Meaning: "Told by God," "Listener"

Baby Girl Cook's due date is approaching faster than ever. We are at ten weeks and counting...the nursery isn't done and her clothes haven't been washed but she HAS a name.

Samantha Caelyn Cook: To be called "Sam" or "Sammie," whichever sticks. The story behind her first name isn't near as sentimental as that of her middle name. But nonetheless, it has a story too. Not to mention, she will have the same initials as mommy!

I'm a child of the 80s. And that means I grew up on great sitcoms, sitcoms that put to shame what is offered on current television. One of my favorites has always been "Who's the Boss." Those that grew up on 80s sitcoms, probably remember "Sam," played by Alyssa Milano. The daughter of Tony Danza on the show. I remember being drawn to Sam's character. The beautiful tomboy who had an admirable relationship with her father and was well-rounded in life. Even more so, I loved her name. I've always loved female names that when shortened are what most would consider "boy" names. Whoever was going to be sent my way to marry would HAVE to like the name...

Fast forward 20 or so years (yep, feeling old) and enter Hagie Cook into the picture. Like most couples, in the beginning Hagie and I had the "what if" discussions that included marriage and kids (how many, names we liked, gender we preferred, etc). To put a year to the story, it's fair to say that Hagie and I have had Baby Girl Cook's name picked out since about 2002-2003. It is a name we both agreed on from the beginning and one that we both liked shortened to "Sam." Now, to be fair to Hagie, I should probably say that him liking Samantha has nothing to do with "Who's the Boss," but it is a name that he loves.

Once Hagie and I were married and began discussing when to begin a family, "Sam" was the only option for a little girl. We didn't need to have a discussion. When God blessed us with Connor, we were thrilled and the name "Samantha" was put on a shelf in case we were to be blessed with a little girl in the future.

Interestingly, when I was about 12 weeks pregnant with Samantha, the ultrasound tech guessed boy but told me it was only a guess and that at 12 weeks gestation it's difficult to observe differences. I went home and called Hagie who happily accepted the idea of another son but didn't give up on the idea of adding a Samantha to our family. At my 18 week ultrasound, the ultrasound tech stated "y'all do want to know the sex right?" Well, in my head I was thinking I already knew but she could confirm. When she began typing a "g" on the ultrasound screen, I thought I would fall off the table, meanwhile, Hagie sat in his chair grinning from ear to ear. God had given us our Samantha. We both looked at her on the screen and knew she already had a name:). No debate needed.

If you combine the meaning of Samantha's first and middle names it means "listener loved forever." Samantha was loved before she was ever conceived and we cannot wait to meet her.

Samantha Caelyn Cook we await your arrival! "Sam" or "Sammie" to be determined.

"Pouty Sundays"

Well, Sunday evening has come again. I dread Sunday afternoons because lately what this means is that Hagie has to hit the road. We always have such a lovely Sunday morning grabbing our weekly Starbucks, attending church and eating at a new restaurant for lunch...courtesy of Scoutmob. We are expanding our lists of favorites!

You can feel the energy level at the Cook's shifts a bit come about 5pm. Hagie is usually packing his suitcase after taking a power nap; gearing up for his weekly drive to Jacksonville or wherever he is needed. Although Connor and I, sadly, have become used to "daddy" traveling it never gets easier watching him pull away for the week. We miss him. Our time with him consists of late Friday evenings to Sundays at 6pm. Hag doesn't like it anymore than we do. But Hagie, being the person/husband/daddy that he is,sacrifices so that his family is provided for.

I often wonder what it must be like for him week in and week out to be in a hotel room, away from his family. At least here at home, I have Connor and family and friends to call on when I need to be entertained or just need some emotional support. Hagie has paperwork, browsing the Internet and television to keep him company. Not quite the same.

September will be three years since Hagie has had this job which requires that he be gone each week Monday through Friday. He hangs on, we hang on and we cherish the moments we do get to spend together. Even when our weekends are spent running errands and taking care of things around the house its okay because we do them together.

I pray diligently that the right opportunity for Hagie will come sooner than later. The building industry is difficult right now, even when you have twenty something years experience. There's a lesson here somewhere and I'm keeping my eyes open so I am sure to learn it the first time. Maybe the lesson is patience, maybe it's making our marriage stronger, maybe it's truly understanding that things don't happen on our time clock but when God sees fit, or maybe this job is lining up Hagie for an amazing opportunity in which he can be home with us more. Time will tell.

While I patiently wait, late Sunday afternoons will be dreaded and Connor and I (soon along with Baby Girl) will "do what we do" each week. But we'll continue to miss Hagie and pray for his safety and well-being until he comes home on Friday.

We love you Hag and miss you when you're gone.

"It's All in Her Name"

Hagie and I are thrilled that in about 11 weeks our little girl will make her debut. We are so eager to meet her, see what she looks like and incorporate her right into our madness.

We have spend a lot of time pondering the perfect name. We have had her first name picked out since, oh, about 2004. The middle name has been the challenge. As Hagie and I dated and talked about marriage and kids, it became even more evident to me that I wanted to give all of my children middle names, after someone who is special, irreplaceable and someone that my children could be proud to be named after.

For baby girl Cook, I am so excited to give her a middle name that is as beautiful as the person she will be named after. Baby girl's middle name is Caelyn. Caelyn is my first cousin.

It's difficult to even know where to begin in my story about why Caelyn is so special to me, Hagie and Connor. Caelyn and I's story begins when she was just a wee little tot and I had the pleasure of babysitting her and eventually spending several days at a time with her when her parents were out of town. She was such a beautiful little girl; full of joy and excitment to play and try new things, easy-going, and just plain loveable. She hasn't changed. I remember Caelyn and I getting stuck at her house when the big snow/ice storm of the early 90s hit the Atlanta area. It was just me and Caelyn and a house full of movies, toys, and food. She loved the television show "Saved By the Bell" and had every Disney movie ever recorded. That kept us busy. I kept a fire in the fireplace for us and we sat on a cozy couch right in front of it. That seems like ages ago.

I continued to babysit Caelyn regularly and even as she got older, I'd spent the night with her to keep her company if her parents were going to be out of town. As Caelyn got older, our outings consisted of a meal at a good restaurant, mall trips, and visits to see our Memaw. Memaw would be so proud of Caelyn. It seems like time flew and before I knew it, Caelyn was in high school, playing sports and making plans for college. I still cannot look at Caelyn and not see an image of that little girl that used to let me help her get dressed (always best dressed) and put her hair in a ponytail. She didn't always like her hair being brushed and pulled up, but we managed.

I'll never forget the day Caelyn, my aunt, and my other cousin came to visit me and Connor a couple of days after Connor was born. It was March of 2006. Upon them leaving, my aunt told me that Caelyn had been having some severe back pain that wouldn't let up and that after tests, the doctors had found a cyst type mass and she had been scheduled for back surgery. Not "my little Caelyn," was my first thought. Long story short, after the doctor's removed the mass, Caelyn was diagnosed with Ewing Sarcoma cancer. At the young age of 17 and on March 17, 2006. A rare form of cancer that only 150-200 people are diagnosed with every year. What lied ahead of Caelyn would test my own faith and the faith of all those who love her. Caelyn endured both chemotherapy and radiation, lost her hair, pushed through the horrific side effects of chemotherapy and still managed to graduate from the Marist School on time. If you know Caelyn, you'd know to expect nothing less! Caelyn's senior year at Marist she was nominated and won Homecoming Queen, bald head and all! Caelyn is an amazing person in so many ways but how she dealt with losing her hair at age 17 is worth writing about. Caelyn and her mom had gone to the best wig shop in town, bought a wig made of real hair and one that would resemble her real hair as close as possible. What I love is that Caelyn decided she didn't want to be bothered with the wig and she shaved what was left of her hair and sported the bald look. She pulled it off beautifully!

Caelyn will reach her five year cancer free anniversary, post chemo, on January 8, 2012. Thank you God for doing what you say you do and healing Caelyn's body!On behalf of Hagie and me, there's another reason why Caelyn is so special to us. When I first started dating Hagie, I didn't tell my family. I feared their reaction and judgement. However, I did tell Caelyn about Hagie. Looking back, this wasn't fair of me to do to Caelyn (be the only family member to know besides my sister)but I had to tell her...she was my sidekick. Caelyn's initial reaction was different than other family members. She passed no judgement and accepted Hagie from the first time she met him. Their first meeting...a meal at Loco's in Buckhead, where he met us for dinner. Caelyn you will never know how much your support and love has meant to us over the years.
I can't write this post without writing about Connor and Caelyn's relationship. Caelyn, despite being busy at UGA, has always made time to get to know Connor and build a special relationship with him. In all honesty, Connor melts when Caelyn is around. His initial name for her was "Cay Cay." As he has gotten older he refers to her as Caelyn. He's even requested that "baby sister's first name should be Caelyn because I love her." Simply precious. Caelyn has found her place in Connor's heart and it's always such a joy to watch the two of them together.


So, why is Caelyn so special to us? She lives her life and stands for all that we want our own little girl to believe in and demonstrate in her own life. Caelyn's faith, even when dealing with cancer, is strong and unwavering. She takes life in stride and recognizes that there is someone greater than herself at work. She's as beautiful on the inside as she is the outside. Caelyn's love and dedication for her family takes precedence over all things. She maintains her priorities and lives her life nonjudgemental of others. Caelyn is a girl's girl when the situation calls for it and she can hang with the guys like the best of them. Sincere, beautiful, athletic, fun, easy-going, and lives life to the fullest.

Caelyn, as you read this, know that it is with purpose and love that Baby Girl Cook will have your name. We love you and are so excited that Baby Cook will have you in her life. You are a blessing to us all and we thank God for you every day.

"Vito"

In school, US and World history were never something I was interested in knowing more about. That's not to say that I don't love my country or that I don't respect those that have fought in the past or those currently fighting. It's just that the details of war, who did what and when, never really kept my attention.

About three weeks ago, Andy Stanley preached a sermon on forgiveness. He recommended that we read "Unbroken," by Laura Hillenbrand (A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption). The WWII vet that the book is written about actually made a visit to Buckhead church. It was an honor. The book was described to us as an account of his experience in war (Army Air Forces), being a POW who was horrifically abused and tortured. It's his account of how he came to forgive the very men that hurt him. Now, those of you who know me well, will immediately recognize that it's not the story of war that caught my interest rather this man's experience of abuse. Once a social worker, always a social worker.

This week I dove into the book, eager to read of his experience and learn a thing or two about forgiveness in the meantime. This book is beyond anything I could have imagined and it's a page turner for sure. I have to force myself to put it down. My definition of a good book! What is shocking is that I've enjoyed reading the first-hand account of war, especially since this hero (Louis Zamperini) was heavily involved in the happenings surrounding Pearl Harbor. The book details some staggering facts that completely blew my mind. I want to share:
~In less than 2 hours over Pearl Harbor, Japan badly wounded the American Navy and killed more than 2400 people.
~In the AAF, there were 52,651 stateside aircraft accidents over the course of war, killing 14,903 personnel (Zamperini referred to the plane he began flying in as "The Flying Coffin").
~In WWII, 35,933 AAF planes were lost in combat and accidents.
~35,946 personnel died in nonbattle situations, the vast majority of them in accidental crashes.
~A report issued by the AAF surgeon general reported that between November 1, 1943 and May 25, 1945, 70% of men listed as killed in action died in operational aircraft accidents, not as a result of enemy action. The problem, in most cases, were the planes.
~WWII has been referred to "a war without funerals."

I'm not just rambling about this book for nothing. The bottom line is that this book has left me thinking about my deceased grandfather,Vito Rappa, who was a WWII Navy vet. This book continues to make me think about my grandfather and what he must have endured during war, on a ship at sea with bombers flying all around and an ocean filled with swarming sharks. Vito was an Italian charmer. He was handsome, proud of the US Navy, and loved his family. Vito had his issues too though. I am convinced that my grandfather suffered with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) every day of his life after returning from war. Like many PTSD sufferers and war vets, Vito came to rely on alcohol, likely his way of self-medicating the memories and anxiety that he was left with after his experiences in war.

Vito never talked a lot about war. In fact, I only have one memory of what he told me about his experience. He told me the hardest part of being in the Navy during the war was that one of his "duties" was to discard the bodies of his deceased mates. He explained that this consisted of throwing the dead bodies overboard into the shark infested Pacific Ocean. The bodies of men that had come to be his compadres and his buddies. I cannot even imagine what that must have been like for him. That's not something you ever forget and he didn't.

In reading "Unbroken," I have come to regret not sitting down with Vito and listening to his stories. What a brave man he was and his experiences shaped the person he was. I should have taken the time to listen, to understand what life was like on that Navy ship, and I didn't. Vito died several years ago and buried with him are his memories of World War II. Memories and experiences that cannot be dug up - perhaps that's the way he wanted it.

Thinking of you Granddad.....

Oh So Delicate

I don't remember worrying about something going wrong during my pregnancy with Connor. Maybe it's because at that time not everyone around me was trying to conceive or already pregnant. Over the past few years, I've been reminded that the beginning of human life is extremely delicate and sometimes God has a plan we don't necessarily understand.

In 2006, I was oblivious to how common miscarriages are, how difficult it is for some couples to conceive and just how precious every week of pregnancy is. I had the experience in 2009-2010 of witnessing one of my best friends go through the emotional toll of trying to conceive. Standing by her side, emotionally, what strength and courage she showed on her long journey that led to fertility treatments. I saw first hand the worry about whether or not she and her husband were even capable of creating and then the anxiety, hope and upset associated with fertility treatments. I couldn't relate but her pain was my pain and her experience was one of two happenings "around" me that reminded me just how little control we have when it comes to conception. I was also humbly reminded of just how fortunate I am to have had an easy time conceiving. I am thankful for being witness to her experience.

A second event occured to someone who is an acquaintance but the experience affected someone dear and close to my heart. This acquaintance miscarried at about 22 weeks gestation. How devastating for her and her family. Yet again, something before hearing of her experience, had not been something within my scope. For the majority of people walking around, it isn't even a thought that there are women every day dealing with the loss of a child either in the womb or shortly after delivery. For me, it's on my radar and has altered my own thinking regarding pregnancy and loss.

Because of the experiences of people around me, throughout my current pregnancy, I continue to be very aware that being able to conceive and carry a child is indeed a blessing and one not to be taken lightly. After each appointment to check on Baby Girl Cook, I breathe a sigh of relief and thank God for a healthy baby and a pregnancy that is being protected by someone far greater than me. None of us are meant to understand the why and why nots of life but we can learn from our own experiences and the experiences of others. It's the experiences like I have mentioned that force us to look beyond ourselves and attempt to accept that in all actuality, at the end of the day we have very little control over most things in our lives. That's a difficult one. I guess that's why I spend a lot of time with my clients teaching them the importance of using their energy to work on the things they can control and accept those things in life that are simply out of their realm of power.

So, in moving forward, with each kick I feel and heartbeat I hear, I am full of gratitude. Grateful for a process that is completely out of my control and one that cannot be explained.

*Pic taken from internet.

Settling Hormones

Ok, so I must give credit where credit is due. A few posts ago I wrote about my mood being far less than "normal." One of my doctors attempted to reassure me weeks ago that what I was feeling was "most likely" hormonal and around 24-26 weeks I should start to notice a change...for the better. Well, I do believe he is right.

I just hit the 24 week mark (holy cow only 16 weeks to go). And I do feel better. I feel motivated, have had several days of cleaning sprees, felt like cooking and all together feel more like myself. Thank Goodness!

As I mentioned in an earlier post, feeling depressed was a new one for me. Fortunately, depression is not something I have had to battle in my past. Now that I've experienced it for a couple of months during this pregnancy, I have an even greater level of empathy for my clients that suffer from chronic depression. It is my hope that this new experience follows suit with my perception that my own life experiences only add to my clinical abilities and serve to enhance my clinical practice. For this, I am grateful.

"FIVE...when did that happen?!?"

I'm a couple weeks late but my baby boy turned 5 on March 3! I feel like just yesterday my precious sidekick was born. Since day 1, he has been my baby, my teacher, my sidekick, and my challenger. There's not a day that goes by that my love for Connor doesn't grow stronger and there's not a day that goes by that he doesn't try my patience in one form or another. I can hear my mother saying "PAYBACK!" Even with the challenges of parenthood, I would not trade one moment spent with my lil guy.

In 2006, I had not started blogging yet, so I want to take a few minutes and document my memories of March 3, 2006. The day my life and heart were changed forever.

Very briefly, my water broke at about 5:45am. I was 39 weeks. As I rolled over, the sheets soaked, I told Hagie that I thought my water had just broke. His classic response "Are you sure you didn't just wet the bed?" I called the Emory midwives who told me I could take my time but that I should be at Emory Crawford Long by 9am or so. I surprised myself at just how calm I was. Having no discomfort or pain, I proceeded to take a shower, call my parents and sister, and make sure everything was in place for when Connor would come home. Even had time to ride through the Chick-fil-A drive thru.

Not surprisingly, Hagie and I had waited until the last minute to install the infant car seat. Sooo...a stop by the Virginia Highlands fire station was in order. The only thing I really remember about this part was the fireman asking me when I was due. I chuckled as I told him "now!"

Hagie and I arrived at Crawford Long about 9am and the nurse got me set up with an IV port and I waited to see a midwife. I knew they were going to admit me because my water had broke but I certainly didn't feel like I was in active labor. Still no pain..the only pain I had endured so far was the nurse stabbing my vein and blood spewing all over her and the floor. That was pretty!

I was admitted and checked and I had barely dilated. I was encouraged to walk and walk and walk. There's only so many times I could walk in the same circle. After a few hours, the midwife agreed to induce contractions/labor with pitocin. This was at about 2:30-3pm. It sure didn't take long after being hooked up to the pitocin that my contractions began and my body began to dilate. I remember laying in the bed, mom and dad and my sister Kelli in the room. Hagie sat beside me looking at comic books online. Now that I write that, it's kinda funny. I ended up asking for the epidural as my pain became more and more intense.

It wasn't long before my body began progressing quickly. Dad and Kelli left the room and Hagie and Mom stayed by my side. With my blood pressure getting higher than they wanted, it was a good thing that Connor decided "let's do this!" I recall as my sister left the room, telling her to get the midwife ASAP because I HAD to push! About 4 pushes and 15 minutes later, Connor arrived in the world at 8:58pm. Hagie swears that Connor arrived with his head turned looking towards Daddy. What a great memory! Connor arrived weighing in at 6 pounds, 5 ounces and was 19 inches long. Completely bald and a little jaundice.

After not being able to eat while in active labor, I was absolutely starving. My sweet and gracious Dad went to both Burger King and Krispy Kreme because I HAD to have a whopper and donuts:). Thanks Dad in case I never told you.

Well, that's the short version of my baby boy's entrance to this world. I will continue to love him, protect him, discipline him, and teach him so that he grows up to be a young man that can hold his head high. Praying for guidance and strength as Hagie and I have been entrusted with his precious life. We won't let him down!