The greatest love in the universe.

It's weird for me to post a mid-day post, but I figured I better go ahead and do it because once I get started with my unpacking I'm not stopping. Plus, the girls are VERY distracted by Ni Hao, Kailan! So, I think I have enough time to blog.

This blog, will definitely be an upbeat one.
About my babies.

It's crazy to think in two months...well, less than 2 months now Ireland will be 2. In less than 4 months now, Kealan will be one. It seems like just yesterday I took seven pregnancy tests to find out if I was pregnant with Ireland. The second time around didn't help; I still took 5. :)

Let's start with Princess Ireland first. I found out I was pregnant with her on Thanksgiving Day 2008. I had been feeling funny for about two weeks so I decided to take a pregnancy test to shut-my-then-husband-up. Well, he was right. I was pregnant. I wasn't sure how to feel. I wanted to have kids but so soon was...scary. I cried when he hugged me, but I wasn't sure if it was because I was HAPPY to see the lines on the test; or because I was downright scared. This lasted for about another month. I went to the OB and saw a little butterbean with nubs on the screen. I heard that little heart beat; I saw that little heart beating at an incredible speed. Right then and there I knew I wanted this. I wanted to be a mommy. I wanted to do whatever I could for this little...nubby butterbean. Most would say that I had an easy pregnancy. That, I did. However, in other aspects it was very difficult. My husband was halfway across the world in a war zone. I was alone. So, it was hard. That peanut in my belly got me through that deployment. It was crazy to go back to the doctor every month and see how much it had changed. You think that would prepare me for a kid growing up so fast. It didn't. The day I went to get an ultrasound to find out about taco/burrito ; hamburger/hotdog ; innie;outie....the Ultrasound Tech wasn't there. My doctor decided she would give me one anyway. She told me it was a boy...or it looked like a boy. Gabriel Hill it was. However, she sheduled me for another one a week later to be sure. A week later, I go in and they tell me: "This is a female child..." My heart jumped for joy, I swear. My husband called from Iraq and asked me the final verdict. "Gabriel or Ireland?" He asked. I told him "We're having an Ireland," I said. It was so nice to know what to call her instead of "it". She started moving and kicking and I could start seeing body parts through my belly when she rolled and punched. It was amazing.

July 23, 2009...was the day I was induced. 6 hours after they broke my water and induced me...I was ready to push. I pushed for an hour. Just so you know, if you haven't had kids...pushing comes in a close second to contractions. That stuff SUCKS. Especially if you are induced and can't eat or drink before. Ice chips do NOT ward off the dizziness. After pushing an hour, on my belly was the stickiest, nastiest, most amazing, gorgeous, beautiful, perfect thing I have ever laid my eyes on. She was a big baby too. 8lbs 3oz. At 3:52 pm that day, I met my heart and soul. :) I deided to name her Lillian Ireland Lee Hill. Lillian is my great-aunt's name. I told her if I had a girl I would name her Lillian. Ireland...I've loved that name since I was little...and Irish culture. I love Irish culture. Lee? That's a BIG family name. My daddy's daddy had it. My daddy has it...it's my middle name also. Now, it's her's. Some people told me not to stick Lee in there...it would make it too long. I mean, look at MY name! :) I did it anyway. I didn't want to chance not having another and not having Lee in the name.

It seems like just yesterday I stayed up all night staring at her in the hospital. Now she's past crawling and rolling over. She's walking and skipping and running. She can do flips and spins and dance. Her vocabulary is RIDICULOUS for a 22 month old. She says the following and more: Mama, Daddy, Dani, Sissy, Bubba, Bobo, Doggy, Murphy, Eat, Amen (she tries to say the entire blessing), Yay, No, Thank You, Help, Ireland, She can count 1, 2,3, Birthday (says she's going to be 2), 'I've GOT...to go...PeePee...' is the cutest sentence she says, I love you, Yo Gabba Gabba (she names ALL the characters), Here You Go, Are you okay?, I'm okay, You alright?, Swing, Push, Uh-oh, Wee, Baby, Bear, Frog, Princess....and the list goes ON and on and on. She's such a talker. She sings too. I swear half of the time she makes up her own songs. She's such a sweet girl too. She loves to play mommy to her baby dolls. :)

Oh, and her little sister.

I found out I was pregnant with that little porkchop on January 14, 2010. I had a spare pregnancy test, from the random testing whenever something felt off. They had all been negative but I had one left. Why not...so I checked. It was positive. I made (again) my then husband...run out to the store to get some more. He got two packs. They all said positive. So, five tests later, I was having another baby.

Did I mention, my first one was ONLY five months old?
Yeah.

Anyway, I called Tricare and they set me up with a doctor out in town, but every time I confirmed the appointment the doctor would tell me the Naval Hospital had canceled it in an effort to make me go there. Shady much? I think so. I hated the naval hospital. However, I finaly got an appointment around 9 weeks (to confirm I was pregnant) and of course, I was. There again was that little nubby butterbean. Again, my heart melted. I was overwhelmed at having two babies, but seeing that little baby on the screen...I knew, again, it's what I wanted.

Now, taking care of a growing baby...one who quickly grew into a toddler while pregnant, is VERY hard. If you've had kids you know why. If you haven't: let me explain: Nausea, vomiting, sore boobs (yeah I'm going there)...and I don't mean, ow don't do that, I mean...graze those suckers and I'll give you a black eye they hurt so bad, growing belly, more nausea, more growing of the belly...if you live in a two story house the stairs become your BIGGEST enemy, laundry and dishes are nearly impossible to do because of the basketball you're lugging around under your shirt, fatigue, backache, swelling of feet and ankles, oh, and the peeing part. You have to go to the bathroom like 21908402980852903485290348259038 times a NIGHT and that's not a joke. So, you're even MORE tired on top of fatigue. And pregnant women...have super sonic smell - so changing diapers...oh...my....good lord....

So, in other, non-graphic terms: it's HARD. it SUCKS. It's worth it. :)

So at 22 weeks: I found out the big boy/girl;pink/blue answer: It was more pink. The husband? Yeah, he laughed and smiled but his heart, I think was set on a boy. Me? I was happy. I had never even changed a boy's diaper. Ireland was the first baby I had ever cared for. I remember how we chose this baby's name.

Rewind four weeks.
I'm in the bathtub...big belly there too. This was weird, because last time we had names chosen so easily. We had Dublin Lyric Hill for a boy this time. Nothing for a girl.
So back to the bath. My "then" husband was sitting in the bathroom with me discussing it. We had just finished watching The Time Traveler's Wife. I love Rachel McAdams. :)
His favorite name was Keelan.
I said: "How about we do Keelan...K E A like my maiden name? Kealan?"
He really liked it. But we had to find a middle name.
"I like Claire," I said, refering to the name of the girl in the movie. Thankfully, he really did too. So, that's how Kealan Claire Hill was chosen. It just fit. Now, that baby is as dimply as the girl who played Claire in the movie. Coincidence? Haha.

Anyway, we left the doctor to pick up Ireland from the daycare, her first and only time at a daycare, and told her she was getting a little sister. She had NO idea what we were talking about...but she grinned from ear to ear. :)

I had never had to go past 39 weeks with a baby. Of course it was only my second child, but still. I was spoiled with Ireland. 39 weeks came and went. I remember the day was really rainy. I told Jonathan: "We need to walk. I haven't walked in awhile and I think if I do something will happen." So, he gives me his military rain-jacket thingy...which looked very awkward on my big belly; and we went on a walk in the rain. We got back and I sat on the couch. I started to feel funny. Our dog was all over me, and Ireland was clingy. Everything that night went normally.

I was on facebook on my cellphone becase I couldn't sleep. I felt funny. I posted "39 weeks 4 days...you gotta be kidding me..." and I remember a friend said "Watch you go into labor tonight." Thirty minutes later...I felt even more funny. I didn't want to wake my husband up because he had work and I didn't want him to be mad or annoyed if he had to take me BACK to the hospital just to be sent home. I was going to make sure it was real. So I walked up and down the stairs. I walked around the kitchen. It hurt when I felt the pains, but it didn't stop me in my tracks.

Well, it eventually did. It was 10 minutes apart. I would walk and BAM...holding my stomach, clinching my eyes, in pain. I made my way as best as I could upstairs and woke him up. "We have GOT to go"...it was 1am. He said are you sure? I grabbed the bed post and grabbed my stomach. I remember that. It was the first time I had felt a contraction that bad. With Ireland, I had drugs the entire time. I began to tear up and nodded. He helped me down the stairs, and into the truck, and left, while his grandma watched Ireland.

That ride royally sucked. The bumps and contractions, dear Lord was the worst pain I've ever felt. The highlight of that ride was him reaching the front gate and rolling down his window saying "I'm not stopping, wife is in labor" and the guy at the gate's eyes got HUGE and he waved us through faster than...well...really fast.

I get to the hospital and I'm waiting for them to tell us that I have to go home and wait. They do that "check" to see if you're dilated. I almost killed the lady. So, yeah, I'm in pain and they make me walk across the hall...I seriously felt like I was going to have the baby right then and there. I made it to my bed, though. They told me I would get an epidural. It took forever and by the time they had the needle at my back, he got caled to an emergency c-section so left me hanging. I had to do it without drugs because my labor was going so fast.

I cannot describe the feeling of contractions to you. It feels like the worst cramps ever, if you're a girl. If you're not ...well it hurts. Imagine someone inside of you stabbing you with a million knives. That's the best I can put it. I'm sure even THAT would feel better than contractions. It's the most horrible pain anyone will ever feel...unless you like lose a limb, but it runs a close second.

Around 4am they come in and check, they tell me they can break my water and me push, or I can wait and let it happen on it's own. I told them to go ahead and break it. That way, I could do something about the contractions: I could push and I could see my baby.

I pushed for maybe 10 minutes; and this was about 4 hours after I got to the hospital. 4:27 am on September 28, 2010 I gave birth to a 7 1/2 lb baby girl. She was so tiny. That's the first thing I remember saying. "Hey sweetheart! Oh my gosh she's so tiny!" and I kissed her slimey little head and told her I loved her and thank you for finally deciding to see me. :)

Now, that little girl is almost walking. She's crawling and talking, not really forming words, but she's talking. She knows her name. She knows her mommy...she's the biggest mommy's girl I've ever seen. The happiest baby in the world. She could be sick as a dog and she's got that big old smile on her face, big dimples shining. She's got the prettiest blue eyes and blonde hair. That little girl can turn your day around with that smile. She's like a living baby doll.

I guess I wrote this to just think about how much they've changed. How much everything has changed. Its amazing to watch them grow up; but sometimes you still wish they were small...tiny little newborn babies who don't know anything. Now, they know too much and they're only 22 months and 8 months old.

I know for a fact, if I never get married again...I'm definitely adopting. Being a mom is the best feeling in the world. Not only because these little humans loves you more than life and need you; but because YOU love THEM more than life and YOU NEED them. :)

To answer the biggest question I'm asked: Yes, having two kids so close in age does wear you out. It makes you crazy and want to pull your hair out some days. But when one smiles at you or the other says "I love you, Mommy"...the hard parts disappear. Nothing in this world can compare to being a mother. NOTHING. I respect the decision of people to not want to have kids; but I feel sorry for them, that they will never experience the greatest love in the universe. :)