Another Little?!?

Now that the “cat is out of the bag”, so to speak, and we have announced that we are expecting baby number three, I felt like I should explain why we've chosen to have another baby after what we went through with Attley. (If you aren’t familiar with Attley’s story, keep scrolling)

To explain why we made this decision, I want to take you back to 2010 when Matt and I first started dating. I met Matt through my best friend Lauren, and her boyfriend, now husband, Mathew. They invited me to a “Do Nothing Day” party where you sit in the front lawn, drink beer, and essentially do nothing. Matt and I spent 15 minutes talking at the party and a few days later he had tracked my phone number down and asked me out on a date. On our second date, I told Matt, I wanted to get married, have three kids- one named Emmett, and be a stay at home mom. I tend to just lay things out there, rather than maybe waiting the appropriate amount of dates needed to until you share more “serious” information with someone you are getting to know. But it must have worked because Matt kept dating me, we got engaged, and then married.

Fast forward eight years from that point and we are on our way to having baby number three. And to be honest, we almost didn’t get here. Everything that happened with Attley changed myself, Matt and our relationship. You can’t go through what we went through and not have lasting effects that ripple into your everyday life.

This Fall, as we approached Attley’s first birthday, I spent a lot of time in my head going back and forth on whether our family was complete or if we should start trying for number three. All of my life, I have wanted at least three kids. (Possibly four hint, hint Matt) However, the unfortunate thing about PPROM (preterm premature rupture of the membranes aka water breaking early) is that doctors cannot pinpoint the cause or explain why it happened. If you ask me, it was due to extreme stress but we will never know. Along with not knowing the cause of PPROM, it is also common for consecutive births to be early as well.

It pretty much came down to weighing out our original plan to have three kids and the possibility of a recurrence of what we went through with Attley. So why did we decide for three??

Because I refuse to let fear of “what if” dictate our future. This pregnancy has been hard. Mentally, emotionally, and physically and I would do it all again. I don’t know how the next 24ish weeks are going to go, but I do know that I will not let the fear of the past decide our future. I think sometimes in life we can be ruled by fear, by the game of “what if” when really we just need to have faith. Faith in God, faith in ourselves, and faith that everything happens for a reason.

Fear

Many of you have asked us how our trip to Ireland was and let me tell you it was INCREDIBLE. I mean, honestly it was epic.  We got to spend time with my bestie and her hubby in Wexford for five  days and then Matt and I ventured into Dublin where we explored the city and took “Paddy Wagons” to different places in Ireland. (Paddy Wagon is a coach bus that drives you around to different sites)

My favorite day was the day we went to the Cliffs of Moher and it is what I am going to write about today.

Since the movie “Pride and Prejudice” (the one with Kiera Knightly) came out, I have wanted to see the Cliffs of Moher. Before you comment, yes I know the Cliffs are not shown in that movie. However, there is a scene where she is at a cliff looking over the ocean and there began my obsession with seeing the Cliffs of Moher.

The COM (Cliffs of Moher-its getting annoying to type out or I am spelling that out too much) day arrived and we were ready. We had snacks for the bus, rain jackets, layers, our camera and phone chargers. We were scheduled to take a Paddy Wagon to a few places, one of which was the COM. We got on the bus and off we went. We stopped at a castle, at a cute town for lunch, and then we finally made it to the COM.

The weather changes when you are near the ocean in Ireland- especially at the COM. When it had been  mostly dry all day, we arrived and it was windy with misty rain. But we were ready- we had all our gear and we couldn’t wait to get off the bus and explore. The tour guide said we would have two  hours and warned us to be careful- people have died from getting too close to the edge and he didn’t want us to be one of them.

At the COM there are two main walking paths-- one towards a beaten down castle and an easier walk or one towards more of the cliffs and a little more treacherous. We chose the treacherous one obviously. As we started our trek, the wind and rain picked up slightly but we were prepared for that so we kept going. The official path only goes so far and then it comes to the unbeaten path where you climb over a fence and walk on the muddy grass area. We climbed over and kept walking. All the while we would stop and take pictures and take it all in. I still remember just taking a moment and feeling so fricken blessed that I got to see this marvelous place.

After a few minutes of hiking, we got to a stopping point. There is this dip in the cliff and it had created this little pool from the rain and ocean water. Matt and I had to make a decision. Do we stop here and hike back, or do we keep going?  My adrenaline was going and I was ready to keep going. However, the wind was something fierce and the rain was coming steady.

This is where we debated. We had to walk around the left side of the "pond" and up towards where those people are standing. 

Now, I am going to take a quick break from this story to mention that I have been reading a lot of self development books and a theme from all of them is the idea of fear. This short little word has an incredible impact on our day to day lives. I have come to realize that much of my life revolves around this idea of fear.

Fear of failure

Fear of pain

Fear of judgement

Fear of death

Just to name of few. And I am tired of it. As I have stated in previous posts, my “mantra” for this year has been the word “faith” and personally I don’t think you can have faith and feel fear- the whole point of faith is to believe in the unseen or to believe in what you can’t control- at least that is how I think of it.

And so back to our journey- we stood there debating whether we should go. Most people were turning around and a few were journeying down into the dip and braving the wind. I remember looking at Matt and saying, “Let’s do it.” We didn’t come all the way here to stop at this point. And so we carefully walked down the slippery rocks to the lowest point in the dip and fought the wind to stay upright while slowly walking around the little pond.

Finally, we got to a part where we could climb back up and let me tell you...it was worth it. It was so fricken pretty. Matt and I stood there and just looked around..the ocean crashing against the rock, the rain soaking us and the wind howling all around. It was perfect. Luckily, one other brave soul had decided it was worth it too, and he was able to get some pictures of us.

After we made the scary hike back to the bus, my mind started this whole spin about fear and how much we let it rule our lives. What do you fear? How do you let fear take over your life? My bet is if you answered these questions honestly, you would find that parts of your life are ruled by fear…  and how do you change that? That part I am working on-but for me it is having faith. Having so much faith that even when these huge things I fear are standing in front of me, I just say a prayer and have faith.

So much joy and so much God made beauty. So grateful for this trip of a lifetime with my favorite person. 

Can I Leave My Littles?

Well, shit is getting real. We leave for Ireland in TWO DAYS! I am beyond excited. Seriously. This is something Matt and I have talked about doing since back when we were dating almost 7 years ago.

Why are we going now? Well, after the events of this past year, we decided that life is too short to pay bills and die. So, we decided to go for it and buy the tickets.

For months now we have been planning, researching, and prepping, finding care for the littles, making lists upon lists, and getting the necessary supplies. And it is almost here...but can I leave my littles?

Part of me thinks we are crazy for going without Emmett and Attley. I have officially been home full time with them for a month and it has been life changing. I fall more in love with them every single day. The thought of leaving them for TWELVE days is terrifying. I'm literally terrified. Am I a crazy, have to be with my kids constantly mom? No. I love a night out or a few nights away, but 12 days seems like a lot.

Then while I am on this crazy mom train, my mind goes even farther into the negative...what if something bad happens? What if we never make it back? And then I stop myself. My mantra for this year has been the word “faith.” I come back to this word daily and repeat it in my head constantly. I need to have faith.

Faith that the kids will be alright and have a blast with their grandparents.

Faith that this trip is going to be such a blessing for Matt and I.

Faith that we will return safely.

Faith.

Faith.

Faith.

Our reality is what our mind makes it and I don’t want to have this trip of a lifetime tarnished by fear, worry, or doubt. So, I will continue to repeat that mantra in my head, squeeze my littles a bit more than normal, and get ready to jump on a plane for an exciting adventure with the love of my life.

Why Start a Blog?

Why start a blog? I have been wresteling with this question for some time. When starting something new there are obvious doubts, 'there are millions of blogs out there' or 'are my thoughts important to share with the world?' But I kept circling back to October 5th, 2016 to find my answer and the courage to start The Abundant Momma.

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On October 5th, 2016, my water broke at 26.6 weeks and my entire life changed.

While working the day before, I started to experience severe leg pain on the insides of both legs. Walking and stairs were painful and I called my clinic and they suggested I get checked out at the Maternal Assessment Center at the hospital. At the hospital, baby looked normal and there was nothing out of the ordinary, so I was sent home.

After a night's sleep, I woke up telling myself I was going to take it “easy” at work. When you work in a special education classroom, this is pretty much impossible, but I was determined to do less bending and chasing kids and try to take it easy.

I stuck to my plan. That morning I told my staff I was going to try and not push myself. My team helped me move things around so that I would not need to bend as much. I felt good about my decision to take it easy. 

The morning start off as usual, but at 9:30 when I started to teach, I felt a tiny gush of fluid. My first reaction was telling myself that this is normal. (If you are a mother reading this and you have had a child, you know that all sorts of stuff comes out of there at any given moment, pregnant or not.) Just to be on the safe side, I went to the bathroom at 10:00 to make sure that it was nothing out of the usual and everything checked out fine.

Around 11:00 I felt another tiny gush that made my undies just a tiny bit damp.  I went to the bathroom again and everything seemed fine but I started thinking that maybe my water had broke. I dismissed the thought immediately.  I was 26.6 weeks pregnant, my water couldn’t be broken.

At 12:20, I went to lunch and texted my husband. I told him, “I think my water might have broken, but I can’t be for sure.” He sent a series of texts asking me to be careful, take it easy, and to keep him updated. 

So, I continued to eat my lunch and chat casually with my co-workers that I had just met in September. As I was sitting there, it happened. A big gush of fluid came out. It was enough to soak my pants and the chair I was sitting in.

I panicked. I didn’t know these people enough to have them help me or to tell them that my water broke WAY too early. So, I didn’t. I calmly took my sweatshirt off, tied it casually around my waist, gathered my lunch things and abruptly stood.  I pushed my chair in and walked briskly out of the staff lounge.

As I was walking down to my classroom, I felt a larger gush of fluid.  A co-worker I didn’t know all that well must have seen the look of panic on my face and asked if I was OK. I told her no, my water just broke and I needed Erin, my co-worker who I was close to. She assisted me to my classroom and I went in to tell my staff.

I stated that my water broke and there was a flurry of activity. They helped me gather my things while I called Matt crying to tell him that my water did in fact break. By that time, more staff had arrived and a wheelchair was brought to me so I could go upstairs to the nurse's office to wait for Matt to get me.

The astringent smell of the nurses office will forever scar me to this day. I laid on the cot waiting for Matt while a million thoughts buzzed through my head. The Associate Principal at my school, came in and asked how I was doing. She was 39 weeks pregnant and I told her with tears streaming down my face that this should be her. It was too early for my water to break. Matt finally arrived and I was assisted into our car.

When in the car, I called my clinic to tell them what happened. When I told them, the woman’s response was “Are you sure your water broke?” It was hard not to scream at her. “YES my water broke, my pants are soaked to my ankles lady!” But I calmly told her, “Yes I am sure.” She told us to go to the Maternal Assessment Center at the hospital and get checked out. They would send my information to the hospital so they were prepared when we arrived.  So, to the hospital we went.

We finally arrived at the hospital and started to walk to the emergency room. As we were walking, more and more water kept coming out, making my anxiety climb higher and higher. Matt located a wheelchair and got me to the assessment center. We got buzzed in and went to the desk.

We were greeted by a lady who asked us what brought us in. I replied that my water had broken and that my clinic should have sent my information over. She looked for the paperwork while replying that all of their assessment rooms were full at the moment. I looked at her, feeling more and more frustrated and said that I would really appreciate a room because my pants were soaked. She looked over the counter and said that she would find something.

We were brought to a labor and delivery room, where a nurse came in and asked us what brought us in. Again, I replied that my water had broken. She said they would assess me and casually asked me how many weeks along I was. When I replied “27 weeks” (apparently you should never round up when counting how far along you are), all hell broke loose. She hit a button and replied “I’ll be right back” while bolting out of the room.

Soon after, we had a gaggle of nurses and hospital staff in the room, hooking up monitors, asking me questions, and starting an IV. The nurse hooking up the IV complained that my veins were very small and not suitable. I had no reply to this (like what do you say to that?) Then we were informed that the hospital we were at does not admit babies under 30 weeks. Ooooook then.

They explained that we would need to be transferred to a hospital in Minneapolis that has an antepartum unit and extensive Neonatal Intensive Care Unit or NICU. After the flurry of activity, we were told that my doctor was paged and she should be coming to explain our next steps.

While we were waiting again, they monitored my contractions and pumped me full of magnesium (apparently this can stall or stop labor from progressing). Finally, after what felt like forever, my doctor arrived. She explained that we would be transferred and I would be cared for by the medical staff at another hospital.

At that point, I was drugged up on magnesium and a little loopy. I looked at my doctor and asked, “Wait, am I not going to have the baby today?” Her reply was that hopefully not. So far, the contractions had slowed and I was only dilated to 1cm. Alright. So we were hopefully not having a baby.   Since I was on an IV and my water had broke, I needed an ambulance to transport me to the hospital I would live at until baby came. (Side Note: The bag of waters is what protects the baby from germs and infections). Since mine had broke so early, I would need to stay at the hospital and be closely monitored for infections, water level (the water would build back up and I would continue to lose it), and little beans activity.  We waited for the ambulance to arrive to transfer me to the hospital I would be at.  

The rest of the day was kind of a blur (anxiety + magnesium can make you not remember). We arrived at the new hospital and it was explained in detail that my goal was to carry my baby to 34 weeks gestational age. So, I had a goal: carry my little bean for essentially seven weeks in the hospital before being induced at 34 weeks. And thus began my bedrest journey which I documented in quite a bit of detail on Facebook.

So, back to the original question: why start a blog? I am starting this blog because on this day, October 5th, and every day after, my life was changed. Writing about my journey and experiences became my therapy. It became such an important outlet that after my bedrest journey and NICU journey ended, I came to miss it.

Since this journey started, I have had the privilege to connect with other women that have experienced similar situations and my hope is that my experience helped them in some small way. And that is my ultimate goal. I want to help and serve others.  I want to live an abundant life and help other mommas do the same.  The Abundant Momma will be where I share my experiences of faith, family and fitness.

So, if you have made it the end of this long tale, thank you for reading and I hope you can find something in my journey to serve you in your life. More content coming soon!