The Laundry List

Recently I caught up with a friend I haven't spoken to in a while. It's been a busy year or two for each of us, and I felt a catch in my throat at her simple, "What's been going on?" question.

What hasn't gone on? Ardent list-maker that I am, the inventory is easy enough to trot out:

1. Had Mary Brooks.
2. Almost lost Mary Brooks.
3. Almost lost my mind.
4. Finally came back to life nine months later.
5. Ran the Walt Disney World half marathon for charity and, decidedly un-pregnant, rode every rollercoaster on the property. Thanked God hourly for the chance to start fresh. 
6. Found out I was expecting. (Surprise! And sorry for those loop-de-loops, baby.)
7. Lost our baby at 15 weeks. Had surgery. Stayed in bed for approximately a century.
7. Got, as we gallows humor-types like to say, re-pregnant.
8. Thought I was losing that baby.
9. Hospitalized more than once. On sporadic bed rest. Alternately terrified and in denial.
10. Unexpectedly delivered our son six weeks early.
11. Endured a one-week NICU stay.
12. Survived a sinus infection/ear infection/mastitis combo.
13. Thought that was the worst we'd handle this year.
14. Back at the Children's Hospital with a preemie and his fractured skull.*
15. Earned ourselves a three-day vacation right where we fought for MB two years before.
16. Nearly re-lost my mind.
17. Ran out of the hospital and swore we'd burn it down before we set foot there again.
18. Came back with a baby who wasn't gaining weight. 
19. Fielded daily questions as to why our newborn was "insanely small." (Y'all, please don't do that to a girl. No one's baby is insanely anything, besides cute.)
20. Brought in a team of experts: a pediatrician, lactation consultants, occupational therapists, a hospital-grade scale and one manic mama.
21. Took a deep breath. Began to enjoy what is, in truth, a beautiful, blessed life. And a sweet peanut who may just be getting the hang of this weight gain thing.

Amidst all that, we felt called to have Bradley leave his job* of nine years; it was slowly sucking the life out of our family and our marriage - the last thing we needed after MB's ordeal. Bradley's quitting was a tremendously brave act of obedience, one that both humbled and scared the pants off a planner like me. At every point, despite the stresses we encountered, our family saw absolute confirmation it was the right decision.

One side business and eighteen months(!) of a job search later, Bradley began a new full-time position just before Chapman was hospitalized. The pressure, waiting, healing, constant change - it was heavy and unrelenting. We were refined by fire once again, and no matter how I tried to look at it through a lens of faith and God's will, there were many nights I just wanted to opt out, to be passed over, to fast forward to the easy part.

When you write it all out, that laundry list looks like a lot. (Maybe I've outlined a fabulous memoir in these bulletpoints?) I wonder, as people have often asked, how we did it. In each moment, though, you don't philosophize or quit - you can't. The only option is to push on through.

You laugh with your husband the morning of your D&C, you shuttle yourself (and your milk supply) from home to NICU and back again, you remind yourself in the Children's Hospital that "this isn't that" and your son isn't fighting for his life - even if you're fighting for your sanity. You thank God for good sleep, sweet babies and a family who drops everything for you.

You feel the promise of the Gospel and know without a doubt that the Holy Spirit's presence in you is why you're still vertical, still putting one foot in front of the other.

You wonder if you've gone through this particular whirlwind to carry other people who are fielding harder, even more painful fights. You wish you never knew about any of this and desperately want your white-picket-fence, never-had-a-panic-attack, "perfect" life back.

You want your "what's new?" laundry list to be first movies, snow days, pigtails, park trips, holding hands, post-bath snuggles and birthdays. Your story is partly that, but the heart of the matter is a whole lot more.

And when someone asks what you've been up to these last two years, you don't know how to tell her you're not the girl you were before.

"Two babies, six dozen new gray hairs and an extra-large SUV. That's what we've been up to."

(What else can you say?)

When you hang up, you ask God to use this laundry list of chaos, this hard-fought battle, this big, ugly scar on an otherwise-smooth history for His purpose. And you know, more deeply than you've ever known anything, that He's in this with you.

What comes after this laundry list, Lord? (And, not to prove I haven't really learned my lesson, but can this season be finished? Please? I'd hate to see Bradley arrested for arson, and I'm pretty sure he's serious about burning that building down.)

*These are stories for another day. Promise.

Party of Five

First things first: meet our baby boy! 

Our son, Chapman Collins Smith, was born nearly six weeks early on January 6, 2014. He was a healthy 5 lbs, 7 oz and transitioned home beautifully after a one-week stay in NICU.

 
Mac and Mary Brooks are utterly smitten, as are we all. His early arrival may have been unexpected, but we were grateful all the same; the months leading up to Chapman's birth were stressful and occasionally scary. Having him home and healthy now is such a gift!

It's been a minute since I've popped in, and in all my busyness, I find the everyday details slipping away from me. The quirks and anecdotes and memories I just "know" I'll treasure when I'm 80 are trickling out of my brain and off to...wherever the rest of my brain cells have gone. 

So I'm back to update and record, and hopefully to encourage. It's been a tumultuous ride, these last two years, and you've all been on it with me; I want to fill you in on how we got through (and are still walking through) the unexpected. There's so very much to tell!

I promise to share details in the coming days, but most especially I promise to record the tiny, easily forgotten moments this blog has helped me preserve over the years.

There are a million blessings and a few miracles mixed in there, too. I hope you'll forgive me if I shout them from the virtual rooftops here in our little corner of the internet.

I look forward to catching up! xox

Here We Are

(source)

I'm a talker; I narrate my way through life. I'm never at a loss for words, but I'm still terrified to type this. It doesn't make any sense, but my heart is pounding all the same.

I've been silent for three-plus months, and it's time now to say what I've been too hesitant to vocalize. It's especially time to absorb and be fully grateful for what's going on in our lives.

We're having a baby.

Baby Thumbsucker at 12 weeks

I'm fighting the urge to follow that sentence up with: "It looks like we could have a baby in February." or "All signs point to a new member of our family in 2014." or "We might hold a second baby valentine in our arms six months from now."or "Mary Brooks could have a new sibling at her second birthday party." It feels more like a possibility than a fact.

I'm not at a point where I can accept congratulations graciously or process the magnitude of the gift we've been given. I know it's tremendous, and I'm beyond joyful in theory, even if it hasn't gotten down into my bones just yet.

But I am pregnant - 14 weeks along, to be exact. Our baby looks strong and healthy, and is by far the most active little Smith I've seen yet.

I'd be overcome with sheer gratitude and exhilaration if there wasn't a literal and figurative gray cloud hanging over me (and my insides).

I have had an implantation bleed for the last three weeks. A middle of the night scare that looked something like a Law & Order crime scene led me to a disastrous early morning ER visit; I felt certain this must be what a loss looked like. (With our third baby, I never had any signs of what was to come, so these symptoms were all new to me. And I still can't quite bring myself to say the "m" word.)

Praise God, baby looked beautiful and removed from the bleeding I was experiencing, and what I continue to have. Everything baby-wise looks perfectly positive.

At the start of my second trimester, we're in a safer spot developmentally for baby, but my body still needs to get it together. This large bleed could pose a threat as things progress; it really needs to go away. As it stands, my symptoms could continue for weeks, and I'm okay with it being a nuisance or an unsettling factor to me - that's no problem.

The crucial aspect is that it decreases in size quickly, that it doesn't "take over" the space and resources baby needs. I can't think about or discuss what happens if that's not the case.

I believe in my heart that this is our "take home" baby, that it will be in our arms and in our home come 2014. It's difficult, though, to remind myself of that sometimes given what we've been through - and given the crazy things I hear on occasion from otherwise well-meaning folks. (That's a whole separate post altogether. Grieving mamas and pregnant ladies should be given earmuffs, y'all.)

While I am excited, I am also fighting a kernel of anxiety that threatens to suck the joy right out of this experience. I'd love your prayers for my peace of mind, for my body's cooperation, for the doctors' wisdom and for this "gray area" to just disappear.

Once this lifts, we'll be in the clear as far as anyone can tell. In the meantime, we have more pictures of our unborn bean than my parents likely have of themselves throughout their entire childhoods. That's the silver lining, I suppose, watching every last miraculous development week by week.

We're glad for the reassurance that baby is thriving, but oh how I'd love this scary part to be over.

So there it is, all the stuff I haven't been saying. It felt very personal, like both a vulnerability and a TMI situation I did not care to share with the world.

But I needed to. I'm making my pride a concern here, wanting to maintain some level of Mary Poppins perfection and cheer when the truth is, life brings with it some less than perfect moments. Even in those, we rejoice - but we do need each other.

Each of you played a role in my healing earlier this year (and last year with Mary Brooks), so I hesitate to ask for one more thing from you. But if it crosses your mind, your prayers for our little peanut would mean everything.

xox,
The Mouth of the South, once again unmuzzled

A Big Surprise, A Bigger Loss

After last year, my prayer for 2013 was that it would be boring. Uneventful. Nothing to report.

That wasn't to be the case at all - in wonderful (and not so wonderful) ways.

As I rounded the corner in my post-race recovery and fended off the flu, Bradley and I got a pretty big surprise: two pink lines. A very unexpected, wholly undeserved blessing.

Mary Brooks was only 11 months old at the time; after running the numbers we realized our third (third!) baby would be born just eight months later. Whew.

The day before MB turned one, we heard a gorgeous, perfect, super fast heartbeat and confirmed we'd be meeting the third baby Smith in late September.

By then Mac would have been a week or two shy of four years old; for a brief moment we'd have three under four this coming fall. We were overwhelmed, overcome with gratitude and excited beyond words.

It felt like getting away with a bank heist, like winning the lottery. We got something wonderful for nothing! My heart had healed just in time, and we were wide open to the joy a new life would bring.

We celebrated Mary Brooksie's first birthday knowing she'd be a big sister this time next year. We giggled and dreamed and joked.

I went back a month ago, at just over 11 weeks, to hear that tiny heartbeat again and be reassured it was safe to tell the world. A veil of cautious optimism lifted, and it felt safe to set things in stone.

There were plans for an SUV, as our Altima couldn't squeeze in another car seat if it tried. There was talk of sharing rooms.

A date the week of Mother's Day was circled, and we hoped to confirm baby's gender by then. What an unforeseen gift.

This morning I got a peek at my tiniest baby, just about of four months along, and saw that she no longer had a heartbeat. Our little bean, our third child, was gone.

There will be no baby in September.

There will be no SUV for now, no moving Mary Brooks into her big brother's room as he has fervently requested for months.

Tomorrow morning I will go into the hospital for a procedure to do what my body has not yet done itself.

I'm sad. I feel guilty for being embarrassed at first about our tremendous blessing, at how close our babies would be in age. For putting off telling clients and the "world." For worrying about insurance and paperwork and the lack of sleep to come.

I'd do anything to give this baby a heartbeat back, to fill that empty third car seat in my mind.

The moment we found out two and a half months ago, we added a fifth member to our family. We planned names, we envisioned three Smiths growing up, we laughed at how we never saw this coming - the unanticipated joy of a new baby so soon.

I never saw this coming either, but I'm thankful all the same. Thankful for the time we had dreaming about this baby and the blessing she was to us. For a life that now turns our hearts heavenward; we know that's where this child is.

I know there's a plan here, that a God who works miracles (and we are living proof) didn't create this child - the one we didn't even think to pray for - for no reason.

We are sad and shocked, but we are held.

This morning, amidst the flood of emotions, I was terrified - my heart had just mended. I didn't want to spend another year as a zombie, muddling through a field of heartache to get to the other side.

The post I had written for today was about Joel 2:25, how the Lord had restored my wasted year. How He had healed me, brought beauty from ashes. I'll post it another day, and I'll add a new chapter.

I know the Lord will do that again, that He'll heal us and make something glorious out of what we're living. Out of what feels wretched and aching and awful this minute.

I'm asking for His peace in the meantime - and your prayers.

xoxo

Starting Anew: A Long Time Coming

No more apologies or false starts: we're back. I'm back.

I wanted to say so much the last two months of 2012; I didn't stay away for lack of things to discuss. (You know that's never the case.) My fear was that my words made me a broken record. Hadn't I already said those things before, in some form or another?

I spent most of 2012 grieving and, worse yet, denying I was doing so. What's there to grieve when you're home and holding your baby again? Somehow I was doing both.

I grieved in tears, in sleepless nights, in visions and nightmares, in hives and panic attacks, in headaches and laughter that turned back into bawling. I grieved in silence and in exhaustion and in the midst of powerful, endless gratitude.

I grieved in months and months deleted by the wide-eyed, glazed over, "just shuffling my feet" kind of living recovery required. I grieved in conversations I'll never remember and days that went by without my noticing.

I grieved my expectations, what I thought our life would look like. What Mary Brooks' blissful baby days would be filled with, easy and sweet as they had started. How my life would continue as I'd always known it, focused on daily concerns and only occasional, manageable roadblocks.

I grieved my innocence. The 'floating through life' feeling I had for 30 years, coasting along on a whim.

I grieved the pulling back of some unknown veil, showing me what the depths of hurt looked and felt like. And how the world was filled with more of it than I'd ever realized, busy as I was with my floating.

I was an unwilling beekeeper, scrambling to pull that life-saving veil back down and keep everything out. I wanted to take the world in through that gauzy cheesecloth again, blissful in ignorance.

I had my dukes up most of the year, bracing for another impact. I felt the constant rush of adrenaline you get after a near-miss car accident; every tiny thing made me jump, left me wanting to crawl out of my skin.

I hadn't known unbridled pain like that existed, what I felt when I came face-first into my inability to protect Mary Brooks. My inability to run the world and care for everyone I love who lives in it.

I peered into a limitless well of hurt - and panicked. Once the immediate danger was over, I couldn't pinpoint the continuing source of my grief. Then it came to me: I had made it through "this," but knew that if there was anything worse out there in the universe, deep down in that well, I couldn't survive it. I wouldn't.

I thought I really might have died from the sheer awfulness, from the consuming ache. In the hospital it welled up and burned in my chest, leaving me tearless, wordless - scarred.

In the months afterward the pain came and went - when I thought I was out of the woods (and trumpeted the news widely), it swooped in to prove me wrong.

But I couldn't let myself say the words, let myself admit that, despite the joy I wanted to exude, there was a gaping puddle of sorrow.

I know now they can coexist, grief and thankfulness. And the more you admit you're hurting, the less it aches.

I'm sorry for not telling you. For being more concerned about sounding boring or self-absorbed than I was about being authentic. For not shepherding even one person who might come across these pages in a similarly difficult moment.

I feel tremendous relief in the starting of a new year, the rolling over of a calendar and a fresh era for our family. I feel it all rising.

The upside to losing six months of memories is that we'll celebrate a second "first" Easter, Mother's Day, Fourth of July, beach trip, start of the school year.

At the end of the summer Bradley left his job, the one that kept him from us more than 100 hours in his final week, and a weight was lifted immediately. (And another one added, but I'll get to that.)

I was able to fall asleep before 4:00 am for the first time in ages, to share the daily duties of running our life, to start forming memories that lasted more than an hour or two. We began the real, slow work of recovery then.

It might sound crazy, particularly to people who aren't believers, but we felt his decision was in obedience to what our family was being called to do. Who leaves a job with nothing else lined up, not knowing what's next? After trusting the Lord with the very life of our child, you'd imagine it'd be difficult to put up a fight on something as (seemingly) small as a job. And yet we did.

It took months of prayer and discussion and weary conversations (mostly dead-eyed stares over our dining room table, sleepless as we were) to make the leap. I'm so proud of him, the hard worker and constant provider, for making this big transition. For putting aside what makes sense to the rest of the world and setting a tremendous example of obedience and faith.

So here we are, five months later, and the future is unclear in that arena. Better hours will require a career shift of sorts, and we're praying about the details (tiny things like insurance, resumes, interviews, encouragement, provision) as we go. For a planner like me, it can be unnerving - but I'm making a moment by moment commitment to surrender.

My prayer is that the Lord tells a big, wonderful story through our family, just as He did last year, despite my temper tantrums doubts and without my help.

We have seen so much confirmation of our decision, and God has richly blessed us with gifts I can't begin to name. (Being able to string words together without crying, for instance, and growing my business in ways that both excite me and help our family.)

Bradley has been busy, though not in the way he first expected, with a side project that I look forward to sharing with you, too.

For now, just know I'm back. I can't wait to discuss what matters with you - and to discuss royal babies, Downton Abbey, and every other mindless diversion I've missed.

Thank you for keeping me busy on Instagram (heaven help the folks who don't enjoy seeing pictures of my kids), Twitter and in real life. For being patient and prayerful. For emailing and calling and texting. For wading through all this.

I feel a weight off and a light at the end of this tunnel. Welcome, 2013!

 

The Lord has done great things for us, 
and we are filled with joy.
-Psalms 126:3

It's A....

We caught a peek of our baby this week! To say we are excited would be an uncharacteristic understatement.

Everything looks healthy and perfect; we couldn't be more grateful.

As far as gender goes...


...Mac will be having a little SISTER!

Yes, friends, it's a girl. (And we already think she's gorgeous!) In less than five months, we hope to see this sweet face for ourselves.

What a tremendous, precious blessing. We're over the moon!

Now could someone tell me what little girls do, exactly? It's all tractors and trucks over here...

Smith Family, Party of Four!

Thank you so much for your well wishes yesterday! We're very, very excited to welcome baby #2 in February of next year.

I am just over 14 weeks and feel like I'm turning a corner on some of the first trimester less-than-delightful stuff. I'd love to be a little less sloth-like in coming months!

This baby has, as another blogger put it, really pulled out all the stops from day one. (We've known for ten weeks.) I have felt much more pregnant this time around.

I even thought it must be twins! Surely one little bean couldn't have such a powerful effect on its mama already, right? Wrong.

With Mac, I took pregnancy test after pregnancy test; I was practically symptom-free and in total awe. "Shouldn't I be feeling something?" This time around, that memory makes me laugh.

But there has never been a better reason to feel less than fabulous. We are thankful to have heard baby's heartbeat four (!!) times now and look forward to an ultrasound at our next appointment.

In the meantime, I am soaking up every last minute with our sweet, busy, growing, teething only child. I hope his grins stick around once his baby brother or sister arrives!

A few outtakes from yesterday's 90-second photo shoot:

This one's probably my favorite. I feel the same way, Mac. Yay!!

I haven't thought too much about how I'll balance working from home with baby, Mac, Bradley and Blue in 2012. Not to mention finding time for laundry, cooking, a shower or a walk around the block.

God has blessed us richly, and I just know He'll help me figure it all out. Or at least send friends to encourage me to bathe occasionally.

Thank you again, sweet friends! Feel free to share your words of wisdom for life with two. I'm taking notes!

A Little (Big) News

Crazy Week, Big Changes!

Sorry to have been silent for a bit, y'all! The past week has seen us fighting off RSV and bronchiolitis (in Mac), pink eye (in me - fun times), a sinus infection (in Bradley) and doing most of that as a single parent while B was in California for a conference. Thank goodness for Mac's grandmothers!

In all of the germ-fighting we've been doing the last week, I haven't gotten a chance to tell you about the big change around the Smith household. I'm going solo!!

No, not as a parent - as a PR practitioner. As of last week, I've left the world of full-time work and am going freelance. We are so excited and I have lots to share on that front soon!

I spent a very worthwhile two and a half years at my agency and I adore the fabulous friends I met there. Even so, it became clear recently that it was time for us to start a new chapter.

Having Mac and a full-time job turned out to be quite different than I'd imagined. (Maybe I didn't imagine it enough before he arrived...)

Between pumping, packing and unpacking diaper bags, washing nine bottles each night, daily baby laundry, trying to throw together food for us grown-ups, getting Mac into a nighttime routine and attempting to stay afloat with my to do lists, I was work-focused (preparing for work, commuting or doing work) no less than 13 hours a day.

Not to mention the cold, stomach bug, RSV and bronchiolitis Mac managed to pick up in his two months at his daycare. (We're going to miss everyone there, but not the germs!)

My working mom routine left little wiggle room - I pretty much put aside household chores, running errands, grocery shopping, keeping in touch with our friends and families, taking care of Blue or spending time with my sweet husband.

That's not to say it's impossible to juggle everything, as I know many moms do it with far more children than our one tiny Mac. For us, though, this is the right choice.

I'm so excited to have a more flexible schedule and grateful for the opportunity to try out something between stay-at-home-momhood and working 40 hours a week. Those of you who know me well realize that change is not my strong suit, so stepping into something entirely new is a big deal for me. It's nothing I took lightly or rushed into, but after plenty of time talking, praying and thinking about it, it was time to leap.

I imagined my first week "out" would be a touch less hectic than it's been, though. Besides the doctors' appointments, baby care and usual house stuff that fill up my daily routine, my to do list looks like this for the week:

No matter what season of life we're in, I know few people with a lot of downtime. There will always be something in our world that keeps us on our toes. I'm just excited to be the one handling things again!

Here's hoping there are a few more check marks on this list later today....

Details to come! xoxo

It's a.....

Well, it's about time I shared the news I hyped up last week, don't you think?

Bradley and I went to the doctor on Thursday and were absolutely overcome by the images we got to see from our anatomy scan. Baby's heart (all four chambers!), brain, spine, stomach, kidneys, arms, legs and tiny feet. We got the see a sweet little face and an absolutely precious profile.

We also got to see that we're having a baby BOY!!!! I made her double-check, just to be safe, but the pictures let me know, without question, that I will soon be outnumbered.

I knew I'd be happy to see the ultrasound pictures and I even anticipated a sense of relief from the boy/girl question that everyone asks about. What I didn't anticipate, however, was last Thursday being one of the very happiest days of my life. I could have stayed in that ultrasound room right up 'til October.

Bradley and I were just talking and realized that we'd rather relive those 20 minutes in the ultrasound room than our entire wedding day, wonderful as it was. We're totally entranced by this little miracle - and calling our baby a "he" rather than an "it" has made it all the more exciting.

I have seen our baby's ultrasound video twice since we've come back - once on our laptop, pausing in awe at some of the movements I missed, and once on our big-screen TV. (Our baby won't be that big at any point in his life - talk about a crazy view!)

Thursday's appointment was first thing in the morning - and I don't think I had a coherent, non-baby-related thought until mid-day Friday. I thought knowing our baby's gender would answer one really big question, but instead I feel like it's the start of something much, much bigger. Now I have all the time in the world to wonder what he'll look like, who he'll favor, what he'll do for fun (assuming shopping doesn't top his priority list), if he'll think I'm the lamest, least rough-and-tumble person he's ever met... You get the idea.

You could have knocked me over with a feather, as my sweet friend Kristen says, when they told us it was a boy - but I could not be happier. Now if y'all could just start sharing exactly what little boys do and how I can ensure that I'm not the girl sitting inside in the air conditioned comfort while my three boys (Bradley, baby and Blue) run wild outside.... Any tips are welcome!

The Little Prince has always been a favorite book of mine....and now we're having one! I'm guessing he won't be born bilingual, but we can always get him the English translation... So excited to meet him already!!

Breaking News....More Peeps!

You may have finished all the Peeps in your Easter basket last week, but there's still one more on the way - in our house at least!

The patient and persistent among you who still check Anne Says So occasionally may have wondered what on Earth has been happening lately...besides a whole lot o' not posting!

For a girl who's always chattering and whose life is a very open (and usually boring) book, it's been a difficult ten weeks keeping a very big secret.... Bradley and I are expecting!

I'm 14 weeks along and our baby-to-be should arrive in mid-October. (Though I'm planning on Halloween just in case... Y'all know how I am once something's in ink on a calendar!) We couldn't be happier!

I've felt wonderful so far, just a little tired and always up for a nap. The last few days I've had a bit more energy and I look forward to feeling like my old self as the second trimester progresses. I've always been a big napper, so I don't want our little Grapenut to take too much of the blame for my extra hours of shut-eye.

I thought it might be time to lift my self-imposed embargo and share the news with everyone! Talking about it makes it feel so much more exciting and, well, real. We've heard the sweet little heartbeat several times and are counting down to our big ultrasound next month.

What does this mean for you, lovely reader? Now we'll be back to (hopefully) more regular posting!! It's very hard to chat about something when your mind is totally elsewhere and you're fighting desperately not to spill the beans.

I anticipate lots more regular fill-ins about the heavy, meaningful issues I normally tackle here. Shopping, weather, pop culture and other breaking news. And I promise to be a more faithful blog reader and commenter again as well. Napping has cut into my blog-reading time in a big way!

Hard to believe that next Easter our family will have one extra little Peep around....


(Don't worry, this isn't my subtle way of saying we're having triplets - it really is just one little Peep. But lately I've been hungry and sleepy enough for this many little chicklets, so it seemed appropriate.)

Hope you all had wonderful Easters! Thanks to those of you who've been praying for and celebrating alongside us as the news has trickled out! xoxo