Give Thanks

"Oh Lord, who has given us so much, mercifully grant us one more thing - a grateful heart."
George Herbert

This year has been filled with more ups and downs than any other. But regardless of our triumphs and trials in 2008, there are so many things for which the Blums are thankful:

1. God's unwavering mercy, grace and love.
2. Our health.
3. Each other.
4. A still-pregnant Jackie.
5. Stefan's job.
6. The family and friends who surround us with love and compassion.
7. Our troops, who are giving their lives so that we can enjoy the freedom in ours.
8. The food in our pantry, the pillows under our heads, the heat in our home and the clothes on our backs.
9. Ava's laugh.

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Letter C

Stefan called me this evening during the dinner hour to let me know about Ava's latest accomplishment. Tonight, Ava had spaghetti for dinner - something we don't give her often primarily because she's never really cared for it enough to eat a full meal's worth. Well tonight, Stefan gave her a plate of spaghetti, with the noodles cut short so she could eat it easily. According to my husband, Ava picked up a short noodle, and the noodle limped between her two fingers, forming an arch. Ava studied the arched noodle for a second, and then shouted, "C!"

Yes, honey, you're right! That is the letter C. I was so very proud of my little girl, and so very sad that I missed it.

Day Sixteen: Breaking Through

32 weeks and 3 days.

Today has been one of those days...

It all started this morning when I had a bad dream. Catering brought my breakfast tray into my room around 7:15 a.m. as usual, and it's at this time that I usually go to the bathroom, put my contacts in, brush my teeth, turn on the TV and start my day. But this morning, I let myself drift back to sleep, and that was a huge mistake. I had the WORST dream ever. I shouldn't be surprised. It's always the early morning dreams that are the weirdest. I dreamed that I was on the fetal monitor, and the nurses found a heart irregularity with the baby. His heart rate would be normal and then dip way low. It scared me to death! I was awakened at 8:30 by the perinatologist who came in to see me. He apologized for waking me up, but I told him that I was thankful he did. Ugh, what a nightmare. And it has stuck with me all day. From now on, I'm rising and shining when that breakfast tray enters my room.

I am getting quite proficient at typing with one hand.

The day hasn't really improved much since my horrible dream. I have been crampy all all day and have been having a lot of contractions and irritability. I am living from terbutaline bolus to terbutaline bolus, and that makes me very uncomfortable, as if I'm starting to break through the meds. It's been nearly 2 weeks since I've started the pump, so it wouldn't surprise me. I have an ultrasound tomorrow morning, and I will be very vocal about my concerns. The doctors are flirting with the notion of sending me home tomorrow, which always sends my emotions into overdrive.

I have been ultra-focused on days lately... how many days left until I reach 34 weeks? 35 weeks? 36 weeks? How far will I go? At what date will I reach these milestones. I am trying to still take it one day at a time, but it's hard on days like today, when I just want to know everything will be OK.

Most of the things we've ordered for baby have arrived. The clothes have been washed, but Stefan told me he's just throwing the piles of clean laundry into his crib and will fold them later.

Day Fifteen: So Sleepy

32 weeks and 2 days.

For the past two weeks, I have not inhaled one breath of fresh air. From the window in my room, I only have a view of another wing of the hospital, but I am able to tell if it's sunny or cloudy, day or night. It could be 90 degrees outside and I wouldn't know the difference. But I know it's cold because my husband tells me so every time we talk on the phone. I know it was dreary and rainy today, and even though I couldn't really see the weather, it affected me anyway. I was so sleepy today, and so was baby. I napped intermittently all throughout the day, starting at 9:30 this morning! I never napped for long, but I would remember seeing the beginnings and the ends only of some TV shows. Baby has been very mellow today, too. He's given me a few kicks, but for the most part has been snoozing right along with his mama. Drowsiness is also a side effect of my anti-anxiety medication, so pair that with the rain and I was a lazy daisy today! I just hope I can sleep tonight.

Bonnie surprised me with a visit today and brought Ava, Ally and Kelsey. They were returning home from a morning at the aquarium, and stopped by to provide some company for 30 minutes. All three girls immediately fell into character. Ava and Kelsey asked for snacks and Ally started asking questions about all of the medical equipment in my room. She wanted to know what my T-pump did, and I told her it was a computer that talked to the baby to tell him to stay in my belly as long as possible. Ally is a very smart little girl. She was so concerned about my health and the baby (at 5 years old!), and all Ava and Kelsey could do was shove Honey Nut Cheerios into their faces. It cracked me up. I loved seeing all of them.

Day Fourteen: Getting a Medical Degree

The past day-and-a-half have been lovely. Contractions have been few and far between. Irritability has been light. Things were mellow for a while. But I know better than to think for a second that things will stay that way. I was quite crampy this afternoon and this evening, with a whole lot of pressure on my cervix, as if the baby was trying to push his way out. But because I'm not really contracting, no one seems to be concerned.

The baby could be laying funny.
Maybe I just need a bowel movement.
Maybe it's another infection.
It could be the nasty Metamucil and Ensure supplements they have me chugging several times daily.

It's anyone's guess, which means I'm left to diagnose myself. Because no one around here seems to think anything's wrong unless contractions are 8 minutes apart, I feel like I'm the one that has to pull the fire alarm. When Ava came, I never had serious contractions. My water broke, and moments later, she was here. I may not be a doctor, but I know that major things can happen without contractions. Medicine is a science. But I am a mother. And I know.

The crampiness and pressure has subsided for now, but I'm still not completely convinced that something didn't happen when I was.

I have been listening to a lot of James Taylor and Enya.

Day Thirteen: 32 Weeks!

Now we are in familiar territory. Ava was born at 32 weeks and 4 days, so at this point we kind of know what to expect should the baby decide to enter the world. Of course, we are hoping for several more weeks in my belly, but I am thankful for this milestone.

Ava and Stefan came to visit me this morning. Ava loves raiding my snack stash that I accumulate when the snack cart lady visits my room each morning. She always picks a colorful package (this morning it was an apple cinnamon Nutrigrain bar) and brings it to me. I open it, and she chows down. It's become our little ritual. We snuggled as she watched a Baby Einstein movie, she played for a little while, and then they had to leave. For the first time in two weeks, I didn't cry when they left. Maybe it's because I'm getting stronger. Maybe it's because they'll probably be back for another visit tomorrow. I wish it was the former, but it's probably the latter.

Today has been a relatively good day. Contractions and irritability have been fairly quiet, but we're about to enter the critical evening hours, when my uterus seems to switch into overdrive. I am hoping for a quiet and uneventful night. I am almost done with our Christmas shopping!

Day Twelve Part Two: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

My emotional state has done a complete 180 since this morning. After receiving some great news this morning at my ultrasound, I have had an afternoon of contractions and irritability. In fact, I've had to get two T-pump boluses (surges) earlier than usual to try and quiet things down. The thing is, I knew this would happen. It's common - even expected - for T-pumps to eventually "fail," meaning that my body will at some point get used to the Terbutaline and will no longer react to it. But typically it takes 2-3 weeks for this to happen, and I have only been on it for 10 days. My basal dosages, as well as my boluses, can be increased to buy more time. But I fear how much more time because once I break through the T-pump, the doctors will need to bring out the big guns. The magnesium sulfate.

I'm so discouraged right now. It seems like every time I make progress, something happens to knock me down. I cry at the drop of a hat because I'm just so scared and emotionally drained. I know God won't give me anything I can't handle, but sometimes I wonder what He's thinking. I just feel so weak. Are other mom's in the other high-risk patient rooms feeling this way? Are they as emotionally unstable as I am? Sometimes I feel like the staff thinks I'm neurotic.

Day Twelve: I'm in it Until We Win it

My ultrasound this morning went better than expected. With all of the irritability and contractions this week, I would have sworn the doctors were going to find even less of a cervix than they did on Monday. But exactly the opposite happened - there's more! A whole centimeter more (which is a lot in terms of cervical length)! I was giddy. I also got into a little argument with the perinatologist, but more on that in a minute.

I saw my actual, original OB this morning, Dr. Jo. She has been out for a couple of months on maternity leave, and this morning she came into my room to catch up. We had a great discussion, and I immediately remembered why I love her so much. She is honest and realistic, but has this amazing bedside manner. She could tell you some disappointing news, but somehow, you feel OK about it. But the thing I love most about her is that she is confident in what she wants. No wishy-washy-I'm-not-sure-what-to-do-with-you kind of mentality. she knows what she wants for her patients and has no problem following through on it. And because I'm such an emotional rollercoaster right now, I really need someone like that as my doctor. Dr. Jo said that she wanted to keep me here at least another week (until I hit 33 weeks at least) because of my history. (This is where that whole being OK with disappointing news came into play.) I felt a little deflated when she said that, but I also felt very relieved. I've said so many times before that I would love to go home but would be scared to death at the same time.

So after speaking with Dr. Jo this morning, I went for my ultrasound and got the awesome news about my cervical length. One of the staff perinatologists (I see a different one every time I have an ultrasound) came into the room and shouted, "You're cervix looks phenomenal! Let's get you home!" I smiled but said, "Um, OK, but Dr. Jo said she wanted to keep me here at least another week."

Peri: "Why?"
Me: "I'm not sure. She said she wants to make sure I am able to make it to at least 34 weeks and feels I should be here until 33 weeks or so."
Peri: "Well that doesn't make sense. I mean, you can have monitoring at home." (Picture uptight, patronizing woman here.)
Me: "OK. But I'm not a doctor. I don't know what's best here."
Peri: "Well you do want to go home, don't you?" (The bitch!)
Me: "Of course I'd love to go home! But I'm scared to death! My daughter was born around this time and I don't want that to happen again."
Peri: "Well fine then, we'll just keep you here."

She literally stormed out of the room and slammed the door. The tech who did my ultrasound looked at me, smiled gently, and mouthed, "I'm sorry." I heard this particular perinatologist doesn't have children of her own, and I'm thinking her attitude would be different if she did.

The point is, I am completely incapable of making this decision. I cannot say, "Sure, I'll go home!" If I do, and go into hard labor that could have been stopped had I been here, I will never, ever forgive myself. What if I get home and can't get back to the hospital in time? But what if I stay and everything is OK and what I really end up missing is time with Ava and Stefan before the baby arrives? It's an impossible situation. And everyone wants to know what I want. You know what I want? I want a healthy baby boy. I want to not be in the NICU. I want my house in the hospital and the hospital in my house. But I can't have both. But I will say this: I would rather be here in the hospital and pregnant for Thanksgiving than here in the hospital visiting my baby in the NICU on Christmas. I know doctors can't predict the future, but whatever it takes to have a healthy baby is what I will do.

I was talking to my brother-in-law Bo on the phone this morning and he said that this was more of a mental game now. I agreed. It's like running a marathon. After a certain point (or mile marker), it's not really about physical ability as much as it is about mental and emotional endurance. We will make it. We will win this race.

Days Nine - Eleven: Model of Instability

We made it another three days, baby! Great work. You always perform so well while on the monitor. You stay put for the entire hour so the nurse can hear your heartbeat, accelerations, and movements. Sometimes you think you're so cute by playing hide-and-seek and making the nurses search long and hard for your heartbeat, but they find you every time, eventually. Now, they always have to angle the monitor downward because you've burrowed into my belly. You always get an A+ when on the monitors. Your mommy, however...

There are good days and bad days. Some days I barely feel a contraction, and other days I feel like maybe labor is beginning. The doctors have diagnosed me with an irritable uterus. Actually, I diagnosed myself and the doctors agreed. Maybe I'm the one who should be getting paid.

I am still in the hospital and have another ultrasound tomorrow morning. Some doctors can't wait to send me home, while others imply I'll be here until I get off the medications at 34-35 weeks. I see so many doctors and they all think and say different things. Some think my irritable uterus is of no substantial concern, and others want to try and calm it. Some doctors say my nighttime contractions should be reduced as much as possible with meds, while others say they are normal for this stage of pregnancy. I wish they would just have one, united voice about how to treat me or I will never feel comfortable enough to go home until after the baby arrives.

I miss Ava and Stefan so much.

My Dream

Last night I had a dream, and I was surprised at how it actually made sense. Usually my dreams are so illogical and bizarre, like the time I was being hunted as a suspect for the murder of Joe Pesci. Seriously, and that's not even as bad as they get. But last night's dream was crystal clear:

I was at Target shopping for the baby. I was wearing my favorite Kenneth Cole black stilettos and my favorite skinny jeans. I don't remember if I was pregnant, but I was shopping vigilantly for the baby - blankets, clothes, swings. I was running around, almost in a panic, trying to get as much stuff as possible. Then, all of a sudden, I remembered I was supposed to be on bed rest. I freaked out because I just knew I was jeopardizing the baby's health with every additional step I took. I abandoned the shopping cart and almost ran to my car, where I got in the driver's seat and reclined the seat as far back as it could go. I tried to lay down in the car, but it was really difficult. I woke up before finding out what happened, and was so relieved to learn it was only a dream.

Day Eight: Not Going Home, Struggling to Find a Solution

My ultrasound this morning was pretty good. The baby has somehow flipped himself to breech again, but the doctor said he will more than likely flip again before delivery day. Everything measured stable, so I thought I was on my way home today. No such luck. My doctors are still concerned with the number of contractions I'm having, particularly in the evening hours. So they once again adjusted my meds and want to observe me again overnight. It's all so bittersweet. I want nothing more than to go home, but if something's not right, I want to be here. I have spent much of the day in tears of frustration over whether or not we'll find anything that works, or if my doctors will just keep adjusting meds like a science experiment in order to buy just one more day. Eventually, my options will run out and the baby will come when he wants... I just hope it's sometime after 34 weeks.

The dietician here at the hospital has put me on Ensure twice a day to help me gain weight. I am back to shedding pounds, but not because I am not eating, but because the baby is demanding so much right now. He is gaining roughly 1/2 pound a week, and the calories needed to do that are a lot. I am eating again, but not enough for me and the baby. So he gets what he needs (thank God), and I continue to lose the weight. The Ensure is supposed to help get more nutrients to me and the baby, but it doesn't taste very good. I have to get it super cold and then chug it through a straw, tasting as little as possible. I heard Boost tastes better, but the hospital has a contract with Ensure, so that's what I get.

Stefan and Ava came down for a nice, long visit this evening. They had to - I was out of underwear. We had dinner together (Stefan and Ava got McDonald's in the hospital cafeteria and brought it to my room), and Ava had a good time playing with a few spare (safe) objects from around my room. Ava snuggled with me on my bed while she ate some Cheerios, which was one of the sweetest moments of my life. And getting a warm bear hug from my hubby is the better than any medicine that could come in a bottle. I love it when they visit, but it always takes me at least an hour after they leave to calm down and stop the tears. It makes me feel like I am sacrificing the care of one child to care for the other. Some days, my mantra of "This, too, shall pass" doesn't seem to be very effective. Today is one of those days. I hope tomorrow is better.

Days Six & Seven: Getting By with a Little Help from my Friends

We hit 31 weeks yesterday! I have been fairly stable over the weekend, so pending a good, solid ultrasound tomorrow morning, I may be able to go home. I'm not expecting to be there too long, but the doctors said that's to be expected. They said I will most likely be in and out until I deliver.

This weekend was nice because I got lots of visitors. Stefan and Ava came to see me Saturday morning, and my very good friend Mandy came to see me this morning. I love having visitors because it takes my mind off of everything and also gives me the opportunity to talk to someone other than a doctor or nurse. Mandy brought me some adorable clothes for the baby, as well as some pretty-smelling lotion for me. Sometimes it just takes a little friendship to make everything seem brighter, better, more tolerable.

Baby has been active as usual, although every nurse I come into contact with comments on how low he is. I know he is low. Please don't remind me every 5 minutes. It freaks me out. I have been having terrible bouts of heartburn lately, and I know it's common this late in pregnancy. But I also know that eating while laying down isn't helping matters, either. The nurses always offer me drugs to help, but seriously, the last thing I want is more chemicals raging through my body. I have been eating between 2 and 3 cups of yogurt a day to help fight the effects of the antibiotics. After this, I may never want to look at yogurt again, which is a shame, because I have always liked yogurt. Except for chocolate-flavored yogurt. That's just wrong. Save the chocolate for the pudding.

Ava and Stefan ran lots of errands today to continue preparing for baby's arrival. I miss them so much. Well, I almost made it through the day without crying...

Day Five: Looking Good

At 7:15 this morning, I was awakened by a knock on my room door. "Mrs. Blum? the nurse asked. Ultrasound wants to see you at 7:30. I have your wheelchair out here in the hall to take you downstairs." That's the one bad thing about being an inpatient... Your appointments are before the office actually opens, so that the doctors can see you before their normal patient load for the day. And that means 7:30, whether you're up and ready or not. I quickly got dressed, brushed my teeth and put in my contacts. I ran a brush through my hair and put a thin headband on. I looked at myself in the mirror and realized the headband looked awful. It was like I was attempting to put whipped cream on a pile of shit. Oh dear. But at least I showered last night and shaved my legs. I was clean, but hardly presentable.

The ultrasound went very well. The baby looks great and is measuring around 3 pounds 5 ounces. There was also signs of improvement in terms of cervical length - it measured 3 cm as compared to the 2.7 cm measurement from Monday. Not a huge improvement, but it's an improvement, and I'll take that any day of the week! The doctors think I am showing good signs of stability, and for the first time in a week, I heard the words "going home." I am still scared to go home, although I know they are fully expecting me to be back in a week or two for the same preterm labor symptoms. That seems to be my pattern. They want me to stay here through the weekend to be sure the T-pump is still working successfully, and then on Monday, maybe I will be able to go home.

Hospital volunteers with an organization called Happy Tails came by my room this afternoon and introduced two furry friends - Gus, a 2-year-old daschund, and Samantha, a 5-year-old terrier. The dogs are very friendly and well trained. They visit patients as a way to brighten their days. Both Gus and Samantha hopped up on my bed and let me pet them for quite some time (the nurse changed my bed immediately after they left). I really enjoyed the visit, although part of me got a little depressed. I know their purpose is to bring some level of happiness to patients, but for me, it just served as a reminder that I am in a hospital, away from my own dog and family. I just hate hospitals, I guess.

Stefan, Bo and Bonnie have spent the past few days preparing the nursery. Bo and Stefan assemble and move the furniture, and Bonnie organizes everything. Yesterday, I shopped for all the baby necessities online. Let's just say Babies R Us and Amazon.com will no doubt make earnings estimates this quarter. But, I feel good knowing we have all we need, at least until I am able to get up and to a store again, which won't be until after Baby Boy arrives. I am sad that I am not a part of the nesting, but I am so appreciative that it is getting done. I can't wait to see it when I get home!

Day Four: Packing on the Pounds

I've gained 3 pounds in 2 days! Woo-hoo! Now we're moving in the right direction, and I owe it all to my sweetheart of a food service lady, who brings me a Krispy Kreme every morning with my breakfast.

Today was a good day. An 8 on a scale of 1-10. I had very few contractions, so this Terbutaline Pump seems to be working for now. My IV was removed this morning, so I'm on my own to keep myself ultra hydrated. I tweezed my eyebrows this evening because I have given up all hope of getting to a salon before the baby arrives. And although I don't consider myself to be vain, I simply refuse to have the first photographs with my new son feature me with a unibrow. So I plucked away, and feel much better.

I go for another ultrasound tomorrow morning. I am a little anxious for this one because before I was introduced to the glorious T-pump, I was having some pretty serious contractions and a lot of pressure. I just hope and pray nothing hasn't changed or dilated any further.

Every night as I blog, I have been playing lullabies from my itunes for the baby (Tracy, it's the Nicolette Larson CD you gave me - love it!). We both enjoy the soft music, and I think it is helping me sleep. I have been able to sleep well without the Ambien, thank goodness. I am also reading a book called Days in Waiting, which was written as a survival guide for pregnant women on bed rest and experiencing complications. The woman who wrote it endured not one, but two pregnancies where she faced some of the most extreme bed rest challenges I have ever seen. She shares practical advice and tips for moms experiencing bed rest and other complications of high-risk pregnancies. While the tips and advice truly are helpful, the best part of this book for me is helping me to not feel so alone in all of this. I have found myself nodding along with her words, as if she is talking directly to me, about my situation.

The clock just struck midnight. We made it another day, honey. Here's to another! But now, for me, it's lights out.

Day Three: Pumps and Progress

Today is my third full day in the hospital, and for the first time in all 4 of my visits, no one has spoken a word about going home. Not that I'm anxious to go home, but it's just weird to think I may be here for the long haul. Last night I had another scary incident of pressure and contractions, so I received more Terbutaline injections, which helped a lot. After last night's episode, my doctor and perinatologist decided the Procardia I was on to help ease contractions was just not doing it's job. So I am now on a Terbutaline "pump." the T-pump is essentially a small, portable IV catheter that provides continuous meds. It is put into my thigh, and I don't feel a thing. I am really happy (so far) with the T-pump because I'm not experiencing the roller coaster of symptoms I was with the Procardia. No more waiting to take meds and hoping I don't contract before they kick in. But, I've only had this gadget for about 8 hours, so it'll be a couple of days before we really know if it's effective.

My doctor also put me on an anti-anxiety medication called Adovan. The last thing I wanted was another drug, but I know the stress I am experiencing is most likely making things worse. So my doctor was happy to give me the Adovan and said most high-risk patients need it at some point.

Stefan and I have started celebrating our daily milestones each morning on the phone. "We made it another day!" we exclaim, and then we hope for another. My OB said this morning that our new goal is 34 weeks. Of course, we will hope for longer, but our goal is 34 glorious, healthy weeks. 34 is only 3 1/2 weeks from where I am now, so I am hopeful. We can do it, baby boy! But there are never any guarantees, and we're still celebrating each day as a mini milestone. Day by day.

The baby has been active again today and has several bouts of the hiccups. The hiccups are good, as they are a result of practice breathing, which the baby has been doing for weeks now. I go for my next ultrasound Friday morning.

This afternoon, the hospital's "music therapist" came by and played some relaxing music for me and the baby. Although I found it ti be a bit odd at first, the music she played was incredibly relaxing and helped distract my thoughts for a few minutes. It also broke up the monotony of the day.

And as the highlight of my day, Stefan and Ava came by for a visit this evening. She did the funniest thing while she was here: she found a pack of cleansing wipes I have in my suitcase, took them to Stefan and said, "For poo-poo!" We both about laughed ourselves to death. We also read to Ava a new book we got for her called "I'm a Big Sister!" We're trying to get her ready for the tremendous changes our family is about to experience once the baby arrives and comes home. As if her world hasn't been rocked enough recently...

All-in-all, a good day. But I did still cry at dinnertime. Like clockwork. Thanks SO VERY, VERY MUCH to all of those who are praying for us! We appreciate it and know God hears you.

New Realities

I am back in the hospital and have been here since late Sunday night. I was feeling this odd pressure and an overall sense of something's-not-right-here, so Stefan brought me back to the hospital, and lo and behold, the midwife said I was beginning to dilate! They were able to put the contractions at bay with a triple shot of Terbutaline, but there is nothing that can be done to make them go away completely. There are a few more "big guns" they can use to help ease contractions, but overall, nothing can be done to stop true labor. The doctors told me that if the baby really wants to come, he'll come, and there must be a reason. Sometimes babies are simply better out than in, although I am hoping for the latter.

Of course, the doctors are hopeful, but several new realities have replaced our original hopes and dreams for this pregnancy. Our original hope of carrying to full term has been replaced with the new reality that we just have to take it day by day from now on. No one knows how much longer I will be able to go before delivering, but we know that every additional day in the womb is a tremendous gift. I still don't know if I'll be in the hospital for the duration of my pregnancy or just until the doctors feel I am stable enough to go back home. As much as I loathe being here, a part of me feels more comfortable being here. We live 40 minutes from the hospital (and that's if we miss rush hour), and my biggest fear is not being able to get here in time should real labor set in hard and fast (as it did with Ava). But I find that I sleep better here, and maybe it's because I know if something goes wrong, I'm already here. The food, however, is not good.

Because my digestive system is still a wreck, even after a week+ of being off of antibiotics, I saw a GI specialist yesterday. (I didn't even know GI specialists existed, and quite frankly, who would want to specialize in that?) As it turns out, I most likely have another infection. This time however, the infection is a result of the antibiotics. Because antibiotics kill ALL bacteria in your body - even good bacteria - your body becomes vulnerable to another infection because nothing is present to kill it. So I am back on antibiotics, this time for a longer duration and a stronger dose. I am not looking forward to the havoc these drugs may cause on my body, but again, if it might help the baby stay in a little longer, bring it on. I am eating yogurt with every meal to help aid the production of "good bacteria" in my body.

I have been crying a lot, mostly because it is one of the best stress relievers for me. When Ava was in the NICU, I cried every night at dinnertime like clockwork. It was as if I was letting out all the stress of the day. I am trying not to worry about what could happen, but that doesn't make it any less scary. Stefan has been my rock, as always, and I am so thankful I have him.

Ava is still too young to understand what is going on, thank goodness. She is saying her entire alphabet now, although we lead her for every letter; she simply repeats after us. She seems to get caught up on the letter F, though, as she pronounces it as a P. But we're getting there. It seems as if her vocabulary increases daily, and I must admit, I love listening to her try to pronounce words. Right now, the word sheep is "peesh." Totally backwards, but totally adorable. She turned 23 months on Sunday the 9th - the countdown to 2 has officially begun! I look forward to getting my alone time back with her. Coloring.
Playing. Running around. Reading stories. I miss it all, but know it is for the best of reasons.

30 Weeks!

Today we hit a milestone - 30 weeks. Baby's eyelashes and eyebrows are fully developed. He is opening and closing his eyes, and he weighs close to three whole pounds (at least we're hoping he's close to that). We're still 2 1/2 weeks away from the time Ava was born, so there's still a long way to go.

Praying for 36 healthy weeks!

The Queen of Worry

When it comes to worrying, I will fully admit I invented the concept. Or at least it feels like I did. When things are going wrong, I worry. When things are going right, I worry about how long it will be before something bad happens. It's just who I am and how I'm built. I may see the glass as half full, but then I stress about why it isn't overflowing.

Last night I listened to a sermon by the lead pastor at our new church (thank goodness for podcasts!). Andy Stanley is leading our church through a three-part series about worry, and the timing couldn't be better. At a time when I have nothing to do but lay here and worry, it was nice to hear some great words of wisdom. The sermon completely enlightened me and answered so many of my questions. Andy used Matthew 6:24-34 to illustrate Jesus' teachings about worry, and here's what hit home the most for me: I have done everything I can do to prolong this pregnancy and ensure the best possible health for our baby boy. Now, I need to trust God with the uncertain. With tomorrow. With everything else. I can't see the big picture like He can. I just know that He loves me and will provide for me.

I am getting my weekly progesterone injections.
I have been to every doctor's appointment and ultrasound.
I have gotten the steroid injections to develop the baby's lungs.
I have treated the infections.
I have abided by all bed rest rules and restrictions.

There is nothing more I can do. I have put myself on autopilot... actually, on "Godpilot." Worrying is not going to keep the baby in me for an additional minute. Worrying will not make my contractions cease (actually, stress only makes contractions worse). The sermon made perfect sense and was great therapy. It was also a great precursor to my night. I didn't sleep a wink last night. Dinner did not settle well with me (or the baby), and I spent the entire night sick and stressed. The sickness made me have contractions, which stressed me out. Which made me contract more, which made me even sicker. Which made me even more stressed out. The vicious cycle. I was this close to going back to the hospital this morning, but after talking to my doctor, we agreed that I would stay at home and see if my body could right itself without another trip to Labor and Delivery. I'm still not feeling great, but my condition hasn't worsened. I'm so thankful that I am still at home and not back at the hospital for a fourth time in seven weeks. But it would be lovely to rid myself of this nastiness and feel as good as I have been these past few days.

The baby has been super active. That's always reassuring. But I'm sure I'll figure out a way to worry about that, too. Give it to God, Jackie, give it to God. I'm way out of my league.

Lyrics to My Favorite Worship Song

The best word I can think of to describe this song is: calibrating. If you'd like to hear it, turn up your volume!

Jesus, Lover of My Soul (It's All About You)

It's all about You, Jesus
And all this is for You
For Your glory and your fame
It's not about me
As if You should do things my way
You alone are God
And I surrender to your ways

Jesus, lover of my soul
All consuming fire is in Your gaze
Jesus, I want you to know
I will follow you all my days
For no one else in history is like you
And history itself belongs to you
Alpha and Omega, You have loved me
And I will share eternity with You

It's all about You, Jesus
And all this is for You
For Your glory and your fame
It's not about me
As if You should do things my way
You alone are God
And I surrender to your ways

Obama Wins

All of the Blums were fast asleep by the time our nation announced its new president-elect. I tried to stay awake but couldn't keep my eyes open. And given the fact that I have been struggling to sleep at all recently, I decided to give up and just find out this morning. I think the last thing I remember was the NBC crew putting a vinyl overlay in the color of blue over the state of Ohio.

Unfortunately, I was unable to cast my ballot this year. I was so looking forward to voting in such a critical and pivotal election, but bed rest came on hard and fast, and by the time I learned I was confined to my sofa, it was too late to request an absentee ballot. I watched all of the debates, followed each campaign, and weighed all of the issues. I am not a republican or a democrat or an independent. I vote the issues on each election day, and that's something I take pride in. I was very sad not to have the ability to go to the polls, but if I really want to make a difference, I know there is so much more I can do.

I think that regardless of who won last night, the fight ahead remains the same. Americans can't depend on one person to bring our country back to life. And we won't be successful if we continually separate ourselves as republicans or democrats. We must come together as Americans.

Thanks to everyone who voted yesterday. What an amazing right we possess.

A Moment-By-Moment Surrender

A recent blog post by my very good friend Tracy was entitled "Let Go and Let God." It's one of those truisms in life that is far more easily spoken than lived. Unfortunately, these words never ring more loudly than when were in the middle of a struggle or a trial that sends us to our knees exclaiming, "Lord, please help me!" God wants nothing more than a personal relationship with us. He wants us to talk to Him, to cry to Him, to trust Him. It's the ultimate sign of good faith when you heartfully tell God that you need Him and that you trust Him and His plan. Ever since my pregnancy test showed that beautiful second pink line, I have vowed to let go and let God. It was so much easier to follow through on that vow early in my pregnancy, when everything was going well and the thought of another premature baby was far from thought. Now that I have reached a critical point, and signs of complications are abundant, I have become what I like to call a "Christian Indian Giver." One minute, I give it all to God, because I know He is in control. Not a minute later, I am filled with worry and stress. Was that a contraction? Why am I feeling pressure there? Was that another contraction? Will I go into labor if I drive myself to my OB appointment or take a shower and shave my legs? How is Stefan holding up? How will I be able to celebrate Thanksgiving or Ava's second birthday? Does my sister resent me for asking so much of her? What if after all of this - the drugs, the injections, the bed rest, the ultrasounds, the hospitals - it's still not enough? Then I remember that I gave it to God. And I took it back.

Stefan and I had another OB and ultrasound appointment this afternoon. The doctors say they are "pleased" with how things look now, even though things aren't as good as they were last week, right before I was discharged from the hospital. If the doctors are happy, why don't I feel better? My perinatologist told me today that I have the toughest job of all: to relax and try not to worry. That really is a tall order for me, who has stressed over everything since learning the meaning of the word.

So how do I do it? How do I not stress? The answer is to let go and let God... and to not take it back. The only way I'm going to be successful is to surrender every moment - every 60 seconds - if that's what it takes. Letting go and letting God is not a one-time event. It's an ongoing, moment-by-moment surrender. If I can spend every waking moment worrying, then I can certainly try to spend it talking to God. I think He'd like that.

A Kiss Goodnight

Every night since going on bed rest, Stefan has brought Ava downstairs so that I can participate in her tooth brushing routine, and sometimes story time. I say my special goodnight to Ava before Stefan takes her back upstairs to bed. As they disappear up the stairs, I have gotten in the habit of blowing her kisses, and tonight, she returned the gesture. She blew me a kiss for the first time. It melted my heart as I have been struggling to cope with Ava's newfound dependence on and favor for Stefan and my sister. Not that I don't love watching Ava become her daddy's girl. It's just that I wish I could still be as big in her life as I was just a couple of weeks ago. I know it's only temporary, but in the meantime, that goodnight kiss was exactly what I needed.

Feeling Blue

Blue is the word of the day. I've been feeling blue. I'm seeing blue. Lots and lots of blue... but not all bad!

My sister went to Carter's this morning to shop for our baby boys - mine and hers. Because my shopping ability is limited to the Internet for the time being, I asked her to pick out a few essential layette items for the baby. In my opinion, shopping for baby clothes online is next to impossible. Not only is the selection overwhelming, but the prices are inflated, too. So I depended on my sister's good taste (and keen eye for a good sale) to furnish baby's first wardrobe! She brought me a bag full of absolutely precious (in a masculine sort of way) pieces - from sleepers to onesies to his all-too-important coming home outfit. And let me tell you, she did not disappoint. There is so much blue in that bag! Oh my goodness. When Stefan and I learned that we were having a boy, we went through all of the totes of clothes from Ava's first year to see if we could find anything unisex to use for the new baby. We failed. I found white onesies in every size, and that's about it. So until this morning, our little boy was going to be naked, which would have been acceptable until about age 10.

There is a part of me that is angry and sad that I am missing out on preparing for our son's arrival, but then I remind myself that I am doing what I need to be doing right now to ensure a safe, healthy, and as-close-as-possible-to-full-term arrival. I joined a high-risk pregnancy support group last night called Sidelines. It is for moms and families dealing with the challenges of high-risk pregnancies, and they also provide support for moms on bed rest. There are chat rooms, message centers, and counselors who contact you individually to offer support for whatever you're feeling. All counselors and volunteers have endured at least one high-risk pregnancy themselves, so they know what we're going through. I'm looking forward to connecting with other moms who are on bed rest. It's funny... Millions and millions of women are put on bed rest each year to deal with complications during pregnancy. But when you're laying here day after day, you feel like you're the only one.

But right this moment, I seem to have found a cure for my blues... surround myself with piles of it.

The Weighting Game

It has been wonderful to be home. My cramps have subsided, and in turn, the contractions have decreased considerably. I'm feeling really good! I was able to be here to see Ava get ready for her first-ever trick-or-treat, as well as watch her run around like a maniac for an hour afterward to work off the sugar high. I feel so good that it's difficult to just lay here; I want to get up and help Stefan, who is running circles around me trying to keep the house clean, Ava fed and entertained, and his career afloat. He's Superman.

But being relatively cramp free doesn't necessarily translate into being worry free. My concern now is weight. During the past week or so, the cramps, drugs and loss of appetite have equated to a huge weight loss for me. I am just a mere 10 pounds over my original pre-pregnancy weight. The baby isn't suffering; he will take from me everything he needs to grow. But it's just not healthy, period. I have lost about 10 pounds in a week, so my new career is to pack on the pounds. This is ironic because I am craving salads, not burgers.

Big game today against Georgia... GO GATORS!