Baby Paris

*I truly believe there is powerful healing that can happen when a person is able put words to what they are feeling.  For me, I struggle with voicing those words.  I always have.

And so I write...or I guess, I type.  Who knows if I will ever hit the publish button, or just keep this to myself.*

So here we go.

About the time I started having those urges to have another baby, we learned that Jared's hard work had paid off, in the form of a paid trip to Paris.  Whaaaaat???  So exciting!!!

Our fertility has always been a mystery, with our fertility treatment Kerrigan and 2 surprise babies.  So we decided to hold off on trying for #4 until that trip, to avoid a sicker than death Lindsey. 

Imagine our shock when 2 weeks after Paris we found out I was expecting.  I think the extra 6 months of waiting to try made those 2 pink lines even sweeter.

We were all so, so excited.  Kerrigan would tell me multiple times a day that the day the baby was born would be the best day of her life.

As morbid as it sounds, I have always assumed I would lose a baby at some point.  The miscarriage rate is high, and we want a big family.  I am always anxious (as are most women) that first trimester, with every pregnancy.

We waited the standard 12 weeks, breathed a sigh of relief, then shared our news with everyone.

The pregnancy was a little different.  I wasn't AS sick during the day (read: only throwing up a few times during the day, not every minute of every day), but really sick in the evenings.

I started feeling baby move way earlier than the others, around 13 weeks.  I was able to continue *lightly* jogging/exercising and to lower my RA medication (which isn't necessary, I just wanted to play it safe).  

My belly popped way earlier as well.  Looking pregnant and feeling the baby move so early allowed me to bond with my little love much sooner than in the past.  

I would talk to the baby when I could feel kicks, think of names and picture what the baby would look like...it just all seemed more real earlier than usual.

On October 21st I went in for my 16 week check up.  I mentioned that I hadn't felt the baby move for a few days, and that I had cramped a little after a run earlier that week.  Neither seemed to worry my ob.  He struggled to find the heartbeat.  He said he wasn't concerned, the baby was small and my uterus was loud...but ordered an ultrasound for my benefit.

The ultrasound machine was not the best resolution, but I could instantly see my baby perfectly.  Little hands, little feet, sweet little legs tucked up.  I am no expert, but I could tell something was wrong.

I have never prayed for something so intensely in my life as I did as I stared at that tiny, motionless body.  Please move.  Please please please please move.

I was the first in the room to find my voice.  I whispered, "I don't see a heartbeat".  

Surprisingly, I held it together pretty well as my ob comforted me, talked to me about my options and asked me not to blame myself.  Then he asked if I had any questions.  I asked, "How am I supposed to tell my 5 year old?" and lost it.  The thought of facing Kerrigan and Tucker was heartbreaking.

Telling them was harder than anything I have ever done.  Kerrigan was crushed, I don't think I will ever be able to erase from my mind the look on her face the second she realized what we were telling her.

I honestly don't remember much else about that day.  I was numb.

The next day we had another ultrasound to confirm death.  They were able to tell us the baby was a girl.  I will be forever grateful for that extra time we got to spend with her.

Right after the technician told us she was a girl, she zoomed in on her profile.  I could see so clearly that she looked like her siblings.  My kids all share the same cute little nose, and this baby was no different.

Before that moment, I had never really had a firm stance on miscarriage.  I didn't know if those tiny spirits belonged to that family or if they would come back in a more perfect body later.

However, in that second, I knew.  This was my daughter.  She would be mine forever.  I will get the opportunity to mother her in heaven, but not in this life.

(I am not saying that is the case with every pregnancy loss.  I still don't know the answer to that question.  I only know that this was my experience with this baby.)

Kerrigan is currently obsessed with Paris.  One night she came to me holding her mini Eiffel Tower we bought her, and said she wanted to name the baby Paris so she could think of her every time she looked at her Tower.  I don't know how you argue with that logic.  So she became Baby Paris.

A week later her little body was removed from my body.  The decision of how to do so was the hardest decision I have ever made.  Both my ob and the late term miscarriage specialist recommended a D& E (like a d& c, but a little more complicated because of her size), for the faster recovery and much lower complication rate.

My head understood all those reasons, but my heart ached.  I wanted to hold her.  Kiss her.  Sing the song I sing to all my babies, the same song my mom used to sing to me.

I felt I only got to make this one decision as her mother on this earth, and delivering her seemed like the more selfless decision.

In the end, though, I had to do what was best for the whole family.  My children needed me to recover, both emotionally and physically, as fast as possible.  And 3 is not our number, so I needed to do whatever would be best to get the rest of our children here safely.

There are some days I hate that I did the D& E.  I think it was the better choice, but it still hurts that I will never see my child's face in this life.

THE RECOVERY AND HEALING

The physical healing was quick.  My body is still trying to figure out what happened, which is a little frustrating, but there was little physical pain involved.  Except when my milk came in...that took a physical and emotional toll on me, but that's a whole other story.

Emotionally, the healing has been interesting.  I think of Paris every day.  I pray for her, that she knows how much I miss and love her, every single day.

Most days I am fine. Most days I am happy.  Life has gone back to normal.  I feel normal.

  Some days I am not fine.

Earlier I mentioned that moment when I knew Paris was my daughter.  She will be mine forever, and I can't wait to meet her in heaven.  In some ways it makes this trial so much easier to bear, to know that one day I will hold her.  

In some ways it makes it hurt more.  The little moments I have with my kids that make motherhood worth it...I don't ever get to have those with her.  When I think of all the moments I won't have with her, it almost hurts to breath.

I won't get to hear her first cry.  I won't get to rock her to sleep.  I won't ever wrestle her flailing arms and arched back into her car seat.  I won't get to wave to her as she rides the bus to school.  I won't ever comfort her when she falls.  Her eyes will never light up on Christmas morning.  I will never get to watch her blow out the candles on her birthday cake.

I never fully understood when women would talk about this intense mourning after a miscarriage.  I understood that they were sad, life is precious.  Losing that life is a terrible thing.  I am beyond ashamed to say I sometimes felt they were possibly dramatic or in some way embellishing their pain.  I was so, so wrong.

Sure, I miss being pregnant, feeling her kick.  Of course I am sad that I won't have my brand new baby to hold in a couple months.  But I am grieving the loss of a lifetime of the little moments I treasure as a mom.

I feel like people don't always understand that.  I wonder if people think I am being dramatic or a downer if I talk about her.  

So I usually don't talk about what I am feeling.  I don't want to make people uncomfortable or to wonder what they are thinking about me.  When really all I want to do is acknowledge that she is a part of me.  Part of our family.

Even though I never met her in this life, I miss my Paris.  I miss the experiences I will never have with her.  I didn't understand that before.  Now I do. 

Kerrigan has been asking some tough questions, and sometimes I feel inadequate answering them.  When she sees new babies, she tells me it makes her sad because her baby died.  She has asked why other people get to keep their baby and we didn't.  And I feel like I don't have the answers, so just cling to the fact that our family is forever and we will see her in heaven.

I struggle with the question "How many kids do you have?"  I feel like saying 3 is a lie.  It makes me feel like I am ignoring the precious soul who is waiting for us in heaven.  Saying 4 just opens up questions.  I don't know the right answer, and it makes me nervous to meet new people.  I wonder if that is normal.

I also have some fears when I think about being pregnant again.  The thought of this happening again is terrifying.  I won't be able to tell myself that I just have to make it through the first 12 weeks and then I can relax.  I won't be able to boost my spirits when I am sick by telling myself it means the baby is healthy.  I threw up until 3 days after my surgery.  That scares me.

I hope that my faith will be strong enough to overcome the fear I know will be there. 

ALL THAT BEING SAID, I feel blessed.  I feel loved by those around me.  I feel like I found a strength that I never knew I had.  

The night I found out she was gone I prayed for a long time.  Prayed for strength.  Prayed for peace.  Mostly I prayed that this experience would not change me.  I didn't want to be angry.  I didn't want to be jealous of women who get to keep their babies.  I didn't want to become a sad person.

My prayers were answered. 

Sure, I feel a prick of sadness with each pregnancy announcement I see.  I sometimes become more aware of the emptiness as I watch the growing bellies of the women I was pregnant with.  Luckily those moments have been fleeting.  Unusually frequent, but fleeting (seriously, is there anyone left out there who doesn't have a newborn or bun in the oven...anyone?).

I am not angry at God, or any one else.  I do occasionally feel angry at my own body.  I sometimes have to fight the feeling of betrayal...that my body failed and took away something I wanted so much.  I am working on it, and slowly making progress.

I have learned how powerful service is.  Before we even made it home from that first appointment, my best friends were out mowing our lawn and writing love notes on our driveway with chalk.  We had meals brought in.  We had many prayers given in our behalf.  We had beyond thoughtful gifts sent to us, some from people we haven't had much contact with recently.  Every single kind word and act of service strengthened us more than I thought possible.  I will always be grateful. 

I have felt the love of my Savior so strongly through each person who served us.

My journey to heal is far from over, and I think a piece of my heart will always be missing.  I love my baby and will always miss her, but I have learned so much through this experience.  

It's a little too soon to say I am grateful for this trial, but I am grateful for what I have learned and the strength I have gained because of it.

Top 12 of 2012

Let's be real for a minute. I was a crap blogger last year.

 I should feel really guilty, but I don't.

See, I was hanging over the toilet for the first half and spent the last half adjusting to life with 3 littles and coping with a new diagnosis.

So instead of attempting the impossible task of catching up, I am going to do a little condensed version of the big stuff.  Let's call it the Top 12 of 2012.  Lots of pictures (mostly un-edited), few words...just the way I like it.

#12. Kerrigan entered Primary, and took her position as the youngest member of Primary very seriously.  As in she spent the first few weeks, possibly months, either twirling around in the front or laying under her chair. It was awesome.  Tucker also started nursery....such a beautiful moment in every lds parent's life.

#11 We learned the baby cooking in my belly was a girl, which Kerrigan had known since we told her I was pregnant @ 8 or 9 weeks.  

#10 Easter.  They just looking freaking adorable.  I don't remember much else...

 #9 We drove down to AZ for my baby sister's wedding.  Mainly because I totally dig the Idaho-Arizona drive when I am great with child.  Totes hard core, I know.  I didn't take a whole lot of pictures for some reason, but check out my mom's sweet moves on the dance-floor!

Not to be outdone by my mother, this also happened:

And this is the only picture I have at the actual wedding, I was really bringing classy back that day.

We also were able to spend some time in Tucson before the wedding with Jared's parents.

#8 Fourth of July, and squeezing in as much summer fun as possible as a family of 4.  The kids took swim lessons from a girl in the ward and gained some much needed confidence in the water.  I hope she teaches again this next summer!

#7 My belly got bigger and bigger, until...

#6 WE HAD A BABY!!!!  But I already did a long post on that, so we will just skip to the blessing.  Which we did when she was exactly 7 days old.  Since my parents were planning on leaving the Sunday after my induction date, we decided to have it that day.  Our amazing families (both immediate and extended) came to support us, which meant so much to us!  And, unlike my first go around with Kerrigan, I actually realized I was in charge of feeding everyone who came...so we didn't have to do the post blessing meal at a greasy diner.  So 2 points for me- I am slooooooowly getting this whole responsible adult thing down.

Chloe Lorraine, teeny tiny and drowning in the dress her grandma bought for her, looked absolutely darling and her dad gave her an amazing blessing.  She is one lucky little girl!

Some other pictures from the weekend of family fun:

 #5 Tucker's 2nd birthday.  I just love him.  He is such a happy go lucky, easy to please kid.  He is also a 2 year old, so that's always fun...but with those big blue eyes, the little charmer knows how to win over even the grumpiest person he meets.  Again, I just love him!

#4 Chloe grew.  And grew and grew and grew.  By the end of 2012 she was a whopping 18lb 6 month old. And we love every pudgy ounce of our chunky baby.  

We took it pretty easy for a few months, adjusting to life with 3 kids.  Some things I would like to point out: 

1. First collage, bottom right picture, brother reading to baby...heart melted. 2. Second collage, top left.  Tucker woke up early one Saturday.  Jared wanted to let me sleep in with the girls but also needed to do some yard work.  Solution: he put Tuck in the hiking backpack and they did man work together.  The boy loved every second.  Again, heart melted.

 #3. Thanksgiving was spent in Arizona.  Because we are crazy, we drove again.  Turns out, traveling 7 or 8 months pregnant...way easier than traveling with a 3 1/2 month old who hates her car seat.  Needless to say, the kids and I flew home- sorry Jared, our resident lone traveler.

I don't have any pictures of actual Thanksgiving, but Kerrigan dressed up like an Indian for her Preschool Thanksgiving Feast, so that totally counts, right?

Oh, and we also got to meet Miss Leah Moffitt.  Sweetest, and holy cow STRONGEST, 3 day old EVER! Instant love!

 2. Brookie threw Kerrigan's birthday party at her house.  There was a pinata.  There were tents.  There were presents.  She was in heaven and still talks about it.  Well done, Brookie...well done.

I can't believe I have a 4 year old, as cliche as that sounds.  She is still trying to shake off the tyrannical 3's, but she is also starting to get so unbelievably grown up.  She is my best helper girl, and a silly, giggly, hilarious little lady.

1. We had Christmas in Idaho Falls.  Sledding, Broncos game, Santa, Nativity scene (yes, feel free to be terrified of the donkey mask...but notice that none of the kids are.  That's because it makes an appearance at almost all Stokes family events. Because we are amazing), family, presents, hot tubbing, Christmas jammies and Big Judd's.  Please note Chloe eyeing the Big Judd's burger that is as big as her entire body.  Sorry, sister, your dinner is a little more to your left...

Oh, and I made homemade rolls.  Totally nailed them.  They were amazing.  Haven't been able to recreate them since.  It appears I am missing the key ingredient...Grams's coaching.  

And that, my friends, concludes the Stokes Family's Top 12 of 2012.  I hope I will do a better job in 2013, because that took way more time than I should be spending on the computer.  I guess I had better go clean up the disaster of a mess my kids made during their unchaperoned afternoon.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Hello?

Is anyone out there still reading this poor, neglected blog?

I am impressed if you are!  The last time I even looked in the blog's direction was right after Chloe was born...and she just turned 3 months this past week.  

I know, crazy, right?  It has gone by fast for me as well!

I will *hopefully* do a massive update soon.  For now, I kind of wanted to explain my absence.  So get comfortable, maybe grab a snack and beverage, because you are about to read a lot about just me.  Booooring.  If you want to skip it, and just wait for the big update, I understand.  We can still totally be friends!

So here we go.  Remember how I couldn't walk after I had Chloe?  I thought it was weird, but just wrote it off as a side effect of pushing a human out of my body and considered myself lucky that it went away after 3 days.

However, similar pains started occurring throughout the rest of my joints.  I would wake up one day and not be able to move my arm, hip, etc. more than a few inches.  Even the joints that weren't causing me tons of pain had a dull ache, and for some reason my feet were always so sore I incorporated an interesting hobble/shuffle into my strut.

I tried to tell myself it was postpartum hormones with a hint of old age, but was worried enough that I mentioned it to my doctor at my postpartum appointment.  She ordered blood work to test for Lupus and Rheumatoid Arthritis.

Turns out, at the ripe age of 28, I have Rheumatoid Arthritis. 

Fun fact: I was officially diagnosed by the Rheumatologist EXACTLY one month after I publicly mocked my husband's old age on his 30th birthday on Facebook.  That, my friends, is Karma at her best!  I basically had it coming!

Just a few facts:  

It is an auto immune disorder.  My immune system is attacking my joints.

It is something I will always have.  It can be pushed into remission, but we are currently trying to find a Rheumatologist I love...because apparently he or she will be my new bestie who I will be spending a lot of time with.

For now, my case is pretty mild.  I don't have swelling or very much damage to my joints.  I am really sore and stiff every morning, but it usually improves within a few hours.  The thing that affects me the most is when my fingers and wrists are acting up...it can make doing small and tedious tasks nearly impossible.

My doctor was able to prescribe some medications that I can take while nursing Chloe.  THANK HEAVENS!  I started trying to give her a bottle a day when I first found out I probably had RA, and it is not going so well.  6 weeks in and the kid still won't take a bottle.  Stubborn little midget.

For the most part I like to think I am handling it well.  I have had a few meltdowns, usually related to me not being able to function as well as a mother to small kids (such as getting shoes on Tucker's FAT feet or buckling Chloe's seatbelt).  It can be frustrating to have days where I feel like my body is not only failing me, but is affecting my ability to take care of the littles.  But like I said, those moments have thankfully been few and far between.

Jared has been a rock star.  He has really stepped up to help out with the kids, house and sometimes even physically take care of me.  He even had to drop everything at work one day to help me out of the shower.  Long story short: I sat down in the shower...huge mistake.  My fingers, wrists and shoulders were too sore to pull myself back up.  Luckily my oh so helpful 3 year old finally responded to my calls, brought me my phone and I had to have this conversation:

Me: Hey babe, how is work going?

J: It's ok.  Kinda busy.  How are you?

Me: Ummm, I am ok.  So tiny problem.  I sat down in the shower and can't get up.

J: What?

Me: I mean, it's not a huge deal.  I kinda feel like the kid on a Christmas Story.

J: Ok, I am coming home.

Me: Well, no rush.  It's not like I am going anywhere.

J: (probably some Life Alert "I have fallen and I can't get up" jokes)

It was obviously a proud moment for me.

So that is it.  All in all, we are doing fine.  I am trying to learn how to listen to my body when it tells me to sit down and not worry about the dishes. 

I am slower, but turns out Jared and I think arthritic Lindsey is a hoot.  Poor old gal is the butt of many jokes in our home.

 Those of us with hair sometimes look a little rough (curse you elastic hairbands), so it is actually a blessing that 3 of the 5 of us have little to no hair.  

And fortunately, even on my most homeless looking days, I have a happy, chubby baby on my hip to distract  people from how awful I look :)

Go ahead...try to look at me instead of her.  It didn't work, did it?  Mission accomplished.

Chloe Lorraine

I happen to be a person that loves to read birth story.  If that's not your thing, here is the version that is rated E for Everyone:  Chloe Lorraine finally arrived on July 29th around 6:30am after my longest labor to date.  She was 7lbs 1 oz and 20" long.  Dark hair and a possible dimple has been spotted a few times.  There you go...now if you don't want more details, feel free to skip the text and just look at pictures.

Now for the more detailed story.  First of all, when I was 28 weeks, my due date was pushed back.  Me, being the genius I am, decided that I was going to keep telling my body that my due date was the end of July...ya know, mind over matter.  Not so smart, my friends!  In my mind I was almost 40 weeks- medically I went into labor at exactly 39 weeks as usual.  I guess I better stick with the people with the medical degree next time.  So this is all based on the actual timeline :)

When I hit 37 weeks, I started trying to coax the baby out.  Mainly so Jared and the other kids could go to a big family reunion- since my labor is USUALLY only a few hours long, we weren't comfortable with sending them and take the risk of Jared missing the birth.  I had my membranes stripped that Monday, and had no doubt she would be here in the next few days.  I walked a ton (pushing a double stroller or pulling a wagon), moved cinder block, mowed the lawn, bounced on a yoga ball, etc.  Nothing happened, and my family missed the reunion...so lame!

After the reunion ended, I took a few days rest until my mom came, then it was game on- again.  She had to leave the 5th, so we had scheduled a baby blessing for the 5th, so I needed her to come asap.  So I continued all the exercises, threw in some amazing Zumba (I seriously have no clue how she didn't fall out during that!), had the membranes re-stripped and tried not to sit down as much as possible.  Again, nothing except a few contractions at night, that would disappear eventually.

The night before I turned 39 weeks, the kids and I caught an amazing stomach bug.  I spent the whole night praying that all my hurling would NOT send me into labor.  The morning I turned 39 weeks, I could feel a ton of pressure so announced to everyone that today was the day.  I moved around as much as I could, and that evening after putting the kids to bed I tried doing squats.  FINALLY contractions started around 9:30pm.

Since we had been swimming, I really wanted to fix my hair and makeup.  After every delivery, I look at pictures and resolve that next time I will look better.  Halfway through my makeup application/contraction timing I realized that wasn't going to happen, contractions were coming too quick.  So Jared threw some last minute things in the hospital bag and we took off. 

We made pretty good time to the hospital, and it was a little after 11 when I got all checked in.  I was a little surprised to learn I was only a 5, but asked them to start the epidural process.  All of the nurses thought I would deliver within an hour, so it was all pretty rushed.

Sometimes Jared likes to tease me and take pictures of me mid-contraction.  Awesome.

My epidural kicked in about 12:30, they checked me again and I was dilated to........a 6?  What the?!?!  It was crazy to watch the monitor, see some crazy big contractions and not progress at all.  At one point, the baby's heartbeat fell completely off the monitor, so I wasn't able to rest- I watched the monitor like a hawk.  The next 5 HOURS dragged on...I was so restless and eager to meet her, and she just wasn't coming.  They checked me a little after 5 and I was only to an 8.  The Dr. came in and broke my water, expecting her to pop right out...but my contractions stopped completely.  Again, awesome.

At 6:10 they started me on pitocin.  Then checked me.  Hello baby's head.  During my first push, the Dr. told me to not push hard, to push with little pushes.  After a couple little pushes, she was out (6:21am) with the cord wrapped around her neck and foot.  Fortunately, everyone was completely calm which helped Jared and I not to panic. 

So I realize being in the hospital for 7 hours is not that long, but compared to 3hrs with K and 1.5hrs with Tuck it seemed like an eternity.  Seeing this face definitely made up for it.

We had about 6 hours alone with our little beauty before guests started showing up.  We had 3 names picked out when we left for the hospital.  During our alone time, we had kind of settled on one name.  Then Kerrigan showed up, and was BEYOND excited to see that Baby Chloe (not the name we had picked) had finally come out of mommy's tummy.  Seriously, how do you tell this face that her baby sister's name isn't Chloe?  That's right, you can't.  So baby Chloe it is :)

 Tucker wasn't sure what to think, but he did give her a few good snuggles.  Such a sweet big brother!

 First photo as a family of 5

The Grandmas loving on the newest grand baby.  Not sure how the only picture I got of Susan is of her changing a diaper...oops!

Chloe had lots of visitors come to see her- it is so fun to see how loved she already is!

Now meet Great Grandpa Rulon.  He is probably Jared's favorite person in the world.  Lorraine is Rulon's wife who passed away soon after Jared and I were married.  It was really special to have Chloe Lorraine meet her Great Grandpa.

Ok, so I had a list of pictures I wanted to take in the hospital.  My body had other plans.  The night after Chloe arrived, I woke up with a lot of pain in my hip- I couldn't get comfortable and it was painful enough I couldn't sleep.  At one point, I got up to use the restroom and discovered I couldn't put any pressure on it.

The next morning it was worse.  Jared had to half carry me any time I got out of bed.  Just what a new mom needs, the inability to walk :)  The only conclusion the Dr. could come to was I must have pulled my leg at a weird angle when it was time to push and couldn't feel it because of my epidural.  Next time I think I will leave my legs in the hands of nurses...literally.  An extra day at the hospital, 2 physical therapy sessions, painkiller/muscle relaxer prescriptions in hand and a walker (yes, like an old woman) later and I was sent on my way.  I wonder if I am the first woman to leave the hospital with a newborn and a walker?

Anyways, my handicapped state didn't leave much room for taking pictures.  Here are the few that I did get.

 Heading home

 There it is, folks.  The arrival of Chloe.  Now I have spent way too much time on the computer, I better take care of my 3 kids (still hard to believe I have more kids than hands...yikes)!

5 1/2 weeks left...

Warning: this post is more on the personal side than most.  Just a little warning before you dive in!

Yikes!!!

Sidenote: Yes, I am hiding my face.  Between errands and swim lessons, not a stitch of makeup made it onto my face today.  You are welcome!

Now normally with the belly shot comes commentary about how much the baby is moving, how swollen my feet are, etc.

Not so much this time.  I will just say she is very active and we are getting more and more excited to meet her everyday.  Then we will move on to a different (but related) topic, because this mama needs some advice.

As one can tell from the rate of reproduction in the Stokes home, we are not really birth control savvy (yep, I am going there).  My only experience with birth control was this one time during fertility treatments.  It was Yaz, and it was not so great.

4 years ago, during all the fertility stuff, Jared and I decided we would never have me go on birth control (and that was solidified by the Terrible Yaz Incident of 2008). 

But 3 kids in 3 years has changed our tune a tad.  My body needs A BREAK!!!!  This pregnancy has been much harder than the other 2.  I am still sick, and way more uncomfortable and swollen way earlier than normal. (PLEASE do not take this as me complaining!!!  I realize how blessed I am to be pregnant, and am beyond thrilled to add another baby to the mix.  I just wanted to explain why I am posting on something so personal)

More importantly, my family needs a break from pregnant me.  I want to be one of those super moms who keeps a super clean house and comes up with super fun activities for her kids and creative/healthy meals everyday.  And I physically cannot even come close to being that mom while I am pregnant.  SuperLindsey is just not in the cards for me while I am growing a human in me.

Soooo, since we will be holding off for a few years, we are kind of leaning towards IUD.  Which is where I need advice. The positive aspects of it sound awesome, but I am worried it might affect our fertility when we are ready to reopen the baby factory.  Neither of us feel like 3 is our number...we definitely want more- eventually!  The thought of having problems conceiving again terrifies me!

So does anyone have experience (or know someone who has) with this particular means of birth control?  Especially any experience with conceiving afterwards?

Sorry, I totally realize the personal nature of this...I will be probably be deleting this post in a few weeks.  Or if you have some advice but don't want it public feel free to email me @ lindseywstokes@gmail.com 

Now I will go to elevate my feet while the kiddos are napping- 3 cheers for cankles!!!!