About the In-Laws...

It's been a rough summer around here. In May, my gentle and much loved mother-in-law passed away rather suddenly. She suffered a brain aneurysm and passed almost two weeks later. At the same time, both of my sisters' mothers-in-law were ill as well. One, thankfully, was very ill, but it was acute and she went home and is doing well. The other, sadly, passed away after years of illness that culminated faster than expected.

These events have had me reflecting all summer on the way we build families, how we live with one another, and the culture in America in general. We are not really supposed to get along with the in-laws. People make jokes about mothers-in-law all the time, running them down as interfering, or just plain mean. It is, arguably, rather difficult to get along with people you have inserted into your life because you happen to love one of their children. I was very, very blessed in this regard. My mother-in-law, Laquaita, was nothing but love and kindness to me, and especially to my daughter, Meg. Meg was treated as though she had been born to their family. For that, I have always been grateful.

Laquaita never made demands, was always so supportive and helpful, and never batted an eye when she found out we were having another baby. She rejoiced. I was always thankful that we could call her with the news of a new baby and know for a fact we would only hear joy. I know she prayed and worried for us, and shared my love for dressing the kids up. I loved getting my kids ready to go see her, as she made over them and fussed. She once told me that whenever there was a family event, she couldn't wait to see what I put on my girls because they always looked so cute. I loved hearing that, and made sure to dress them up because it gave her pleasure to see them looking smart.

Laquaita wanted her family to be harmonious and happy, but, as families are made up of humans with differing lifestyles and opinions, that was not always the case. She didn't try to intervene, but instead let everyone work things out for themselves, offering love in all directions. I personally think this must have taken a lot of strength, and a huge amount of tongue biting. She probably won a great spot in heaven for her restraint, a rare commodity in any family. I hope I am able to be as loving as she was when I become a mother-in-law.

As we have built our families from our original family unit, we have been blessed with wonderful people on all sides. The other grandmothers have passed on traditions, new vocabulary and recipes. Our lives have been enormously enriched by these people. My kids have adopted words like "brand clean, gummy chewies and grandma juice". They make the "I love you" sign when leaving and give giant, squeezey bear hugs. All things they learned from grandparents or their cousins' grandparents.

They have watched their grandparents and the grandparents-in-law persevere through health challenges with strength and love. They have seen their grandfathers grieve with dignity, while allowing the kids to see their pain and tears, revealing their great love for their wives.

We've been blessed by the people who have lived in our lives, both through birth as well as through marriage. I hope my children, nieces and nephews choose wisely when they marry, because you do marry the family when you marry the love. I chose wisely. We all chose wisely.

Weird...

Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day we lost the twins. It doesn't feel like it was a year ago already,  kind of expected my post partum depression to be twice as bad, because I was lost the twins in October, and was pregnant again by December. I am thankful that it really hasn't materialized yet. I have been weepy today, but that doesn't surprise me. I get weepy at the thought of those little boys, even a year out. It's just sort of a weird place to be. I am so, so thrilled that I have my Priscilla Grace, and and thankful for her healthy pregnancy and successful VBAC. At the same time, I think that if we had had our twins, I wouldn't even be pregnant with her. I wouldn't have her at all. Maybe not ever. I know God wasn't asking me to choose, and that I don't have to choose. I have my babies in heaven, and I have my sweet Priscilla Grace, here, in my arms.

We've never even gone to see where the boys are buried. I want to, but I kind of know that will bring on a firestorm. I just don't have the energy to deal with that. I love them, and I want to think of them as the sweet babies they are, at Christ's feet, listening to the angels sing. So, tomorrow, instead of going to the cemetary, I will take my baby over to church for a while, and buy some flowers to lay at Our Lady's feet. I'll pray that George and Gabriel are watching over us, and being our own little intercessors, and that they are happy that we have Priscilla Grace. I'll tell them how much I love them, and all our babies in heaven. We have six in heaven, what a crowd to welcome me when it is my turn. God knows perhaps, that I will need babies even in heaven.

Princess Priscilla Pants...

3 weeks

My sweet lil baby weighs 10 pounds, 2 ounces. Safe to say she is a good eater. She and I have spent the last 3.5 weeks nuzzling, eating, changing and eating some more. I always love having a new baby. It is hands down my favorite thing in the world. The smell of the sweet breath, the staring into your eyes, the way she listens and then turns towards my voice. All of it bioligically programmed to make me love her, and boy o boy does it work. My heart trips every time I hear her cry, every sound she makes. Even her diapers smell good to me - what is that? She is all warm and fuzzy and new. And I am loving every single second with her. Her dad is too, we kind of duke it out at night - who gets to sleep with her in the chair...she has a little bit of reflux and trying to lay her down just makes her spit up and spit up, poor baby. So we just hold her. It's a legit reason to just hold her every second, right? I am sure I will not regret never putting her down. Totally.


2.5 weeks...
 

Just a few minutes old here...

This time around, I knew it would be extra special, because I am so very thankful she made it. Losing the twins made me fearful, and losing Yeb's twin the pregnancy before, and the other losses, all started to make it seem like perhaps childbearing wasn't a good idea for me anymore. But, God knew better. He knew my heart needed this wee tiny girl. He was so, so right. And after 4 boys in a row, I was really, really ready for another girl. I am a little ashamed at the sheer glee I felt at hearing she would be a girl, and then when we saw her, all slimy and white, but definitely a girl, I was thrilled. She was so round and soft and beautiful.

I know I said I would write her birth story, and I will, but that should be a post of it's own. It's a little long, and I want to write it down when I have a little time to think. For some reason I have few real memories of the day. Just flashes and impressions for the most part, and some of it must have been in my head, because Douglas says some of the stuff that I remember didn't even happen. Nope, no drugs (until after, because I thought I heard the doc say something he didn't say). Just foggy memory.

In the meantime, I am sorry for the lack of posts - I am OLD, people. Pregnancy kicked my behind this time around. And Miss Priscilla Princess Pants likes to eat at night - as in, all night, so I am running on very little sleep. Not that that is an excuse for not posting. Maybe sleep deprived posts are better than no posts, but they should at least be coherent.

Before I go, though, I have to say that people never cease to amaze me. Here we are on Baby #10, and so many people brought meals, and gifts and sent cards. We feel so blessed. I have heard lots of moms say that people just don't bother after baby #2 or #3.  Our little Priscilla has been welcomed by so many, and we really appreciate all the love and welcome.