<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022</id><updated>2012-02-05T16:21:54.434-07:00</updated><category term='body'/><category term='mind'/><category term='soul'/><title type='text'>Sun in my Soul</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>47</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-5809983442461370083</id><published>2010-02-08T20:48:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T20:54:08.629-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>How Sick Am I Really?</title><content type='html'>Every pregnancy I ask myself the same question about 2 or 3 months into things.  Do you really feel as lousy as you think you do?  Or are you just being a baby?  being selfish and trying to get yourself a break?  And then after I have the baby, I realize that I was indeed feeling lousy, because I can feel the difference so quickly.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I feel sick.  I feel tired and devoid of energy and drive.  Later I feel sore.  My feet go numb when I get one minute into my prayers.  My back aches (and aches for another good rub).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's okay.  I'm getting used to it.  I feel sick and tired and a little bit guilty when I do.  If women could cross the plains, feed their families, run a farm and tend to all the work all through pregnancy, what am I doing on the couch?  Well, if a woman could sit on the couch and still have dinner, clean kids and clothes, I'm guessing she would have.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least that is what I'm telling myself for the next 6 months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-5809983442461370083?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/5809983442461370083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=5809983442461370083' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5809983442461370083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5809983442461370083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2010/02/how-sick-am-i-really.html' title='How Sick Am I Really?'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-1681991208202739102</id><published>2010-02-07T20:50:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T20:52:05.839-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>Headaches</title><content type='html'>I've been getting regular headaches.  They aren't severe, but they hurt and just won't go away.  I'm at a loss about what to do.  I don't remember getting them like this before.  Doesn't it seem that after 5 pregnancies, I should have it down, that I should just be able to have the same old each time?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does life ever work that way?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-1681991208202739102?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/1681991208202739102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=1681991208202739102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/1681991208202739102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/1681991208202739102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2010/02/headaches.html' title='Headaches'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-5447594636589650276</id><published>2010-01-25T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T15:37:07.179-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soul'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>Life</title><content type='html'>Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh&lt;br /&gt;The most beautiful sound&lt;br /&gt;My life flowing through&lt;br /&gt;Another&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh&lt;br /&gt;The most beautiful sound&lt;br /&gt;My life sustaining &lt;br /&gt;Another&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh&lt;br /&gt;The most beautiful sound&lt;br /&gt;My life becoming &lt;br /&gt;Another&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-5447594636589650276?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/5447594636589650276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=5447594636589650276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5447594636589650276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5447594636589650276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2010/01/life.html' title='Life'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-2516415587687741719</id><published>2010-01-25T10:37:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T10:39:52.839-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soul'/><title type='text'>Even the 1-year-old</title><content type='html'>Just now my sweet little Charity was busy wiping things down (she loves a good washcloth or wet wipe), when she spread the washcloth out on her tummy and said surprisingly clearly, "pregnant!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How in the world did she know that word?  How did she pick up that I am pregnant?  I don't know, but she is sure a cutie!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-2516415587687741719?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/2516415587687741719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=2516415587687741719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/2516415587687741719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/2516415587687741719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2010/01/even-1-year-old.html' title='Even the 1-year-old'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-7097690405782358389</id><published>2010-01-25T08:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T08:39:00.606-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>What I'm eating</title><content type='html'>1. Dill pickles&lt;br /&gt;2. The least amount of pizza possible&lt;br /&gt;3. Turkey and Swiss sandwiches, with dill pickles&lt;br /&gt;4. Sweets, already. Something sweet always seems to sound good when nothing else does (Root beer floats, ice cream sundaes, cinnamon bears, chocolate chip cookies)&lt;br /&gt;5. More meat&lt;br /&gt;6. Less pasta&lt;br /&gt;7. Prenatal vitamins, good for me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-7097690405782358389?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/7097690405782358389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=7097690405782358389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/7097690405782358389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/7097690405782358389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2010/01/what-im-eating.html' title='What I&apos;m eating'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-955523922369503334</id><published>2010-01-23T08:28:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T08:38:12.292-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soul'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>All over again</title><content type='html'>Do I really want to do this all over again? Yes I do. Well, have my 6th baby, that is. I'm not sure I want to blog about it. Last time it wasn't too interesting or consistent. But since I don't journal that well, I'm going to give this a go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out I was pregnant after only about 2 weeks, before I missed my period, because I was having some serious and unusual pains. I went in and found out all was well, no ectopic pregnancy etc. I also found out I was pregnant, which I suspected and why I was worried about the pain. I had a slight UTI, and so the doctor gave me a prescription. I was pretty doubtful. I've had my share of bladder infections, and trust me, this didn't feel anything like them. It felt like my uterus was going to fall out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I took the pills and about a week later I was all better. At least the pain was better. I felt happy as can be the whole time. I couldn't stop smiling. I can't wait to welcome another sweet, pure, innocent, perfect and totally unique child into our family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so our due date is August 2, and we are waiting. Waiting to get rid of the sick stomach all day long. Waiting to have enough energy to dry my hair after I shower. Waiting to tell all my friends (loved ones already know.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pregnancy is a lot of waiting for me. But less so than that first baby. After a week or two during this pregnancy, (before I felt sick, which always keeps the pregnancy in mind) I found myself only remembering that I was pregnant morning and night when I'd pray for health and strength and a healthy little baby to grow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I wish I'd appreciated those days more. I was wondering if something was wrong because I didn't feel ANYTHING for so long. But the lovely sickness came, and there was no miscarriage. And now I'm 12 weeks along and feeling a little better (maybe?). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, so good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-955523922369503334?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/955523922369503334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=955523922369503334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/955523922369503334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/955523922369503334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2010/01/all-over-again.html' title='All over again'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-5198022399132002429</id><published>2010-01-22T15:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T15:39:55.034-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soul'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>Movement</title><content type='html'>As I lay on my floor today, looking at a book, I could feel my baby growing, small and hard inside.  And then, I could feel that sweet body moving!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a glory life is!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-5198022399132002429?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/5198022399132002429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=5198022399132002429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5198022399132002429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5198022399132002429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2010/01/movement.html' title='Movement'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-4821817080305086913</id><published>2008-04-12T15:37:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T15:39:25.092-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soul'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>Busy</title><content type='html'>I'll see you in a while; let you know how things went. Until then, I'm busy.&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r2J2TBkCgqE/SAErxnifKBI/AAAAAAAABV0/_ubd9pMJ130/s1600-h/CharityBrookecloseup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r2J2TBkCgqE/SAErxnifKBI/AAAAAAAABV0/_ubd9pMJ130/s400/CharityBrookecloseup.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188476377134737426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-4821817080305086913?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/4821817080305086913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=4821817080305086913' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/4821817080305086913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/4821817080305086913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2008/04/busy.html' title='Busy'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_r2J2TBkCgqE/SAErxnifKBI/AAAAAAAABV0/_ubd9pMJ130/s72-c/CharityBrookecloseup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-5700440806338736068</id><published>2008-04-03T18:13:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T18:16:23.195-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>By the numbers</title><content type='html'>39 weeks, 5 days, 19 hours and 43 minutes&lt;br /&gt;3 cm&lt;br /&gt;60% effaced&lt;br /&gt;95% tired&lt;br /&gt;100% sick of making dinners&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-5700440806338736068?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/5700440806338736068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=5700440806338736068' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5700440806338736068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5700440806338736068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2008/04/by-numbers.html' title='By the numbers'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-3674773642765381252</id><published>2008-04-02T15:21:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T15:48:16.407-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soul'/><title type='text'>Can I see your tummy?</title><content type='html'>About a month ago, Andrew developed a keen interest in my tummy. He always wants to see my tummy. This must be bare skin. So I untuck, uncover and let him see my baby bump. He rubs it and kisses it and lays his head on it. It's very endearing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once, several weeks ago, he was seeing my tummy when he hopped down off the couch. He took a few running steps, paused to turn around and said to me sternly, &lt;br /&gt;"Don't go away." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He kept his eyes on me as he took a few steps, "Don't go." And off he ran. It was clear that I was NOT to put my tummy away. He came back in a few seconds with a wet wipe from his room. He hopped up on the couch and started wiping my tummy. He kept at it for quite some time, till the wipe was all dried up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This became a new tradition. Andrew would ask to see my tummy, I'd whip it out, he'd run for a wipe and clean me off. It is quite cute and sweet although I'm not sure what he thinks he's cleaning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago, I was straitening up the nursery for our imminent arrival when I found this stash:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r2J2TBkCgqE/R_P9q12cVxI/AAAAAAAABVQ/M23OjhkMTB4/s1600-h/basketwipes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r2J2TBkCgqE/R_P9q12cVxI/AAAAAAAABVQ/M23OjhkMTB4/s400/basketwipes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184766508485334802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping they are just nice and clean from my tummy, but I'm not taking any chances.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-3674773642765381252?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/3674773642765381252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=3674773642765381252' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/3674773642765381252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/3674773642765381252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2008/04/can-i-see-your-tummy.html' title='Can I see your tummy?'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_r2J2TBkCgqE/R_P9q12cVxI/AAAAAAAABVQ/M23OjhkMTB4/s72-c/basketwipes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-2142849552235552297</id><published>2008-04-02T15:15:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T15:21:07.026-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>39 weeks and counting. . .</title><content type='html'>. . .the hours! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here you are, a nice picture of my new haircut and my growing tummy. Matt didn't exactly get all the tummy glory here, but you get the idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r2J2TBkCgqE/R_P3kF2cVvI/AAAAAAAABVA/6U46AKGhkJY/s1600-h/pregnanthaircut.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r2J2TBkCgqE/R_P3kF2cVvI/AAAAAAAABVA/6U46AKGhkJY/s400/pregnanthaircut.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184759795451451122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm contracting fairly often, but certainly not regularly. Almost every time I stand up from sitting I have one. On Sunday and Monday my biggest problem was a terrible kink in my neck that I woke up with. With no Tylenol in sight, I suffered through the day. I finally got some yesterday, and have been doing better. I also got some Tylenol PM and slept for a solid 4 hours last night before starting my every hour vigil. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really hoping to birth this girl this week, but I'm not feeling it. I was on Sunday, but things seem to be mellowing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-2142849552235552297?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/2142849552235552297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=2142849552235552297' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/2142849552235552297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/2142849552235552297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2008/04/39-weeks-and-counting.html' title='39 weeks and counting. . .'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_r2J2TBkCgqE/R_P3kF2cVvI/AAAAAAAABVA/6U46AKGhkJY/s72-c/pregnanthaircut.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-4793065303857313457</id><published>2008-03-21T11:11:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T19:10:58.990-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>Head down, bum up</title><content type='html'>Almost 38 weeks and. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Head down, bum up (or at least kind of sideways) And if you don't know what this alludes to, you cannot claim to have been educated in the 80's, or at least not in rural Idaho. Or YOU WOULD KNOW! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sciatic nerve: acting up&lt;br /&gt;girl nursery deco: going up&lt;br /&gt;clean baby girl clothes: still down (as in the basement)&lt;br /&gt;pre-registered at the hospital: down with that, as in oh yeah, I did that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-4793065303857313457?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/4793065303857313457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=4793065303857313457' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/4793065303857313457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/4793065303857313457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2008/03/head-down-bum-up.html' title='Head down, bum up'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-7758667522064854758</id><published>2008-03-17T16:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T16:28:48.483-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>37 weeks and counting</title><content type='html'>My stomach hits about mid thigh when I kneel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sleep is broken into about 5 sections each night; sleep, wake, use bathroom, lay down on left side, sleep, wake, use bathroom, lay down on right side, and on and on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My toenails are in serious need of attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hair is about to be cut off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sciatic nerve exploded the other day, but feels better after following my midwife's advice for stretching those hamstrings (which is easier said than done with a twenty pound brick attached to your gut).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My baby is NOT breach anymore, head down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My status is 2 cm and 50% effaced. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My back is oh so sore and ready for my massage on Thursday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm physically ready; otherwise, still a lot of work to do!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-7758667522064854758?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/7758667522064854758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=7758667522064854758' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/7758667522064854758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/7758667522064854758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2008/03/37-weeks-and-counting.html' title='37 weeks and counting'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-4811664636428412635</id><published>2008-03-07T08:03:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T08:20:13.979-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>Nightmares</title><content type='html'>You know you're pregnant when:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday night you dream about your daughter leaning too far over a railing on a many decker boat and she falls down and bounces on the wood floor below as you watch screaming, and try to run down the stairs to her as fast as you can. And then. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday you dream about looking out a window up high and seeing people jumping to their doom over a large bridge and you shout out to them to not, but they do anyway. And then you see a mom lift her daughter's legs over and dump her while she clings to the rail for her life and she doesn't listen to your pleading either. And then. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday you dream that you are in a nice hotel with your family and all of a sudden a gaggle of police descend to make a drug bust and your family is in the middle of it and hears the shooting and sees the blood and the bodies/people lined up by the policemen to be taken in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the real nightmare is that you went for an appointment and the midwife said that your baby is so advanced that she has flipped around and instead of living upside down for the next month she is trying her hand at tap dancing on your bladder instead and you realize that you are going to have to lay upside down with all the blood rushing to your head and your back hurting, and your stomach cramping many times a day just to try and get the little rascal upside down again. Sighhhh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's breach.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-4811664636428412635?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/4811664636428412635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=4811664636428412635' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/4811664636428412635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/4811664636428412635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2008/03/nightmares.html' title='Nightmares'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-8135065986810307930</id><published>2008-03-04T12:22:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T12:23:51.096-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>Choosing a name</title><content type='html'>Still no name. Still avoiding the issue. Read a rousing rehearsal of the whole ordeal &lt;a href="http://mywiferules.blogspot.com/2008/03/wife-rule-24-baby-names-are-never.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-8135065986810307930?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/8135065986810307930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=8135065986810307930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/8135065986810307930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/8135065986810307930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2008/03/choosing-name.html' title='Choosing a name'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-5993518485642983260</id><published>2008-03-04T12:08:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T12:22:04.225-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soul'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>5 weeks and counting</title><content type='html'>Here's how it feels to be me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am dead tired by 8 P.M., ready to sleep all night.&lt;br /&gt;I am still tired at 7 A.M., but my body doesn't want to be in bed anymore, it's sore.&lt;br /&gt;My hips are all loose and my back is all tight. &lt;br /&gt;I can't eat much, my stomach resides somewhere between my spleen and my trachea.&lt;br /&gt;To kneel and pray, my legs have to be spread out to make room for my tummy.&lt;br /&gt;Sitting down and bending over to put on kids' shoes, just not happening.&lt;br /&gt;I really want to eat pumpkin bread, I really don't want to eat dinner.&lt;br /&gt;At 4 P.M. I often need a time out for crankiness and a nap.&lt;br /&gt;My stomach is practicing with little hick-up contractions.&lt;br /&gt;I cry over ruined dinner and spend the night hiding in my room.&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to have this little girl come meet us, but I'm worried that I'm not ready yet either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-5993518485642983260?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/5993518485642983260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=5993518485642983260' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5993518485642983260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5993518485642983260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2008/03/5-weeks-and-counting.html' title='5 weeks and counting'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-8784599857428757322</id><published>2008-02-12T20:16:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T20:23:55.984-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>Losing my mind</title><content type='html'>Today I went to see my midwives.  I ended my Primary meeting early, dropped Scott off at preschool, bundled Andrew up and was off.  I got there, signed in and gave them my little sample.  I sat down and was soon called over to the front desk.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Brooke, I don't have you down for an appointment until the 19th." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ooooh."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're really busy and I don't think I can squeeze you in today.  I'm sorry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's okay.  I really don't need one (or want one)."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let me write you out an appointment card."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks, I apparently need one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get back in the car and head home.  Duh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pregnancy will do that to you.  Never mind that I checked the calendar about 5 times.  Never mind that I was there just LAST WEEK!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, at least I didn't have to wait long today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-8784599857428757322?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/8784599857428757322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=8784599857428757322' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/8784599857428757322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/8784599857428757322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2008/02/losing-my-mind.html' title='Losing my mind'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-414067807579044899</id><published>2008-01-08T22:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T22:30:50.176-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>Maternity fashion</title><content type='html'>Well, I didn't really think I would, but I made it through December in my normal clothes. I couldn't have done it without my trusty tummy sleeve (cheap cousin to the Bella band). However, over Christmas I really seemed to pop out. I am wondering what to do. Despite this being my 5th pregnancy, I have only 3 pairs of maternity pants, and two I am giving to charity, no questions asked. I haven't been pregnant in the winter since my first, so I have a plethora of capris, but no pants. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have looked around a little, and haven't found much. I am still resisting and using my tummy sleeve. Will I go clear to the end without comfy and cute maternity pants? Where did you find some? I need help.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-414067807579044899?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/414067807579044899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=414067807579044899' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/414067807579044899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/414067807579044899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2008/01/maternity-fashion.html' title='Maternity fashion'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-8461041902291467827</id><published>2008-01-03T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T09:32:30.813-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>The Holidays</title><content type='html'>The start of heart burn, really popping out, gaining a little baby weight a little too fast, the holidays were good to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a related note, I made it through December without wearing maternity clothes! I couldn't have done it without my tummy sleeve (cheap cousin to the Bella band). I tried on all my maternity clothes from the previous four pregnancies and was flabbergasted. They were largely awful. Not to mention I only own 4 pairs of maternity pants, a million capris, only four awful pants. I haven't been pregnant in the winter since my first. I guess a little shopping is in order.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-8461041902291467827?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/8461041902291467827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=8461041902291467827' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/8461041902291467827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/8461041902291467827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2008/01/holidays.html' title='The Holidays'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-6767075438144293302</id><published>2007-12-20T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T15:15:33.513-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>And the doctor says. . .</title><content type='html'>Make that the midwife. And all she said was my ligaments were causing my trouble and pain and tears and hunched over-ness. Well, at least two times when I was in serious pain on my right side they were the trouble. I hope it doesn't pick up speed and frequency, but things seem to accelerate during pregnancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like my weight, I'm sure all of these pounds are from baby, NOT ONE from the holiday overload.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-6767075438144293302?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/6767075438144293302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=6767075438144293302' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/6767075438144293302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/6767075438144293302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/12/and-doctor-says.html' title='And the doctor says. . .'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-3915840501061414602</id><published>2007-12-18T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T14:16:55.110-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>Taking up space</title><content type='html'>Our little, growing daughter is taking up a lot of real estate in my abdomen. People often remark that I barely look pregnant and where could the baby be. Well, let me tell you, she is taking up residence in my rib cage, using my diaphragm as a pillow, or maybe a foot rest. Sometimes I wish she'd just poke my tummy out and leave my lungs and digestive system alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-3915840501061414602?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/3915840501061414602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=3915840501061414602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/3915840501061414602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/3915840501061414602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/12/taking-up-space.html' title='Taking up space'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-7725026200116115012</id><published>2007-12-11T08:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T08:31:32.645-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>Tummy pains</title><content type='html'>I have stopped sleeping on my stomach.  It is uncomfortable and just plain hurts sometimes.  Some sad day in the not-to-distant future I will become a fully side sleeper.  But until then, at least I still have my back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-7725026200116115012?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/7725026200116115012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=7725026200116115012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/7725026200116115012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/7725026200116115012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/12/tummy-pains.html' title='Tummy pains'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-8856504944872386726</id><published>2007-12-06T16:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T16:33:21.371-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>Patterns of x and y</title><content type='html'>Long ago Matt's parents became aware that we were following there pattern for marriage and family quite closely.  Our ages are 3 years apart.  We had two boys first and then two girls.  But we have outgrown them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend my mom realized that we were completely opposite (at least child-wise) from my parents.  They went boy, girl, boy, boy, girl, girl.  We have been, girl, girl, boy, boy, girl.  We only need a last boy to complete the reversal.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I have to say is, that is a lot of x's and y's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-8856504944872386726?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/8856504944872386726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=8856504944872386726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/8856504944872386726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/8856504944872386726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/11/patterns-of-x-and-y.html' title='Patterns of x and y'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-5448434345561538289</id><published>2007-12-03T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T10:58:19.080-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soul'/><title type='text'>Carefree charity</title><content type='html'>The other day I was slightly (ever so slightly) raising my voice to get the attention, change the behavior or just voice my displeasure of one of my already birthed children for the millionth time.  It wasn't the most charitable moment of parenting. Just then I felt our little un-birthed girl give a little kick.  It gave me cause to ponder.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling her move reminded me of a wholely unslefish act, a nine month trip down maternity lane, that I started four months ago.  I was grateful for the reminder.  Even as I was being uncharitable from my own mouth, my body was giving its all for someone else in complete charity.  I can be good and giving person.  It just happens to be easier when you only have to make one decision and it gives you nine whole months of good acts!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-5448434345561538289?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/5448434345561538289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=5448434345561538289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5448434345561538289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5448434345561538289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/12/carefree-charity.html' title='Carefree charity'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-1028258539648808048</id><published>2007-11-29T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T08:46:19.029-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>Seeing into the future (or womb)</title><content type='html'>We (the baby and me) had our ultrasound last week amid the holiday rush. Matt was there too. The kids were home with a babysitter. I love the ultrasound experience. About the time when I start really feeling bustlings inside me, I get to watch them on screen too. This time we got an especially great view of the heart, all four chambers, valves etc. And we saw a cute face, fingers, toes, spine, brain, legs and elbows. All the essentials. Then we looked down under.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what to our wondering eyes should appear but a little girl waiting to bolster the estrogen around here! We were kind of thinking girl. And I'll admit that I was thinking a little less kamikaze-like boyishness would be helpful to my nerves (and my house's walls). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parenthetically, when Matt got home from the doctor (where I was still waiting to talk to the midwife) to work from the house, the kids asked "Where have you been anyway?" But they never asked if they would be having a brother and sister. They finally caught on and when I got home we told them. The girls cheered; Scott looked confused and then crestfallen. Then his little lip quivered and he looked really sad. He asked "Why didn't Heavenly Father want to make it a boy?" We assured him that maybe He would send a boy next time. (Oh dear.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now we are in the baby name list-making stage. So if you've got any good ideas. . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-1028258539648808048?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/1028258539648808048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=1028258539648808048' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/1028258539648808048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/1028258539648808048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/11/seeing-into-future-or-womb.html' title='Seeing into the future (or womb)'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-2833410380381614557</id><published>2007-11-16T10:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T10:13:39.443-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soul'/><title type='text'>Baby spirits</title><content type='html'>After Scott's surgery, I was holding him as he slept off his anesthesia.  He was in a bit of pain and not entirely happy.  But for the moment he was sleeping.  As I rested, I could feel his heart beating on my stomach.  I thought about when I could hear my new baby's heartbeat emmanating from the same place.  What happy thoughts and feelings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind flitted to surgery.  I wondered if Scott's angel Grandpa was perhaps with him through surgery.  It made me happy to think that.  Just then, under Scott's leg, I felt a strong kick and movement that lasted several minutes.  I haven't felt the baby move like that ever.  The thought occured to me that maybe Scott's little brother or sister was there with him instead.  It seemed right.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows?  Maybe those we guard through life were guarding us first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-2833410380381614557?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/2833410380381614557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=2833410380381614557' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/2833410380381614557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/2833410380381614557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/11/baby-spirits.html' title='Baby spirits'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-7666804760809235114</id><published>2007-11-15T16:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T17:01:16.516-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>Dreams</title><content type='html'>I dreamed a dream in days gone by (last night)&lt;br /&gt;That hope was high&lt;br /&gt;And life worth living (I had my baby without any pain)&lt;br /&gt;I dreamed that love would never die  (I was in a hospital room that looked like a bathroom and had the same goldish linoleum as my Mom's bathroom, speak of love never dying)&lt;br /&gt;I dreamed that God would be forgiving (I was giving birth in a bathroom remember)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I was young and unafraid  (I had no husband there and no doctor)&lt;br /&gt;And dreams were made and used and wasted (like the strip of toilet paper the janitor draped over the drawers to keep things clean)&lt;br /&gt;There was no ransom to be paid &lt;br /&gt;No song unsung, no wine untasted  (hmmm, I don't drink wine, just whine)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the tigers come at night (It was day acutally)&lt;br /&gt;With their voices soft as thunder (the nice janitor girl mopping the floor with my &lt;a href="http://aspotofsun.blogspot.com/2007/08/in-name-of-human-progress.html"&gt;old blue mop&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt; pretty nice)&lt;br /&gt;As they tear your hope apart (I realized I was already having the baby, half of her was out, the bottom half.  She was reaching her hands onto my tummy and patting her still un-birthed head)&lt;br /&gt;And they turn your dream to shame  (I'm ashamed I just admitted that freaky part of my dream)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He slept a night by my side  (Actually it was a girl baby and she was just fine after one nice, painless push)&lt;br /&gt;(S)he filled my days with endless wonder (Babies do that)&lt;br /&gt;(S)he took my childhood in (her) stride&lt;br /&gt;But (s)he was gone when autumn came (She turned to a boy at the end of my dream)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And still I dream (s)he'll come to me (I really want a painless birth)&lt;br /&gt;That we will live the years together&lt;br /&gt;But there are dreams that cannot be (Thank heavens this is one of them)&lt;br /&gt;And there are storms we cannot weather (Like next Monday it is supposed to be a high of 32)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a dream my life would be&lt;br /&gt;So different from this birth I'm living (painless is the key)&lt;br /&gt;So different now from what it seemed &lt;br /&gt;Now life has killed the dream I dreamed. (I'll still be happy even with a little, or a lot, of pain if it only takes one push :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-7666804760809235114?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/7666804760809235114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=7666804760809235114' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/7666804760809235114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/7666804760809235114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/11/dreams.html' title='Dreams'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-6073678294018735750</id><published>2007-11-09T10:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T10:34:34.252-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>Still a little sick</title><content type='html'>I think I've been feeling sicker with this baby.  I have been having a sour stomach again, nothing sounds good to eat.  Blah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially &lt;br /&gt;1. pumpkin cookies, and I LOVE pumpkin cookies&lt;br /&gt;2. pizza&lt;br /&gt;3. cereal&lt;br /&gt;4. dinner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe this means a girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-6073678294018735750?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/6073678294018735750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=6073678294018735750' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/6073678294018735750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/6073678294018735750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/11/still-little-sick.html' title='Still a little sick'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-3163816566657197994</id><published>2007-11-07T12:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T13:04:39.548-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soul'/><title type='text'>Wonder of Wonders</title><content type='html'>My sweet Scott was all scheduled to have surgery last Thursday. We got up early and trekked southward to the hospital. Scott was nervous and tired and thirsty. We spent an hour-and-a-half there before deciding to wait 2 weeks to let his tonsils shrink and his throat un-swell to accommodate the trach tube. We got in the car and headed north again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was pretty quiet on the way home. Scott wasn't asleep though. We had talked for a while, and I'd ascertained that he was glad the day of reckoning was delayed. As we drove along in the too quiet car, I decided to put on some music. We happened to have Fiddler on the Roof in the cd player. Scott is in love with that cd. He especially likes the song Wonder of Wonders. So I turned it on and fast forwarded to track 6. "It was a miracle," it started. Scott immediately perked up, smiled, and started singing along. I immediately started smiling too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We listened to it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked about the miracles in the song. I thought about the miracles in my life. I thought about him, his desires, his loves, his less than sweet habits, his possibilities. I know I can't give him everything, but I can give him a smile. And in that moment when I saw him smile, I was as happy as I could be. I was full. In giving him happiness, my happiness was complete. I realized (again) just what a miracle and blessing parenthood is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as the song ended "But the most miraculous thing of all. . .God has given you to me," I agreed. Scott, and my other kids and my growing baby are the most miraculous things of all my life and I am so happy that God has given them to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-3163816566657197994?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/3163816566657197994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=3163816566657197994' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/3163816566657197994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/3163816566657197994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/11/wonder-of-wonders.html' title='Wonder of Wonders'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-6463829971626908859</id><published>2007-10-23T13:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T13:35:32.723-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>16 weeks and 90 minutes</title><content type='html'>I had my 16ish week appointment today.  I was there 90 minutes.  Andrew was there with me.  He was perfect.  Not one whine.  Baby was there too.  His/her heart was beating hard, taking all my nutritous Halloween candy to his developing brain!  We saw our midwife for about 7 minutes I would guess, including her leaving to find a doppler thing.  Which was fine.  On my fifth go around, I pretty much understand what to expect and what my body is doing to torture me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four more weeks and we'll know if it will be pink and calm or blue and wild (that is how it works, right?).  The day before Thanksgiving is the big ultrasound day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-6463829971626908859?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/6463829971626908859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=6463829971626908859' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/6463829971626908859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/6463829971626908859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/10/16-weeks-and-90-minutes.html' title='16 weeks and 90 minutes'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-3635789095254803030</id><published>2007-10-18T11:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T11:55:23.543-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soul'/><title type='text'>Love you</title><content type='html'>Dear little 5th child,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you. I really do. I'm sorry that I can't lay around all day, nap and dream of you. I'm busy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I wish I wasn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just getting you ready for our family. Just like you are preparing me for you by sending me to the bathroom multiple times a night, I'm hoping to break you in slowly. We all love each other a lot here. We will baby you and spoil you, I promise. Maybe not as much as Dawn, but look how she turned out :-). But we are a bit busy. It's fun, you'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait to meet you. Send a postcard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, Mom&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-3635789095254803030?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/3635789095254803030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=3635789095254803030' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/3635789095254803030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/3635789095254803030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/10/love-you.html' title='Love you'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-7798177280218397779</id><published>2007-10-09T15:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T15:36:42.400-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>A knot in my stomach</title><content type='html'>When I lay on my tummy, one of two things happen.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One, if I'm on a soft surface, my bed or a couch, I feel fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two, if I'm on the floor, I feel a knot in my stomach that hurts.  It's a baby, and it's growing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-7798177280218397779?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/7798177280218397779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=7798177280218397779' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/7798177280218397779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/7798177280218397779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/10/knot-in-my-stomach.html' title='A knot in my stomach'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-2563631294362869614</id><published>2007-10-01T08:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T08:26:10.339-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>Feelin' groovy</title><content type='html'>I've been putting off this post just in case it would jinx me. But I seem to be doing better. About a week ago, I woke up feeling a little bit energetic, like enough to get off the couch and maybe buy some diapers. But I was worried that it wouldn't last. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my luck has held. I've felt more energetic and my stomach less sour. I wouldn't say I'm ready for a marathon, but I did walk to my girls' school to take them a forgotten lunch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This 13th week is off to a good start.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-2563631294362869614?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/2563631294362869614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=2563631294362869614' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/2563631294362869614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/2563631294362869614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/10/feelin-groovy.html' title='Feelin&apos; groovy'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-142260021068456140</id><published>2007-09-25T08:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T08:31:21.640-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>Don't touch the belly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r2J2TBkCgqE/RvkZmLBPfpI/AAAAAAAAAlo/3Kx8BRf8zfk/s1600-h/maternityclothes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r2J2TBkCgqE/RvkZmLBPfpI/AAAAAAAAAlo/3Kx8BRf8zfk/s400/maternityclothes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114146995439632018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This shirt from Molly Anna is awesome! I found it at &lt;a href="http://www.designmom.com/2007/09/don.html"&gt;Design Mom&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;"Maternity Wardrobe $2,408&lt;br /&gt;Nursery Furniture $1,317&lt;br /&gt;Touching my belly $5&lt;br /&gt;Some things money can't buy.&lt;br /&gt;For everything else, you need cold hard cash."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not mortally offended, but yeah, it really bugs me. I'm not obviously at that stage yet, but it will come. If I want you to feel my baby moving or hiccuping, or if I want you to gauge how much is fat verses baby, or if I just want a reassuring pat, I'll let you know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. It's all baby! During late pregnancy that is my favorite part. I never have to suck it in ever! I take pride in my firm and toned baby tummy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-142260021068456140?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/142260021068456140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=142260021068456140' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/142260021068456140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/142260021068456140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/09/dont-touch-belly.html' title='Don&apos;t touch the belly'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_r2J2TBkCgqE/RvkZmLBPfpI/AAAAAAAAAlo/3Kx8BRf8zfk/s72-c/maternityclothes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-3638492903581407181</id><published>2007-09-24T10:18:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T10:23:17.316-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh</title><content type='html'>Your heart may go thub dub, but baby Curtis goes whoosh whoosh whoosh, very fast I might add.  I think baby is going to be robust and perfect.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One appointment down.  One heartbeat, one midwife, two kids and one husband, one pap smear (not nearly so bad after 4 kids especially when they are in the waiting room), one breast exam, one bill, and one hour and 15 minutes down.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's really how it went down.  Just keeping it real for you all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-3638492903581407181?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/3638492903581407181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=3638492903581407181' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/3638492903581407181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/3638492903581407181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/09/whoosh-whoosh-whoosh.html' title='Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-1590700385669368603</id><published>2007-09-19T10:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T10:23:23.989-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>Enjoying it</title><content type='html'>I am officially going to start enjoying sitting on the couch, reading or blogging, taking a nap or just hanging out instead of doing all the stuff my stomach doesn't seem up to.  All that stuff sounds fun right, well, starting today I'm going to enjoy it.  I might as well.  I won't be enjoying a clean house anytime soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-1590700385669368603?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/1590700385669368603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=1590700385669368603' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/1590700385669368603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/1590700385669368603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/09/enjoying-it.html' title='Enjoying it'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-5139236439695301208</id><published>2007-09-18T16:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T16:22:52.712-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>Let the appointments begin. . .</title><content type='html'>I went in for my "orientation"/sign up appointment Monday. I was there an hour doing paperwork, blood and other bodily fluid work. Blah. I waited 20 minutes just to drop off my pee (and get blood drawn). Doctor (or midwife) appointments are not my favorite part of pregnancy. Could it be the endless waiting room minutes, or the endless half naked minutes on a very uncomfortable table in an appointment room waiting for my nurse midwife to examine all my pregnancy glory or the endless search for babysitters so my two boys don't have to make the endless minutes turn into near eternity? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I am official, kind of. I will be back next Monday and will hopefully hear a little heartbeat, a decidedly happy part of any appointment. Let's pray there aren't two. (Did I mention that I dreamt that I was having twins? It was undeniably a nightmare of drastic proportions. Twins for children 5 and 6? Ahhhh! Did I mention my dear aunt has twins for number 8 and 9 and still had a number 10? And do you know that I like endless parenthetical comments?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I am now officially due on April 8, or was it April 5?  I'm sticking to my original date of April 6.  Maybe I should choose another day.  No one else seems to agree, date wheels, nurses, my own rich and full BSN education, so who cares.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-5139236439695301208?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/5139236439695301208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=5139236439695301208' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5139236439695301208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5139236439695301208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/09/let-appointments-begin.html' title='Let the appointments begin. . .'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-1179392348406588554</id><published>2007-09-15T22:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T22:06:01.462-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>Maternity clothes, heaven forbid</title><content type='html'>I've been figuring that I'll wear my normal clothes through December if I was lucky.  Really.  I don't know when I got that idea, but it's just plain crazy!  I'll be 6 months pregnant at the end of December.  Ha, it will never happen.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've revised.  First I was hoping through the end of November.  When do I really start poking out?  I can't remember.  But I'm fairly sure it is before I'm five months pregnant.  Bummer.  I guess that little shopping spree for fall clothes is a little overkill.  But I swear that I'll be wearing them at least through October.  Just try me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll just keep the shoes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-1179392348406588554?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/1179392348406588554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=1179392348406588554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/1179392348406588554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/1179392348406588554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/09/maternity-clothes-heaven-forbid.html' title='Maternity clothes, heaven forbid'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-5334033031849063026</id><published>2007-09-12T16:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T16:43:37.095-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>What to eat.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r2J2TBkCgqE/Ruhri_ZFMAI/AAAAAAAAAjw/Mhn_48s35D0/s1600-h/tacosalad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r2J2TBkCgqE/Ruhri_ZFMAI/AAAAAAAAAjw/Mhn_48s35D0/s400/tacosalad.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109452026128183298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really have a hard time finding something that sounds appatizing.  I do like sweet pickles and cheddar cheese sometimes.  I do crave chocolate sometimes.  I always want a yummy drink, lemonade or a rootbeer freeze.  Besides that, I'm all over the place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made some yummy pumpkin muffins, but they are still sitting in the pantry.  They were really good, just not the right thing.  Fruit seems to do well.  But usually I can only think of one good thing at a time to eat.  No options to choose from.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I ran to the market for some fruit and stuff and ended up bringing home sweet corn puff thingys.  I have never in my life bought those before.  But they were sweet and salty and when I was tired of them, my kids devoured them.  They were the only treat I saw that I wanted.  Really.  That is not a normal thing for me.  I'm not usually picky about my sweets.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So dinner presents a big challange.  Often nothing sounds good at all.  So I procrastinate the day of my repentance and Matt comes home to nothing.  Then we have waffles.  Yesterday taco salad sounded good, never mind that we had 6 chips left and barely enough cheese for a sandwich or two.  We (by that I mean me, Matt, and my neighbor Chris) made it work and I ate a bunch.  Tonight, I'm not feeling so motivated.  What sounds good to you when you are pregnant?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-5334033031849063026?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/5334033031849063026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=5334033031849063026' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5334033031849063026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/5334033031849063026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/09/what-to-eat.html' title='What to eat.'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_r2J2TBkCgqE/Ruhri_ZFMAI/AAAAAAAAAjw/Mhn_48s35D0/s72-c/tacosalad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-6091762818462308756</id><published>2007-09-11T15:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T15:15:38.478-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>Why do we wait?</title><content type='html'>I'm starting to let the news leak out. It is fun to tell. People are always happy to hear. And they ask how you are like they really care all about your morning stomach woes, and they smile at you, and they ask about your future. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why do women like to wait as long as possible to spill the beans? I know, there is the possible miscarriage and "the longer people know and keep asking, the longer those 9 months will seem" excuse. I feel some satisfaction from hearing a person say, "4 months along! I had no idea! You look great!" But as I think about it, doesn't that just mean you always look 4 months pregnant? Hmmm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm trying not to care. Society just seems to frown on that course of action. But the truth is, if you know why I am wearing less makeup, more sweats, my house is less clean and I put off more things, then I'll feel less embarrassed and guilty when I see you next. EVERYONE, I'M PREGNANT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-6091762818462308756?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/6091762818462308756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=6091762818462308756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/6091762818462308756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/6091762818462308756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/09/why-do-we-wait.html' title='Why do we wait?'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-8824303454157193811</id><published>2007-09-04T18:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T18:18:47.214-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>Tired</title><content type='html'>I'm tired.  I guess that sums it up.  Right now, things like a little nap or sitting and reading are taking precedent over blogging.  And blogging isn't too stressful.  Just imagine all the other things that are left undone.  I'll leave it to your imagination.  Real life would probably scare you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-8824303454157193811?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/8824303454157193811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=8824303454157193811' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/8824303454157193811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/8824303454157193811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/09/tired.html' title='Tired'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-7549121262899623787</id><published>2007-08-27T17:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T17:18:52.324-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>Excuses or excuses</title><content type='html'>I'm not feeling great. Does anyone feel great the first few months of pregnancy? So I'm just wondering, am I just making excuses for not doing all my work and being a good mommy or am I really not feeling well and deserve to sit down and veg for a few or many minutes, which is also. . .an excuse. Hmmmm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-7549121262899623787?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/7549121262899623787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=7549121262899623787' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/7549121262899623787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/7549121262899623787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/08/excuses-or-excuses.html' title='Excuses or excuses'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-8135435373195165829</id><published>2007-08-21T17:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T17:15:12.167-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind'/><title type='text'>Getting cranky</title><content type='html'>There is no way to get around it, I am more cranky when I am pregnant. Is it because all my patience is being used up on dividing cell after cell after cell? Or is it because I don't feel so great and am constantly tired? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know is that I feel sorry for my husband and kids. And how's this, I will do my best to suppress my grumpiness knowing that it isn't you, it's me, or maybe the ball of cells rapidly dividing in my uterus. And will you please just smile and laugh together after I leave the room for a time out? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, I need that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-8135435373195165829?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/8135435373195165829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=8135435373195165829' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/8135435373195165829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/8135435373195165829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/08/getting-cranky.html' title='Getting cranky'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-7928546109921159828</id><published>2007-08-20T10:16:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T10:23:48.347-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>Being sick sucks</title><content type='html'>I finally had my first really sick moment. And that was practically all it was, a few hours one morning. But it wasn't pleasant. In my alter ego's words, it sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happened in Newport this last week. I woke up okayish. But it all went downhill from there. I was nauseous, I wanted to throw up. It felt like my body was imploding, eating itself from the inside out.  I was dizzy every time I closed my eyes. It was awful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily my sweet husband took the kids for a walk and left me alone to moan. I finally laid down and slept for a half hour. I awoke with a fairly settled stomach and willingness to go on another day. Blah. Hopefully there won't be many such days in the next 8 months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-7928546109921159828?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/7928546109921159828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=7928546109921159828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/7928546109921159828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/7928546109921159828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/08/being-sick-sucks.html' title='Being sick sucks'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-1130975371582646075</id><published>2007-08-06T20:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T22:47:33.626-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soul'/><title type='text'>Our secret is out!</title><content type='html'>Last night we had a surprise party. I made chocolate chip cookies. We had the kids come in (from some fun and frolicking outside) and get into their pjs. Speaking of pjs, if you have kids and don't have the book &lt;em&gt;Pajama Time&lt;/em&gt;! by Sandra Boynton, you should get it before your next bedtime! Matt told them that they had a surprise for them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, all it takes to get a 4 or 6 year old heart pitter-pattering is mention of a surprise. Rachel (#2) and Scott(#3) came scurrying in asking what I was making. Was that the surprise? Andrew(#4) was carried in and was his happy usual self. Dawn(#1) had already questioned her dad if it was a surprise like a toy surprise or a surprise like Mom was pregnant or something! Well, that did steal our thunder a bit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After everyone was be-jamma-ed we sat down for scripture reading. Matt read a &lt;a href="http://scriptures.lds.org/en/1_ne/11/14,19,21,26,30-32,34-36#14"&gt;special scripture&lt;/a&gt; for the occasion. Do you know the one where Nephi is trying to figure out what the tree in his vision meant? The angel shows him a vision of the virgin Mary bringing the Christ child into the world as a innocent baby. And then he knows. The tree bearing the white fruit was the love of God. How wonderful and touching that symbol is. Having had 4 sweet children pass from heaven to earth through my body, I know the sweetness, even wholeness, that is birth, that is love. Matt loved these scriptures before I did, but they hold a place in both of our hearts now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After finishing the scripture story, Dawn and Rachel were pretty sure what was going on. We announced that next year at Easter time we would be having a new baby join our family! The kids were all excited. Dawn seemed genuinely touched with tears welling up in her eyes. Rachel was excited too. Either Rachel or Scott piped up with, "remember that we got presents when Andrew was born!" Joy, a new baby and a present. How much better can it get! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After swearing our kids to secrecy, we kissed them all soundly and sent them to bed, after they were plastered with gooey chocolate chip cookies that is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now Rachel thinks I'm showing all ready. I sadly explained that I would not be showing for several months if all goes well. She replied that I better not eat any sweets for the rest of the week. My only solace came as she quipped as she skipped out the door that daddy better, too. It could be a contest. She has also been the one to continually pat my tummy today and smile at me. Dawn will smile at me knowingly or say she can't believe I'm pregnant. The boys don't seem too affected. And that is fine. I'm sure it will start affecting them sooner than they would like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now instead of a two person, very secure secret, we have a more jubilant and significantly less stable 6 person secret. Aren't families warm and comforting?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-1130975371582646075?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/1130975371582646075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=1130975371582646075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/1130975371582646075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/1130975371582646075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/08/our-secret-is-out.html' title='Our secret is out!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-2858070752073982512</id><published>2007-08-01T13:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T14:01:14.541-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>There are worse things than having to pee at 4 am</title><content type='html'>Okay, there are a lot of things worse.  In fact, I don't really mind.  But last night I peed, and then couldn't get back to sleep.  I was up for over an hour!  Lousy.  I even started thinking about how I was going to blog about it in the morning!  Ha.  It was a lot wittier in my 5 am stupor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Scott's birthday party last night, my sister-in-law, who is a new mom, told me that she used to complain about having to pee every hour of the night before she delivered her sweet baby.  She said that she has since taken it all back.  Peeing every hour was a lot simpler than feeding a baby every other hour for an hour or so.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I said, there are a lot of things worse than having to pee at 4 am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-2858070752073982512?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/2858070752073982512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=2858070752073982512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/2858070752073982512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/2858070752073982512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/08/there-are-worse-things-than-having-to.html' title='There are worse things than having to pee at 4 am'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365792306487725022.post-264150495006534616</id><published>2007-07-30T09:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T14:01:31.514-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>One line, no go</title><content type='html'>Two lines though... A BABY!  All Saturday night I saved my pee, and Sunday morning I used my trusty First Response and voila! 3 minutes later I was the proud recipient of two lines. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 4 pregnancies, I pretty much have my body figured out.  About two weeks ago I started noticing.  That pretty much had to be the day after I concieved.  But I swear it's true!  I started peeing.  Really.  All summer long I usually go 3, maybe 4 times a day. But all of a sudden it was 5, 6, or more.  (Sorry about all that urine talk, it was neccessary.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was the dreams.  My dreams drastically change when I'm pregnant.  First of all, I remember them.  Second, they are not pleasant, not horrible, but not pleasant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there I was, here I am, pregnant with a spot of sun right inside me.  I am happy.  I am glowing.  I can't stop smiling.  Perhaps I'm delusional.  Pregnancy has been known to cause that and worse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2365792306487725022-264150495006534616?l=suninmysoul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/feeds/264150495006534616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2365792306487725022&amp;postID=264150495006534616' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/264150495006534616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2365792306487725022/posts/default/264150495006534616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suninmysoul.blogspot.com/2007/07/one-line-no-go.html' title='One line, no go'/><author><name>Brooke</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
