tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68253882638090638182024-02-06T22:35:21.675-08:00The Three RobertsWhitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.comBlogger80125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-59059504969369550812012-01-17T13:31:00.000-08:002012-01-17T13:31:20.951-08:00Isaac and NathanielDuring our time at home this Christmas, we took Nathaniel to visit Isaac's grave for the first time. CJay and I don't go to his grave often when we're in Tennessee. It's a long drive, but mostly, we don't need to go. I wanted to take Nathaniel, especially because as he's gets older, CJay and I will talk more about Isaac and his brief time on this earth. It was, surprisingly, an overwhelming experience. I hadn't given much thought to how I would feel, but seeing Nathaniel touching Isaac's headstone, standing where his brother lies, "meeting" him for the first time was, well, painful.<br />
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Nathaniel has healed us. Not completely. That's not possible. But he's given CJay and me a reason to smile and laugh. All the things Isaac should have given us, could have given us, if he only would have had the chance. </div>
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I don't claim to know much about Taoism or Chinese philosophy*, but I've read about yin and yang and what it represents. Isaac and Nathaniel are like our yin and yang: complementary opposites. No, not good and evil, but forces that wouldn't exist without the other. I've always believed that Nathaniel would not be here without Isaac. Isaac's death taught us about Nathaniel's life. Long before CJay and I knew Nathaniel. Long before we even considered another child. Isaac taught us how to cherish life. If Isaac hadn't died, Nathaniel wouldn't have been created. Maybe I sound crazy, but my children are connected just like other siblings. The only difference is that we have to leave our heart and soul open to see the connection. </div>
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What I usually feel when I stand over my son's grave is regret and anger. I feel the need to apologize. As if I let him down. What I felt standing next to Nathaniel as he touched Isaac's grave was gratitude and a renewed promise to do my best for both my sons. It's the only way I know how to continue Isaac's legacy, to make his life mean something more. </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>* No, I'm not converting to another religion; yin and yang is a fascinating concept. </i></span></div>Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-54229359715582083072011-12-23T08:25:00.000-08:002011-12-23T08:25:19.055-08:00Santa<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Nathaniel stays at an in-home day care near our house. His sitter is wonderful and planned crafts for the month of December and a party with a visit from Santa. Nathaniel did great with Santa. I was sure he would be scared and cry, but he didn't mind at all. We couldn't get him to smile for the camera, but I was just happy he wasn't screaming! </div>
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<br />Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-33823439097647717272011-12-06T11:36:00.001-08:002011-12-06T12:06:20.925-08:00CJay says the darndest things: Take 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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CJay has a way with words; I have a great memory. What a perfect combination! I have no disclaimer this time because well, he doesn't know I'm posting these. Like last time, I'm sure he'll ask in disbelief, "Did I really say that stuff?" Yes, dear. You did.<br />
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<i>Don't rush me. It's important that my avatar is accurate.</i><br />
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<i>Oh, like having a baby is such a big deal. </i><br />
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<i>Look at all those gray hairs! </i><br />
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<i>Your cookies are pretty good, but they could be better.</i><br />
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<i>No, I do like this. I'm just stunned by how delicious it is. </i><br />
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<i>I stepped in dog poop again. Why do bad things keep happening to me?</i><br />
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<i>I have to do everything around here!</i><br />
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<i>How did you even pass kindergarten?</i><br />
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<i>Aren't you supposed to be my secretary?</i><br />
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And my personal favorite:<br />
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<i>We should rent our son out to single men. </i>Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-65391360451478766342011-11-28T18:51:00.001-08:002011-11-28T18:57:47.212-08:00You've come a long way, baby!One year ago today, Nathaniel came into this world. What a year it's been! He's walking, talking, and becoming a little person. It's exciting and a little scary. We've had so much fun this year getting to know this amazing little guy. What a joy and a gift he's been to all of us, and I know I speak for all of the family when I say I can't wait to see what this next year brings!<div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">November 28, 2010</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always smiling! </td></tr>
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</div>Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-24500084360626400492011-11-08T17:34:00.000-08:002011-11-09T06:32:09.295-08:00Bad BloggerYes, I've been a bad blogger. I'm not sure how so many months have passed since I updated the blog. I'd like to blame it on my classes. Now that I have a break, I'm going to keep this blog up to date. Well, I'm going to try my best. :)
Nathaniel has been walking since he turned 10 months. He moves fast now. Too fast. His vocabulary is growing. My favorite word is "nigh nigh". I love the way he smiles up at me when I put him in bed and he says "nigh nigh." It's so sweet! He's such an affectionate kid. He hugs and kisses us all the time. Even with a snotty nose, a kiss from that boy will melt your heart. No matter what kind of day I've had, coming home to Nathaniel always makes me happy. I'm so happy to have him around.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He loves bath time. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great Grandpa, Uncle Devin, and Nathaniel</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A trip up the mountain to get fresh apples.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing with his John Deere. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saturday afternoon in the pool. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYpFI0dbABQAyHcfcNDh1lu5L3sO2LY2HSQUtDXg3IKGPei1YfToVqUuphy-eJHCJl_7dXQisLSh88aKQkzpNSMbaGA4anlVWx46rx6RHqfeJu-D5H6VzEpGAOT1RCn3vuecSK3B3VUDw/s1600/DSCN0726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYpFI0dbABQAyHcfcNDh1lu5L3sO2LY2HSQUtDXg3IKGPei1YfToVqUuphy-eJHCJl_7dXQisLSh88aKQkzpNSMbaGA4anlVWx46rx6RHqfeJu-D5H6VzEpGAOT1RCn3vuecSK3B3VUDw/s320/DSCN0726.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-7075202861530550072011-06-02T19:02:00.000-07:002011-06-02T19:46:16.854-07:00Nathaniel at 6 MonthsNathaniel turned 6 months old on May 28. It's amazing how much a baby changes in just 6 short months! He has his first tooth. He eats solid food. He's crawling. He's sitting. He's smiling and laughing. He's such a social person too. He loves when new people acknowledge him. He's incredibly laid back about almost everything, yet he seems to have his opinions. He loves our animals. When he does fuss, which is rare, I'll have Cocoa come over and wag her tail. Nathaniel will become so fascinated that he forgets that he was mad about something. He's drinking from a cup already and squeals for carrots! He's trying to pull up too. We tote him everywhere and he rarely complains. Everyone comments about how happy he is and most people ask if he's always like that. Yes, he's almost always happy and smiling. He wakes up smiling in the morning and coos himself to sleep in the evening. He is so much fun to have around! <br /><br />Here are the stats from his 6-month check up:<br /><br />Weight: 18 lbs 10 oz (73%)<br />Height: 26.1 inches (45%)<br />Head Circumference: 16.9 inches (33%)<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">First day of life </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8EB24Bwwi-DQJrTxZ4g-W63sSwvOWE_hWseAKN-JJNUSuHMkLygtolng5rIeFivxONjonVaqPBHB8No_qRIhRUNznfhxFz2lxZV948bhRPn13HRpTWQfYqYy382N4M9PDq8dRWUDkb4o/s1600/DSC01731.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8EB24Bwwi-DQJrTxZ4g-W63sSwvOWE_hWseAKN-JJNUSuHMkLygtolng5rIeFivxONjonVaqPBHB8No_qRIhRUNznfhxFz2lxZV948bhRPn13HRpTWQfYqYy382N4M9PDq8dRWUDkb4o/s400/DSC01731.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613814674165463426" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">1 Month</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Wtp_ga6GnXDmYBIm0MeGq2KLJ3wYhV6O0QHoEHjKsOj50PxB2-SKnIgguh7u6Dg5YfqfW30vu2hDwkCKwVIpDl5Zi2_7MlAvrWkxB0kVhyphenhypheneeTy8FPyNY4GH9By9mVx0phLBnFrU48lk/s1600/DSC01896.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Wtp_ga6GnXDmYBIm0MeGq2KLJ3wYhV6O0QHoEHjKsOj50PxB2-SKnIgguh7u6Dg5YfqfW30vu2hDwkCKwVIpDl5Zi2_7MlAvrWkxB0kVhyphenhypheneeTy8FPyNY4GH9By9mVx0phLBnFrU48lk/s400/DSC01896.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613814875218636626" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">2 Months</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3afY2X9PKAEQnlDy8D6ZNOeByHdj9O1ltf_JQkhLpzoZl9lYEiqJv7oxtuJr-XW7QKTNJRKeb7githiHjTvRW2EnnZ4uaFSCEfnv4QFW7JlPuWQE8owbP_nxwhyW7dIKy3kBhdfIgs08/s1600/P1040230.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3afY2X9PKAEQnlDy8D6ZNOeByHdj9O1ltf_JQkhLpzoZl9lYEiqJv7oxtuJr-XW7QKTNJRKeb7githiHjTvRW2EnnZ4uaFSCEfnv4QFW7JlPuWQE8owbP_nxwhyW7dIKy3kBhdfIgs08/s400/P1040230.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613815286404716626" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">3 Months</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqq7bsNYEhyphenhyphenLH_PEqGoT2ZPXORapcyj4NSp9o76gipN0v9oFmD0dQO41BeRvP7BFg8cBJDOhVy1JbPfBlmq8KD-EGMFgVe5Jl1wn6G557rF9Nmq_D7IRlvSa5957lIFQz2_r7PTNFulqY/s1600/DSCN0137.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqq7bsNYEhyphenhyphenLH_PEqGoT2ZPXORapcyj4NSp9o76gipN0v9oFmD0dQO41BeRvP7BFg8cBJDOhVy1JbPfBlmq8KD-EGMFgVe5Jl1wn6G557rF9Nmq_D7IRlvSa5957lIFQz2_r7PTNFulqY/s400/DSCN0137.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613815750821422034" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">4 Months</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK207NM79pdw9rSUmacoAElsL7F4eqVDT-IINP1YxmQOjK99-AHC56bNWgQJiTs-rbqfXgteNtLIwKgzTUwJUOzAcVEaQbpfmD6Ljfz7M3aCMlAbh99i25LNCnUJJ9Eqokd_p_Vflw34E/s1600/DSCN0173.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK207NM79pdw9rSUmacoAElsL7F4eqVDT-IINP1YxmQOjK99-AHC56bNWgQJiTs-rbqfXgteNtLIwKgzTUwJUOzAcVEaQbpfmD6Ljfz7M3aCMlAbh99i25LNCnUJJ9Eqokd_p_Vflw34E/s400/DSCN0173.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613816294277360642" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">5 Months</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidBvwt0GppXxTU5qdQe6C-JPV9Bn3JdpFJ5VJSLD-5zso2Gy2Mlk7ckpLfZorfDFPFywL_BpHzv-pP0ZWv5S_vJ9NGY1cI4van9cxONhCG4Esz_2fOarzu2V-iyX0YsNPDb8_YmqwXMww/s1600/DSCN0242.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidBvwt0GppXxTU5qdQe6C-JPV9Bn3JdpFJ5VJSLD-5zso2Gy2Mlk7ckpLfZorfDFPFywL_BpHzv-pP0ZWv5S_vJ9NGY1cI4van9cxONhCG4Esz_2fOarzu2V-iyX0YsNPDb8_YmqwXMww/s400/DSCN0242.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613816861579440162" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">6 Months</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia7k8GYpRsICVWikwE45Bl8TlYxa8vTahcmvR0bMH7a0nk54BW6w9DD6qdpF-ycb3KFoooafzj8OACfs5f7eGBXC0efrEcNeefg8R3gVlPwAXQKo730OLEkeiloKjIeOcHr8B10GsBM-M/s1600/P1040718.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia7k8GYpRsICVWikwE45Bl8TlYxa8vTahcmvR0bMH7a0nk54BW6w9DD6qdpF-ycb3KFoooafzj8OACfs5f7eGBXC0efrEcNeefg8R3gVlPwAXQKo730OLEkeiloKjIeOcHr8B10GsBM-M/s400/P1040718.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613818064878909570" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6qL-Ef-afDfElRmjYJU1z4DcoBGnmUzXnhpIEJ3AH0_aDEBHz8yTWCLUiVwUrY7hl_ry6q-gO6ZGsdD0hsWNl6ccpjiD509rfw6OUELjHdqaD_66TNWHrpgWtfH3abXIeBEqzb6L0694/s1600/P1040670.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6qL-Ef-afDfElRmjYJU1z4DcoBGnmUzXnhpIEJ3AH0_aDEBHz8yTWCLUiVwUrY7hl_ry6q-gO6ZGsdD0hsWNl6ccpjiD509rfw6OUELjHdqaD_66TNWHrpgWtfH3abXIeBEqzb6L0694/s400/P1040670.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613818046712492450" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNeYNzTJ5IRfUoEW85z7JQBn5erqVOseQ0UmfumXxeO115urtG1kQ1TVc9hBOD7tCcHLtY2GSvB0JiQEv-NNaadUMAJf3IDPukPpeqti1weTpPgGwjaNNKu4qYCboM9p9J6PIyagcfwo/s1600/P1040679.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNeYNzTJ5IRfUoEW85z7JQBn5erqVOseQ0UmfumXxeO115urtG1kQ1TVc9hBOD7tCcHLtY2GSvB0JiQEv-NNaadUMAJf3IDPukPpeqti1weTpPgGwjaNNKu4qYCboM9p9J6PIyagcfwo/s400/P1040679.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613818040342912162" /></a>Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-89525708616948900082011-05-11T17:36:00.000-07:002011-05-13T13:22:28.515-07:00Mother's DayI've been a mother for three Mother's Days. Three. This was the first Mother's Day that I've had the privilege to celebrate with a child. It's so much better that way. It doesn't change the fact that I missed Isaac, but I'm so grateful for Nathaniel. <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkTS6tqlhvOJVUA3syYRTCqosUA8zEX0AEMgU_uPmRE-UxLfT1-Fe4Yw8kSMC5njc3KSgsa5nZ7tUmMrueqopeRSXJ5k7ICQVIksv8cftkCKWPlDs8OT7vGO5A8yJT17rQkDO0UBP17Yg/s1600/DSCN0326.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkTS6tqlhvOJVUA3syYRTCqosUA8zEX0AEMgU_uPmRE-UxLfT1-Fe4Yw8kSMC5njc3KSgsa5nZ7tUmMrueqopeRSXJ5k7ICQVIksv8cftkCKWPlDs8OT7vGO5A8yJT17rQkDO0UBP17Yg/s400/DSCN0326.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605624875372416754" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIf4R9J0OUWFlznFzP1lbAcjxTbb6wS-OkoIeN88UVJYM6zHx0dJJE_NFOdvPfR1asDZgV-clFutSJ2E_FsBDKNY0UwyvYSjp3xtE4PDdbQYWFJH3Bf3ylU2bHCUIgtd38-5BDPUpTWm8/s1600/DSCN0325.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIf4R9J0OUWFlznFzP1lbAcjxTbb6wS-OkoIeN88UVJYM6zHx0dJJE_NFOdvPfR1asDZgV-clFutSJ2E_FsBDKNY0UwyvYSjp3xtE4PDdbQYWFJH3Bf3ylU2bHCUIgtd38-5BDPUpTWm8/s400/DSCN0325.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605624867630346162" /></a><br />It's true that anything your child makes for you is the most wonderful thing you've ever seen. Funny how that works.<br /><br />Thanks to Vicky for helping Nathaniel make his first Mother's Day presents. I love them!Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-25775975135245234272011-04-24T19:57:00.001-07:002011-04-24T20:05:45.203-07:00Happy Easter<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbVMbqd5dgJ-X-w6e4jr53QK17PW2Dmr6XH1eeUDTcyBznaXHrXq4TH6XsQwris_fdlnMkk7HPb5DVblUadHpgDXk-L0HxJ_LZK3oQK8V8p8vcxzCv59PYiL2FGsW9hJcDiY5rtP14DU8/s1600/DSCN0232.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbVMbqd5dgJ-X-w6e4jr53QK17PW2Dmr6XH1eeUDTcyBznaXHrXq4TH6XsQwris_fdlnMkk7HPb5DVblUadHpgDXk-L0HxJ_LZK3oQK8V8p8vcxzCv59PYiL2FGsW9hJcDiY5rtP14DU8/s400/DSCN0232.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599351579284709282" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGyKSUluaMEBlXELX_q6uJDSvSZYpoSfor_xXZ80s-JzzzOepBUP7BJ4-u6iyLGiZZ37oZlV09liuhyphenhyphenhQ2TwUAOHC7tW0lZAUAkU1c-XYVfhgc91fLlIOeWDI3ziUQK9tSnT0Q85AXp8E/s1600/DSCN0228.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGyKSUluaMEBlXELX_q6uJDSvSZYpoSfor_xXZ80s-JzzzOepBUP7BJ4-u6iyLGiZZ37oZlV09liuhyphenhyphenhQ2TwUAOHC7tW0lZAUAkU1c-XYVfhgc91fLlIOeWDI3ziUQK9tSnT0Q85AXp8E/s400/DSCN0228.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599350993112172034" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUgIoDZSMq5VWgU2yaCRPpbVUiQcD9eqB_hj7ltXBvaAQdAcTXvkJQq24I65S79JHtwzOAqMZ7TmpyOGIgiqw-HufqigeYP7P0lciSGO64X1TD5BeQBZFMpHxe6mmacYp8sDzb8sO51XM/s1600/DSCN0221.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUgIoDZSMq5VWgU2yaCRPpbVUiQcD9eqB_hj7ltXBvaAQdAcTXvkJQq24I65S79JHtwzOAqMZ7TmpyOGIgiqw-HufqigeYP7P0lciSGO64X1TD5BeQBZFMpHxe6mmacYp8sDzb8sO51XM/s400/DSCN0221.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599350987740004674" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZBbmfLzpIHDYsDpVQNntIjXEDTpSU_JgtgwFZ-cG10AtJJ3RuvRvo59Cg9rdh1NbEtqbu1o7YXZCrD1QQPUBT_ofy6UO3UYOpffFhNpUPEaIxwEtAib-uK9wKHhSTURbJZyZhSm1ftEI/s1600/DSCN0213.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZBbmfLzpIHDYsDpVQNntIjXEDTpSU_JgtgwFZ-cG10AtJJ3RuvRvo59Cg9rdh1NbEtqbu1o7YXZCrD1QQPUBT_ofy6UO3UYOpffFhNpUPEaIxwEtAib-uK9wKHhSTURbJZyZhSm1ftEI/s400/DSCN0213.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599350978493975282" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju07MsuFqmgLbsnTyHbgT5I4j4Qeh1U8uzSYIVOxHQpFPZ1XHzSbBUYcd0nLH5DhzWmjC2K1rKXTAN5hMJGdUclvYN9KMwtCOVgU_neFNgKXiiz14BrlRI7ilqQjTCK4ZWC5XwewFV_HY/s1600/DSCN0215.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju07MsuFqmgLbsnTyHbgT5I4j4Qeh1U8uzSYIVOxHQpFPZ1XHzSbBUYcd0nLH5DhzWmjC2K1rKXTAN5hMJGdUclvYN9KMwtCOVgU_neFNgKXiiz14BrlRI7ilqQjTCK4ZWC5XwewFV_HY/s400/DSCN0215.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599350974054682658" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwSSXL0UlpZiW9r1A_B7lCx9PbWUSY7oGh3b7z9qpR1SFYqFvxTHbu_1ULe4SQdq313jOtzN7Z7BXToMWiw1fEKD1cDCUlw9Y1o6xkhw1IeswoZMjnK6UEpBORAfvDgnmH7x8GcL5dev8/s1600/DSCN0219.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwSSXL0UlpZiW9r1A_B7lCx9PbWUSY7oGh3b7z9qpR1SFYqFvxTHbu_1ULe4SQdq313jOtzN7Z7BXToMWiw1fEKD1cDCUlw9Y1o6xkhw1IeswoZMjnK6UEpBORAfvDgnmH7x8GcL5dev8/s400/DSCN0219.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599350969362913218" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgLFeD1KM7Um9w0lOHcTW6HXt_KFgy4O6zYCQan5lKKUC53jIS_RxUtyEskxW1LRkk7-7xfTMOIeJ1dW4tB0E-TF28muJ8jxBYBS9_IgwGd1ArLuPa7t4PdAVtKgOotUI8gdj42M78KNQ/s1600/DSCN0239.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgLFeD1KM7Um9w0lOHcTW6HXt_KFgy4O6zYCQan5lKKUC53jIS_RxUtyEskxW1LRkk7-7xfTMOIeJ1dW4tB0E-TF28muJ8jxBYBS9_IgwGd1ArLuPa7t4PdAVtKgOotUI8gdj42M78KNQ/s400/DSCN0239.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599351588224410818" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_xPGDoK_k3PZ3wTHw_-qoPL_MxiB5g2bODlKnnqbHKL03Y3WabEyO7Bh1uWEAH5Ze-oF0uVwWu-014DPxDTDysRkfUyyNkGrUUswmkCq0fNLXx1ksb0mugBjkeHYztoSPfsvHXpsabO8/s1600/DSCN0238.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_xPGDoK_k3PZ3wTHw_-qoPL_MxiB5g2bODlKnnqbHKL03Y3WabEyO7Bh1uWEAH5Ze-oF0uVwWu-014DPxDTDysRkfUyyNkGrUUswmkCq0fNLXx1ksb0mugBjkeHYztoSPfsvHXpsabO8/s400/DSCN0238.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599351585986488162" /></a>Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-20755481528941326612011-03-24T17:41:00.000-07:002011-03-24T18:01:48.195-07:00What is today?The milk carton in the fridge says March 24. I've been looking at it for a few days and wondering why March 24 gave me that feeling. You know the one: there's something I'm supposed to remember about March 24. March 24. What is it about March 24? Today, I was running it around my head again. What is it about today? Finally I remembered. March 24 was Isaac's due date. I was sad that I didn't remember that detail about something so important. I find it upsetting because I've always wanted to remember everything I could about Isaac, and to know that it wasn't the first thing on my mind worries me. I know there are other things taking my attention these days, but I still want hold on to the small things about my experience with Isaac. <br /><br />I read <a href="http://sgirl79.blogspot.com/2011/03/to-know-and-be-known.html">Stacy Delisle's post</a> about her Isaac and Eliana. I've thought so much about how we'll be able to keep Isaac a part of our lives and teach Nathaniel about his brother when his life was short. Her post was encouraging. It <span style="font-style:italic;">is</span> possible that Nathaniel will understand he's a little brother. My only struggle now is being able to talk with him about it. Any time I've tried, I've been close to tears. It's nearly impossible to speak over the lump in my throat. I hope I'll be able to do what Stacy has done and help Nathaniel know how important his brother was and still is to us, even if I don't always remember all the tiny details.Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-47353582230775363202011-03-09T17:41:00.000-08:002011-03-09T18:02:46.597-08:00Laughing BabyNathaniel started laughing last week, but it was nearly impossible to get video evidence. He's too mesmerized by the camera! I was finally able to get him on video. CJay had just gotten home from work and was only talking to Nathaniel, but I guess that was enough!<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwHxWI6afblbnqDQBY7lEWur6Mfts358lIDTV7kFJ2xlq3L8870mAVdfV9YGuMrkMzHs4hllLrJxDSB4ydPcA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-20307196571151921602011-03-05T07:33:00.000-08:002011-03-05T07:55:23.839-08:00Happy BirthdayIsaac would be 2 today. I imagine that we would have traveled to Tennessee this weekend to be with our families. There would have been balloons and cake. Grandparents would have been snapping pictures and enjoying their little energetic grandchild. <br /><br />I really don't let myself explore the "what ifs" and the "could have beens". It's a road that leads nowhere and really only makes me sadder. The truth is that this weekend is hard. We miss our first born. CJay and I have to talk about what was happening this time 2 years ago and remember the agony of letting go of our son. It's part of the process, I know. So many parents have done this too. <br /><br />Losing Isaac was the hardest thing I've ever experienced, but I'm so thankful for what Isaac's life gave us. I miss him everyday and would give almost anything to see his sweet face again. <br /><br /><br />Happy Birthday, Isaac Liam. You are missed!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4vmPh3KcE1BSqO34rCjvqiJdTPCE73TtGigYRgvn5Pm8OStU3QGzCrAzMmCOuI8zAiirRymhj-NHleiRjLSDGjXwc1m5jDACGTPzTn1OMs6S5pnBTCg_337RSylZg5ws7os2m5f4XsL0/s1600/IMG_0145-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4vmPh3KcE1BSqO34rCjvqiJdTPCE73TtGigYRgvn5Pm8OStU3QGzCrAzMmCOuI8zAiirRymhj-NHleiRjLSDGjXwc1m5jDACGTPzTn1OMs6S5pnBTCg_337RSylZg5ws7os2m5f4XsL0/s400/IMG_0145-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580624748111147378" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4Pa-8xWlNTV2Yb_CJCowG78fZjpPRM28MEM-bQRQYhgVpITFdww0x4RipNuS8ze7kRogEpWVJRauCVI3U4uEey0XL7t4LDXHiIl9pyOFkals4qmA_mYNtBcyCLtIFyFuy0o-mauuDhI/s1600/IMG_0057-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4Pa-8xWlNTV2Yb_CJCowG78fZjpPRM28MEM-bQRQYhgVpITFdww0x4RipNuS8ze7kRogEpWVJRauCVI3U4uEey0XL7t4LDXHiIl9pyOFkals4qmA_mYNtBcyCLtIFyFuy0o-mauuDhI/s400/IMG_0057-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580624745660375906" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnQj27kROo5cPcGCpYC7tO1gQ5Qv9TkAvXVuXxBLULzuoSK96s_Pd5DznjDjzxTzwviiHZduu8OhnogJ36EhTBtITG-rx04aXTLwt3Du7KTZX5bIOoKnrnDSbyczdBgYruZ9v_jzC60rU/s1600/IMG_0004-3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnQj27kROo5cPcGCpYC7tO1gQ5Qv9TkAvXVuXxBLULzuoSK96s_Pd5DznjDjzxTzwviiHZduu8OhnogJ36EhTBtITG-rx04aXTLwt3Du7KTZX5bIOoKnrnDSbyczdBgYruZ9v_jzC60rU/s400/IMG_0004-3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580624745719470930" /></a>Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-5480988275835997182011-02-24T12:04:00.000-08:002011-02-25T08:23:45.239-08:00Baby Samuel<span style="font-style:italic;">Amid my list of blessings infinite,<br />Stands this the foremost, “That my heart has bled.”</span> <br />- Edward Young<br /><br />I think I'm fairly optimistic. I want to be positive and hope for the best. I try to count my blessings and remember how fortunate I am. Food on the table. A warm home. A healthy son. <br /><br />But there are days, days like today, when I remember only one thing: my heart has bled. It bled for my son and it bleeds again today for baby Samuel Wyatt Rice. It bleeds for his mom and dad whose lives are forever changed. It bleeds for a family that will always miss their grandson, nephew, and maybe one day, brother. The loss is immeasurable. The pain is unreal. <br /><br />I hope you'll take a few minutes and send all your thoughts, prayers, love, and hugs to the Rice family as they struggle with what they've been through these past few days and as they face what lies ahead.Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-34063901665970979362011-02-23T12:46:00.001-08:002011-02-23T13:19:39.940-08:003 month updateAll is going well with Nathaniel. He's a very happy little guy, content with looking around and watching the dogs play. He loves going out in the Baby Bjorn, and when we've had some warmer days, I've taken him outside to play with the dogs in the evenings. He's been sleeping up to 9 hours - not every night but several in a row - and I'm actually starting to feel like a human again. I've been back to work for a month, and we've been so fortunate to have a great sitter who keeps him during the day. She even sends me texts and pictures while I'm at work! <br /><br />Other little tidbits on Nathaniel:<br />- He's hot natured like his parents. <br />- Almost everyday he gives a morning and evening dissertation that includes loud cooing at his mobile. He takes his speeches very seriously, complete with high-pitched noises and a furrowed brow.<br />- He enjoys being "punched" by his dad.<br />- He likes being held upside down (by his father, of course). Our Jack Russell, however, does not like this and gets very agitated until the baby is back to a full upright position. <br />- He likes sitting in the bumbo while I work in the kitchen. The only downside is that I get distracted by his cuteness and do things like leave the refrigerator door open or leave the water running. Whoops.<br />- He doesn't like tummy time but will tolerate it more now than he did a few weeks ago. We're working on it! <br />- He's advanced and very strong for his age, according to the doctor. <br />- His hair is growing in quickly, and even though we thought it was going to be dark like CJay's, it actually has red in it like mine.<br />- He moves a lot in his sleep. Really. I've provided a picture for proof. He starts in his little wedge that's supposed to keep him still, and ends up at the bottom of the crib. And no, moving him closer to the bottom didn't help. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9SFai3r4fQa1C211dQr8CYadMjds98O1yIIS0ZlVzUh9QuWEp5vE9pp3NIuD5OLJqsKZZDswHv8JM5xweqFGzCUxWnZpCB_hyMe9n9Pec6Edhkt8QvKEWDDmq6CwMZpJiYepnuUwzbwg/s1600/DSC01977.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9SFai3r4fQa1C211dQr8CYadMjds98O1yIIS0ZlVzUh9QuWEp5vE9pp3NIuD5OLJqsKZZDswHv8JM5xweqFGzCUxWnZpCB_hyMe9n9Pec6Edhkt8QvKEWDDmq6CwMZpJiYepnuUwzbwg/s400/DSC01977.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576995572828546738" /></a><br /><br />Here are a few other 3-month-old pictures. <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_hkRMwDBrK7apdPPQtlIgRqMnwOj1v-qLYk020U29MtN4zVbXPg2ov2fa6npxaH7mypb98zfxHXasgG5gLJp59g51WRpQy0N7sZ67HqdGbPVbQsM5QVa4cgpgtNsfIvX076F5dguWHYg/s1600/DSCN0089.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_hkRMwDBrK7apdPPQtlIgRqMnwOj1v-qLYk020U29MtN4zVbXPg2ov2fa6npxaH7mypb98zfxHXasgG5gLJp59g51WRpQy0N7sZ67HqdGbPVbQsM5QVa4cgpgtNsfIvX076F5dguWHYg/s400/DSCN0089.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576997226620873362" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUvSS2LudGLlbPhrE3wdWZKeUyXyEI71VPWYkQCT9eDq_fVascl5kp3VnO6Gd-9XBiRjQm_GFMNEk4SK353w6yJxhQHsxkPCY-wKXrk09fkVTAHRLRcbmwLldXOWIQBQapUlL6Nk7vhok/s1600/DSCN0107.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUvSS2LudGLlbPhrE3wdWZKeUyXyEI71VPWYkQCT9eDq_fVascl5kp3VnO6Gd-9XBiRjQm_GFMNEk4SK353w6yJxhQHsxkPCY-wKXrk09fkVTAHRLRcbmwLldXOWIQBQapUlL6Nk7vhok/s400/DSCN0107.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576997226519025586" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht5CAosatCClciX0jzwDVtFHROK4ucJKh_6TgNqyF_XvQG-y2aajojS8RPH4EZJWrMYXUKfoNYowwZxxv_rraEl5M5eegk5sbSeFW6yDdB7Sij6wKLZAVSiAiUb3NJ7FwCjp7vv_eSffc/s1600/DSCN0098.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht5CAosatCClciX0jzwDVtFHROK4ucJKh_6TgNqyF_XvQG-y2aajojS8RPH4EZJWrMYXUKfoNYowwZxxv_rraEl5M5eegk5sbSeFW6yDdB7Sij6wKLZAVSiAiUb3NJ7FwCjp7vv_eSffc/s400/DSCN0098.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576997221284287858" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9LbZvZv4Ruqz5PllWxeCQUXa73_2pdYQe4UcHbh8RNbICxlRK-DcC6xMhBnzs_mtAXH74Lv8hEuzqsEJkpoQc8N8s4sZ0zJRMwBLbh1-UqkqKflc3UhUoTuNMFJJDBYkNlOQgAWb6kBs/s1600/DSCN0095.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9LbZvZv4Ruqz5PllWxeCQUXa73_2pdYQe4UcHbh8RNbICxlRK-DcC6xMhBnzs_mtAXH74Lv8hEuzqsEJkpoQc8N8s4sZ0zJRMwBLbh1-UqkqKflc3UhUoTuNMFJJDBYkNlOQgAWb6kBs/s400/DSCN0095.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576997215451983602" /></a>Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-70296251466918586402011-01-28T10:10:00.000-08:002011-01-28T13:58:22.752-08:00What I wish...I wish this was my second time with an 8.5 week old. <br /><br />I wish we were rummaging through infant clothes that we had packed away when Isaac outgrew them. <br /><br />I wish we were propping Nathaniel in Isaac's lap for pictures. <br /><br />I wish we could marvel at both our boys. <br /><br />I wish Isaac could love Nathaniel. <br /><br />I wish we were chasing an almost 2 year old around the house. <br /><br />I wish Isaac was here now. <br /><br />Having another baby in the house doesn't mean I've been too busy to think about my first. It's amazing how much more I wonder what he would have been like at Nathaniel's age. Would he have been this easy going? Would he have smiled like Nathaniel smiles? I tried not to think about the what if's after we lost Isaac, but it's nearly impossible not to now that there's a healthy little boy in our house. <br /><br />What's truly amazing is how much CJay and I value Nathaniel's life and health. Before Nathaniel came we promised each other to keep our perspective. We didn't know how tired we would be or how irritated sleep deprivation could make us, but we've tried our hardest to remember that none of that matters. There were times when other new parents made comments about being so tired and longing for sleep. Like other parents without their babies, CJay and I have talked about how much we wanted to be up at night, if that's what it took to hold Isaac again. What matters is that every hour of sleep lost is worth it. We wouldn't trade it. Of course, it's hard, but Nathaniel is such a worthy little investment of our time and we're so incredibly thankful for what we have now and for what we've lost.Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-63992256470386774292011-01-11T18:07:00.000-08:002011-01-11T18:14:20.344-08:00Ain't he cute?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLhZ4dVwFYFra0D6P1wM3diD1vDcU5xzn8OcMt-WFi5JwsckA_5AqOXUx1Q5O9BRznJZrtu3HEwkZds5qJIsEHywTQczQyANKrF2mqxMmwEfzEQ-QxzU2q6Zzq6ona7dNV5HhxctW0r4A/s1600/DSC01874.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLhZ4dVwFYFra0D6P1wM3diD1vDcU5xzn8OcMt-WFi5JwsckA_5AqOXUx1Q5O9BRznJZrtu3HEwkZds5qJIsEHywTQczQyANKrF2mqxMmwEfzEQ-QxzU2q6Zzq6ona7dNV5HhxctW0r4A/s400/DSC01874.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561116059276252818" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE3bjABqX9_pBJh0CGx15iJ5lROv-E1visxn8xAziNcUE7V_d1AcwLr2_ec77nbmv3TQA97AsGCeKvz7yi0pxfM4TqdvKYDQq_qqg19Na3bIwpmKKzOnwNBmEMn3nUeaaFKvdMxUmx6sg/s1600/DSC01944.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE3bjABqX9_pBJh0CGx15iJ5lROv-E1visxn8xAziNcUE7V_d1AcwLr2_ec77nbmv3TQA97AsGCeKvz7yi0pxfM4TqdvKYDQq_qqg19Na3bIwpmKKzOnwNBmEMn3nUeaaFKvdMxUmx6sg/s400/DSC01944.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561116059738888466" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn7RMOTfAl-mBbBfDaIhf0jMjQDap07_-YfcClY53KrLBeDwd-45BMDlwRE0KB6EfcPVS_CBBv8_1siG2EiW_AHySvgou77BalG3NsX22yNnTADI5gc4jXMUgAJZg35wxLJ2cYoowjUdM/s1600/DSC01933.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn7RMOTfAl-mBbBfDaIhf0jMjQDap07_-YfcClY53KrLBeDwd-45BMDlwRE0KB6EfcPVS_CBBv8_1siG2EiW_AHySvgou77BalG3NsX22yNnTADI5gc4jXMUgAJZg35wxLJ2cYoowjUdM/s400/DSC01933.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561116053959166674" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixgr972NiUECV4bTY8JF0TxfPjligNjc53fjII2RNyagbacN60Vxvggmnz7mPHVpix-zQ2M6Aa7dVWUkR5Ca3r2BB4KjBSU9ETFTo8cYzSSz6w6-yf_i0n5rpFwYmSqWvnOGSXLlZGQos/s1600/DSC01909.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixgr972NiUECV4bTY8JF0TxfPjligNjc53fjII2RNyagbacN60Vxvggmnz7mPHVpix-zQ2M6Aa7dVWUkR5Ca3r2BB4KjBSU9ETFTo8cYzSSz6w6-yf_i0n5rpFwYmSqWvnOGSXLlZGQos/s400/DSC01909.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561116048895448050" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNNYXpjAa8j26dPMxZGP7EkZa-dy9J7idgu8QRX4caaiKJt7k7xnn1mMZpaeEZyKvQK4iGq3VbPUZkxEFnfg95e7HREU4mdLfkMvLWhZf5Ge9pjnJRtWEXadRqzvLbO6Xd-TnoB44x34/s1600/DSC01958.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNNYXpjAa8j26dPMxZGP7EkZa-dy9J7idgu8QRX4caaiKJt7k7xnn1mMZpaeEZyKvQK4iGq3VbPUZkxEFnfg95e7HREU4mdLfkMvLWhZf5Ge9pjnJRtWEXadRqzvLbO6Xd-TnoB44x34/s400/DSC01958.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561116836254710258" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8r4V-fWUM2EVaFLJaM-maotSexDez2i3LoN4WXf3xQc-stNf6L2vMAQEJ1Yw0QpTk4cFnxYQvAOyealbv5ivKXSdlE39LuxJHrrKPgJi6x0O0CV8_9O_OFk4s9llW-Bpb-haDA7bnN74/s1600/DSC01954.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8r4V-fWUM2EVaFLJaM-maotSexDez2i3LoN4WXf3xQc-stNf6L2vMAQEJ1Yw0QpTk4cFnxYQvAOyealbv5ivKXSdlE39LuxJHrrKPgJi6x0O0CV8_9O_OFk4s9llW-Bpb-haDA7bnN74/s400/DSC01954.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561116830684883362" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2e5ox5hjHMUrg8jYzBc0NQnIQjHr88kBVCMlq6Z2iMkkTCql_A-cPp-WaQ9sQdaO0DIVhRi-ZC3gR8hxlLbz4e6icf875gt7iwN-Phgif8FUo9wXd8B4fMrdev7zglhkUc7vDnZcUsS0/s1600/DSC01952.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2e5ox5hjHMUrg8jYzBc0NQnIQjHr88kBVCMlq6Z2iMkkTCql_A-cPp-WaQ9sQdaO0DIVhRi-ZC3gR8hxlLbz4e6icf875gt7iwN-Phgif8FUo9wXd8B4fMrdev7zglhkUc7vDnZcUsS0/s400/DSC01952.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561116829364352402" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSydvjrs5bEsFMbZ-yVrvyZNess8ywYq2ASQ9AYhsL8kPIrtKb3nSmqPMTZfiz_v-CXcv6XIV7ftE_nlzxRSph00dkdQ-JKgr6JaBmHjCIzZrAL1GhUlB7LuHBBDYptdKklX4PCa_0nQ/s1600/DSC01951.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSydvjrs5bEsFMbZ-yVrvyZNess8ywYq2ASQ9AYhsL8kPIrtKb3nSmqPMTZfiz_v-CXcv6XIV7ftE_nlzxRSph00dkdQ-JKgr6JaBmHjCIzZrAL1GhUlB7LuHBBDYptdKklX4PCa_0nQ/s400/DSC01951.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561116822866478514" /></a>Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-43957249339629748622010-12-15T14:13:00.000-08:002011-12-06T11:53:48.700-08:00CJay says the darndest thingsI came up with this blog idea while I was pregnant. I actually thought of it on Saturday after Thanksgiving and planned to write it on Sunday, but instead I was at the hospital! <br />
<br />
Sometimes, CJay really does say the darnedest things, and he's fortunate enough to have a wife with an incredible memory (and a wonderful sense of humor and lovely hair and awesome baking skills ... but I digress). Ha! I decided it would be funny to share some of the comments he made while I was pregnant. I do have his approval for this, but only if I include a disclaimer: "CJay is not a terrible husband and none of these comments made me mad." At least half of that statement is true. :) <br />
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(After I got home from class one night at 10:30 and took off my shoes.)<br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">Your feet would only look worse if they were bloody stumps.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">Yeah, your nose does look a little bigger. <br /><br />Have you always had that big freckle on your stomach?<br /><br />You would not believe how tired I am right now!<br /><br />Whoa, your hands are really huge!<br /><br />What are we gonna do if this kid acts like you?</span><br />
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<span style="font-style: italic;">Are you having a contraction? Is this the big one?<br /><br />I forgot what you looked like when you weren't pregnant. </span><br />
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<span style="font-style: italic;">Can't you just punch yourself in the stomach and get this thing started?</span><br />
And last but not least...<br />
(When I was ~5 hours into labor)<br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">I'm having terrible heartburn, if that makes you feel any better. </span><br />
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Just because I'm sharing things about CJay...<br />
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While I was sitting in the OR waiting for the doctor to stick a giant needle in my spine, the nurse/surgical tech/whoever she was asked me how I thought my husband was doing in the other room and if I thought he was really nervous. I said, "CJay's probably fine." Later that night I was looking through the pictures CJay had taken when Nathaniel was first born, and there was a picture of him. A picture of him in the other room waiting while I was getting a giant needle stuck in my spine and the lady was asking if he was okay. This is the picture...<br />
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<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEPBpbsYF8Bkyp_unmctq1nH3V9v_oNdnHteBING-3jZb-tk1qaYzFFnhtVws0rejfq0o5KyUCltC0XNSEvWyWb7vw_iw82rYSPGBNAAuawnh88mhiMEHjfxG-sa88cscKvdkQfSCgew/s1600/DSC01706.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551044034409378642" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEPBpbsYF8Bkyp_unmctq1nH3V9v_oNdnHteBING-3jZb-tk1qaYzFFnhtVws0rejfq0o5KyUCltC0XNSEvWyWb7vw_iw82rYSPGBNAAuawnh88mhiMEHjfxG-sa88cscKvdkQfSCgew/s400/DSC01706.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 225px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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As it turns out, CJay was doing just fine.Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-62573238373874807082010-12-13T14:01:00.000-08:002010-12-13T14:23:51.201-08:00Two weeks alreadyIt's hard to believe that 2 weeks have passed since Nathaniel first made his grand appearance. I'd say we've been adjusting pretty well to his presence. My mom stayed with us for several days and that made such a difference. She is particularly good at decoding baby language, and CJay and I felt like she shortened our learning curve by miles. I'm recovering better this time around. The doctors assured me it would be an easier surgery because it wasn't emergent, and thankfully, they were right. I've been able to move around and do much more without assistance. I even took my finals last week, and I managed to make an A in my class! <br /><br />Without further ado, some pictures of Nathaniel. <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWBTUccBK75vC-ia8vs5JtnGG16Lkqm0jogzBD0Fd-nhvHBl2yw8SvUlLu0tvbsJjtOZVXfrVCjCbu7mVqEtuIAQTyIVEBw5o_leaWDH2gnP0lWF2e89e6cO_wcskdBBeB4iDry8e24hY/s1600/DSC01792.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWBTUccBK75vC-ia8vs5JtnGG16Lkqm0jogzBD0Fd-nhvHBl2yw8SvUlLu0tvbsJjtOZVXfrVCjCbu7mVqEtuIAQTyIVEBw5o_leaWDH2gnP0lWF2e89e6cO_wcskdBBeB4iDry8e24hY/s400/DSC01792.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550293367378483890" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC6fLRXfqWhrBxGE3itUvjW8t1mqvgpWuolU-DNftkwBw9ex70IfX6G4tQT0C9sxeGcQlyyvvtmlu7FFbH3N4us8vU5NLRUWfmI80tjU_rvLrfa67D4agMcjR7D1ZqLsbs9Jb61NaOVh8/s1600/DSC01802.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC6fLRXfqWhrBxGE3itUvjW8t1mqvgpWuolU-DNftkwBw9ex70IfX6G4tQT0C9sxeGcQlyyvvtmlu7FFbH3N4us8vU5NLRUWfmI80tjU_rvLrfa67D4agMcjR7D1ZqLsbs9Jb61NaOVh8/s400/DSC01802.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550293363208982930" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFsEcaP2m-W6ADIAWE7GPwB-kJsy-iq4B6V91_F7Tf1X7VwD9KXDSYrgIZuN6mZ7YpT8KcxFH5BGLZ8VzjSG1XopppvtRdnMI2CTMv0A801uc5f-cObtJ5kuoYMtJGxFVEFYZVTAT1Yw/s1600/DSC01811.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFsEcaP2m-W6ADIAWE7GPwB-kJsy-iq4B6V91_F7Tf1X7VwD9KXDSYrgIZuN6mZ7YpT8KcxFH5BGLZ8VzjSG1XopppvtRdnMI2CTMv0A801uc5f-cObtJ5kuoYMtJGxFVEFYZVTAT1Yw/s400/DSC01811.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550293375632018722" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixY27ElSYORahpHNPiQrkbHQhWFnZxUldhtRxmpbL67aswWFkV3TUbkPw95pe97MpSUjsmNI_OhuuockVHsLNDZptyEYs0MiGN5cWljZQyw_Byic0M6x3F6mRDlUgPHOstvA1IeqomavU/s1600/DSC01814.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixY27ElSYORahpHNPiQrkbHQhWFnZxUldhtRxmpbL67aswWFkV3TUbkPw95pe97MpSUjsmNI_OhuuockVHsLNDZptyEYs0MiGN5cWljZQyw_Byic0M6x3F6mRDlUgPHOstvA1IeqomavU/s400/DSC01814.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550293380770863858" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAClmQKiJqH9Mfdq-M6HCBSAObzmOtjL8Xlpu_oQWau06QBHComB1-z6WFppLRMOCHRcaSruNvY1BTipAlf6YQCF-4G44nINwkAva9JzzTA5ntDIH7JBpY8n5-nQuyVhK3So3k0HBpVt0/s1600/DSC01825.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAClmQKiJqH9Mfdq-M6HCBSAObzmOtjL8Xlpu_oQWau06QBHComB1-z6WFppLRMOCHRcaSruNvY1BTipAlf6YQCF-4G44nINwkAva9JzzTA5ntDIH7JBpY8n5-nQuyVhK3So3k0HBpVt0/s400/DSC01825.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550295848058320066" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0QzJ_WpOcI9u_xaifGB-F5X30AUokQWI4EtPdYxeaj3Oihmp57IEzCRvUokn2pZUm42tCi5fWk6XEe398UMgPo2Pt3rfTJYI9mXGOUPG_78DT86Pts40ZH8fQwgyZICbL4RWa4RGYuYw/s1600/DSC01836.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0QzJ_WpOcI9u_xaifGB-F5X30AUokQWI4EtPdYxeaj3Oihmp57IEzCRvUokn2pZUm42tCi5fWk6XEe398UMgPo2Pt3rfTJYI9mXGOUPG_78DT86Pts40ZH8fQwgyZICbL4RWa4RGYuYw/s400/DSC01836.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550293997047529458" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig1sZw0_02fCcp6bIdN7Kj1l81NjXkTEs_qk9YTbi9sKZNpVIbInAy7Aa3p7op7ZwGwIaaol92wOKsfFeVGncVqtN2mGEXreo06l-ge2MFwqOplHJVdc_tuLS3XzKTOmVzdqME3XRv_g4/s1600/DSC01852.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig1sZw0_02fCcp6bIdN7Kj1l81NjXkTEs_qk9YTbi9sKZNpVIbInAy7Aa3p7op7ZwGwIaaol92wOKsfFeVGncVqtN2mGEXreo06l-ge2MFwqOplHJVdc_tuLS3XzKTOmVzdqME3XRv_g4/s400/DSC01852.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550294008602074962" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBqpiN2u_CiqmkDOz_XHubtbOQ_kvOVS3Gmys3X0YXNa7tXkGe1eBwHYVNDqd3P8d5rOv-caXq8Od-o-oChbg2qwtVYTqs55NPkHd0HlRdcOKSUHpcgXhLvo3PkrZ_ynfu5Fp0pX69bDI/s1600/DSC01851.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBqpiN2u_CiqmkDOz_XHubtbOQ_kvOVS3Gmys3X0YXNa7tXkGe1eBwHYVNDqd3P8d5rOv-caXq8Od-o-oChbg2qwtVYTqs55NPkHd0HlRdcOKSUHpcgXhLvo3PkrZ_ynfu5Fp0pX69bDI/s400/DSC01851.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550293999601322914" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1E0Etzmd9q5qElsW2RWu7XatUgBIdWEzbYJlds9NOVRBfk-W_wmsSxUrHzDgqBIk07KkBVE2vXPpQuIIf1_78jhcn-Q26FYcbW6hnjKRBF_nz3OZLn_vUMiiljFESuC1R3lRNPG5UH4g/s1600/DSC01832.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1E0Etzmd9q5qElsW2RWu7XatUgBIdWEzbYJlds9NOVRBfk-W_wmsSxUrHzDgqBIk07KkBVE2vXPpQuIIf1_78jhcn-Q26FYcbW6hnjKRBF_nz3OZLn_vUMiiljFESuC1R3lRNPG5UH4g/s400/DSC01832.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550293388841495218" /></a>Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-6962145485022802822010-11-29T19:59:00.000-08:002010-11-29T20:31:17.608-08:00Nathaniel Is Here!Nathaniel Christopher is here and he's perfectly healthy! He was born via c-section at 2:41 pm on Sunday. I went into labor around 1:30 am Sunday morning, but my contractions weren't close enough together to head to the hospital until 8 am. It was a long wait! Unfortunately, my labor slowed dramatically around 1 pm and the doctor was concerned that Nathaniel was no longer getting enough oxygen from the placenta. I had really hoped for a VBAC this time around, but the doctor said he had a nagging feeling that Nathaniel wasn't going to do well if my labor continued so slowly. I wasn't happy about the c-section, but of course, there was no question that the baby's well-being came first. <br />We're all doing well right now. I'm sore, but this time around has been nothing like the first. I'm moving around much better and feeling like I might actually heal sooner. Hopefully, we'll be taking the little guy home on Wednesday. I'll post more pictures soon. <br /><br /><br /> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFfhgRwUa_jveih1dpsi8KYqN8JTkKiBeKV930BmXgY9ETDkkq57Lm-9rDFJt53HlxFZiUbu6yDJKfHi0lD7g3UgXG9rb4nJTcEccghpbp4Ndj0bG6Gz5K8BLqHkHhel_4rXJxmlyRF4/s1600/DSC01709.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFfhgRwUa_jveih1dpsi8KYqN8JTkKiBeKV930BmXgY9ETDkkq57Lm-9rDFJt53HlxFZiUbu6yDJKfHi0lD7g3UgXG9rb4nJTcEccghpbp4Ndj0bG6Gz5K8BLqHkHhel_4rXJxmlyRF4/s400/DSC01709.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545189999024047586" /></a> Nathaniel's first moment on earth. <br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8tW4pRYHQ81g71sBZNjSiNrmHSyHg_T_94X0It5TL7KcLg1DZbZ-enKvF0YUsKBDnZer5CygB-z5LGAqBEOhQn1ndNSwoinGdaF3n1rIE5yCk_mVkJQSnse6BAGloEIFQjegCZdUNdoM/s1600/DSC01733.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8tW4pRYHQ81g71sBZNjSiNrmHSyHg_T_94X0It5TL7KcLg1DZbZ-enKvF0YUsKBDnZer5CygB-z5LGAqBEOhQn1ndNSwoinGdaF3n1rIE5yCk_mVkJQSnse6BAGloEIFQjegCZdUNdoM/s400/DSC01733.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545193334775832978" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR67sChPdEehOkJSr4zE7mSaOB4MX-4hwyaCioJo-gSFJO5Abo8DNfjelujMMdLrHCh6vEw5Ip_Uts24VygNQs-HH6QgPYTZFu9dn8uzykxy9jlh-K0IqoXHYCkRD-pyDWAgyTqCLELz4/s1600/DSC01765.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR67sChPdEehOkJSr4zE7mSaOB4MX-4hwyaCioJo-gSFJO5Abo8DNfjelujMMdLrHCh6vEw5Ip_Uts24VygNQs-HH6QgPYTZFu9dn8uzykxy9jlh-K0IqoXHYCkRD-pyDWAgyTqCLELz4/s400/DSC01765.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545193669165781170" /></a> Looking a little like Mr. Magoo!Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-82641157962501461262010-11-12T15:49:00.000-08:002010-11-12T16:03:23.924-08:0038 weeks!I'm doing well and things seem to be progressing normally with the little guy. The doctor says she thinks he won't be a very large baby, maybe 7.5 pounds. I'm okay with that as long as he's healthy! I know she could also be wrong with her estimate, but we'll find out soon enough. I'm feeling all the normal aches and pains, and I'm extremely swollen. But those are really my only complaints! I'm almost finished with this semester too. Part of me hopes Nathaniel will hold out until I'm done. Unfortunately, that means he would have to wait until Dec. 7, and for some reason, I don't see that happening. <br /><br />I had to post this picture just because Risi is in the background.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSg2CtJsqaER40aLxkPOUkAkt1WMDkrRFuaMdwb7IWjTGs1foEalnZ2-ae4dWHSlrKY5K-gdqOEkJG2J-hEv_RCJXeH3IPZtIujrdA2suFHjN19vUweCAs0y62sS6173PpDAyYp2BSAJk/s1600/DSC01700.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 297px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSg2CtJsqaER40aLxkPOUkAkt1WMDkrRFuaMdwb7IWjTGs1foEalnZ2-ae4dWHSlrKY5K-gdqOEkJG2J-hEv_RCJXeH3IPZtIujrdA2suFHjN19vUweCAs0y62sS6173PpDAyYp2BSAJk/s400/DSC01700.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538817934193325218" /></a>Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-20924387024826011722010-11-12T15:42:00.001-08:002010-11-12T15:49:38.631-08:00Faux ThanksgivingCJay and I decided to have Thanksgiving last weekend. I was saying that we might not have turkey and dressing this year for obvious reasons, and I was really going to miss the feast. CJay suggested we go ahead with the dinner. I cooked all day and couldn't walk by 7:30, but we had fun pigging out at our faux Thanksgiving.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1p7WnP6Rdf57i-UgWYvEZCGF5BH15UWny4WHrj1FeFENjXsO8G5rGczut4pr1f265E9GulGNhyphenhyphenQ3E2JktEwxO0qbUfmA9tx_J2o0AIYJnFFiEohII1NRckK9qlAumCucyyJMfi9ttH-o/s1600/DSC01695.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1p7WnP6Rdf57i-UgWYvEZCGF5BH15UWny4WHrj1FeFENjXsO8G5rGczut4pr1f265E9GulGNhyphenhyphenQ3E2JktEwxO0qbUfmA9tx_J2o0AIYJnFFiEohII1NRckK9qlAumCucyyJMfi9ttH-o/s400/DSC01695.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538813528971725538" /></a>Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-62719784059171865142010-10-25T17:12:00.001-07:002010-10-25T17:34:41.077-07:00PicturesI don't like having my picture taken on a good day, which makes pregnancy pictures even less exciting for me. But for the sake of posterity, or something like that, I have been taking belly pictures. (I'm refraining from posting the ones where I'm making faces, but I do have a lot of those.) I hope you all really, really appreciate these! <br /><br /><br />30 weeks<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgN0zFde050ewMR88EdF-kwUquGvbP_Fd1e6U4o-gy_V7iouWFmRbPRjFjOWSoBfIm38grfKsGIS5SaifWzUwD2LtjL_Ls1i5cxLHwGX4W-42sax6m6LlJDm3PWY508z2O6WY5Mymz7EE/s1600/DSC01655.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgN0zFde050ewMR88EdF-kwUquGvbP_Fd1e6U4o-gy_V7iouWFmRbPRjFjOWSoBfIm38grfKsGIS5SaifWzUwD2LtjL_Ls1i5cxLHwGX4W-42sax6m6LlJDm3PWY508z2O6WY5Mymz7EE/s400/DSC01655.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532144690154925186" /></a><br /><br /><br />32 weeks<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeSHsqpiRrE-_F4M_hECet6ONp9woYFY3z8Kvbv6BPgEm5ar_JacwWVMmMBF2AGiX1bpkJxESpOYV8N-ipSGMR90Ie3LbOPW_6Wcr5hRXoUUp8XaHL8giagngXNpS_37uo9S1ULeRPDG0/s1600/DSC01671.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 190px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeSHsqpiRrE-_F4M_hECet6ONp9woYFY3z8Kvbv6BPgEm5ar_JacwWVMmMBF2AGiX1bpkJxESpOYV8N-ipSGMR90Ie3LbOPW_6Wcr5hRXoUUp8XaHL8giagngXNpS_37uo9S1ULeRPDG0/s400/DSC01671.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532146532518475058" /></a><br /> <br /><br />35.5 weeks<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9ORiiMmb9leJ5LrHb25zicRg78OUNqozgrNcryQ-B6XnDeJtKUW2ChD6a1Y_ZFZJp0plIfIRxJruZSvCUuH3rmCtxjbfK__-EQmVuf58YghiFIxzruH1b4qy-06in4TbtpfvmtN950MM/s1600/DSC01678.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9ORiiMmb9leJ5LrHb25zicRg78OUNqozgrNcryQ-B6XnDeJtKUW2ChD6a1Y_ZFZJp0plIfIRxJruZSvCUuH3rmCtxjbfK__-EQmVuf58YghiFIxzruH1b4qy-06in4TbtpfvmtN950MM/s400/DSC01678.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532145296610390034" /></a>Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-35320995612350846742010-10-05T12:41:00.000-07:002010-10-05T17:08:31.977-07:00CourageCourage is a first step, but simply to bear the blow bravely is not enough. Stoicism is courageous, but it is only a halfway house on the long road. It is a shield, permissible for a short time only. In the end, one has to discard shields and remain open and vulnerable. Otherwise, scar tissue will seal off the wound and no growth will follow. To grow, to be reborn, one must remain vulnerable - open to love but also hideously open to the possibility of more suffering.<br /><br />- Anne Morrow Lindbergh from <span style="font-style:italic;">Hour of Gold, Hour of Lead</span><br /><br /><br /><br />When I told people I was pregnant again, someone called me courageous. Courageous. I remember thanking her but thinking "courage will only get me so far." I suppose courage really is the first step. It took courage to decide to try for another baby, but courage isn't enough. As the days pass and Nathaniel's arrival draws nearer, I struggle with what I know now: life's last breath in your arms, death of a newborn, profound grief. <br /><br />Immediately after Isaac's birth and death, I knew I wanted another child, but that certainty waned as the grief grew. The first days afterwards aren't the worst. You might think they are, but as the days pass, your brain begins to comprehend the magnitude of what's happened. And you're hit again and again and again with the pain. I considered the possibility of never having another child because of the pain. I couldn't imagine being pregnant again and facing life's harshest reality. That burden would surely be too big to bear. At times I still think I'm crazy. Crazy to be pregnant again and know life has no guarantees—that living through a tragedy doesn't stop tragedy from finding us again. And yet here we are 7 weeks away from Nathaniel's due date. <br /><br />I suppose all this is why I'm so drawn to Lindbergh's words. I had my shield up for some time and now I'm vulnerable and hideously open to the possibility of more suffering. But I'm ready. More ready than I thought I would be. Whatever the outcome and as much as I want a perfectly healthy child, I'm ready.Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-59255173003582792332010-08-29T14:51:00.000-07:002010-08-29T15:10:06.740-07:0027.5 weeksWe had another ultrasound on Monday and all is still well with the little guy. This pregnancy seems to be going much faster than the last, but I'm assuming it's because we're not living under the same strain. I've been carrying pretty small, even though the baby is measuring in the 71st percentile for weight. That's about 2 weeks ahead. We'll see if that means he comes 2 weeks early! (I'm not sure how I feel about that just yet!) <br /><br /><br />Here's a shot from the last ultrasound in July. The baby is 21.5 weeks.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3sep2PUPfNHtdhypuoEo1CWT5ktsygXEK7IWDOOS1vUPZYB-voS1zgl6gw_1NirsHQMRtMY9f6LfU7-kt0qFEZ6iln6-plkoVlTyd7aFDcAVCOBLyXBXu_SC57F_WSyNnClKMQCGHlFQ/s1600/DSC01618.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3sep2PUPfNHtdhypuoEo1CWT5ktsygXEK7IWDOOS1vUPZYB-voS1zgl6gw_1NirsHQMRtMY9f6LfU7-kt0qFEZ6iln6-plkoVlTyd7aFDcAVCOBLyXBXu_SC57F_WSyNnClKMQCGHlFQ/s400/DSC01618.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510954844521389378" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />These are from Monday's photo shoot. 26.5 weeks. The top photo is the baby's nose and mouth. I hope you can see it! <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmo65keUS8eQ3bakjzggCbyS7SCHaND6zrttwEd2oJSDkpzmcu0U3ZVKT7ldThrewwmGQ5evLGIrizNied3zoA14E4zxyUlJ0CdapzDnTV5X9M83761HdhDe8w8qMOhh7NQTLMZtqEuE/s1600/DSC01632.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmo65keUS8eQ3bakjzggCbyS7SCHaND6zrttwEd2oJSDkpzmcu0U3ZVKT7ldThrewwmGQ5evLGIrizNied3zoA14E4zxyUlJ0CdapzDnTV5X9M83761HdhDe8w8qMOhh7NQTLMZtqEuE/s400/DSC01632.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510954857221557106" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtzGP7l7nuOGwprG4uD1QxyvYIIrbt3a50eQDFkA4ULHB9NhfSLs44wDuVyTVXH-6cvFmJ7OyGYt7F1O9THr_7Plo6tsxfiE0aARhMO7ALOEtdghC76WDYqpJHcsVDyQycZ4kwrghZdM/s1600/DSC01631.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtzGP7l7nuOGwprG4uD1QxyvYIIrbt3a50eQDFkA4ULHB9NhfSLs44wDuVyTVXH-6cvFmJ7OyGYt7F1O9THr_7Plo6tsxfiE0aARhMO7ALOEtdghC76WDYqpJHcsVDyQycZ4kwrghZdM/s400/DSC01631.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510954850991555298" /></a><br /><br /><br />And finally, the belly shot. I know I'm not smiling but it's the best CJay got before I lost patience. What can I say? Pregnancy, weight gain, hormones - who wants pictures taken?? <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFi2S4ad3xox6HLEDy0tWc8uUyarMnmqU0lgPz0cVLaoiK4p8yMc-y0f7tu7_zM9WQCwADqIh4u5qxIeLN-Dgxy7ZpJrqoKMASuVd-LUnW_ZOdbPke4bLLJ_XrLi2paElsiBzF4ZXHO0/s1600/DSC01640.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFi2S4ad3xox6HLEDy0tWc8uUyarMnmqU0lgPz0cVLaoiK4p8yMc-y0f7tu7_zM9WQCwADqIh4u5qxIeLN-Dgxy7ZpJrqoKMASuVd-LUnW_ZOdbPke4bLLJ_XrLi2paElsiBzF4ZXHO0/s400/DSC01640.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510954866482729090" /></a><br /><br /><br />** The painting of Isaac above my head was my Mother's Day gift from my mom, who has maintained a tight lip on her exceptional artistic abilities. She painted Isaac's portrait after almost 30 years without picking up a paintbrush. (I'm still shocked by that. 30 years!?) As you can see, it's an awesome painting and the picture doesn't even do it justice!Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-74967205621289702202010-08-09T17:26:00.001-07:002010-08-09T18:20:05.654-07:006 months (and feelings)All is going well with baby Nathaniel. We had another ultrasound at 22 weeks and the doctor once again assured us that everything looked perfect. I know it's good news (wonderful news), but I don't believe it. Ok, I don't intend to sound like Negative Nancy here, but I just can't fully believe that this child is healthy. That he'll come home with us. That he'll even be "normal." People say they understand that I don't want to get attached. It's a way to protect myself. Tell me how a mother isn't automatically attached to the child growing inside her? Maybe there's a way, but I sure don't know it. The truth is that I'm not trying to stay unattached. I'm trying to deal with this world's harsh reality: babies die. My baby died. I have to brace myself. <br /><br />To even consider getting pregnant again was a leap of faith. I'm sure anyone who's lost a child would agree with that. You're actually signing up with the understanding that it could happen again. And this time, you know how much it's gonna hurt. That's really where CJay and I are now. We dance around the idea of having a son to bring home, but we quickly withdraw our excitement. I'd like to save it all. Save it all for when Nathaniel is born and he's pink and healthy and screaming. Then I'll exhale. <br /><br />I'm not saying I'm expecting something bad to happen with this pregnancy or that I think this child will be sick or die. On the contrary, there are times when I think he's going to be fine. He's going to grow up and drive us nuts. Of course that's what I hope and pray for every minute, but I want to hold on tight right now and not forget where I've been. Babies die. Babies live. We don't get to chose. <br /><br />I don't want you to think I'm down or unhappy. I'm not. I'm incredibly thankful to be pregnant again, and I've enjoyed all the little kicks and punches so far. It's just impossible to ignore the grief that sneaks in through the happy moments. I miss Isaac, and this pregnancy reminds me even more so of his absence. I'm trying to remember everyday to be thankful for this son and remember one of the important lessons that Isaac taught me: he's worth whatever lies ahead.Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6825388263809063818.post-50094215598862905762010-07-07T17:18:00.000-07:002010-07-07T18:20:50.964-07:00How nursing chose meWhen I was a kid, my mom was a home health nurse. There were times when she had no choice but to take my brothers and me with her to visit a patient. Most of the time we stayed in the car and waited on her, but on occasion she would say a particular patient wouldn't mind if we came inside. I have vivid memories of those homes. We lived in a small mountain town, and my mom visited people who lived, literally, on the side of the mountain. I remember dirty trailers, scrawny dogs, dirty dishes, and bugs. But most of all, I remember the first time I watched my mom clean someone's tracheostomy. The time I saw her clean someone who had an "accident." The first time I saw her help someone out of a wheelchair and even when I helped her brush a lady's long hair. You might think this is why I'd like to be a nurse now, but in fact, these are the very reasons why I decided not to go into nursing in college. (In all fairness, the number of chemistry classes turned me off to the idea just as much!) Honestly, I said I would never be okay with cleaning up vomit and poop or touching infected pussy wounds. No thanks! What is that old cliche? Right, never say never. <br /><br />Finding my calling wasn't so easy. Finding my calling meant I had to survive my son's death. As excruciating as losing Isaac was, it brought me here. I believe the reason I came to this decision and can see it so clearly now is due to my time spent with my counselor. Don't ask me how because it was a process. A long, long process. But when I started thinking that I'd like to do something else with my life, I knew rather quickly that nursing was calling. When I began looking at programs and classes, the pieces fit. <br /><br />I've always respected nurses, and I've always spoken highly of them. I'm always proud to say that my mother's a nurse. The truth was that it took losing my son to realize what it meant to be a nurse. When I recounted the story with my counselor (in the way only a counselor can make you pull out details and thread them together one by one), one thing always stood out: the nurses. The NICU nurses. My labor and delivery nurse. The nurse who cried as I spoke of Isaac. My neighbor, who has been a NICU nurse for more than 20 years, came to the hospital when she was supposed to be on vacation simply because I asked that she be there to take out Isaac's breathing tube. She didn't have to be there, but she was. My L&D nurse came to my room the day after Isaac's birth and told me she couldn't sleep thinking about us and Isaac. She cried with us. <br /><br />I have so many stories of those nurses who cared for Isaac. They mourned with us and made us feel as if our child, our situation, was just as difficult for them as it was for us. They were patient and sincere. These experiences completed the picture that began with my mother so many years ago. The part I couldn't grasp as a child, I can understand now. My mother was first and foremost caring for people. Her priority was always their well-being. Spending the most difficult time of my life with so many wonderful nurses made it clear. A nurse will clean up vomit. She will bathe smelly people and wipe poop. But that isn't what completes the nurse. The real nurse is there for you, for your mom, your brother, or your child when your emotions are overwhelming. When you're not even sure if you'll breath again, a nurse will show you how. A nurse can hold your hand and cry for you and give you strength you didn't know you had. What an honorable profession. What an amazing way to change someone's life. <br /><br />In the midst of all my pain, this is how nursing chose me. I just didn't know it until now.Whitneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17630681000846731449noreply@blogger.com2