celebrating and remembering

Yesterday my baby turned three.  I'm not sure how it's possible that three years have already gone by since this sweet one entered our lives.  

This was my very first blog post ever, written shortly after he was born...


Two weeks ago our fourth baby was born.  The birth was amazing.  I had him at home in a waterbirth tub.  Both of our boys were born this way.  It's just coincidence that our girls were born in hospitals.  Each birth was special.  Each time a precious life joined our family.  We are truly blessed.  I have to admit though, I'm tired.  We had our first baby just days before I turned 25.  Now she's 10....

...  That was the beginning of a blog entry I started a few weeks ago.  I don't remember now why I never got a chance to finish.  Sadly, there are other things these days that I start and forget to finish.  Like laundry.

I have a friend who had her fifth baby a few months before I had our fourth.  She had always wanted six, but after number five, she kept saying "I'm getting too old for this!".  I thought that was silly.  She's a few years younger than me, and I felt great.  I had another wonderful pregnancy.  I truly love being pregnant, and even enjoy labor and delivery.  It's so amazing and incredible.  But afterwards, I feel it.  Especially this time.  Another amazing birth experience, but the contracting uterus pains afterwards (for several days) were not fun.  And engorgement was not so good either.  It took until just recently for my little guy to have a good latch so that it finally doesn't hurt so much when I feed him.  We decided even before he was born that this was our "fourth and final".  And I'm ok with that.  I love being a mom.  I love that each of our kids has their own personality and gifts.  Brooklyn is our creative one.  Our planner.  You throw out an idea and she'll run with it, planning out every detail.  Zeke is thoughtful and sensitive, and also very athletic.  He loves skateboarding, and I just learned from watching Extreme Makeover Home Edition last week, that he's into le parkour.  There's actually a name for all the crazy jumping, spinning moves he does around the house.  Mercy is a bundle of joy and energy.  And she's at that age where she's always saying something that I should be writing down.  Like the other night when she tried to climb a tree. She didn't get very far, but then she backed away and looked up at it and proclaimed, "MY God made that tree!"  Judah is very sweet and mellow.  He's starting to smile and trying to make sounds and talk to us.  But mostly he still sleeps, and when he's awake, he's very content.

Little Judah is now two months old, and I think I'm getting the hang of this, having four kids.  I'm not always on time anymore, and grocery shopping with all of them is not my favorite, but life is good.  More correctly, God is good.  He's been so sweet to me, answering so many big and simple prayers.   I'm not a great mom.  I forget things and loose my temper and don't always have clean socks for them to wear.  But I love them with all my heart and am trying to savor every moment I have with them.

familyjenny1 Comment