For a long time I felt like I needed to write the post that is coming. This is the post that explains they why in the who that is me. Over the past 6 months of blogging I have talked in snipits here and there about the events of the last 2.5 years, but never all in one post complete with background. For many people it probably makes no difference, but I know to some people it does and to at least one reader they are ready to hear my story. I also discovered recently that my husband also needed to hear this story, opening my eyes and giving me courage to put a voice behind the keyboard.

This story is not so much mine or Kenna’s, as it is the story of an unbelievable journey that I still cannot believe I embarked on. As referenced in my previous post, I have been doing some writing in the arena of loss. One piece that I wrote for a MOPS writing contest actually led to me sharing a part of this story in front of our (thankfully small) group two weeks ago. What follows is a culmination of my MOPS talk, my writing entries, and some background information that will be valuable for readers who don’t know me personally. So without further delay I give you far more information than you may want! (In installments since the little bit I am posting today took me an entire day to write and the story hasn’t even gotten started.)

Two and a half years ago, my husband and I were living in a small town in the middle of nowhere Minnesota, known only for their incredible caramel rolls. I was working in a very professional position with community recognition as an “expert” in my field of early childhood. To add to that, I was able to do this in a way that was flexible and compatible with raising my children they way I wanted. From birth, Caleb was able to come with me to work in a sling and learned to crawl on my office floor. No one even seemed to notice when I breastfed during staff meetings! My husband was also in a position he loved, teaching science to a broad age range. Our five-year-plan was very much on track!

In January of 2007, we found out we were expecting baby #3. The excitement was short lived, however, as I miscarried only a few days after finding out. We were disappointed, of course, but were confident that I would be able to get pregnant again soon. Another pregnancy was out of our minds quickly, however, when Caleb became very sick with pneumonia. After four visits to the emergency room or clinic in three days, we were finally admitted for oxygen therapy and extra antiobiotics. Over the course of one month we were seen in the emergency room 5 seperate times and hospitalized twice.

Just as things were starting to settle down we learned that I was expecting again. I actually remember finding out more vividly than with any of my other pregnancies because I could not believe it was true. It never occurred to me that it was even possible because I had spent so much time sleeping in a hospital bed with a 1yo over the previous month. After I fell asleep in the bath tub one night, Tim insisted that I check and low and behold. I laughed for a good solid 10 minutes…I thought it was a joke! Indeed my humor could not have been far off base because, after 2 early u/s to confirm dates, the baby was supposedly concieved on one of those said hospital bed nights.

My midwife still teases me about my immaculate conception….

PART 2