2 Years of True Love

This guy can make the gloomiest day brighter, or he can melt down at the drop of a hat. Yep, he's TWO! And we LOVE our fun, feisty, fragile little guy to pieces!

At his 2 year check-up he had finally caught up on all his motor skill milestones. Every previous check-up I was all, "Uh, he still can't hold his head up and he's like a year old, is this gonna be a problem?" (Only a slight exaggeration.) But just as our sweet pediatrician, and every seasoned parent out there had said, it would all work out, and it did. So, now he climbs on things and gets into trouble with the best of his toddler peers.

He blew out his candles effortlessly!

His weight is still on the chunky end of the spectrum, his head continues to fly off any traditional charts (I think these charts are overdue to be revised), and his height is hard to determine as he'd have to remain still for a few seconds to accurately measure him.

His joy is contagious! Unfortunately, often so is his angst.

He got his first professional haircut this year, clearly the stylist enjoyed it more than he did.

It's a special season full of novlelty and wonder as he discovers new skills all the time, tries out new words every day, and practices counting, letters, and colors with adorable errors.

But in all the newness, the most important thing that's rocked his little world recently, is of course becoming a big brother!

Fortunately, he has a really great role model on big siblings in his sister, and he's taking after her already.

We love you, Isaiah Brantly Charles. Your charm is irresistible, your humor keeps us in stitches, your gentle kindness helps us overlook your tantrums. But even if your moods swung low more than high, we'd love you to the moon and back, 'cause we've decided to. Because although you make it pretty easy, loving you is really a choice. And we will choose it for the rest of our lives.

Paul's Name Story's a Bit Less Intense Than His Birth Story

Our newest bundle of joy, Paul Jonathan Charles is named after two of my very favorite men, my grandfather and my husband, plus a whole lot of others who are really amazing as well.

Between Jon and I, we couldn't think of a single "Paul" we didn't like, we could barely think of any we didn't really love and admire. Is that a weird reason to choose a name for your baby?

Here are just a few of our heroes that inspired us to name our son Paul.

Dr. Paul Scott is my beloved maternal grandfather. My whole life I have been blown away by his selfless serving attitude. Even the rare moments he takes for himself to watch the news or work on his abundant garden are so easily cut short by the request of another for a true need, or even a simple whim, without complaint of the interruption. He constantly takes care of others before giving a thought to himself. His humor, gentleness, hospitality, intelligence, love for languages, thriftiness, and generosity are just a few of the traits we wouldn't mind if he passed down to his namesake and great grandson, Baby Paul.

Dr. Paul hasn't met Paulie yet, so here's a shot of me passing him a pumpkin from his abundant garden a few years ago (appropriate as I like to call Baby Paul, "Pumpkin.")

The New Testament Apostle Paul in the Bible is a second hero of ours, who nicely complements the Old Testament prophet Isaiah that his big brother is named after. When we were choosing a name for little Zy two years ago, Jon and I read through the book of Isaiah to help us decide. This time it was lovely to read through the Pauline epistles and be reminded of Paul's beautiful insights and encouragements to the churches he wrote to, with continued inspiration for us to this day. Here are the few quotes from Paul's writing we chose to frame for little Paulie's nursery, in hopes that they will speak to him throughout his life.

Here's Isaiah's print that shares a wall, and Isaiah's name story from two years ago. 

There are a number of other Pauls we love and respect. Two of whom are dear missionary friends serving overseas.

Paul Hoffman was my pastor, mentor, and beloved confidant as I served in Bolivia for three years. He led our church, challenged me daily to grow in my faith and walk with the Lord, and most heroically runs an orphanage for sick babies, Judah Quy with his wife, Kristin. Their family continues to grow in size and love as they add children through adoption, proving everything he preaches he truly believes and practices. His sacrificial life is evident to all. 

Dr. Paul Evans and his wife Alicia are sweet friends of mine going all the way back to vet school, 13 years ago. Over the past few years Jon has also had the pleasure of getting to know and love them. Last year, Paul sold his share of a vet practice, and they moved their family of five to Zambia to serve with Christian Veterinary Mission long-term. Their honesty, transparency, dry humor, and sweet nature are truly endearing. 

Regarding Paul's middle name, my Jon doesn't go by Jonathan often, but I do love the name. There's a tradition in Jon's family, going back to Baby Paul's great great grandfather, to give the firstborn son the father's first name as a middle name. We broke with that tradition with Isaiah Brantly, but are making it our own with his brother. Since Jon is a second born among a family of firstborns, he has a special place in his heart for the second baby. So we chose to honor Paul with Jon's name.

We'll never know if Jon would always have been as relational with any other name, or if David's friend Jonathan, in the Bible's 1 Samuel, influenced him to be the trusted friend that he is to so many. Either way, we hope Paul Jonathan will be as wonderful at serving, helping, listening to, and loving others as his daddy. 

"The soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as himself." -1 Samuel 18:1

By naming him after so many great men, we don't mean to put too much pressure on him toward greatness, but hope to honor those men, and point Baby Paul Jonathan toward virtues we respect and would love to see in him as he grows into the unique man of character God intends him to be.

A Birth Story... Cause Oh My Word!

I didn't post a birth story per se for Isaiah. I wrote a few notes about how it all went down in his baby book, but didn't want to make him feel too bad about his entry into the world, so I didn't go into many details of the horrors.

I don't know why we even have "birth plans." We didn't exactly have a "plan" this time, but we had a playlist of music ready for labor, some Jim Gaffigan stand-up comedy to distract me during early contractions, and hopes of getting into the birthing tub at the hospital before things got too intense. Jon would have liked to trim his beard and I wouldn't have minded getting a shower and looking presentable for those all-important first photos either. Ha! God must just laugh...

Because I'm an elderly 36 years-old, my OBGYN didn't want me to go past 40 weeks. We convinced them to hedge a tad and give me two days beyond my "due date." Jon had two very busy MBA night classes for the 5 weeks leading up to my due date, February 9th, ending in a final exam going till about 9:30pm that night, but then he had a week off school and could take a week off work. So, I really didn't want to go early. The Lord graciously did let us have that part of our plan.

On Friday, the 10th, Jon went to work and I started with the natural induction wives' tales while I finished up nesting around the house and wrapping up work. We went for a walk that sunny afternoon. Then headed out to Bonefish for some Bang Bang Shrimp, which worked with our firstborn, it seemed extra spicy this time. When we got home my parents, and aunt convinced us to try Castor Oil (Yuck!) to take advantage of the last few hours before I'd be shot up with Pitocin which was kinda the opposite of our "birth plan." I took 2 doses of 1 tablespoon of the laxative by 9:30pm. With my parents in the guest room to take care of the kids for the weekend, assuming we'd be headed to the hospital early in the morning for the induction, Jon and I finally hit our pillows just before 11:30pm, with no signs of labor, but some rumbling in my tummy.

At midnight, I woke up with severe abdominal pain and went to the restroom to see if the Castor Oil was moving things along in the way it's originally intended. It was, but the pains kept coming and when I stood up, the liquid I assumed was probably urine when I sat down, kept coming too. So, after about 3 contractions and some more confidence that my water had definitely broken, I woke Jon up. We had just gotten undressed an hour ago, but we scrambled between contractions to get redressed and gather our things. I think Jon had a hard time believing me when I told him about the start of each contraction so he could time them--they were already averaging 2 minutes apart!!

He called the hospital and told them my water had broken, they said to come on in, but to come through triage or something to get checked before they admitted me. "Tell them how far apart the contractions are!" I shrieked.

When we got to Norton Suburban, at 12:46am, we found a wheelchair, and I screamed as he pushed me through the check-in area. We had to stop to give the desk my social security number. Jon couldn't remember it, so I yelled it out in front a full waiting room. Whoops!

I guess they took me seriously at this point, cause when they found out my water had broken they let us go right back to a room. Things were so intense we didn't even make it to our intended 5b, but ended up in room 1a because it was closer.

I had been begging for someone to get the anesthesiologist since the parking lot, I wanted an epidural STAT! Annoyingly calmly they said they had to check me, get some blood work, and start an IV first. Turns out, they don't always get their plans either.

I was 9cm dilated and ready to push before they could get blood work or an IV. My doctor didn't even make it over from Baptist East (5 min away maybe) even though she ran a red light!

After barely an hour from start to finish (and only 21 minutes in the hospital) of agony, howling, and asking for an epidural, at 1:07am we met our little Paul Jonathan Charles! At 9lbs 11oz, he tore me up, but slightly less than Isaiah did. So, the next hour and a half was pretty miserable as the doctor's repair job took longer than Paul's demolition. Poor kid didn't come out unscathed either as his rapid entry into the world left him bruised and a bit traumatized. Part of the rush was that his heart rate was dropping in utero, so Jon didn't get to catch or cut the cord like he'd "planned" to. We were denied delayed cord clamping cause Paulie needed to get stimulated quickly to get his heart rate up. But after he recovered, we got some extended skin to skin for a couple hours, which was good for both our souls.

At 3:30 or 4am we were transferred to our Mother and Baby room. The nurses checked on us and we settled in. At 5am, a phone started vibrating, and I was all "Who is calling us at this hour?!" We identified the source as my phone in my purse. And as it kept buzzing, it hit me: it was my alarm. It was time to call the hospital and get ready for my induction!
Um, we won't be needing that alarm, or that induction, we're holding our baby now, thanks!!

When they handed me Isaiah 2 years ago, the first thing anyone said was "He's so alert!" Paul seems a little more chill as we've barely seen his eyes open in his first day of life. His feet almost didn't fit on the ink pad for the footprints, and newborn clothes are almost a joke.

Overall, the moral of the story is, you probably don't need to try ALL the wives' tales in one day. Unless you really want to risk having your baby in the car or in the hospital parking lot. Also, for the second time in a row, Bonefish Bang Bang Shrimp for the win!

"Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift!" -2 Corinthians 9:15

(Reasons for the name post to follow soon)