May Her Grace Be With Us Always

Today I attended the memorial service for Ronii Evilla-Grace. I keep trying to write something about her to describe to you how wonderful she was and what a waste this situation is, how unfair it is for everyone involved and I keep hitting backspace. Maybe it's because I didn't really know her all that well. I knew how she made me feel. I trusted her with my life, and with the life of my unborn baby. I'd have followed her to the ends of the earth if she'd thought it was what was best for Jack and me. My heart knew her. That she was kind, gentle, and soothing. That I truly enjoyed her company and looked forward to our meetings. That the way she gave advice was gentle, yet adamant. So like the mother she was and always will be. I knew she was taking good care of me, that she would continue to take good care of me. I felt no qualms or nervousness about having her deliver my child. Even when I was having trouble with my amniotic fluid and feared cord prolapse and c-section, I knew she would do whatever it took to make sure Jack and I were healthy. Her demeanor was so calm and competent. I don't know how one could have ever felt anything but peace in her presence.
I wish I'd known her better. I'd only met her about 8 or so months ago, and only been under her care for 6 weeks. I wish I'd known her longer. I wanted her. I still want her. I loved her a lot more than you would think 6 weeks could allow. I can't possibly convey what a huge waste this loss is, for everyone involved.
Her children range in age from early 20's to not-quite-two. It's such a shame for any mother to die when her children are too young to remember her, but I'm happy for the babies that they have their older siblings to remind them of what a wonderful person she was. They love her very very much, you could tell by their tears and their anger at the unfairness of it all. For her husband, who is grief-stricken. For her children, angry and heartbroken at the loss of their precious mama. For the church she was so active in, for the community she worked so hard to better, for the clients like myself who trusted her. Of course her children are angry.
How do you blog a life? To borrow the words of her son, I could stand here and spout words for years and never ever do her an ounce of justice.
Where she brought light, there is now only darkness. The world is better for having known her and bleaker for having lost her.
May her grace be with us always.

I forgot.

It's been, like, four years since I was pregnant. I forgot how much fun the third trimester is.

This pregnancy, I've felt great. Maybe it's because I've been trying to enjoy it since I know it's my last, and with the girls all I did was bitch about how uncomfortable I was. But at the beginning of this pregnancy, I told Aaron, "Never again." I don't want to spend my children's whole childhood pregnant. I want to run with them, travel with them, pick them up and swing them around. I want to be motivated to get the house clean and keep it that way, and to cook dinner every night. To exercise. I want to run a marathon. Basically? Set a good example for my kids. Not that having a lot of kids is a bad example, it's just not what I want. So, this is my last. I better enjoy it.
And I have. I feel great most of the time, aside from the morning sickness from early pregnancy. I have more energy, I'm not so moody and hormonal (Oh man was I a raging bitch when I was pregnant with the girls, I think it's the boy hormones that are keeping me more in balance.)

And then came the 3rd trimester. I forgot about the inordinate exhaustion. I don't do anything and I'm constantly pooped! If I do do stuff I feel like I've run a marathon. The heartburn when I didn't even eat anything acidic. The random contractions that remind me to drink more water and leave me sore the next day. The pain in my hips and pelvis; it doesn't matter if I've been sitting on my ass or walking around. They always hurt. The charley horses in the middle of the night, not to mention getting up 15 times to pee and not being able to sleep in between. And it's not even like I can sleep in; I get up earlier than the kids every single day to eat because I. Am. Starving! And my morning sickness is back. The long hours of the night without eating, give me a run for the bathroom almost every morning now.

Le sigh. I still want to try and enjoy the rest of this pregnancy. I'm determined to enjoy it. I am loving the belly. I love feeling him move inside me. I love how the girls are so excited to meet him. How Aaron finds my "teardrop shape" so beautiful and sexy. I'm not going to complain away the rest of this pregnancy. I just needed a moment. But I'm almost as excited about never being pregnant again as I am about meeting my son.

My husband is amazing.

I love him. Every day I wonder how in the world I got to be so lucky, how in the world he is crazy enough to love me like he does, and how in the world it just keeps getting better.
Aaron is at Airborne School at Fort Benning, GA. He has been in an Airborne unit for 3 years and never could quite keep his PT at a standard where they felt confident sending him to the school. Well this morning he passed that mother of a PT test and now he's going to be Airborne. The school is three weeks long, barring any bad weather. He is exhausted. "They make you run everywhere, baby!" In boots, no less. But he sounds like he's having a good time. I know he's happy to be there, no matter how sad he is to be away from us, and I'm very, very proud of him.