jesus, for life!

Mary Jubilee: the meaning

We’ve chosen the names of all our children with care. Each has a special meaning and all of them have a family name as their first or middle (or both). 

Mary has several meanings, but the ones I like best are “wished-for child” and “beloved”. Mary is a family name on both sides of our families. Some of the Mary’s are: my maternal grandmother’s middle name, maternal first cousin, and many others in my Catholic history. Trent’s paternal great-grandmother was Mary, and many others through his family line as well. 

Jubilee means a season or occasion for celebration; a special anniversary, especially a 50th year. This name is meaningful to me for a couple big reasons. First, an occasion for celebration. I believe every life is worth celebrating. Rather than feel ashamed, embarrassed, or uncomfortable having an eighth baby in a world composed of mostly two child families, we celebrated. We celebrated the life of this child, so wished-for, cherished, and beloved. 

The second level of this name is spiritual to me. In Scripture, the year of Jubilee came after 49 years of doing things their own way. In the year of Jubilee the Israelites were commanded to revert property back to God’s original plan. In America, this specific meaning of Jubilee does not apply to us. However, for 49 years our country has done a grave injustice to the unborn children by aborting them for any reason. In the 49th year, Roe was overturned, giving states the decision making power. While many states (my own included) continue in pursuit of injustice, several have risen as dedicated to the preservation of life. This is the 50th year, the Year of Jubilee, a year for celebrating every life. 

(Mary & her little lamb: 1 week old)

One of my hopes is that by the time my Mary Jubilee is 50 years old and another Jubilee has come that abortion will be as abhorrent and unthinkable as slavery is today.  

She is our grand finale. Our great celebration of many lives the Lord has given us to parent. And so, we celebrate!

Hans Turns One!

Our best little buddy turned 1.

 

Hans continues to bring about an element that our all-girl family was missing. Trucks, tractors, and anything else with wheels litter the carpets and decorate the floors. While he isn’t much of a talker, he is astoundingly talented at making vehicle noises. 

Our December babies! Dec 17 & 20 birthdays. 

He can say and sign more, he has said mom, da, and no. He likes to hold food over his tray at the table and wait for someone to notice. When we look he says “no”. Sometimes he will put it back on the tray and other times he throws it. After throwing the food he covers his mouth with his hand as though shocked that the food has gone flying. The hand covering the mouth is rather adorable and his go-to method of distracting us from naughty behavior. 

I have a feeling Heidi and Hans will join together in the next few years and cause quite a bit of trouble and, potentially, damage to all things breakable. 

Hans, much to my surprise, is not walking yet. The trouble seems to be that he would rather run. He has taken 3 steps to Anne and one or two to Ruth and Maggie but in general he crawls as fast as he can and runs along the edge of furniture. 

Hans loves days when Trent works from home. He wants to sit on his lap and rest his hand on the arm of the chair. Then quickly slam his hands down to smash the keyboard. 

He really doesn’t cry much. He is very laid back but also busy. It’s an interesting combination. He spent so many months as a squishy, snuggly guy that it’s been a little difficult for me to let go of that and recognize that it is a healthy part of growing and gaining independence. 

(He’s so surprised that the computer turned off when he pushed the red button we’ve told him 1 million times not to touch 🤪)

Hans is such a special part of our family. We are grateful to God that he blessed our family with this little boy. We cannot picture our lives without him. 

Early morning stories with dad. 

Afternoon reading with mom. 

Working hard. 

Loves making animal noises. 

First haircut: so handsome!

First birthday party!

Happy birthday, Hans!

We had a fun party where we combined Hansy’s birthday with my family Christmas. We made gingerbread houses and ate lots of good food. 

We can truly say that after one year, the meaning of his name holds true. God is gracious.