{7QT} the Second-First-Time Mommy edition

It's FRIDAY!!! And since I want to get another post up I thought I'd jump on the 7QT bandwagon once again. Ready? Ok! Enjoy my 7 Quick Takes: the second-first-time Mom edition.

--- 1 ---

We've been playing detective for the last three weeks to determine what causes our little Kristin to wake up in the middle or end of a nap crying, and fussing throughout the day. She also squirms in her sleep, making me think her sleep is not very restful. Or maybe that's just normal for babies...but I'm experimenting with improving her sleep anyway. Fortunately, I think we've confirmed at least one source of discomfort. Our tiny little baby was diagnosed with some degree of reflux. Poor girl! Two weeks ago we adopted a nightly routine of administering strawberry flavored baby Prilosec. Yum yum yum! Not. :( It makes me so sad we have her on regular medication at such a young age, but it was breaking my heart even more to see her in pain. The meds seem to be helping at least a little bit...she doesn't gag or squirm in her sleep quite as much. Still some...but not as much. If I am diligent with the burping she is much better off.  

--- 2 ---

Part two of our detective work has been determining if her interrupted sleep and fussiness is caused by some food sensitivities. The two first suspects: dairy and soy. Ohhhh joy. So for the past two weeks I have been on a strict dairy-free, soy-free diet so that starting tomorrow we can slowly introduce soy products. If her behavior doesn't change--hooray! Not that her behavior changed once I eliminated them... but still, hopefully this little test provides us the confirmation and peace of mind of what foods affect Kristin. Hopefully it will turn out that I don't have to steer free of chocolate (soy lecithin) and most sandwich breads (soy lecithin and/or soybean oil) after all! Soy is in EVERYTHING. Next we'll introduce some dairy, probably starting with a baked good that contains butter or milk. Then I think I'll try a slice of cheese...or a cup of yogurt. Anyway, my gut says soy doesn't affect her at all. I think dairy does to some extent, but not acutely.  

--- 3 ---

Cloth diapering is working out soooo well! And it's turned what could be an all-out nasty job to something a wee bit fun. I mean, look at that cute little butt. How can you not get excited about diapering when it can be so adorable?! I was a little nervous to start when Kristin was born, but I had researched and prepared extensively before Samuel's birth so there really was no reason to be hesitant. Now that we have a solid routine we have thoroughly enjoyed the savings from not having to buy disposables! I love, love, LOVE my Green Mountain Diapers. We use their unbleached cotton prefolds and unbleached cotton Workhorse diapers. I had bought a couple different styles of covers...one-size, fitted, snaps, hook & loop... Our favorite covers, hands down, have turned out to be the Thirsties Diaper Covers. Not the duo wraps. Just the plain old Thirsties Diaper Cover with hook & loop closure. They are fitted and not too bulky under Kristin's clothes. I am surprised that I don't prefer the snaps. Snaps are far more durable than hook & loop. But no. I like the functionality of the hook & loop. I quickly fold a prefold in thirds, slip it into the cover and put the diaper on Kristin just like a disposable. Bam. Easy peasy.

--- 4 ---

My favorite, favorite part of our cloth diapering system is our cloth wipes! The functionality and cost savings make me so excited just talking about it. When I was pregnant with Samuel I took about 18 of David's old, pit-stained undershirts and cut 8"x12" rectangles out of the body. My mom and sister then made double thick wipes, sewing two rectangles together. My sister even "styled" a number of them with her creative touch. A cartoon sheep here, a kitty-cat there. Don't underestimate the value of cuteness on a butt wipe! 

We keep all 40+ wipes rolled up in a couple old Huggies wipes containers. Every day we fill one container of wipes with plain ol' tap water, giving us a super convenient clean-up system that can go in the wash along with the diapers. No garbage necessary. 

Now, we haven't attempted night-time cloth diaper yet. Still using a couple disposables which wick moisture away from the skin (the only downside to cloth) so we don't have to interrupt Kristin's amazing sleep. Maybe we'll attempt a nighttime CD system in the next couple weeks.... maybe. 

--- 5 ---

Kristin received her first big batch of immunizations this week. Holy cow, poor girl! I always feel so crummy after getting my tDap booster. I can only imagine how her little body felt after the six she had on Tuesday. She woke up from a good nap crying in pain. I couldn't figure it out at first--fever? reflux? general fussiness? I carried her back for a diaper change and her cry increased. Oh! Her poor legs!! :( The leg where she got the Dtap was sore. Two hours of I'm-in-pain-crying, a bit of Tylenol, a snack and another nap later she felt much better. Oh my goodness. That was an exhausting day.  

--- 6 ---

I should buy stock in exercise balls. Since birth, this is the only sure-fire method of soothing my daughter. Yes. Bouncing on the exercise ball. Fast. Slow. Rocking forward. Rocking sideways. Big bounces. Little bounces. Any and all bouncing will most efficiently soothe the sweet, sweet baby girl. And don't you dare put her down once she's "fallen asleep." She's foolin' you. She's not really sleeping. She has merely closed her eyes. Should you put her down you will be punished by double the amount of fussing and wailing. 

Did I mention I have a verbal child? ;-) 

--- 7 ---

Speaking of verbal, crying is [fortunately] not Kristin's primary method of communication. She ooh's, aah's, gurgles and grunts, and smiles. The best part of my day is babbling back and forth with her, watching her expressions change as we "talk." It has only been two months and she has learned so much already. I love helping her grow. I love helping her discover new things, like the ability to make the bouncy seat bounce when she kicks her legs at the toys. This second-first-time mommy thing definitely has its perks! 

Gah!! I LOVE that little grin!

Happy Friday, all! Check out some other lovely ladies' Quick Takes, now hosted by Kelly over at This Ain't the Lyceum

A New Birth Story: Kristin Elizabeth

Well...my darling little girl just received her 2 month immunizations a couple days ago. I cannot believe it has already been two months since she came into this world. Two months since we took another step forward on our path as parents, on our path of healing. Two months since I have been a mama of TWO beautiful children. Two months since my world was once again changed forever.

I almost can't remember what my life was like before Kristin. I mean...I remember...it just seems so, so long ago. And now that she's here I struggle to find the time to write. She's a wonderfully marvelous nighttime sleeper. Sleeps through the night, only stirring 2-3 times asking for a snack. A little side nursing (or sitting-in-bed nursing) and she's off to sleep again. Like I said, wonderfully marvelous. I'm spoiled.

But she's a terrible napper (according to my hopes and expectations ;-) ... She's probably perfectly normal). Twenty minutes here, twenty minutes there. And she must be held or in the carrier. Aw, sweet girl. This must be her way of telling me to slow down and enjoy her baby days.

Nevertheless, I'm finding ways to pull together her birth story. So important to me to document her big day. I never want to forget it...

Looking back, I can now see that I had been in mild labor for about a week before Kristin was actually born. If you recall, I was worrying about whether or not I was mentally and emotionally prepared for the birth of my second child. After finishing that post I thought I was in a great space. I was prepared. Bring on the water breaking, the intense contractions, the transition...all of it. Bring. It. On.

That night--less than a week away from my due date--I woke in the middle of the night to a gradual tightening just below my belly button. My heart beat prominently in my chest and I became slightly lightheaded. Huh. Was I just imagining that? Ok, relax Beth. We'll see if this happens again in another 15 minutes or so. Maybe tonight will be the night!

Not even 15 minutes later, my lower abdomen began to tighten once again. Oh my goodness! I didn't imagine it! Recalling my education from our Bradley classes and the words of advice from my midwife, I did my best to allow my body to rest. Let those contractions come, but try to sleep. After about an hour I was no longer able to relax.

David....David.....David. I think this is it. As he mumbled approval through his grogginess, worry once again flooded my brain. I don't know if Chickadee is properly positioned! What if he/she was spinning around, wrapping the cord around his/her neck?? Why do I feel so lightheaded with every contraction?

Frustratingly, all that worry didn't do me any good. After another half hour the contractions were practically non-existent. False alarm.  

I woke up Saturday morning discouraged. How could I still be carrying this baby? According to all the measurements Chickadee was measuring at least two weeks big. Samuel was born 12 days early and he never measured "2 weeks ahead" on the oh-so-accurate fundal height scale. New worries flooded my brain. Would my body go into labor before my Chickadee was too big to deliver naturally? Would I have to be induced? Why isn't my baby deciding to enter the world yet?? Is there something wrong?

Before long I was totally consumed by worry, so much so that I could think of nothing else. I worried that Chickadee hadn't yet dropped. I worried that labor complications would arise if baby came after the due date. I worried that my worry was somehow blocking labor from starting. I continued to hear the assurances of others that everything was going to be just fine, that waiting for labor to start is a normally anxious time. 

A few more days passed without a single sign of labor. I increased my squatting time to "as much as possible" throughout the day. When I wasn't squatting or walking I was sitting on our exercise ball, praying that labor would just start already! I prayed for patience. I prayed for peace of mind. I prayed for the grace to let go of control, for the grace to place my trust back in God the way I had with Samuel. When I wasn't praying I was doing my best to keep busy. Keep distracted. I finished projects. Ran errands. Sunday afternoon I decided it made sense to do one final deep clean of the house. My grandma--the highly experienced mother of 10--recommended getting down on my hands and knees to scrub the floor if I wanted labor to kick in. Couldn't hurt to try!

I had just finished scrubbing the kitchen Sunday afternoon when I felt it. Once again that feeling of tightening. But this time I had to stop and lean on the counter, waiting until the tension passed. This was a serious contraction. Finally. Finally, this had to be it. Excitement once again rushed through my body and mind. I tried to stay calm. After all, adrenaline is the sure-fire way to slow any progress of labor.

My effort to remain calm was to no avail. Contractions subsided after an hour and half of sweeping and vacuuming. Gaaahhhh! I was going to lose my mind. I was SO tired of these on-again off-again shenanigans.

Two days later I met my midwife, Donna, for my 40 week check up. She patiently addressed all my worries, assuring me that baby was occiput anterior (not posterior like I was fearing), and that baby was at least a little bit engaged. She also addressed my fear of delivering a giant baby; Donna guessed Chickadee would be around 8 lbs. 2 oz. Nothing to worry about. Plus, I have a "very nice pelvis, made for delivering babies." She laid out a plan for what might happen if I did not go into labor before my 41 week check up, assuring me that everything is and will continue to be just fine. Her one last "prescription" was to allow myself to give up control, starting with being present in these final days of just David and me. She gave me a hug before I left the office. I really hoped I wouldn't see her next week!
 
That night, I invited David to happy hour on the Harbor. We grabbed a quiet table by the windows, ordered a couple delicious tasting plates and a beer for David. We talked. We savored. and I let go. Somehow everything was going to be ok.

The next day I ran some more errands. Groceries, returns, and the fabric & craft store. I made lamb stew and biscuits for dinner, one of my all-time favorite winter meals. Life was good. I was calm, happy and at peace with whenever and however my baby was going to enter the world. David and I were both prepared for him to go to work tomorrow...my due date. After all, Chickadee did not seem in a hurry to enter the world any time soon.

We crawled into bed around 10:30. I hoped for an improvement from previous nights' sleep--that is, I hoped for fewer trips to the bathroom. I knew that was wishful thinking, but a girl could always hope.

11:55 - first wake-up call. I rolled my giant belly over and slid out of bed. Sleepily turned on the lights to the bathroom. Pop pop...pop.

Oh. My. Goodness!!! I know that sign. That was my water. That was my water breaking. Holy cow. Practically midnight, practically 00:00 on Chickadee's due date my water has broken!!!! Ok. What to do. I need to try and get some sleep. Who knows how long it will take for labor to progress, so sleep is good. Ok. I can do that. First tell David. Then sleep. Or do I call my photographer? My mom? Do I contact people now then sleep? Yes, I think I should do that.

My brain was racing with excitement. Finally this was really it. Finally I was in labor. I walked back over to the bed, a rubbed David's shoulder to wake him.

"Honey, don't be alarmed...but my water just broke."

"Ok, that's good." He remained in bed, eyes wanting to stay closed, knowing that we had some time before needing to take action. David's logic got the better of him, however. He decided it would be prudent to lay some towels on my side of the bed just in case the trickle became a flood.  

Meanwhile, I decided to call my mom and photographer who were both going to meet us at the hospital whenever we got there. Just a heads up...it's time!!!!!!

Phone calls complete, I crawled back in bed hoping to get some sleep before contractions really took over. Relaaaaaaax, Beth. I know you're excited but you need to get some rest.

Not five minutes later, I felt Chickadee's head turn and drop, followed by a HUGE gush of fluid. (Thank goodness for David's logic and those towels!) Um....yeah. I'm not going to get any sleep. I let David know and made my way to the shower. If I had to wait for contractions to start I was going to at least be somewhere I could better manage the mess.

I learned from my labor with Samuel that I really wanted to take a shower before heading to the hospital. A shower, and maybe even putting my hair and face together. I had no idea when the next opportunity to do so would be. Shower now, no worries later. Meanwhile, David set off to wrap things up in the house, packed some snacks and ensuring we had everything packed for the hospital, and ensured we had everything packed for the hospital.

Within minutes of stepping into the shower, I felt the first contraction. Mild. I had to pause and breathe through it. But mild nonetheless. A few minutes later, another contraction. Wow. Ok. That was close. Breathe. You can get through this. Another few minutes, another contraction. These are pretty regular and close together already. I swear labor just started. This is strange...

I asked David to start the contraction app just to see how close things really were. By the time I finished my shower and putting my hair together my contractions were regularly three minutes apart, and a minute to a minute and a half long. But they weren't very intense. Well, they were. But I was able to breathe through them on my own. I didn't need David coaching me through them like I did with Samuel.

David took some time to shower while I finished getting dressed and putting my face together. A slight bit of vanity, perhaps....but we were going to have Chickadee's birth photographed! I wanted to feel beautiful in this vulnerable situation. The contractions were getting more intense now. I had to pause between each step of make-up application. Mascara on the left...pause... breathe... breathe... breathe........ ok. It's letting up. Moving on the my right eye. Awesome. Done. Ok. pause. breathe.... breathe.......

1:15 am - After finishing up my make up I knew we really needed to leave for the hospital. My contractions had increased in intensity and required my complete focus every time one came on. I didn't want to labor too, too long at the hospital, but I also didn't want to have this baby on the side of the road. David confirmed the car was packed. We had snacks. Everything was locked up. It was time. We were ready. This is it.

We were going to go meet our second child. A child for whom we prayed. A child who would not have been part of our lives had Samuel not died. A child who would make us SECOND-FIRST-TIME parents. Standing in our kitchen, we said good-bye to "us" for the second time in our relationship. We said good-bye to being parents of one child in Heaven. Here we go. Let's do this again. But hopefully this time...the outcome will be different.

40 weeks - heading to the hospital!

2:15 am - When we arrived at the hospital, my contractions continued to require all of my attention. I stepped out of the car...pause... breathe... breathe... breeeeeathe... As the contraction lessened I looked up to see our photographer, Chelle, excitedly (and tiredly) waiting for us. It was so good to see her. She had been such a huge source of encouragement leading up to this day, I just knew she would continue to provide that source of calm to the birth of our Chickadee.

After checking in and a few more contractions later I was wheeled up to triage. The longest wheelchair ride ever. Working through contractions in a hard, unforgiving chair driven by unsteady hands...wow. That was the queasiest I felt the entire labor. I finally reached triage and changed into a gown so the nurses could take a quick 20 minute strip of my contractions and Chickadee's vitals.

Soon after getting settled my mom arrived. Having my mom at the birth of our second baby was a huge change from our birth of Samuel. It meant the world to me to have her there. Strange because we don't share many intimate moments...but because this was such an intimate moment, a moment of moving forward, of healing, of getting back on the horse...her involvement was made all the more special. She felt it was important to be at the hospital this time. Just in case. She didn't want me to be alone if something happened again. Knowing that she was there just in case provided both David and me a source of comfort that no matter what, we were supported. Everything was going to be okay.

A nurse took a quick peak at my strip just as another contraction came on. Suddenly, the monitor was removed from my belly and I was instructed to move down the hall to another room.

um, excuse me? I am having serious contractions every two minutes and you want me to walk down the hall?? WHY? Why can't I just finish laboring here?

I didn't have time to get a full explanation before another contraction came on. I recalled walking the halls when laboring with Samuel. Walking progressed labor. And I was totally capable of managing the contractions then. So I should be able to manage them again now. The walk seemed to take forever, but I'm sure it was only a short distance down the hall.

3:34 am - When we walked into the next room The Table (yes, capital T) was being set up. I remember The Table. The Table means baby is almost here. The Table holds all the tools needed for delivery. Did the nurses know something I didn't? I hadn't even hit transition yet. How could we be this close?

We could be this close because two contractions later, I. Was. Pushing. Yes. Pushing. What the heck?? Did I somehow skip or miss my transition? This is not going at all how my previous labor went. I'm supposed to be experienced, and this does not align with my experience! I felt a wave of fear run through my body. I can't push yet, the midwife isn't here! Is everyone ready for this baby? Do we have all the medical equipment we need? Oh my goodness. I don't know if I can't push this baby out. Lord, help me. Give me strength. I glanced over to the photo of Samuel we had brought with us. Lord, give me strength to trust in You.

I started to vocalize through each contraction using a guttural "moo" recommended by some other natural-birth mamas out there. My "moo" turned out to be more of a sing-song "ooohh" rather than a moo, but it was working. David coached me through each push, encouraging me to sing and reminding me that each push was productive. That my body was once again doing what it was designed to do.

One more contraction later the on-call midwife arrived and I was asked to lay back for a cervical exam. Ohhhh man I hated this position. The pain of the pushing contraction intensified while on my back. Fortunately, just as with Samuel at this point, I was pretty much fully dilated except for a slight lip. I knew I needed to move around to complete the dilation. We tried a few positions. Hands and knees...Scary. I felt insecure. Classic sitting position...almost as uncomfortable as laying on my back. Squatting...productive. Very productive, but overwhelmingly scary and insecure. Finally, with encouragement from Peggy and the nurses I decided to push this baby out laying on my side.

Wow. Chickadee felt SO. LOW. Every push I could feel my baby moving lower and lower. He or she was so. close. And yet I felt hesitation. I knew I needed to push. Chickadee couldn't stay inside forever. But I was nervous, scared, apprehensive about facing my reality. Here I was, bearing through so much pain. Pushing through so much pain...I had to push this baby out...and yet thoughts of Samuel....oh the memories of Samuel. Suddenly I was overwhelmed with confusion, grief...fear. Chickadee was so close. Maybe four more pushes. I know, I know. I have to push....but I don't want to!

I gripped David's hand tighter, burying my face in his arm and "singing" through the next push as best I could, determined to not let my grief get in the way of this birth or potentially harm my baby. At the next break I looked up again at Samuel's photo. I had to trust in God. I had to trust that God was going to give us all the grace we'd need to embrace our Chickadee with open arms.

I took a deep breath and looked at David. I told him how much I loved him, how much I missed Samuel. And I prepared for the next push...

With all the courage I could muster I sang until I felt Chickadee's head crown. And oh, baby did I feel the head crown. And it didn't ease back like I expected. I couldn't push the whole head out in one contraction like I had done with Samuel. So. Much. Burning. I need that next contraction NOW. My midwife encouraged me to try pushing without the contraction to get beyond this stage of labor. But I was afraid that by pushing outside of the contraction the burn would be even worse, so I resorted to what I had practiced: I breathed through the burn until the next contraction came on. Never before had I wanted a contraction so badly as I did in that moment.

Finally, I felt the next wave. With one last focused and deliberate push, I felt my Chickadee's head enter the world. Ooh's and ahh's sounded about the room, remarking on "all that hair!" My heart swelled with pride remembering Samuel's thick head of hair. Oh Samuel. And now this baby. This baby needs my attention and love here and now. My heart was torn in so many directions. I buried my face in David's hand and gave one more push. At 4:19 in the morning my second baby entered the world.

The midwife lifted Chickadee up for me to see. Immediately I exclaimed with great joy, It's a GIRL!!! I had an incredibly strong inclination since before we had even conceived our second baby that we would be having a girl. Somehow God had let me know that our second child would be a daughter, and here she was. Our beautiful, healthy, vocal baby girl.

She rested on my chest as the nurse took her vitals and apgars. I was overwhelmed. Dizzy. My mind was swirling with adrenaline, excitement, relief, and somewhere I know there was grief... Here I was holding my baby. She was warm, alert with eyes WIDE open, trying to take in the world. I just kept holding her. Nothing else to do other than hold her. I looked at David, more in love with him than ever before. We had just birthed our second child. And our second child was healthy.

Welcome to the world, Kristin Elizabeth - you have stolen our hearts. You remind us of your brother, Samuel, yet you are completely your own person. And for that I am so thankful. You are a blessing in my life, one of the greatest gifts I have ever known. Welcome to our family, my little Chickadee. May you always know how much you are loved.   

It's a GIRL!!!...Introducing (FINALLY!) our little Chickadee

Oh my gosh, you guys, I FINALLY have a moment to blog! After all the holiday hoopla, the travels, and well just trying to figure out life with a newborn...I have a moment! Quick Beth, take it and write without abandon. No proofing, No editing. Just write!

I realize that this announcement is coming ridiculously late but...

I want you to meet our little Chickadee, 

Kristin Elizabeth

Born on her due date just before Thanksgiving at 4:19am, Kristin surprised all of us at how healthy she was (and still is!). Kristin was born 9 lbs. 12 oz, 21" long. We all knew she was measuring big from the very beginning, but I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be delivering a 9 pound baby, let alone almost one who was almost 10!

I would love to take this time to write her birth story, but honestly I'm not sure I have the time. Kristin truly is a sweet baby, but we've been blessed with a sweet baby who is sweetest when held. And not just held, bounced, swayed, waltzed around the room...in fact, I'm sitting on an exercise ball now as I write this with my little bambino. Fortunately we had planned to wear our babies which helps tremendously to keep her content. But I didn't have a clue what kind of toll my baby's fussiness would have on my heart, mind and body.

All that being said, I am blessed. WE are blessed. Our baby is healthy. Our baby is strong. She is alive and well (and reminds us of this often ;) Until I have a good half day to document her birth, I will simply share some photos. Our little Kristin over the past (almost) 2 months.

Kangaroo time :)

Just about to take our baby HOME

Hands down my favorite photo

Kristin's first Thanksgiving - and red cup run!

Photo day - 8 days old

Looooong baby. These newborn clothes did not last long!

First visit to her big brother's burial site.
Bittersweet, but I loved having my two kids together

She's a very smiley baby when rested, fed and changed :) Love that grin

One of many bath pictures. Like Samuel, she loves bath time.

Kristin loves her daddy!

Kristin Elizabeth - Baptized into the Catholic Church Dec. 7, 2015

As expected, welcoming Kristin into our lives has had its ups and downs. Most days we are working hard to learn her wants, needs and cues as first-time parents for the second time. Some days we are overwhelmed. Here and there I miss Samuel terribly. And every day we are grateful for the blessing that Kristin is to us. God is so good!

Am I ready to meet Baby??

As I mentioned a couple days ago, I have been trying to find the courage to share a bit more of the reality that is preparing for our second child after having experienced the death of our first. A second child who has thus far proven to be huge, healthy, and genetic-abnormality-free. The pregnancy has been full of ups and downs, most of which I've kept very private while I try to comprehend this next chapter in my life. It has been especially difficult for me to organize such complex emotions into words. My reality is painful. On many levels, it absolutely sucks. But most of all, my reality as it stands today goes against all my previous expectations of what it is to be a mom.  

Now, less than one week away from Chickadee's due date, my expectations of motherhood are seriously being challenged. Challenged because there's a change a-brewin' and I can't slow that change-train down. Any day now I will be bringing my second child into the world, and I have to ask myself: am I ready for this next chapter of motherhood, to birth my second baby? Am I really ready to meet my second child?

Three and a half weeks ago my midwife told me I could deliver this baby "any day now." I was not particularly thrilled by that idea because I still had SO MUCH TO DO around the house in preparation. Well, as I shared on Wednesday, I have accomplished much of my to-do list and then some. I am logistically ready for our baby to come home. I excitedly shared this with my midwife earlier this week, who--in her usual way that I very much appreciate--bluntly shoved aside this little fact and cut to the chase: was I mentally prepared to deliver this baby? 

Oh sure, I replied. I mean, I'm a little nervous about facing the pain of labor again. That's no cake walk. But I know I can do it and I'm looking forward to tackling the challenge head on. 

This answer seemed to satisfy her so we moved on. But the answer did not satisfy my heart. I didn't feel like the answer was complete, or completely honest for that matter.

Throughout this pregnancy, I haven't wanted to address the possibility of having any thoughts or feelings that were anything but happy, grateful, hopeful, excited for this new baby. Those emotions are the approved emotions for someone who so badly wants to bring new life into the world, the approved emotions for someone who desires to be an example of "openness to life." Should I feel anything but these aforementioned emotions I am automatically a bad mother, a bad representation of openness to life. Of course, these standards are imaginary and were [subconsciously] set by me, myself and I. But I would never admit that out loud and I certainly wasn't going to entertain the possibility that I was avoiding my own life story, my own normal, my own reality. 

My midwife's question was a bit of a slap. Not a full-palm across the face kind of slap. Just a thwack across the back of the head. HEY! Pay attention. With a mind more focused, I suddenly saw the consequences of my subconscious-expectation-setting. And I fell into a bit of a panic.

I...am not ready.

Any day now this child is going to decide it's time to enter the world and I, his/her mother, am not ready. NOT. GOOD.

Of course, logically I'm ready to meet baby. I'm ready to mother. To soothe. To feed. To change. To care for, read to, sing to. I even am prepared to undergo the intensity of labor and delivery again. So what makes me think I'm not ready??

I'm not ready to face the harsh reality that I will be actively caring for my second baby and my first is no where to be seen. To face the harsh reality once again that my son, my Samuel, isn't here. That I had to let go, that I had to give him to God. Over and over again I am reminded of this reality, and I really don't want to be reminded right now. Meeting my second baby is supposed to be a moment of tremendous joy and gratitude. These feelings of longing for the son I lost very well may impede on those feelings of joy and gratitude when I meet my second baby. My second baby deserves the unadulterated love, joy and gratitude that I was able to offer Samuel. Not any of this tarnished-with-grief-love. I started to realize all the worries that have been lingering in the back of my mind. 

What if I focus too much on loving my little Chickadee that I start to forget my love for Samuel, simply because I feel afraid and/or guilty to long for him?  

What if I forget to include Samuel in my heart because I am so focused on what I have here on earth?

What if I love this baby more than I love Samuel just because I get to hold this baby in my arms, tightly not having to let go before I want to?

What if I resist loving this baby? Out of guilt because loving this baby might somehow imply I love Samuel less? Out of fear because I may one day lose him or her? Out of selfishness because raising this child to be worthy for Heaven could be a much longer and therefore harder road?

What if my grief consumes me and I cannot be present and love this second baby with all that I am? 

Fortunately I have tangible life experience proving that none of these worries will end up being true. I can firmly hold onto the knowledge that in the months leading up to Samuel's birth I worried constantly about being able to love Samuel enough. Was I really capable of loving a baby enough? As soon as he was born, everything fell into place. And I learned...yes. A hundred times over, YES, I could love my baby enough, even with all his quirks and complications. That is the beauty of God's grace. He will always provide us enough grace to love no matter the circumstances if we are open to it. 

But that comforting knowledge does not make the grief any less painful. And let me tell you, I am so flipping tired of grieving. I really wish it could end. I know this sort of suffering is something that will never go away. It will ALWAYS be my cross to bear. I will always be taking small steps or big leaps to the next stepping stone on my path toward Heaven. It can just be so heavy sometimes.

I suppose that's where I am right now. Preparing to shoulder that cross. Staring at it. Reluctant to pick it up for fear that it will hinder my ability to be present with Chickadee, to mother Chickadee, to love Chickadee with all that I am. Fear that the cross will trigger memories of Samuel that make me miss him more than I can handle. Fear that missing Samuel will make labor pains more intense. Fear that this cross will cast a negative light on the memories I will have of birthing Chickadee.

Why must this cross be so scary? I just want to kick it, throw dirt on it, run away from it.

But I cannot move forward without this cross. It is part of me. It is part of the path God has set forth for me, a tool for the road ahead perhaps? Ohhhhh, more worries to flood the brain. Let's not think about that right now...

I will think about the grace God has given me to carry this cross for the last 19 months. I am in total awe of His mercy and grace that He's given me through my loved ones, through strangers, through long-lost acquaintances. All of YOU praying for me and David. All of YOU offering shoulders to cry on, hearts to help hold the hurt, ears to listen to the same story, the same pains over and over again.

All of YOU who are the hands and feet of Jesus helping me carry this massive weight through life. 

Remembering all of you now as I write this, I feel stronger. I feel like I can pick up this cross and walk toward the joy that awaits me in meeting our second baby. This cross that is my grief does not prevent the joy, just as the joy I will feel does not remove the grief. Rather, my joy and grief can coincide.

By the grace of God, I heave this cross back on my shoulders and am still able look ahead with excitement. There are so many things I am looking forward to! I'm looking forward to seeing my baby's face. To learning if we have another son or a daughter. I can't wait to see if my second baby has a thick head of hair like his/her brother. How massive is this baby, really? I am excited to look into my baby's eyes, even though I will likely cry remembering that I never got to see Samuel's eyes. I am excited to drive baby home in the car seat we purchased for Samuel almost two years ago. I am excited to lay my living, breathing baby in the co-sleeper his/her great-grandpa built. I am excited to snuggle. To nuzzle my nose into baby's hair, smothering him/her with kisses, again likely reminding me of my time with Samuel. I am excited to try feeding at breast rather than pumping!! A baby will be far more enticing in the wee morning hours than a milking machine. 

There are things I am ready for when it comes to delivering baby. The fears, the grief, the pain do not necessarily indicate that I'm not ready. Rather, they are part of my path. I pray that God gives me the grace to accept those fears and worries so that I can focus on the blessings. I pray that through God's grace I can open my heart and fully place my trust in Him for whenever the time comes to meet Chickadee.

And I would like to extend my prayers to include all of you reading this. I will be offering intentions throughout my labor with little Chickadee, helping my mind focus on God's love through the intensity of each contraction. If you would like me to add any of your intentions to my prayers please, please, please comment below!! I would love to pray for you, for something specific, or for someone else you think of!

May God bless you with His abundant grace today!

Waiting Game - it's almost time!

After months and months of preparation (one reason I took a break from the bloggin' world), our nest is ready to bring Chickadee home! Since we are at the point of twiddling our thumbs, just waiting for the "Go!" moment I took some time to empty my brain. And camera.

Tomorrow, I will be 39 weeks pregnant.

Though lil' Chickadee is measuring 41 weeks (oy vey).

This pregnancy has been nothing like my pregnancy with Samuel.

With Samuel...I was "high risk" at 36 weeks. Blood pressure was going up and up. Induction was definitely an impending doom. I spent the last three days before going into natural labor (yay!) on strict bed rest to keep that blood pressure from increasing even more.

This pregnancy is still low risk! Hooray! My blood pressure is normal. Baby is growing huge. Baby's heart rate is strong. My body is showing signs of labor.

I am horrible at this waiting game. I find if I don't keep my hands busy I start worrying. And worrying. And worrying some more. I also am quite prone to boredom. Wow, is it like this for every woman at the end of her pregnancy?

The crib in which I was raised! Yes, that's a drop-down side. No I'm not worried.
Mechanical engineer inspected and approved. 

  

I'm particularly impressed with my ability to let go this time around. My initial to-do list (created last spring) is FAR from complete. In fact, I scratched many things off the list not because they were done but because I decided they weren't a priority. The baseboards, trim and main house will be painted at a later date! Laundry room update, maybe next spring! Sewing window valances, give me another year. :)

But I still have accomplished quite a bit in preparing for this little one.

Yard is (well...was, before the weeds came back, and the wind blew more branches and leaves around) prepped for winter. Not to mention we built a fence, removed seven trees, thinned dozens of overgrown shrubs, and removed some invasive blackberries!

Freezer is packed with a month's worth of prepared meals or partially-prepped meals. David is particularly grateful for that accomplishment.

Nursery is clean and organized (for now).

Our co-sleeper (more like porta-crib) that my grandpa built is ready to go.

More importantly, I have officially (finally!) finished sewing the bumper for this co-sleeper. That I had started a month before Samuel was born. And hadn't touched since until about a month ago. I love how it turned out, don't you?

The bathrooms are clean, floors are vacuumed and swept...for now.

The washing machine is deep cleaned. The fridge is cleaned. The oven and microwave are cleaned.

Don't look behind my appliances though...you might find that I have yet to clean back there. :)

House is dusted. Most of the windows are washed.

Air ducts have been professionally cleaned. Furnace was serviced.

Smoke and CO detectors have been installed. Fire extinguishers are in place.

We have a new retractable drying rack, and an auto-on light switch in our mud room so I am not fumbling with the baby, groceries and shoe removal all in the dark. So nice!

Our hospital bags are packed.

The car seat (so adorable!!) is ready to bring home a baby.

Wow. We're going to be bringing home a baby.... another strange concept. This may be my second pregnancy, my second child, but these last few weeks and anticipating the weeks ahead...nothing like the first. It's like this is my first baby all over again. And you know, I guess I've been saying that all along. But now it's real. Now I'm really going to experience the firsts in the way I had always planned, hoped and prayed for.

Other than the giant baby part. The giant baby is a little alarming, though not surprising considering the daddy's contribution ;-)

While the To-Do list is pretty much done (save making an adorable mobile, finish sewing my last four receiving blankets, and finishing some art work for the nursery...all of which may not get done until after Chickadee is born), I am still working on preparing myself for meeting this little one. I would love to find to the courage to share more with you about how I have been coping with the upcoming change. How I've been managing my grief...I wish I didn't have to include grieving on my to-do list.

Scaring the Pregnant Mama: Listeriosis

Yep. A real live listeriosis scare in my very own home. And let me tell you, pregnancy hormones intensify such scares to the red zone on that nasty little fear-o-meter. Add in a history of losing an infant just over a year ago you can make a pretty solid bet on my sanity going completely out the window. My fear-o-meter just cracked under pressure. I am in full blown neurotic-grieving-mother-mode.

SERIOUSLY Costco?!?! Your solution is that I can return my nectarines for a full refund?! I bought and ate those nectarines a month ago. Nectarines are perishable, you know. Yes, I recycled the box already. Again, it was a month ago and I can't have clutter in my tiny little home. Oh, you aren't able to tell me the lot number of the item I purchased on June 24 at your specific store? You only have the packing warehouse identification number. Right. That's not helpful based on the information you have made available to the public. I have the specific item number. I have the date purchased. I have the numbers of the countless lots that may have been contaminated. And you cannot confirm whether or not my specific purchase was part of that lot delivered on that specific date?

Perhaps I should be more irritated with Wawona Packing Company. After all. They recalled six weeks worth of fresh produce (among other packaged goods). Fresh produce perishes after two weeks--in the fridge! People have long since eaten that produce, dear packing company. It is too late. The damage has been done. Sure, no cases have yet been reported. But maybe you aren't aware that listeria is a nasty, sneaky little bugger. Sometimes, it just lives in your system silently, no symptoms whatsoever. Listeria isn't really harmless to the every-day person, no. But a baby? A pregnant woman with a compromised immune system? YES. This is a very. big. deal.

My baby could be silently suffering and consequently be born prematurely. Have I mentioned I am 23 weeks pregnant? Or worse, born still. Another baby dead. Another baby lost.

For now, I will wait and see the approach my midwife would like to take. Shall we run a blood test, confirming whether or not I have the bacteria in my blood stream, affecting my baby? Or shall we trust that because I have shown no symptoms--stomach problems (other than the usual pregnancy calamities), severe headaches, stiff neck, confusion, or convulsions--my fruit happened to be clean from listeria, and therefore all is well? So happy to have one more worry for my list. Because you know, that list just wasn't long enough before I received the recall notice.

I would have never in a million years thought eating a well-rounded diet of fresh fruits and vegetables during pregnancy could potentially jeopardize the health, no the LIFE of my baby. Thank goodness I wash everything.

Lord Jesus, take my heart and fill it with peace. Take my worries and lay them to rest. I cannot carry these worries alone. And dearest Samuel, pray for your mama. She's a bit of a wreck right now.  

How Does Your Garden Grow

Mary, Mary, quite contrary

How does your garden grow?

With silver bells and cockle shells

And pretty maids all in a row.

Most of my yard is, well, cringe-worthy. It is overgrown. Over-shaded. No room to run around. And weeds. And old brush just shoved in corners by previous owners. And bamboo. uuuuuuuughhh...the bamboo.  

BUT. As I have allowed the yard to 'just be' for this first year, I have discovered some real delights that affirm my decision to be patient. My garden grows and changes with every passing week and I learn to appreciate what we do have, and refine my plans for the ultimate landscaping face lift. A few favorites as of late:

My hydrangea. My pride and joy. And she took no care at all. She just...bloomed! Now if only she was more attractive come winter (naked twigs are not my idea of attractive). Perhaps I'm asking too much.

And apparently this is a yucca. How fun this that? Soooo tall, though this picture does not indicate that fact. I must get around to staking it upright. The poor thing is really too big for its own good!

Over on the south west side of my house I have this GORGEOUS row of crocosmia. Favorite. Color. Ever. More please!!

Our giant redwood out front is the real showstopper. It is at least 120 feet tall. We believe it is original to the house (as is ALL of our landscaping). But it is dirty, shedding its needles late-summer through fall. Furthermore, its ginormous self blocks the sunlight from our entire house. Fortunately we can safely limb up the branches another 10 feet, hopefully allowing in more light.

One last little delight: wild blackberries! Blackberries are very much a weed. In fact, we plan to remove most of them because they are simply too invasive. But for now, they are producing something delicious. No where near ready to pick. Plenty of flowers and green berries. A bit more time and the berries will be perfect for pie, coffee cake and smoothies. Maybe I'll even make some ice cream!

Never stop learning: Adventures in cooking fish

Never. Ever. Stop. Learning.

Hubby was experimenting with his new camera accessory, a flash. :)

What is life but a stagnant pool if you cannot gain more information and explore new things? I much prefer a river that is full of sudden bends and rapids, mystery and adventure. I have never been one shy to ask "why" or "how." Ever. In fact--I chuckle as I recall this little encounter--when I was a retail clerk at Michael's Arts & Crafts the summer after my freshman year of college, a co-worker commented on this exact point of my temperament: "You will go so far in life as long as you keep asking all those questions of yours!" It had never occurred to me to approach life in any other way. If I had a question, ask! Looking back I can certainly see the benefits of this desire to gain clarification, knowledge, insight.  

In the past month or two, I decided to finally learn how to cook fish. I had purchased some wild Alaskan cod back in March (it was flash-frozen, don't worry!) that I had yet to touch, nervous about wasting money if I cooked the fish poorly. Plus, I had only just started eating seafood in the past three years so I was a bit squeamish at the idea of cooking it myself. Perhaps the only reason I started enjoying seafood was because other people cooked it well? Nevertheless, I mustered up the confidence to give it a go. After due diligence in research of course. Blog after blog, and tip after tip. Reading how to ensure the best end product. All very necessary. And all very worth it. The cod was a great success! I marinated (lime juice, oil, seasonings) then grilled it. Oh. Yum! My dearest David is such a trooper when I experiment in the kitchen, and fortunately he enjoyed this experiment very much. So much so that I'll be cooking it up for the in-laws when they come to visit in a few weeks. Yes. Hint, hint in-laws.

This week...oh, this week. I am still salivating in delight over here just thinking about my new found love. Copper river salmon. 

Photo by Ken Lambert / Seattle Times

If you've never had copper river salmon (I had not), let me give you a teensy bit of background. Copper river sockeye salmon is harvested but once a year. These fish migrate from the head of the 300 mile-long Copper River in Alaska down to the Pacific Ocean where they are caught and sent to market immediately (fresh or flash-frozen). Because of their long journey, they grow bigger and stronger than any other salmon, developing this deep, rich flavor (super-packed with omega-3s!) unlike any other salmon variety. The fish are only available for 6-8 weeks every year, and will cost you a pretty penny. At the beginning of the season Costco was selling them for $18.99/lb. Oy vey. I could not justify spending that kind of money on one package of protein. However, for whatever reason just this last weekend Costco had reduced the price of Copper River Salmon to, get this: $9.99/lb!! 

Still, I have never, ever, EVER spent that much on protein for my family. Ever. We buy our meat live from local farmers my extended family knows. We butcher it ourselves (or, in the case of a beef, we have it butchered). And ultimately store it in the chest freezer. Our beef cuts--including prime rib, tenderloin (you know, filet mignon) and rib eye steaks, etc.--cost about $6/lb. after it's all said and done. Pork is about $1.25/lb (or less). Lamb is just around $2.00/lb. This animal protein is consistently cheaper than purchasing the equivalent at the store--especially if I were hoping to get similar quality!--and definitely cheaper than purchasing fish. 

But sometimes, it's just time to expand one's horizons. David loves, loves, loves, loves, LOVES salmon. I should clarify: he loves wild Alaskan salmon. None of this farmed Atlantic stuff. Sorry East coast. We used to enjoy the plentiful local restaurants serving PNW cuisine, which of course features Alaskan salmon. But since we've purchased our home, our financial priorities have changed. We don't eat out like we used to. And we certainly don't seek out the high-end local restaurants as regularly (i.e. bi-monthly) like we used to. So David has been missing salmon just a wee bit. When I saw this price for copper river at Costco...oh man. We could have 8 servings for just $25!! That was less than one person's meal at a top-rated restaurant! Ok then. Apparently I needed to learn how to cook salmon. And I was going to take a huge risk by purchasing one of the most expensive salmons out there as my first ever salmon dish. 

A few days before purchasing I researched various methods and recipes. I had never been fond of fish grilled on tin foil and I hadn't found much delight in oven-baked fish either. So I could smoke the thing (would need to acquire a smoker...not really worth it), pan-fry it (too hot these days, and greasy), or grill it on a cedar plank. I had never grilled anything on a cedar plank. This would also be new territory for me. So of course I proceeded to research this method. 

Yes, that is a broken cutting board on which our hot-off-the-grill plank sits.
It's called resourcefulness.

Grilling on cedar plank:

I learned I needed to soak the untreated plank (which you can buy at your local Home Depot, or at any home goods store in the grilling section) in water for 30 minutes up to 24 hours prior to cooking. I also learned that I needed to remove the plank and food from the direct heat in the event the plank catches fire. Catching the plank on fire would be something to avoid, yes. Definitely don't do that. To avoid catching the plank on fire a good soak is necessary (ok, note to self: soak for 24 hours) and a medium/medium low indirect temp on a clean grill is key. Okay, clean the grill thoroughly, soak the plank thoroughly, cook on medium/medium low over indirect heat. Got it. 

Cooking the salmon: 

I now needed a recipe. Lemon always seemed like a good flavor for fish, or a sweet Asian marinade. Searching...searching...(oh Pinterest, how I love thee)...finally. Came across a recipe with two complementary sauces that intrigued my palate's imagination: Cedar-Planked Salmon with Mustard-Dill Sauce. The first sauce is basted onto the fish as it cooks. The second is served with the fish as an accompaniment. David isn't a huge fan of mustard, though, and this had a hint of Dijon mustard. Hmmm. Question posed: David answered. Let's try it. Oh, I how love our adventures!

Look at that beautiful result! And the taste? Is copper river salmon actually better than your year-round wild Alaskan salmon? I'm not sure my limited experience makes me worthy of making this comparison, but I can say that this was the most decadent salmon I have ever tasted. Rich, melt-in-your mouth decadence. I think the cooking method and recipe only enhanced this beautiful fish, even though my plank did happen to catch fire for a brief moment. Oops! Just adding a bit of rustic, home-made flare, right? Not only was this meal "restaurant" worthy, but David and I didn't pay restaurant prices. And...I learned something new! Grilling Salmon 101: I give myself an A. More importantly, I no longer fear cooking fish. 

Oh! And that salad under the salmon a few pictures up, you ask? A Lemon-Cucumber Couscous salad, adapted from Budget Bytes. A favorite easy side dish at our house. Notes: I omitted the feta since I am not eating soft cheeses until Chickadee hatches, and David doesn't particularly care for feta. I also used regular couscous rather than Israeli because it's what I had in my pantry. Finally, I am a fresh-lemon snob (ask my mother), so please please please...just use fresh, not bottled, when you need juice. Thanks! 

Camping: A Summer Kick-Off

Guess whaaaaat? It's summer! Well. Technically. Summer doesn't ever really show up until post-July 4th in the PNW, but we celebrated anyway. With our first camping trip of the year!

Just over a week ago David and I visited beautiful Whidbey Island for a little camping trip with my sister and brother-in-law (remember them from their wedding last summer? So beautiful!). The weather was supposed to be iffy, but ended up being just perfect. Well, almost perfect. The first night I was FREEZING. But that's just lack of preparedness on my part. David assumed I had my little heater box to keep me warm. Not quite yet, my dear.

Every year we try to camp at least once. Last year we managed three trips. Three! I should specify our version of camping. We are tent campers. Not backpackers. Not RVers. Not pop-up-trailer-tenters. Just old fashioned tent campers. We'll find some state park that we're interested in exploring and make reservations at the beginning of spring, pack our multiple tubs of equipment and head out for 3-4 days mid June. In western Washington this is a bit risky considering my opening statement: summer does not really start until on or after July 4th. Nevertheless, we take the risk and plan for rain. Isn't that what all PNWers do?

This trip was by far the most relaxing camping excursion I have ever taken. And I think it was all because of my have-everything-packed-one-week-prior-to-the-trip-so-I-can-make-some-last-minute-store-runs planning. See, it all starts with an Excel spreadsheet. (Go ahead. Pin it! You know you want to ;-) though it's not very pretty...)

This is the source of my sanity for complex excursions. After every trip I come home and add what we forgot to pack, or what would have been nice to have. I know this looks like a lot, but trust me. It is quite simple. All of our supplies fit into four plastic totes with lids. We bought ours at Costco: the 3-pack of clear, 45-quart/11.25-gallon totes with latch-on lids (they are currently out of season; perhaps they will return in the fall?). One tote carried dry food. One tote carried our cooking utensils. One tote carried camping essentials. The last tote carried the left-over randoms. Yes, the randoms. Our cold food and beverages fit in one cooler. Our "big" stuff like our tent, sunshade and camp chairs were easy enough to pack on its own. We also pack a "bed-in-a-bag," which is simply a large duffle bag with our air mattress, sheets, and blankets/sleeping bag. Our pillows are in a separate bag. Both David and I are a wee bit type-A (can you tell??). I am especially so when it comes to packing. I prefer to be concise and efficient. Camping is a tough balance because I wish we could pack less. But when I pack less, I regret leaving something behind. Ah me, the woes of a silly mind. People call these sorts of worries first-world problems, yes? Yep. I can see that.

I spent almost two weeks preparing our food. Baking and cooking different parts of meals ahead of time to freeze it. I had really screwed up last summer and neglected to pack, let alone make cookies for our trip (I also forgot to pack an entire make-ahead pressed sandwich. Forgetful mama with her postpartum brain!). So this time around I made two different kinds of cookies, getting them in the freezer well in advance so I would not be in trouble. Baby has been craving all sorts of sweets lately, so I must oblige, right? ;-) Oh, I know I can't blame baby--not his/her fault. I simply lack self-control. In the middle of my prep, I came down with a bit of a cold, which definitely slowed me down since I could not medicate. I opted to purchase naan and sourdough English muffins instead of making them myself. (Note for future: DON'T buy naan. Unless you are purchasing from a bonafide naan baker, just don't.) I was rather proud of myself for letting go of the reigns...just a bit.

We arrived at the campground Friday evening, no rain in sight! After setting up camp and starting a fire we were able to relax with dinner and good conversation.

This was actually Saturday's dinner. I didn't take pictures Friday night.

Over the weekend we explored the park and all its beauty while soaking in the sun.

My sister and brother-in-law. They really do love each other. I promise.

The ONLY picture of my sister and me from the whole weekend.

Para-sailors were practicing while we ate lunch on the bluff.

Our hike in the morning along the bluff and down to the beach was lovely. I felt great the whole way, though was a tad bit slower than perhaps the others would have preferred. I was feeling so great I forgot I was even pregnant. However, about 10 minutes of bad-mitten after lunch led to a pretty strong Braxton Hicks. Perhaps my body was trying to tell me something? David was a trooper and picked up the slack while I took a little rest.

He played quite well against these two! We all got a bit burnt by mid-afternoon so made our way back to camp. In the shade. Not as beautiful as the sun. But much more protected.

On Sunday we concluded our trip with Mass at a local mission church. It was so tiny and adorable. In fact, the chapel itself was a historical building on the island from when the community was first established. You could tell the community knew we were outsiders! Before David and I headed home, we decided to explore the gun battery at Ft. Casey. Not our first gun battery by any means, but fun to explore nonetheless. David is a military history nerd so you can imagine how these sorts of adventures excite him. "Oh, let's go in here! What's in here? I want to look over there." I fall in love with him all over again when he gets excited. He will be a wonderful example and teacher to our kiddos!

  

 

We arrived home refreshed by this little getaway, even though camping does require more "work" than a typical vacation. Our laundry room no longer smells of campfire (finally). Though I would take campfire smoke to celebrate summer any day!