Every morning, O and I try and have prayers for a good day and for protection for ourselves and for our loved ones throughout the course of their day. One day last week, I was getting ready to take our dogs out. When we take the dogs out they tend to get a little excited and become a little unruly. I have tried to teach O to stay by me so she doesn't get knocked over. This particular day, on our way out I noticed that one of our dogs had already made a puddle on our wood floor. Not wanting O to slip on it when we came back in, I thought I would put a paper towel over it and clean it up when we came in. While my back was turned, O decided to go over where the dogs were and in the process got knocked over and busted her lip and cut her gum. 
   I called Caleb to let him know what was going on and that I was trying to stop the bleeding. There had been so much blood that I hadn't been able to assess the damage yet, so I told him we may or may not end up needing to take her into the doctor. 
    After calling Caleb, I texted my mom (who used to work as a dental hygienist) to see if I needed to take her in to the dentist or not. She said it probably wasn't a big deal but I should call my dentist (my aunt) and speak with Maria (her current assistant) about it. 
   I called my Aunt's office and explained to Maria what had happened. At this point I had been able to check the tooth and it wasn't loose and it hadn't changed colors. My aunt asked me to send her a picture because her only concern was whether or not the cut in her gum could have cut an important muscle in your mouth.
   I sent her the picture and got a response a short time later that everything looked as good as it could, considering and that as long as I kept O from eating things like toast that could reopen the cut, she should be just fine.
   When the adrenaline from the situation settled a bit, I was left with an overwhelming relief and the knowledge that God was watching out for my baby. Her tooth was spared, the muscles in her mouth was spared, and while I know she was in a little bit of pain, it was negligible compared to what it could have been if she had busted or tooth or needed stitches.    I am so grateful for God's protection over my family, even in the little things like baby teeth. I am happy to say that it's been less than a week and all that's left is a very little scab where her lip busted open. God is good. 

   Caleb and I had started talking after O was born about when we thought a good time to try and have another kid would be. We talked about a couple different time frames, and eventually decided when she was around two we would start trying to have another kid. In May, we decided we were ready. I was already scheduled for my yearly gynecologist appointment that month, so once we got the okay from my doctor we started trying. 
   The next month I was tentatively hopeful as the date of my expected period came and went. However, a week and three negative pregnancy tests later I called my doctor to see if that was normal. They had me come in to get my blood drawn for some tests. 
   The results of the test came back showing that I hadn't ovulated that month. I was pretty discouraged. I felt like my body was betraying me. I felt like I was letting Caleb down. Without ovulation, you won't get your period, so my doctor prescribed a medicine to force my period to start. The hope was that that would be enough to remind my body what it was supposed to be doing and  that the next month I would ovulate on my own. 
    The next month I had to go in again and get blood drawn. When my doctor's office called the nurse asked if I could come in that afternoon, I was fearing the worst. I figured if there was good news, or even the same news, they would have told me over the phone again. I called Caleb and asked him to go with me since I was so nervous.  When my doctor came in to talk with us, he explained that I hadn't ovulated again and that he didn't really understand why. So he ordered more blood tests, just to make sure my thyroid and other glands were working the way they should be. Fortunately, that blood work all came back normal. So I had to take the medicine to force my period to start again and come back three weeks later to get my blood drawn. 
   The first couple months, I had been doing everything I could think of to track ovulation, to encourage ovulation. I read all the articles I could find about ovulation. It clearly hadn't worked. So, for this month, I decided that as hard as it was, I was going to give my burden to God and relax. So, I did. I gave him all my fear that I would never be able to ovulate and have another baby. I gave him all my stress about tracking everything. I gave him all my guilt about feeling like I was letting Caleb and our families down. There were times I would feel the stressful thoughts creeping up on me, but when they would come I would remind myself that "God's got this" and I would be able to relax again. 
   The day of my blood work came around and as good as I had done the rest of the month at trusting, I just couldn't quite relax. If I hadn't ovulated, they wanted to start me on a fertility med that would make me ovulate, and I really didn't want to have to take it.  I needed to be able to get the blood work done in the morning, which meant I needed to take O with me. She was very good. While we were waiting for the nurse to draw my blood, she sat down on the bench next to me and we talked. I explained that a nurse was going to come and poke mommy with a needle and take a little bit of mommy's blood but that it would be okay. We talked for awhile longer when she stops, looks at me and says, "Mama, fine. Mama, fine." while patting my leg. Needless to say, her innocent reassurance that I would be fine was exactly what I needed to help me relax and once again, give my burden to God. 
   That night Caleb came back from putting O down for bed and told me that O had prayed "Mama. Doctor. Needle." This was the first time she had ever prayed for a specific need for an individual and I was humbled that it was me. 
   A couple of days later, I got a call from my doctor's office and was told that I had ovulated on my own. I was so happy. I was relieved that I didn't have to take the fertility med, I was relieved I didn't have to take the medicine to force my period to start, but most of all I was grateful for the unwavering faith of my two year old which helped me get through it. God hears even the smallest of prayers, even ones that aren't prayed in full sentences. 

   Caleb and I have a very sweet, very lovable, very energetic dog named Cooper. Cooper is so high-strung that one of our friends gave him the nickname "Shenanigans", because he always seems to be getting into trouble. One of the ways Cooper likes to get into trouble is by running. There's not a lot that can stop him. He has lived in three different houses (with us, of course) and has found was to escape from all three of them. The current house we live in makes it too easy for Cooper to escape. Our backyard is on a little bit of a slope and the fence in the back corner is subsequently easily jumped over. The way we deal with this is by taking him out on a leash. 

   The other morning, I was getting ready to take our herd of wild dogs outside while trying to coax my lollygagging two year old to come down the hallway and join me in taking the dogs outside. I was so wrapped up in trying to make sure that O was walking down the hall towards me instead of getting into trouble, that I put a leash on a dog without paying much attention to what I was doing. 
 
   Once O finally joined us at the back door, I let the dogs out. Cooper took off like a shot and I quickly realized that I had put the leash on the wrong dog. Cooper finds ways to escape fairly regularly, so we have gotten pretty good at retrieving him. However, most of the time when this happens, Caleb is home and he can go get the dog while I watch O. This time, I was home alone with O. I was still in my pajamas and O was just in a diaper. 

   I knew we had to get ready as quick as possible if we wanted to be able to get Cooper so I quickly dressed O and myself in the first outfits I could find. I grabbed Cooper's leash and a piece of bread to lure him to me when I found him and we headed out the door. 

   In the garage before opening the door, I said a quick prayer. I simply said "God help me get Cooper." I was worried about how chasing Cooper was going to work with O. I'd never had to do it before. I couldn't leave her in the car to get out and get the dog and I was pretty sure that he wouldn't run up and jump in my car, so if we were going to get him back, we were going to need some help. 

   When the garage door opened, I saw Cooper in our neighbor's yard. I called to him and showed him the bread I had brought him. He ran right up to me and I was able to clip the leash on him without ever having to get in the car. I am so grateful for how smoothly it all transpired. I didn't expect to see Cooper out my front door since he escaped from the back. I certainly didn't expect him to run right up to me, despite having bread, and I most definitely did not expect him to not try and evade my grasp once I reached out for his collar. I know that there's no way I could have made that recovery on my own and I thank God for bringing my Cooper home to me safe and sound yet again.