Yes, I've disappeared, and I did want to pop by and let all of you know that I'm OK, Lily is OK.  In the last 2 months, I've simply become overcome with work, and something had to go.  I have missed writing, and so much has happened that I want to share.  I'll be done with this craziness after November and I hope to begin posting regularly again!

I do post to facebook, even when I'm not posting to the blog, so come over and like my page!

As we inch closer and closer to Thanksgiving, I wanted to share with you what my 5 year "L" did for his homework last night.  We had to talk about what it means to be thankful, and then we were supposed to decide together what our family was MOST thankful for.  A pretty big task for a 5 year old.  Anyways... I asked him what he thought our family should be most thankful for, and he came up with this completely on his own.

This boy makes my heart melt with his love and empathy for others.



Many blessing for Thanksgiving to all of you.  I pray for you that the God that has blessed my family so immensely has also blessed yours, and you take time to reflect on everything you have!

Today was my "baby" boy's first day of Kindergarten!

It is unbelievable to me that 5 years ago tomorrow (September 5, 2007), after 27 days in the NICU we finally brought him home for the first time from the hospital!  He was a mere 4 lbs 5 oz the day he was discharged.  I can see it all in my mind still when I close my eyes!



"L" - 1 day old - 3 lbs 4 oz

In the first 5 years of his life, there have been so many firsts.  And today was yet another first, and another reminder to his mama that time passes so quickly when we aren't really paying attention.

"L" - 9/4/12 First day of Kindergarten

Dear "L",

It seems like it was just yesterday that you came into this world tiny as can be.  Thanks for almost giving both mommy and daddy a heart attack.  You were so tiny, I had never seen, let alone held a baby that tiny before. 
You spent 27 days in the NICU before you came home.  It sure thrust me and your dad into parts of being a parent we were not prepared for.  There were some dark days during that time. 

"L" 1 day old

I will admit, I spent a lot of your first year worrying about your eating and weight gain.  But despite all of that you were suddenly 1 - and just about as cute and healthy as could be.  I couldn't believe how fast it happened!


1 year old

2 years old

3 years old

4 years old

And now you love Phineas and Ferb, Cherryberry frozen yogurt, playing outside - especially in the hose, being my garden buddy, eating samples at Costco, and any and all music.  You love figuring out how things work, and you are getting really good at putting together Lego sets!

I know this past year and a half has NOT been easy for you.  Not only did you becoming an amazing and loving big brother, but you walked along with your dad and I through some really difficult times in the process.  I know sometimes your sister gets a lot of attention.  You seem to hate it whenever she has therapy or doctor appointments, while you have to go to daycare.

But despite all of that you show nothing but love for your sister.  When she had her ear tubes placed you were so concerned for her.  You go around proclaiming to everyone has your "Lily bear" is the sweetest cutest baby in the world (your own words).  And "L" it warms my heart. 

Mommy is so happy you came first.  In ways you cannot now understand you changed my world, but also prepared me for motherhood the second time around.  And I'm so glad that your "Lily bear" has you as her big brother.  I know no matter what you will unconditionally love her, you will protect her.  She is the luckiest girl in the world to have you.

In just a few weeks you'll start Kindergarten.  How is this possible?  I know I'll cry, but at the same time I can't wait to watch as your life unfolds.  I know God has amazing plans for you little boy.

You've come SO far from those NICU days, in fact, they seem like they never even happened.
Happy birthday buddy!

Last week at my weigh in I lost another 2.6 pounds.  That’s 5.6 pounds in 2 weeks!  Finally things seem to be looking up for me:  I’m sleeping… with the aid of pharmaceuticals but at this point I don’t care, I’m losing weight, and I’m as happy as I’ve been in about a year!  Seriously, I have been feeling so happy and blessed lately that it is shocking.

It took a long ways to get to this point right now, and now that I’ve arrived, I feel like I can tackle the last 22 pounds of my “baby weight” and get back to goal.

Even though I’m not back at goal weight yet, I have to tell you about a huge moment that happened for me over the weekend.  My mom and sister were visiting, and my whole family went to the arboretum for a day, we walked around some of the gardens, had a picnic, checked out the learning center, and did a hedge maze!  “L” loved it!  I got to thinking that some of the things I did there I would have never done 100 pounds ago.  I would have never walked around like that, and most of all I would have sat in a chair while my husband did “stuff” with my son, either because I was tired, or just too plain embarrassed to “actively” be his mom.

We planted beet seeds in 4 different soils, explored worms, and had a dirt rolling contest!  Then he did a scavenger hunt, and had to come back and bring me along so that I could see the cool plant that curled up when you touched it.

I'm going to share something that is hard for me, but I'm ready to share it, and I think sharing it will help me work on it even more.

I'm a comparer.

According to Merriam-Webster compare is:
"to examine the character or qualities of especially in order to discover resemblances or differences.  
"to view in relation to"

comparer is a noun made of this verb.  I checked, because initally I thought I might have actually made the word up.  It would describe a person that does the above.

I am a comparer.
I compare myself to those that are thinner... and those that are fatter.
I compare the speed of my weight loss to before Lily and after Lily.
I compare my "fat pants" to my size 8s.
I compare what I eat now vs. what I used to eat.
I compare the size of my butt to the person walking in front of me.

and I also...
compare the height of my son to those he stands next to in his spring program.
compare his mood one day to the next.
compare the amount he eats to other kids his age.

and then...
I compare Lily's size to other 6 month olds.
I compare the volume of what Lily eats to other 6 month olds.
I compare every single thing that Lily does or does not do... gag, grab toys, make sounds, sit, roll over, length of naps... the list goes on and on to other 6 month olds.
And... I compare her to other girls that don't have Turner Syndrome.
And sometimes, it leaves me feeling sad, empty, and worried.

In fact when I compare about any of the above categories I feel this way.  I feel like I'm not losing weight fast enough - even though in 13 weeks I've lost 15.5 pounds.  I feel like I'll never get back into my skinny pants.  I feel like my son will never eat enough, and yet is much taller than 1 person, and much shorter than another.

I'm a compulsive comparer, and you know what it buys me... nothing!  Nothing but worry and heartache, and often a lot of jealousy (sad but true).

I have to stop.  It never makes me happy.  My kids will always be on the low end of size, and my weight loss appears that it will always be slow and steady.  And no matter how many hours of the day these thoughts take... the thoughts will not change anything.

It is what it is.
And so... I am working on not comparing and not caring about that type of thing.

There once was a little baby.  He was 3 pounds, 4 oz and 16 inches long.  I thought he would never ever get bigger... but you know what?  He did!

"L" All grown up!

And there was once a tiny princess.   She weighed 10 lbs 12 oz for 2 months and her weight never seem to increase, even by 1 ounce.  And her mommy worried and shed many hours of agonizing tears over it, but you know what?  Those tears didn't change anything... and she was happy and loved, so in the end her small size didn't really matter.

My tiny princess!

And then her mommy found out that the tiny little princess for 6 months old was meeting all of her developmental milestones, and the mommy declared the tiny little princess a tiny genius... and for one day, she felt better... until she started the comparison game again.  See... slippery slope, that really in the end means nothing!

Comparison of ourselves or our kids to others... it buys us nothing.  And so, I'm stopping it.  Every time I catch myself doing it... thinking it, I will remind myself that it won't matter... in 5 years, whether my child was 10 lbs 12 oz at 6 months or 20 lbs at 6 months.  Whether she sat by herself at 6 months or 9, 10 , or even 12 months... it just won't matter.  Time is fleeting, so instead of comparing, I will remind myself to sit back and enjoy her just the way she is - at just the size she is.  To enjoy this precious, amazing time and stop the comparing, stop the worrying.

My son has a nightly preschool devotion that we read, and this was last night's:
"You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother's womb.  Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!      Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it"  Psalm 139:13-14 NLT

You know God loves you.  But did you know he loved you even before you were born?  God's the one who made you and put you together inside your mom.  God's the one who decided what color your eyes should be and how long your nose should be.  God made you very carefully so you'd be just right.  And you are!"

OK, that's pretty profound for a preschooler's devotional.  And boy... it spoke to my heart. 

Regardless of how much I compare, God made Lily very carefully so she'd be just right... and SHE IS!!!!!  She is right for her, and not compared to anyone else on earth!

And so... I'm working on giving up my comparer status.  Praying that it is removed from me, and I can come to accept things as is, the way that they are, because they are just right.

No Menu Monday today... sorry!  We are just surviving over here.  Its all we can do right now.  There is nothing exciting on our menu anyways.

Where to even begin... Last week "L" was home for all but Friday from daycare with a high, high fever. 

Thursday my weigh in revealed a loss of .2 (just that's a point in front) of a pound.

Then on Friday, Lily had her 6 month endocrinologist appointment.  I had been hoping and praying all week that she would finally be at 11 pounds.  Nope... she was only 2 oz bigger than a week prior - 10 lbs 12 oz.  I'm going to tear my hair out over this child not growing.

The doctor is definitely concerned about her lack of growth, even for a Turner Syndrome girl.  She was also concerned with her reaction to rice cereal, and so we've been referred to a pediatric gastroenterologist, to see if we can figure out how to make my girl gain weight.  This is so ironic to me in so many ways!

After the doctor on Friday, we decided to stop by Smashburger for dinner.  I had points to spare and ordered the grilled chicken.  I barely made it in the door of my house and I knew I was going to be sick - throw up sick.  I spent the next 24 hours laid flat by the stomach flu. 

Just mere hours after the plague laid me flat, it took out my husband.  Now think about it.  2 kids, under 5, alone with 2 parents that can't even get out of bed with the stomach flu.  Not a good scene!  I put the 4 year old in charge... uh yeah, not even kidding.  I was half way through feeding Lily a bottle, and I had him take over.  He did a good job.

We survived to see the much too early light of day (given the time change) on Sunday morning.  I was able to clean myself up and head out for supplies.  As the day went on things did get better and better.  Today I just feel run down, and still iffy about whether food is my friend or not.

Hopefully we can make it through a week without anyone in this house being sick - which would be a first in over a month.  Crossing my fingers and toes!

Needless to say, I think my obsession with Smashburger is officially over!

My friend Deanna (who by the way a huge thanks goes to for helping me promote Turner Syndrome Awareness month) always posts hilarious pictures of her 2 little ones.  Her baby boy, Carter, was born around the same time as Lily and she had an almost 2 year old, "Chubbs" who just happens to sport an extra chromosome.  Chubbs had a cystic hygroma prenatally, just like Ms. Lily did.  That's how Deanna and I were "introduced".  Anyways, together those two equal hilarity.

Whenever I see her pictures I think... oh my children would NEVER act that way.  They are much too sweet, kind, well-behaved, docile

Chubbs and Carter, this is for you

... bright pink hat!  And I quote:  "I didn't knock her over... I was just playing with her, because she likes to be knocked over"

I'm so glad Ms. Lily has her big brother to "help" her as she grows up.

Today is National Prematurity Awareness Day.
The Empire State Building is lit in purple tonight in honor of it.

Just over 4 years ago, I knew nothing about premature birth.  The thought of it never even crossed my mind.  I didn't realize it could happen to me, and then on August 9th, 2007 I became suddenly and unexpectedly aware of premature birth, when my own little preemie entered the world at 3 pounds 4 oz and 16.5 inches long.  He was born too early, because I developed HELLP syndrome - a very severe form of preeclampsia.  The only way to save me and him was for him to enter the world... early!

27 hard, and yet precious days in the NICU followed.  I can honestly say that I still remember two of the nurses there distinctly - Debbie and Amy.  I will never be able to express to them how much they did for our family during those 27 days. 

I remember the day we brought him home.  I remember being terrified that this preemie was now living in my home with me.  We had a year of RSV shots, avoiding other people, and being scared at every little symptom.

I still walk into a hospital and can smell that distinct, antiseptic soap smell.  It's all it takes for the memories of isolettes and NG tubes to come racing back.

Today... thanks to modern medicine my preemie is a 36 pound, 4 year old.  He is in the 50th percentile for weight, and the 70th for height.  He wasn't even on the charts until he was 2.  He is smart, and fun, and social.  He loves computers, scrambled eggs, and music.  He can be sassy and sweet within the same 10 minutes, and sometimes he stands in the middle of my living room and poops his pants on purpose... I'd say he is a normal 4 year old boy... wouldn't you?  He bounced back from his early start... and then some!

Baby "L" saved me from a life of obesity.  It is because of my preemie that I decided I finally had to do something about my weight.  It makes me almost teary-eyed when he now shows pride that I'm his mommy.

"L" 1 day old

"L" 1 year old

"L" - 2 years old

"L" - 3 years old

"L" - 4 years old

Don't be a fool like me and think it can't happen to you.  1 in 8 babies are born too soon.  Prematurity is the number one killer of newborns!  I support the March of Dimes, as they try to lower these statistics.

Yes... you all know that Lily is a miracle, but my first born is also a miracle!  And he was even tinier than she was!  I am the luckiest mom in the world to be the mother of 2 miracles! 

Of  course with two cuties, I would be in trouble if I didn't post a picture of them from  Halloween.

Despite reassurance from the dragon, the pea is pissed!

Now... its the day after, and I'm stuck alone in the house with a baby and a crapload of Halloween candy.  Think my son will notice if I throw it in the trash before I eat it all?

Hope you all had a great Halloween.  I'd love to hear what you or your kids dressed up as. 

And remember, the Halloween candy is made as far back as Valentine's day, so its old and gross when you get it.  If you really need a sweet fix get yourself a couple of good pieces of dark chocolate and sit down and savor them!

Four years ago today I was scared.  I had just had major surgery and a baby and he was in the NICU.  I didn't know what his future would be and I was in a state of shock!  Today he is a happy, thriving little boy.  I am blessed beyond measure to be his "mama" (his words).  I'm not sure I would have made it through the last 3 months without him.  He is sometimes the lone smile in my day
The moon smiled with such wonder
That the stars peeked in to see you
And the night wind whispered,
“Life will never be the same.”
Because there had never been anyone like you…ever in the world.
So enchanted with you were the wind and the rain
That they whispered the sound of your wonderful name.
It sailed through the farmland
High on the breeze…
Over the ocean…
And through the trees…
Until everyone heard it
And everyone knew
Of the one and only ever you.
Not once had there been such eyes,
Such a nose,
Such silly, wiggly, wonderful toes.
When the polar bears heard,
They danced until dawn.
From faraway places,
The geese flew home.
The moon stayed up until
Morning next day.
And none of the ladybugs flew away.
So whenever you doubt just how special you are
And you wonder who loves you, how much and how far,
Listen for geese honking high in the sky.
(They’re singing a song to remember you by.)
Or notice the bears asleep at the zoo.
(It’s because they’ve been dancing all night for you!)
Or drift off to sleep to the sound of the wind.
(Listen closely…it’s whispering your name again!)
If the moon stays up until morning one day,
Or a ladybug lands and decides to stay,
Or a little bird sits at your window awhile,
It’s because they’re all hoping to see you smile…
For never before in story or rhyme
(not even once upon a time)
Has the world ever known a you, my friend,
And it never will, not ever again…
Heaven blew every trumpet
And played every horn
On the wonderful, marvelous
Night you were born.

I'll be honest.  This past week dragged by!  First we had ungodly heat, then there was the blood pressure scare of last week's appointment, and the near daily blood pressure checks, bringing me finally to today.

Drum roll please.... 30 WEEKS!  There is a 3 in front of that number, people!  A 3... not a 1 or even a 2. 

I'm happy to report that my blood pressure has been steadily going down since last Thursday.  Readings in the last 2 days have been 119/76 and 114/72.  I have my weekly doctor appointment tomorrow, so we'll see how my blood pressure compares there.

And now, since the heat wave has passed, we've been able to get out walking again in the evenings.  I hope this will have a positive effect on my blood pressure, but it definitely does NOT feel very comfortable to me anymore.  Lots of pressure and pulling sensations in my hips and legs, and the other night I had round ligament pain for about 6 blocks.  I almost thought for a minute I'd have to have my husband walk home, get the car, and come pick me up!

Last night my son woke up wet in the middle of the night.  I changed his sheets, and laid awake for over an hour before I could finally fall back asleep again.  When I finally fell back asleep, it was only a half hour or so before my alarm sounded, but during that half hour, I had a dream.  I had a dream where Dr. P was delivering my baby.  They took the baby away, but brought her back to me.  She was beautiful, she was perfect, and the Dr. told me that the growth on the back of the head/neck was NOT an encephalocele.  They told me there weren't any other tests they needed to run and we could take her home.  It was the best dream I've ever had, but boy was I disappointed when I woke up and found it wasn't real. 

I don't believe much in the significance of dreams - otherwise I would have been captured a hundred times over by bad guys, fell off of numerous cliffs, and had monsters that chased me down every street.  I think I had the dream because I desire this in the depths of my heart, not because of some prediction I see happening.  Regardless, I can't help but hope there is some truth to what I saw.

I cannot leave this post without sharing my sweet "L"s almost 4 year old pictures that we had taken this past weekend.  Despite of the horribleness of this pregnancy, one hug from this boy certainly reminds me every single day that I am blessed.  My pregnancy with him was far from perfect, his birth was scary, and the 27 days he spent in the hospital were painful... but in the end, I think he was definitely worth it!

I remember my 20 week ultrasound with my son "L".  I remember finding out he was a boy.  I remember being happy, because even though I secretly longed for a girl, once they said he was a boy, I never thought about a girl ever again.  Then I remember hitting the store to buy my first "baby item", and remember thinking "Wow, there isn't much in here for boys."  I secretly eyed the girls section, with the super cute little outfits and darling dresses. 

Today, if you know my son, you will know that for a boy he is one of the most well-dressed kids around. It started while he was spending his first 27 days of life in the NICU, learning to eat and grow.  He was only 3 lbs 4 oz and 16 inches long, so even the newborn stuff we bought, and were given, was too big.  I started buying preemie clothes on eBay in between spending time at the hospital... and well, the rest is history.  I love buying cute clothes for him.  I stalk eBay for super cute Gymboree and Janie and Jack outfits, I hold out every season for the famous Gymboree circle of friends sale.  I am hopeless!

Last Thursday before our ultrasound, I was already certain we were having a girl.  I thought, finally, I can go into the girls section of the store, and probably spend way too much money on super cute little clothes.  I had visions of little dresses swirling in my head.  But after the spiraling events of that day, now the baby section at Target has me holding my breath and speeding quickly past, taking a sideways glance out of the corner of eye at this little blue dress, and feeling a tear slide out of my eye and down my cheek.

Calypso for Target Dress

Tonight we were at the Mall of America, and the cute girl clothes in the window at Hanna Andersen were enough to bring me to tears.  I am having a girl, and now I can't even bring myself to buy her something.  I wish I had the kind of faith that would allow me to, but in all honesty, I don't.  I will spend the rest of this pregnancy, however long that is, avoiding buying my little girl any clothes. 
I'm stuck... I can't buy myself regular clothes, because they no longer fit, now that I'm 20 weeks pregnant.  I can't buy maternity clothes, because I have no clue how long I'll actually need them, and deep down I'm really a cheapskate.  I can't even buy my own unborn baby girl clothes because I don't know if she will ever live to wear them.

I'm stuck, it stinks, its completely unfair, and I hate it!

I have SO much rambling around in my head, but I can't seem to organize any of it for a coherent post.  So maybe I'll just try a list:

- I lost .4 at my weigh in today.  Believe it or not I am OK with that.  I'm still 8 pounds below my goal weight.  I just have a lot going on right now.

- Speaking of a lot going on right now... I just switched my PointsPlus tracker to maintenance for awhile, as I really feel this is what I need to do right now.  There are some other things I'm going to focus on, rather than the number on the scale.  I'm OK with that.  WOW... that felt weird to say, but it is true.  I'm OK.

- I'm OK... yikes, the pure fact that I have to repeat that so many times in the past 5 sentences, must mean I am really not OK.  Yeah... I really am... I just have to stop myself hyperventilating sometimes. 

-- Speaking of hyperventilating, today I had to get some blood work done, and I just about had a freaking panic attack in the bathroom at the clinic.  You know what caused it?  The smell of the soap (Liz it still happens to me too 3-1/2 years later).  Its the raw, nose-tingling antiseptic soap smell from when "L" was in the NICU.  I thought I had that reaction under control, but apparently not.  It takes me to a bad place.  I managed to calm myself down with some positive thoughts and a prayer.  It helped, and now I'm OK.

- If you blog, do you ever think about how it is so weird to have your life splashed all out there on the Internet?  Today I got a hit on my blog from someone searching images - obese lady.  WOW... awesome.  I wonder what site my before picture will end up on now?  Oh well... I'm OK with it because I put my story out here to help people, inspire people, and let you know that you can do it, and yes, I too, still struggle every single day.

- I've been doing some interval work at the gym, and at the risk of offending a bunch of people, I have to say that walking on the treadmill makes me feel like a wimp - no offense to walkers, seriously.  This is just about me.  After running for so long, it just seems... well... strange.  And you know what?  I'm OK with that.

There you have it... RAW, REAL, and REALLY vague.  It's just how I am today, and I'm OK with that.  I really am.

In the spirit of celebrating Thanksgiving and focusing more on the positives and less on the negatives, I am posting one thing I am thankful for each day this week.

Today I am thankful for my good health, and the reminder of when it wasn't so good.  There honestly aren't too many days where I can look at this guy and not think about:
-- The traumatic circumstances around his birth, about how I so poorly treated my body thinking it would always give and never give up, about the 27 days "L" spent in the hospital when he was born. I always thought that "it won't happen to me", that I would be the "healthy" fat person. I was wrong! My number was finally up. I spent so many years lying to myself-telling myself that being fat was OK.

So today I thank the Lord that my son was born in the way he was (it has taken me a long time to get to the place where I can speak/write that sentence). It was the catalyst for changing my life and ultimately dropping 111.2 pounds. I tried more times before than you can count, and NOTHING clicked until THAT day. I thank the Lord for good health today, less sick days, strong arms, legs, and back, strong lungs, a healthy weight.  I am thankful for this:
and I am thankful for the pictures that serve as a reminder of less than good health and how far, by grace, I've been able to come.