Weekly Jude: Month Three

Jude is THREE months old! He mostly just wants a person to stare at and trade smiles with until he gets tired and needs a long winter's nap. He is so sweet when he gets to talking, especially when he gets all excited! He still kind of hates the carseat, so if you would pray for a miracle drive to Kansas, I would truly appreciate it.

Santa Lucia VII

Happy St. Lucy's day! This year definitely had to be the easy route. We are running on empty with our darling boy coming two weeks into the school year and all that entails, as well as a week of school concerts and dance demonstrations on top of the normal hustle and bustle. Daniel grabbed two cans of orange rolls to reshape (they look like the traditional lussekatters, but definitely aren't, obviously). The girls bounced out of bed and brought the rolls in to Mlada's room. She didn't budge, even when we sang. ha! She was excited when she woke up about an hour later to see that her sisters had left her some rolls, and insisted that we light the candles and sing for each roll. Jude celebrated by getting a good stare down in with the tree lights.

St. Lucy, pray for us!

Weekly Jude: Month Two

Jude turned two months old on Sunday! (He is 9 weeks today.) He is a darling, smiley, wonderfully snuggly little guy, and he is adored by all of us. He hit 10 lbs and 23.2 inches in time for his 2 month checkup, so while he seems like he's had a growth spurt in the past couple of weeks in adding some sweet chub, he's still following his look-a-like's footsteps size-wise. He had his first two plane rides this past week, hates car seats more than ever, and has started to sleep occasionally on his own. There is probably more to write, but he is also a hungry little fella right now, so I'm pushing publish before I forget!

Rest in Peace, John Ward

The below is the text of my grandfather's obituary as written by my dad. He will be buried today.

John Morris Ward, formerly of rural Papillion, passed away in Mesa, Arizona on October 24, 2018 at the age of 94. Funeral services will be held at Trinity Lutheran Church, Papillion, on November 16 at 10 a.m.. Interment will be at Fairview Cemetery. American Legion Post 32 will provide military honors. A Celebration of Life will be conducted later in Mesa at Carriage Manor Retirement Park in January.

He was born to John M. and Mildred Holman Ward on December 13, 1923 on a farm near Gordon, Nebraska. The family moved to a farm northwest of Springfield, Nebraska in 1925. Two years later, they moved to the Clarke place (the Big House) one mile south of Papillion.

He graduated from Papillion High School in 1941. After attending Omaha University, he was drafted into the U.S. Army in late 1942. He served more than three years in the Army Signal Corps, the last year on Okinawa.

Returning home in 1946, he resumed college before deciding to farm and feed cattle with his father. He married Bernice Timme on June 22, 1947, and they started out in a house (the Little House) that had no water or electricity. To this union were born three daughters, Pamela, Bonnie, and JoAnn. In 1959 the Ward family moved to the Big House. In 1963 John’s father built a cabin on Lake Ojibway near Nevis, Minnesota where they spent many happy summers.

Shortly after moving to a new home on Platteview Road, his wife, Bernice, passed away in 1973. On October 4, 1974, John married Lucille Hanes Buesing. Lucille passed away in 2001.

John was active in the local community, serving 27 years on both the County Fair Board and the State Fair Board. He served on the Papillion School Board and Educational Service Unit #3 as well as in many other organizations. He was a member and past commander of American Legion Post 32 and the Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) #9675. In 1991 he was named a Distinguished Graduate of Papillion-LaVista Public Schools.

In his later years, John lived in Mesa where he served on the retirement park’s architectural board and played washboard in the kitchen band. Deteriorating health forced John to move to Mariposa Point of Mesa, an assisted living facility, in the summer of 2018. His family is grateful to the staff of Mariposa Point and Family Comfort Palliative/Hospice Care for their loving attention to John in his final months.

John was preceded in death by his parents, John and Mildred Ward, his first wife Bernice, his second wife Lucille, his brother Bob, and his companion, Helen Mae Darrah.

He leaves to mourn his passing his three daughters: Pamela (Bob) Voboril, Bonnie (Virgil Wayne) Mink, and JoAnn (Mark) Rumley; his step-son Ron (Bobby) Buesing, and his sister-in-law Mary June Ward; 13 grandchildren: Amanda Dalton, Joe Mann, Mike Mann, Eve Mitchell, Mlada Hill, Kathleen Z. Lewis, Tom Voboril, Alzbeta Volk, Jakub Voboril, Matej Voboril, Rick Buesing, Steve Buesing, and Craig Buesing; 34 great-grandchildren, and numerous nieces, nephews, and friends.

John Ward was an unforgettable character. He was a successful farmer, a proud veteran, a caring husband, and a storyteller who made friends easily. He was a lifelong Christian, and he and Bernice were charter members of Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church. Perhaps due to his short stature, he could be cantankerous, but he also raised his three daughters to be strong and independent like him.

John enjoyed traveling, exploring, fishing, mischief, a great steak and a good stiff drink, but he enjoyed people most of all. A member of the Greatest Generation, John knew the difference between making a living and making a life, and he left his mark on the communities where he lived and on his family and friends whom he loved. Rest in peace, John.

Quotables #9

C: The good kind of ghosts are raccoon ghosts.

 C: I'm going to get a bite of guac before I go potty to get my hands dirty.

 C: I love you daddy.
 D: I love you too! You're a very good girl.
 C: And you're kind of mean sometimes.

 C: If I had a measuring tape, I would use it to measure my love for you.

C: My neck keeps growling.

 C: I saw the pancakes and I sniffed out the bacon.

 C: You know what I like about my mom?
What?
 C: The whipped cream!

Want to sleep?
 M: “Maybe tomorrow.

 M: I’m not upSET. I’m fusterated!

 C: " wonder where the spider is going… Maybe Africa? Maybe the library!

M: I wish a bird could eat my tongue.

 C: Mommy, if you die, I hope Daddy marries me. (cue explanation on why that can't happen) Okay, then, I’ll find a fancy man, because I’m fancy.

 C: Anni, will you be sleeping beauty?
 A: No, my finger hurts too much to prick it on a spinning wheel.

 M: I’ll be safe, I won’t stab my sister anymore!

Weekly Jude: First Month

Weekly Jude: Jude is 4 weeks today (and will be a month old on Thursday). He is rocking the teenage-esque acne still, but unfortunately not the teenage-esque sleep schedule. This may be due to a certain big sister who really enjoys jamming a pacifier into his mouth whether or not he wants it, opening his eyes for him, and holding his hand in his sleep. (She adores him and is truly trying to help. Just the fact that she calls him "my baby" makes up for all of the difficulties.) He is just starting to "talk"/coo a bit, and still has giant smiles right after he wakes up from a good sleep. He is still a skinny little guy, but it seems like his face is starting to fill out a bit. He was baptized this past Sunday! It snowed, and was generally a very cold day, but we are so glad he is baptized and that Jake, Mom, and Dad could be there.

Hey, Jude! A birth story.

Jude and I hit 40 weeks on a Friday. I was feeling large, but settling down to the idea that this little guy may go as long or longer than his sisters. Despite Anni being an early bird (33 weeks), Colette was born at 40+6 and Mlada was 41+5. I also knew my dates were right on, so I was interested to see if that made any difference, or if I really did just bake my babies extra long.

Jude's whole pregnancy was similar to his sisters', but definitely on the easier end. I was sick, but not quite as violently (though the vomiting right as everyone was loading up for VBS this summer was a shining moment), I dealt with sciatica, but was still able to get pants on (something that required chiropractic care to achieve with Mlada), and I know the weight gain was similar, but honestly I started out heavier this round and had my nurse specifically not tell me what the scale said once I hit a certain point. I had no time for that mental drama this time around, and it was honestly really helpful in terms of keeping my head in the game at the end. I did have a lot more braxton hicks this pregnancy, which was a new adventure. I also felt like I could feel which body parts were where and all of his movements a lot better than previously, but that could be forgetfulness and time. Either way, I really enjoyed his wiggles this pregnancy! 

A few days before his birthday, I was having pretty good runs of contractions when I would sit at my computer to work (yep, left one session left to edit until the verrrrry end). They usually tapered out once I went upstairs to lie down; though. The night before "the night" I actually thought things might be progressing (and they obviously were, just not all the way), and did some last minute nesting, packing a few more things in my hospital bag, setting out clothes for the girls to meet him in, and trying to decide which backup to text about coming to stay with the girls. The contractions never got closer or stronger, and I woke up in the morning not in labor. 

That evening (40+3, about to be 40+4), I decided I should probably finish up that last session. As I worked, the contractions inched closer together. I went upstairs to tell Daniel I thought that was going to be it, and he went into a frantic nesting mode of his own: throwing sheets on the guest bed, doing dishes and picking up toys. Several of our planned babysitters (Daniel's parents are an hour away) were out of town or had spouses out of town, but luckily one friend with a heart of gold didn't hesitate to hop in her car and come hang out on our couch for an hour or two. As we prepared to go, she prayed with us, and it was truly one of the most beautiful moments of the evening. The Holy Spirit was definitely pouring through her at that moment! 

We arrived at the hospital for the first time around 9:30. My contractions were just a little over five minutes apart (they slowed down a little in the car), and when she checked me I was at a... 2. whomp whomp. The other times I've gone to the hospital to deliver a baby, I was at a 5 (Anni), 6 (Colette), and 7 (Mlada). I felt really defeated and like I didn't know my body as well as I thought I did. They decided to send me home (unless I wanted to do some crazy morphine induced sleep... um... no) since I wasn't progressing, though they made me hang out quite awhile because they were worried about Jude's heart rate (it was fine, he was just wiggly and wouldn't stay on the monitor). Also, I want to point out I had great medical care, I just wish they had trusted that I knew something. This was my fourth live birth, so I did have some experience going in. 

As we walked to the car, the contractions were pretty close together and reached "grabbing Daniel's arm" intensity. He wanted to turn around and go back up, but I felt too defeated by the situation and we headed home. We laid down for about 20 minutes, me rolling over to grab Daniel's arm every four or so minutes to get through the contractions. Just as I was about to let him know we needed to head back, Anni came upstairs because she couldn't sleep. We chatted a bit, and when I stood up to give her a hug, my water broke (I actually wasn't 100% positive that's what happened, but it was). I made the mistake of telling her we were heading back to the hospital and that Nonna and Papa were already there. I wanted her to know so that when she woke up she wouldn't be afraid if she couldn't find us, but in the end she didn't go back to sleep again that day. 

Things were getting intense enough that we hopped back in the car and headed straight back to the hospital. Walking was quite uncomfortable (no water to cushion things), and when we made it back to the hospital at about 3:30, I had Daniel drop me off instead of walking from the parking lot this time. Getting an epidural quickly was my goal, honestly. I needed a wheelchair this time, and things definitely felt intense as we rolled into a new room with a new nurse (my previous nurse had picked up another patient already). I was a five at that point and employing all the breathing technique I could muster. I had no desire to move or walk (again, I think that cushion of waters makes a big difference in where I wanted to labor) and tried to move the epidural process along. Unfortunately, that requires an IV (that took two hands and two tries), a blood test, and the actual setup of everything the anesthesiologist needs. As he was setting up in the hall, I hit transition. At the time, I just thought I was wussing out, because I thought I must have a long way yet to go, buuuut it just turns out things were moving quickly. The (really lovely, quirky, and kind) anethesologist pretty much only got the needle in, gave me the bolus and then didn't manage to get me hooked up to the rest of the meds because my body was about ready to push. And then it did... without my consent, really. I was able to get out the words, "I feel pushy", before my body started actually pushing, and then all talking was out. I turned on the bed and let my body do its thing. Two pushes in, the nurse took notice, turned to my doctor who was just walking in the door and said, "I think I see a head or maybe a forebag?" He slipped on a glove, glanced over, and caught Jude as I pushed him out on the fourth push. Then that sweet, wiggly boy was up on my chest. He still had the caul over his face, which they pulled off. He settled right in, and because everyone was caught by surprise, even though I hadn't been able to mention it, he was able to keep his cord attached until it finished pulsing. (I think God was watching out for me there, because it was something I really wanted to do this time, but wasn't in the right frame of mind to mention.) That bolus from the epidural kicked in right about time for stitches, which was lovely since that took a little while. 

I couldn't see his whole face as I snuggled him, so I looked up to Daniel and asked him who he looked like (remember, we didn't have a name at this point). He replied, with a smile, "Jude", and he was named. 

Welcome to the world, darling Jude Benedict.

And here he is!

We welcomed the sweetest most serious-faced little boy on the 18th. He is truly a little wonder, and he is overwhelmingly loved by all of us. It took us until his birth to choose a name, and when Daniel declared he looked like a "Jude Benedict" a few minutes after his arrival, I was glad to agree. He loves to snuggle and stare us down quite seriously as he figured the world out. We have gotten a few sweet smiles, and feel so very grateful to get to have him in our lives. 

Why there's no Week 2-6...

I was all gung-ho about doing another Project 365, and then a whole lot of reality, nausea, exhaustion, and excitement that couldn't be translated into creative energy hit, and here we are.

Project 365 | 2018 | Week 1