A Baby Story

“We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps.” Proverbs 16:9

      In December, we were tickled to begin preparing for a baby girl. Totally normal, right?! I was 18 weeks pregnant when we “found out.” Despite the excitement, we felt a strong urge to announce with caution. During our first ultrasound, the tech guessed that it was a girl, but said, “It’s still a tiny baby.” Well, being in Puerto Rico, and having that language barrier (I’m so SLOW aprendiendo espanol!), I left the office in tears because I just wanted to know before headed home for Christmas to have a gender-reveal with family and friends. We couldn’t have another ultrasound without a prescription, and the doctor wouldn’t give us a prescription because there was no need. The baby was healthy. Praise God, of course, but I was desperate to know! 

     The week before we set to fly out for the holidays, my husband had an idea. We work in a hospital, so why not ask a doctor for a prescription. We do favors for each other all the time, right? After lunch, we headed to the ER because it didn’t look too busy and one of the doctors was there that was also receiving treatment from John at the time. Right when she said she’d give me a prescription, my doula’s assistant (my doula is a nurse at the hospital) came and grabbed my arm, saying, “Hollie is pregnant! Quieres sonogram?!” Our hospital’s radiology hasn’t been open because we don’t have a radiologist on staff, but we had students there that week and an ultrasound tech trying to train them with a DINOSAUR age machine. Of course I wanted a sonogram! At one point, I think there were up to 10 people in the room!! Some students, some nurses, an ER doctor, and the list goes on. They looked and looked for some proof of gender, and ended up agreeing with the guess of the previous tech because they couldn’t see anything going against it. They never saw the definitive “girl” parts, but everyone reassured us that after two techs “guessing” this baby was surely a girl, and we should prepare for team pink! Goodness, our baby was modest!

John didn't think to take a picture until the room had cleared out a little,
but there were more folks in there before!

      So, we announced, but we insisted all major things remain gender neutral. This was not only because we were not 100% sure, but also because we’d like to have more than one child, and if a stroller and high chair and other big items can last us, then let them last us!

December 2012 Brookwood Shower

This is the frame I used to announce to parents.

      Fast forward…I was given a prescription for an ultrasound around 30 weeks. Just to clarify, most OBGYN’s here do not have anything in their offices. I do all blood work and radiology at different places—hence why a prescription is needed. Anyway, I had a little anxiety because I felt like baby hadn’t been moving as much as usual, but we were in San Sebastian getting some insurance training from some friends and couldn’t have the ultrasound that day. I told my friend about my anxiety and that we had to wait until after the weekend to have an ultrasound, and she said, “No, you don’t!” Her office is in a hospital like ours, and their hospital has a running radiology department. So, we walked down for a general ultrasound just to check on everything. The tech heard us saying “she” while referring to the baby, but apparently saw some contradictory evidence at the very beginning of the sonogram. We heard her ask, “Que piensan del bebe?” We didn’t think anything about it. Then, a little later, the tech pointed to the screen, and my friend said, “Yes, I saw that too…” 

                “Saw what?” I said. 

                “Kind of looks like a nut.” Our friend said. Hilarious now, I know. Not so much at the time. The tech had me moving from side to side to try and get a good view because, she later told us, she didn’t want to tell us we were having a boy unless she had some hard evidence. Finally, the tech blurted out the only thing she said in English the whole time, “It’s a boy.”

                “Are you serious?!” rang out from me and John!! “Like, we’re sure?! 100%??” In Spanish, the tech said, “If it’s not a boy, you can sue me.” Again, hilarious now. Not so much then. Not that we were disappointed, but that we were shocked! This poor little boy in my belly has been being called a baby girl for 3 months!

                We ultimately had a lot of fun calling family members to let them know the “change.” And, once again, God revealed that His plan is so much bigger than ours. He keeps us on our toes, and insists we trust in Him. Since then, we have had one more ultrasound that really confirmed we have a big boy on the way, and we couldn’t be more thrilled! God has continued to provide as well because we did have A LOT of girl clothes. Stores like Carter’s and Sam’s have been wonderful and helpful while exchanging our girl outfits for boy ones even when we didn’t have receipts. All of what I bought at consignment stores for great prices, I was able to give to a friend who has a 3 month old baby girl here, and God has already provided all the boy clothes we could need for, at least, the first 6 months with some that go beyond that.

 

Sweet Shower in Rincon

 

With one of the students

Sweet hostesses!

This girl has been a lifesaver! She has a beautiful 3-month-old herself!

How big is the belly?

Some of the ladies toasting with cupcakes!

First little sneakers :)

And to end...name that chocolate poo! So funny!

                This weekend, the gracious church we attend here, Church Without Walls, threw us a beautiful shower Saturday for a baby BOY, and God confirmed again that He truly determines all of our steps. And, really, I’m so glad He does. He does such a better job than I could do. Now, if only I could always remember that. God bless.

 

 

 

The Grandfolks

           A few Sundays ago, Grandma had a fall at around 4:00 a.m. That’s a fairly reliable potty/baby-in-belly awake time for me, so I was up. John and I heard a noise, so he dressed and went outside…nothing. He went back to bed, and then we heard Grandpa open his house door and call for us. It was the same scene we’d experienced several times since moving here. She’d gotten up to go to the bathroom, fell (in the same spot of Grandpa’s previous falls), and hit her head (in the same spot as Grandpa’s previous head-hits). I mopped with bleach, John bandaged with an old undershirt of mine, and he determined that she was well enough that we could take her to the hospital ourselves without calling 911. She ended up with a bump on her head and soreness all over. Otherwise, she was fine.
            I tell you what…I have to remind myself often these folks are not invincible because after surgeries, accidents, and trauma they walk and talk just fine!
            Just last week, we had a morning episode when Grandma’s blood sugar dropped pretty low. Grandpa called us over (at 2:00 in the morning this time), and she wasn’t coherent enough to take the spoon of maple syrup without a fight. An hour later, after juice, apple sauce, and bread with butter, she was back to her normal self. Completely able to complain about Grandpa yelling at all times of the night…after which we scolded her because that “yelling” had kept her from completely bottoming out! She also said he accused her of not knowing how to take her own blood sugar, and, again, we told her that an hour ago she couldn’t! He was right, and she needed to give him credit for it!
          Grandpa’s doing fine. He has had a streak of independence. Sometimes when he asks to be dropped off places to visit with buddies or run errands, I think surely that is how it must feel dropping a teenager at the movies for the first time. A little pride. A little concern. One day, I came home and noticed his hair was shorter than the morning I had left. When I approached him about it, he just smiled. He had walked to town by himself to get his hair cut!! He said that when he arrived, the barber wouldn’t let him walk home until someone agreed to walk with him. Even though our faces were those of shock, there was nothing but a smile on his. John and I had to gently scold the 80-year-old man while expressing he did a good job at the same time. Something like, “We’re proud of you for walking that far, but don’t do it again!!” Complete with the index finger waving at him. It’s an interesting balance.
         Xena has been another source of therapy for them both. It’s morning routine for her to play with Grandpa on the patio while I clean before lunch. Grandma doesn’t like her, but I’ve come to learn that Grandma likes not liking things. It’s taken me almost a year, but I’ve finally convinced her to stop buying the individual serving boxes of Honeynut Cheerios because they’re so much more expensive. The regular cereal boxes have the same food inside. This week…wait for it…not only did she buy a regular size box of the cereal, she even bought an off-brand! If only I could adequately express how big of an accomplishment that is for an OCD woman extremely set in her ways! I now know every ounce of that in my dad comes from her, and I, unfortunately, am influenced by them both! It’s a good thing the Lord makes a daily point to emphasize flexibility in our lives.
        We are getting ready to move, and we’re having to really prepare both grandparents for the change…even though we’re only moving across the street. Remember, we’re also getting ready to have a baby, and that’s going to be change for them as well. Oh no, TWO changes at ONE time! We’re in the brainstorming process of how communication will work when those middle-of-the-night incidents occur. Walkie talkies? Baby monitor? Quick-dial on the house phone? We praise God that we are not necessary caregivers in terms of daily activities. We are just caregivers in terms of being taxi drivers, food delivery people, laundry helpers, dish washers, etc. They are capable of doing most of those things for themselves, it’s just faster and more efficient when we do it for them—with the exception of driving. Despite the hombre loco at the DMV who decided to give my 82-year-old grandmother a driver’s license, neither my grandma or my grandpa can drive. Period. So, they will have to get used to being more organized with their outings because those outings will be fewer and farther between after baby gets here. We joke that even though this is our first pregnancy, it will be our third child. We have two already. One is a diva that behaves like a 5-year-old sometimes and a 16-year-old at others, and the other is more like a teenage boy who is sometimes carefree and other times ridiculously stubborn.

It’s good times. We are grateful for all prayers as the future slowly becomes the present. We know it's a mighty God we serve, and He has all things under control.