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Zoey turned two and Stoney turned twenty-three, shortly after, Jack turned thirty-four, and thirty-seven minutes after his special day was over, our newest arrival made his debut in the middle of the night. From now on, the end of April and beginning of May is going to be a birthday fest, crammed into a four-day window. That’s a lot of cake we’ll be eating.

Meet Peter Grant–8lbs 11.7oz and 22 3/4 inches long!
It wasn’t really a surprise that I went overdue with this baby–it’s a track record I have with nearly every one of my other children, regardless their healthy size (when I say healthy, I mean HUGE). So, after some discussion with my midwife, we scheduled an induction date and I didn’t bother hanging onto hope that my baby would come out any earlier, despite all the walking, planting, rock dumping, cleaning, and mowing I did to try to convince him otherwise.
My favorite picture so far!
We came in on Jack’s birthday and spent a long day filling out paperwork, starting and then enduring the dreaded Pitocin drip, progressing far enough that I decided on an epidural, then waiting until Peter was ready. The process of getting to the pushing point may take me a while but in less than twenty seconds after I was told to push, he was out on my chest. He apparently had his cord wrapped around his neck but since he came out so smoothly and quickly, there wasn’t anything to be done about it. And just like that, we welcomed a new baby boy into the world.
She’s thrilled to have a baby brother, especially the fun part of trying to adjust his pacifier when it pops out.
One of the coolest parts of this birth was that the hospital was set up to take cord blood and placenta donations, a goal I’ve been trying to accomplish for the past several babies. Basically, instead of throwing away all those stem cells and other incredibly useful tissues, they bagged it up and sent it off, where it’ll help people who’ve got everything from severe burns to cancer. Didn’t cost me a penny or extra drop of sweat. It almost makes me feel like the other five placentas went to waste. Still, really awesome to be able to share that gift this time!
Can’t keep her hands off of Peter even when someone else was holding him.

After the first sleepless night and we got settled in, the hospital stay has been quiet. Most nurses gave me my space once they realize this isn’t my first rodeo but I did have one that liked to give her opinion, especially when it came to what she thought I could and couldn’t do. Secretly, that’s my biggest pet peeve–someone deciding my limitations for me. If someone tries to tell me what I’m not supposed to do, my pride will probably compel me to do it just to spite them. Mostly, I tried to smile and be pleasant when she offered her unsolicited advice, knowing I know my own capabilities, especially by child number six. I can’t promise anyone I won’t get right back to work–even if milder than my normal routine. Work and physical activity might not be for everyone so close after delivery but honestly, I think it’s one of the things that has kept me from postpartum depression because I’m not sitting around and twiddling my thumbs. So, I thanked that nurse when her shift was over, imagining she enjoys imparting her wisdom with first-time mothers, and promptly ignored her forceful declarations of my ability.

Moral of the story: don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I’ll probably ignore you.

The morning Peter was born, Jack drove home and took care of the kids, got the girls to school, renewed his expired license, finished cleaning Parton’s hide, did some errands and chores, then brought dinner and everyone to come visit us in the hospital (Claire even told me she asked her teacher if she could do her homework at school so she could come without having to worry about it). The first time the bigger siblings meet their new baby sibling is always magical and exciting. There’s not a hint of sibling jealousy and they’re all clamoring for a spot in line to hold them. I love that they’re as elated as Jack and I are about having a new addition. I mean, does Henry look at all concerned that he will forevermore have to share with a brother?

Making sure her brother is comfy.

In tradition with letting the kids suggest names for their sibling, we heard a few doozies that we had to turn down, like Crusher or Dragon Prince (I know…we’re so cruel) but eventually, we reigned everyone in and settled on Peter Grant. First of all, Peter…who doesn’t love someone named Peter? Peter Pan, Peter Parker, Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater, the Apostle Peter, Stinky Pete, Pete the Cat…so many awesome Peters and it fit well with the trend of our family’s names more than Tiger Eye (guess who suggested that one).

We’re home!

Grant is a family name that’s always been near and dear to my heart. My Grandmother’s brother was Grant Fritz, except I knew him as Uncle Fritz because all her brothers went by their middle names. Though I never met Great Uncle Fritz since he was shot down in World War II, my grandma’s stories about him have always helped me feel he was truly family to me. So, to honor Uncle Fritz, Peter and him share the name Grant.


We’re all home now, figuring out the new normal that is our life and feeling especially blessed that we’ve been given six beautiful, healthy children that bring so much joy, light, laughter, and wonder into our home (even if it also comes with a heap of dirty laundry, noise at decibels I’m sure will explode my ear drums, and nonstop commotion). Any sacrifice for our family life seems small in comparison to how richly our lives have been blessed. Even though Peter is new, we love him every bit as much as the rest of the kids!

Welcome to existence, Peter!

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True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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