Welcome Eden!

With a due date of June 1^st/2^nd, and two little boys who arrived 10 and 16 days early, most people (who don’t know Alisha) assumed she would just be sitting still and not doing much in those last few weeks. Well they would be wrong. If this was our first child, that might have been the case, but with it being the third, we still had activities planned, like our first camping trip of the year, Collin’s 7^th birthday party and a trip to LA for a cousins wedding. If you think about it, wouldn’t it be awesome to have a birth story that involved having to break down a campsite in freezing temperatures because you were born 17 days early, or that after celebrating at your aunt and uncles wedding in Los Angeles, the plane going back to Minneapolis had to make an emergency landing because you decided to arrive 10 days early. That was a trick question.  The answer is NO! Thank goodness we got back from LA and didn’t make the nightly news.

All the while we were in LA, family and friends inquired about the baby and Alisha’s response was always that she was ready but one more week would be ideal, allowing her to finish wrapping things up at work.  Well as the week wore on, it was looking more and more like our little girl was going to listen to her Momma. Friday rolled around and Alisha had a doctor’s appointment at 1pm.  At 1:23 I get a text message that the baby will probably be arriving in 12-24 hours. When I arrive home Alisha is on a couple of conference calls.  When she is done I ask about the appointment. She mentions that the doctor said she could go to the hospital now because of how far along she was, but she didn’t want to since the contractions weren’t very regular or organized.

We started keeping track of the timing of them around 4pm and they still weren’t very organized or consistent.  We would get to a point where they would occur every 15 minutes and then it would drop to 9 or go up to 20 minutes. We knew that we would be going to the hospital but we weren’t sure if we could make it through the night, so we talked to Collin and Owen to let them know that if we needed to leave tonight or in the middle of the night, Stephanie would come over.  For those of you who don’t know, Stephanie babysits the boys from time to time and they absolutely love her.  Well, when the boys heard this they became very excited and about every 10 minutes would ask how soon Stephanie was coming over.  With the clarification that Stephanie was only coming over if we needed to leave and go to the hospital, they encouraged us to leave. Bedtime rolled around for the boys and we still hadn’t headed to the hospital.    

The car was packed with all the items we needed. As the evening wore on I downloaded an application to keep track of the contractions. They were getting to a point where I figured we would be going sometime in the middle of the night.  She was already taking after her two brothers.  I decided to go to bed and after about 30 minutes of sleep Alisha woke me at 11:30pm to let me know that we needed to go to the hospital. Stephanie arrived a bit latter and was greeted by Samson barking his head off, as he does with anyone who comes to the front door, including me when I get home.  We then headed to Fairview Riverside. Although this was the same hospital where both of our boys had been born, additions and remodels had changed it since that time.  We entered through the children’s emergency entrance and made our way to security where I received a printed visitors badge and then we were allowed to go up to the birthing center. By this time the contractions were every couple of minutes and strong. 

When we got up to the birthing center and were being shown to our room, Alisha made sure that the nurse knew that she would like an epidural and could she please get the request in as soon as possible.  With Owen’s birth, things were a little delayed, to put it nicely.  The nurse assured us that she would and the call was already in to the midwife.  It is just shy of 1am and I sit there twiddling my thumbs, feeling utterly useless, as there is nothing I can do as Alisha is bearing the pain of contractions. Since we had parked in the spots reserved for emergency patients, I went to move the car to the parking ramp. I get back up to the room and realize that it would have been a good time to bring up the bags we had brought with.  So I make another trip down through the emptiness of the hospital to get our bags. 

When I get back up Alisha is in the shower, as this is helping with the pain. She asks me to get the iPad and turn on some upbeat music.  Standing in the bathroom with Justin Timberlake playing on Pandora, the midwife arrives.  Margaret was on call that evening and had to come all the way from Woodbury. Alisha gets out of the shower to be checked out and then back in to help with the pain.  Margaret explains that she wants to make sure Alisha is progressing along before the epidural is given because she has seen it where the epidural has stopped the progression of labor.  Things look good so the nurse puts in the IV and it only takes one try. Bags of fluid are hooked up and Alisha is closer to pain relief.
A short while later the anesthesiologist arrives and it is time for the epidural.  He preps his kit, gets the bed into position and starts the procedure.  I stand to side and in front of Alisha as he is working and all I can do is pray that he gets it in correctly and everything works smoothly. An injection of medicine and a pump to keep it flowing and Alisha should have some relief from the pain.  Which she does, but it is only the right side. It works so well on that side, that she doesn’t have much use of that leg. The nurses assure her that there are some things they can do help the medicine get to the other side and if that doesn’t work they will get the anesthesiologist back.   They place her on her side hoping gravity will help.  Alisha tells me I can go to sleep since there is nothing I can do.  I flip the chair into the fully flat position and catch some sleep.

When I awake it is early in the morning and time to have a baby. The anesthesiologist came back after I was sawing logs and was able to ease the pain on the left side. I get the video camera out and start filming when Alisha starts pushing around 6:30am. With Owen, it seemed like once she started pushing it took no time at all for him to come out. I think that maybe our little girl will come out even quicker. That wasn’t the case.  At first it seems like she is moving down fine but then it stops. Alisha pushes but the baby isn’t moving much.  I watch the battery life on the video camera and think that I may have to stop filming to ensure I have enough battery for when she is born.

Alisha is asked to switch from one position to the next and flipped every which way with only one leg that worked under her control. Never complaining, just focusing on doing whatever she could to help see her baby girl enter the world. Margaret asks how long has it been since Alisha started pushing. I can see on the camera that it will soon be an hour and the nurse informs her of the same thing. She lets us know that after an hour she will have the doctor come down to see if we need suction to assist getting our daughter out.  It seems our little girl has her head tilted to the side rather than straight down. The doctor arrives and has Alisha push a couple times and her head moves.  No suction is needed, as the baby ninja is no longer stuck.

The doctor leaves and we are close to seeing our daughter.  Every push now reveals more progress.  My heart swells and tears enter my eyes as I see her head come out. With the last push she rotates herself and lifts her arms up, reaching towards her Momma. A healthy cry comes from her lungs and Alisha takes her and holds her tight. Tears of joy are running down both of our cheeks. At 7:44am, after nearly 80 minutes of pushing, Eden Collette has finally arrived. I cut the cord and then get to hold her skin to skin on my chest. We enjoyed the time alone with Eden and sent out messages to family and friends about her arrival. About and hour and a half after she is born I take her over to the nurse so she can get her weighed and measured. She is 7 pounds 5 ounces and 20.5 inches long. She is bigger than both of her brothers were, but she also stayed in longer. We have a little bit more time before we get moved, so we have some breakfast, get cleaned up and gather our things up to be shuttled up to the post partum floor.

The suites were amazing with floor to ceiling windows, ambient lighting, glass tile on the walls, solid surface counters, fridge, microwave and a couch that turns into a comfortable bed. We got set up in the room and enjoyed some quiet time with our daughter and a couple naps.  After experiencing the hospital food at breakfast we decided to choose something else for lunch.  With Davanni’s visible from our wall of widows and my love for pizza it was a simple choice. The afternoon quickly slipped by and it was time to go get her brothers.  I made it home at 4pm and then Collin, Owen and I grabbed some Subway to take back to the hospital with us. The boys were eager to see Momma and their new sister and find out her name.  With the revelation that it was Eden Collette, Owen announced that he knew that since it was on the wall in her room.  They both were sweet and wanted to touch her. After we ate dinner we watched the new version of Cinderella and then it was time for the boys and I to head home.  We said goodbye and made our way to the car.  The boys were both sad that Mom wasn’t coming home.  Since she was born in the morning I let them know that the following morning we would be able to go and pick up Mom and Eden and bring them home. 

The next morning after a quick breakfast and clean up, we head back to the hospital. We got the room in the middle of Eden having blood taken from her foot for her bilirubin level to be checked. She wasn’t enjoying it so the boys and I did some laps until it was done.  Then it was just a waiting game until we crossed off all the things on the list to get discharged. We took some pictures of all of us together and the boys got to watch two more movies. When we close to getting the all clear to leave it was almost 1pm.  The nurse gave the final discharge instructions to Alisha and the boys and I did 7 laps around the wing to help expend some of the energy that had built up from sitting still for 4 hours. We loaded up a cart with all of our bags and then put Eden into her bucket car seat. It had seemed so tiny when it was sitting in the house. It was hard to imagine that both the boys had fit into a similar one when they were born. When we put her into the seat though, it seemed as if somehow the seat had grown or she had shrunk, for now she look so tiny strapped into it. 

With the bucket seat in the stroller, Alisha getting a wheelchair escort, and the boys pushing a loaded cart, we made our way to our car and got everything loaded in.  After a little more than 36 hours in the hospital we were on our way home, excited for the changes that a daughter would add to our household.  

 

                   

Eden's Nursery

We didn’t post many full shots of Eden’s nursery prior to her arrival because we know we have curious relatives who look for clues to her name in every corner of every photo. But, now that she’s here we can share all of the nursery shots to show off her adorable new space. We are so glad she’s arrived!

Anticipating baby number 3

At 39 weeks we are nearly ready. I have a list of 10 or so things left to do at work, but at this point, I’m behaving as though we are functioning on borrowed time. I’ve said since about 30 weeks that I’d like her to give me up to the Friday before her due date to get things done. I wanted to round out getting the teams on “auto-pilot” at work for while I’m away and I have a few writing tasks (annual reports, etc.) that need my attention before I go, but they aren’t stressing me out too much, because even if she arrives tomorrow, I’m confident I’ll get them done. These two photos are in the last four weeks, as I rounded out the final stretch of waiting for our baby girl and the third one is right before we went to the hospital to meet our newest love.

At home we’re feeling pretty ready. In the last few weeks we’ve had a handful of unexpected events that pushed along our readiness in drill sergeant fashion.  First the Jeep finally died. The brakes went out and we really were not interested in putting a dime into it, so it was time to buy a new car. We knew this would happen sometime this summer, but didn’t exactly anticipate it at the end of my pregnancy, but whatever, we kept chugging along. So, we sold the Jeep on craigslist (hooray!) about 20 minutes after it posted (people love their Jeeps!) and then leased a Ford Flex for Drew. This also meant that another “honey do” task was moved up to the top of the list- cleaning out the garage. A new car meant we had to create the space for both vehicles in the garage, so we spent a weekend cleaning furiously.

At the same time we’ve been working on the mudroom (which is a post of all its own) and its coming along. We plan to finish before she arrives and are nearing the painting stage. This was a big project, so I’ll be glad when its off the list.

On top of these two fun things, we landscaped the front yard. Well, we half landscaped. When landscaping we figured out there was a foundation issue with the house, so we had to call the contractor who is taking his sweet time coming out to fix the issue, meaning half the front yard has new plants, and half looks like an excavation site. Ugh.

Outside of these three major tasks though we don’t have tons left at home to do. The nursery is ready, the car seat is installed, my hospital bag is packed, cameras are charged, back up care for the boys is secured. We’re on track to have a baby. We do need to finish planting the garden, but my hope is that can happen here there or anywhere J

But, even though we are ready and waiting in many ways, my body is seriously complaining. At 39 weeks I’m certainly not small. My body is really uncomfortable, and everything is a chore. The boys have taken to letting me “win” any race or competition: mom, come downstairs with me! Me: Okay, but I’m really slow, boys: its okay, we’ll stay behind you!

I can’t sleep well- it takes no less than four pillows strategically placed, and the heartburn is the worst I’ve ever had. Even with Prilosec every day, I can still feel the stomach acid in my throat. I’ve been on and off nauseous and feeling a little like the front end of pregnancy instead of at the tail end, which is no fun.

Life in general is much slower- this last bit I’ve found myself stuck in a few spots. Mostly between the car door and the garage wall, wondering how I’ll get in or out of the car. I can’t quite master a handful of regular tasks- tying my shoes; lifting the laundry off the floor into the washer; walking up and down stairs, and trying to stay on top of all the tasks the boys need. Its like a slow motion turtle took over. I’m trying though!

In these last few weeks I went on Collin’s zoo field trip, we traveled to LA for Erik’s wedding and I found out I was awarded three major awards- two IES grants for 1.4 million each and one SBIR grant, so work has been exciting. This feels a little bit like a “when pigs fly” scenario, and amazingly, it happened just all on top of anticipating one of the soon to be best days of our lives- baby Hollman #3’s birthday.

So, we’re taking the good with the bad, and hoping that we can balance out the things left to do with her due date to ease into a relaxing and anything-but-frantic approach to maternity leave. Wish us luck!

Owen's preschool graduation

My baby isn’t really a baby anymore. The 24^th of May marked Owen’s last day at Children’s Way, his last moments of preschool. It was a day filled with all the feels. Owen has been showing me some really wonderful growth lately- I see him working hard to be kind and control his frustration and he’s really been quite helpful each day, making his bed, not waking Collin, things that earlier this month even were not easy to come by. I’m so proud of him and I love to see him make such accomplishments, but at the same time, Owen, my sweet tiny baby boy, is anything but a baby anymore. He’s headed to Kindergarten as an independent, amazing, bright, persistent and passionate kiddo and that transition, moving out of preschool into Kindergarten, is something I didn’t think would be so hard on me, but here we are and I want to hang on for a few more minutes.

Children’s Way really is a fantastic preschool – we’ll miss terribly the teachers there and all the amazing things that they do with the kids, and I’ll miss getting to spend time chatting with the moms and seeing Owen with his buddies- many of whom are moving on to other schools for K, which is sad for us. We’ve built some really fantastic relationships with these families over the past 5 years.

Owen is ready though, and anxious to be at EDW. We hope he’ll be in Lindsey Field’s class, and we hope too that he’ll love her just as much as Collin did. He’s heading into K with an arsenal of skills- fantastic social skills, early reading skills, and some beginning math. He’ll do great I know. I have no anxieties about the fun ahead.

But still, I’m losing preschool.

Now I know that there is a new baby just around the corner, so its not as though that phase has entirely passed, but its different with Owen. He’s been my cuddler, my youngest for so long it feels like there is something missing now. Like someone took one of my limbs, because up until now his identity has been tied to being the youngest, the one I cut the most developmental slack, the one I practice patience with. But now, here we are nearing K, and he doesn’t need those things any longer. He needs a momma who sees him as an independent Kindergartener.

And so, I am trying. With all my might to see him through that lens. I’ve put away the glasses that helped me nurture him from a baby, to toddler to preschooler, in exchange for the ones that help him continue on as a little boy in Kindergarten.

Sigh.

Parenting is hard. And heartbreaking. And wonderfully rewarding all at the same time.

To Kindergarten and new adventures, new growth and to little boys who turn into young gentlemen.

Collin's 7th birthday

It’s a sunny day in Los Angeles. We are here to celebrate Erik and Patty’s wedding, and we’re so happy to share in their day, but at the same time we are missing Collin’s 7^th birthday back at home. He’s enjoying his time with grandma and his brother and probably doesn’t miss us at all since he’s being spoiled and we’ve celebrated much of the week before we left, but that doesn’t make me feel any less guilty for being away.

This year I’m having a hard time with 7. It feels really old. I’m hanging on to 6 with all I have, and up until today reported I have a 6 year old. Drew corrected me each time—“he’s almost 7!” but I persevered. 7 was just too much for me.

7 is sort of that lucky sweet spot in childhood, not too young to be independent, not too old to still see the innocence of the world. 7 really will be an amazing year, I’m certain. But, 6 marked a ripe transition for me, and I’ve watched small changes happen that pull at my heart strings.

This year Collin was in 1^st grade- and what a year of learning it was! He’s really started to get a handle on focus and attention, and I was pleasantly surprised to see him hold his own in the classroom with others to be able to get his work done. His reading skills took off—he learned to love chapter books and now reads for pleasure all the time. He’s grown interested in Pokemon and Minecraft and has wandered through the joys and challenges of budding friendships.

During six, this year Collin still holds my hand when we cross the parking lot, but somewhere across the year, he noticeably moved from a kiss goodbye to a hug goodbye each morning. He still says I love you mom frequently, but also has shared with us a new found set of accusations. For the first time this year we heard “you are so mean!” and it broke my heart a little.

I don’t mean to highlight the negative though. Collin remains one of the most compassionate kids I know, and I honestly think he might be one of the most patient. He’s so kind to Owen even when Owen is losing his cool and while he does on occasion hit Owen back, snatch things or commit other common brother-ly offenses, he almost never does those sorts of things with others. He’s thoughtful and kind and generally wants to be everyone’s friend, which I love dearly about his personality.

At seven Collin now finds more value in figuring things out himself, which I adore. He loves figuring out Lego kits, putting together snap circuits and building things. This year he joined Cub Scouts (after a massive move by the Cub Scout powers that be to be more inclusive) and has loved every minute of it.

This year his favorite color is still red, with purple fading out. He still loves pizza probably the most, and ice cream is probably his favorite treat. He still doesn’t love chocolate a whole lot, among other various foods that he’s tried and not loved all that much.

He’s still got a crazy intense encyclopedic knowledge of dinosaurs; still adores camping and riding his bike. He’s still in so many ways my little boy; I can squeeze a snuggle in here and there without protest and he’ll choose to sit by me and be with me often, which I savor, because I know it won’t last that much longer.

This year he lost his first tooth, learned to throw a baseball (pretty well, in fact) and increased in responsibility and respect four fold. He’s definitely growing up, and I’m definitely watching it all happen wishing for it to slow down.

So, now that officially, he’s 7, even though we are thousands of miles away, I send my heart across the country to say:

Dear Collin,

I remember the day you came into our lives well. It was so warm that May 21^st- the lilacs were in bloom and you were shorts home from the hospital. Your birth will be forever associated with the incoming summer weather. I was overwhelmed with emotion that day, becoming a mom, but I had no idea what was in store for me. You are everything I ever dreamed I’d have in our first son. You push me to be a better mom, to remember that we are all working to learn from our mistakes all the time. You remind me to be silly more often than serious and to reflect on what you’ll remember each morning as we get ready for the day and how we balance out the effort to be positive over challenging. You are inquisitive, so very curious about the world, and in some ways more empowered than I ever was to ask questions and find answers. Your privilege is sometimes shocking to me, but I have to remember that you are small and there will be time in many years to help you learn how to reconcile that privilege to be as respectful as possible to others.

Your heart is so generous. You share and smile and bring kindness into all the interactions in our lives. You help us to see the connections between the moments of your childhood and the lasting impact it will have on your character and confidence. I’m so proud of who you are, and so happy to be able to say that we’ve nurtured those moments with intention to teach you how to be generous, kind, empathetic and helpful, and so far, it’s been a resounding success.

When others ask about you, I describe you as my thinker, my curious boy, who’s heart is so much bigger than I expected you could find in a 7 year old. Your empathy and compassion for others stands out as something unique- you really do feel intensely for others when things happen, and share intense joy when something goes right, and intense grief, when something goes wrong. I tell others that you are so sensitive, that your heart is so generous with love that it feels much of what others don’t. You still get worked up watching movies and we have to remind you that it will all be okay, that its just a movie.

You are my sweet and smart, but always working to improve, 7 year old. You make us so proud of all you’ve done and who you are growing up to be. Even though I lamented your turning 7, I have to admit I am excited to see what milestones you surpass this year, and what you have in store to teach us along the way as we too try to teach you the ways of the world.

Happy birthday my dear sweet baby boy.

My love for you is wider than an ocean, vaster than the stars and stronger than the sun.

Momma

A finished Quilt!

I fnished it! Before the baby was born. That's a major improvement for me. Here it is in all its finished glory. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, but of course, I learned a few things along the way. Like: my triangles were far from perfect, and as a result it made my top quilt sewing far from parallel. The lines are all wonky here, but it grew on me. My "free hand" "sorta straight" quilting.

I still haven't figured out quite how to get my pace consistent with the right tension on the bobbin, which makes the underside thread sometimes bunch up and look hideous, so, to hide those spots I made stars with the same fabrics and placed them over my errors. I had planned it all along...er... sure.

Another lesson learned- I sewed many of these triangles pretty darn close to their edges. Like less than 1/8th of an inch. Which is fine right up until you wash it. the first time it goes in the wash and bam those seams pop and you're stuck figuring out how to repair the top quilt so the fabrics don't come a part. Lesson number 2, there is a reason for 1/4 inch allowances in sewing. Stick to them!

But all in all, its still pretty, I still love it and there will be a fun story to tell about it when baby girl is big enough to appreciate it. Or maybe when she tries to make her own quilt.

Until then, it will sit on the back of her rocker, and when we're cold and need to snuggle this winter, we'll have it there to wrap up in.