In no particular order, things from our first week with Joseph:
- Tucking Emy into bed tonight, I say, “I love Emy!” and with a huge grin and hug she squeezes me and announces, “LOVE ME!”
- Bennett and Emy have formed a partnership. On one hand it’s great to see them playing SO well together. On the other hand, they are playing so well together in all sorts of new and dangerous and messy ways:

- Reading 3rd Nephi with Christ visiting the Nephites, we’re discussing sacred vs. secret. Christopher is trying to understand the distinction and says, “Guys, was this sacred - having Joseph?” Yes. Yes, it was.
- Bennett can sign “B-E-N” and is trying to spell his name but it’s usually B-E-N-T-T-N-E-B or some such variation. Lots of Ns and Ts. Ben knows most of the ABCs in sign language and always asks us to sing that at circle time.
- Emy has decided Joseph will be an early reader:

- Moira has been signing the alphabet to Joseph. She’s also been singing to him a lot, it’s so sweet to hear.
- Tuesday morning we were in the sunroom and Moira, Bennett & Emiline went out to play in the yard. They were out there almost an hour (before the heat hit!) and we caught this picture of them:

- I’m 106lbs, trying to hold onto that weight! The goal is to stay above 100lbs.
- Kit ran to check in at the office before they took off this week for a big convention, Joseph was asleep, and I had four very awake kids so a nap was not an option. We put the time to good use:

- Joseph can lift his head and turn it side to side and push away from our chests when we are holding him. Impressive head control.
- Christopher & Moira both received thank you gifts from us for their extra special help this last month. They’ve done not just their chores but lots of extra things to help out around the house and are amazing at assisting me with Joseph and the younger kids. So we got them some special Big Brother/Big Sister gifts:
More on Christopher’s book later, he’s thrilled… yes, our kids get that excited over books. Educational books at that. This is what happens when you hide the tv, they have to get excited about something.
- Each month we’re going to take a picture of Joseph next to this little rhino a new friend gave us. Starting with one week (since I didn’t get a shot at birth with it!) then one month on through his first birthday:

That’s not the official shot, I’m saving the 12 for later. That’s just to show the rhino.
- Bennett has a little poster/worksheet thing he’s decided is his laptop. He carries it around, sets it up and pretends to type:

These are the things I don’t want to forget. I’ve had some moments that have emotionally caught me off guard but all in all? A pretty wonderful week. You know, beautiful and healthy new baby and four spectacular big siblings and a husband beyond compare. Not a bad week, I must say…

I’ll be posting more pictures in the gallery tonight.

He had quite the audience, which I think explains his expression - who are all these people?? I don’t know if Joseph is use to his crowd of adoring fans. Hard to sleep when your admirers want to get right in your face and poke you and hold you and squeeze you.

Oh, and first bath because the babies don’t get bathed after birth, just wiped off. We waited a few days to give him a sponge bath. The hospital told me they bath the babies because of the risk of bodily fluid on the baby getting on the nurses - it’s to protect the staff, they told me. But then the baby is shocked by the water and their body temp goes down and they stick them under the warmers to bring the temp back up and then you have to fight with the nursery staff to get your baby back and the soap dries out their skin. One nurse said if they don’t bath the baby they have to wear gloves until the baby is washed - and it’s not convenient for them. But the vernix on the baby (the white stuff) actually protects their skin and is good for them and it rubs in gently over the first couple days and wiping the baby down with a soft blanket was enough to get Emy and Joseph clean and sweetly smelling of new baby. Not that baby shampoo doesn’t smell nice, but it doesn’t smell as nice as fresh baby skin - so, we wait on the bath.

I had the moment today (I’ve had it with each of my kids, though it certainly struck the most brutally with Bennett’s pregnancy) - I looked down and realized I was alone. Joseph was no longer with me. (He was sound asleep next to me, but he was not with me.) And each time I’ve had that moment I am sad and I try to remember the feeling of that little body tucked up inside of me, kicking me and making me oh-so-uncomfortable. The memory fades too quickly. But it’s a strange sensation, the awareness that I am now alone in my own body.

Crawling into bed I looked down at sleeping Joseph and the love struck me with such force, it caught me off guard. That happens with each baby, too. You know you love them, but there are moments when you look at them and you almost have the wind knocked out of you - the depth of the love, the fierceness, there’s just no adequate way to describe how it feels to fall in love with your own child.

He’s not yet one week old and I cannot quite remember life before him. Hasn’t Joseph always been here, always been a part of our family, always been our son? Just as I cannot fathom how I lived 23 years without Kit in my life… we’ve had our kids close in age, and even when going on no sleep and a lot of insanity we’ve been eager to welcome each new child. And I don’t think we’ve really expressed why there was such an urgency for us, why we seemed to be in such a rush to have these children. We wanted them here. We wanted all of them, we didn’t want to miss anyone, didn’t want anyone to miss out on things. We wanted our children and we didn’t want to wait years between them because that would have meant more time we were missing children. Now they are here.

And the next thought that came to me that brought a huge smile to my face was,

“Now, let the wild rumpus BEGIN!!”

So, I’m trying with all my might to stay upbeat or at least not be downbeat. (Is that a word?) But it’s the evenings that are hard. When I was struggling with the PPD after Christopher, the sun would start to set around 5pm (winter baby) and I would be facing this eternal night of my depression on top of a baby miserable from an undiagnosed food issue that was making him scream, scream, scream in pain until at least 11pm, then pass out and sleep in little bursts all night. For about 45 minutes at a time he would sleep, then wake up and nurse and sob and nurse and sob and vomit and poop and start all over. ALL. NIGHT. LONG.

SO, when the sun would start to go down and I knew I was about to face that, again, I would burst into tears. Consistently, every night. It was hell on earth to be crazy in my own head while trying to care for this baby I desperately loved and not even trusting myself to be able to care for him alone. I couldn’t console him and it turns out it was my own breastmilk torturing him. It was just not pretty. I was insane. Truly, truly insane. It took a good six weeks for me to be able to laugh again (that was with the drugs, mind you) and it took well over six months for me to even feel semi-stable again. No wonder Kit felt prompted to quit his job and stay home with us. I would have been scared to leave me alone with the baby, too. I was scared to be alone with this little infant when I was failing at being his mother - at least in my own mind.

I’ve not had postpartum depression like that since. With Moira and Bennett they had me on antidepressants in the pregnancy to avoid such a crash. With Emy we were mindful of it and I had some depression postpartum but it was really triggered by the health challenges (recurring mastitis and thrush and bleeding nipples and such. Every time she would fuss and start crying to nurse I would burst into tears.)

I now believe a lot contributed to my depression after the first birth. A bad OB & an unpleasant hospital stay leading to a physically tough and painful recovery. Being separated from Christopher soon after birth and having to fight to have him brought back to me from the nursery (after they kept him a couple hours.) The early nighttime and lack of sunshine. Being relatively new in town with just two close friends - one out of town right then but back soon after and helping me keep going, the other also an absolute lifesaver when the PPD hit and she and her husband came to help us out the night I crashed. (Without those two friends helping us get through those first couple months, I don’t know how we would have held it together. They helped so very much and I realize that friends are crucial to postpartum survival.) A baby dealing with the food intolerance and reflux and misery. My rapid weight loss - I lost all my pregnancy weight and then some in the first week. (Thus our reason for cheering that I’m holding onto some weight now.) But the seasonal issue was something we really thought impacted me day to day - lack of sunshine is not good for me.

We’ve since tried to plan our pregnancies around the winter months. Even before our preemie and our fear of an RSV winter newborn, we knew it was best if I was not dealing with a newborn in the dark. Thus Moira in May, Bennett SHOULD have been born in May, and Emy & Joseph both in August. SUNNY months. I think it’s helping, to have some sunshine.

But still, when the sun begins to go down, seeing the sky darken now, the old fear and anxiety lingers. I feel the tension well up in my throat, my chest tightens. I wonder how the night will go, if I will get ANY rest or if it will be yet another marathon night of painful nursing and sobbing baby.

For the record - the nursing is painful. The cracks healed but I now have thrush - ouch, ouch, ouch. BUT this baby does not sob all night. He did one night cry for a couple hours, but since then he roots a bit and then latches on and nurses like a champ. So this is NOT like Christopher’s painful all night sobbing nursing thing.

Kit’s very aware of my mood in relation to sunshine and lights and how hard the evenings can be for me. We keep the kids’ routine and that helps. Lots of stories, scripture & prayer, snacks, cuddles, etc. The kids keep me going and that’s how I know I’m not depressed. During this pregnancy I was very much depressed at times, so much so that I could not bring myself to do anything. When the kids’ faces and requests to read stories and play with them was not enough to get me out of bed, then I knew something was seriously wrong and I had to get help. So I know that I’m still not there, that right now I am doing better than I was, because the real depression feels like it’s eating my will to move or speak or laugh. Right now, this is just me sometimes feeling sad. Anxious in the evening. But the kids can crawl into my lap and do something silly and I can laugh. I can still smile, and so long as they can make me smile then I know I’ll be okay.

I remember when I was pregnant with Christopher that I wondered how I could ever love another person as much as I loved Kit. Not that a love for spouse or child are comparable, but I was so in love with Kit that I just didn’t know how I could adore anyone on any level approaching that. Then I had Christopher and even with the PPD I fell very much in love with him and have loved him more and more and more every day since. Even on those days he made me bonkers.

Same thing, pregnant with Moira I did have the thought that I couldn’t love another child with quite the same adoration that I loved Christopher. Then she was in my arms and I started to slowly catch on - OH, you mean I’m going to love all of them this much?? Even writing that brings tears to my eyes…

So, I no longer fear that a new baby will be less loved. Bennett and Emy came along and entered the wild rumpus and there’s enough love… I’m confident that when they arrive and I see that face that I will love them as if I’ve known them forever. Because I believe that I have. I believe this little passel of monkeys was meant to be with us, that each one is our child forever and that years and years ago I began to get a hint of the joy that was to come with our sons and daughters. Before they began to arrive… but that’s a long other story.

My point is that there is plenty of love to go around. There are two beautiful aspects of this (well, at least two.) With each baby, the love just grows. You’ve all heard that cliche but it’s true. I heard it compared to a candle - each candle lit by another does not diminish the light of the first. It just provides even more light. There’s more and more love with each baby that comes. More chaos, and less sleep, but there is more love. You fall just as hard for baby number five as you do for baby number one.

Actually, that’s not true. You fall harder.

You do. When Moira came and I first let Christopher hold her, I fell in love with both of them. I loved Christopher even MORE because I saw him grow and I watched their relationship develop. Each child you welcome into your family makes you love your other children with a deeper and deeper appreciation because you see how each member of the family grows and stretches to welcome that new little one.

I won’t even get into how it alters your relationship with your spouse, because that’s a whole other post. You think you love your spouse on your wedding day? Just wait… just wait. And as hard as you may love them on the day you first see them smile at your new baby? You think you love them after that first little one comes, but then another comes and you love them more. I’ll have to save this for a new post. But Joseph’s birth day was… I’m staring at my computer at a loss for words.

It topped my wedding day. And that’s saying something. And I know Kit won’t be bothered by that because today I overheard him tell a friend that this birth experience is comparable only to the day we were in the temple together, being sealed as an eternal family. SO, I know he feels the same way…

Last night Joseph was being fussy. I nursed and nursed and nursed and then Kit took him. Sat next to our bed in the glider and held our son. I could see his profile in the dark room, backlit by a light by our sink. Just the outline of my husband, rocking my baby to sleep. And as exhausted as I was, as bone weary, I could not sleep. I lay there, trying to forever imprint that image in my mind. Wondering how I could ever love them more, love each of them, fully appreciate this life and these loved ones. Knowing, finally starting to realize, that I’m going to fall more and more and more in love with each of them every day.

Postpartum is hard, but there are also precious moments of peace and perspective…

Copying some old posts I need to remind myself of… or not remind myself of but they still make me laugh.

Post-partum coping list.
Things I adore about newborns.
Things I do NOT adore about newborns.

And note on help postpartum… I cannot tell you how wonderful it is when anyone comes to offer a meal or help after a new baby but I just realized today something. It’s NOT about the meal or the baby gift or the help folding a load of laundry. It’s about the company, THAT is what I so desperately need and appreciate postpartum. That little bit of contact with the outside world, a visit with a friend and a reminder that I’m not insane. Or that I am insane, but it’s okay. I am grateful for the food and help but what I am the very most appreciative of is the friendly face and the chance to sit and talk with a friend and to feel a bit less alone with the raging emotions of the postpartum stage. I laugh that it took me so many kids to realize this and I think Kit caught on awhile ago since I heard him telling someone on the phone, “No, you really don’t need to bring a meal but I know that Heidi would appreciate a visit with you.” He knows me better than I know myself. But I realize we’ve had someone stop by every day this week, even just for a few minutes, and it’s been a big blessing to have those visits…

I’m blessed to be a member of two different groups of parents - I’m a preemie mom, a micropreemie mom at that. And I’m a full term mom. Blessed may sound like a strange word in this context, but I have Bennett and with the experience of parenting him we’ve been changed forever. Part of that journey has included us being introduced to such an amazing group of micropreemie parents and their children and their stories never cease to inspire me.

But I’m also a parent to four full term babies. So many of the challenges and painful struggles these other parents face may not apply in our circumstances - we had two term kids before our preemie and now we’ve had two term kids since. We’ve been blessed with a broad range of parenting experiences, kid with diverse abilities and very different developmental paths.

Term parents do not always understand our paranoia since our preemie - the hand scrubbing, the isolation with a newborn, the gripping fear that now permeates our pregnancies. If they’ve not stood in the NICU next to a baby born far too soon, they may wonder why I can say with such a huge smile that I’m STILL PREGNANT in 105 degree weather at 9 months along - and to sincerely be grateful that I’m huge and waddling. And my deep, deep aversion to the hospital may seem odd. Our home birth/birth center friends agree the hospital is not ideal but for a preemie parent, a hospital has been life saving and it’s hard to imagine such a carefree and healthy pregnancy that an out of hospital birth is even a possibility. But it was for us - we went from one extreme (stat c-section at 23 weeks) to the other extreme (birth center full term births.) HUGE swing…

It’s a strange spot to be in, this preemie AND term parent location. Strange, but also such a luxury. For every person that says my baby is so little, I laugh and compare him to his preemie brother. But when I comment on our BIG baby, I get response about how small he is compared to this 9 or 10 pound baby… It makes me laugh. But it can also be awkward and leave me unsure how to proceed. I’ve not announced Joseph’s arrival to our preemie blog group because I feel uncertain - he’s a big, healthy, full term baby. Born at 39+ weeks gestation. We spent nine months hoping and praying for this. We are thrilled beyond words, but for parents that have not yet experienced a term birth or may never, doesn’t that kinda suck to hear about? So do I share our news or not? At some point it becomes obvious I’ve given birth, but I have no idea how to announce Joseph’s arrival without it potentially hurting someone that will not have this chance to get to term… so I just haven’t said anything. Which feels equally awkward and rather conspicuous. (And on that note - Hi, Preemie Blog Moms! )

Okay, I’ve been given good feedback - you are right, it was a brief time (just under a year) when we were trying for Bennett and miscarried but it made me so sad during that time if a friend got pregnant and did not tell me their exciting news. It felt like they did not think I was capable of being happy for their news because I was struggling with something of my own. I wanted to hear their announcements and share their joy, even if I was not pregnant myself. So better to share news, right?

I had a moment this morning that could only be compared to the way I felt when I knelt in the temple across from Kit and looked into his eyes on the day we were sealed. That day in the temple involved a lot of planning and organizing and excitement and coordinating of travel plans, but really it was just that moment that mattered. When I was there, holding Kit’s hand and feeling the enormity of the situation as we were married for time and for all eternity. Our forever family began.

This morning I was finishing up changing a diaper. Romantic, eh? Kit was helping the toddlers crawl onto the bed to say good-morning to Joseph. I looked around my room and saw my family. Kit, all five little ones. Everyone cooing over the baby, in our home, all together at last. I looked at Kit and I said, “Look at this - all of them.” And I felt that same sense of the enormity of this - our family. And this sense of peace, this overwhelming awe that we are here, that eight years after that moment with Kit I would be having that same emotion as I looked at the family we’ve been blessed with… they are here. They are here and healthy and safe.

Both of those experiences left me with such a perspective, this realization that at this very moment I am exactly where I am meant to be, that my life has lead me to this moment with these loved ones. That somehow everything has aligned and this is another one of those milestones in this eternal journey that I will treasure forever.

Oh, and a moment of sweetness until we get pictures posted - our doula had just dressed Joseph for us and handed him back in an outfit he outgrew about 5 minutes later. I wasn’t expecting him to be quite so big:

Update: My favorite comment from today is Moira - “I tried to calm him down but he wanted your boob.”

Some little posts up on the school blog.

I’m STILL PREGNANT!! More pregnant than I have ever been in my life, passing C’s pregnancy now by one day. Insane… I thought something was happening Monday afternoon when the contractions were going from 1:30pm until 9:30pm and every 5 minutes, but nope. So I decided to try and sleep through them and wait for morning, if possible. But after getting up with contractions every hour I gave up and got up at 2:30am and I’m sure I’ll be exhausted today… sigh…

My new glasses came in from Zenni Optical and so far I love them. I got the $8 set for glasses, almost identical to what I have now (but way, way cheaper since I got mine from Sams) and so far I love them. They seem to fit better, too, but that may be because my kids beat my old frames up. I also ordered prescription sunglasses in a chunky black frame that are cute, those were $15. With shipping for both pairs I only paid $29 total!! It took two weeks to arrive. I’ll post pictures later, when the entire house isn’t asleep except me and Mojo the Monkey.

We got thank you gifts for the older two kids. Since Christopher can now read the blog (and likes to read it over my shoulder) I won’t say what yet, but we got something for Christopher & Moira to thank them for all their help in the pregnancy. They’ve been huge, huge assistants with taking care of the house and the younger kids so we’ll give them these treats when the baby comes. I admit, we got them educational stuff. But it’s still fun.

I’m wondering if Mojo is scared to come out when it’s 105 degrees. I would be. There was a cat in our yard so all the kids raced out to see and I sat in the shade with them - I lasted maybe 10 minutes. I realize my internal thermostat is off but MY WORD, IT’S HOT. Between the elevated body temp of being pregnant and lugging around this little baby chunk-o-cuteness, I’m sweltering. And at night, Emy’s decided her favorite spot to sleep (naptime, too) is with her head tucked right under my chin. So I have an internal and external space heater. If I try to scoot away from Emy she just scoots closer and flings body parts over me as if to trap me in place. Her little sensors to let her know if I try to escape. She’s been out of our bed for months but suddenly she’s coming into our room every night to scootch in. Which will be a problem soon if Mojo is in that spot.

Bennett just wandered past (I’m on the couch, Kit’s in bed) and I snagged him to try and get him back down. He kept insisting, “Mommy, I need my Daddy.” Poor Kit… he carried him back to bed and they’re asleep again.

Moira was asked to give a talk in primary on Sunday. If we can manage I’ll send her with Kit to help and it will be brief (couple minutes) but I’m nervous. I know at that age (5) they don’t expect much coherency from kids but still. I know her speech is a challenge and I’ve seen people’s expressions when they are trying to understand her but have NO CLUE what she is saying and it still breaks my heart every time. She’s so bright, and so full of ideas and fun and jokes and questions. But because her speech is hard to understand, Kit and I both fear that people are not realizing her age (they assume she’s younger) and not realizing how bright she is - that she understands everything they are saying to her, even if she cannot clearly express herself back. I can see now how the speech is posing problems for her more and more when she interacts with others and we’re constantly trying to figure out more ways to help her overcome that. We can translate for the most part but she’s old enough now to realize we’re translating for her and how is that making her feel? Sometimes she’ll say something to someone, they’ll not catch it so I try to explain and I watch her face as she hears me repeat what she’s said and I hate that. I hate wondering how that must feel, to need a translator and to be so misunderstood. I fear she’s going to give up and stop trying to express herself. We see how frustrated she becomes when she’s upset and cannot quickly convey what she wants to say and the stress only makes it that much harder for her to get the words out. I hate to see her struggle…

It’s 4:15am. I’m gonna need a nap today…

All of our kids take turns reading scriptures. Emy just started joining in, and Heidi thought it was too cute, so we decided to get it on tape before they go and grow up on us. And here you are.

Moira (5 years old)
- horse teacher
- astronaut
- mom
- teacher who teaches at home
- baker
- firefighter
- light person who makes lights
- helper to help people
- ice cream person
- in Daddy’s rock & roll band

Christopher (6.5 years old)
- I want to be someone who builds and programs robots.
- I want to homeschool.
- I want to be a dad.
- I want to be a rock & roll band player. (With Dad.)

Bennett (3.5 years old)
- W
- 3
Bennett is apparently planning to be a Muppet?

Emy (23 months)
- “No grow up.” And that’s a quote…

Kids are looking at their albums and Kit’s. Random thoughts:

- Emiline and Moira look so much alike as babies that I cannot tell them apart in some shots and they cannot tell themselves apart in most shots.
- Christopher has my complexion but the rest all have Kit’s complexion.
- Bennett & Emiline have my wavy hair, but Mo’s hair is far darker than Kit’s or my hair as kids. Christopher & Moira both have Kit’s straight hair. And on the topic of hair, Mo’s hair is now so thick and long and she does this little hair flippy thing to get it out of her face and oh, my, it kills us every time. I told Kit I’m sticking her in ponytails for the rest of her life to avoid seeing that little hair toss that makes her look way too old for my tastes.
- Nurses made comments about Bennett’s dark eye brows and long eyelashes being from the steroids (common among preemies) but really ALL of our kids have thick, dark eyebrows.
- In most of Bennett’s “Baby’s First…” shots he’s on oxygen. Okay, pretty much his entire baby book, since he was on oxygen for his first 10 months… but looking at them made me sad to remember how fragile he was. There are some shots that he and Christopher look SO much alike but the oxygen tubing is a glaring reminder of who is who. Now the glasses give it away. Okay, the wavy, crazy Bennett hair, too.
- Our kids have a strong family resemblance.

This has been fun to see their baby pictures and remember how tiny each of them was and how much the older kids wanted to cuddle on and love the new baby. We thought the older sibling seemed SO BIG when we had new babies but really, they were all still just babies. C was not yet 18 months when M was born, M was 21 months when B was born, B was 15 months adjusted when E was born (19 months actual age.) E is now 23 months old, she’s by far our most talkative kid at this age. She runs and leaps and climbs and bosses people around. (Couple days ago she yelled, “GO TO SLEEP, BENNETT!!”) She’s developmentally our oldest child when the new one arrives. And yet she’s still my baby. Itty bitty (just hitting 21 lbs!) and cuddly and snuggly and still just my baby. But when I see her holding Mojo I know she’ll start to look like a big girl and that makes me sad in some ways.

Everyone napped today except Christopher & me. We sat at the table talking, eating french toast sticks. I was trying to memorize his face at this stage. He’s turning seven years old this fall. SEVEN. And I was left once again wanting to freeze these moments somehow because they fly by too fast. My babies are growing too, too fast.