We had our big ultrasound yesterday. Although not so "big" for us as we chose again to stay yellow team. What I can tell you is that the baby looks good, is average size (after Jack, yay!) with really long legs and is very active!



It only seems appropriate that before my appointment I watched a show on Discovery Health called "8 Boys and Wanting a Girl." It was all about families who have boys (some with 4, one with as many as 8), who truly believe their lives will incomplete without a girl.

This is something I've never truly understood - the desire for one gender over another. And some might say that I feel that because I have both, but that isn't true. I was shocked when I had Jack and found out I had a boy. I really believed we were having another girl and was excited about it. Nacho and I have never gone into this "trying" for anything. We didn't plan a 3rd baby in hopes of "finally getting our boy" (which quite frankly is a phrase I'm so tired of hearing), nor did we ever feel we were done because we had one. We have more kids because we want more kids. I love my children for who they are, not what they are.

So, some of these women were willing to try just about anything, including gender selection, while others couldn't afford anything but the hope & pray method. Of the four women, one who did extreme measures, did get twin girls. But she is the one that bothered me the most. She likened not having a girl (keep in mind she had 4 beautiful boys)to not being able to have kids at all. Now, I've never been infertile, so I won't pretend to speak for them, but I can't imagine there is anything that compares to the heartbreak of not being able to have any children if you really want them. She also refused to marry her partner unless he could give her girls. Because she finally got them, she finally agreed to marry him - 17 years and 6 kids later. Something seems wrong with that picture.

Only one of the other women were able to get pregnant again and when she was getting her big ultrasound done, she burst into tears when she found out it was another boy. She came home depressed, like having a healthy baby wasn't good enough. Now like I've said, I don't understand the feeling of need for either gender, which is probably why it's so easy for us to stay yellow team. I guess I can sort of understand the desire to have one of each or hoping for one first. But to let it make you feel like your life isn't complete, especially when you've got beautiful children at home - that I don't understand. And it makes me wonder - do these children suffer because they aren't who their mothers wanted. Do they live with knowing that every day?

For us, boy or girl, we are just thrilled to be adding another member to Team Lua. Either one will complete this family.

Lesson: Slow Down

Background: Samantha is now a cheerleader, which I'll get to in a later post because it really does feel like it's taken over our lives.

Last night, I dropped Sam off at cheer practice and because I had a few minutes to kill before a meeting I had to be at, I decided to stay and watch for a bit. They take attendance and the girls run their lap(s). As a bunch of girls were running the far outside of the blacktop, opposite of where we were, a pick up truck comes barreling through, almost taking out quite a few of our cheerleaders. I watch in horror as this truck comes close to hitting Sam and knowing there is no way for me to get over there in time. By the grace of God, Sam realizes something's up and goes the only other direction she can to avoid getting hit - face first into a basketball pole.

As she comes limping back to me, I go out to meet her. The force has knocked the wind out of her, which has terrified her and she's got a nice bruise forming above her eyebrow. The cheer directer meets me and calls over on her cell to where this guy is going, only to be told that he was trying to get to a hurt football player. Umm, excuse me? So taking out a bunch of cheerleaders to get to an injured football player is somehow ok? The cheer director deals with that, while her coach gets her some ice, but at this point, she's had enough and wants to go home. And who could blame her.

This guy, which I found out later is the grandfather of the hurt player, never once used his horn to warn them he was coming up behind them, nor did he ever come over to see if Sam was ok. I think this is a case where I can truly call someone an asshole and mean it. Because he either didn't see the cheerleaders (next to impossible with 50 of them out there) or he simply didn't care. And I know this because moments later as I was carrying Sam back across the blacktop, he came barreling back through again...while there were still cheerleaders out there.

There is a part of me that wishes I had confronted the guy, but holding my baby was more important at that moment. Not to mention, he was in a truck and he apparently wasn't afraid to use it. I don't know where it will go from here. The football board has said they'll talk to the parents, but I'm not sure how much that will change anything, unless they make a policy that nobody, other than emergency vehicles, can come onto the black top during practices. But something needs to be done because it was only 3 weeks ago when some other asshole decided he didn't want to let a group of 10 of us finish crossing (in a crosswalk!) the parking lot after practice, so he gunned it and swerved around us, barely missing some of the cheerleaders.

So while Sam has a major headache and a nice size bruise & goose egg, she is no worse for wear. And compared to the alternative of what could have happened last night, for that I am thankful.

The lesson: slow down. The 20 seconds you saved, could have taken the life of somebody else.

Updated 9/16 to add: They have closed practices to all vehicles (they are keeping the fire gate locked to all but emergency vehicles) and they have sent out an email to every single parent. I am so glad they are taking this seriously!

Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning?

There are very few songs that can move me to tears anytime I hear them. One of those songs is "Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning?" by Alan Jackson. Every time it plays, I stop what I'm doing and remember where I was on that horrible day. Today, it has been 9 years.



So, where were you when the world stopped turning?

I was in bed with my husband, when our tv came on and we both sat straight up and watched in horror as the 2nd plane struck the World Trade Center. It felt like we were watching a movie - surely this couldn't be real. As we prayed for all those people, it suddenly struck me - my mom and stepdad were flying home from Greece that very morning. I called my dad in a panic and then we sat in silence on the phone as a plane hit the Pentagon. It was at that time we decided it would be better to be together, so we drove down to his house. We sat glued to the tv all day. I'm sure we got up occasionally and we must have eaten, but I don't remember any of it. I do remember endless phone calls to the airlines, trying to get information about my mom, that never connected. I did feel better once they had grounded all flights, and I knew realistically those weren't her flights, as her only connection was in Heathrow, but the not knowing was like a sucker punch. Finally, early the next morning, I received a phone call from her - they were safe in Scotland, where they would spend the next week before being allowed to fly home.

As I listen to my 3 children running around and laughing and I feel my 4th, happily moving inside me, I am deeply humbled and grateful for all that has been sacrificed so I can sit here with my family.

To all the military personal, fire fighters, police officers, flight crews and everyday civilians who gave so much that day - THANK YOU!

ALL GAVE SOME. SOME GAVE ALL. WE WILL NOT FORGET.