21 weeks

We are so grateful to have people all over the world who want to be praying for our little baby. What a joy to know that he already is so loved, even though he's not yet born. I've been thinking over the best way to communicate with such a broad group over the next few months, and have settled on this blog as the best option. I'll update whenever we have news.

Some history: Well, first of all, I'm pregnant! This has been a long, strange pregnancy, and I'm only 21 weeks along. Our history of second-trimester losses has put me on edge ever since we found out in January that we were expecting. For the most part, however, God helped me grapple with those fears.

Then, three weeks ago, we received some alarming blood test results. In essence, they showed a 50 percent chance that all would proceed smoothly, and a 50 percent chance that we would face complications. The range of possible complications is vast: from in-utero death to very early labor to late-term eclampsia.

Based on those results, we made the decision to finish the pregnancy in the States, where we will have family around to lend a hand, and where (in the event of an early delivery) specialized postnatal care will be readily available and easier for us to navigate. 

Yesterday, we (hopefully) had our last ultrasound at Eurolab, the Ukrainian clinic where we've done prenatal care. The baby was alive and kicking and clearly male, so that was all great to see.

We were hoping for some clarity about what (if anything) is wrong with our little one, but we didn't really receive any. The doctor focused on the parts of the body that can cause excess protein to leak out of the baby and into my blood. (This was one of our abnormal test results.) She noted five areas of possible concern (including some spine, heart and brain abnormalities), but didn't seem definitive about any of them. She said things should be more clear at our next ultrasound.  That will probably be in about a month. It's a LONG time to wait.

Thankfully, I have a wonderful cousin who happens to be a genetic counselor. I thank God daily for giving me someone who is uber-knowledgable about these issues and who is only a phone call away. Her take on yesterday was that the results (as told to me by the doctor -- we haven't received the official ultrasound report yet, and it might be more informative) were too vague to draw any conclusions. And so, we wait.  

And we pack. We fly out May 15, and we plan to live on my parents' property in Northern California until the baby is born. Eric will be able to continue his role as Area Director via Skype and e-mail, plus we expect that he will make at least one trip back to Ukraine over the summer.

So, that's where we're at today. It's only been three weeks since these issues cropped up, and I'm already feeling very weary and desperate to know what is going on. Prayers for peace and patience are much appreciated.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask them in the comments. I'll try to answer them the best I can.

Spring snow

You may have heard that we had some snow over the weekend. Like, 20 inches of snow on Saturday, with quite a bit falling on Friday and Sunday, too.

This was the scene from our kitchen window on Saturday morning. My theory is that the owners of the cars that are fairly cleaned off got up periodically throughout the night to dust them. The snow pretty much consumed the cars that are a little right of center. (They still look that way. I guess their owners are out of town. Or waiting for a thaw.) 

On Saturday, we had scheduled an appointment to get the kids started on their medical clearance for school. (Lev's supposed to start sadik next month, and as long as we're taking him to the string of specialists, we figured we might as well take care of Dietrich's medical card, too, even though school doesn't start until September.)

Saturday morning, the clinic called and asked if we still planned to come in. When I said yes, they asked whether I was scared of the snow. Well, I wasn't until they asked! From the window, it just looked pretty. Intense, but pretty.

We gave ourselves a few extra minutes to get there, and I'm glad we did. There were only a few marshrutka (minibuses) running; we were unable to cram onto the first two that stopped, and we only got onto the third one because the other people at the stop insisted we get on first. (So kind!)

While we waited, Dietrich pleadingly asked, "But Mama, WHY do we need more snow?" Good question, kid. 

I stepped off the marshrutka into a snow bank up to my thigh. We couldn't get to the sidewalk, so we slogged down the street, heads ducked to avoid the wind. Lev is a champion walker, and even he kept asking to be carried. I was so glad I had asked Eric to come with us, because I could not have handled both kids on my own.

The doctor's visit went well (only two more days, six more specialists, and some blood and urine tests, and then we'll be done).

The walk back was even harder. We were walking into the wind. We didn't know where the marshrutka stop was, so we walked past it. Once we found it, marshrutkas drove by because we couldn't get from the sidewalk to the street fast enough. The marshrutkas themselves were as jam-packed as you can imagine, but once we got on one, I was just so happy, I didn't mind the crowding. And people were fairly jovial about the whole situation, actually, which really makes all the difference.

Once we got home, Dietrich begged to be allowed to stay inside for as long as possible. So, we mostly watched in awe as the snow continued to cover cars in the parking lot.

Here's the view from our bedroom window. 

Notice the car on the top left of this photo? Or the one smack-dab in the middle? Also, this is hard to see in the picture, but the snowplough pushed mounds of snow between all these cars, so even after they are cleared off, someone will have to shovel all that snow before they can actually drive anywhere. So, so glad we don't have a car. So glad.

Evidently, there was a 14-hour traffic jam to get into the city. One airport closed; the other cancelled most flights. Trains stopped running. The city declared Monday a non-work day. We actually didn't feel much of an effect until Monday, when we had an appointment at the consulate. It was closed, due to snow emergency. Sadik? Closed. Grocery store? Open -- but with very lightly stocked shelves. It made me feel rather unsettled to not have any alternative means for obtaining basics, like milk.

Per Dietrich's request, we stayed inside (again). We spent a lot of time sitting on the windowsill, watching people clear off their cars and looking for snowploughs. We even spotted some cross-country skiers cutting a path through our courtyard. And, of course, we played with Lego.

Everything was open again today. Here's Lev on the best-cleared path in our neighborhood; the walkway on the sadik grounds.

This is about a sixth of the path. The man in charge of clearing it is our neighbor, and he said he worked on it all day Saturday, Sunday and Monday, and now his back hurts. Poor guy. He tried to hire a tractor to clear the path, but the tractor said he'd do more harm than good. And I believe it. When the snowploughs pass, they leave behind a layer of packed snow, which is slippery to walk on. But our neighbor did good work; this was the only long stretch of entirely cleared sidewalk I saw today. And, despite his sore back, he seemed pleased to have given the neighborhood's families a place to stroll with their baby carriages.

Tough guy

Lev took a tumble in the play room at McDonald's a month or so ago. He and Dietrich were with a friend of ours. He would not calm down and there was a LOT of blood. (Head wounds, you know.) So the McDonald's workers called the ambulance while our friend called Eric.

On his way to McDonald's, Eric called me. All he could tell me was that Lev had fallen and hit his head, and an ambulance was on the way.

The next 15 minutes passed very, very slowly, as I waited for more details. I kept flashing to thoughts like: "What if they can see his brain?"

His brain was fine. The wound was deep, so they shaved off a little circle of hair and gave him one stitch. The stitch came out a week later, and now we're just waiting for the hair to grow back. 

Lev was a trooper. He willingly let the doctor examine his head the day after the accident. A week later, he sat quietly on my lap as a nurse held his head immobile and the doctor pulled out the stitch. He's a tough kid, and it all ended up being no big deal. But doesn't this look dramatic?

Happy holidays

This is the typical post-holiday scene here in Kyiv. This photo was taken January 24, and a similar pileup takes place every day for a week or so. Our tree was one of the first to hit the street.  

And then there's this.



I took this photo on March 2. As I was taking it, a man yelled out of his balcony, "What are you taking a picture of?"

"The trees," I said.

"Why?"

"Well, in America, we usually throw out our trees quickly after New Years. And today is March 2."

"This is normal."

What I said: "Yes, but to me, it's interesting."

What I wish I would have said: "It's better than normal. It's wonderful."

Because you have to love a country where it's totally permissible to keep your tree up through the start of Spring. Why not celebrate as long as possible? 

Sunday morning

We're giving Sunday morning church with both boys a go again. Once Lev dropped his morning nap, it became too difficult to keep his squirrely self seated, silently, so I've stayed home with the boys on Sunday mornings, while Eric goes to church. On Sunday evenings, we go to a different church that has a children's room, and Eric tends to the kids while I sit in on the service. But for the past two Sundays, we couldn't make it to Sunday night church, so we hauled everyone through the snow to morning service.

This week, the boys made it through about an hour, with barely any issues. They browsed Star Wars books. I fed them peanuts, one-by-one, for about 20 minutes. Dietrich and Eric played some tic-tac-toe.

The boys and I did decide to scooch out while the second sermon was starting, as they were starting to get antsy, but all-in-all, a success!

On stage at sadik

After working hard on his Ukrainian poem, Dietrich caught a cold on the day of this year's holiday show at sadik. You might recall that we missed last year's show after a chicken-pox quarantine led to it being rescheduled for a day when we were out of town. I, sadly, thought he'd better skip it again this year, and Dietrich was cool with that. Until I let him try on his costume.

All of a sudden, he had to be on stage.

So, I came up with a plan. We'd go, but we'd wait in the hallway until his part. He'd pop in, say his lines, do his dance, and we would head home. 

His teacher would not hear of it. After thanking us copiously for coming, she insisted that I "let the kid have his holiday." The coughing wouldn't bother a soul, she promised.

So, on with the show it was.

Dietrich was dressed as Buratino -- the Russian version of Pinocchio. To get him into character, we watched the movie one afternoon. Dietrich didn't like it. Good thing he liked the costume.

Since it was the kind of day when things didn't go as planned, I only managed to get about half of his poem on video. My favorite part is watching his classroom helper, Sveta, cheer him on in the background. She has such an encouraging spirit and a sense of humor about childhood foibles.


Buratino from josie oldenburg on Vimeo.

After the hour-long show, which started 90 minutes late, another hour was spent playing little games and waiting for Grandfather Frost to arrive.

Needless to say,  Dietrich was drained. He opted out of the group photo, stumbled home and practically fell asleep eating his celebratory pizza.

For the grandparents, here he is saying the whole poem at home, before the show sucked every last ounce of energy out of him.


MVI 7065 from josie oldenburg on Vimeo.

Translation:
Greetings, children --
girls and boys.
You've known me a long time.
You've seen me in the movies.

I have a lot of friends.
You know them, too.
Artemon, Pierrot, Malvina,
And my name? Buratino! 

Next year, it will be Lev's turn to put on a holiday show at sadik. Crazy. 

Scenes from the kitchen windowsill

p.s. Look who's wearing big boy underpants!
p.s.s. Merry Christmas!