Happy 6 months, Eli!

Eli's 6 month birthday was actually 4 days ago...but as the 4th child in the family, it's just par for the course that this update is late, right?  (poor 4th child!!)

This little guy is a butterball of joy. He is my biggest baby yet--18 whopping pounds! That's 2 lbs more than Silas at 6 months...and...uh...Micah and Benji barely weighed more than that at TWO YEARS OLD! He is growing out of 6 month onesies and fits comfortably in 9 month clothes. It is crazy having such a big baby!
Little Man loves his milk! After our first rough month, I'm so glad that breastfeeding has been successful. We feed on demand...and he demands a lot! I love his thunder thighs! This kid has rolls!

We haven't started solids yet but we will in the coming weeks--all his older brothers started eating real food around 7 months or so.

Eli is on a 3 nap a day schedule (though not always at the same time or length every day). I moved him out of the rock sleeper a few weeks ago into a pack and play in my room. He still wakes up a lot at night (Yawn for mommy).

 Eli loves to be in the action! He is a squealer and grunter. He also loves to be tickled and talked to. Micah and Benji do a great job looking after Eli while I am in the shower or while I make dinner. Silas is such a good big brother too and loves to talk to "E-why" and nuzzle and "wrestle" with his baby brother.

 This is his new "trick"--Look, mama! I can sit up! He's still working on those ab muscles but he can sit up for a few minutes before falling or diving forward (we've had a few bonks before mama could catch him! Poor baby!).
He also loves to roll from his back to his belly but somehow has forgotten how to roll back so I have to "rescue" him a lot from this position. Aaron and I have witnessed him pushing up with his arms and also on his toes. Uh oh! Does this mean early crawling??? Slow down, baby!

Eli seems to be following in the footsteps of his older brothers: He loves this jumper! Some days, he jumps till he drops! He also loves to kick, either in his rocker chair (so he can make it rock), or in his bed (thunk! thunk! thunk! thunk!). In fact, I have bruises on my legs from Mr. Kicky-pants!

He also has started to play with toys, his current favorites being a set of plastic keys and a tiger that buzzes when he pulls a cord, or anything that he can put in his mouth and slobber over. He is my drooliest baby! I have to change his shirts on a regular basis because he drools so much. Nope, no teeth in sight!

He loves his mama the best, though he always wants his daddy to hold him and kiss his neck--lots of giggles! I tried and tried to get him to smile for this picture. He looks so serious but he really is a happy baby!

Everyone told me that after you have three kids, adding a fourth is a piece of cake. This hasn't exactly been true for me. I  feel like I am still trying to figure out my life as a mom of four, especially how to be a work-at-home mom of four! Most days I feel like I am being pulled in a million different directions every 5 minutes, especially since Micah and Benji are out of school for the summer too. Whew!

I would write more about our sweet baby but...he just woke up from his nap! Happy 6 months little boy!

Happy 3 months, Eli!

Three Months Today!

Elijah Jefferson Meng is THREE MONTHS OLD today! Happy 3 months, baby!

 

Here he is in all his 7lbs 10 oz glory. We've come a long way since December 23. 

 

The first month after he was born was very difficult. In fact, Aaron and I kept talking about how his first month reminded us of Micah and Benji's first month. In reality, the twins first month was nothing like their little brother's but the overwhelming, emotional difficulty felt the same. 

 

Eli had a tongue tie that went undiagnosed for a month. Looking back, it was so frustrating (to use a mild word) because I asked the lactation consultant in the hospital if he was tongue tied, 2 LCs that we saw in the first 2 weeks after his birth, and a pediatrician. They all said NO, he doesn't have a tongue tie. The thing was, he didn't have a traditional tongue tie, but a posterior tongue that was difficult to diagnose. 

But he had all the symptoms, the worst of which were excruciating, toe-curling pain while nursing (which ultimately led to cracked and bleeding nipples), terrible gas pains for Eli, screaming after every feed, wanting to nurse constantly, reflux, and screaming, screaming screaming. 

There was much crying for me and for my poor baby boy.  

 

Eli was the first baby we bought formula for. I was seriously considering giving up nursing. I felt like a failure every time we gave him a bottle. We supplemented every day for about 2-3 weeks.  Finally, after doing hours and hours of research, I pushed aside all those "No's" and demanded an appointment with an ENT. I KNEW he had a tongue tie. At four weeks, we had the appointment and guess what? He had a posterior tongue tie. 

Mama knows best.

Eli had his tongue clipped (more tears for him and me) on a Thursday and by Monday, nursing was 75% better. It continued to improve even more over the next month. 

No more screaming after nursing. No more massive spit-ups after every feed. No more pain for me. 

It got better

But that first month was ROUGH and LONG. 

But now we are at 3 months and time is flying by. 

Eli is a CHUNK: 15lbs. 

I can't believe it. After having twin preemie babies, I am constantly amazed that I have such a delightfully fat baby.

 

Eli loves his family, especially Aaron. He loves, loves, loves his Daddy! They "talk" together every night. Aaron has the magic touch that can get Eli to sleep almost every night.

Eli is very vocal and animated. He loves to smile, be tickled, and kissed on his delicious, fat cheeks!

He has an delightful little laugh.

All his brothers adore him. Silas and Eli are beginning to be best buddies. Silas is such a good big brother; he always tries to comfort "E-I" when his baby brother is crying. This morning, when Eli was crying (as I was trying to suck his nose out with that horrible torture device), I heard Silas saying, "E-I! E-I! It's ok!" over the baby monitor. Sweet, sweet brothers.

We love you precious baby! Happy 3 months little guy. We look forward to many more happy days with you in the future.

The BIGGEST surprise of my life!

I meet so many people who tell me, "Oh, I always wanted twins!"

Growing up, I never had this thought. Don't get me wrong: having twins is great (crazy...but great!) but I never wanted twins, basically because I never thought I could  have twins.

"Twins don't run in our family." I remember my  mom saying.

And that was it. The end. There had never been...so there never would be twins in our family. Right? (see "Scientific Note" at the end if you are curious about the types of twins that run in families).

WRONG!!

The day I found out I was having twins was the biggest surprise of my life. Want to hear the story? It's a good one. :)

Aaron and I were newlyweds and had just had the "when do we want to have kids" talk. We happily decided that waiting 3 years would be just right.

And God shook his head and laughed.

BOOM! I was pregnant the next month.

We were not happy. There were tears, terse conversations, hurt feelings, overwhelming worry.
We were only 22 and had been married eight months. I was still in college.

Aaron had an especially hard time adjusting to this life-altering news. The "plan" was that I would finish school and then he would be able to finish his degree. Now, that wouldn't happen.

But, like it or not, we were going to have a baby. My first ultrasound was scheduled at 11 weeks.

"I don't want to go." Aaron told me. "The baby will just look like a peanut right now. I'll go to the next one."

I was pretty miffed that he didn't want to go but I wanted to avoid another fight.  So, I sighed and went to the appointment by myself.

For anyone who hasn't had a baby, first ultrasounds are awkward. I expected it to be like all the pretty ultrasounds on “A Baby Story:” a subtle hand-held monitor gliding gently over the mother’s belly. I certainly didn’t expect a curling iron shaped condom-covered stick invading my private sanctuary.

But the real shocker came when I looked at the screen.

The doctor was so calm. “I thought your uterus felt kind of big. You're having twins."

And then my brain exploded. 

April 20 2007: The biggest surprise of my life.

Not really. 

But I went into shock. I broke out in hot flashes and hives laying there on that cold table, covered only in a paper gown.

“I’m having twins?!” I choked.

"Yep. You're having twins." Serene doctor said serenely.

(How could she be so serene?!?!?!? How was everyone not FREAKING OUT? I felt like someone should be shaking me by the shoulders and screaming, "HOLY CRAP, GIRLFRIEND!! YOU ARE ABOUT TO BE A MOM OF TWOOOOO BABIES!!!! BECAUSE YOU'RE HAVING TWINS!!!)

And I was. There they were: two little gummy bears floating and waving and punching at each other through the hair-line membrane that separated them. Twins.

Twins!

After the ultrasound, I slowly got dressed, my heart racing and my hands shaking.

"Well, you just got the surprise of your life, didn't you?" A nurse said when I came out of the dressing room.

I nodded vaguely. I was in a  haze.

Then I started smiling. I was having twins.

Then the smile turned a little twisted. Because Aaron wasn't with me.
 Heh heh heh. Payback, baby.

I called him, inwardly cackling.

Aaron: Hey! How'd it go?
Me: Great! Guess what?
Aaron: What?
Me: We're having TWINS!
Aaron: oh, haha! Good one. No we're not.
Me: Yes. We are.
Aaron: (laughing) You're kidding me!
Me: I'm not kidding you.
Aaron: (pause. not laughing now) You're freakin' kidding me....!
Me: Nope. We're having twins, babe. I've got pictures.
Aaron: (laughing hysterically) [I heard a co-worker in the background asking him what he is laughing about] We're havin' TWINS!

I spent the rest of the day in a happy twin-haze. I smiled so much my face hurt. My ears also hurt from the number of people who screamed in the phone after I told them the good news.

It was one of the happiest, most surprising days of my life. 

This picture never ceases to amaze me.

And that, dear friends, is how I found out I was going to be a mother...times two.

So yes, even if twins don't run in your family, they could still HAPPEN TO YOU. 

Scientific Note (for those who are curious): Fraternal twins run in families, which occurs when the mother releases two eggs.
Identical twins --where the fertilized egg splits--are spontaneous and can happen to ANYONE, although it is rare (4/1000 births are spontaneous identical twins).

And wouldn't you know? We were lucky enough to get identical twins.

My Christmas Miracle: Eli's Birth Story

This is a birth story. Therefore, it is long. Also, may contain gory birth details. Read and enjoy at your own risk.  

 Eli's birth was simply miraculous.

Yeah, yeah. I know. That is such a cliche. Every birth is miraculous, right? Right.

No, but REALLY! My little boy, born on December 23, 2014, had such a beautiful, wonderful, miraculous beginning. Here's Eli's birth story....

I was wracked with worry in the months, weeks, and days leading up to Eli's birth. Being due at Christmas is not fun...at all.

I was worried about who would take care of my kids, the weather, which midwife would be on call at the hospital, and most of all....the unpredictability of natural labor.

WHEN WOULD IT HAPPEN???? (GAHHH!!!!)

"I just hope I can be home for Christmas," I would tell people after confessing that his due date was December 25.

I really did not want to have a baby on Christmas day.
1. that would make for a sucky Christmas for my 3 older boys.
2. That would make for a sucky birthday for Eli for the rest of his life.

"You know," Aaron teased me. "This is why people schedule inductions."

But he knew that I wanted to go into labor on my own. So, all I could do was wait and pray...

...while scrambling to decorate, shop, sew Christmas presents, mail boxes, make and freeze meals, schedule a babysitter every day in the 3 week "labor window"....

...and wait and pray.

So in the middle of all this waiting, praying and gestating, everyone in my family gets the throw-up GI bug. Sweet!!

So my prayers changed to, "Please God! Do not let me get sick!!! That would be the worst thing ever."

Well, on December 22nd, the day before I went into labor, "the worst thing ever" happened. Yep, mama got the bug. Thankfully, compared to the rest of my family, I didn't get that sick. Just felt terrible and was in bed all day.

Since I was convinced that I was going to deliver after my due date, my hope and prayer now became, "Please let me get my strength back before I go into labor. " I mean, all I ate all day on December 22 was 10 salteen crackers and some ginger ale. Not a great foundation for the marathon that is labor.

Well....no such luck. At 2am on December 23, I woke up with a twingy contraction. Since I had been having twingy contractions off and on for about a week, I didn't think a lot of it. But 6 minutes later, another twingy contraction. Then another.

"Aww, crap." I thought. Then I took a moment to marvel in the irony of  being two days from my due date and SO OVER BEING PREGNANT, and how I was now not glad that I was in labor.

From 2am-6am, I alternately timed the contractions (about 6-10 minutes apart) and slept--which totally messed up the pattern on my contraction calculator app.

A little before 6, I was getting too uncomfortable to lay in bed anymore. Things were picking up. Aaron came in to say goodbye to me before work (dear, sweet husband was sleeping on the couch to give more room in the bed to me and my 6 pillows).

"Uhh...I'm in labor." I told him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

"Ok if I go into work for a while to get everyone settled?"

"Sure."

Yes, dear readers. My husband went to work. After all, my last labor was 60 hours. For all we knew, this could be the tip of the iceburg.

I decided to take a shower at 6:45. Fifteen minutes and 4 contractions later, I called Aaron: "I need you to come home."

I texted my doula, Debborah, and let her know that today was the day! She said she was on her way over to my house.

The contractions were getting closer and stronger: 3-5 minutes apart. At 8am, I looked at my babysitting schedule chart to see who agreed to be "on call" for the day. It was my friend Kimberley from church.

Miracle #1: This was a miracle because Kim is my ONLY friend who is not married and doesn't have any kids. Because my boys had all had the stomach bug in the past few days, I was SO GLAD that we didn't have to take them over to someone else's house and potentially expose other kids to our GI nastiness.

Kim and Debbie got to the house a little before 9am.  Kim took Micah, Benji, and Silas to the bedroom and they watched PBS kids and played with toys.

I discovered that if I sat down, I could get a 5-6 minute break in between contractions. If I was walking around, I was having them every 2-3 minutes. And since I had not packed my bag yet (I know, I know! But seriously, I was convinced that I was going to go late!), I was not getting many breaks.

I was handling the contractions well and talking and joking in between but at 10:45, we decided that we should probably go to the hospital if we were going to (try to) avoid the car ride from hell.

I remember having 2-3 contractions from the front door to the car, standing with my hand on the door handle and  saying, "I do NOT want to get in the car." I remember with my labor with Silas, the car rides were 100% horrible.

Miracle #2: The 15 minute car ride was bearable. I had 4 contractions on the way over but they were not as intense as they had been at the house. Thank God.

I got the royal treatment at the hospital. ie. they wheeled me up in a wheel chair. Why? Basically my contractions told my legs to stop working.

We got to L&D and in between contractions, met the nurse, Katie. I knew I was going to have to be checked soon and I was dreading it.

1. Cervical checks are extremely painful for me.
2. With Silas, I was in labor for 16 hours before we went to the hospital and was only dilated to 2 centimeters.

Well, we got some good news (despite the horrific pain of the check).

Miracle #3: I was dilated to 7 centimeters. WOO HOO!

Also:

Miracle #4: My favorite midwife, Katie (yes, Katie-Nurse and Katie-Midwife) was on call!! Double WOO HOO!

My plan was to labor in the tub so while I did the required 20 minutes on the monitor (while rolling around on the birth ball), Debbie started filling the bathtub (which had jets!) and the nurses started filling the AquaDoula--which is just fancy birth-talk for a big blow up tub.
 
By this time, I was starting to lose my sense of humor. "Are we almost done with this STUPID MONITORING?" I said.

Finally, I was able to rip off those stupid, plastic monitors and that stupid hospital gown ("One size chokes all!") and get in the bathtub.

The jets felt amazing on my back, which is where the majority of my pain was during each contraction. The only annoying thing about the bathtub was that, because they were filling the AquaDoula from the shower nozzle, the connection from the nozzle to the hose was loose and  spraying cold water all over my head. I was in THE ZONE though and was only mildly annoyed by this--and also mildly amused by Aaron, Debbie and nurses who were frantically trying to control the icy spray (they did).

By this time in my labor, I lost all concept of time. I stayed in the bathtub for a "while," until they told me that the AquaDoula was full enough for me to get in.

Out of the water, the contractions were intense. I think I had 2-3 big ones just walking from the bathroom back into the room (like 12 feet).

I really enjoyed the Aqua Doula experience. I had heard that laboring in a big tub was an "amazing" experience. It was a great experience but different than I thought it would be.

Laboring in the water didn't take away the pain of the contractions (somehow I thought it would?? Dumb. It's not drugs) but it definitely carried the "weight" of each contraction. This made the labor so much easier to bear.

Also, being in the water gave me a break (3-5 minutes?) in between each contraction, whereas out of the water they were coming one on top of the other. So, in those breaks, I was able to relax.

My midwife, Katie, also came into the room during this time and stayed with me until I gave birth. She was so soothing and encouraging. During each contraction, I reached out for Aaron's hand and Debbie's hand and clung, moaned, and breathed (and hollered!) through them. I could hear Debbie murmuring prayers over me, Aaron encouraging me to breathe, and Katie soothing me through each one. In between contractions, Debbie massaged my shoulders, back, and feet with peppermint and lavender essential oils (in fact, I have a very distinct "scent memory" of those oils combined with the tangy smell of the rubber from the pool).

The contractions were getting really strong and I started to feel "pushy." Then, all of a sudden, WOOSH!

"My water just broke!" I cried. (It was nice that it broke in pool, right?)

Two-three contractions later, I was starting to "OHHHHHH" really loudly and Katie suggested we move from the pool to the bed (since water births aren't allowed at this hospital).

Oh my word. The worst part of labor was getting out of the pool. I think it was the only time I actually screamed a bit. I had to swing my leg over the pool (it was about 3 feet high) and then a contraction came crashing down on me.

"Ahh! Ok! I am just going to sit here." I said, straddling the side of the pool. "This feels good."

The contraction ended and Katie and Aaron practically carried me to the bed. It was propped up and I laid on my right side.

About this time, random-male-resident John enters the room!!! Hi John! I did not expect you nor was I very aware of you but here you are to observe me in all my birthing glory!!

It was gettin' real, folks.

I was really hollering and really praying: "Jesus! Jesus, help me! Help me!"

I think I must have prayed this a lot because about this point, Katie really sweetly said, "He's here! He is helping you!"

Aaron told me later that my praying was really cute. He also told me that even though I swore a few times too, no one would have doubted my testimony while giving birth.

"Ok, Brittany! This is where we are going to have to work together." Katie said with her hot cloths and encouraging words.

"Breathe, Brittany! Breathe!" Aaron said urgently. (He later told me that I was turning a bit purple and he was kind of worried).

I clung to Debbie's hand as I pushed, hollered, and prayed.

Four, intense, firey pushes and....

"His head is out!"

A pause...one more...and my squalling baby was in my arms, very clean and very slippery.

He was perfect, precious, and loud, all 7 pounds and 10 oz and 20.5 inches of pure glory.

Miracle #5: Elijah Jefferson Meng was born at 1:38, after less than 12 hours of labor. Now THAT was a miracle.

Miracle #6: The side-lying pushing worked. I only had a minor tear...after having a 3rd degree tear with Silas.

(Side Note: Moms everywhere: Don't you wish that all the discomfort of having a baby was over the minute the baby is born?? Oh my word...the belly "massaging," stitching, and after-birth contractions are THE WORST!!! Ok, "side note" over).

Katie was great with the after-care. We waited a good-long-time to cut the cord (it was nice and white!) and I nursed Eli while she stitched me up--while John observed! Hi John!!!

Miracle #7:  I got everything on my labor "wish list." I didn't even get an IV. The labor went so quickly and so well and so naturally that we had to fill out the check-in paper work after he was born.

Aaron left around 3:30 to go relieve Kim and bring the boys to the hospital to meet their baby brother. It was amazing to get this picture:

I have FOUR SONS!

Miracle #8: I got to go home the next day, on Christmas Eve. So, I got my deepest wish, my Christmas Miracle: To have Eli before Christmas and be home with all my boys on Christmas morning.

Christmas was perfect. The birth was perfect. And Eli Jefferson? Well, he's pretty perfect too.

Symbols of Hope: Remembering Loved Ones at Christmas time

"Here, I made you something," my husband handed me an object one night before dinner.

It was a few weeks after my miscarriage.

"Do you know what it is?" He asked eagerly.

I smiled, confused but pleased by his gift. My husband is not typically crafty person. Nor a gift-giving person.

"Uh...key chain?"

"Well, yes." He rolled his eyes. "But look at this pattern. Do you recognize it?"
 
I shook my head.

I watched, bemused, as my husband dashed through the house and found a plastic pirate doll.

"Look!" he pointed. "It's Izzy! See the pattern on her bandana?"

Source

 And then I did see and...Oh. 

 I made the connection and my eyes filled with tears.

You see, our 7 year old son named the baby we lost, Izzy, after the pirate from one of his favorite Disney shows. Before the miscarriage, I rolled my eyes at the name, chuckling and shaking my head, thinking, "I would never name my baby Izzy."

But that was the only name the baby got.

I clutched the keychain in one hand and gripped my husband's hands with the other...callused hand with strong, square fingers, hands that held me when I wept for the loss of our child, hands that wove a pink and white key chain.

"I made this for you so that you can always have Izzy with you."

My husband, like many men, didn't have many words when we went through this time of grief. He felt and grieved in his own way, a way that was different from my way.

But he made a key chain for me, in memory of our child.

It was a symbol of loss, of acknowledgment, of remembering.

Christmas is usually a time of hope and happiness for most families. But it can also be a time of grief as we remember loved ones who are no longer with us.

We bought an ornament for our tree this year--a plastic pirate doll: Izzy.

I was hesitant at first.

"It's really expensive." I told my husband as my mouse hovered over the BUY icon.

"It's doesn't matter." He told me. "Get it."

So I did. And Izzy came in the mail in a little white box and we hung her on our tree.

It's been almost a year since I found out I was pregnant: it was December 14. And instead of cradling a 4 month old baby (boy? girl?), I am hanging an ornament on our tree.

It is sobering....but, by the grace of God, not sad.

And I do not use that phrase lightly. His grace has carried me, buffered me, pushed me, grown me...in agonizing ways in the past year. 

This has been one of the hardest years of my life, but it has been one of soul-wrenching growth as well, growth that has been fostered by faith and has led to hope.

"And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance;  and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope;  and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our heart" (Romans 5:3-5).

I've carried my key chain this year, just as I've carried Izzy in my heart.
We put an ornament on our tree, not as a symbol of loss, but as a symbol of Hope.

Because His hope has not disappointed us.  His love will continue to carry us through every season.

How do you remember your departed loved ones at Christmas?
How do you seek hope, even in time of intense grief?

You can read more about our miscarriage journey here: 

Sweet Iz: Our Miscarriage Announcement
Miscarriage and Faith: Suffering and God's Goodness
Miscarriage and Faith: Giving Thanks IN…not FOR
Miscarriage and Faith: Walking through the Valley
Miscarriage and Faith: Searching for Beauty
Pregnancy after Loss: Survivor's Guilt
Remembering Izzy: Pledged to God

Meng Menu + What I'm stocking in my freezer for baby-go-time

Sunday: Chicken-Bacon-broccoli alfredo

Monday: Pork shoulder roast w/bbq sauce, twice baked potatoes, corn

Tuesday: Sausage and kale soup, rolls

Wednesday:  Chicken, broccoli and rice casserole

Thursday: Dijon pork chops, roasted red potatoes, green beans

Friday: Out to eat

Saturday: Sloppy joes, chips, carrots

Sunday: Spaghetti and meatballs, bread, salad

Monday: Chicken and rice w/ dijon gravy, green beans

Tuesday: Pulled pork sandwiches, chips, carrots

Wednesday: Asian marinated chicken thighs, rice, broccoli

Thursday: Pork loin, stuffing, peas

Friday: Out to eat

Saturday: Spinach-sausage lasagna roll ups, salad, bread 

So, I took my 36 week belly grocery shopping today. I also took one of my 7 year old boys and it was a good thing too because he was a great helper as his mama huffed and puffed up the aisles of Kroger. I seriously was looking for a bench to rest because I was so tired. "So tired" actually doesn't even describe how tired I was. 

 Anyways, it is over. I am alive. I spent $268 which is awesome considering that I am going to double everything that is highlighted above for a freezer meal. 

I am due December 25 and I have been doubling recipes and stocking up on freezer meals for the past 2 weeks or so. I have 5 meals frozen so far. By the end of these two weeks hopefully my freezer will boast of these meals for my family: 

Chili (add rolls)

Cheeseburger Soup (add rolls)

Shepherd's pie

Chicken Pot Pie

Lasagna (add salad)

Asian marinated chicken thighs (add rice and microwave a veggie)

Chicken-Bacon-broccoli Alfredo (I am going to freeze cooked chicken and bacon and pair with a bag of frozen broccoli for a quick just-cook-the-pasta-pour-in-a-jar-of-sauce meal)

Chicken, rice, broccoli casserole

Pulled pork for sandwiches (add chips, apples/carrots. I bought a 7 pound roast today so hopefully we will get 4ish meals out of this roast. 

Spinach-sausage lasagna roll ups (add salad)

Twice baked potatoes (easy side dishes)

So, that's about 10 dinners that I will (hopefully) have in my freezer. We also have friends who have offered to make us dinners, which is great as I really want to take it easy for about a month after baby is born.

I also bought stuff to make (and freeze) breakfast burritos for quick breakfasts for the twins for busy school mornings. And homemade bread....and muffins. 

I am insane.

Nesting is exhausting.

Say "Congratulations!"--it's the Christian thing to do.

When I was 13 years old, my mom took my older sister and me to a meeting for a para-church organization that did puppet ministry. We were introduced to the leader and a few of the other teens.

One introduction shocked me, mostly because of my mother's reaction.

"And this is Stephanie," the leader said, gesturing to a pretty blond girl. "She's 16 and she's pregnant."

"Oh, congratulations!" My mom exclaimed.

There were a few other details shared about the pregnancy, though I can't remember if the girl was going to parent her baby or place the baby in an adoptive family. Either way, she was 16. She was pregnant.

And my mom told her "Congratulations."

To my 13 year old self, this was really weird...no, not weird. Wrong. How could my mom congratulate this girl?
She was a teenager.
She was pregnant.
Everything in my narrow, black and white mindset judged this girl for being pregnant when she should NOT HAVE BEEN PREGNANT. 

It wasn't until this week that this event crossed my mind again and I realized the amazing example my mother gave me when I was 13 years old.

You see, my mother is pro-life. She told that girl "Congratulations" because she was pregnant...and she was choosing life.
LIFE is something to affirm and uphold. LIFE is given by God, no matter the circumstances.

Even though I didn't understand the example she was showing me at the time, I am so grateful for and inspired by my mom's reaction to this unexpected pregnancy announcement.

Mostly because I have been disheartened and down-right confused by the negative comments and tone I have received on my 3rd and 4th pregnancies (I am pregnant with my 4th baby right now):

"Are you pregnant AGAIN!? How many is that now?
"Another baby? Oh no!!"
"You're having another boy? I am so sorry!"
"Do you know how that happens? Oh, honey. I need to take you out to coffee and we need to have a little chat..."

Whenever I get these comments, I smile and say proudly,
"Yes, I am! 4!"
"No, we're happy...really!"
"I'm excited to have another boy...yes, really!"
(And yes, we know. We like it a lot).

The odd thing is I feel like I am trying to convince these people to be happy that I am having another baby. (?!?!?!?)

I was struck by the similarities in judgment voiced by the author of this article, published earlier this week.  In "Your Mother is Destroying the Earth," the author describes her constant need to justify her existence as the 5th daughter in her family, citing that it is the WACO (Warriors against Child Overpopulation) feminist leftists that give her the most grief, stating:

Content to bear their own children, they avidly seek to restrict childbearing for other women whom they apparently deem less worthy of free choice.

The thing is, none of the people who said these things to me would probably ever classify themselves as a feminist, leftists WACOs...because all of these comments have come from Christian women.

Our Pregnancy Announcement for Silas, our 3rd son

 One of the foundational elements of a Christian worldview declares this truth: Humans are made in the image of God.

And because of this truth, a Christian worldview declares life to be precious, worth saving, worth dying for, worth celebrating.

 While the comments directed at my 3rd and 4th children gave me a chuckle (and an inner "seriously?" moment), good anecdotes for facebook, and food for thought, these comments also made me mad. But more than feeling self-righteous anger,  I am deeply saddened that this attitude toward pregnancy and new life pervades our culture, even in the Church.

And even at times in me.

My 13-year-old judgmental attitude lasted well into my adulthood. I know that it has taken 3...no, even 4 pregnancies, including my miscarriage, to break the "pattern of this world" and begin to be "transformed" and "renewed" in my mind (Romans 12:2).

I've rolled my eyes when family and friends announced their 3th, 5th...8th pregnancies.
I've thought, "Good grief! Honeymoon baby? They didn't waste any time "getting busy" did they?
I've dismissed the grief of miscarriage as something that "would never happen to me" instead of extending real comfort to these women during a devastating time.

Until this year.

God has been transforming my mind to truly understand what it means to value life, family, pregnancy, and babies.

Every pregnancy is a miracle (Psalm 139:13-16).
Every baby is a gift from God (Psalm 127:3).
And every baby, no matter if it is the first, third, sixth, tenth, or more, should be accepted as a miracle and gift.

Without judgment, without eye-rolling, rude comments, or snide remarks. Just celebration.

Just "Congratulations."

Remembering Izzy: "Pledged to God"

 August 24 would have been my due date.

I have been holding off writing this post. It was in my heart...I wanted to write it...but I kept pushing it away, kind of like I've been pushing the reality of my miscarriage away lately.

Because sometimes, I just want to forget, because it is still painful. Even though we lost the baby so early. Even though my belly is now swelled with new life, eagerly awaiting his birth day in December. Even though...

But there is no forgetting the memory of a child-that-would-have-been. And when I connect my miscarriage to the memory of the baby I lost (why do I try to mentally separate it? Does it make it easier somehow?), I don't ever want to forget, despite the pain.

So, August 24 came...and went. By now, even if I was over a week "late," like I was with Silas, I would have given birth to the baby by now, the baby Micah named "Izzy."

In the first few weeks after my miscarriage ended, I read Heaven is for Real. A chapter that really stuck out to me was when the little boy (who, for those of you who don't know the premise of the book, went to heaven when he was in surgery and nearly died) met his little sister who was lost to miscarriage. The parents hadn't even told the little boy that they were expecting a baby. Imagine their surprise when he told his mom and dad that he "met his sister!"

In wonder they asked him, "What was her name?"
"She didn't have one," he told them. "No one has named her yet."

For some reason, after reading this section, a sudden urgency came over me. I threw aside the book and rushed to my computer, hastily googling "meaning of names + Izzy."

I am a big believer in the meanings of names. For our children, we carefully chose one or both of their names with the meaning in mind.

I didn't chose the name "Izzy" for the baby we lost; my 6 year old son did, named after one of his favorite characters from the show "Jake and the Neverland Pirates." But the name stuck.

And unlike the baby in Heaven is For Real, our baby did have a name, a name that made her (girl or boy, who knows?) even more real to us.

A host of baby naming websites popped up on my screen. I click on one and typed in "Izzy," my heart nervously pounding as the information loaded.

"Izzy, diminutive of Isabella: Pledged to God"

I stared at the screen, slowly breathing in and out, feeling the wonder of the moment.

I felt peaceful, like I had known this all along. 

I felt humble, grateful...like I had just been given a rare gift. 

I would have never chosen this name for my baby, but somehow, by God's grace (and by Micah's love for a pink-clad pirate-girl), my son did.

Pledged to God. 

I believe that my little one, the baby due just over a week ago, is in heaven with God, her Father. 

And it hurts because right now, this very minute, I want to be holding this baby in my arms, kissing soft downy hair, tracing perfect, tiny features, and breathing in that wonderful newborn scent. I want to be thanking God that my baby is here, with me, safe, healthy, and whole. 

But instead, I must thank Him for other things:

For the gift of new life in my still-growing baby, Eli, 23 weeks strong

For the gift of each of my children, present with me or with Him

For the gift of a name that I would not have chosen, but somehow comforts me on this side of heaven. 

I'm going to have FOUR sons OR How I fought against gender disappointment

I'm not gonna lie, folks. I had a major freak-out the morning of my 20 week ultrasound. You see, I have three sons. Three adorable boys. Three very energetic boys. I have THREE boys. 

I mean, seriously. How cute are these boys?

And everyone in my family was convinced that I was pregnant with a girl. My 6 year old son named the baby "Frederica." Cute, right? (terrible, terrible name. But what can you do?)

Up until that morning, I was peaceful and serene. 

Peaceful me at 20 weeks.

Whatever will be, will be. Que Sera, Sera or whatever. 

Of course, I had taken all the online quizzes: Boy or girl? FIND OUT NOW! (Results = girl, every time).

The Chinese Gender Predictor Chart? GIRL. 

And seriously, I already have three boys. The odds had to be in our favor, right? 

So, back to my freak-out. Peaceful and serene until the morning of. Cue my toddler losing my wedding ring and then 2 hours of frantic cleaning. We didn't find it. And cleaning is the never-fail-to-put-mommy-in-a-bad-mood solution.  I yelled at all the boys, fed them lunch, and SENT THEM TO BED. 

Then I sat down on the couch to think (never a good idea, right?)

I just know the baby is a boy. Another boy. What am I going to do with FOUR wild boys? 

What if Micah and Benji are beyond upset that the baby isn't a girl?     

My family has 7 grandsons and one granddaughter. They want a girl so badly! How can I carry their disappointment...not to mention my own? 

Because the truth is, I really did want a girl. But I did NOT want to experience the intense "gender disappointment" I did when I found out Silas was a boy. It was not pretty, friends. There was crying, and lots of feeling sorry for myself. SORRY for myself that I was having a healthy baby BOY. I cringe at my immaturity. However, my feelings of dissappointment were real. 

And I didn't WANT to feel disappointed this time.

The clock was ticking down. It was an hour till we had to leave for the ultrasound. I got in the shower and started to pray. I don't even know what I prayed. Only God knew. 

Then a question entered my mind: Why do you want a 4th child? 

Because this baby was planned, longed for...especially after our miscarriage. 

And the answer came to my heart: I want to give Silas a sibling that is close to his age. 

Silas is five years younger than his twin brothers. I didn't want him to feel lonely growing up. So, we planned for a fouth, wanted a fourth.

And as the water streamed down over my face, I realized that I wanted a brother for Silas.  

A daughter? I wanted a daughter for me.  

But if the baby was a boy...what utter joy that would be for my little Silas. 

A little brother. 

A wrestling buddy.

A tag-a-long. 

A bunk-bed partner.

A best friend. 

And then I was ok. I knew this wisdom was from God, who gave this baby to our family, who chose this baby to be Silas' younger sibling. 

And I just knew. I knew even before I saw that little wiggle-waggle on the screen. 

Baby Boy Meng

IT'S A BOY!!!

So, here's how the boys reacted. 

Ultrasound tech: "It's a boy!"

Micah: "Oh, nuts!!!!"

Tech: (aside to me, laughing) "Literally!"

Benji: "But....I thought it was a GIRL!!!"

Both boys admitted later that they were a little sad that we were not going to have a baby sister. I told them I was a little sad too. But is ok to be sad. We can be excited too. 

So I am going to have FOUR SONS. And honestly, at times this truth strikes fear and trepidation into my poor little female heart.  And then I just laugh and laugh. Four sons.    

Elijah (Eli) Jefferson Meng

Our little Elijah Jefferson is going to join our family in December. I can't wait to meet my son. I can't wait for his brothers to meet him.

Pregnancy after Loss: Survivor's Guilt

The past six months have been a time of immense growth for me, and very painful growth at times.

I shared very publicly and honestly about my miscarriage and the grieving process that I went through. While some women prefer to grieve privately, I found that writing and sharing my story on my blog and in the support group that I now co-lead has been very healing for me.

I found community in my grief.

I was part of "The Club." Ironically, it is a club that no woman wants to join but the support I have found in women who have also experienced loss has been a source of great strength, encouragement, and hope.

Then I got pregnant again.

In realty, my pregnancy happened very quickly after my miscarriage. At the time, it didn't seem quick. My womb felt achingly empty as the weeks ticked by that I was NOT "12 weeks along;" rather, I was 3…4…5…6…7…weeks post-miscarriage.

My miscarriage was complete at the beginning of February and I found out I was pregnant again on April 14th.

It was a quiet joy, and a confusing time for me.

After telling my family, I nervously shared about my pregnancy with my grief group co-leader and told her that I primarily felt guilty for being pregnant again so soon.

She said, "I think you have Survivor's Guilt."

That odd, complicated guilt of those that have experienced pain but have also experienced a new gift of life, and feel undeserving.

My first thought was: I AM PREGNANT! We were going to have another baby.

Our precious new Little Meng

My second thought was: What about my grief support group? Will I still be accepted…wanted…needed…now that I am…pregnant?

I had my inner fears, but in my heart I knew that I was still a part of this important community.

But this was not just a question that I asked in my mind. For many people, the first question they asked me as soon as I told them I was pregnant was, "So, what about the grief group? Are you still going to do it?"

I must be honest and say that these questions really hurt my feelings. One part of of me understood because I had the same questions, in a way. But the other part of me pushed against this idea that now I was unqualified to lead a grieving mothers group because I now had the joy of being pregnant again.

I have learned that the joy of knowing a new baby grows inside my womb is co-mingled with grieving for the child I lost.

The day I announced my pregnancy was actually a very sad day for me. There were many tears. Somehow, I felt as if Izzy, the baby we lost, could never be, even in my mind, as now my womb was occupied again in the nine months that should have been hers.

Complicated, intense, illogical, yes. But those were my real feelings, even as I thanked family and friends for their congratulations and well-wishes.

It is not easy to be pregnant after loss. A new pregnancy does not replace the baby we lost.

I am doing better, well even. I am thankful every strong pregnancy symptom (even as I run to the bathroom…oh joy!), am beyond impatient to find out if we will be having a little boy or girl, and am eagerly anticipating those flutters and kicks.

But, in quiet ways, I still grieve. I still need support.

And I hope, that even though I am pregnant again, I can still offer support, love, and wisdom to other women who are walking this road.

When I shared about my pregnancy at our meeting last month, the women in my group had nothing but words of encouragement and joy for me. I hope that if and when their time comes to welcome a new life into their wombs that I can also walk this new path with them as they experience this journey of mingled joy and grief.

"Sweet Iz": Our miscarriage

Your older brother, Micah, named you when you were just a glow in my belly.

"Hi Iz!" he said softly, his hand on my hips, his mouth pressed to my stomach. He planted a kiss near my belly button and then scampered away.

"I'm going to name the baby Iz." He announced, 5 minutes after we told our boys they were going to be big brothers again on December 20th. "I want a baby sister. If it's a boy, I'm going to fuss."

I laughed, reminding him that the baby might not be a girl, and inwardly thinking that I didn't really like the name "Izzy."

But that was the only name you got. It was a sweet name, and full of love and expectation from the big brother you will never know on this side of heaven.

Sweet baby. You left us only a few weeks after we knew you were there. On January 4th, we found out that your soul had slipped away.

We miss you, your mommy especially. Christmas was such a time of hope. I felt like Mary, expecting a child, however small, at such a magical time of year.

Your daddy and I kept looking at each other with wide eyes, saying in hollowed, hallowed tones, "We're going to have FOUR kids. Holy crap."

And we still have four. But not here on earth.

We wonder why this happened, why you won't be joining our family here on earth. I told your big brother Benji that Mommy was very sad that the baby died.

"But Mommy, we still have Silas!" he said.

And that made me smile.

I have three little boys to hold in my arms and one little one to hold in my heart.

We didn't get to know you but your big brother named you.

We miss you, sweet Iz.

You can read more about my journey here: 

Sweet Iz: Our Miscarriage Announcement
Miscarriage and Faith: Suffering and God's Goodness
Miscarriage and Faith: Giving Thanks IN…not FOR
Miscarriage and Faith: Walking through the Valley
Miscarriage and Faith: Searching for Beauty

Happy First Birthday, Silas!

Silas, you are ONE today!!! Where has the year gone? This has literally been the fastest year of my life!

Brand new baby boy

And the happiest as well.

And you, my little babe, have been a big part of that happiness.

You bring such joy to our family, Silas. We all adore you. You are a happy, curious, sweet, and funny little boy.

You have learned to do so many things in the past year! Here is what I wrote about you at
Three Months
Six Months
Nine Months

You cruise like a champ on the couch. And you are almost walking. You can stand up without any support and have even taken up to 3 steps before sitting down. It won't be long now! You are still a lot faster when you crawl and you do crawl ALL OVER THE HOUSE!

You are so curious! You are into EVERYTHING! You love to pull all the cooking utensils out of the drawers. And plastic lids. And cookie cutters. And all the pantry items. Today I picked the peanut butter jar, honey bear, gingerbread cookie cutters, large plastic spoon, and two pot lids off the floor. Before breakfast. You also love to "help" mommy empty and load the dishwasher.

Whew! You keep us busy little man!

Your love for music is growing each day. You love to sing and dance. Whenever you hear music you sway your body or head back and forth. You step side to side. Sometimes you do an awesome booty-poppin' dance! We love it! You even dance to rhythmic noises, like the blender, the kruig coffee maker, or the vacuum cleaner.

Today when your brothers sang "Happy Birthday" to you, you danced, laughed, and clapped your hands.

You got a little too excited
when you were watching
M & B in the shower

Your relationship with Micah and Benji has grown so much in the past year. They are truly your Big brothers and you are their littler brother. They look out for you and take care of you. They are so gentle with you and (almost!) always share their toys willingly. You love to watch them take a bath or shower. You think this is hilarious.

You are not so much a fan of the bath yourself. Mommy is not sure what happened since you used to love baths. You hate getting your hair washed.

Speaking of hair, you really, really need a hair cut. We call you "Mullet man." Your long hair is a big surprise to us since your brothers were bald when they turned one.

You can also say several words and have your own special words for things too:
Mama (or MA MA MA MA MA!)
Ah-da! (Daddy)
All done (this is your favorite phrase and sign. You say/sign it all the time: when you are done eating, when you are done nursing, when you want to get up from your nap, when you want to be picked up. It's your multi-purpose phrase)
Ni-Ni (you say this when you are tired)
Mmm! Mmm! (More. You also sign "more" sometimes)

I think you have said "Micah" but I am not sure. Your reaction when you see your brothers is usually a high pitched squeal.


Another thing that makes you squeal is being surprised or scared. You like it when mommy or your brothers jump out and scare you or play peek-a-boo. You think this is so funny and you love being surprised!

Your teeth have finally started coming in! You currently have two teeth that are through (one on the top and one on the bottom!) and two that are coming in (ditto). Teething has not been fun. You frequently run low fevers and wake up a LOT at night.

I am making a weird face but SEE my tooth? (and long hair?)

Well, you wake up a lot at night anyways. You are not the best sleeper. You still wake up frequently. You just want Mommy-snuggles. That's ok. I know that soon, this too shall pass.

You continue to take a great nap in the mornings from about 9-noon (sometimes 11:30). An afternoon nap is hit or miss lately (Mommy is sad about this). You are a happy boy when you are awake though! When you are tired, you want your blankie. You adore your blanket. It is your favorite thing (we should probably nickname you "Linus").


I cannot believe how fast you have grown up, Silas. This time last year, you came into the world and we saw you for the first time. Now, we can't imagine life without you.

You make us laugh every day! This is your
"stink face"! 

You are tangible joy.

You have helped me become a better mother, a mommy who is more gentle, patient, playful, and nurturing to your brothers. Sometimes I would forget that Micah and Benji are my "babies" too. But you helped remind me.

How is this tiny baby ONE today? 

We love you more than you could ever know, Sweet Silas. We thank God that you are part of our family!

Happy Birthday, Silas Edward!