Blessed be the name of the Lord

"...the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord."

At my brother's funeral last April, we sang three congregational songs: "I Love to See the Temple," "Sing Praise to Him," and "Press Forward Saints."

"Sing Praise to Him" has much of the sentiments of Job 1:21. Job has just learned that all his sons and daughters have been killed in an accident. He rends his garments, shaves his head, and falls down to say, "...the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord."

Consider these lines from the 2nd verse: 

What his almighty pow’r hath made
His gracious mercy keepeth.

and

Within the kingdom of his might,
Lo! all is just and all is right.
To him all praise and glory!

Some of the brethren sitting on the stand were holding it together so well until we got to the part in verse three:

As with a mother’s tender hand,
He leads his own, his chosen band.

Something about seeing a grieving mother there at the front of the congregation and singing about a mother's tender hand was pehaps just too much. I think that was one of my Dad's favorite parts of the whole funeral.

But I digress. Back to Job. If God has made something, his mercy will keep it. All is just and all is right, even for Job who lost his health, his family, his worldly goods, etc. Why? Well, I'm not sure exactly why, but in part, it's because God is perfectly just and perfectly merciful. There are challenges we must pass through that are leading us to a greater glory. All that is unfair in this life will be made up, not least of all by molding us into who we are meant to become. This is why we can say, "blessed be the name of the Lord," and, "To him all praise and glory!"

My dad said people probably thought we were really weird for picking Press Forward Saints and Sing Praise to Him to sing at a funeral. More often people sing things like, "Oh My Father" and "Each Life That Touches Ours for Good." You know, songs about departed loved ones, and what it's like in heaven, and such. Instead, we sang, "Press forward," (ie. "move along.") and, "Alleluia!" "...rejoicing in his might," and "To him all praise and glory!"

When dad said this, he had a bit of a twinkle in his eye. I think that's because he understands Job, and why Job can say, "Blessed be the name of the Lord" at a time when it seems he has no reason to praise.

Plus, those Alleluias at the end of that final hymn? They felt so good to sing. I think Michael would have loved it.

Projects

I love fiber and textiles. So much so that I've at least dabbled in most of the common crafts and have a continuous rotation of deep dives into my favorites.

As of this typing, I have four knitting projects, three embroidery projects and one crochet project that I work on fairly regularly.

Volt shawl I'm currently knitting for my German Knit-Pal

I don't always finish the projects. But sometimes I'll go back to a project I dropped years ago and finally finish it. (or just close the drawer again and think "later... maybe later.")

Part of me really enjoys this, having lots of creative outlets to choose from at any given time. I love bouncing from one project to another. I'll get stuck, (boredom, frustration, lack of tools, etc.) and work on a different project that scratches an itch I have in another part of my brain. Then when I go back to the original project, it feels fresh and hopeful and good.

Part of me feels judgmental about this. Is it because I don't want to be seen as wasteful? I don't want to be seen as excessive or frivolous? I don't want to be seen as someone who can start but not finish a task? I don't want others to think I'm flighty or flakey? I think it's some mixture of all of these reasons.

There's a running theme amongst crafters of all varieties, and that is anxiety about stash build-up, mixed with jokes about how your significant other disapproves of the mess, or of a potential new purchase, or of a barely completed new purchase. It's like we have to justify our stash to the world or at least ourselves, and if we can't come up with a good reason, then at least we can laugh nervously and hope we're not the only one.

image credit

I don't know what the answer to this conundrum is. But I've got a few thoughts.

1) This life has a lot of beginnings and endings, but not a lot of completions. Especially perfect completions. When is it that you can check off the box to "Completed teaching my children. Forever. They're fully baked and are whole beings now"? Or "Completed learning. I've perfected all knowledge"? It sounds ridiculous, especially on that scale. But I kinda think it's ridiculous to expect entirely perfect completions of smaller scale things like my craft projects. We might think that a project will be conceived, begun, worked on, then finished, all like a nice little package, but creation doesn't usually work out like that for me. It's more complicated, less linear, more chaotic, less perfect. A little dabbling here, a long-haul effort there and some glorious learning along the way.

2) My fear about "others" judgement is, I think, more about fearing my own judgement. Which sounds kinda silly now that I've typed it out. Don't I like having lots of projects? (yes) Do I really want to change how I'm doing things? (no, at least not at this point in my life) So, where's the judgement that I've been fearing? Not sure, but I suspect it's the virtue of "trying to become," gone awry. I want to grow and become more excellent at everything (including being able to focus and work hard, and not be, well, flighty). But I've come to realize that I can either wait to act until perfection has been attained, or I can keep moving and trying out lots of things and making lots of mistakes (in planning the projects, in executing them, or in both) and growing through doing. And I have a sneaking suspicion that the latter version is the only one that actually leads to growth. The mistakes are sometimes painful and always uncomfortable, but I can't let myself get hung up on them, or hung up on the possibility of them. I'd never get anywhere.

So the moral of the story is, I think I like having a lot of projects. And I'm gonna try to be patient with myself when I feel anxious about having a lot of things I started but never finished. It's all part of the process. And if I keep moving forward with my eyes wide open, I think, in the end, I'll be glad I did.

Now please excuse me while I go back to the knitting project I just started a couple of hours ago...

Lucy's Birth

July 12, 2016

Think back to the early part of July 2016. That's when this miracle of a baby came into our home. Here's the story of how it happened (written when she was 9 days old. And reading it now I laugh because I can almost hear how sleep-deprived I was, I did a little editing for grammar and clarity, but mostly left my sleep-deprived voice stay the same):

At 38 weeks and 5 days I was still only dilated to a one. Despite the fact that I had way more contractions with this pregnancy than with my previous two, this baby was not going to make a very early entrance. 

So at my appointment, the doctor recommended we set a date for induction. Because of my gestational diabetes she thought it was a good idea, and frankly I was so tired of being pregnant I thought it was a fantastic idea. So we set the date for June 12th all the while hoping that she would come before then.  

On Monday July 11th, we packed clothes for the kids and for us and spent the night at Grandma and Grandpa's Machado. Then July 12th, Chris and I got up early and left the house at about 5:30 so we could get to the hospital for the 6 a.m. induction.  

The check-in process began smoothly, and a nurse named Melissa helped start my IV and various other things. Originally the doctor suggested starting with a vaginal medicine but Lucy's heart rate kept dropping and because of that and because I was contracting on my own, we decided to go straight to pitocin. A little bit after 7 a.m. Melissa finished her shift and transferred her job over to two nurses, Tiffany and Sarah.  

Throughout the whole pregnancy this girl's been a very active baby, and her birthday was no exception. We had issues with the monitors all morning. The nurses had to keep coming in and adjusting the monitors so they could pick up her heart rate. Finally at a little after 8am, we were able to start the pitocin (I really really really really don't like pitocin contractions. Really.) All the morning I'd been having contractions which was uncommon for me to have that many in the morning.  

After about an hour of pitocin contractions, I started thinking about getting an epidural. I asked the nurse for her suggestion and she said because it was my third baby they didn't need to wait to a certain dilation before giving me an epidural, so at about 9:50 I decided I wanted one. The contractions weren't so bad that I couldn't handle them but I could tell they were getting to that point. Tiffany also said that most women seemed to ask for an epidural at about 11 a.m. so if I was going to get one it would be a good idea to ask for one before that so I wouldn't end up at the back of the line as it were. The nurses called the anesthetist, and in less than an hour she had the epidural up and running. The nurses placed a big, orange peanut shaped exercise ball between my legs which was way more convenient than several pillows, and turned me to both sides for a time in order to let gravity help the medicine distribute evenly. By the time the epidural started working I was really having to work to manage the contractions. 

Sometime between 11 and 11:30 they checked me and I was at a 5 or 6. It was hard for them to know for sure because my water hadn't broken. The nurses figured since my water hadn't yet broken they'd call my doctor and have her come break it, and then they figured it would be very quick until the time the baby came.  

Both they and Christopher needed to get lunch, so before leaving the nurses asked a technician to get the birth equipment table ready and then Chris and the nurses went and got their separate lunches. Chris got back just before noon and he hadn't been in the room for four minutes when my water burst like an over-filled water balloon. I just been thinking that I hoped I'd be able to tell if my water broke when, boom! It popped. I pushed the call button right as Sarah was walking back into the room and she and Tiffany helped clean up the huge amount of water. I could still feel contractions pretty well, in fact the best of any of my three children so far. I could also tell there was a lot of pressure from that baby's head starting to head down the birth canal. Since the doctor hadn't arrived yet Sarah told me if I started to feel the need to push I should pant like a dog to get through the contractions to stop myself from pushing. 

Tiffany paged the doctor and I love how she tried to convey a sense of urgency but not emergency to the doctor. She told Dr. King that "she's fully dilated and effaced and is trying hard not to push." "Trying not to what?" I heard Dr. King ask. "Push," Tiffany replied calmly and firmly.  

Dr. King booked it over to my room and quickly got ready to help me push. I was glad that Sarah gave me the advice about panting because I needed it through two or three contractions, I needed to push so badly! 

But I was able to wait until Dr. King was ready. And the next contraction I started pushing and by the end her head was nearly out. Dr. King asked if I wanted to push in between contractions to which I said yes! And we got her head out the rest of the way. Her body soon followed and they placed my little Lucy on my belly so I could see my little girl for the first time. 

I cried so hard. It was just so sweet to hold her and see her face. The nurses wiped her off while the doctor stitched me up. And I just marveled at this little girl who in some ways I've known for months and in some ways I was meeting for the first time.  

Lucy weighed 7 pounds 1 ounce, and was 19 and three quarters inches long. She's smaller than either Nathaniel or Eva were. And she's already stolen my heart. Nathaniel and Eva are so sweet with her baby sister. They love to ask what she's doing, and they love to give her kisses. Eva loves to give her toys to Lucy and then quickly take them back so she can play with them again. So far at Lucy doesn't seem to mind. We have a beautiful family of 5. And now if I can just get some sleep, I might feel like a regular human again.

 So there you have it. Lucy Annalise Machado. Her middle name is a conglomeration of her grandmothers'. Chris's mom and grandma both have the middle name Anne, and my mom's name is Lisa. Lucy we just loved the sound and meaning of, and Machado, well. yeah. of course.

She's almost 7 months old now. We thought her brother and sister were mellow babies, but man. This girl takes the cake. There's a reason #MomIsMyFaveJob.

Christmas Day, 2016

Done any good?

A couple days ago, I took the kids shopping at the grocery store. At the checkout a twenty-something-year-old gal, who was standing behind me in line, asked if I'd like her to help me bag while the cashier was checking out our food. I readily accepted. It was such a small thing really, and yet it meant so much to me. She saw a woman about her own age, with two toddlers and a swelling belly, saw a way she might help, and simply offered. God bless that girl. She did good in the world that day. And I want to emulate her example.

(We filmed this my sophomore year of college. You can find me at about 1:00)

Speaking of which...

So you know how my last blog post I mentioned not being able to choose the time and place of your meltdown? 

Yeah. That happened today. 

During the closing song of sacrament meeting, I totally broke down crying, almost sobbing. And right afterwards I was supposed to go teach singing to the primary kids. And likely about half the ladies at church thought I was having a nervous breakdown. It seems kind of funny now, but in the moment it was kind of dramatic. 

I'm exceedingly grateful for all my friends who reached out in word and deed. A hug, tissues, an understanding smile, a word of encouragement. I'm surrounded by good friends and family.

P.S. Oh yeah, and I found out on Friday that I have gestational diabetes. Failed my 1-hr glucose test with flying colors. Nice.

Focus on what you can do

In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we are asked to serve and extended specific callings from our leaders. In October three new apostles were called by the prophet, Thomas S. Monson, to serve as special witnesses of Christ. Over the last couple months I have enjoyed repeatedly returning to listen to their messages. Each expressed in word and through their countenance a feeling of humility (almost a degree of shock in some cases). And then each bore powerful witnesses of Jesus Christ that have been sent to all the world. 

Elder Stevenson described his call and then shared this impression he received as he agonized over his inadequacies: "focus not on what I can’t do but rather on what I can do."

"focus not on what I can’t do but rather on what I can do."

When we receive a new call (and sometimes when we've had a calling for a while), it's easy to run over and over in our minds the things we can't do. We feel unqualified because we lack certain abilities. Our calling may take a lot of time and we miss the things we used to do during that time. Maybe we miss the close association we had with other members in our previous calling. Maybe we miss attending a meeting that we no longer go to. 

I've felt all of these things at one time or other. Tonight, as I listened again to Elder Stevenson's counsel, I feel a renewed desire to change my focus. Focus on what I can do. I think that's the way to greater happiness and faith.

Want to join me? 

As a Primary Music Leader:

• I can sing my favorite Primary songs
• I can teach small children and older children (and even adults too, though sometimes they don't realize they're being included in the lesson ;)
• I can see bright smiles on young faces as we sing and move and joyfully discuss gospel principles
• I can help set a tone that will invite the Holy Ghost to Primary
• I can get to know many families in our ward through their children
• I can be all of the children's teacher
• I can hear them as they call out "Hi! Sis. Machado!" each Sunday
• I can encourage other adults as they teach children
• I can seek the Holy Ghost to be my constant companion
• I can sing songs with the children that they will remember for the rest of their lives
• I can hone my teaching skills
• I can bear witness of Jesus Christ
• I can bear witness of Heavenly Father's love for us
• I can feel the Holy Ghost when we sing eternal truths (which comes so readily to the call of these small-bodied, spiritual giants)

End of the day

Two-year-old Nathaniel is really good at pushing my buttons. Which says a lot more about me than it does about him. I mean, I have a lot of buttons to find and push. Teaching him each day, you can tell that he really does want to obey and wants to always be good, but it's really hard when you're only two!

Yesterday, Nathan was particularly good at finding all my buttons and pushing. each. one. By bedtime, I was more than ready to clock out from my job of being a momma. Once the littles were in bed, I turned on a show and folded some laundry. It took me just under an hour, and since the kiddos had been quiet for some time, I figured I'd risk sneaking into their bedroom to put their clothes away. Eva was sound asleep, but little Nathaniel was just quietly laying in bed with his eyes open, staring at the Christmas lights we put up in their room.

I didn't say anything to him, just put the clothes away. But once I finished I went over and gave that sweet head a kiss and told him I loved him. He asked in his sleepy little voice if I could get his teddy for him. No way I can turn that kid down when he asks me in that tired way. I found his bear, and you should have seen the big, slow smile that spread all across his face when he saw teddy. He whispered, "Thank you for getting my teddy, Momma!" several times as I hugged and kissed him goodnight.

Closing their door, I felt like the luckiest momma in the world. The least I can do to show my thanks for these small charges is to try once again to take the less traveled road of patience. Especially when they find my buttons and push. every. one.

That's my boy.

Wonder Struck

I want to remember this phase. There is such beauty, it almost melts me.

I am a home-body. I love being at home. I could stay in the house all day for even a couple of days and not miss going out. And I get to spend my days with my two small children.

Nathan says the most hilarious things. Today he said brightly while riding in the car, "Oops. I left my ear. I will pick it up." He loves to joke and tease you. Especially saying things the way he knows they aren't just to hear my reaction. Nathan loves to read too. He laughed a full belly laugh the other day when we read a book about a cat looking for his purr who was startled by a cuckoo clock. He brings me a book every day and says, "Mommy, read it, Please!" in his sing-song way. And anything that goes (trains, big-rigs, dump trucks, planes, cars, motorcycles) just fascinate him. He is so sweet to his sister. They sometimes giggle and play through nap-time and I often can't bring myself to put a stop to it. Nathan sings and dances and remembers so much. His mind is like a sponge that soaks up everything it sees.

Eva is learning how to show she understands what's going on around her. She'll mimic back several animal sounds if you do it first. Her horsey sound is a slobbery raspberry, she softly hisses like a snake, and her lion growl is so much fiercer than her petite frame belies. Eva crawls quickly and walks around the furniture. She loves taking hold of a finger from each of my hands and walking around the house. Eva will also speed-crawl into the kitchen when you aren't looking and forage for any food she may have dropped during meal time. Sometimes I think she drops the food on purpose so she can snack on it later. Eva loves to give open mouthed kisses and has 8 full teeth with two molars on the way, so you better believe those kisses are wet! My favorite is when she'll sneaky-kiss my face as I help her say her prayers at night. My eyes are closed and of a sudden slobbery lips are touching mine. Eva says "Ma-Ma" and "Da-da" and has started saying "hi!" especially when she sees herself in a mirror.

I've lived in a dark hole of anxiety and depression for so long, but since moving here my days are overwhelmingly bright and full. My mind and emotions aren't yet whole, but there is such a difference to the degree of depression. I feel more resilient, more able to become who I want to become. My home is staying cleaner than it's been, I'm finding time to pursue creativity through stitching, sewing, quilting, knitting. I feel more like me. Sometimes I dance in the grocery store just because I'm feeling bubbly. I'm sillier with my kids and have the emotional resources to imagine games with Nathaniel.

I don't know how to describe all the beauty in my life right now and this list is far from comprehensive. And too, not all is easy and perfect and good. The children scream. The dishes still pile (not to mention the clean and dirty laundry). I falter often and still have raw, fragile emotional times. But the predominant feeling is one of grateful wonderment at what a season of life this is.

I know it won't last. Some financial or physical or spiritual or mental or familial hardship will come. It has to, or I wouldn't grow into who I'm meant to. But I wanted to record this tranquil oasis in my life. I want to look back on it when the seas are rough again and be able to treasure that feeling and trust that the calm will someday reappear. It is a bliss I hope we all will have a chance to taste.

Baby signing

About 2.5 months ago, I checked out a book on baby sign language for Eva. She was screaming all the time. As in, if you sat her down on the floor she'd let out a really loud scream and then play for a minute happily as if nothing had happened, and then scream again, and then play some more. She'd scream in the car if she felt she'd been in there too long, or if the light was red for longer than she wanted. It was really not our favorite phase. Ignoring the screams helped, and so did some other things we tried, but I just felt like my girl needed an extra way to communicate... especially in a way that wasn't so grating on our nerves!

So, with a little bit of knowledge and an eye towards the long term, I began teaching her to sign "more".

And today, after many weeks, she started signing it. I'm so excited! She's starting to grasp the concept! And it makes my heart so happy!

Take a look:

New Adventures

Back in January, Chris started looking for a full time teaching position. Last month, we finally found one! Quickly everything fell into place and we're now living in beautiful Boise, Idaho. We are near family and are making lots of new friends. Our ward has been particularly welcoming and we are loving it here.

Since it's been a few months since the last post, here's an overview of what we've been up to told in pictures.

March:

In March, we visited our friends the Smith's in the Bay Area

Nathan chasing after his friend, Jackson

Smiling with the view from the Oakland Temple behind us

Eva at the Oakland Temple

Chris and Nathan at Golden Gate Bridge

We also visited Chris's Great Aunt Kathy and
Great-Grandma while in California

Chris's Great-Grandma with Eva (So that's her Great-Great-Grandaughter)

There's a span of 5 generations in this photo

Aunt Kathy making Eva smile

Nathaniel turned two!

Bought a potted plant, Nathan liked watering it

April:

Aunt Abbie came and visited during her spring break

We went and stayed at my parent's house for General Conference/Easter

Easter Egg hunt in Grandma's basement

Grandma sword fighting with Nathan, she taught him to say "En garde!"
 which he pronounced, "On dard!"

Provo City outdoor event at Rock Canyon Park

Nathan got to ride a pony at the Provo City event

Eva's first time swimming

Chris's graduation!

I embroidered bacon and eggs on the inside panel of his robes

May:

Nathan and Grandma drinking chocolate milk

Eva playing with cousin Luke

Big smiles at Grandma Kimi's house

A new dress to match her big smile

Siblings. This picture melts my heart

June:

Our backyard! (well, at least one corner of it)

Our front porch--it wraps around!

Walking to the library (only a 20 minute walk)

Shopping with Grandma Kimi at Winco

Ward campout in Montour, ID

Daddy and the kiddos hanging out in the tent

Nathaniel is saying "cheese!"

Bathtime

Life is very sweet!

Joy of Motherhood

Ok. So it's been my experience that lots of people talk about how hard being a parent is. There are lots of well-meaning warnings about less sleep, long hours, challenges, emotional struggles, etc. And it's also been my experience that these things are certainly part of being a parent.

But it's not the only part.

I've talked to moms who seemed hesitant to describe the joyful things of parenthood and I myself have felt that reluctance. I think it's because I'm worried about making other moms feel bad if they aren't having a jolly good time. Most women are hard enough on themselves without anyone else's help thank you very much. But I just feel even more strongly that there's just not enough talk about the joy of parenthood. And to you, mother or father who isn't having fun and it's just feeling hard. That's. totally. ok.

And right here and now. I'm going to share some of the joy I get from being a mom.

• Sometimes I pick up Nathan from nursery at church. His whole face lights up and he runs over to me shouting, "Mommy!" This boy loves nursery, but he loves his mommy more.
• Eva smiles at me and Chris like we are the coolest things she's ever seen. Yesterday she giggled at me just because I looked at her.
• Nathaniel brings me books to read to him many times a day. He always laughs his "sheep/goat" laugh when he can tell I'm going to stop doing whatever it was I was doing and read to him.
• The other day I was clacking a toy together and Nathaniel did this darling little dance where he grabbed his hands in front of him, and he twisted his torso back and forth while bobbing up and down. "I'n danseen!" he said with a huge grin on his face.
• Eva talks to me and tells me everything. It comes out as grunts and snorts and coos, and she always looks so grateful that someone is listening and talking back.
• Sometimes Nathan falls down or gets hurt. He comes running over, looks at me with those big beautiful eyes and asks sadly, "a better?" Of course, I kiss it better. How could I not?
• Nathaniel wants to communicate. When I don't understand what he's saying, he keeps trying and sometimes will describe what he wants in a different way so I can understand. I'm amazed at his patience with me as I struggle to get it.
• Eva has this little vibrating rocking chair thing. Nathan likes to pile toys on her while she's sitting in it. More than once I've looked over to see her half covered by teddies, car-cars, and toy tools.

Everything worthwhile has its ups and downs. We keep at it though because we feel like we're doing something meaningful. Being a mom is the most meaningful thing I've done in my whole life. So you know? I think I'll just keep on doing it.

Melt my heart with cuteness

I was eating cookie dough today, and Nathaniel came over and said, "Cookies!" Of course I shared some with him (how can you not?).

A few minutes later, he comes running over to me with a buttered roll that Daddy gave him exclaiming, "Butter!!" and he held it up to my mouth for me to eat. 

My heart is melting with cuteness. My boy wanted to share something he loves with me. "Mommy" is totally my favorite job.

New Organ

My dad bought me a new gall bladder. See?

It's like a cuddly pillow!

I've been staying at my parents' with the two kiddos while Chris is back at home trying to survive his crazy week. He's got something like 10 concerts this week. Not to mention all the extra rehearsals and such that go with them. Keep him in your prayers, would you?

My recovery is going well. I've got some nice scars forming. They look pretty slick. And it's been a huge blessing to have help with the kids. Family is totally the best.

Eva's first Thanksgiving - Momma's first.... (pictures and a long story)

Yesterday was Eva's first Thanksgiving. She slept lots. See?

Daddy napping, too.

Me 'n the kids.

Eva met her Aunt Sydney for the first time yesterday. It was love at first sight (for both of them):

She's been smiling lots when she's awake. Here Eva's smiling at Grandpa:

We've been having a beautiful time here. And it was a lovely Thanksgiving.

Yesterday was also my first time ever at the ER (Yayy!!... or not really so yay ;). About 10:45-ish it started really hurting right below my rib cage. At first it was just uncomfortable, but in a matter of minutes it was really bad. I mean, right up there with being in labor kind of painful. I have never been in that much constant pain.

So Chris and Steve gave me a blessing and then Chris drove me to the ER just off of Eagle road. He sped to get me there, (even more than he sped to get me to the hospital when I was in labor with Eva or Nathan) and we checked in at the desk. I was trying not to hyperventilate but it was really hard to breathe normally with that pain and through the tears. After what seemed like forever (but was probably only a few minutes), we were taken back to a room and a nurse took my vitals, asked a few questions and said the doctor would be in soon (by the way, when the nurse asked me to rate my pain, I said nine).

A few minutes after the nurse left, the pain started to subside. Quite quickly actually. At that point I was thinking "well... I'm really glad that I'm not in hardly any pain now, but I'll feel really foolish if we came here and all it was was that the turkey and mashed potatoes didn't agree with me." Still, the doctor came in and decided we should do some blood work, a urine sample, and an ultrasound.

We did all three of those, and during the ultra sound, the technician seemed to identify the source of the problem, but since she's not the doctor, she didn't tell me what it was. She just asked if it hurt when she pushed a little on a specific organ and when I said yes, she nodded as if she knew what was going on.

After waiting around a while longer, the doctor came in and told me that I had gall stones in my gall bladder. She said her recommendation was that I be admitted to the hospital and they'd do surgery to remove my gall bladder some time during the day (it was probably about 1 am at that point). Thankfully, my mom had her gall bladder out a few years ago, so I was already a little bit familiar with the procedure.

Eventually we got moved upstairs to the surgical ward, I had awesome nurses who took such good care of me. And I even got to try out one of those hospital grade breastfeeding pumps. Whoa. That guy works fast. That's all I'm saying.

Chris stayed there the rest of the night and we both got a few hours sleep. At about 9:00 the next morning, the surgeon came to my room to explain the procedure and answer any questions. He said if all went well, I'd be able to go home sometime after lunch.

They wheeled me down to pre-op at a little after 10:00. The anesthesiologist came and explained a bit about the meds they'd be giving me and side effects and such. He was probably my favorite doctor there. We ended up chatting (he and Chris and I) about our kids and marriage and stuff for 5-10 minutes. It was really fun.

Soon after that, they gave me my meds, and I don't even remember falling asleep. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in the recovery room and was really drowsy (and a bit dizzy). They wheeled me to where I could finish recovering for a little bit (just enough to be able to go to the bathroom and walk a little without aid) and Chris joined me there. We left the hospital at about 1:30 pm, and the rest of today I've just been taking it easy at Chris's parents' house.

This adventure totally wasn't in my plans for the weekend, but in spite of that, here are a few of the things I'm grateful about in this experience:

• Chris and Steve were able to give me a blessing, and God's timing meant that it was after we went to the ER that the pain went away. If God had timed the pain to go away right after they gave me a blessing, we probably wouldn't have gone to the hospital, and my disfunctional gall bladder would probably still be in me.
• We were here at Kim and Steve's so I didn't have to worry about Nathaniel and Eva being well taken care of. I knew they'd be safe, happy and loved with Grandma and Grandpa (and Aunt Izzy, too!)
• I'm still on Medicaid. If this had happened a few weeks from now, I wouldn't be, and it would have been a very expensive trip to Boise!
• I didn't have a gall bladder attack until after I ate turkey and mashed potatoes and rolls and pie. And I didn't throw up. That might have ruined Thanksgiving food for me. 
• My parents are just a phone call away and offered to let me and the kiddos stay with them next week once Chris has to start school again on Monday.
• So many people were praying for me. I feel incredibly loved. Even some people I hardly know. (like Selby!) Thank you for thinking of me and caring!
• The staff and doctors at St. Luke's were phenomenal. Everyone was so competent in their duties, and even more, they were friendly and talkative and supportive. I felt treated like a real person, and it seemed like everyone truly cared about me getting better.

When you add all those things together, I'd say that's evidence of a God who cares about me, and loves me more than I can know. Wouldn't you?

Happy Thanksgiving!

Birth 2.0

The three or so weeks leading up to Eva's birth were quite the mental/emotional struggle for me. Each week I felt like the contractions were "going up a notch" and getting us closer to the real thing, but because of how Nathaniel's labor/delivery went, I didn't really have a clue how many "notches" I still needed to go before we were at the real thing.

Enter Saturday, October 18th.

I'd had some uncomfortable contractions during the night, but by morning they had stopped being regular. One of the songs Chris wrote was being premiered up in Salt Lake that evening, and so his Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Tine came down for the premier. They took us out to lunch, took us shopping, and then drove us up to the concert in Salt Lake. I'd been having sporadic contractions throughout the day, but I wasn't timing them, and they weren't increasing in intensity.

During the concert I started realizing that the contractions were coming at a fairly consistent rate. We went out to eat afterwards and during dinner, the contractions were starting to get kind of painful. I was having a harder and harder time concealing them from everyone else (As a side note, I'm not exactly sure why I felt like I needed to conceal them, maybe I just didn't want anyone to fuss over me or worry about me? Whatever the reason, I just wanted to keep them to myself).

On the ride home (about a 45 min drive) I began timing them. Sure enough they were consistently coming 3-5 minutes apart and they were getting harder and harder to deal with.

As soon as we got home, I told Chris that I thought this was the real thing. I was fairly certain our little girl was on the way. So... now we had to figure out what to do with Nathaniel while we went to the hospital. A good friend told me we could bring him over to her house, but I couldn't get a hold of her. I tried calling my mother to let her know and see if she could start making the two-hour trek down to our house, but no one at home answered the phone (and no answer on any cell phones either).

Finally I tried my brother and asked if he could maybe just hang out on our couch until we got a hold of someone who could take his place (he had a one-month-old baby at the time and also worked early morning custodial). He answered his phone and was able to come over.

During all this, the contractions were getting hard. I was sitting on our exercise ball trying to do anything that felt like it helped me cope with the pain of each contraction. I also began singing during them. Each made-up song went something like ,"Oh maaaan, this is reeeeeaaally uncomfortable right nooow! I really really wiiiish that this contraction would end! I really really hope that this is the reeeeall thing because if it's not, then I don't want to know what the reaaaaal thing feeeeeeels like!! etc. etc. etc."

Hey, you do what you gotta do, right?

Once Stephen was on his way, I had the idea to try calling my aunt who lives kiddy-corner from my parents to just see if she knew where they might be, or if they were home. She answered and said she'd go over and knock on their door to let my mom know I was in labor.

Stephen arrived, I grabbed my hospital bag, and Chris and I drove over to the hospital. On the way over there (about a 5 min drive) my mom called. Yay! She sounded super apologetic. She said that they'd all been watching The Two Towers downstairs in the basement and didn't hear the phone ring. They were at the battle of Helm's Deep and it was really intense when they finally heard pounding on the door from my aunt.

Very appropriate I thought, that while my family was watching the orcs' chant of war, I was facing my own intense battle and chanting/singing to get through it.

We filled my mom in on what was happening and said we'd call her as soon as we knew for sure that I was staying at the hospital.

We checked in at a little after 10:00pm and were shown to a room. The nurses came in a little while later and checked me. Melanie, who did the checking said, "Oh, yeah you are totally having this baby. You are at like a seven!" Whhhaaa? a seven!? I had nooo idea that's what a seven felt like! I felt kind of proud of myself, but the first thing I asked was, "Is that too late for an epidural?" "Nope," Melanie replied, "but we gotta step on it".

Quickly the nurses got the anesthesiologist who gave me a very big dose of epidural stuff. I don't know how far along I was by the time it took effect, but I think I was further than a seven by that point (my contraction-coping songs and noises were getting stranger and stranger by that point, but thankfully no one commented :). They also called my doctor, and did all the other things like hooking up monitors, asking me questions about my health, etc.

My water broke a little while after the epidural really started kicking in, and I could feel as our little girl descended the rest of the way down into pushing position.

By midnight, we were at pushing time. My doctor had arrived a couple of minutes earlier and we started pushing. I was asked if I wanted a mirror to which I tried to politely but firmly say "no." My doctor, the two nurses and Chris all cheered me on with every push. Once she started crowning, my doctor exclaimed, "She has so much hair!" (woohoo! I thought. I'd certainly had enough heartburn for her to have a lot of hair.) She really was ready to come by then. Nathan took over two hours of pushing before he came out. With our little girl, I pushed for about 20 minutes. She emerged all beautiful and blue and squirmy and as soon as she was cleaned off and weighed and stuff, I got to hold her and nurse her.

Our Eva Magdalena Machado was born at 12:21am, October 19, 2014. She was 20 inches long and weighed 8lbs 8oz.

Eva and I spent the normal two-days in the hospital and have both recovered well. She's even more mellow than her older brother, and I thought he was an easy newborn. Nathaniel loves his little sister and calls her, "Uh-va."

We're happily adjusting to life as a family of four. There are some challenging times, but there are also lots of beautiful moments each day.