Larsen Kids

Yosemite Highlights in Video

Fri, 18 Nov 2011 17:03:01 GMT

All in all it was an excellent trip! Especially in light of all the driving and it being such a quick trip. The kids loves playing in the water. They even enjoyed the hikes. Evelyn got car sick…but it all turned out to be so fun!

Happy Grandparents Day from the D and E Clan!

Sun, 11 Sep 2011 22:50:15 GMT

Our Three Kids in a Nutshell

Fri, 09 Sep 2011 16:21:58 GMT

I love having 3 kids and I think I’d love having 3 more! Not right this second though…instead, I’m trying to really enjoy the 3 we have! Let me tell you, all 3 are very very special. I love the order they were each given to us. We’ve got Evelyn, our special first-born chosen girl! Then there is Elijah, our boy! And then we have Eliana, our baby. Each of them have such a special place in our family. They are a perfect fit. Biological and hand-picked, however they have come, they are all perfect for our family!

Here we have some Eliana tickle time.

Here we have Eliana’s first concert on her 2nd month birthday, Trace Adkins at the fair!

Here we have Evelyn’s gymnastics class. She’s a natural, and I’m not ashamed of it!

and here we have some sibling snuggles!

School in a Nutshell

Fri, 09 Sep 2011 16:04:04 GMT

Grieving the Loss of a Child

Fri, 22 Jul 2011 23:26:54 GMT

This was really touching. I can relate to the grief that will never go away. With several miscarriages behind me and 3 beautiful children before me now…you never forget, and this is really helpful for the loved ones loving those who are grieving. It is very well written. I did not write it. I couldn't even bring myself to change the name to the name we had picked out for our first child. It would be too difficult for me to post…I still have the ultrasound picture and thought about posting that as well – but I can’t. Even though our babies were considered to be just a “fetus” – to us, they were and are our babies, and I constantly feel as though someone is missing

written by Joy Ganzel
"The death of a baby is like a stone cast into the stillness of a quiet pool; the concentric ripples of despair sweep out in all directions, affecting many, many people." --De Frain, 1991

No one really knows what to say or do--myself included. This "wish list" was passed to me from a friend I just met who lost his beautiful baby a short time ago. The hospital gave this to him and his wife. This is passed on to you with intention that it will give you insight as to what a parent who is grieving the loss of a child could be going through. I have adapted it with Max's name. Thank you all for continuing to support and uplift Alex and I up during our darkest hours. We are thankful for you.
A Bereaved Parents Wish List
- We wish that Max hadn’t died. We wish that we had him back. - We wish you understood that grief changes people. When Max died, a big part of us died with him. We are not the same people that we were before Max died, and we will never be those people again.
We wish that you won’t be afraid to speak Max’s name. He lived and was very important to us. We need to hear that he was important to you also.
We wish you understood how our lives have shattered. We know it is miserable for you to be around us when we’re feeling miserable. Please be as patient with us as we are with you.
When we say we are doing okay, we wish you could understand that we don’t feel okay and that we struggle daily.
If we cry and get emotional when you talk about Max, we wish you knew that it isn’t because you have hurt us. Max’s death is the cause of our tears. You have talked about him, and you have allowed us to share in our grief. We thank you for both.
Being a bereaved parent isn’t contagious, so please don’t shy away from us. We need you now more than ever.
We are working very hard in our recovery, but we wish you could understand that we will never fully recover. We will always miss Max, and we will always grieve that he is dead.
We need diversions, so we do want to hear about you, your family, and your life. But we also want you to hear about us. We might be sad or cry, but please also let us talk about Max.
We know that you think and pray for us often. We also know that Max’s death pains you, too. We wish you would let us know these things through a phone call, a card, a note, an e-mail, a text, or a real big hug.
We wish that you won’t expect our grief to be over in six months. These first months are traumatic for us, but we hope that you understand that our grief will never be over. We will suffer the loss of Max until the day that we die.
We don’t want to have a pity party, but we do wish you would let us grieve. We must hurt before we can heal. - We wish you knew that all of the grief reactions we are having are very normal. Depression, anger, hopelessness and overwhelming sadness are all to be expected. So please excuse us when we are quiet and withdrawn or irritable and cranky.
Your advice to ‘take one day at a time’ is excellent advice. However, sometimes a day is too much and too fast for us right now. We wish that you could understand that sometimes the best way is a minute or an hour at a time.
We hope that if you see us out and about that you say hi. We might be smiling or laughing, joking or having a good time – that’s okay to do. Please don’t think that it’s because we are not appropriately grieving--Max is never off our minds.
Please excuse us if we are rude, it is certainly not our intent. Sometimes the world around us goes by too fast, and we need to get off. When we walk away, please let us find a quiet place to spend some time alone.
We wish very much that you could understand – understand our loss and our grief, our silence and our tears, our void and our pain. But we pray daily that you will never, ever understand.

The Birth Story of Eliana Janae

Wed, 29 Jun 2011 10:27:52 GMT

Eliana Janae Larsen was born June 12, 2011 at 11:16am. She weighed 9lbs 3oz. Only slightly smaller than her brother, Elijah. Everything about my pregnancy with her was different than my pregnancy with Elijah, and her birth was equally different. Both were extremely amazing experiences.

From the beginning of our marriage I’ve had the desire to 1. adopt and 2. have my children using a midwife, and from the beginning I’ve had many people tell me I’m crazy. After all, “why suffer when you don’t need to?” And “what if something happens?!?!?” After much research and now having experienced a natural birth twice I can with confidence say what I have said all along, midwives are trained professionals and have your best interest in mind - as well as their own! It is difficult enough for them to practice their profession this day in age, and trust me when I say they also want the best outcome not only for their patients but also for their practice. I could write a whole blog post about that topic alone, however, I’m not going to do that today. Today I will give some brief details of Eliana’s birth, I say brief because it was quick and I’m going to spare some of the more personal details! I also want to note, that this is just my personal preference and I think each woman should have the right to choose the birth experience she wants, and there is nothing wrong with wanting a less painful delivery in a hospital.

The one thing that was similar to Elijah’s birth was that I had contractions for weeks leading up to the actual birth. This apparently helps “prep” me for quick deliveries. Elijah came quickly also, but this was even faster! This time around I woke up early in the morning. I kinda knew it was coming the night before, but thankfully was able to sleep most of the night. I woke up around 5am with some contractions. They weren’t closer together yet, but they sure were stronger and longer. At around 6:30am on Sunday morning I texted my midwife to give her a heads up…just in case she was thinking about going to church that day . At around 7:00am I knew this was probably it. Especially since Eliana’s due date was the 11th. At 7:00am I told David he better call his mom, as it was a 6 hour drive for her. We also texted our dear church friend, Nina to come watch the kids. The plan was to meet the midwife at the birth center at around 8:00am to check things out. We got there a little after. I wasn’t sure I would be staying because it didn’t “hurt enough” yet. You see, with Elijah, my water broke first, that rarely happens and makes labor super intense…so that’s what I was comparing it to. Even though it didn’t “hurt enough” things were progressing and it was going to happen that day.

It’s a good thing we stayed, because little did we know, Eliana would be here almost exactly 3 hours later! I tell you, the first couple hours were actually quite nice. It was the last hour when things really picked up, and the last half hour that I thought I made a mistake! At first I was getting annoyed that my water wasn’t breaking. I knew that as soon as it did things would “get going”. I had no idea that It could break as the baby is coming. Although I must admit it was nice to have the breaks in between the contractions. I even got to laugh with David, eat, drink, enjoy the bath… (with Elijah, that was not the case – I was in constant pain for nearly 5 hours!). This time I got in the bath, practiced breathing, focused…it was great! This was much easier than I remembered! It was also scary because I didn’t know what to expect. How long would it last? When would my water break? etc…ect… one thing I did know, my midwife was there and she knew how to help me through the whole process. David was also there by my side, rubbing my back and encouraging me. The other 2 midwives showed up when it was looking like “the time”. They were in constant communication. Everyone had such nice things to say to me, even though I was screaming and crying at the top of my lungs – this is when things got crazy.

My water finally broke literally as I began pushing! Now, with Elijah, the pushing part was easy – not so this time! It was the worst pain I have ever felt in my whole life, and I wanted it to end. I remember saying, no - screaming, “get her out, get her out, GET HER OUT!” to which they calmly replied, “Elisha, we can’t do that, you have to push her out.” And everything I learned in the birthing class we took before Elijah’s birth rushed into my mind. All the reasons I wanted to do this in the first place, God created me to do this, I didn’t want intervention, I wanted to feel it and on and on… Up until that point I didn’t have many requests I was just along for the the ride – then it hit me, I couldn’t just be along for the ride here – I actually had to do something…probably the hardest thing I will ever have to do (physically) in my life! So I requested to switch positions, which was also not very easy to do that far into the process. It helped. I ended up standing and leaning on David for support. Leaning is an understatement, David would tell you – I had him in a death grip! Everything truly seemed impossible in those moments and I was in a full on battle with myself. Then all of a sudden as I was praying, I pictured my husband, Elijah, Evelyn and a glimpse of who Eliana would be. I was overwhelmed with how blessed I am because of each of them. I suppose you could say my life flashed before my eyes…but not in the way you picture it when someone says that. Not like overlooking your life in the few moments that might be your last, more like picturing all the things I live for, and the people I was created to care for. I felt completely blessed, strengthened and comforted by God in that moment and at that point I became silent. Silent inside my soul and heart. I stopped screaming and just started pushing, and with everything in me I pushed her out! It was probably only 30 minutes but seemed like an eternity! The silence was even shorter. Those silent moments with God and my thoughts are very dear to my heart and I will never forget them. They too seemed like an eternity. I feel closer to understanding salvation. I am able to better relate to the sacrifice Jesus made on my behalf. I can clearly picture His love for me, as He thought of me, knew me by name, bore my sin and gave His body and His life for me on the cross. I can now relate in a way I never could before. And the 30 minutes I suffered was nothing compared to what He suffered. And the love I have for David and our children is nothing compared to the love He has for His bride and His children! Yet, what a gift He has given women to experience this. A gift He has given me. Incredible! Something I will never forget.

Eliana arrived safely. No complications with her – enter the slightly traumatic part of the story - I wasn’t afraid at all, neither was David. Maybe we were naïve to the situation, but we also really trusted God and the midwives we chose. With Elijah, the cord was around his neck and our wonderful midwives handled it very well. They didn’t panic, and they didn’t alarm us to panic. They handled the situation professionally and all was well. They knew exactly what they were doing and what they were and were not comfortable with and what to do in that situation. The same happened here. We chose them because we trust them and because we know they are conservative when it comes to safety. They are also very experienced. OK, so there is my shout out to the Ventura Birth Center, Sue Turner, Dawn Dana and Davie!

So what happened? Well, minus some of the other personal details, I began to hemorrhage and my placenta did not detach right away. Both are alarming situations that everyone is afraid of when you use a midwife, and reason for transport to the hospital. Well, it happened. I lost a lot of blood. It all happened so fast and the midwives knew exactly what to do. In fact, they called 911 and the responders were there within minutes. Exactly 15 minutes after the birth actually, and by that time everything was under control. In fact, the midwives knew more about how to handle the situation, what is normal, etc… than the responders. Not entirely surprising seeing as the midwives handle pregnancy and delivery nearly every day. The bleeding stopped (thanks to some drugs), I was hooked up to an IV for fluids and my placenta was coming out all within 20 minutes after the birth. Thankfully, I didn’t need to be transported! I did appreciate the conservative approach of the midwives, and felt comfortable with how everything played out. Davie even went out and got me a smoothie! I know that seems small, but at the time…it was wonderful!

Due to losing so much blood, the recovery was difficult. I was really sore and somewhat a zombie the first week, but I had lots of wonderful help from David and his momma. And I admit, I swore I’d never do it again. On Sunday, I said “we are done having kids, we’ll adopt the rest”, on Monday I said, “OK but only with drugs”, but by Wednesday I knew I would do it again, but be better prepared. By the second week I was feeling like myself again. My midwife came to check on me, she brought me some delicious bread and juice. Took my blood for some testing and told me to call or text with any concerns. She even called the next couple of days to make sure I was OK. And she came to me, I was able to sleep in my own bed and be around all the people I love. What a blessing after something like that! She also explained what happened. Basically my placenta only partially detached which caused me not to contract but to hemorrhage. So there you have it. Eliana’s story – at least the beginning of it. End the slightly traumatic part -

And enter the beautiful baby!

Here is the announcement made at our church upon her arrival – I found it sweet enough to share with the world!

“Eliana Janae Larsen Announcement

Naming newborns is not easy for some. Many parents labor to deliver a bouncing baby name in the back-and-forth, how-abouting shuttle from the short list, pronouncing each out loud to hear the ring and rhythm of syllable and sound, crossing off the no names with frowning pen strokes.

Not so for the Larsens: it is easy for them. In fact, Dave and Elisha do all their naming with the greatest of E’s. E is for Evelyn. E is for Elijah. And E is for their newest newborn; for minding their P’s and Q’s and keeping it as easy as A, B, C they have made it easy on themselves and us by naming her Eliana Janae, born June 12, 2011, weighing 9 pounds 3 ounces.

“My God has answered me.” That is what Eliana means. God has indeed answered us; and it was easy for Him; because nothing is too difficult for Him. Plus, He is committed to doing us good in Christ. May He answer our prayers for Eliana’s salvation.”

Videos of the Kids Welcoming Eliana Home

Mon, 20 Jun 2011 18:15:25 GMT

I’ll write the whole story…sometime…soon. For now, here are the videos!

Birthday Weekend in Video and Photo

Tue, 07 Jun 2011 22:08:16 GMT

sorry. No time or energy to write much, but the videos and pictures say a lot for themselves

Today was one of “those days”. Stomach flu, contractions, crying, spilled cheerios…there is no better day to look back on a wonderful weekend! Enjoy!

Our Kids are Growing up on us!

Wed, 25 May 2011 16:48:43 GMT

The Lights of Glory

Sat, 26 Mar 2011 12:19:57 GMT

This morning’s devotion taken from I Come Quietly to Meet You, by Amy Carmichael and David Hazard.

[Says the Lord Almighty:] “But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings.”
MALACHI 4:2

“In the room where I am convalescing, a net curtain hangs over a door opposite to which my bed is set. In this hot weather, the door is usually open. The foot of my bed hides the lower portion of this curtain, but I can clearly see the upper part, and on a day when there is not much light on the other side, every fold in the curtain shows. But when the sun is shining on the trees outside, I can hardly see the net. It is there, but I can hardly see if for the glory of that light.

This small thing has continually been my “word” and my “vision”.

The material, temporal, solid details of the physical limitations I have thought of as iron fetters remain. There is no removing or evading them. And my old way – of ignoring, or stepping over minor physical problems – is impossible now. My ability to accept what is happening to me hinges on this: I am cutely aware that there is another world, nearer than the physical world. Things temporal and solid here, are transparent in that air. Only there can one’s spirit breathe and be strong.

Just recently a letter came from Switzerland, from a woman who had heard, apparently from a mutual friend to whom I’d written, about my curtain and its message to me. This woman wrote:

“”My father was a manufacturer, and once he gave me lengths of black and white net. When my husband became a minister in a rural village, we had to protect ourselves against mosquitoes, so we put the white net on frames that fit over our windows. The result seemed excellent to us. When the light outside was poor, there was still only a dim haze between us and the outside – and on brighter days even this was lost.

But in time, the white nets wore out. To our regret, we had only the black net to replace it. We could see through the black net clearly in every kind of light, so that we often hit our heads against it when we wanted to look out of the window, because we’d forgotten it altogether.

That said to us: In the night the stars shine. And beyond the cross, the love of God shines. And all of our earthly sadness can be lost too, if we hold it up before the light of Jesus.””

…To all the children of the Father of Lights, however shadowed life may be, there is now, and there will be, the Light that changes all things, and “makes all things new”(Revelation 21:5).

And a light shined in the cell,
and there was not any wall,
and there was no dark at all!
Only you, Emmanuel.
Light of Love shine in the cell,
turned to gold the iron bars,
opened windows to the stars.
Peace stood there sentinel.
Dearest Lord, how can it be
that you are so kind to me?
Love is shining in my cell -
Jesus, my Emmanuel.

ROSE FROM BRIER: P.6

Devotion: MY FATHER, I CONFESS…sometimes I let myself become nothing more than a grumble in the darkness…But not today, Father! Today, I await your “opened window to the stars.” I wait upon you, expecting that this day the Sun of Righteousness will rise with healing within me…”