Bennett’s first bedroom. I chalked that sign a few days after I found out I was pregnant. It has now been through two moves and still hangs (slightly smudged) on his wall now.

I’ve mentioned on FB before how pretty much everything Bennett does is up to him. He has shown me in soooooo many ways that I have to let some of the control go.

I tried and prayed for years for him. I know I already had 3 other perfect kids, but I wanted 4 from the beginning. After an unplanned c-section, the first thing I asked was what the acceptable number of repeat cesearians was.  While the answer was 4, and confirmed by further OBs, they also scare you into thinking it’s not a good idea. I cried and grieved and was angry for a long time with my first OB for what I felt was his fault (induction). Fast forward to unplanned baby #3 (and OB #3 who agreed with the recommendations that 4 cesearians was the max, but sometimes it’s limited to 3). So, to be on the safe side, I signed consent to have a tubal ligation with baby #3 IF it didn’t appear that a 4th would be healthy from her perspective once I was in surgery. Well, she said it looked good and i could eventually try for a 4th.

The 3 kiddos were hard. They were so close in age and it flew by so fast that I really felt I missed out on so much with them, so I wanted to wait a while so I could enjoy them more and then devote more time to a baby if it happened.

Two years later, I was ready. It didn’t happen.  Then it didn’t happen. Then it still didn’t happen. A year later I was at the doctor being advised to see a fertility specialist. Fertility issues? I had 3 babies in 3.5 years and #3 was totally unplanned! After months of testing, it was decided we had <10% chance of conceiving naturally. Options were discussed and I did all the back work for possible IVF, potentially to start while he was deployed.

Well, Justin left Jan 6, 2015 for the last work up before deployment. Jan 13, 2015, I found out I was pregnant. Talk about a giant detour. He came home for two weeks in February, then set off for a 9 month deployment on March 5, 2015. He would miss the whole thing, including the birth.

2015 was the hardest year of my life and also probably one of my most defining. Just like my #3 pregnancy, I was sick immediately. I had surmised, along with the Previous OBs, that the cause of my sickness (hyperemesis gravidarum) with #3 was my gallbladder. I had it removed after, so I was SURE this was going to be easier.  I have never been more wrong or more sick.

I was alone with 3 kids and I was sick and it lasted up to the minute I gave birth. I cried for at least an hour every day, and the phrase that I repeated and cried to was “What if it never gets better?” I laid in my bathroom so many nights not sure what to do – I had 3 kids sleeping but it was just me. Many times I was sure I needed to be at the hospital.

For 7 months, my kids only ate meals of fruit and lunch meat (no smell), items I could make in less than 3 min, or they ate Chick-fil-A or at the pool. They learned to put themselves to bed (sadly). They stayed at school pretty much for all of before and after care.  They fed the dogs for me because I couldn’t even look at dog food or their water bowls. They were bigger troopers than me – Natalie was 7, Meredith was 5/6, and Wesley was 3/4.

At 16 weeks, I had an unsettling ultrasound and out-of-range labs. They sent me to the high risk OB/neonatalogists. A whole gammet of possible issues were thrown at me very matter-of-fact. But since I was already struggling to eat and survive, I refused an amnio because I didn’t want to risk any complications. Every possible test outside of that that could be done was and with that we got no definitive answers. Just more and more worries. The debilitating pain/sickness/weakness of the nausea/vomiting, plus the worries of the unknown for baby, plus worrying about my husband on deployment flying in the middle of the ocean, plus the 3 older kids was almost more than I could handle. “What if it never gets better?”

I took Zofran around the clock (was denied a continuous pump of zofran twice by tricare because, well, its tricare). I took phenergan and reglan on top of it. I stood in the shower for at least an hour a day (split morning and night) in blazing hot water because it was the only relief I could get. And I prayed and prayed and prayed for him (I didn’t know he was a “him” until he was born). I prayed constantly, but never for myself, only for him. I was sure I was failing him. I couldn’t nourish him because I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t take vitamins, and I was taking a bunch of medicines with scary warnings during pregnancy. I carried my St Gerard prayer with me everywhere and repeated multiple times a day. I prayed so much for him.

August 8/9, 2015, my water broke roughly 7 weeks early…on a Sunday in the middle of the night (two days after I forced the doctors office to schedule a c-section for Sept 17 while Justin was supposed to be in port so he could maybe be on skype – you know what happens when you make plans) I call a friend, no answer. I wait a little longer and call back. Thank GOD for her. She was at my house by 6 am. Hospital tells me it’s not broken and sends me home. Following night same thing but worse. Get up and throw my kids in the car at 7 am on a Monday morning in summer and quite literally throw them out the door into the drop off daycare (thank goodness for that too!). “I’ll be back by lunch, kids!” Yeah right. Thankful for quick acting parents and good friends who drop everything to be there. Once at the hospital, they decide that since there were no contractions, I would stay there on bedrest until he was 34 weeks.

August 13 – scheduled c section with Justin on the phone from the ship in the middle of th ocean. He comes out at a whopping 5 lbs 2 oz, which is a miracle considering how little nutrition I was able to provide.

Brand new. Daddy got to hear the whole thing via phone (though it was really hard to hold my arm up the whole time 😉)

He was born around12:45 and I got to hold him by 3 am the next morning. He was so little!

He was perfect. He didn’t need any breathing support or IV feeds. He slept all day and never cried and got to go home at 1 week! After we got home, he still slept all day because he was so little and I would have to set alarms to feed him. He slept on my chest for 6 more weeks until daddy got home (he got to come home 6 weeks early!)

Everything about my pregnancy and his birth was out of my control. While I haven’t totally learned to relinquish some control, that year – my pregnancy and his birth- opened my eyes to what is out of my hands. It is not my time, it is His. I still struggle daily with wanting to control pretty much everything, but as I sit and prepare for Bennett’s second birthday, I realize he was sent to me to show me JUST that. Bennett will continue to rule my life and play to the beat of his own drum. He’ll keep loving on that bottle until kindergarten (kidding!). He’s a little rough-and-tumble bulldozer that keeps me on my toes and refuses to follow my will 😬. But most importantly, he completed our family.

“For this child I have prayed” still hanging out in Bennett’s room today