Angels Surround Us

After the fire destroyed our apartment on Beech Street, we soon realized that we were going to need to find another place to live. In the meantime, we also needed to salvage what we could of our stuff, clean all our stuff, and find a place to store our stuff. So much stuff!! We were so blessed to have salvaged almost everything we owned and everything that was important to us (pictures, journals, scrapbooks). Our clothes were distributed around the ward (which was a tiny bit weird, actually--but that is not to say we were ungrateful for this service! And it must have been distasteful, as our clothes reeked.) and washed up just fine. Most of my pairs of shoes were lost, though. (So sad!) I had bought some new boots the day before at the outlet mall in Wrenthem and showed them off in the mother's room at church to some of the ladies there. On the morning after the fire, when we were not yet sure what all was usable, our bishop's wife--who had heard how much I liked my new boots--volunteered to drive out to Wrenthem to buy the same pair of boots for me. Luckily my brand new leather boots were saved. But the offer was incredible all the same. This is just one example of so many like instances of incredible thoughtfulness and service. I think I cried more from happiness and overwhelmed gratitude than from sadness, after that first night.

We had so many generous offers for temporary housing and (embarrassing to say it) had our pick of places to live. We accepted our home teacher's offer for several reasons. One of them was that they have five boys (one two days older than Davy) and Davy would fit right in and revel in the activity of the house. And he did fit right in. Laura took our son and adopted him for the week, bathing and dressing him when I was physically and emotionally unable to even think about such duties. Jesse and Laura are both incredibly down to earth and very fun to be around--great traits for anytime but especially in this situation.

Our Relief Society President became my second mother for the week, making sure to give me a hug when she saw me, telling me to take a nap and eat and since I was so newly post-partum she was also was on the watch for any signs of depression.

My visiting teacher took on the full time job of taking care of our stuff and getting it ready to be used when we should find a new place to live. She marshaled forces from her family and the ward to clean our saved furniture, toys, books, pictures, etc. with disinfectant wipes. It was a stinky, messy job but it remarkably turned into a party. It was so fun to see so many of my Activity Day girls there with their moms doing service--on a school holiday, too!

On the Sunday when the fire happened, Collin was packed and ready to fly to Pennsylvania the next day for two weeks for work. His team was kind enough to not require him to go, and to do what work he could from "home." So Collin was able to be with us and start taking care of the immediate needs of getting stuff out of the apartment, stopping the mail, and looking for a new place. We found a few listings on Craig's list and other similar sites. We looked at them, but were not impressed. They would do, but would not be equivalent or better than our previous situation. Then a kind member of our ward referred us to a real estate agent who had done some work with their extended family and had a good relationship with them. We contacted her and she was very kind and attentive to us. She mentioned to us that someone from California (one of the extended family members whose house was sold by the agency, we assume, and with whom we've had little to no interaction) had called to ask that everything possible be done to get us into a home in Belmont as soon as possible. She pulled in her contacts and within a day found us two suitable apartments to look at. Then we had a choice between two good places--one in our current ward and one barely over the border into another. It didn't take long to make our decision. I'm sure there are lovely people in the other ward, but we knew that we needed to be as close to home as possible.

So we signed a contract the next day for a new and nicer apartment. And the next morning, Saturday, several mini vans and suburbans moved our boxes and bookshelves in. It was the fastest and easiest process for a move that we've ever been a part of in the several moves of our marriage. There was no place to sit down in our apartment (we'd lost all the fabric furniture to water and smoke damage) and at one point during the morning I found the nice young woman who had been holding Eddy sitting on the toilet seat to rest her legs. I spent much of the day with Eddy in the sling, nursing him while orchestrating placing and unpacking of boxes. Finally, our RS President had her husband bring over an old armchair from their house so I could sit down to feed the baby. Ahhh, that felt good! We had so many small miracles that day, like a family in our ward who had a gently used top-of-the-line king sized Ikea mattress that they wanted to give us. My cousins brought dining chairs and bath towels. Two of our good friends brought enough groceries to stock our pantry and refrigerator--even my favorite peanut butter and jam!

We have been more blessed than I can even describe in words. I can't remember or don't know all the angels and miracles that surrounded us in this circumstance. I almost feel that this wasn't really a trial--not nearly what it could have been. More than anything, I feel that this was an opportunity for our Heavenly Father to show us how much he knows and loves my little family, and for our ward to draw close together in service and eternal friendship.



Davy loved helping hang pictures, open boxes, and running around in the furniture-less, spacious apartment. He took all the change in stride, which was a blessing. There were a few moments where the stress of it all--the different houses he was staying in, the distracted parents, the lack of toys (until they came back after being run through a dishwasher), etc. caused some behavioral issues, but overall he was a trooper. And now we know why Eddy was born such an easy baby! He has been a sweet dear through it all. The video below is at our home teacher's house, as a reminder that the joy in life is often in the moment, as toddlers are so brilliant at showing us. Your house can be in ruins and the next moment you are playing on the floor with a child and life is good.

New Beginnings

For those of you checking back to see what's been going on since we lost our home, please be assured that we are doing well. Amazingly well, actually! We have found a new, great place, and have been blessed by so many miracles big and small. We will be posting a detailed post soon, but first we have to get set up with internet at our new home. So in the meantime, thank you for your prayers and love.

Fire!

On Sunday, November 7 at around 4:30 pm we were sitting in our living room relaxing. Collin was working on something for his Young Men's calling, Davy was playing trains on the floor and I was nursing the baby and dozing in the chair. Suddenly we heard a commotion just outside our front door and banging and the doorbell ringing. I thought it was some fun family from our ward doorbell ditching us a plate of cookies. Collin went out to investigate and half closed the door behind him to give me some privacy.

I went back into my half-doze, then jerked awake as Collin came barging back in the house and said in a voice I have never heard him use, "Rachel, get out of the house NOW!" I immediately obeyed him, and pulled Eddy away from his meal, grabbed Davy's hand and ran out the door. It wasn't until the boys and I were on the sidewalk outside the house without shoes or coats that I looked up and saw the flames and the smoke billowing out of the back of our house. I yelled to Collin, who had run back inside to grab his work computer and phone to call 911, to get a blanket for the baby. We were then joined by our upstairs neighbors, whose apartment was on fire. We went across the street to stand on that sidewalk and I started to cry.

Then sirens wailed as police cars blocked off the road several blocks on either side. Fire trucks arrived seconds after and firemen jumped out to start putting out the fire. Hoses were rolled out and the fire was contained a few minutes later. The police kept moving us further and further down the block. I'd wrapped the baby in the blanket Collin brought out and some nice lady asked if she could hold him, because Davy kept wanting to wander closer to the action to see the fire trucks and firemen. So I handed off Eddy and picked up Davy. He was shivering and another nice stranger put a big blanket over both of us. Our upstairs neighbors were watching in shock as their home burned, and I went over to the wife to give her a hug and tell her things were going to be okay. We both cried together for a while. Her small boys, six and seven, were watching. The youngest was crying and I gave him a hug and asked the older boy, who was not crying, if he was scared. He said he was and I told him that I was too.

At this point I realized that Eddy was still hungry and both boys were cold. The house was still in flames, but I told Collin that we needed to get the boys away and inside. The nice lady who was holding Eddy walked with me to our good friend's house, just down the block. Collin went back to "help the firemen," as Davy keeps saying. (He stayed to see what happened.) We arrived on the doorstep of our friend's home and asked if we could rest there until we knew what to do next. Emily dashed into action and didn't stop taking care of us and the situation until we had to leave the next day.

After putting Davy down to sleep that night and getting the baby all set to be left with Emily for an hour, I went back with Collin to the house to see what might be saved. It was dark and cold and starting to rain outside. Several firefighters in full get-up escorted us inside our home with flashlights. It was damp and smoky and drippy and awful inside. We scurried around grabbing scrapbooks, journals, and important pictures off the wall and stuffing them inside trash bags. The bishop and many other men from the ward were there to carry stuff into a waiting van.

The next day Collin returned to see what else might be salvageable. We were lucky to recover most of our clothes (that were washed by women in the Relief Society. One sister said it was like a camp-fire on steroids smell.), several pieces of wood furniture, kitchen utensils, and most of the books. Mattresses, couches, and all our food is gone. Our neighbors lost everything. Here are some pictures of the house:

This is the back of the house, where the fire started.

There's nothing more spooky than a boarded up house with left-over Halloween decorations on the front porch.

What a mess! Fireman boot prints all over the floor and pillows. Not that I think they should have removed their shoes before entering my house!

This damage happened overnight. Yikes! I was a little shocked to see this, even though Collin had warned me a wall fell down. I have to say, I got the worst stomach ache from being in this place. The smoke and the mildewy smells, and the emotional distress were too much for me. I never want to go back in the apartment.

I was baking a cake to bring for refreshments for an FHE at a friend's house. I was so afraid that I had forgotten to turn off the oven and that I was responsible for the fire. I had remembered to turn off the oven, but it's funny that that was the first thing that came to my mind in the moment. You know you muse in Sunday school about the things you would grab if your house were on fire. Yeah, well, I can say that from experience your mind just goes blank as you stand there watching something completely out of your control.

The ceiling in several rooms was caving in and cracking.

Again, we really had very little damage to our things. Here are some pictures of the destruction upstairs:

We were in the news! Here's a link to an article on the fire: http://belmont.patch.com/articles/update-beech-street-fire-accidental

This has been a sad, emotional, tough couple of days. Still, we have been flooded with help, love, concern, and faith. We have witnessed our incredible family, church, and community in full action. Forces have been marshalled to assist us and the other family. I wish we were on the giving end of this service, but we are so grateful and humbled to be receiving it. Within minutes of arriving at Ben and Emily's house diapers and toothbrushes and shampoo arrived from wonderful neighbors and friends. Since then the clothes, shoes, coats, diapers, meals, etc. have poured in. Thank you, thank you!

Edward John's Blessing

Today, we blessed and named Edward John Lambourne in church. He fit perfectly into his blessing outfit that Rachel made for all the Lambourne boys, which means he's definitely bigger than Davy was at that age. He was well-behaved for the actual blessing -- half asleep, half resting the whole time with no need for a pacifier (not that he would take one anyway . . .).

Collin enjoyed having wonderful friends around him for the blessing and wished that it were feasible to have 20 or more men fit in the circle as we have many cherished friends with whom we love to share these experiences with.

Here are a few snippets from the blessing:

Blessed with a healthy, strong body as a gift from our Heavenly Father. Encouraged to take care of his body and use it as the Lord would have him do so.

Blessed to have been born in the covenant and to be sealed to mother & father & brother. Blessed to one day find his own worthy companion and to partake of temple ordinances.

Blessed to recognize the light of Christ and to learn how to listen to the Spirit. Blessed to be bold and humble in sharing his testimony as it develops.

Catching Up: Edward's birth story

It’s been almost six weeks since Edward John was born. I think it’s finally time to write down the things I remember from his birth. Beware to those who don’t want all the details, ‘cause here is the full-disclosure version of Eddy’s birth:

I was so sure that Eddy would come on or very close to his due date. Unlike with Davy, we were absolutely sure we had the correct date, and my grandpa Edward’s birthday was the same day. So of course he would be born on his namesake’s birthday! But a week later we were still waiting. I was positive the baby would never come, that he would be stuck inside and I would be pregnant forever. I had an inducement date looming and I was praying for labor to start and progress naturally. Collin, my mom and sister, and I had fun researching ways (some of them quack, I’m sure) to induce labor. We tried walking my feet off, several herbal supplements and teas, accupressure points (I think I had bruises for several days from some of those experiments), and a “mommy massage.” I have no idea which, if any, of these things helped start labor, but at long last it started.

I started having contractions that could be called contractions the evening of September 28. These were the easy contractions, where it was a sensation every fifteen minutes or so, but in between I could work on my cross stitch project and chat with mom and Erica. I had sent Collin off to play basketball, since even if things started to happen fast he could be home within 10 minutes. So it was just us girls for the early, “fun” part of labor. Erica sat on the couch taking note of how long the contractions lasted and how frequently they came. She was so cute with her notepad and pen and eyes on the clock! I think she even put a star by the contractions that were hard enough to make me close my eyes.

Anyway, contractions started around 8:30 and continued in the same vein for a while. I decided to try and get some sleep in case it was a long night or day the next day. I got about an hour and a half of sleep, being woken every 15 minutes by contractions, before I realized that they were coming closer and closer together. (Meanwhile Collin had come home from basketball. I used a handy-dandy App on his iPhone to time contractions.) I was up and finishing random things around the house and just pacing for another 45 minutes before I decided it was time to wake up Collin and my mom and get going. We got to the hospital around 1:30 am and they checked me in and checked me out. I was still sure that this was a false alarm and they would send me back home (my worst fear). I was so relieved when they said I could stay!

I spent an hour or so (I think . . . I wasn’t focused on keeping track of the time) in the tub, then got tired of that and moved to the bed. They brought out the labor ball, but as with Davy’s labor I didn’t feel like using it. I sat on the edge of the bed for most of the rest of the labor, leaning against Collin’s strong, warm body for support and comfort. I looked into Collin’s eyes for some of the hardest contractions and though I didn’t feel brave in the moment, I saw that he knew I could do it and was proud of me. My mom stood behind me and massaged my shoulders and stroked my hair like she used to when I was a little girl.

I got so tired and actually slept inbetween contractions for a little while. I think labor slowed a little then, but all of a sudden it picked up and the baby and I decided we were ready (well, ready or not, here he came anyway!). Contractions picked up and I started to feel the urge to push. I knew from Davy’s labor that I couldn’t yet, but I still started telling everyone that I wanted to. Then asking, then pleading. Man, there is nothing so fierce as the need to push a baby out! Hunger, thirst—maybe when you are experiencing starvation or dehydration the need to eat and drink is similar, but I’ve never experienced that. The desire to push a baby, though, I know to be all consuming. Finally, finally they said I could push a little if I wanted. But they made me slow down and hold back until the right time. I knew intellectually that this was exactly the correct thing to do. I hated every minute of self-control!

My back had started to hurt, so by this time I was on all fours to relieve the pressure on my back. The midwife warned me that if anything was a little off they would have to turn me very quickly to my back in order to take care of whatever was the matter. In the meantime it was a very effective position for me to be laboring. I began to talk to my baby and pray to God at the same time, begging for this to be over soon and for my baby to be safe and OUT. I don’t remember if it was out loud, but probably. I do remember that in the final moments they had to tell me not to scream. I had to save my energy for pushing, apparently. Pooh.

The baby crowned and I was in agony. Then there was a flurry as they told me I had to be on my back NOW. Collin and my mom helped lift me around. The baby was stuck. Aside: They had warned me before hand, when I had an ultra-sound for being a week over, that the baby was measuring 10 lb 13 oz. They said it was an inaccurate measurement, because the pregnancy was so advanced and the weight could be more or less a pound in either direction. Anyway, it was still a big measurement and the midwives were worried that the baby’s shoulders could get stuck. They offered a cesarean, but I declined and said we would go ahead naturally and vaginally. I felt confident things would be fine. And I trusted that if anything did happen they could resolve it. Back to the story . . . The baby was stuck because his right hand was up by his face and the midwife had to help guide his head and hand out to prevent injury. With one last push he entered the world, just as the sun was rising and bringing a new day.

I love the sound of a baby’s first wail. Crying never sounds so good as when it’s the first sound they make after hours of labor for both mom and baby! Edward John measured remarkably close to what his ultra-sound predicted, at 10 lbs. 14 oz. He has been such a pleasure to welcome into our family. He was a very fast learner for nursing (it helped that I knew what to do this time around), rarely cries, and sleeps incredibly well. Eddy is such a nice baby and we like him a lot!

What We've Been Doing . . .

. . . We've raked leaves! We did this clean-up on the last dry day last week, thank goodness. I despise slimey nasty wet leaves as much as I love nice crunchy leaves.


. . . We've been sleeping! Eddy's a sweet little sleeper. Yay for big babies! I thought I would never want to carry a big baby again, but if they come out knowing how to sleep (especially at night) then I will gladly carry another 10 pounder!


. . . We've been shopping! We went to the Wrenthem outlet mall yesterday. I needed some more boots since we live in New England now. (HOW have I gotten through the past few winters without decent boots? My first great pair were a Christmas present from my parents last year and I am now a boot convert.) We got some great deals on tights for me, shoes for Collin, shirts for Collin, socks for Collin. Wait, why did we go shopping again? Oh, yeah. And boots for me! Davy was a great sport, helping take shoes and packaging in and out of boxes, socks on and off racks, etc. Then in the food court he saw this clear across the room and made a beeline. We let him play for a while before it was back to "work."


. . . We've been fighting! Davy did not want to take a nap in the stroller and protested loudly until he finally fell asleep, to everyone's relief. Eddy slept the whole time, except for ten minutes while he had lunch and the two minutes before I snapped this picture. We did not plan the boys' coordinating outfits, but it's cute anyhow!


. . . We've been growing up! Davy was fighting going down again for bedtime, crying something we didn't understand. Finally we let him down and he went straight for the big bed. I'd been planning to have him try out the "big boy" bed after Christmas sometime, maybe after we come back from California. But he slept the whole night there and napped there today as well. We might be back and forth for a while between the crib and the bed, but if he's ready now we'll go for it! Maybe the toilet-learning bug will bite sometime soon, too . . .


. . . And we've been very cute. At least the younger half of our family have been adorable! Here are some videos of Davy and Eddy for your enjoyment.

While I was busy making dinner, I turned around for a second and came upon this sweet scene of my two boys "playing together." I ran to get the camera and was able to get a video clip with him unaware I was recording. See if you can pick out the phrases of "patty cake" Davy recites.

Wow, I love baby smiles! Eddy was a great social smiler at four weeks old. I know we're not supposed to compare our kids, but he smiled earlier than I expected after having Davy's first smile at six weeks.

Collin and Davy were outside playing catch and Collin did a pitcher-type throw to Davy. He was absolutely intrigued and spent the next 20 minutes perfecting his own pitching. Here are some of his early attempts at throwing while simultaneously moving a leg. Pretty tricky coordination!

Blood

This is the sad story of what happens when you don't hold Mom's hand in the street:

Collin had to stay late at church on Sunday for a meeting and choir, so I was taking the boys home for lunch and naps. I had the infant car seat, the overstuffed diaper/church bag, and some other random thing in my hands that I can't remember. Davy is allowed to run by himself on the sidewalk, but is supposed to hold my hand in the street. We reached the end of the sidewalk and were approaching the street. I warned him it was time to hold my hand and reached down to grab his hand with my "free" hand. He struggled and pulled away--as he had many times before. This time, though, I wasn't able to keep hold of his hand and he slipped from my grasp, hard, face down on the asphalt in the middle of the parking lot. I knew before I even looked that it was going to be bad. I set the car seat down and dropped everything else. I picked Davy up and saw blood pouring out of his nose.

Moms swarmed. Literally all the ladies, including a pediatric emergency room doctor, in the vicinity rushed over and started panicking (for me--I was feeling remarkably calm about handling the situation). I pulled out a cloth diaper to help staunch the blood and carried Davy inside to the bathroom to lie down and get cleaned up and calmed down. Poor baby. He was so sweet, looking so trustingly in my eyes and listening to the Primary songs that I sang him. After the blood had stopped and Davy had some baby Tylenol in him the guilt and the panic set in. I felt so bad for not being able to prevent the accident. The good thing, though, is that the incident impressed in Davy's mind the importance of holding hands in the street--he now grabs for my hand when he sees we're coming to the street and holds the whole way across. I wish we could all learn from life's trials so quickly!