The Making of M.O.M.

Well, if you don't follow me on twitter, or we're not friends on Facebook, you probably haven't heard the latest about my little in-utero trouble maker.

On Thursday night, little girl was doing some sort of alien type moves. At one point a perfect cone was standing an extra 4 inches tall on the left side of my stomach and the right side was a steep slope to the general area of where my hip bone used to be.

It was painful, to say the least.

Friday morning, as I showered, I found it harder than normal to bend over and wash my feet.

At my 36 week check up later that morning, my suspicions were confirmed. Baby girl is breech.

Thus my quest began and I googled everything I could on helping a baby turn from breech to vertex.

So far we've prayed, prayed and prayed. We've asked others to pray, our kids to pray, our friends to pray and begged the Lord for her to turn. I've laid inverted on an ironing board, propped against the couch with an ice pack on the top of my tummy and a hot pack on my pelvis. She moved, she kicked, she turned nearly half way. But this morning, her head was square under my ribs again.

Later this morning, I'm going to the chiropractor and hoping she can adjust my pelvis so that little lady has NO COMFORTABLE option but head down. I'll go again on Wednesday and on Thursday, my OB will see me and evaluate little lady to see if I'm a good candidate for an external cephalic version.

If those things don't work, I'm willing to try acupuncture, walking around exclusively on my hands and pitching a royal fit. I'm also willing to break out The Byrds, put headphones on my belly and blare it as loudly as possible.

I'm praying that when I go to the OB on Thursday, we will discover a head down baby, my water will break and I'll deliver her within the hour. I'd be happy if just the first statement is true, even if I'm praying for all 3.

How ironic would it be to have 3 successful, and pretty much routine, vajayjay deliveries - including a set of twins - and then have a c-section for this little stinker?

As I swollenly sit on the verge of swaddling, nursing sessions, sweet little diapers and tiny baby noises, I remember, so vividly anticipating the arrival of our first child.

Eight years ago I held another precious baby girl in my womb. Nestled inside, I could only wonder what lay beyond the delivery room doors. You know, out in the real world. The world of sleepless nights, breastfeeding, colic and growth spurts. I wondered, very little actually, about life beyond the first 12 months of motherhood.

Consumed with thoughts of labor and delivery, soft spots, co-sleeping and nursery decor, I didn't think much about life beyond my baby's first birthday.

Now, that baby is 7.5 years old and about to be a big sister six times over. (And she's really awesome at the big sister gig, if I do say so myself. I think she's more excited about the baby than I am. Too bad people who only see us from a distance think our kids are "suffering" through another sibling.)

Eight years ago, I had NO IDEA that our lives would look the way they do now. Luke and I never really sat and planned out the whole big family thing. It just sort of happened as we followed God's lead. I remember six years ago, when we were eagerly anticipating the arrival of the twins, I would tuck Elizabeth into ~~bed~~ her crib (she was only 22 months old when the twins were born) and then I would sob over the loss of her childhood. I was so afraid she would be scarred for life by having Lucas and Ashlee dropped into her lap before her second birthday.

And if I'm being honest, some days I still worry. Not so much about Elizabeth but more now about Ella, Aaron and Olivia. Am I going to have time for them like I wish? Are they going to resent the baby because she will consume so much of my time? Will Ella have a hard time adjusting to her new life which will entail a lot LESS time on my hip?

But then there the things that happen that prove to me that our children will be just fine.

Olivia knocks her drink off the table and Lucas enthusiastically scrambles to clean it up for her, assuring her that it's okay and it was only an accident and "Bubby will get you some more."

Or a time when Ella is fussy because I'm cooking dinner and can't give her my undivided attention. So Ashlee goes out of her way to entertain her, finding every toy that Ella enjoys and playing with them so ridiculously that Ella can't help but giggle and squeal. Which frees me up to finish making dinner.

Or when I'm gone to Bible study and Luke is trying to put the little three to bed. Without being prompted, Elizabeth cleans off the table, clears all the dishes and puts all the left over food away.

She's SEVEN y'all. We've never asked her to do such a task because, well, she has chores and that's not one of them. But she did so because of the overflow of her tender, loving, serving heart.

God knew she needed to be first among this brood of kids. He knew. And just as He knew all the things that I was overlooking eight years ago as I carried her in my womb, He knows now. He knows that my mind drifts to life beyond the next 12 months much more now than it does the next 12. He knows just how much I want to SLOW DOWN TIME because I'm afraid I will forget so much. I'm afraid I'll look up and eight more years will have passed, just like the last eight have.

But I rest in knowing that the God who orchestrated the complex design of our growing family will lead us in the future, just as He has in the past, if we look to Him.

I rest in knowing that the time of sleepless nights, spit up, seemingly endless fatigue, cereal for dinner - again and loads and load of laundry will be short lived in the grand timeline of my life. I know that when I look back at my life 20 years from now, I'll wonder where it all went and I'll probably laugh at my immature self a whole lot.

Just as God has known from the very beginning that we'd have 7 children in 7.5 years, He too knows how the next months of my life will pan out as we transition to our 7th child. He is good. He is faithful. He's got an incredible sense of humor (I mean, COME ON, 7 kids in 7.5 years?)

And He knows that even though motherhood is no joke, most of the time, it's really funny.