The Birth of Milo Bennett: Part III

  I had promised myself I would do whatever it took, whatever I was told to do, to get this baby out of me. So when I was told to sit on the corner of my bed, I did it. After a little bit of laboring like that, though, I started to feel....not great. I finally had to tell the midwives I felt like I was going to pass out. Lisa noticed my legs were "white as sheets" and I was told to lie down. It helped.

  When I tried to sit back up, after I finally recovered, we ran into a problem: every time I sat up, I would start to faint. When I couldn't sit on the edge of the bed anymore, couldn't sit on the bed at all, they suggested I try to sit on the toilet. While I had been so horrified of the prospect of having Sam on a toilet, I was willing to do it this time, if it meant ending my labor. But once I was sitting there, and the first contraction hit, I had to have David help me lie down on the ground, immediately. I almost blacked out sitting there. This would be one of two setbacks that would almost defeat me mentally. I had been so determined to follow advice, so sure I could do whatever it took this time to make the baby come faster. It was a tremendous blow. Lying there, on the cool tile floor, I was defeated. 

  When I was able, David helped me back to the bed, under my midwives' watchful eyes, where I had to remain lying down for a while. After a bit more labor, Kathleen asked me if I thought I could labor up on my knees, on the bed, propped up with pillows. I didn't think I could, but I was still hell-bent on doing whatever it took to get Milo out. It was difficult, but with pillows stacked just so and David helping to support me, it wasn't impossible. 

  

  In all of this time, Kathleen had asked me several times if I wanted my water broken. I kept declining, knowing that breaking my water meant I lost a precious cushion that helped me to feel "less pain." She asked me again, though, while I was propped up on my knees, and I finally desperately asked her, "Will it make it hurt more?" Kathleen answered that she honestly didn't think I could feel more pain at this time. 

  I conceded. 

  I braced myself, she reached up, and pop. Relief. "Oh, that feels good." For a sweet, blessed moment, that offered me such a glorious reprieve from the pain. 

  And then Milo turned again. Please, come out, little boy. Deep breaths. This pain will end. Moaning. David stroking my arm. Kathleen behind me. This pain will end. 

  

  Kathleen decided she should try to turn Milo's head. I conceded. Pain. So much pain. Please, stop spinning, little boy. Come out. Kathleen's hand still inside me. She gave me options for something, I couldn't focus on what, asked me what I wanted. "Whatever gets your hand out of me." I can do this. Deep breaths. Next contraction. He turned again. 

  Milo spun with nearly every single contraction. Kathleen told me when it was nearly done that I kept going from 9cms to 7cms, and then 9, 7, 9, 7, with every turn. She would rotate him, the next contraction would hurt less, he would turn again. Over and over. 

  At some point I couldn't labor like that anymore, and I had to lie back down. It was better and worse. So frustrated that I couldn't move freely, the advice I give every other mama. Move around, do what you need to to progress your labor. Trapped in my bed, again. 

  And then Milo did something very weird. Kathleen would later tell me that they thought he did a complete turn on his head, and hit a nerve in me. I immediately started vomiting, violently. This was almost my undoing. This was the other item on my self-made Labor Agenda: Eat and drink. I had done such a poor job of eating and drinking with Sam's labor, had thrown up three times (once in early labor, in transition, and right before pushing), that I had been so set on making sure I was hydrated and had food in my belly this time. I'd had two pieces of toast right before Kathleen had arrived, had been drinking water, Vitamin Water, even a Coke when I started to faint to help perk me up. And just like that, it was all gone. "This is good," Kathleen kept chanting. "This is good. This will help the baby descend. This is good. You're doing good, girl." I wanted to cry, but it would require too much effort.

  I didn't have much time to focus on that, though, as Kathleen put the doppler to my belly and searched...and searched...and searched for his heartbeat. After a minute, she finally found it and told me very quietly, calmly and seriously, that the baby was in fetal distress. I needed to be rolled onto my right side and given oxygen, now. 

  I laid there, as the next contraction rolled over me, trying to breathe deeply for the baby. I knew I should be afraid, but I honestly just didn't have the strength. Everything I had left was dealing with the pain. Please be ok. Please, stop spinning. Please, let this end. 

  After a few minutes (1? 5? 10? I have no idea), everything was okay again. Kathleen checked me, and I was finally ready to push. Sam was brought in by my Mom. In what I feel like was about 10 pushes, he was finally out! Just like that - all of that work, all of that pain, all of that effort - and my precious baby boy was delivered into this world. Milo was born at 3:13pm, 7lbs 12ozs, sunny side up and with his fingers in his mouth, and immediately placed on my chest, warm, wet and crying. Ten and a half hours of hard labor for the happiest little boy I have ever known. 

  Milo was the perfect addition for our beautiful family. He instantly quieted down, nursed like a champ, and looked, wide-eyed, at his new world. We snuggled together, he and I, skin to skin, for an hour. Then he was cleaned up, weighed, measured, examined, and we were both given a bath and then dressed. 

  While Kathleen was cleaning up, I believe after our bath, Kathleen asked me if I wanted to see the placenta. This struck me as a very odd question; she hadn't asked that when I had Sam, so I said no. Why? "I didn't tell you," she asked me. No.. 

  I had a velamentous cord insertion. She explained that this meant that instead of the cord attaching in the middle of the placenta, like it's supposed to, the umbilical cord attaches and implants on the side of the placenta. This meant that at any given moment, Milo could have kicked his cord loose and bled out - and we'd have never known until it was too late. We could have lost him with a kick. She told me that any time they have babies born with this, they call them "miracle babies." I did research on it on my own, later, and learned that when these are detected they are made to have the babies in a hospital, and if the cord is lying over the cervix, the babies are always taken by C-section at 36 weeks, because they will die in labor. And again God told us your babies are a gift. Never take them for granted. 

  We thought we were losing Milo at 7 weeks pregnant. We thought we were losing Milo at 12 weeks. And we could have lost our precious, very active in my womb, little boy at any moment in the pregnancy. We could have lost him in delivery. Milo Bennett. Our little soldier, my little trooper. Our second precious gift from God. 

Big brother meets little brother for the first time

Me and my amazing midwife, Kathleen 

The Birth of Milo Bennett: Part II

  Kathleen arrived around midnight, and let me go through a couple of contractions while she unpacked her equipment. She monitored Milo's heart rate, which was great, and then checked me during a break. I was dilated to 3cms, but still had a little lip and my cervix was still hard, too hard for her to even try to force me open any more. She drew a bath for me and had me labor in the bathtub for a half hour to an hour, hoping I might dilate more while relaxed in the tub. While the temperature of the bath was nice, not being able to move around during contractions was not my favorite. I got out of the tub, she let me have a few more contractions and checked me again....No progress. By this time it was around 2am. Kathleen said I had a couple options: she could give me an injection with a strong herbal pain killer to help me sleep for a while or I could take some phenergan to help me sleep. While taking anything wasn't ideal - I had gone the entire pregnancy without taking anything but three other phenergans - I had been through all of this before, and the thought of being awake for hours before "real" labor kicked in was totally unappealing. And at this point the back labor was in full force, and I knew that when it really kicked into gear I would be needing all the rest I could get. I had phenergan but, of course, couldn't find it at the time, so we ended up opting for the injection of wolf's...something. I know I should remember what it was, but I was already in enough pain to not remember well.
  So I got the shot and laid down. I wasn't convinced that it would work, but it was the best chance I had at sleep. Contractions sucked at this point, but were still manageable. Kathleen packed back up her equipment and gave me the now well-known "call me if your contractions get stronger, if your water breaks" or if I hit 4cms. She had been convinced the whole pregnancy that once I hit 4cms, that baby would basically come shooting out. (See: Sam's birth story for explanation.) She left and at 3am David and I closed our eyes and fell asleep.

  Two and a half hours later I was woken from a dead sleep to wide awake with a crazy contraction. This was the real thing. When it abated, I woke David and told him it was definitely Go Time. We waited through one more contraction to be sure, I got up and peed and checked myself. 3.5cms. Progress. I need progress. David called my parents and told them it was time to come and Mom and Dad Franklin were put on high alert. Sam woke around 6:30 and found Daddy cleaning the kitchen and Mommy on all fours draped over a yoga ball. My folks arrived around 8am and found me sitting on the yoga ball bouncing and swaying between contractions, trying to get that little sucker's head all the way down and out. I checked myself again. 3.5cms. I need progress. Please.
  It was decided a walk was in order. David, my dad, Sam and I went for a walk around the apartment complex. With each contraction, now coming about 3 minutes apart steadily, I would squat down, and David would push his fists into my lower back to help the pain. I would take a deep breath, moan softly through the pain, and then take another deep breath to signal to David that the contraction was over. He, or my dad, would help me up and we would walk for another couple minutes. We paused after a while at the tiny playground so that I could rest on the bench. I was able to soak up a very sweet moment: Sammy running around with his Daddy and Papa, climbing steps and going down the slide. These were the last hours of my firstborn being my only baby. It was precious to see and be in that moment.
  We walked some more, squatted some more, sat some more. After a while - an hour? Five? - we went back inside, where I promptly draped myself over the yoga ball again for a couple contractions.
  I think it's very important to mention at this point that Milo was spinning on his head this whole time. I mean this whole time. Spinning on his head. Hence the back labor. The crazy intense back labor at this point. Spinning.
  Contractions were intense, gaining speed and strength, and I took a deep breath and checked myself again. 4cms! Hallelujah, praise the Lord! Time to call Kathleen. I told her it was time to come, that the contractions were stronger, longer, and I was finally really dilating. She asked if I was sure. I was actually exaggerating slightly the amount of pain I was in, willing it to be the truth, willing myself to be in transition even though I wasn't wanting to cry yet. She said she was on her way, and we hung up. And then, oh, then! The willing worked. Labor kicked in. Transition hit me, immediately. Like a freight train.
  All of a sudden, I had to lie down and just breathe, just breathe through the contractions. I moaned to let David know when to shove his fists as hard as he could into my low back because, oh! the pain was intense. I told David to call Natalie, our dear sweet friend who was going to photograph the birth. Time to call the Franklins.

  Kathleen arrived around 11:00, and everyone else shortly after (I'm told). Sam was having a good time being the center of everyone not in my room's attention, eating donuts, and watching Curious George (I'm told). Kathleen checked me and agreed that I was, indeed, finally at 4cms, and we should be having our baby soon. Natalie arrived and my mom tried to convince me to put back on the nightgown I'd been wearing because she was "sure I would want it for pictures." I calmly told her that no, I had specifically chosen the very pretty sports bra I was wearing to be decent for pictures, Natalie and I had discussed angles, and I really, really didn't want to put my nightgown back on. (Oh, the things that stick out in labor.)
  Kathleen watched my progress for a while. Her assistant, Lisa, arrived. Time became a very fluid and fuzzy concept for me. I sat on one corner of the bed, legs apart, hips open, as encouraged by Lisa. I focused on each contraction, on breathing through it, on staying loose, on visualizing my cervix opening like a blossom (something we had been coached to do with Sam and something I completely forgot in the sprint that was Sam's transition). I moaned. I prayed. I tuned in and out of conversation around me. I remember at one point something being joked about between my mom and Kathleen, and one of them said that maybe they shouldn't be talking like that around me. I replied that it was fine, I was tuning them out. Worship music played softly. Bless the Lord, Oh my soul. Oils diffused near me. I reminded myself, over and over, that I would not repeat my mistakes with Sam's labor. I would do whatever the midwives told me to do to progress this labor. You're Beautiful. Daylight streaming in. Milo spinning on his head. Waiting. Please, sweet boy, come out.

The Birth of Milo Bennett: Part I

  It's hard to know where to start in telling the birth story of our little Milo. I guess a good place to start is the beginning.

  At 7 weeks pregnant - just three weeks after we had found out we were expecting our little solider - I began experiencing severe pain around my right ovary. I waited a few hours, and as the pain increased, David and I became increasingly concerned. I finally contacted our midwife, Kathleen, and she recommended going to the ER. I was terrified that this was an ectopic pregnancy and we would never get to meet our little Peanut.

  After a couple of hours of waiting, testing, and a sonogram, we were told I had a subchorionic hematoma (a blood clot in the uterus that is usually not life-threatening for mother or baby) and that I needed to be restricted in activity or I could become worse and lose the baby. We were so relieved. And then I was so frustrated. We had planned on waiting five more weeks to announce to the general public that we were expecting again, with something cute and clever. Instead, we announced right away, wanting, needing the prayer coverage and physical support (which was overwhelming). We had to convert Sam's crib to a toddler bed at 10 months old (he did great). I had to ask for help cleaning and with meals and lifting Sam (we had amazing friends and family who selflessly and immediately came to our aid). I couldn't go to the grocery store on my own with Sam (felt like the end of the world to me, but believe it or not, I lived).

  Then, at 12 weeks, I experienced more cramping and spotting - something I had never had in Sam's pregnancy. Again I talked to Kathleen, and I was referred for an emergency sono. The baby was fine, and it was determined I had just been overdoing it. (That was the week before Sam's first birthday, when he contracted strep throat, which turned into Scarlet Fever. I had been holding him a lot.)

  At 21 weeks – so for literally half of my pregnancy – the false labor started. (In case you’re new to our story, I have very severe Endometriosis – so severe, we were warned we might never have children of our own – and I experienced false labor from week 25 with my first pregnancy. Because it was my first pregnancy, we were constantly concerned, stressed, anxious, terrified that we were going to have a pre-term baby. Because of my Endo, we think my uterus is just way more irritable than most.) Thankfully, having been through that with Sam, we weren't worried this time. In fact, contrary to Sam's pregnancy, I barely even monitored my contractions. I just dealt with them and tried to listen to when my body was telling me I was doing too much.

  Around 36 weeks, just as with Sam’s pregnancy, the contractions started to pick up in frequency and intensity. I figured I should probably start keeping track of them now. While they were getting stronger day by day, they weren’t quite at “real” labor yet. I knew Milo would come any day, though, and every day, David would ask me, “Is he coming today? Or am I going to work?” Every day, it was the same answer: “I don’t know. He could come today. But he’s not coming right now. Go to work, I guess.” I began to dread the time of day when David would go to work, because I hated being asked. Every day it was the same: They were stronger, more frequent, I was more frustrated and exhausted by my body. I lived for my weekly checkups, wanting, hoping, praying for progress.

  I had Kathleen check me at week 37. I was dilated 1cm, and about 80% effaced. Kathleen agreed to let me start taking an herbal labor prep supplement at 38 weeks if Milo was “somehow” still in there. At 38 weeks, Tuesday, April 8^th, I started taking the labor prep. I was dying to get the child out of me. I had tried everything short of castor oil. I ate a whole pineapple (and got nothing but mouth ulcers); I walked – a lot – and got more contractions, even some back pain, but no labor; I did squats, I ate spicy food…You name it, I tried it. I was ready, David was ready, but Milo wasn’t.

  On Wednesday, I started to feel even stronger contractions. I saw Kathleen in the morning, had her check me again. I was dilated to almost 2cms now, and around 90% effaced. Milo was in an ideal position for labor, but as the little toot spun on his head all day long, every day, I didn’t see how that was relevant. She was sure that Milo would come before my next week’s appointment.  David was at work, and I suddenly realized at 8pm that I didn’t have any diapers for a newborn. I panicked. My baby could be born tonight, and his butt won’t have anything to cover it!! (Oh, the crazy thoughts of a pregnant lady.) So Sam and I made a trek to Target by ourselves, very tired, very pregnant, and very much suffering through “real” contractions. Every few minutes I would have to stop pushing the cart, bend over and lean against it, focusing on my breathing. We made it home, eventually, both of us exhausted, and…nothing happened. No baby.

  Thursday, I decided to rest. I resolved to take it easy, stay off my feet as much as possible, let the stubborn little boy come when he was ready. (Novel idea, no?) The contractions were still coming hard and heavy, but experience told me that this was still not the real thing.

  Friday, with the contractions coming stronger and more frequently still, I decided to go ahead and go to Target again and stock up on food around 1pm, since I didn’t think this little boy would be baking much longer. I could barely make it through the store. Again, I went with Sam, while David was at work, but, OH, the contractions! I was stopping, squatting in the middle of aisles, inhaling and exhaling, making moans and grunts I think, as I was finally experiencing back labor, about every two minutes. A contraction would hit, I would drop into a squat, clinging to the cart handle for support and balance, it would pass, I would struggle back to my feet and waddle a few more yards before the next one hit. I was finally in very early labor. It was by far the most miserable shopping experience I have ever had. Would you be shopping for 12-packs of soda in this condition? I was. (Oh, the crazy actions of a pregnant lady.)

  After about an hour, we checked out and went home. David got off work at QuikTrip around that time, came home between jobs; he was scheduled to work at Pizza Hut from 5pm-10pm.  Again, the question: Do I go to work tonight? I didn’t know. I could tell we were so close to real labor, but I didn’t know the answer for him. So he went to Pizza Hut. Around 7:00 I texted him that the contractions were getting stronger. At 8:00 I called him and told him to come home. It was still early labor, but it was definitely labor and it was too much for me on my own with Sam. Some time between 8:30 and 9:00, he got home. He bathed Sam and put him in (unmatching) pajamas (which would bug me to no end), and we decided to put him down for the night. Nothing was happening in the immediate future, and we knew it would best for him to have as much rest as possible. I really wanted him in the room when Milo was born, David was more of the “if he’s awake, he’s awake, if he’s asleep, let him sleep” mentality.

  By now, we definitely knew this was the real thing, so David started tidying the apartment and I sat on my yoga ball and bounced, trying to progress without exerting too much precious energy. It was déjà vu “all over again.” I was texting Kathleen and keeping her updated. There was no regularity to the contractions, just like the last time, they would come two minutes, then five minutes, then one and a half minutes apart, and last anywhere from a minute to three minutes. The back labor was increasing in intensity, and (with Kathleen’s permission) I checked myself and discovered I was at 3cms now. At around 11:00 we decided that Kathleen should come. She had said so many times that she was pretty sure that once I hit 4cms, the baby would come very quickly, so nobody wanted to repeat what had happened last time and get down to the wire, so to speak.

Chocolate Chip Lovin'

I have an unhealthy obsession with IHOP's chocolate chip pancakes. My husband can attest to this. And this relationship becomes very unhealthy when I'm pregnant (I'm not, just FYI). For some reason when I think I'm going into labor, that's what I want - and thank the restaurant gods that it's open 24 hours in that case. 

I've searched and searched the limitless resource that is Pinterest for a comparable recipe to make at home, and come up empty time and again! But today, oh, today! I found a recipe! (Bless the Google gods!) I tweaked it a little, and now you can make this yummy breakfast of chocolate-loving champions for yourself too!

IHOP Chocolate Chocolate Chip Pancakes

Yields approximately 6 Pancakes

1 cup flour
5 tablespoons cocoa powder
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup milk (or buttermilk for richer batter)
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup chocolate chips

Whipped cream and syrup to serve

Batter:  In a bowl, combine the all the dry ingredients together. In a measuring cup, measure the buttermilk add the egg and vanilla and whisk to combine. Slowly add the wet ingredients to the dry and whisk until all the dry ingredients are just wet. (The batter should be a little lumpy.)

Cooking the Pancakes:  Over medium heat, melt some butter in a skillet or spray it (I love Trader Joe's Coconut Oil Spray) and let it get warm. Pour about 1/3 cup of batter into the skillet and let it cook until little bubbles form all over the surface. Flip and cook until the other side browns too. 

Serve each person their pancakes with a dollop of whipped cream on top and syrup on the side! Enjoy (and you're welcome)!

2011: the Year of Blessings - 2012: the Year of Miracles

  God is so good! What started off as a year of pain and questioning ended with prayers of praise and witnessing miracles.


  January found David and I still suffering through my shoulder injury (from July 21st of 2009) and facing the decision of an operation. After prayer and consideration, and against the surgeon's preferences, we decided that surgery was the best option. We were given only worst-case scenarios of how they probably wouldn't find anything (two MRI's hadn't shown the source of all my pain, after all) and how I would likely be in more pain post-operation, facing a lifetime of "chronic" pain. In spite of all this we trusted God and set a date for February 23rd.


  February 21st, two days before my surgery was scheduled, I woke up up in some of the worst pain in my life. I feebly drove myself to the ER and was diagnosed with a double kidney infection. I plead with the ER staff and they kindly treated me for it aggressively (even though I wasn't yet vomiting or feverish) in the hopes of keeping my date with my surgeon. Though the infection cleared up quickly, my doctor still postponed my surgery one week. This was emotionally a struggle for me (we were so close), but with much encouragement about God's perfect timing from my beloved family and friends, I persevered.


  March 2nd, I went "under the knife" for the second time in my life. I was nervous, hopeful, anxious, and terrified. What if they don't find the source of my pain? What if the doctor's right? God, please guide his hands and show him what's wrong. David and I really tried not to dwell too long on what might happen if the surgery wasn't successful - I don't think we could handle that; we focused instead, as much as we could, on the confidence we had that they had to find something very wrong. I had just been in pain too long.
  Praise God, Dr. Douthit came to me just moments after I woke up in recovery and delivered some of the best news I've ever received: They found a tear in the "wall" in my shoulder and repaired it! He was still very cautious - recovery would take at least 16 weeks, and there was still no guarantee that they had fixed what had been causing my pain. But we rejoiced.
  All things considered, everything I experienced through my recovery was best-case scenario! I did not experience the excruciating pain that I had been warned of, my family and friends were unbelievably helpful, even my four incisions (David says they look like a vampire bite) are small and barely visible now!


  April found David and beginning to debate a major decision: Do we pack up everything in Texas and move to Pennsylvania for a 6-month business opportunity? I still wasn't working, physical therapy was taking a financial toll, and this seemed like it might be the answer. We began to seek out the advice of family and trusted friends as we had no clue which direction we should go.


  In May we announced that we were going to make the move, cut Texas ties temporarily and venture out in faith.


  In June we changed our minds. Or rather, God made every path to Pennsylvania impossible. And for that we are thankful. Every door we tried to go through was blocked for us, making attempt after attempt to figure out the logistics of moving northward impossible. As it turns out, it was a terrible year for roofers and we thank God for His protection of our little family.
  We did run into a snag, however, when we realized we were not moving to PA, but did have to move since we had already given notice to our leasing office! After several frustrating weeks of searching, we ended up decided God wanted us to move to The Colony. David, Little Brother, Francois and I moved into a wonderful little one-bedroom (b-i-g adjustment from our old two-bedroom) with fantastic neighbors.


  July found me having daily panic attacks as I attempted - and successfully pulled off - a surprise part for David's 30th Birthday. It was great fun, and we loved celebrating it with our precious friends and family. I will never do it again.


  August - what a month! David's younger brother Daniel married Jackie. The wedding was gorgeous and a ton of fun for all, but even better, after the wedding they moved into our apartment complex! The Franklins III (as I call them) live just one building away from us. It's been such a neat adventure going through life together with them, and we thank God for the friendship we have with them in this special time of their life.
  God also answered a prayer request by giving me a job. I began working with a dermatologist's office in Coppell as the front office-type-person (I'm still not sure of my official title; I just do a little of everything). I love my job! I get to work with an amazing physician's assistant, whom I love, in a fantastic (small) environment.


  September was such a fun month for me! I was finally released from my doctor's and physical therapist's care. My shoulder was healed! After two years of pain and frustration, I was healed! I still can't sleep on my left side without discomfort (normal, I'm assured), but otherwise have nearly the full range of motion I did before and can use it fully again.


  October found us struggling a bit. I had laparoscopic surgery in February of 2010 to diagnose and treat Endometriosis. At the time all I was told was that there was more Endometriosis than  the doctor had expected to find, but that he cleaned it all up and I "should be good to go now." Fast forward nearly two years. I saw a new OB/GYN, who informed me after viewing my file from the surgeon that I had stage 4 Endometriosis - the most severe amount possible. We also discovered that David had some fertility issues and were told not to try to start a family naturally and on our own, as it was both extremely unlikely to happen and too dangerous for me to be off my medication for that long. (I was called a "ticking time bomb" twice.) She was the second OB/GYN in a year to iterate that it would be ideal for me to have a hysterectomy by age 30.
  It was a very trying couple of weeks for me especially, but God was faithful and led us to an amazing homegroup within our church at the end of that same month. This faithful group of men and women encouraged us, cried with us, and boldly prayed for healing with us.


  November passed rather uneventfully. We continued praying for the Lord's guidance, working, and eating - or at least, I did. David successfully dieted for the entire month and lost nearly 20 pounds!


  December was a sweet month of fellowship with friends and family. Double dates, an ugly sweater party, game nights, homegroup meetings, yoga with my sister-in-law, and an engagement party kept us happily busy all month. Christmas was a wonderful time with mine and David's families and of relaxation.
  We were also shocked and extremely grateful for answered prayer when I experienced a slightly lessened amount of pain from the Endometriosis and a set of labs returned with several medical anomalies - which had been persisting for two years - mysteriously resolved 'on their own'.


  January - Oh, sweet January. Amidst what was already a fun month of hanging out with friends and celebrating our favorite engaged couple, I woke up on Saturday the 21st and discovered the full goodness, grace, and sweet mercy of our Lord.
  David and I are going to have a baby! After only two months of continuous praying and listening, God granted us the most extraordinary gift we've ever gotten. I'm due on September 27th - 9 weeks along now! We have laughed, cried (tears of joy) and praised God with our family and friends for this miracle. One of my favorite phrases has become "But God". "But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us.."( - Ephesians 2:4) It has been so neat to go through this and see His hand in it all. We even had a friend who - not knowing what we were going through - randomly wrote me on facebook within about 48 hours of conception (sorry for TMI) and told me that she had dreamt that she and I were together and I was pregnant. Is that crazy or what?!


  So now, dear sweet friends, we covet your prayers for a healthy pregnancy and baby. So far everything looks great! Our little "bean" is growing well, I've been severely nauseated (couldn't eat for two solid weeks), and I'm trying to rest as much as possible. We've even chosen our midwife already! (Yes, we're hoping for a happy home birth.) Above all, though, we want a happy, healthy baby and desperately appreciate your prayers for us all. 
  Lastly, we thank you all for your sweet, precious words of congratulations, prayers, and for sharing in our excitement with us. Words truly cannot describe how excited and thankful we are for this gift. We love you all.


David, Emily and Baby "Bean"

"Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen."

Pass on "Hall Pass"

  A while back, David and I were invited to see a sneak preview of the upcoming movie Hall Pass (set to release  February 25th). We were wary but naively optimistic.
  The casting was hopeful enough: Owen Wilson, Jenna Fischer (The Office's "Pam"), Jason Sudeikis, and Christina Applegate. But the premise was slippery: A wife (Fischer), gets fed up with catching her husband looking at other women, and is encouraged and finally convinced to give her husband a "hall pass." For one week Wilson gets to live as though not married, while the wife and children go out of town. And then the icing on the precarious cake: Hall Pass is directed by the Farrelly Brothers - the guys who brought us Dumb & Dumber, Shallow Hal, There's Something About Mary and Stuck on You.
  Now, to be completely fair, this was a polled screening, so some of the content will change by the time Hall Pass actually hits theaters and it may not be quite as awful as our experience.
  That said, the film actually began very well. David and I, being Office fans, were particularly excited to see Jenna Fischer playing Wilson's wife. She is a very cute and slightly complex character whom we both enjoyed. Wilson's character is set up as her decent but sometimes-bumbling, hard-working husband and father of two kids. Their interaction was my favorite part of the movie. They are caring and work hard to maintain chemistry as both a married couple and parents. He's best friends with Jason Sudeikis' character, who is married to Applegate - who is, coincidentally, Fischer's best friend.
  Sudeikis was unfortunately and uncharacteristically very disappointing, playing an often lewd and scruple-free husband, taking every opportunity to dream about what could be with anything that walks by with breasts. Applegate's character is typical for her; self-absorbed, vapid and selfish. Their interactions are more often painful instead of what I think was an attempt at humor.
  All of that out of the way, the movie starts out well, but slow. When it starts to pick up, it begins its slide downhill - rapidly. Sudeikis repeatedly encourages Wilson to try to have sex with another woman while he is 'free' of marriage. There are several exchanges with a male barista that go from one hilarious, witty exchange to a no-holds-barred barrage of ludicrous violence at the end that was indescribably unnecessary. There was a gym scene with male genitalia that seems to have been thrown in just for the sake of the typical Farrelly Brother nudity - and was almost unbearably uncomfortable, and of course a scene with breasts that was (finally, thankfully) brief. Language, drug references, alcohol and sexuality ran rampant throughout - and maybe that's your kind of movie. David and I, however, found ourselves looking at each other, cringing, more often than watching the movie toward the end.
  Without trying to spoil the film for you, Hall Pass ends with resolution for one couple and disappointment for another. The overall tone of this movie is one of 'every man for himself'. This may be enjoyable for some, but as a married couple watching this it was completely uncomfortable and a very disappointing portrayal of marriage. I strongly recommend not wasting your time - and especially your money - on this bad excuse for a comedy. If you really want to see it, wait till it comes out on DVD (which I don't think will take long). This movie made David and I very leery of screenings for a while. I give Hall Pass 1.5 stars out of 5. 

No Strings Attached

  I walked into the theater two nights ago expecting to see a disappointing film, but determined to appreciate the free movie night. I was completely wrong on the first count.

  Director/Producer Ivan Reitman (the Ghostbusters movies, Kindergarten Cop, Stripes, Dave...) hits one out of the ballpark with No Strings Attached (Rated R for sexual content, language and some drug content, releasing January 21st). Natalie Portman and Ashton Kutcher play a completely endearing pair who have known each other since middle school; then they chance across one another in present day and end up having sex. Portman then decides that they should just be "friends with benefits", no cuddling, no expectations, no emotions, strictly physical. This is not a promising premise. David and I, however, found ourselves laughing throughout the entire movie and I even cried at the end. 

  Portman's character is written so well that, even though she is determined to be emotionless and consequently could come off as uncaring, is entirely lovable and quirky. Likewise, Kutcher (whom I personally don't often like in films) is charming, persistent, and just plain funny! You see his good heart from the beginning, and almost want to cheer him on at times. (There is one particular scene where I and many other audience members literally applauded his efforts.) Kevin Kline was also a surprising addition to the film, cast as Kutcher's father in a completely inappropriate and hilarious role. 

  No Strings Attached was so well written and executed that what should have been a cheap comedy with a horrible plot is a completely enjoyable film, whose characters are so relate-able and enjoyable that David and I found ourselves talking about them the rest of the night. There is quite a bit of sexual content and language - though amazingly no nudity! -, so I wasn't at first sure I wanted to recommend this film or how to review it. In writing, I've found it even more difficult to summarize it's redeeming points without spoiling the movie for you.  David and I decided, however, the more we discussed it that it that we think it comparable to Love Actually. It's probably not a film that you would want to see with your parents - and is definitely not appropriate for children or teenagers - but I think you, too, will find you love it quite in spite of itself. I would give No Strings Attached a 4 out of 5.