Gretchen Caroline

Well, she made it, and so did her mother!  Gretchen Caroline Stringham was born at 10:38 on Saturday, November 5, 2011, weighing in at a whopping 8 lbs. 14 oz. and was 20.5 inches long.  I was already dilated to a six when Dr. Boheen came in to break my water at 7:30 that morning.  The anesthesiologist came in pretty much immediately and inserted my epidural, but I have to say I was totally disappointed in it.  I don't know if I just wasn't dosing myself enough or if he used a different kind of medication, but the whole point of the epidural is to have a painless delivery, and I'm pretty sure I felt the majority of my contractions.  Not exactly how I wanted it to go, but at least it was pretty quick so I didn't have to suffer for too long.

After she was born, Mike and I decided against naming her Zoey.  It just didn't seem to fit.  Gretchen is a name that we had on our previous girl name list, and our favorite out of the bunch.  Kinda funny, but when we looked up the meaning of her name, this is what we found:

Gretchen is a German pet form of Margaret(h)e created from 'Gret' plus the diminutive suffix '-chen'. The German Gretchen is thus roughly equivalent to the English Maggie, both meaning 'pearl.'

Isn't that amusing?  Maggie couldn't be more proud.  As for the name Caroline, it comes from Mike's great-grandma Caroline Watterson (Dorothy's mother), and another one of his great-grandmothers, Caroline Behan (Barb's grandmother on her father's side).  We found out after giving the news to Dorothy that Caroline's birthday was the 7th.  Would've been neat to have her on the 7th, but let's be honest....I would've poked myself in the eye having to be pregnant for 2 more days.

Barb spent a few days here helping out with the housework and the kids.  It was so nice not to have to worry about any of it, especially since I've been having a harder time recovering this go-round.  And, really, who wouldn't want to wake up to fresh baked bread and hot cocoa with marshmallows every morning?

Gretchen is a little beauty.  I'm pretty sure I fell in love with her right from the start.  I've had to resort to pumping milk for a few days while I recover from her ravaging me, though.  Boy does this girl have an appetite!  One I wish she could suppress in the wee hours of the night, but we're getting better. (fingers crossed)

Yep, this little girl definitely belongs in our family, and I'm so glad our caboose is finally here and that I never have to do it again.

Still Here.

Yep.  Dilated to a 4, 60% effaced and all I get are irregular, painful contractions that are clearly not doing their work.  Maybe I should fire them.
We actually thought we might be ready to go on Friday night.  We got back from Trunk-or-Treat and I started having contractions every 5 minutes for over an hour, so we decided not to chance it.  I called my angel friend, Jen, and she dropped her movie plans and came over to sit with the kids.  On the way to the hospital, we got pulled over in Riverdale, due to the passenger side headlight being out.  I rarely drive anywhere at night, so I hadn't bothered to get it replaced.  Ha!  When Mike explained that we were on our way to the hospital, the officer quickly handed back his license and registration and said, "Well, we won't keep you here--you best be on your way!"  We laughed as he followed us all the way to the hospital.
Once there, my contractions stopped. I think I only had two while actually hooked up to the machine.  Grrrr.  They monitored me for about an hour & a half, but nothing was changing so they sent us home.  Bummer.  On the way back, we got pulled over in Riverdale again, this time for a brake light that was out.  {I love my suburban.}  Needless to say, Mike spent part of Saturday changing out a headlight and a brakelight.  Now when those dumb contractions finally get their act together we can make it to and from the hospital without incident.
Had my final appointment with Dr. Boheen this morning, and I'm still at a 4.  If I make it until Saturday, we'll induce at 7 am.  It's a weird situation to be in because I've never been this far along without being hooked up to an i.v. with an epidural already in my back.  It's completely reasonable (and therefore completely terrifying) that I'll start labor and have a baby in 5 minutes. (I really hope to not emulate you, Ashlee!)  It's also reasonable that my body isn't quite sure how to do this since every other time, it's been helped along by pitocin.  I may need help getting past this 4 and that's why things aren't progressing at all.

It's a control freak's nightmare.

So I'll keep you posted as to when this little one arrives.  Until then, I'll keep trying to figure out what her name will be.  Another thing we've usually already figured out by now.

The Big Picture

Ever since Mike was made the Bishop of our ward, he's had unexpected conversations with all sorts of people.  It's as if by virtue of his calling, people feel they can speak with him candidly about anything and everything. He's still trying to get used to the strangeness of it all.

A couple of weeks ago, he had one such conversation with a mortuary co-worker.  On a middle of the night removal, he confided in Mike that his wife was leaving him.  She told him she had fallen out of love with him six years ago.  He was beyond devastated.  He wasn't sure how he could afford all of the expenses that come with a divorce, nor was he sure he'd even be able to see his children much with his crazy mortuary work schedule.  Not to mention, he was still in love with his wife, who wanted nothing more to do with him.  Mike didn't know what to do or to say to him, just tried his best to console him.

Mike got a call today from a friend at the mortuary saying they'd found him today, having committed suicide sometime in the early morning.  Mike called me, sick to his stomach and said that he had a feeling this was going to happen after their conversation that night, but he just didn't know what to do about it.

I didn't know him well, but I admit, I've sat here with tears rolling down my cheeks for this poor man who truly felt as though he had nothing left to live for.  I've felt the pull of suicide only once in my life. (I was already somewhat depressed, and when I got on birth control for the first time, it whacked me out!  I never actually considered suicide, but the thought of it (while on that medication) sat just fine with me, and I immediately knew I had to get off the pill or something bad could happen.)  That was enough to scare the bajeebers out of me, and since that time, no matter how depressed I get, I never sink that deep.

Lately, we've been more stressed out than ever.  Not knowing if or when work will come, not knowing if Mike will be able to find full-time work, not knowing what direction to look in (let alone go in), plus the imminent arrival of baby #6, a wife that doesn't have the energy nor the gumption to take care of menial household duties (you should see my kitchen.....), and a whole slew of people who are coming out of the woodwork, demanding the Bishop's time, compassion, help, and advice.  (I'm completely overwhelmed, and I'm a secondary figure in this whole scheme!)

Then came the news of Jay's suicide.  I've tried and tried to reflect upon all the positive things we have going for us, but they were too few, too far between--until now.  It's possible that if something doesn't pan out soon, we'll have to go through some painful legal channels, including losing Mike's business to a bankruptcy.  It's not a road we want to take, so we're doing everything we can to avoid that, however, even if we are forced to go that route, the things that really matter will not change.  Whether or not Mike has full-time work, we have a stable, part-time job that includes a roof over our heads, electricity in the walls, and heat in the air.  We have a home to come home to.  We have food on our table, though sometimes, it's pancakes or cold cereal for dinner.  We have a  happy, loving marriage.  We have healthy, happy, smart, amazing, faith-filled children who fill us with more joy than they can know, and they have parents who are doing their best to love them and teach them and help them to become whom they are meant to become.  In the grand scheme of things, we really do have it all, and I'm so thankful for it.  I just need to remember it more often.

So far, so.....the same.

Feeling kinda bummed today.  Mike's interview got postponed until Wed., (which means more waiting) and we got 2 more rejection letters via email, including the job that we weren't really expecting to get, but were really hoping for anyway.  That plus pregnancy hormones makes me all sorts of negative and I HATE feeling this way.

Just this weekend I was visiting with a good friend of mine who was sharing some great news with me about the launch of her new business and a new home they're purchasing.  Within a week and a half everything just fell into place for them when they weren't even looking for it.  I'm over the moon happy for their family, but I can't help but wonder, what am I doing wrong?  Am I trying too hard?  I spend at least a couple of hours every day searching for jobs for Mike and the few that we've found, we've gotten rejection letters from. (Except for the one he's interviewing with on Wed.) I feel like I'm spending a LOT of energy just spinning my wheels and it's beyond frustrating for me.

I'm hoping that giving birth will finally give my mind and my emotions a break so I can see a little more clearly.  Until then, (THREE MORE WEEKS! For those of you who are keeping tabs...) I'll continue the search, and try to keep my stress levels in check.  It's been a helluva last couple of months.

I can't think of a clever title.

I've hit a wall.  Six weeks to go and I feel like I've been hit by a truck.  After all my abounding energy despite this pregnancy, I guess it was bound to happen sometime.  I just wish it could've lasted a bit longer....I still have a lot to do!  I just barely survived finishing the baby's quilt yesterday, and got NOTHING else done because of it.  I really shouldn't complain.  This final pregnancy has been surprisingly my best and I'm so grateful for that.  It just stinks because now I'm back to feeling like I did  throughout every other pregnancy--BLECH!  I was told today that I look like I'm going to pop, which is kind of a compliment, considering I usually look pretty squishy all the way up until delivery, thanks to all my extra food storage. ;)

I go in tomorrow for substitute training at the kids' school.  Clearly, I didn't anticipate feeling crappy again, or I may have postponed my subbing until after the baby is born.  Oh well.  Nice thing about subbing is that I can always say no, right?  We decided this would be a great way to bring in some much needed income when Mike's work is slow, like it has been lately.  We've looked and looked for decent jobs for him, but the construction world is not the same as it was when he graduated 6 years ago, and we've been mulling over the idea of a new career path for him.  He's been fasting all day for some direction, so we're praying a pathway somewhere opens up, whether it's a new job or a new career.  I don't mind helping out in the meantime.  I've toyed with the idea of getting my teaching certificate anyway.  I just wish my contribution could come when I didn't have a newborn to feed and snuggle at home.  That part makes me really sad.  Yes, she and Dixon will be home with Daddy and not a sitter, but....well.....you know what I mean.

So, thank you, Maggie, for making dinner tonight while I laid in bed feeling like I didn't want to get out until sometime after Christmas.  I have a feeling it won't be an everyday occurrence. Bummer.

Live Within Your Means

I had a thought come to my mind last night as I was mapping out in my head my game plan for this week's purging.  I realized there's an entirely different meaning to the phrase, "live within your means."  I'd always associated that with finances, and the oft-times resulting debt that comes from not doing so, but as I contemplated my tiny little house and its overflowing contents, I understood that in a much broader sense.

The Lord, I've discovered, has given us all different sorts of "means."  For example, our income is the "means" by which we acquire physical necessities and wants in this life.  Our bodies are the "means" which house our spirits.  Our time is the "means" we've been given to accomplish our tasks within a 24 hour period. etc....  I could go on and on, but I think we get the picture.

Problems (of our own making) come into play when through any aspect of our lives, we find ourselves living either below or above the means we've either been given or created for ourselves.  It seems that Lord is actually quite lenient in this regard because we have a bit of a buffer with much of our means.  My weight could easily be as normal and healthy at 120 as is could be at 140.  I don't pretend to know everything there is to know about health and nutrition, but I do know that I'm clearly living beyond my means in this regard. (We'll let little "Zoey" get here before I do much work in that department, though...)  I also know of those who have struggled with living below their means with regard to a healthy body and I tell you it's just as difficult at that end of the spectrum as it is at the other.

Another "means" that I've been neglecting to consider is our home.  Ever since I went on my purging binge, I've felt, happier, lighter, and in more control than I probably ever have.  I believe it's because we've been living beyond our means--in this case, the capacity of our home.  For a long time, I've been complaining about not having enough room here in the little beige house.  We literally have no storage and we seem to be accumulating more and more things that require the use of space that's already sparse.  My prayers have been along the lines of, "Please help Mike get the work he needs so that we can afford to move out of this little house and into a place that fits us."  After my epiphany, that has changed. By taking control of what I bring into my home, I have just begun to really live within my means.  It's a fabulous feeling.  One that I desperately want to address in other aspects of my life as well.  I already mentioned getting my body healthy, but I also need to work on living within my time means.  I'm reminded of Elder Oaks' poignant talk on "Good, Better, Best"  which was really a talk on budgeting our time, or living within our time means.  It's fascinating to me to look at all the "issues" we (I) have in life and truly be able to trace it back to simply a problem with living within our means.

Now that I have effectively tackled living beyond our means in this home, (at 7 months pregnant, I might add!!)  I feel completely enabled to address the other things in my life that I'm living both beneath and beyond in.  For heaven's sake, I just got rid of close to 50% of my household goods--that's 7 trips to the DI in a FULL suburban and countless sacks of garbage (that are still cluttering the back door area, since our cans aren't big enough to fit them all--yikes).  If I can do this, then it just proves to me that I really CAN do anything, and I'm excited to start proving that over and over again, with each issue I begin to tackle from here on out.  So, here's to living within our means--all of them!!!!