Alive and Kicking

I'm aware of how long it has been since the last post. Also aware of the fact that I left the blog hanging in the middle of a crisis. And in the next post, I will strive to explain the incredibly long absence. For now, I just want to welcome myself back to the blogging world and say our family is well (except for the nasty colds we have) and still plugging along :)

My two beautiful kids this past October :) Annabelle was just shy of 1.

Monday Blues

His cheesy smile---I love him beyond reason!!

All of my parents grandkids as of early September. Annabelle will be joining the bunch next :)


Well, today has been less than stellar. I think it has been the worst one since the very beginning. I woke up and just had the strongest urge to go home...to be in my home with my family. Tomorrow marks 3 weeks in the hospital so far and if things go as we hope, we have 7 more to go. Today, it all seemed so insurmountable. Like it would never end and then the guilt came for feeling this way when I know that its good that we are still here for Annabelle. As strange as it may sound, sometimes it still doesn't feel real.

I got to see my boy this weekend. It has to be said, he is the most beautiful thing in the entire world. He sat by me!! Oh, was I a happy mama. He kissed my belly and wanted me to come with him everywhere. Then, him and my niece Bailey ran around the lobby with the toys trying to catch each other. What a joy it was to see him smile and laugh so freely. Admittedly, it is still hard to only watch and not be a part of it, but just the fact that I get to see makes me happy.

We have another ultrasound tomorrow morning, so I'll let ya'll know what is going on soon as I hear.

The beginning of our Journey

The first time he let me hold him since I'd been in the hospital. Almost 2 weeks in. I could have stayed there forever with him.


Hello all. Yes, yes I am aware of how long I've gone without updating. I have no excuses except that I just suck at blogging. However, recent events have spurred me to begin again. It's kind of crazy to be starting this story when we haven't even announced our bun in the oven on our blog, but what can you do?

Where to start? Where to start? Perhaps that we found out we were pregnant in April of this year, just a little bit after Elliott's second birthday. Both of us were super excited to say the least, but also a bit nervous about entering into that two children under 3 in one househould era of our lives ;) But the thought of bringing another beautiful spirit to the Earth was also wonderous and humbling. I have a strong testimony of my divine role as a mother and everytime I think about how I get to be part of the creation process (THE CREATION PROCESS PEOPLE!!!) it gives me the tingles and I feel very close to the Lord. On the other hand, I was not looking forward to the first trimester one little bit. With Elliott I was horribly sick and they put me on medication so I would stop losing so much weight. This time around I was hoping and praying that it would be better, but as usual this little Lindsey was dead wrong :) I cannot decscribe to you how much worse it was. If you happened to step into my disaster of a house at the time, you would have seen how bad it got. My bathroom and commode became very familiar to me until I was about 20-21 weeks along. Once again, I thought now it was all going to be smooth sailing until the end---wrong wrong wrong.

On September 12, I got up and was leaking a bit. Now, I didn't think much about it because I thought I was just peeing a bit when coughing or sneezing as I had been doing the whole pregnancy. Elliott and I went to music class and had fun singing and dancing--he insisted I get up and down for all the songs....silly boy didn't understand my heaving and huffing. After that we went home for a much needed nap (don't you love naptime) and when we got up we headed out to my parent's place so my mom and I could can some salsa. Busy busy day and throughout it I kept leaking every now and then, at that time it was more annoying to me than alarming.

As Elliott and I were getting ready to head home to Daddy, my mom and dad offered to keep Elliott for the night and the next day as it was our wedding anniversary on the 13th. Now, Elliott has stayed at his grandparents house many times and I usually have no problems leaving him, other than the normal missing him part. But that night, I had this strange reluctance and sadness that came over me when I thought about going home without him. In some strange way, I thought it would be the last time I saw him for awhile. I pushed these feelings away and agreed---I mean who doesn't want a nice date out with their husband on an anniversary without having to worry about childcare? As I was driving home I felt all the misgivings again, but was able to tune them out when I got to Cameron. We cuddled and watched some TV and then headed to bed, both looking forward to our 4 year anniversary the next day!!

Grrrrrrr. This next part is so hard to write and to remember. It feels like I'm reliving it every time it crosses my mind. Part of it still seems like a nightmare that happned to someone else. Phew...

Around 6:15 the next morning I woke up in a puddle. Such a strange sensation and at first I was astounded, wondering if I just full-out peed my pants. Then my heart slowly started to pound and I got up to go to the bathroom and clean up. As I was walking, I kept leaking and then by the time I got into the bathroom there was another puddle. It didn't smell like pee. I have to be honest, right at that moment my mind shut off and I climbed back into bed and curled into a fetal position and tried not to think about it. Something was wrong and I couldn't handle it for a couple minutes. I finally called my OB office as soon as it was open. They called me back quickly and asked how far I was away from them and how quick I could get there...then told me to leave right away. I was only 24 weeks and 5 days. It was not okay, it wasn't normal, and my heart started breaking right then.

To make a long story shorter, I got to the office....was examined and as soon as I saw the doctors face as she was checking me out down there, I broke down and started sobbing. Oh....oh...my baby girl. What was going to happen to her?? To some people, she may not have been considered my daughter yet, but to me she was mine as soon as I saw the pregnancy stick. I felt her kick everyday and listened to her heartbeat. For goodness sakes, I'd seen her on the ultrasound. SHE WAS MINE!!!!!

They hadn't explained to me yet that it was possible to keep her in me if they could get me stable, so right then I thought she was coming right then and her chances were.....not good. I got hold of Cameron and he rushed over from work and as soon as I saw him, we both broke down and clung to each other. How could this be happening to us, to our beautiful child, to our family? Was it even possible that this could be our life now? I love this man. The Lord has blessed me with a kind and loving husband. I couldn't imagine going through this without him. I am grateful everyday that he is not afraid to show how much he loves me and our children, born or in the womb.

Once Cameron got there, they immediately wheeled me over to the hospital and did the triage work and gave us more knowledge about our options and what they could do. We got a ray of hope, we could keep her in the womb growing if I stayed on bedrest in the hospital. Also, if they could keep infection and contractions away. I prayed every second of that day. I begged and pleaded for our daughters life on this Earth. I know that Heavenly Father loves my Annabelle and that she is His daughter too, but I wasn't ready to let her go back to Him yet. She has stuff to do on this Earth!

It has been over two weeks since that morning and day. Annabelle is growing, kicking, and making herself well known. She is now 2 lbs. and I am 27 weeks and 1 day along. Yes, we count every day. It matters. Our first goal is 28 weeks because her chances at that point go up even more! After that we are shooting for 34 weeks as that is as far as they will let me go. It's hard. And every twitch and twinge in my body scares me to death, but I'm trying with all my might to be strong and trust the Lord.

The hardest part of this is being away from my Elliott. A little part of me dies each day that I miss with him. I cannot explain the heartache of knowing that this is the best thing I can be doing for Annabelle, but that it means Elliott has to experience a trial so early in his life. I try not to think that I'm choosing between my children. This is a short time in our families lives and Elliott and Annabelle are both strong spirits and they will get through this and we will be closer than ever.

Struggling

I haven't been the best Lindsey the last week and a half. I haven't gotten much sleep...not much at all in fact. A week ago I started dropping down on another medication and in 15 days I will be off of it completely. Then I shall have only one more to go.

I would never have thought that this particular battle would be mine. Never would have guessed that waiting to try for another child would be based on when I would be off medication for postpartum, but there you have it and I have to deal with it someway or another. Sometimes less dealing and more crying....sometimes screaming at the world that it shouldn't have to be this hard. But seriously, what does the world care? I have one child it says, why should I be selfish and try for another one? Why should I even think of doing it again when I know what COULD happen? Why would I want to do that to myself and family again? Why are you so selfish Lindsey?

Perhaps this isn't the world speaking, but my own personal demons. Perhaps I worry what other people think or say about it. Perhaps I am just plain, out and out terrified. I can't pretend that I am not anymore. My heart hurts, my anxiety builds and I want to close my eyes and make it all go away. I yearn for another child, I yearn to give Elliott a sibling and friend. It is a strong desire of my heart. However, at the thought of it, my pulse starts picking up and my palms start sweating. It seems silly to those who may have not gone through it, but to me it is very real fear. Words can never ever describe the hell of postpartum. Mine was pretty severe, so perhaps its not always so bad.
What I am struggling with right now is telling myself that I can do this. That I am strong enough and that wanting another child does not make me stupid or selfish. How funny it is when we learn that we are our worst enemy.

2011 and the Rounce Family

Last year our family started a new year's tradition. Usually one of the early Mondays of January we do a special Family Home Evening where we come up with our Family Motto, Scripture and Song for the year. These are done to help us grow together as a family and to focus our thoughts on the Savior. Along with those, we do individual goals and family goals and frame them on the wall to remind us every day of them. I love doing this, it helps that I'm a born list maker, but I also love having united goals as a family. We don't always live up to them, but we sure do try.

Anyway, I was thinking of what songs and what kind of theme we wanted this year and Michael Jackson's Man in the Mirror came on the radio and I just knew! Now this song is one of my all time favorites so I already knew the lyrics and the meaning behind them. Our family is really big on service and trying to "make the world a better place." After all, I do have a degree in social work. But sometimes...well most of the time, we cannot change other people or what they do. However, what we can do is change and work on ourselves. There are always ways we can improve and strive for more. More for our families, wards, communities, and even more for the world. Everyday we can make better decisions, we can become better people which in turn will benefit others. It is vitally important to me that my children grow up very aware of other people and that we are here to serve. That not everybody has the things we do or the opportunities. I want my children to be good people. One of my worst nightmares is of my children being bullies. I won't have it. Whew....okay...after that rant..back to the purpose.
This song means that to me and I hope it will help inspire my family.

So here is a video of it. Warning, it may hard to watch.




And just for fun...some wicked Whitney Houston. Gotta love the 80's...and the clothes :)





What old songs just make you smile?

As promised....well sort of

I spoke of updating my blog on facebook and I am now here to make good on that statement. However, I am missing one crucial element...photos. Somehow I cannot make them work on my laptop. Which is very sad, since I happen to have a very beautiful family:) So for now you will have to get along just with my babblings and musings.

Life has gone on since my last post, as it is apt to do. Christmas has come and gone. It was hectic, beautiful, and precious. As a parent, it has come to mean so much more. I've decided that I need to try harder each year to make it special in many ways. I will bring Santa into my children's lives because I believe it is magical and not lying if you don't make it the most important thing. However, what troubles me is the importance of helping them to understand about the little baby who changed our world, our lives and our very souls. I hope that I am up to the task, I hope that I can convey my love for the Savior to them in a way that will create a flame of love and desire to grow closer to Him. Perhaps I over think things...

On a completely different note, I have been thinking about soldiers lately. About their sacrifice, about their lives and courage. At times it can make me cry with gratefulness. I am not entirely sure where these bursts of thought and love are coming from, but either way I am acknowledging them as something meaningful.
I have to honestly say I don't know if I have the courage to be a soldier. People who know me well know that I do not do well with pain and suffering...not my own, but watching others. It physically hurts me and I become so upset because I can't do anything to help. I could probably die of pain from that alone. I live in a great country, I am free and own a home. My life is relatively pain free and I am not worried about invasions or extreme poverty. I have a family who loves me and a son whom I love beyond my wildest dreams. How incredibly blessed I am. And I owe a great debt of gratitude to all soldiers of all eras who have ever put their lives in danger for a cause they believed in. For their families...their children, husbands, and wives. They are true heroes and I want to find a way to help those who come home....those who come home wounded in many ways, many of them not physically visible. These people have something inside of them that I apparently don't and I love them for it. God bless them.

Prayer

So, I have spent an inordinate amount of time trying to put a picture of praying hands on this blog from the web. It has become apparent that I am really stupid because I still do not know how, so I decided to put my big girl panties on and write my thoughts down without t. Because, you see, they are very precious and sweet thoughts about my son Elliott.

Now of course you remember that he is just 19 months old and very...obstinate. And I say this with all the love of my mommy heart. Elliott is sweet, smart, and loving, but he has his own mind and is not afraid to let anyone know it. Which is why prayer time at meals and at bedtime has always been both frustrating and entertaining. However, just the other night, I asked him to put his hands together for prayer and showed him how with my hands. And much to our surprise and delight he held them right together!! Can you imagine the love and pride this little mommy had?? I am pretty sure I clasped my hands and let out a big ole "awwwww." All that cliche stuff. Anyways, back to the point of this post. Prayer.

During sacramet at church on Sunday I asked him to put his hands together again for one of the prayers. He was leaning against my arms and did just what I asked. I couldn't help but peek and look at his tiny baby fingers laced together. Those tiny little indents instead of knuckles. The miniscule nails. It touched my heart so deep. To see these innocent hands folded in prayer. To see this son of mine take another step towards knowing his Savior. I felt a renewed testimony for the power of prayer. Grateful for all the blessings and answers I have ever recieved from talking to my Father in Heaven. I knew that I had to make a committment everyday to strive to be the best Mom ever. To make sure he knows I have a testimony, that he sees me pray and knows how strongly I believe it in.

I want my son to be better than I am.

Grrr

I cannot figure out how to put any other image on here. From the web. As soon as my husband comes home...... I'll get back to the post.

being a good mom

It is hard. I try so much everyday and I still feel like I fail most of the time. How do we know we are giving them everything they need to grow, learn, and love? When I have one of those days where I don't come up with any "educational" activities and I spend most of the day doing laundry and dishes..how do I know i haven't totally held him back?

There are some days where I know that I'm on the right track, but somehow that same feeling can be flushed down the toilet the next day.

Just a mom venting a little.....just a mom getting through a day.....just a mom who loves her child so much she worries too much about messing him up :)