<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505</id><updated>2009-12-06T13:53:24.584-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Story of Sprout</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default?orderby=updated'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-4803014815168436537</id><published>2009-12-04T07:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T13:49:55.625-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Year Later!</title><content type='html'>I cannot believe it's been almost a year since I worked on this site.  My apologies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I get started,  I wanted to lift up our friend, Joseph, whose parents are Scott and Laura Martin.  Their story can be read at babyandbabymartin.blogspot.com . He and his brother, Campbell were 3 months premature.  Campbell has since passed and is growing, literally, in Jesus' arms and in the arms of his family in Heaven!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our little bean sprout is 2 now!   She was awake and rolling around yesterday aroun 6 a.m.  After going into her room and encouraging her to go back to sleep I said "Happy Birthday".  To which she squirmed a little, with her face in her pillow and said "... cake.... ikee " which means ice cream!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll write more and post more pictures when I'm not at work :)  Just wanted to put a few words down in case anyone's reading :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK!  Hannah's party was an absolute blast.  She was an early riser that day so we feared that she might be tired by the time the party was underway, but she did just great!  Luke and Noah Johnson, and  George Loehr were Hannah's friends in attendance.  Sarah, my older daughter, was there helping, herding and partying as well.  We had streamers, balloons, dancing, cake and ice cream. . . the whole thing!  I don't have the party pictures on this  computer, so those will have to wait.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;more later&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-4803014815168436537?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/4803014815168436537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=4803014815168436537' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/4803014815168436537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/4803014815168436537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2009/12/year-later.html' title='A Year Later!'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-2224353711326008380</id><published>2008-12-31T08:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T08:47:52.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Since we last posted. . .</title><content type='html'>So since we last posted, Hannah has turned 1, is tap dancing and can say "Daddy, would you take me to the park so that we can swing and slide? . . . . . &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pleeeeeease&lt;/span&gt;?".&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, not really!  But seriously, all kinds of things are happening.  She DID turn 1.  And what a fun time we had turning one.  She got to where she would hold up her "1" finger when we asked how old she was.  She smiled and sometimes laughed when we sang Happy Birthday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She got a swing, a set of bells, a musical drum and a ball this season.  She loves them all!  Swinging is quite a spectacular thing, she says.  She seems to respond naturally to musical things like drums and bells, oh, and Sarah's guitar and djembe (African Drum).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is using sign language for  "please", "Light on", "light off" and "that "or "you" (translation: pointing at something).  She points to which food she wants at mealtime now.  She points to whatever it is she wants then signs "please", and, of course, she gets it!  For instance, she now knows what a fire and a fireplace is and loves it.  So one Sunday afternoon around 3:30 Hannah and I (Brad) are playing in the floor in the den.  She points to the fireplace and signs "please". . . .so we had a fire that Sunday afternoon at 3:30!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is standing with the help of a prop.  She is quite verbal and expressive.  Most mornings we hear her in her crib chatting with her toys and stuffed animals.  She still does lip trills and monster noises.  She is VERY social in the store.  She must wave and get a response from everyone she sees, even those people who are uncomfortable around babies.  She'll lean over and wave even more for them!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our friends Bob and Libby, who are letting us borrow most of the things we have for her, let us borrow a little lion that is designed to walk behind or ride on.  Sharon attached a rope to it and pulls Hannah around the house with it.  She LOVES that !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She can now eat banana &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;unmashed&lt;/span&gt; and loves it.  She tries to bite of half of the banana at one time, so I have to put my finger on the banana at a certain point so that she doesn't, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;literally&lt;/span&gt; bite off more than she can chew!  This morning she ate raisin toast and some of Mommy's eggs.  At our friend Cris' house the other day, she ate some of Cris' chicken croissant dish, green beans and macaroni and cheese.  With mommy the other day she had baked potato soup.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She points appropriately to her head during 5 Little Monkeys, 'bumped his head'.  She also is doing the motions to "Head Shoulders, Knees and Toes".  She gets head, knees, toes, eyes, ears, mouth and nose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's still way too cute for words.  We wish you could all be along side us to witness her life and growth and cuteness!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-2224353711326008380?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/2224353711326008380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=2224353711326008380' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/2224353711326008380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/2224353711326008380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2008/12/since-we-last-posted.html' title='Since we last posted. . .'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-5115963267747956140</id><published>2008-10-21T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T07:39:26.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hannah is 10.5 months old now. We're in the stage when she is doing something new every day. She babbles up a storm &amp;amp; it seems 'Da' is her first word...for Daddy of course! Although 'NnGg' is a close second for our dog, Nugget. She's picking up on more than I realize. Just yesterday I said 'I hear Nugget outside.'  She turned around in her exer-saucer &amp;amp; pointed to the back door.&lt;div&gt;She gets excited when I say 'outside' - she loves it! She loves the trees, leaves, breeze. She can identify more &amp;amp; more things in her books &amp;amp; toys. It really amazes me what they learn so quickly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And Elmo is still one of her favorites!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We spend our day on at least one, usually two, good strolls, playing in the floor with stuffed animals and toys, playing in her exer-saucer (where she sits in the middle &amp;amp; turns herself around to play with toys), &amp;amp; reading (she loves books). My mom had kept my favorite books from when I was a baby &amp;amp; toddler, and what do you know, those are Hannah's favorites as well!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is a great eater but still no teeth. We're slowly introducing more table food but it has to go through the food processor a good fork mashing.  She does not like foods with texture &amp;amp; spits out even the baby snacks that melt in their mouths. Funny though, she'll put anything else in her mouth!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; She's finally wearing her 9 mo clothing - so she's 'catching up'! Ha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is starting to show signs of pulling up on things (with our help) and can stand with our assistance.  She's still not fond of tummy time but has gotten better &amp;amp; rolls herself around in her crib. Actually, you'll leave her in one place only to come back &amp;amp; find that she's rolled herself around to be upside down &amp;amp; on the other end of the crib from where you left her. I don't think she's going to be a crawler though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's happy, happy, happy! Thanks for checking in!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-5115963267747956140?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/5115963267747956140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=5115963267747956140' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/5115963267747956140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/5115963267747956140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2008/10/hannah-is-10.html' title=''/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-3370394595863026273</id><published>2008-08-19T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T14:02:39.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Panda</title><content type='html'>Did we mention we call her Hannah Panda?  Well, when she was little. . . and Sharon would put her on her shoulder, she (Hannah) would curl up and kinda resemble a little panda bear, at least, in out little minds she did. . .&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyhow!  As I type she is in her 8th month.  It's still a wonder that anyone gets anything done around here.  Not that she requires so much of our time, but she's just so incredibly adorable!  We just sit there and babble with her and stare at her.  You never know what she's going to do next that could be the cutest thing EVER!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's beginning to sit up on her own.  She's not getting up by herself, but once she's there she can stay up for quite a while.  She thinks it's grand.  She's now definitely waving hello and goodbye.  A week ago it was more like an arm flap, but now she's got her wrist involved! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is in bed at night usually around 8:30 or 9:00 and stays down until 7:30a.m.  Sometimes she calls and asks for a diaper change anywhere from 6a.m. to 7:30a.m.  And there have been these blessed events where, after she gets a diaper change around 7:30a.m., she goes back down till 9 and sometimes 10!!  Sharon loves that.  And I, well, I go off to work.  I have several Hannah pictures at work to remind me of her unfathomable cuteness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, 8-19, she rode in her grocery cart/high chair cover at Kroger.  She was thrilled with a new vantage point of all the groceries and shoppers.  And did I mention that she was cute?  Folks, it really is remarkable!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-3370394595863026273?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/3370394595863026273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=3370394595863026273' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/3370394595863026273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/3370394595863026273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2008/08/panda.html' title='The Panda'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-6862977082087466169</id><published>2008-08-05T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T20:19:19.335-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom&apos;s picture'/><title type='text'>Hannah's Cross-Stitch by Grandmother</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Marker Felt'; font-size: 14px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I just hung a beautiful cross-stitched birth announcement in Hannah Noel's room. The story is equally as beautiful... As some of you know, mom was working on Hannah's cross-stitched birth announcement on her death bed. She had done the baby feet portion and Hannah's name. I picked it up about four weeks before she passed away. I did the 'D, e, and c' in December for her birth date. Mom looked at it, didn't like the way I had done the 'D' (admittedly, it was wrong),  and she asked for her glasses, sat up on the side of the bed, and with Brad, Hannah and I watching, she took out my 'D,E and C' and did them over. Needless to say, the 'D' was correct this time!  She got about half-way through the 'c' and became sick and had to lay back down. She never fully sat up again like that on her own to do anything. About a week before mom's death, Hospice was asking if there was anything that was incomplete that mom would want finished.  I pointed to Hannah's cross-stitch laying on mom's dresser. On Thursday, March 6, I picked up the cross-stitch, sat by mom's hospital bed in her bedroom and told her what I was doing. I walked her through every stitch I was making.  "mom, I'm finishing the 'c' in December."  "mom, I'm putting the '3' in for Hannah's birth date." etc.  While I was talking, Mom's right hand slowly went up and down to show me that SHE was cross-stitching.  So she DID finish Hannah's piece! That was on Thursday. As you know, mom passed away the following Tuesday. I have just gotten the picture matted &amp;amp; framed. It hangs in Hannah's room and she LOVES it.  She really does reach out for it, touch it, smile at it. It's wonderful.  Thanks mom!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-6862977082087466169?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/6862977082087466169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=6862977082087466169' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/6862977082087466169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/6862977082087466169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2008/08/hannahs-cross-stitch-by-grandmother.html' title='Hannah&apos;s Cross-Stitch by Grandmother'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-1529197481402933980</id><published>2008-07-13T15:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T15:40:15.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah, she's still cute!</title><content type='html'>Actually, she's quite gorgeous!  At 7 months old, Hannah is as social and expressive as can be.  She's not quite sitting up on her own as the high chair picture might suggest.  But she's still darn cute.  In fact, I think I hear little miss cute upstairs right now asking for some dinner, so here I go!  Thanks for checking in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-1529197481402933980?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/1529197481402933980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=1529197481402933980' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/1529197481402933980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/1529197481402933980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2008/07/yeah-shes-still-cute.html' title='Yeah, she&apos;s still cute!'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-1830264483725936084</id><published>2008-06-03T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T12:25:31.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's June</title><content type='html'>Sorry so long since I posted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been saying that by June things would begin to return to 'normal'.   Well, it's getting there.  Sharon and hannah have been home a solid 2 weeks now and Daddy loves it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures can't show just how beautiful and adorable Hannah is.  It's strange to think about actually getting something done around the house because sitting and making faces and jabbering and playing with Hannah if far too much fun to do anything ELSE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today marks her 6th month birthday.  Sharon sang Happy Birthday this morning when she awoke (the 2nd time).  She seemed to think that was cool.  She is 13.5lbs. and 23 inches long.  She is rolling 3/4 of the way onto her tummy . . . so, I guess that wouldn't be her tummy,  huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She makes dinasour sounds.  She fakes burping when Daddy is feeding her.  I guess she thinks that's just what Daddy does!  She loves having the ABCs sung and signed to her.  Head Shoulders Knees and Toes is another favorite. Since she was about 2 months old Sharon has been reading 5 Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed.  She gets areal kick out of it and generally won't go to bed without having heard it once or twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more day of Post Planning for Daddy and he's home for the summer!  Sarah is Sewing, Camp Highlanding, Amtraking and Cheerleading all summer long.  When she's not too busy, Daddy will take her to the pool!  Mommy's still trying to figure out what to do with all the new stuff in our house since the squaring away of her mother's estate (while caring for a  6 month old and 36 year old!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for cheking in!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-1830264483725936084?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/1830264483725936084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=1830264483725936084' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/1830264483725936084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/1830264483725936084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2008/06/its-june.html' title='It&apos;s June'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-7018414257576815410</id><published>2008-03-24T15:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T16:06:31.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a great time!</title><content type='html'>Man, I love those girls!  Sharon and Hannah got to come home last weekend. . . and got to stay the week!  I still had to go to work, but, man!  what a difference having those people around is!  I mean that in a good way :)  This weekend Sarah got to see her sister again and had a wonderful time feeding her, carrying her, playing with her. . . being a sister!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God has seasons for everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been bitter lately about some things God has chosen to act differently upon; Mimi for instance.  (I don't really know if a semicolon goes there, but I know you read it with the appropriate inflection)  Turns out, though, I'm not all that different than Jesus in terms of my prayer requests.  Jesus asked His loving, all-knowing Heavenly Father, "Let this cup pass!" And God said. . .well, you know the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a drought.  It rained.  I had stress at work.  It lifted.  I missed my wife and daughter for 6 weeks.  They came home.  Be faithful.  Sit back and live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hannah is smiling regularly (when she sees her father!),  Laughing occasionally (much more so with her father), trying her darndest to sit up, sitting in the Boppy our friends Bob and Libby let us borrow, kicking and kicking and kicking, turning her head to and for and to, and being ever so expressive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have gone back to Chattanooga to square away things. . . but they'll be back :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-7018414257576815410?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/7018414257576815410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=7018414257576815410' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/7018414257576815410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/7018414257576815410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2008/03/what-great-time.html' title='What a great time!'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-1565054201266711898</id><published>2008-03-11T19:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T19:51:25.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MiMi</title><content type='html'>Part of Hannah's story is the amount of drive that she gave her grandmother, Marilyn Holcomb, Sharon's mom.  Mrs Holcomb was diagnosed with a rare cancer of the Peritoneam (sp?).  She outlived the standard life expectancy of Peritoneal Cancer patients by double - all because she wanted to see, hold, love and enjoy Hannah.  MiMi completed her journey today at 12:00p.m.  It's funny because she had chiming mantle clocks in her house.  That's not the funny part.  The one in her bedroom has recently gotten hung up every 10, 11 and 12 o'clock hours.  On those hours it would ringing seemingly incessantly.  Actually it would ring about 15-20 times.  Mrs Holcomb took her last breath right before the 12 o'clock chiming.  We were right there with her watching to see if she was going to take another breath as the clock started.  Well. . . we listened and watched as that clock started doing it's thing.  But just as we noticed that it had rung it's annoying 20 times, it kept going. . . and going. . . and going.  We all (me, Sharon and Shirley Bunn) started cracking up through our tears.  I'll be danged if MiMi's spirit wasn't over there ringing that bell announcing her full and total arrival in Heaven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-1565054201266711898?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/1565054201266711898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=1565054201266711898' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/1565054201266711898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/1565054201266711898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2008/03/mimi.html' title='MiMi'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-6804730628907626732</id><published>2008-03-03T14:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T14:46:45.615-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So, how's the baby? :)</title><content type='html'>Everyone's so nice to ask.  To which I say, "uhuhuh" (grunted version of "I don't know).  Sharon and Hannah are in Chattanooga full time now.  I've seen them 8 days in the last month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Mrs Holcomb's friends have risen to the occasion to be there, helping Sharon in ways that are immeasurable.  My mom and dad are up there for their 2nd week helping out.  Of course, Hannah is in paradise with Nanny and PaPa there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Holcomb is very slowly declining.  Sharon is doing an amazing job.  Pray for 'Godspeed.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-6804730628907626732?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/6804730628907626732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=6804730628907626732' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/6804730628907626732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/6804730628907626732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2008/03/so-hows-baby.html' title='So, how&apos;s the baby? :)'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-6842235553426531785</id><published>2008-02-09T16:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T16:40:21.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Current</title><content type='html'>I know it's been a long time since my last post, but it's been as crazy as one would think with a new-born around. These days, though, Hannah is smiling cooing and being generally baby-cute! She and Sharon have been burning up the road in between home and Chattanooga to take care of her mom. Marylin now needs care 24/7. Yes, you all can pray us through this time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-6842235553426531785?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/6842235553426531785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=6842235553426531785' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/6842235553426531785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/6842235553426531785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2008/02/current.html' title='Current'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-5976071283557920545</id><published>2007-12-15T09:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-15T09:56:54.655-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All's Well</title><content type='html'>Everything is going as it should be.  Sleep at night is sufficient, say, 3 or 4 hours.  Healthy eating, pooping, crying and times of contentment is a part of every day.  Sharon is a FABULOUS mother.  Sarah is an ideal sister.  I'm doin' alright, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the point in blogging when I don't know what to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us know if you have questions. . . that might prompt me with things to say!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-5976071283557920545?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/5976071283557920545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=5976071283557920545' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/5976071283557920545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/5976071283557920545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2007/12/alls-well.html' title='All&apos;s Well'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-7226419779942376370</id><published>2007-12-08T12:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T13:07:12.611-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitter Sweet</title><content type='html'>As I typed the last entry, we were waiting on Dr. Robbins to take care of an emergency plus a scheduled surgery.  She finally came in around 3:00p.m.  Sharon asked her, "how'd surgery go?"  You know, a pretty gereral doctor-type of question.  She said "not so good," which is cerainly something you DON'T expect the doctor to say.  "Some days just stink."  Turns out, going in to remove a cyst from a 24  year old single east indian girl, Dr. Robbins found advance staged ovarian cancer.  One that is not detected through normal ovarian cancer tests.  I forget the medical term she used for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is this girl's 25th birthday.  She is weighing heavily on our hearts.  Do pray for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of that news, we are home.  We are safe, healthy. . . perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sharon is further on the mend.  She made it up the stairs last night.  Today, Saturday, she has spent her time sleeping, nursing, nursing again  and she even organized and sorted for about 30 minutes.  She then said, "ok that was my little outing for the day."  So, she's been a good patient!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hannah has been sleeping and nursing, being cute by making all those adorable sounds that infants make and then either sleeping or nursing some more.  Did I mention the burping and other peripheral bodily functions she is displaying?  Well, there is no need for another new parent blog that talks about that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-7226419779942376370?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/7226419779942376370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=7226419779942376370' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/7226419779942376370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/7226419779942376370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2007/12/bitter-sweet.html' title='Bitter Sweet'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-794577216325635573</id><published>2007-12-03T15:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T07:19:29.929-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And the Story Continues</title><content type='html'>This morning at 5:00a.m. the alarm clock sounded. I had actually slept! Sharon had been awake for the previous 5 hours. Nanny, Papa, Mimi and Sarah were scattered throughout the house in their various sleeping spots. After we all, except for Sharon, had a big breakfast casserole and some stout coffee ( Sarah had hot chocolate!), we left the house at 6:41a.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to the hospital on time and within 10 minutes Sharon and Brad were being escorted to the Post Anesthesia Care Unit (PACU). It was all relatively nerve wracking! At 8:50, they wheeled Sharon into the OR. First step was the spinal anesthesia. The doctor let me be in the room for this procedure (which most anesthesiologist do not do). Dr Robbins, Sharon's ObGyn, was there by this time. She held Sharon's head in her arms as the anesth-ist treated her spinal column. This was huge to Sharon and I. It was pretty traumatic, but it was over in a few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 'birth' took about 5 minutes or less. Dr. Robbins said from behind the sheet that blocked our delicate eyes from the surgury, "Dad, you better get your camera!" She held up our baby over the top of the sheet. I said to Sharon "Look at little Hannah Noel!".  At first Sharon thought I was kidding. I've been teasing her for months about the sex of the baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hannah Noel is a gift from our Lord. We praise Him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You GOTTA meet this baby!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-794577216325635573?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/794577216325635573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=794577216325635573' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/794577216325635573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/794577216325635573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2007/12/and-story-continues.html' title='And the Story Continues'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-1783522278539463080</id><published>2007-12-07T07:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T07:14:24.049-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Goin' Home. . .</title><content type='html'>Hannah doesn't really care for that song, as it is overplayed. But still, word on the floor is, we're going home today. Dr Robbins is due to come by ANY moment to start us on a speedy discharge. right. Mommy and baby are fabulous. Mommy's a little sore here and there, but anxious to get home and live a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many many thanks to our parents who have been here for us this week! I'll post more once we do actually get home and squared away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please come visit 1) if you're not sick and 2) if you call ahead of time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-1783522278539463080?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/1783522278539463080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=1783522278539463080' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/1783522278539463080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/1783522278539463080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2007/12/im-goin-home.html' title='I&apos;m Goin&apos; Home. . .'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-9024801858553981487</id><published>2007-12-06T08:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T09:07:24.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Three</title><content type='html'>Has anyone started singing Christmas songs with our baby in mind?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today she is 3 days old.  It has been an amazing 3 days.  The first night was suppose to be the 'recovery sleep' period.  But, if you don't know it, our family is just a little different.  We can't just have things happen the way they're SUPPOSE to.  Hannah was awake most of that first 24 hour period.  The next night, we were graced with 6 hours straight of sleep. . . for all of us.  Sharon woke in a panic because little one had not awoken yet.  But was just fine.  Let's see.  I think I've changed about 38 diapers in these three days!  Wonderful, nasty, sticky, all sorts of inappropriate verbage, diapers (Brad typing, BTW)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will find out this afternoon (Thursday) whether Sharon will be discharged tonight or tomorrow.  Hannah has already been released.  So, if y'all see her wandering down Holly Street, would you give us a call?  jk.  The pediatrition signed orders that release her when we are all ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You all rock!  Thanks for your support.  Bob, Libby, George, Scott, Laura, Sharon, Susan, Thank you so much for your visit!  Hannah enjoyed meeting you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-9024801858553981487?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/9024801858553981487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=9024801858553981487' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/9024801858553981487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/9024801858553981487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2007/12/three.html' title='Three'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-3527631001698269742</id><published>2007-11-28T09:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T09:33:23.232-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>Sharon says she doesn't think the baby will wait that long. . . so who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the C-section has been rescheduled for 9 a.m. on the 3rd as opposed to 5 p.m. Y'all come on down!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-3527631001698269742?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/3527631001698269742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=3527631001698269742' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/3527631001698269742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/3527631001698269742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2007/11/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-8932088034739461158</id><published>2007-11-18T14:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T14:25:07.879-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How 'Bout a Baby?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;We're goin' in!  No, not NOW!!  But Sharon is scheduled for a C-Section on Monday December 3rd at 5:00p.m.!!!!  Email if you're coming to join the party!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday to us!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-8932088034739461158?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/8932088034739461158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=8932088034739461158' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/8932088034739461158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/8932088034739461158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2007/11/how-bout-baby.html' title='How &apos;Bout a Baby?!'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-985467368221727406</id><published>2007-10-14T18:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T18:35:41.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pregnancy</title><content type='html'>As I write, I’m 31.5 weeks pregnant. We’ve had many an ultrasound since and I’ve gone to a specialist twice to monitor the baby and my uterus.  The specialist believes he’s discovered one band (adhesion) at the top of my uterus left over from the scarring of Asherman’s Syndrome. His only true concern is that this could change the shape of my uterus and I could go into early labor. But at the last visit, he had no other concerns as the adhesion seems to be out of the way of the baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The baby’s heartbeat has always been strong &amp;amp; measurements on all accounts (me &amp;amp; the baby) have been good. My petite stature &amp;amp; short waistline have added some difficulty (as my doctor made it clear from the beginning it would) to mobility, energy, how I feel generally &amp;amp; the typical pregnancy challenges. Brad has been amazing &amp;amp; has put up with a lot more than husband’s (soon-to-be-fathers) should have to bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can read any pregnancy guide &amp;amp; discover the exceptional list of ‘what to expect’ when pregnant. I think I’ve met all the requirements: I experienced 24/7 ‘morning’ sickness from around week 5 to 16. At week 16 I was extraordinarily sick with a viral infection that turned into a bacterial infection. I’ve been generally tired (ok, worn out!) and sore for most of the pregnancy. I’ve struggled against several sleepless nights, restless leg syndrome, generous heartburn, stuffiness, swollen-everything, oh, and the baby using my belly to practice their athletic abilities. Or knowing mommy &amp;amp; daddy’s LACK of athletic abilities, maybe he/she’s just discovering their arms and legs and begging mommy for more room in there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brad and my mother know what sex the baby is as they wanted to know. I do NOT want to know &amp;amp; look forward at delivery to be greeted by him or her! We have chosen names, but Brad &amp;amp; I are keeping those between us until our Miracle Baby arrives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ve been given two wonderful baby showers. We’re overwhelmed with our friends, co-workers &amp;amp; even acquaintances and neighbor’s generosity!! I want to thank Cris, Gina, Susan and my mom for throwing me the baby shower of a lifetime! You all are amazing, thoughtful, true servants and Cris – you’re creative beyond belief! I want to thank recent new mommies in my life as well: Allison, Brooke, Gina, Libby and Susan for your continuous words of wisdom &amp;amp; support. It DOES take a village!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to thank Brad, my husband of 5.5 years, for sharing in all of this with me; burdening as much as he can for me &amp;amp; letting me feel his support &amp;amp; love even in the middle of my ‘full with pregnancy’ state. I’ve been ‘nesting’ for some time now &amp;amp; I’m still on a tare around the house to nest until my water breaks. Husbands everywhere should be forewarned about this side-effect to pregnancy. Just let us nest (&amp;amp; nest along with us as we ask – ok – demand), knowing that we’ll soon be so tired from 2 hour feedings that we’ll be too exhausted to ask for anything except sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-985467368221727406?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/985467368221727406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=985467368221727406' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/985467368221727406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/985467368221727406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2007/10/pregnancy.html' title='Pregnancy'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-2681220299176597599</id><published>2007-10-14T18:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T18:35:02.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Worship Service</title><content type='html'>Brad and I went to my new Doctor the next day. She took notes on our story &amp;amp; my diagnosis with Asherman’s, handing her copies of the report as well. We were ourselves in that we included statements about our God, our Creator and our trust in Him throughout the story. She would smile as she wrote, finally looking up &amp;amp; saying ‘what is it you do for a living?’ I was telling her I worked at North Point Community Church in Alpharetta when she interrupted with ‘that’s my church!’ We suddenly had a lot in common. The most significant being an understanding that God is our Creator and what it means to have a relationship with Him. After answering several questions related to the ‘signs &amp;amp; symptoms’ she proceeded with a pelvic ultrasound. She said ‘I’m sorry…’ We were frozen. Nothing. My bladder was too full to see anything. Emptied my bladder. Tried again. Nothing. Our hearts were dropping. She had us go down the hall to the 3D-4D ultrasound room. I remember feeling very cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My doctor introduced me to the ultrasound tech, “I’d like you to meet Ms. Asherman and we think she’s pregnant.” The technician froze &amp;amp; questioned ‘Really?’&lt;br /&gt;“Yes. We’d like to take a look.” the doctor responded.&lt;br /&gt;I lay on the table, breathing with effort &amp;amp; said, “I’m sorry, let me just get comfortable.” At that moment Brad witnessed my doctor throw her arms and hands way up in the air &amp;amp; worship. Brad was leaning down to whisper to me that the doctor just threw her hands in the air when the ultrasound technician said “Momma, it’s a lot more fun if you’ll look at the screen.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned to see our little Sprout waving at us! Greeting us with all the energy he/she could muster. All nine weeks of him/her: the head, the body, arm buds, leg buds. We all cried, rejoiced, hollered. It’s hard to say who was the most excited but I will say that we all worshiped &amp;amp; rejoiced and we didn’t care who heard us. It was beautiful! The technician had to ask me (eventually) to be as still as possible as my crying/rejoicing was bouncing my healthy uterus all over the screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The technician looked hard for adhesions, any sign of an obliterated uterus. Nothing. It looked normal. It was healed. All looked well &amp;amp; our nine-week old baby was happy to be discovered! And we worshiped!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-2681220299176597599?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/2681220299176597599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=2681220299176597599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/2681220299176597599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/2681220299176597599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2007/10/worship-service.html' title='Worship Service'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-7778487281485705322</id><published>2007-10-14T18:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T18:28:26.252-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Signs and Symptoms</title><content type='html'>The first week of April 2007, Brad &amp;amp; I took my mom to Sarasota, FL on a family vacation. It was just what the doctor ordered for her…&amp;amp; for me. About 3-4 days into the vacation, Brad looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and said “You’re pregnant.”&lt;br /&gt;“I am not! I can’t be pregnant.” I laughed back at him. 22 Days were up though. I knew something was different.  My mother and I were actually involved in a parasailing accident that week. Don’t think that the Spirit doesn’t talk to us anymore, because as I crashed into the ocean my last thought was ‘and I’m pregnant!’ fearing miscarriage.  Brad stood on the boat watching in horror as mom, a cancer patient, and his wife went plunging into the ocean only to be dragged under water for several feet. Brad’s thought, ‘she will surely miscarry.’ Praise God we both survived the accident.  No sign of miscarriage but we hadn’t taken a pregnancy test either. I’m not sure when exactly I felt this on that vacation, but sometime that week I felt strongly that I was carrying a boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By two or three weeks later I had several signs of pregnancy (having already noticed some in Florida). The significant addition to my symptoms was ‘morning sickness’. Such a misnomer ! I was nauseated morning, day, afternoon, evening, night, middle-of-the-night &amp;amp; still not taking a pregnancy test. I was polling my co-workers &amp;amp; friends for a good Ob/Gyn as I had changed insurance with a new job just a few months prior. I called two of the recommended doctor’s office and one set up an appointment for me immediately. I took a pregnancy test the night before my doctor’s visit as we had still not ‘confirmed’ all the signs. It was positive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-7778487281485705322?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/7778487281485705322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=7778487281485705322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/7778487281485705322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/7778487281485705322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2007/10/signs-and-symptoms.html' title='Signs and Symptoms'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-1714225421795473331</id><published>2007-10-14T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T18:25:19.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Healing?</title><content type='html'>Nine months after the surgery (ironic, I know!), I had my annual visit with my Ob/Gyn. They ran the regular test on me, with a few extra thrown in considering my now history &amp;amp; my family history of female-related cancers. One of the Dr’s nurses called me two days after my pelvic ultra-sound to read the report to me.  Basically everything is normal and ‘your endometrium wall is of normal thickness’.  She kept reading but I stopped listening at that statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Wait, go back &amp;amp; read that sentence about my endometrium please.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“your endometrium wall is of normal thickness.” (she included the actual measurement here as well)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Um…” afraid I was going to embarrass her, “this can’t be my report. I don’t have any endometrium. I was diagnosed with Asherman’s Syndrome last December” (the worst case that surgeon had ever seen) “and my endometrium is destroyed and my uterus obliterated. And I know I don’t have any endometrium because I don’t shed it every month (have a period) and haven’t since my miscarriage.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Mrs. Ellis, are you trying to get pregnant? Because if you are, according to this report, you should be able to. Your uterus seems fine and your endometrium is normal.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I can’t say we’re trying to get pregnant because we were told we couldn’t. Impossible actually. We’re just letting God be God.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called my dear friend Susan as Brad was at work. Susan squealed! (To anyone who knows her, you know this is one of the beautiful qualities of her – she is truly and passionately joyful.) “You’re healed! You’re healed! Praise Jesus!” Susan exclaimed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That can’t be though. I mean, I have no ‘proof’ (a period) that I have any endometrium from month to month.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One week to the day of the nurse’s phone call, I had a normal period. The first in a year-and-a-half. I was stunned. I shared the news with Brad &amp;amp; we kept it to ourselves, not sure what to make of it all. For six months, every 22 days on the mark, I had a period, just as normal as before the miscarriage. I never called a doctor. I never had any tests run. We let God be God and we kept on living.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-1714225421795473331?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/1714225421795473331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=1714225421795473331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/1714225421795473331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/1714225421795473331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2007/10/healing.html' title='Healing?'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-7558039356885260745</id><published>2007-10-14T18:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T18:22:06.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clarity</title><content type='html'>In May 2005 I had a missed miscarriage (yes, that’s possible!) somewhere around the eighth week of my first pregnancy. Not really that big of a deal (except for the ‘missed’ part). By that I mean, very common. But it’s what followed that became the ‘deal’. I had a D&amp;amp;C (normal in my situation). My body didn’t return to normal. After much testing, prodding, poking &amp;amp; well, enough of that…I was sent to a specialist/surgeon in the Atlanta area for a hysteroscopy and laparoscopy.  Upon my initial visit and consult, he agreed with my OB/GYN that I probably had *Asherman’s Syndrome and with surgery he could probably restore it to normalcy.&lt;br /&gt;(*The uterine lining, endometrium, can be traumatized, typically after a D&amp;amp;C and then develop scars which can obliterate the cavity to a varying degree. In the extreme, the whole cavity has been scarred and occluded and the patient becomes infertile.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In late Dec. 2005 I had the surgery. The surgeon called &amp;amp; consulted his colleagues, stopped the surgery, and went out in the lobby to talk to Brad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“She’s going to have trouble.” Were his first words. You can imagine my husband sitting there, wondering what kind of trouble. This was supposed to be a fairly easy procedure. And then there were the words that would ring in our years for months to come (&amp;amp; we would get the pleasure of reading several times throughout the surgeon’s report).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Her uterus has been obliterated.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up to see my surgeon’s heavy face. I begged to know what was wrong but was assured that he would call me at home tomorrow and discuss everything.  Fighting nausea &amp;amp; grogginess, I remember struggling to sit up and demanded to know what was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;“Mrs. Ellis, your uterus has been obliterated.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if I had been more alert, I truly believe I would have said, ‘what a minute…when I came in here, I had a uterus. If it’s obliterated, then where did it go &amp;amp; what did you do with it?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met with the surgeon two weeks post-op. As if his conversations with me hadn’t penetrated, he got out a small piece of paper, drew a uterus on it then took a black pen and scribbled it all in, stating ‘this is what your uterus looks like.’&lt;br /&gt;Now, to show him some mercy here, I do recognize that his agenda was not to heal me per se, but to offer me his company’s services - fertility assistance. More specifically, a surrogate mother. We had made it extremely clear from the beginning that we were not interested in pursuing that route but appreciated his concern. We did not seek his specialty for fertility, but rather, to make me ‘whole’ &amp;amp; healthy again. (And make sure that I remained in good health, despite pregnancy.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He slid the blackened-in drawing across the desk to me. And I said that I understood, appreciated his attempt to help me with surgery and thanked him. The tone changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He through his pen down on his desk, and exasperated asked, ‘I don’t get it. What is so different about you and your husband?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends, there are few moments in life when one can honestly recognize a TRUE moment of clarity. So THIS is why this happened to me! Jesus wants this surgeon’s heart (&amp;amp; his  family’s heart) so much that He used a petite, 30-something year old with Asherman’s Syndrome to let him know that His Heavenly Father was dying for him to know how much he loved him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For approximately 20 minutes Dr. surgeon and I talked. The conversation started with me responding with ‘I’m so glad you asked!’ And he let me talk, uninterrupted, about God, His Son Jesus, the ‘bigness’ of our God, His power to give and take away, how He died to have a relationship with us, &amp;amp; just how crazy He is about him and his family. He let me ask him several personal &amp;amp; Faith questions, answering with chapters of his own story of battling with even going into this profession back in college knowing that his upbringing and Faith (Catholicism) wouldn’t agree. He was honest. He didn’t seem to have a relationship with God the way I described &amp;amp; he hadn’t been to church in years. (Although I did point out the significant role church could play in his and his families life, I did make the more important point that more than that, his Creator is dying for a relationship with him, whether active in a church or not.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation drew to a close as I thanked him again for trying to help me but explained to him that ‘although you’re a very smart, well-educated man who has been used  to help a lot of women, there is one  thing you will never be able to do &amp;amp; that only our God can do….create life. No matter if I, or any woman that comes through your office, gets pregnant it’s not up to you. You do not have that power. There is only one – our God, our Creator. The only one who can give life.’  He shook my hand (&amp;amp; I think shook his head a little, as I was obviously not going to take his advice &amp;amp; get a surrogate mother.) But I feel we departed on good terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks later I got his report on my case. His report is very clear as it resonates his words ‘obliterated uterus’.  The final paragraph concludes with ‘offering Brad &amp;amp; Sharon other fertility options, they denied these options for religious reasons.’  If he had said, ‘because of their belief and relationship with the Creator and giver of all life, God &amp;amp; His Son Jesus’ I might feel more at peace about his understanding of our conversation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-7558039356885260745?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/7558039356885260745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=7558039356885260745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/7558039356885260745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/7558039356885260745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2007/10/clarity.html' title='Clarity'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-2609961548373131365</id><published>2007-10-14T15:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T16:06:00.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter One: Journaling</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;1/20/06 – Sharon Ellis &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The following is a journal entry from January 20, 2006. We thought this was the end of the story, but now we know it was just the beginning of Sprout’s story…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m re-reading the book A Deeper Shade of Grace by Bernadette Keaggy (Phil Keaggy’s wife). I read it years ago. I’m not sure how or why I even have this book. Bernadette wrote it to give others hope. (After loosing five children.) For Christmas this year, my dear friend Cris gave me a silver star ornament with the word HOPE carved in it. After a year full of words like ‘rare’, ‘unusual’, (referring to my mom’s cancer) and ‘obliterated’ (referring to my uterus), you suddenly find yourself living in irony. Irony is not pretty. It doesn’t feel good and it takes you off any pedestal or throne you ever thought you were on. (As if I’m above anything like that happening to me or my family.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor’s told Bernadette that her miscarriage “would have no effect on future pregnancies.”&lt;br /&gt;That’s exactly what we thought and were even told. (We experienced a miscarriage in May 2005)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil Keaggy says, “All that from His wisdom flows.”&lt;br /&gt;It hurts my pride to know that God knows something else. Like something else…more tragedy is down the road, around the corner. And it is God’s best that I do not have a baby. I’m not meant to have a child? Brad &amp;amp; I aren’t meant to have a child together? There is a deep, unsettling, sobering thought. I can’t shake it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Try not to get your hopes up…Hope? What else is there?’ (Keaggy, 60).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now the only hope I have is carved in that silver star.”&lt;br /&gt;Sharon Ellis, Jan. ‘05&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-2609961548373131365?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/2609961548373131365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=2609961548373131365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/2609961548373131365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/2609961548373131365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2007/10/chapter-one-journaling.html' title='Chapter One: Journaling'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8358767347441854505.post-4337939663913111560</id><published>2007-09-18T06:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T06:23:52.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Introduction</title><content type='html'>Ok folks, I'm not much of a writer, but many have been mentioning a blog for our little life.  So here t'goes!  I'll probably come back and delete this post, but I wanted to go ahead and put something out there.  Eventually our story will be put on it.  Then you will need to grab a cup-a-jo and sit back because it is a long story (depending on who tells it! . . . no offense :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First let's say this, all praise and glory and recognition goes to the One, the Only, The Creator Of Life.  That's english for Elohim.  He who creates out of nothing, the almightly God be glorified through our life and the life that's growing inside of Sharon as I type!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8358767347441854505-4337939663913111560?l=sproutstory.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/feeds/4337939663913111560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8358767347441854505&amp;postID=4337939663913111560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/4337939663913111560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8358767347441854505/posts/default/4337939663913111560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sproutstory.blogspot.com/2007/09/introduction.html' title='The Introduction'/><author><name>Brad and Sharon Ellis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10304630563070166004</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13095877222002697296'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>