Seeing Double: Our Unforgettable Trip to the Midwife

 So, there I was, lying on my back in the dark little room, warm gel on my naked tummy, the ultrasound wand skimming across my pale skin.  Matt had run out to the car to grab a disc we'd forgotten so the sonogram tech could record some of the images she catches on the disc for us to take home.  She runs the wand in a quick swipe across my belly before placing it back in it's holder on the machine.  Standing up she says she needs to check something on her computer. In that quick swipe, I thought I saw something odd, but didn't think more of it assuming the oddity was caused by the way the imaged blurred across the screen.  It'd only been a few minutes since Matt left the room and we'd barely begun the half-hour ultrasound to check on baby's growth.  At 19 weeks, this was our first ultrasound of this pregnancy--different from our first two pregnancies during which we got ultrasounds between eight and ten weeks along.

Matt reentered the room and our technician told him he'd better sit down.  I thought that strange until she followed up with, "it may take us a while to get through all of this".  He handed her the disc and cleared my stuff off a chair by the bed.  Just as the technician was about to put the wand back on my belly, she held up two fingers.  My eyes grew big.  Matt said, "What?"  I echoed Matt, "Wait, what?  What?!"  He put his head in his hand saying he was going to faint--he'd previously said if it was a girl he'd faint.  "You faint?  I'm going to faint!"  It seems that my initial glimpse was true.  I thought I'd seen two spines.  "Yeah," said the technician, "there's two babies in there and I believe they're both boys!"  Matt looked up from his hand and with a deep, disturbed-sounding voice said, "What?"  Pause.  "Two?"  Matt had misinterpreted the technician's signal to mean "V" for, well...a girl.  It was funny for me to catch on, begin to freak out, and then see Matt's reaction when he caught on to the fact that she was telling us that we have TWO babies, not just one. 

 

Our TWINS! 

In the days, no weeks, leading up to our appointment, I grew more and more nervous.  I had NO clue what we were going to find out and I had no clue if we were having a boy or girl.  I kept thinking that we were going to find out something wasn't right with the baby, like that it was missing a leg or something.  As we sat waiting to be called back that afternoon, I was incredibly nervous, as prepared as possible for the unknown.  Or so I thought.

The technician had stepped over to her computer to buy some time until Matt returned because she didn't want to continue until we both were aware of the surprise.  As the news kept repeating in my head, I kept saying, "What?  No way!  What?"  And yes, I confess, a number of "holy crap"s found their way into my speech that day, but mostly, "Oh my gosh!  Oh my gosh!"  Over and over, "Oh my gosh!"  The wand danced about my belly, now pushing the cooling gel all about.  Our eyes glued to the screen, we were now anxious to see the proof of the latter part of her announcement.  Boys?!  As the gray tone images became clear upon each little baby's "area", the truth of it all was black and white.  There indeed ARE two babies and they ARE indeed both boys!  Stunned doesn't even begin to explain what we felt.  My choice word is "floored".  By now, my whole body was shaking uncontrollably, not violently, just noticeably.  "I'm shaking!  Oh my gosh!  Twins?!"  The technician said that was my adrenaline working.  No kidding?!  The shaking continued, then I began to laugh.  I couldn't look at Matt without laughing, so I tried not to look at him throughout the rest of the ultrasound.  It was difficult.

 

Baby A is Caleb and Baby B is Christian. 

Our periodic looks were like no other look we'd given each other before.  He and I had never been shocked like this before.  We were seriously floored.  From a moment after the real news hit Matt to the end of the ultrasound, he'd held my hand.  I'm so grateful for that.  It helped me feel a little more tied to someone, connected.  The stunning news had confirmed a reason for my nerves and lifted me to a place beyond explanation.  Having his hand in mine was a type of anchor, something I could hold onto in the midst of the chaos that I was feeling. 

We finished up the ultrasound, thanked the technician, and headed for the lobby with our little roll of photos and disc of images in hand.  Sitting on the sofa in the waiting room before my midwife appointment, Matt and I just laughed, stared at each other and shared our shock. We left there feeling so floored, so thrown off, so completely caught off guard, it was like no other time we'd experienced.

Telling our families was unreal in its own sort of way, too.  They all reacted with a similar sort of shock as we did, screams, stares of disbelief, and lots of, "What?"s.  So now, here we are, midway through our third pregnancy, preparing for TWIN BOYS of all things!  We've picked out names:  Caleb Donald (Donald after my dad), and Christian Matthew (after Matt).  Caleb and Christian.  Our boys.  Our boys.  Our precious baby boys.  Yup, I'm still working on getting used to it.  I can now imagine two little baby boys in car seats in the back of the van, but it is still so hard to believe that I've got two little boys sharing a space in my belly.  Matt's not even to the imagining part yet.  I don't expect him to be until delivery day.  Our wonderful technician that day said they appear to be identical twins, too, so we're curious as to how deep the "identical" part will show through when we finally get to meet them face-to-face.  This might add a whole new dimension to our new challenge of being parents of not only two girls, but also twin boys.  We are SO excited though, and cannot wait to do whatever we can to bring these boys as close to full-term as possible and deliver healthy babies into this world.  We are also scared yet flattered that God would entrust us with the responsibility of caring for two infants at once while continuing to raise our four-year-old and one-year-old.  What an honor, a privilege and a challenge.  Thank You Lord!  We're up for it!

What a Wonderful World...

Life is very different now.  This year has brought on such a dramatic change in my life and my families life, it is overwhelming to think of all the ways our world has shifted.  I am still very much grieving my father's passing, and I'm not sure if I'll ever not grieve for him, but I am still comforted by the truth of his faith and devotion to our Father and Savior, and thus his warm acceptance into a place of peace and health.  Since my return to Colorado in April (after my dad's March 27th passing) has taken on a whole new appearance.  In June, we celebrated Abbigail's fourth birthday, and (back in Missouri) my mom's 60th birthday.  In late July, packers came and boxed up our household goods in preparation for our move back to Missouri.  Matt officially separated from the U.S. Navy on August 1, 2011.  That same day we drove back to Missouri with my sister, Mindy and her husband, Bryan--our helpers in the move.  A week or so prior to our move, my brother, David and a family friend, Chuck also visited us in Colorado to pick up a few items we would need immediately in MO. 

After our return to Missouri, Matt started his new job with his step-dad, Bryan, working as an assistant in Bryan's Snap-On franchise.  He enjoys the job, though we are looking for something a little more permanent that can utilize the skills and abilities he acquired in the Navy.  On August 25th, we celebrated Madison's first birthday.  She's such a wonderful little girl.  Petite she may be, but she is so smart and entertaining.  The most exciting and unexpected recent event actually happened the weekend before Madison's birthday.  On Sunday, August 21, I found out I am pregnant with our third child.  That same morning, my sister, Mindy confirmed that she is also pregnant (with her first child).  Matt was out of town at the time of the discovery, but due to be back that evening.  He was so excited when I told him over the phone that morning.  That afternoon, Mindy and I decided we'd both tell my mom at lunch.  We'd planned to go to the Olive Garden with a couple family friends, Chuck and his mom, Louise. 

How we told her:
I had Abby come over so I could tell her something.  Whispering in her ear, I told her, "I want you to tell Grandma something, but you have to go over and tell it to her in her ear."  I said this because it was noisy and I wanted to make sure mom heard what Abby was saying.   "Go over there and tell Grandma in her ear that mommy's got a baby in her tummy."  Abby immediately pulled away and looked at me then at my tummy with big eyes.  "You do?"  "Yeah, now go over there and tell Grandma in her ear that mommy has a baby in her tummy."  Abby did as I said and my mom paused after hearing the message then said, "No she doesn't."  Then turning to me, "do you?"  "Yeah, I guess so.  I mean, I took a test and it said I was."  Her eyes got real big.  "You are?!"  Then a few moments later after the shock began to settle, I said, "And you know that other thing about how I'm always pregnant with a sister....?"  She just looked at me.  There was a big pause.  (When I was pregnant with Abby, my oldest sister, Teresa was pregnant with her twins.  They and Abby are exactly 6 weeks apart.  When I was pregnant with Madison, Matt's sister was pregnant with her little boy, Eli.  He and Madison are exactly 3 weeks apart.)   Mindy chimed in here after giving mom a moment to think about what I was saying.  "I'm pregnant, too," Mindy said.  Mom turned her head toward Mindy who was sitting to her left.  "You are?!  What?  Are you kidding me?  Is this a joke? (extending her arm) Somebody pinch me!"  My mom was SO shocked.  Laughter and shock was shared by everyone.  It was truly an amazing experience. 

Since then, I found out my due date is April 14, and Mindy found out her due date is May 2--two weeks and five days apart.  Ridiculous and amazing.  I am truly in awe of God's timing and blessings!  Matt and I want more children, but we didn't expect it to happen this quickly after Madison. 

We are in such a strange place right now.  Matt's out of the Navy, working a new job, different than anything he's ever done before, hoping to start school in the Spring.  Abby is now four years old, attending pre-kindergarten here in Lee's Summit, and now enjoying children's church on Sunday mornings instead of playing in the nursery.  Madison is now a year old and walking (when she wants), and learning so very much.  I am STILL only five classes shy of my bachelor degree in English, hoping to get back to working on my memoir real soon, and praying for an interested publisher.  And now I'm pregnant...again.  We are truly excited.  We are, however, still living with my mom until we can get everything in order to purchase a home.  It can be difficult to do this when Matt's got such a new job, and, despite having a reliable job, to be honest, his income is remarkably less than his allowances and income were in the Navy. 

Life is very different for us.  Amid all these physical changes, there are plenty of emotional and spiritual changes taking place as well.  For me, these changes are an affect of my dad's life.  My dad left such an inspiring legacy.  His life was God-centered and uplifting, despite his circumstances with cancer.  Cancer didn't define my dad.  His faith did.  This truth cuts me to the core with grief and love.  I miss him dearly, but I am SO VERY happy that he was my father, my dad, an important role model in my spiritual life.  I am SO grateful for him. 

I LOVE the words of What a Wonderful World sung through the raspy, gruff voice of Louis Armstrong (as referenced in the title to this entry).  And truly, what a wonderful world this is.  Our Creator definitely knows what He is doing.  He gives us exactly what He knows we need when we need it.  This world is so crazy and amazing and beautiful.  Pain and love, death and life.  God is good, isn't He?  What a TRULY wonderful world, it is! 

40 Years!

Don and Diane, Senior Prom

In loving memory of my dad, Donald Witte...

40 years ago today my parents got married in Kansas City, MO.  I pray peace and comfort for my mom, Diana Witte, today as she mourns my dad's passing (March 27, 2011).  They were an amazing couple and my mom continues to amaze me with her strength.  Congrats, mom and dad!  I love you!

Onward...

Oh what a crazy year so far!  To catch everyone up to speed on what is happening with our move...

That last day my dad went in the hospital (two days before he passed), Matt called me and said his Command Master Chief had a talk with him and decided to cancel Matt's orders.  It wasn't what we were hoping for, but the timing couldn't have said more.  It took a while for the cancellation to be official, but it's done.  We are no longer moving to Texas.  Matt has decided to finish out his enlistment and sign into the reserves.  An opportunity became available for him to separate from the military early, so he requested his end of enlistment change to August 1, 2011, rather than March 6, 2012.  His request has been approved.  As of today, we have 65 days until we move.  We are returning to Missouri to stay with my mom until we can find a more permanent place.

Matt has already been in over 10 years, so he should have just under 10 left in the reserves to finish out his 20 years and be eligible for a pension.  When we return to Missouri, he plans on working for his step-dad as an assistant to him in his Snap-On business.  He will also be using his GI Bill to finish his degree in middle school social studies, so he can teach.

I am so close to finishing my English degree, but I may have to add a few more classes to the five I have left so I could also teach.  We will see.  Truly, I am feeling called to finish my memoir I started two and a half years ago.  I've finished 20 chapters and I figure I have about six more to go.  I've already submitted a sample of it to a group of publishing companies.  I'm hoping I get a bite, but it's all in God's hands now, so I will continue to pray and we will see what happens.  I haven't put the idea of a part-time job out of my mind, and I'll do it if necessary, but as to what kind of job, who knows.

Abby will be four in less than a month and we plan to put her in preschool again this year, since she will not be old enough to go to kindergarten until fall of 2012.  She LOVED preschool this year and is looking forward to starting preschool this fall at a new school in Missouri.  We still have not chosen a preschool for her though.  Abby is so excited about her Toy Story birthday party here in Colorado--her last with her Colorado friends before we move. 

Madison will be turning one August 25.  We are planning on having a birthday party (not too big) with family back in Missouri.  It will be nice to celebrate her first with family.  Madison is developing beautifully.  She is still small, but smart as can be.  Her nine-month numbers: height 25.6" (6%), weight 13 lbs 9oz (0%), head circ.16.5" (8%).  She is crawling and pulling up on everything!  She's eating all types of fruits, vegetables and meats (pureed, of course). 

This move will be interesting, and our future is all so unknown to us, but...we trust and pray that God will guide us and show us what He has planned for us.  So little is unknown to us right now...this is a huge leap of faith for us, but one we are overjoyed to take.

Death and Life

To say a lot has happened since my last post is a gross understatement.  Please bear with me as I try...try...to summarize.

My dad, Donald R. Witte (60y) Christmas morning 2010.

One Sunday evening in late February, my dad was laying on the sofa resting--a new habit of his since his cancer struggle had progressed--and my mom noticed that he wasn't making sense when she spoke with him.  Sometimes when she would talk with him, he'd respond with nonsensical answers, and other times he wouldn't respond at all.  She became very concerned, so on Monday, she called the Cancer Center where my dad was being treated, and spoke with their nurse.  She said to take my dad to the emergency room immediately.  My mom and brother weren't able to get my dad up off the sofa (since he wasn't responsive, thus unable to assist them), so they called an ambulance.  The paramedics said his blood pressure was extremely low.  That was why he wasn't responding well or making sense, also why he wasn't able to help them get him off the sofa.  He didn't have enough blood pressure in his body to be able to even sit up or stay lucid.

At the hospital, the doctors figured he had some sort of infection that they could not detect, but got his blood pressure under control with meds.  They'd also determined that the cancer had spread.  It was not only littering his chest, but was completely surrounding his heart.  He'd been given very little time.  His oncologist said maybe three to four months.  When I spoke with my mom on Monday, March 7, the doctors said he could go home soon, but he would need full-time care at home.  My mom said she wasn't sure how they'd provide that since insurance would only cover at-home visits from nurses and physical therapists.  She said he was more himself, but some of his meds made him behave strangely and not make sense.  She said if I wanted to spend time with him, I should do it soon.  I spoke with Matt and we decided to leave that Wednesday so Abby could go to school Tuesday morning and we could get prepared for a spur of the moment trip.  Matt took 10 days of leave and we were able to leave town Tuesday evening instead, spending the night western Kansas, then finishing the trip Wednesday morning.

When we arrived in Lee's Summit Wednesday evening, we dropped our dogs off at our friends house to dog-sit them, and we went straight to the hospital.  It was quite a scary sight when we arrived.  My dad had (in a medicated mind) decided to use the restroom.  My mom and his friend did what they could to help him with his walker into the restroom.  When he went to turn around to leave the toilet, he lost his balance and fell onto the toilet (thank God he didn't fall to the floor!).  He'd scraped his already sensitive skin against the wall and my mom hit the nurse call a few times until someone finally responded and arrived to help.  Our visit with my dad that evening was unsettling.  The medication they'd continued to give him for pain made him extremely loopy and anxious.  They'd given him a diuretic as well, but told him to urinate in the bottle while in bed.  Yeah, right.  The concoction of medication made for a frightening evening.  My dad was confusing people, saying things that didn't make sense, and behaving quite strangely.  It scared the heck out of Abby, who I tried to keep out of the room as much as possible and it scared me, because I didn't know if this was who my dad would be, or if I'd actually get to visit with my dad.

My dad came home the next day, after medical equipment had been delivered to the house and we began our journey of 24-hour care for him.  He could do very little.  We had to have at least three people at home at all times in case he needed help using his bedside toilet, or so we could lift him out of bed for his daily exercise of standing, stepping, and sitting up (outside of the bed).  We'd adjusted his medication so that he didn't need the meds that were causing him all the anxiety and confusion.  This helped immensely, since we were then able to talk with dad, not the guy he'd been in the hospital for two weeks.  It was surreal to be doing all this for my dad, my dad, the kind of man who took care of himself, his family and those around him.  My dad, who had already fought so hard to beat the wretched cancer that had made itself at home inside of him.  My dad, who rarely ever needed help with anything--at least anything having to do with his own personal care.  My mom, brother, sisters, aunts, cousins and I did our best to nurse my dad back to health.  There were times when he would get up a couple times a day and do very well with getting around and getting stronger (or so it seemed), and he had days where he didn't even have the energy to get out of bed.  It was rough, but we endured.  We kept a close eye on his meds around the clock.  Two to three times a week a nurse, physical therapist, or occupational therapist would pop in for a visit.  It was good for my dad to have someone outside the family talk straight with him about his condition.

For more about my dad's journey, visit: www.caringbridge.org/visit/donwitte  (You will need to create a login).

Fast forward to Friday, March 25, My dad had weakened immensely and we were having difficulty getting him to swallow.  After some talk with the physical therapist, my mom decided to have my dad transported to the hospital again for some fluids--he'd become extremely dehydrated.  In the emergency room, dad received IV fluids and a bag of blood, since his hemoglobin level had dropped even further (about half of what it should be for a man his size).  Around midnight that night, my dad returned home.  He was doing a bit better, but it had been established that he would no longer be allowed more blood because his body wasn't producing anymore red blood cells.  It was using up the cells in the fresh blood, but not replenishing what it's using.  Also, he wasn't allowed to receive IV fluids at home, so at this point, I knew it was a matter of time.  The body can only live so long without water, and because he still wasn't able to swallow (first from dehydration, now from mucus as a result of the fluids), he couldn't eat, so no nourishment = not good.

Sunday morning, I took my girls to church for the first time since I'd arrived in town.  It was difficult since Matt was no longer with me (he'd returned home about a week and a half before), and both of my girls were desiring my attention.  There came a point in the message that I'd slipped away to the back of the room to deal with my girls.  I knelt down on the floor to speak with Abby briefly.  Just then, Dave started to sing the lyrics to an old hymn that clenched my heart.  As I knelt at the back of the church, Madison in one arm, hugging Abby in the other, I let go.  I let go of the fear and the pain I'd been trying to hide for that month prior.  I let go and listened to God's loving words.  I knelt there and bawled.  I sobbed.  I was so exhausted, so drained, so sad, so confused, so pained, and so hungry--hungry for healing.

When I got home that day, I'd heard that dad had opened his eyes for a little while, but he was asleep again when I got home.  He'd had a good morning, considering.  As lunchtime passed we noticed a concerning drop in his oxygen saturation.  We called Hospice (which my mom decided to sign up with the day before), and the nurse soon arrived to assess dad's condition.  His oxygen was dropping fast and there was nothing we could do.  As the hours slipped by, we made our calls to family and friends to inform them of his condition.  I updated his Caring Bridge site as well as Facebook so those who weren't at the house with us could follow along online.  Friends and family arrived off and on, visited with dad, and shared their love and support.  We sang songs of praise and peace over dad.  We prayed over him.  Pastor Dave read scripture over him.  My mom, siblings and I sat by his side, held his hand, witnessed his slowing breaths, felt his body grow colder, as color faded from his skin.

After while, I slipped out of the room as did my other siblings, and updated the sites.  I called Matt and sat in a stupor.  A short while later, my Aunt Barbara (dad's sister) popped out from the other room and said, "he's going, guys!  He's going!"  She said we should go say goodbye if we wanted to.  I decided not to.  Then changed my mind.  I made a brief visit to the other room where dad's breathing had slowed dramatically. It was almost unnoticeable.  Moments later, the nurse checked his vitals again.  He was gone.  All that was left of my earthly father was his cancer-ridden body lying still, cold and pale in the living room of the house I'd grown up in--the house my father worked so hard to provide for his family.  He was gone.  I returned to my laptop to update the sites again as my mom and the nurse made preparations for my dad's body to be taken away.  Through the chatter in the other room, my mom and aunt had come to an amazing revelation--my dad's passing was 85 years to the day of his father's birthday.  My grandpa Wilbert Witte had been born on March 27, 1926, and my dad passed on March 27, 2011.  God is so amazing, isn't He?

Matt got on a flight the next day to join us (he'd have been there sooner, but to take emergency leave for a death in the family, naturally, the death had to take place first).  Matt stayed for another ten days, then I remained for another month.  I returned home the April 30.

It's been rough.  Every day there's something that reminds me of him.  It's hard to go a day without at least getting teary-eyed thinking of him.  I am so happy he is no longer hurting, but I am so sad that he is gone.  It brings tears to my eyes every time I think of the welcome he received in Heaven.  He was such a loyal and obedient servant of God on this earth.  I can't even imagine the job God has for him in Heaven.  I am jealous to a degree that he has finally gotten to see our Creator and Father...something we talked a lot about.  But I know I am needed here still.  I have two beautiful girls to raise and a husband to love and support.  My mom still needs love and support with her battle against cancer as well as her grief.  God is doing such amazing and truly awe-inspiring things in my life right now.  Words just cannot express.  You know me...a talker...a writer...I may try to express the wonders of God's work in my life right now, but in all honesty, His works are ineffable (indescribable).

One thing that stuck with me through the visitation and funeral for my dad was what one of his friends from work told me.  He said that my dad not only taught him how to live, but he also taught him how to die.  Wow!  What amazing words!  Dad, despite having cancer for the last eight years, despite his constant pain for the majority of those years, worked like he was working for Jesus, he studied God's word daily, prayed for his family and friends and countless others on a regular basis, he witnessed like there was no tomorrow, and he set the bar high.  He was one of those guys that, simply by his actions, set the bar high for everyone around him.  Just witnessing my dad's life, one would strive for higher, better, and Godlier.  God truly has a remarkable place for him in eternity. 

It is crazy how death plays such a big role in our living on this earth.  I've known about Jesus all my life.  I accepted Him into my heart when I was 13, then through depression I grew even closer to Him in my early 20s, but now...at the age of 30, after having witnessed my dad's journey with cancer over the years, his faith deepening, and his eventual passing into Jesus' loving arms, I, naturally, have an even deeper appreciation for life and it's purpose.  I have a deeper faith and reverence for my Heavenly Father.  He has truly changed me, altered me, and graced me with his eternal love.  To feel His presence, like I do now, is beyond words.  It is beyond explanation.  I hope one day each of you will experience this if you haven't already.  Trust me, you will never be the same. 

Abby (3 1/2 y) with Grandpa Witte (60y) a few weeks before his passing. 

Madison (6 1/2 m) with Grandpa Witte (60) a few weeks before his passing. This trip back to MO was only their second time seeing each other.  The first time was Christmas 2010 when Madison was 4 months old.

Lucy...

Back in October, I started writing a post about a family friend of ours, Lucy, who passed away.  I just realized that I never published that post.  The following is what I typed up then (around the second week of October):  

Today I found out that our close family friend, Lucy Howell, passed away on September 26th, 2010.  My dad left that morning for the Mayo Clinic to be with my mom who'd been there for a couple weeks already, so it took a while for us to get the message. Lucy, who has lived across the street from my parents since my family and I moved into that house when I was 2 years old, was diagnosed with colon cancer shortly after my dad was diagnosed with his cancer, but last I knew she'd been doing pretty well since her last surgery.  They believed they got all of the cancer and Lucy's condition improved.  I hadn't heard from her in a while and since my parents were away at the Mayo Clinic, it's been hard to keep updated.

I am deeply saddened by Lucy's passing.  She was such a sweet, and truly kind-hearted woman.  Her son, Eric graduated high school a year before me and her daughter, Lisa graduated a few years after me.  Her husband, Lonnie, passed away from skin cancer shortly after I graduated from high school.  Every time Matt and I would visit our family in Missouri, we'd always make a trip across the street to see Lucy.  Many times we'd see her in passing and say hello or catch up on things.  Even through her own struggle, she was always a loving woman who cared for others.  I will truly miss seeing her and hearing her voice. 

Since I wrote this, we visited home for Christmas (2010).  On Christmas Eve, when we were about to head out the door to church where Madison was to get baptized, Lucy's son and daughter stopped by with a basket of cookies for our family.  It was good to see them.  Madison Lucille gets her middle name from Lucy.  I will forever remember Lucy through my little Madison.  Every time I speak Madison's whole name, I think of Lucy.  I wish she they could have met.  Maybe they will some day. 

Preparing for Our Next Journey

As our journey here in Colorado is winding down, we are preparing for our new journey--a journey that's taking us to San Angelo, Texas.  Matthew will be stationed at Goodfellow Air Force Base, where he will be instructing.  Back in 2005, after our return from Japan, Matt spent three months in San Angelo, at his C School training.  He will now be instructing this same training.  Recently at work, Matt finally got off the watch floor (where he's been since we  moved to Colorado).  This has been a wonderful transition for him.  Typically, people are switched out of watch floor duty after about 18 months to give them a break and change things up.  Matt had been on the watch floor for 32 months!  And believe me, he needed a change.  He'd worked on all of the 4 crews that serviced the watch floor.  32 months of cycling 2 weeks of day shifts then 2 weeks of night shifts (2days on, 2 days off, three days on, 2 days off, 2 days on, 3 days off).  Confusing, I know.  He's work a 12 hour shift plus 1/2 hour commute one-way, plus PT once a week, so anywhere from 14-15 hours away from home at a time.  It is so nice for him to have a calmer schedule.  Monday through Friday, about 7:30 to 4:00.

This new position is in the training department--a perfect transition to what he'll be doing in Texas.  He's setting up training classes, sitting in on some, and he'll be taking a couple classes, as well.  The class he's already taken was on leadership and training.  He got 100% in the class.  It's like he's starting to really find his groove.  I LOVE it!  I'm so happy for him!  He was really stressed those last 3-4 months at work before the change.  He hated going to work, but he did what he had to do.  Now, he actually enjoys his work!  It's helping him get more acquainted with how the training process goes, at least on the administrative side, so when he gets to Texas, he'll be better equipped to manage his classes and organize his job overall.

 
Yes, it will be different being in a place like San Angelo.  Lately, I've been checking up on the weather here.  Yesterday it was 32 and cloudy here in Strasburg, CO, while it was 74 and sunny in San Angelo!  Climate shock may be in our future!

We are due to leave here in early June, but we have not yet received Matt's hard copy of his orders (what he needs to start the screening and check-out process).  I've been searching (almost daily) online for houses for rent in the San Angelo area.  I'm praying and waiting for God to reveal to us where he wants us to live.  Most of the houses I've found intriguing have been within a block or so of a registered sex offender, so...the search continues.

Moving will be an interesting task this time around.  Last time it was already compounded with having a third person in the family, but now, not only do we have Matt, Abby, Toby, Kaydence, and me, but we also have Madison and Jade (our aquatic turtle).  Matt and I have a lot to figure out when it comes to the logistics of moving a family of four with two large dogs and a water turtle.  From here to San Angelo it is about a 12 1/2 hour drive.  From Lee's Summit, MO, it's about a 12 hour drive.  These times do not include stops, however.  We are trying to decide whether we'd like to visit Missouri on our way to Texas, or if we want to go to Texas first.  Oh, so many decisions to be made!  We can't really make a lot of these decisions until we have Matt's hard copy, so...we wait.  Matt says he will more than likely get it in April, but...I'm hoping sooner.

As for the OTHER side of the move, the emotional side, I've already started trying to get Abby ready for the whole ordeal.  She's absolutely "in love" with a boy in her class at her preschool.  His name is Chaz.  I've already had a few conversations with her about how we will be moving and she won't see Chaz anymore after we move to Texas.  It is hard for her to understand that Chaz will not be moving to Texas with us, but...she'll understand eventually.  I try to always end our conversations about this with the positive, that she will get to go to a new school and make new friends in Texas.  We'll see how this all plays out.  It isn't going to be easy, I'm sure.  I will, as always, miss those we've become friends with here.  I will miss the excellent sermons on Sunday (however, they do have their sermons online now), and I will miss the beauty of the landscape, especially when the storms roll in.  Life goes on, though, and God has plans for us somewhere else.  On to a new place, a new command, a new house, a new school (for Abby, anyway), a new climate, a new landscape, a new church, and new friends.  Ugh!  So much to do!  All I keep thinking is..."here we go again!"