I'm beginning to think the odds are that I'm not going to sit down and actually get to type on a keyboard anytime soon. As is, I'm on my Kindle wondering if CJ will go back to sleep on his own. And the answer is quickly becoming no. He was asleep till I had to put him down because his oldest sister was crying. =/
To sum up recent events and the reason I can't manage to sit down with a keyboard,, here's a run down of the last few months. I was put on restricted activity to try to prevent preterm labor, told to sit down if I had contractions which meant I was basically couch-bound from 31 weeks. Plumbing problems caused me to call my landlord at 35 weeks, who pitched a fit over the state of the house. 8am, two toddlers with lots of toys, a mom who can't be on her feet more than 2 minutes at a time, sorry that you have to step over some toys. And a basement is meant for storage. After being verbally threatened and intimidated, I chose to not follow doctors orders as closely as I should in the interest of keeping a roof over my family's head.
I needn't have bothered, because there was no satisfying this man, as proved by his refusal to even answer questions as to how we could get things to his satisfaction, instead storming out the door while harshly telling us to get out despite our efforts to meet his unclear demands. So in the midst of preparing for Ladybug's surgery, making travel plans and planning for expenses, petitioning insurance for better coverage, and preparing for the arrival of my son, I was given an eviction notice. The day we received the official notice, the stress proved to be too much and I went into labor at 37 weeks. Attempts to stop it were unsuccessful and CJ came bursting into the world at 1937 on April 21st, weighing in at a healthy 7 pounds 11 ounces and 21 inches.
Unfortunately, despite his weight he was not ready to be born. With multiple problems going on, he was airlifted to the nearest NICU just a couple hours after birth, without being held by me. The Mechanic made the 5 hour drive to be with him, church friends took care of the girls, and I sat in a hospital bed with empty arms. Thankfully, he got his act together quickly and I was able to hold him for the first time at around 50 hours old.
We were released from the hospital and I survived the first week home alone with all three children, despite Ladybug being in a complete meltdown over the chaos. The Mechanic's mom came for CJ's scheduled birth and mercifully helped pack, calm many tantrums, and kept me from completely bleeding out. We were kicked out wrongfully on May 18th, spent the night homeless in a motel with a basically autistic 2 year old one month away from major skull surgery, a one year old, and a barely 4 week old, in addition to a 4 week post-op mom.
We thankfully closed on a house on the 19th and moved in that afternoon. Within 5 days we became official home owners when suds started seeping from pipes in the basement while doing laundry. Over a week later, we are throwing up our hands in surrender and calling a plumber, while carefully restricting how much water goes down the pipes at a time. The plague of 50 year old iron pipes in this neighborhood just happened to hit us in the first week; gotta love our luck, when even an inspection wouldn't have caught this. Oh yeah, and California's emission laws have meant we've been down to one vehicle for over a month and a half now, since there's only one mechanic in town who'll work on foreign cars.
But through all this, the Lord has provided. It's been incredible. I really want to record in detail what's happened, because in future years I want to remember just how faithful He has proven Himself. I just have 3 inches of bills to take care of, three suitcases to pack, an entire house to unpack and prepare for helpful guests, in addition to keeping my girls from yanking out each other's hair or smothering their brother with kisses. And several trips to the laundromat to make while we wait on the plumber. =)