31 weeks pregnant and growing

When we first told Ivar we were pregnant, you may remember, I explained the timing by telling him that the baby would come right about the time the combines began to work in the field. At the time (February) there was still snow on the ground, snow that needed to be melted, fields that needed to dry out, seeds that needed to planted and a few hot months to grow that corn healthy and tall. It seemed very far away, but time flies, and here we are with corn taller than my head. The only thing left is for the corn to turn yellow and then for the combines to come. (And actually, this baby will come before the combines harvest the corn, but we're just going to go with it, since the timeline has been so helpful this long...)

Yesterday marked 31 weeks for this little one inside of me. The week we found out we were pregnant with this baby, two dear friends had devastating miscarriages. Both were life-threatening for the mom's and both led to emergency surgery in the hospital. It meant that we were quiet for a long time about our own pregnancy, feeling the sorrow of their loss.  But it has also meant that I have not taken one second of this healthy pregnancy for granted. I am grateful. 

I am overwhelmingly grateful. I have a very active baby inside of me, with flips and tricks unending. At night I can watch my belly roll all around with knees and elbows and a bottom somersaulting in my womb. I don't even have to touch it to feel it, I can see the belly waves through my clothes. It is a joy, and sometimes I need to tell my baby to please tuck its elbow or knee back in, because I feel like I have an internal bruise near my belly button from something jabbing me so hard on the inside. Much of this week I have walked around gently pressing that part of my belly, trying to get that little extremity to stop hurting me.

It's also good that I am grateful to be pregnant, because I have had more hilarious comments this time around than I could ever imagine. I am bigger with this pregnancy than the other two, and people seem to have noticed (pictures posted here are flattering. It's my blog, I can crop how I want to!). A woman in a bathroom asked when I was due and when I said "end of September" her eyes got wide and she said, "Oh I thought you were due any day!" Someone else recently told me, "Based on your size, I bet you'll be early. Really early." And then there are the "you sure it's not twins?!!" 

So far these comments have just made me more amused than hurt. Amused that people still think it's okay to say these things. And I do not let these words sink in very far because the truth is right within me: I have a life growing inside of me. It is a gift. And I won't pout or fret or wish this weight away, because I am carrying a life in my womb.

The very, very best part is that the joy and excitement and love I have for this baby is as strong as the anticipation and eager expectancy that I had with Ivar and Elsie. Sometimes I just smile because I am so happy to have another baby on the way. This baby is wanted, the extra pounds will be worked off eventually, and more than anything I am grateful to be undoubtedly inhabited once again. 

I really like instagram...

I've realized lately that my "quick post blogging" has really taken a hit now that I've gotten so excited about Instagram. It's just so quick and fast to post a picture with the little story that goes with the shot. It's convenient too, right on my phone. And I love capturing my day in one or two pictures.

I know a lot of you reading don't have instagram or want an account, and I totally get that. But if you're ever wondering where I've gone and why it's been a while between posts, you can usually find me pretty consistently over on Instagram. If you look on the right column of my blog there is a section that says "Subscribe" and under that are lots of circles with different icons. If you click on the blue circle with the blue camera, it will take you directly to my instagram page. And there you will find all sorts of quick pictures with quick stories.

If you click on a specific picture, it will pop up in a bigger size with the text I wrote to go along with that picture. And then there is a little arrow on the side to help you click through to the next picture.

Just thought I'd throw this out there. There are a few readers in particular that I think might enjoy these day-to-day shots of our family and farm and I wanted to pass these instructions along to you. Enjoy!

purple and pink and princesses: elsie turns 3!

When Elsie was born the doctor announced, "It's a girl!" and I was overcome with joy and happiness. I was elated in that moment, and now three years later, I still cannot get over how my love can continue to grow and grow for this little girl who has been entrusted in my care. It's probably the most concrete evidence I have found of a Loving God...that our own love can grow and deepen, even when it seems you cannot love any more that you do. Surely we love because He first loved us.

We celebrated in style, capitalizing on Elsie's favorite colors. Recently I went through her clothes and sorted out anything that was not purple and pink. Because those clothes simply never get picked. She knows what she likes and I'm rolling with it. We made princess crowns and I made this Sophia the First cake, which ended up a bit more hilarious than awesome, but Elsie was mesmerized by it and that it all that matters.

We had both families here for a summer picnic and enjoyed a stunning Sunday night in the country. Some saw the barn for the first time, some played kickball, some wrestled with kittens, some prepped food and some cleaned it all up. Elsie is one blessed girl to be surrounded by so much family love!

(You can read Elsie's birth story here, and about when she turned one and then when she turned two.)

family camp at mount carmel ministries

This picture above really is my favorite scene in the whole world. When I have to picture a place to help me relax, this is the image I have in my head. Mount Carmel has been such a precious part of my whole life, and it was once again, a joy to be back.

You know what hit me the most this year? (And I felt this way at Lake Geneva too...) Family camp is so awesome for young moms. Because the meals are all made for you. You don't need to bring groceries or stop playing at the beach early to go and prep dinner. You can stay in your swimsuit right up until the bell rings and when you head up to the dining hall food will magically appear in front of you and your family. Another reason camp is awesome is because there is childcare. Our mornings and evening worship are spent with our age groups. Which means that for two, sometimes three hours my kids get to play with toys and counselors, while I get to enjoy a little time without them. Family camp actually provides little "vacations" away from your own kids. And it also provides really special memories of together time too. It's the best of both.

And then there is the whole grandparent thing. Not everyone brings extended family with them to camp (most families come without relations) but if you do, you are able to call your mom at 8am in the dining hall to see if she'll come and sit in your cabin to wait for your kids to wake, while you go and eat breakfast with your cousins.

We had a great time this year, as always. We went with my folks, my sister and her girls and then my Aunt Louie and her girls (Sarah and Kathy) and their families. 10 kids, 11 adults. And it was a blast. If you have any interest in coming some year, let me know. I'd be happy to tell you all about it. I think these pictures sort of paint a picture as to why I love it so much.

I've written a whole lot about Mount Carmel over the years, and even created this sweet video made up of pictures from my own childhood growing up at camp. Grandma B used to call it, "a little bit of heaven on earth" and I'd have to agree. 

eleven hours to alexandria

I've thought about a few different ways to tell this story. I could tell it by the numbers:

One Jeep

Two Tow Trucks

Three Hours: estimated time to get to camp

Four Groves Trying to Get to Bible Camp

Eleven Hours: actual time it took to get to camp

I could tell it hour by hour:

10:30- first attempt to depart

12:15- second attempt to depart

12:45- first tow truck

4:00- actual time of departure

7:00- second tow truck

9:30- arrival at Bible camp

Or I could tell you the whole shebang...

Saturday morning we got up, got the car loaded up, set the animals up for a few nights of neighbor care, and were in the car, seat belts on at 10:30. I said to Rory, "I am so proud of us! I can't believe we're making such good time!" We said a prayer for safety as we traveled up to Mount Carmel Family Bible Camp, and then Rory put the key in the ignition and nothing happened. No sound, no movement, no nothing.

It appeared the battery was dead, so we all got out, Rory took the old battery out, went to Menards to buy a new battery (with our truck) and came back to put it in. It was a little hairy because a screw had broken that held the battery in, but with the help of a C-clamp I found in the junk drawer, the battery was secured and at 12:15 he went to start the car again. And again, no sound, no movement, no nothing. Rory called for a tow truck.

I did the thing any good wife would do in this moment. I told him I was going to town to buy a pair of shoes I had meant to get before we left for camp. And I'd pick up lunch on my way home. Unfortunately they didn't have my shoes in my size, but I did come home with Happy Meals and my favorite Nacho Supremo's from a new taco joint in town my friend Ali just introduced me to.

On the way home I thought a lot about choosing our attitude, choosing our story, choosing to not let all this car stuff ruin our first day of vacation. And somehow it really didn't. We had a fun picnic and then spent three hours waiting for our car to be fixed. The kids had quiet play time and Rory and I read books. The shop called and told us it was the starter. And around 4:00 we were finally pulling out of our lane with a running vehicle.

Even while driving through the cities we started to feel the car shift out of gear. The engine would rev for no reason, the gear would feel like it was slipping. It was a little disconcerting. We made it two hours to Clearwater for dinner, and it was only then that all positive mojo finally took a nose dive. I had bought the kids strawberry sundaes and myself a chocolate shake for being such good sports about our unexpected day and commented to Rory that the ice cream treats cost more than the meal we had just eaten. 

And I should have kept that money detail to myself. Because it sent Rory off into budget land, suddenly feeling the expense of the barn coupled with the new reality that we would likely be buying a minivan in the next few days. Not to mention the money I had just spent on sundaes. 

We got back into the car and Rory turned on a polka station that the kids found hilarious and then a country station that made them want to dance:

roadtrip from Becca Groves on Vimeo.

And then the car began to really give us trouble. To compensate, Rory continued to slow down, hoping to get us closer to Alexandria. Eventually we were going 45 miles an hour on Interstate 94, where cars and trucks flew past us at 75 miles per hour. We were between exits when it got that bad, and it was six miles before we could exit. There was no polka music playing then. Just a lot of silence and once in a while I'd here Rory whisper, "Help us, Jesus." It was a sincere prayer and even the kids seemed to catch on that they should keep quiet too.

Eventually we came to the West Union exit, an exit we had never really noticed before and now we will be forever grateful for its existence. We drove the car to the on ramp, and pulled off to the side to call another tow truck. The kids and I pulled out our camping chairs and sat on the side of the road, yelling "Semi!" every time we saw a semi-truck go past on 94. We called my dad who was already at camp and he set out to pick us up with all of our camp gear. 

The tow truck showed up at the same time Dad, and we were so grateful to see both of them. 

And then we drove to Mount Carmel. It was 9:30 when we arrived, eleven hours after we had set out, eight hours later than we had intended. But we were so glad to be there. And as it turned out, it ended up being one of my very favorite times at Mount Carmel. The next 2 1/2 days flew by (tomorrow I'll post pictures) and were so rich and full of family time. So glad we kept persevering to get there!