Saturday, May 26, 2012

May is Almost over!

It has been a wild ride the past four months, this three littles thing. In other words, three children in 4 years (and 1 month), kicking our behinds. It was not what we set out for, we wouldn't necessarily have chosen it, but we wouldn't trade it for the world! It is this wild, unsettling, some times (okay, a lot) chaotic ride. We are enjoying our three little people so very much. Even on the days where if seems like some one is always (and I mean ALWAYS) talking, crying, whining, humming, saying my name over and over, wailing, grunting...There is always always noise... commotion...Movement...and NOISE!

Fun times.

I thought I would update us on life.

ROO:

4 Years and 5 months old: She can write her entire name...And almost any word if you tell her what order to write the letters (in other words, she knows all her letters!). She can skip with both feet, summersault head of heels over and over and over. She is learning to jump rope...And she still loves to hula hoop and can keep it going for almost a minute when she is "in the zone". :0) She can some times hit a ball with a bat when Daddy throws for her and she loves to run and dance- and be active.


She is, as always, a sweet empathetic and thoughtful person. But she is coming into her own more and more...She has new boundary lines that won't be crossed (with her younger sister especially). She has new concepts that she is exploring and boundaries she is pushing. In other words? This is a bit of a challenging stage. On the flip side, she has an insatiable curiosity. I struggle to embrace her favorite word "WHY", to help her find answers (or give them to the best of my ability!). She likes to talk and often has a constant stream of information she seems to be processing.
A new side of Roo is coming out, a quiet introspective side. She likes activities that allow her to sit and think. She prefers to be at home with her magnadoodle, markers, crayons and oodles of paper.


The girl could draw all day. She loves any thing "crafty" especially if it involves glue and pain and glitter! She is friendly and thoughtful, organized and intentional...As always enamored by her new baby sister and would kiss her all day long if she could. It is so fun to see new angles of her personality.

Friendly: 2 years and 9 months (and change).
Oh this girl!!!!

This picture sums it up better:
This Best...

Or perhaps this gives you a peek...

She is a character. She... She loves to wrestle...She is strong in every way.. Loud in every way (sadness, anger, joy...she is ALL out there!), She can gallop, she loves to dance, crack jokes (she has an uncanny sense of humor for 2!), she is starting to draw (or try to) different shapes, she knows all her colors and recognizes many of her letters and numbers, she loves to dress up any thing shiny or frilly she is all into it!

She marches around in these too-big "fancy" shoes with necklaces and bracelets galore. She is very gentle and loving with her baby sister, loves to snuggle and hold Pip and spends every afternoon after her nap snuggling with her.


 She loves to be out and about...Loves playing with other children. She has also recently really gotten into being read to (the whole book, not just a page...Very satisfying). She gets really into the stories. She likes stories especially about little children like her, learning new things. Both girls have recently discovered a love of "books on tape" - it has made nap time a cozy daily ritual of putting on their favorite story (Katie and the Big Snow).

They both also love to help around the house...Their favorite "chore" is hanging up the cloth diapers for me.
The also enjoy unloading the silverware out of the dishwasher (they do a better job with that). :0D

PiP
4 Months Old today!
What to say about our amazing baby? She is TEETHING sooo HARD! She has her front incisors and eye teething coming in and she is chewing on every thing furiously. But apart from the teeth making it a bit hard for her to fall asleep, she is doing so well. She is such a little lover. She loves her sisters. She is rolling both ways well and getting around "inch worm style" when left on the floor. She is also sitting independently (though topples so needs to be on a soft surface!)
She is a grinny, happy, deep little person


Some other favorite pictures from this month...





We switched bedrooms! The girls have the larger bedroom, and more play space now!

Playing with baby sister!

Quiet Puzzle Play

 
baby in a bag


My First Mother's Day Card addressed by one my children (with real  letters)

Making Dirt Angels...Guess whose idea this was?



3 Months and 2 weeks

Sissy Love

She loves to play with toys!
Rainy Day Play



My Status update from that day: 
 A walk in the pouring rain, to "jump in puddles" with a 3 mos old (in carrier), 2 littles, and 3 umbrellas - during rush hour (lots of buses and cars): not my brightest idea ever. Like herding a bunch of blind and deaf ducks through a logging river.

We were safe...we were painfully slow...we got soaked...we had fun. Next time the umbrellas stay home #nervewracking


So... I think I am caught up!!

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

80/20 Diet...Erm, Parenting.

I guess you could say that I am a person of high ideals. I had this idea of motherhood, ideals for myself, what I would be..what my kids would be.

This last year, parenting has been hard. Mainly because my kids have challenged my ideals...or should I say, reality has.


balance
I remember when Roo was a young toddler, how many big thoughts, theories and ideals I had for my parenting journey. I had a lot of "I would nevers" as well as some, "I will always" on my list. I can't say I had many "My kids would/will nevers..." on my list, because of Roo's babyhood (she was high needs) I knew there wasn't much I could control about THEM.
 But my list for me went something like...
I would never hit [aka spank] my kids...
 I would never yell like that...
 I will always put my kids developmental stages in perspective...
 I will never just hand out a punishment with out getting the big picture...
oh yeah, I will never punish...natural and logical consequences only!
 I will always be respectful of my children, they are people and deserve my respect.

  In my deeply set and untried convictions, I stood (self) righteous.

And then reality slapped me in the face

The grueling work the under 5 crew. The constant needs, demands, tantrums...The feelings of failure, frustration, shock, anger. The roller coaster that is one hour in the day. The constant-ness that is being a Mom of toddlers. Especially if youronly vocation IS caring for your kids. Add some pregnancy hormones and eventually a baby wedged in and pressing down there...And ultimately learning to balance life with a newborn: yikes. Reality bites.


 Humility steps in, and you are covered with the realization that reality and convictions aren't black and white. You'll make mistakes in moments you never could have fathomed. You'll wonder if you and your children will come out on the other side of this infuriating and exhausting stage with your relationship intact. If they will remember the hours you spent on walks enjoying their company and funny amazing thoughts. The hours of playdoh, the books read together, the trips to the playground. Will they remember, you wonder, if the hours of your voice singing to them in the dark of their room? You sang and sang, while they tossed and turned, and your voice went hoarse.

Or will they remember when you lost it and yelled for the 5th time that morning...When you screamed at them, when you totally knew better, and wanted to do better.

In the very bad weeks, you wonder why the heck you signed up for this. And start to question if there is a better way...You run through all the scenarios, all the things you could change.. Go back to work, keep them home, have Daddy become the stay at home parent. And its always good to reevaluate regularly, to get perspective.

But maybe, you need to swallow the humble pie and the lessons learned. The biggest lesson being, you need some grace too.

I think I've failed all my "I would nevers". I see, looking back, my pride  I am not one to judge in a black and white sense. But in my mushy grey way, I would make judgements. I would feel sad for the poor unenlightened parent. And then reality wore me down, dealing with the same mind numbing and frustrating scenarios day after day...Night after molar-teething-sleep-deprivation-torture after molar-teething-sleep-deprivation-torture night.

The reality? We can't judge anyone... I know we want something concrete. We, or I should be using *I* for all of my yous (but I wanna hide and hope I'm not alone, okay?)..I want to know This is how it IS. You do X...You get Y. But children aren't math equations, and some days just suck.

 Some times you just snap. Damn the tool box!!! BAH! to respect!  This kid is driving me CRAZY!!! And you fail, big time.


My point... you can focus on your failures, or you can celebrate your triumphs.

Celebrate the times where you handled the squabble with your preschoolers in a hands off respectful way. The time you all walked away with new knowledge and prepared for the next time.

Celebrate the fact that your 4 year old trusts you enough to tell you to "take a breath" when she can see you're frustrated. And you do, and you strengthen relationship instead of demean. 

Celebrate when you remember to breath and slow down and embrace the chaos.

When you listen first and speak softly.

Celebrate getting through a bad day, even if the only thing you have is that tomorrow is a, "fresh day with no mistakes in it". Don't worry about the "yet"!

Hold your ideals. But in the end,  LOVE. Celebrate love. And love other parents you see struggling. Love them and keep your judgmental thoughts in check. Love them, because that's where they are at in that moment.

It is because of love that our kiddos are so forgiving. Their forgiveness blows me away. Your fumbling and bumbling wont break it...If you're doing your best to love.

It's kind of like a good diet. They say if you eat 80% really great stuff, you will still thrive when 20% not so great is present.

I'm applying that to parenting. 80% love and 20% grace. You're doing a great job.

Keep loving...yourself too!

Breath.
Take time for yourself.
When all else fails, use TV.
Kidding.

Not.
The end.

Who couldn't lovethis?

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Remembering...

Today is 8 years since that traumatic day. It was a beautiful sunny and especially warm San Francisco Sunday. I had just had an extra special -emotionally draining morning at a church in the Castro. Little did I know how spent the end of the day would really find me. I remember the call...my Moms frantic voice..."I couldn't wake your Father..He just wouldn't wake up ...I'm following the ambulance ...I'll call soon." I remember, numb. Tears. Prayers. Hugs. Packing. Crying all night long o. Flights...zombie walking and waiting in Airports My Daddy was in a coma. My life ended that day... I came home to ICU waiting rooms, family and friends waiting, tubes, respirators. Staples in his skull. I planned to stay 6 months...take my Dad to treatments to be home base ..help where I could. I never returned to SF. Hubs happened ...Roo happened. Friendly...and eventually Pip too. But in the middle, there was Jacob..he was still in me this time last year, our last few hours together before the pain started...and he left me, this itty bitty ...well I won't get graphic in his departure. I miss my baby. I miss my Dad, especially watching sweet Pip and wishing he was here with my Mom spoiling his 3 grandgirls. The anniversary of his diagnosis always hits me harder than that if his actual death. It feels even harder now with the anniversary of baby J. But if anything it drives home the comforting truth...he is getting one of his enjoy his grandbabies. I hope he's giving baby J a kiss with his tickaly beard, and I hope he knows how much they are both missed.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Just Keep Swimming...

It's Friday...Friday...

Okay I won't go there. But I am definitely looking forward to the weekend. 

Ahem.
I made it through my first week of over-time..erm... of hubs working over time. Those 11 hour days with the kids, brutal. By Friday evening I am struggling with perspective. Really, finding perspective seems to be the story of my life right now...

And it does come to me... There is nothing like watching Roo girl with Pip. NOTHING. The child is infatuated, twitterpated. She also can't wait until Pip is big enough to play with, and some times forgets to be as gentle as is necessary...But all in all, their interaction (Pip smiles her way the most!) It's beautiful. 

This one is having a bit more of a hard time with a baby in the house... 2.5years is a hard spacing, I wouldn't change it, but I hope to never repeat it. That said Friendly truely LOVES the baby...She is very gentle with the baby. She spends a lot of time with me and the baby. She loves to rub her cheeks against Pips head. She loves to help me burp "our baby". But it is a challenge to find the emotional energy for this very outward thinking little person. And I have been having an especially challenging time because Pip isn't exactly an "easy" baby. 

5 weeks old
She's not a screamer, and for that I will be eternally grateful. My ears, emotions, and soul can't handle that. But she knows what she wants...My kind of girl. And what does she want? Milk. Quiet. And stillness...Yes, stillness. She doesn't take well to being moved when she's at the tap (so to speak). I can't nurse her in a sling like I did with Friendly as a newborn...I can't really move at all with out her popping off and screaming (and my milk then spraying her in the face and dripping all over the place). She loves milk and snuggles and she doesn't like all the up and around that is required of Mommie with her newly 4 year old and a 2.5 year old needing me too. 

This too shall pass, right?

I am so thankful she isn't a screamer. But her fussing and pouty lip, her frustrated nursing when she is overtired...Not easy. I do my best to be responsive, but I gotta say- I doubt I'm bringing any "attachment parenting" awards home. 

This girly likes it CHILL...Our house is so not chill. I also need to say, I am so thankful she's not my first. The hours she fusses at the breast (and she has several hours of the day - though not  a set time like the other girls- where she is FUSSY about her milk) I think I would have thought some thing was wrong. SO thankful for my hard experiences with Roo and that I know all babies have different styles of fussy nursing... But glad I haven't experienced this caliber until #3...Okay, maybe not. 

Where was I? Oh, Perspective. It's hard to keep it in place. It's hard to face your limits. To accept where you're at, and hope for a smoother path ahead. 

This postpartum time has been such a gift. Hunkering down with my kids and keeping life very basic, taking this winter time to be home and reflect and adjust...It's been really good for me. I am so glad it's not the height of spring and I'm out running around. I need this time to process. 

I am seeing new things about my girls...Like, Roo and I do so much better in our interactions (and attitudes towards eachother) when we can enjoy each other outdoors. We both thrive on that. 

I am also seeing how very similar we are, she's a hard little nut to crack and I am seeing her with different lenses lately. I think we're so much a like we confuse each other some times. More on that another time.

For now, I'm enjoying our slow pajama days... staying ahead of the sleep deprivation...And taking it easy when I feel it might catch me. I'm thankful they are all so close together in age: that no one is needing me to take them to school, or rush them off to extracurricular activities. 



It's just us in our bubble, and that's been nice. 

But ... Spring is coming....

I can't wait...

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Unconditional Love...Ponderings on Raising Our Children, Raising Ourselves... Part ONE

"Parenting is a path of maturation and growth if we dare to learn more and teach less."
~Naomi Aldort

I have been working my way through the book, Raising Our Children, Raising Ourselves: Transforming parent-child relationships from reaction and struggle to freedom, power and joy by Naomi Aldort

I gotta say, this book is challenging my socks off. I am only a few chapters into the book and I have been humbled and challenged. I struggle with feelings. I have had a LOT of growth over the last 5 years. I have gone from a very emotionally constipated person, to some one who can generally accept all my feelings (small and nice, big and ugly) with maturity. But it's a slow process, and I generally need some time to work them out internally. I still struggle in the heat of the moment, especially if other people are having a lot of feelings too.

Which leads me to my children... Their feelings overwhelm me. I am not making excuses for myself, but I can see from a logical side why this is, personality. One of the unique things about my personality type (MyersBriggs: INFj) is that I can be an emotional sponge. Some might say God gave me an extra giant dose of empathy...I literally feel what they feel. When they get sick, I physically feel their pain (or nausea, or aches). When they have big feelings, and I am in a place where I haven't taken enough time for myself to process and work out some "backed up" feelings of my own...When I am already struggling to work every thing out, or at least do damage control, I can't handle what they are feeling. I almost feel a bit of panic, like it's personal. They are dumping more on me! I don't want to know! I want it to stop NOW!! And I don't mean maybe. I shut down my empathy mode completely and become hard. In order to protect myself my main emotion becomes anger. Often times I just lose it, I get loud. I try to scare them (not on purpose, but when I step away this is essentially what I'm doing!) I demand that they stop feeling. STOP!!! I can't handle your feelings, I can't handle MINE right now- I don't like them. And those noises you are making are HORRIFIC. CUT IT OUT!!!!!!!
 
It's every thing I didn't want for my children. I want to raise emotionally healthy adults. People who know how to accept and handle their feelings appropriately. Adults who don't "stuff" and ignore their feelings until they are so constipated that they lose it.

I'm not really accomplishing  that goal right now. At all.

And with two (well...three but she's a bitty yet!) VERY passionate, strongly individual, and extremely emotional girls...We have a LOT, and I mean a LOT, of feelings flying around in an hour..Let alone a day!
 
  I'm not going to defend myself here, or explain away bad parenting. Let's just say- there is grace- and I want to make changes.

Which leads to me lessons I'm learning from having a newborn in the house.
This peanut feels a lot. Even in her sleep her face is the full spectrum of expressions...When she's in light sleep grimaces, smiles, frowns, scowls, and pouty lips all run across her face in the matter of seconds.

I don't get angry at her for crying. I love to make her feel safe and happy. I can't make her stop her feelings, even if I wanted to! She is what she is, and it's a joy to hold her and take care of her. And even when she's upset and I can't help her- it's frustrating, but I never feel angry or like I'm doing some thing wrong (it's nice to be a 3rd time Mom! I like how much more relaxed I am...Just sayin).

But when she's up at 4a.m. crying because she is a bit gassy and needs to poop (hey, every body does it!) and I can't make it happen. I'm at peace, I'm tired, and wish I could do it for her...But I'm at peace. When did I lose that? When did I lose that unconditional love for my older two?

And what steps do I need to take to get it back?


And that's where I'm being challenged. Over the next several posts I'd like to explore practical ways that this is playing out (internally and externally) in my life.

More to come in Part TWO

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Potpartum Recovery; Third Time Around the Block...

I can't believe Piper is a week old! This past week has been my favorite. Don't get me wrong... I'm sore. My stomach muscles ache, after pains have been intense (they say they get harder with every baby, it's true...whoa!), and my goodness- milk coming in- my body doesn't joke around! As my wonderful husband put it, "I wouldn't want to ship those things!" (yes, he works in shipping and receiving...his idea of a joke...He's lucky I actually found that both horrifying and funny). This week has been kind of: a new pain every day. But oh my goodness, I've been enjoying it.


One of the things that was really important to me this time was recovery. Getting time to let my body recover and REALLY rest.

My first baby: a cesarean birth... Followed abruptly 3 days pp by a horrific cold and sore throat. Ryan returned to work a few days after we left the hospital ...And I was alone, with a newborn, and a cold, and a giant ugly stapled and bruise horribly painful belly. And stairs: lots of stairs. Add to that gall bladder attacks keeping me up all night every night for weeks and weeks (barfing on a cesarean incision: Horrible doesn't even start to describe...Why weeks and weeks? I thought I had developed reflux... went on meds for reflux...The pain [thanks to the pregnancy shifting things] wasn't presenting in the "gall bladder" area of my body...live and learn).  But the pregnancy had been so miserable I just wanted to get back to normal... I was out shopping at Target 4 days postpartum... I landed myself in the hospital for a week 10 weeks in because I was taking such rotten care of myself. My liver was failing and I had to have 2 surgeries.  Oh, and I caught the flu there. Coughing (with the flu!) on both a fairly fresh c/s incision and on 4 new (laproscopic, but still) incisions on my abdomen. HELL.
3 weeks later I was travelling and bowling...By 6 mos out I was BURNT OUT. By 12 mos postpartum, I was beyond burnt out and 2 months pregnant with #2.

Would I learn?

I thought I had. But I hadn't.

 With Friendly, my first vaginal birth, OIYE. Imagine giving birth for the first time, and having a 1 year old to take care of. While Ryan was home for the first week and my Mom was around the second week- at least part of the time. I was just not in a great place recovery wise. I was up and around with in a day or two- my bleeding was extremely heavy... I felt very alone and isolated. It took me MONTHS to feel recovered, especially down there. And I hadn't torn (though Friendly had left a giant "skid mark" up internally - probably from her hand coming down)!

After that experience I promised myself, never again...My body deserves rest after that hard work. I deserve to be alone to process and prepare for the intense weeks ahead (aka when real life returns and we start to find the "new normal").

I insisted (and my husband fully supports) that I get 2 weeks to lay in bed and rest and recover.
This first week has been heavenly... I have done nothing but lay in bed and nurse my baby...and also hang out with my bigger kiddos.

Next week will be a bit more patchy as Ryan has to get some hours in at work. My Mom will be filling in where he has to be gone... And I might have to kind of ease into real  life a bit more...But I intend to soak up the rest and bed-time until then.

I know this isn't an option for most Mama's today... And I know culturally people ask me 'WHY?'...Others say "pregnancy isn't a disease, women squat in the field- give birth - and head right back to work all the time."

And you know what- after giving birth to Piper: I can see how that is possible. I feel fantastic...Okay, I'm sore...But if I had to go back to harvesting a field- I could do it.

But I also feel like, sure that happens- but is it BEST? I know I'm not under Old Testament Law, but I think it's very interesting how big and strict of a guide line God laid out for His people when it comes to the postpartum period: He said Boy: 33 days of rest. Girl: 66 days of rest.

During this time the women, from what I undertand, were to be cared for and kept off in her tent, any one who touched her was also ceremonially unclean for a certain numbers of days. I don't know a ton about it...I'd be very interested to hear more in how this was practically carried out. And obviously that isn't necessary anymore. But I think there is some thing to be said for how God views this special time: birth is hard work and women not only need, but deserve, rest. A time where she isn't required (she's not allowed!) to be places or running around. He built it into their very culture. 

All that to say, I feel great...And I have had to be intentional with this time to stay down even (despite minor aches and soreness) when I feel good. This is my personal conviction. My instincts are screaming: your body deserves this investment. I can't literally take 66 days to "lay in my tent". But I'm going to take 14-18days and lay low. I will ignore the mess, I will not cook every day (or at all, right now), I will let my children run around half naked and watch TV as much as they like. I will allow the laundry to remain in unfolded piles- at least it's clean! I will shield my eyes from messes, I will ask for help when they get to be too much, and I embrace this season with a newborn.  I was in a sleep deprived and very bad place with my last two babies. My family suffers when I am not at my best... They do not suffer when I say "I need this time, what can we do to meet every ones needs?"...And that will look different day to day...It will definitely mean a lot of me parenting from a seated or reclined position.


I was afraid of appearing weak with my other two babies... Of looking like birth was too hard for me...Like I couldn't bounce back. And you know what? Birth IS hard for me...I (in the past) haven't bounced back well... Sure, I can't wait to get back to chasing after my kids (after months of being super pregnant, holidays, laboring for weeks - I miss the old "us"ness), to going to parks and on adventures, to feeling normal and "back to normal"...I can't wait for every thing to get back to normal. But to really go into the next new (big) season of my life: I need to set this intention. I deserve to rest. To lay in bed nursing my new baby and watching netflix and reading. I deserve this time- after doing the biggest hardest thing a human can do: build a baby in less than a year: and then birth it!): I deserve rest...I need to prepare.

And so I am.

She said it best when it comes to postpartum recovery. over at The Leaky B@@b: A Time To Heal

I look back at my first two babies and I feel sad...I wish I had some one tell me to "chill out...relax...the cleaning, laundry, projects, and running around can wait...BE with your baby, they grow SO fast...And your body needs the rest NOW...This isn't a sprint! Baby's first year is a marathon of work."
we're just a little in love!!
I am embracing this time with Piper...Even when the trash is overflowing, or the sink is full of dirty dishes (life happens!)...I am going to walk away...And snuggle and sniff my newborn, and read books and snuggle my big babies and really be present ...Really  try and be super present..Because I'll blink and it will be passed...Really.

I'm just going to chill out.


Friday, January 27, 2012

The Peaceful Birth of Piper Joy...A Journey

If you want to skip to the birth story, go to part 6. :0)

I wanted to start this with a disclaimer:
I struggled with a lot of fears in all my pregnancies..Let me rephrase that, I wasn't afraid of any thing in my first pregnancy. I had been raised in a home where child birth was an exciting and normal thing. My Mom had 5 relatively cut and dry vaginal births. I was born at home. I knew I was capable of natural birth, and nothing else was really an option.  A cesarean birth was never something I thought I would ever experience. I was unprepared for the machine that is most large teaching hospitals. I went through every intervention in the book. I ended up with a cesarean.
With that cut across my abdomen, a whole new world of fears was opened to me. Fears I ignored and wrestled through with my first VBAC baby. And finally truly faced this pregnancy. I finally found healing. Is there more to do? Always.
 I mention cesarean birth in negative terms, because my experience was very negative. I also mention baby loss, and death, things that I experienced or I saw become reality for others. I also share the steps I took to find my own personal place of comfort if I were to experience it too. The book Birthing From Within talks a lot about worry and fear. And what a GOOD thing it is, if you use it.
This pregnancy was my journey of learning to use it, explore it, and really walk out all scenarios. It was my discovery of where I needed to be to find peace in whatever - even the unthinkable.  It was really hard, but I explored it...and found healing.
I went from a woman who had lost all trust in the medical establishment.. Some one who (honestly, sadly) would choose a dangerous or unhealthy situation over repeat surgery (not that my first HBAC was that scenario- but had things not gone smoothly, I wonder...) I moved to a place where I could fully embrace the thought of another cesarean birth. I went from never ever, under any circumstances, being okay with a hospital birth again...To planning one, and being 300% ok with whatever that would bring me.

This pregnancy brought me so many gifts. It was a lot of work. I took a lot of time alone and a lot of space. This was my journey, and very personal experience and fears. And its conclusion is part of my story. Each baby brings something unique to a mothers journey...a gift in its own right. My first baby gave me my voice. She taught me to hear my true feelings...that happiness isn't the only emotion, and to speak my mind.
My second baby taught me some times you just have to do some thing scared, and embrace grace and hope for a better season. She also taught me how strong and beautiful my body is. And to respect birth and the process it brings you...And learn from it.
Piper taught me to explore and find what I need to have peace. If I have any more babies in the future I'm sure I'll have other (or more of the same) fears to face...it's about putting one foot in front of the other and finding peace for you, in that season.


In a nut shell: After 27 days of insanity making prodromal labor: Piper Joy was born. January 26, 2012 at 5:55pm 7lbs 6oz and 20inches long.

The Long Version: Part One: Jacob leaves us...And Piper comes too.

To tell this story we need to go back to February 2011. We got pregnant. We lost the baby in March. It...hit me hard. I named him Jacob, and I still miss him. I've had other losses...Big losses, hard losses, my Dad died after a two year battle with brain cancer. He was 49.  It was horrible. I'd even had another early miscarriage. But this one felt like a punch in the gut. That baby belonged to me.
Onto the TMI...
I historically have LONG cycles- especially when breastfeeding (which I was): I'm talking, 40-70 day long cycles...Which means weeks and weeks with out ovulating. Which is both great, and frustrating because: well it's all irregular and you have to be extra vigilant if you're trying to avoid pregnancy.  One April day, just a 11 or 12 days into my first post-loss cycle, I was in the bathroom and had an "oh crap" moment. I was ovulating- like 3 weeks earlier than "usual". And I had allowed a "freebie" (no barrier) a few days before. I just knew it...I was pregnant. And I wasn't ready. At All.

2 weeks later: The dollar store test said it all: Piper was in there. And so started a journey I desperately needed to be on...

Part Two: In Which I Try on Everybody

For my miscarriage care I had used a group of MW's at a FSBC (Free Standing Birth Center) about an hour away. They were who I was planning to use for the pregnancy and birth of Jacob. Through my loss they were great, compassionate, kind, supportive. But when I got pregnant with Piper- it just felt wrong for her birth.
For one thing, I was due in January AKA, dead of winter. The thought of an hour long drive turning into 3 hours in a snow storm, in labor...No thanks.
But I wanted to feel it out, so I called them up at 10 weeks (yes, I was in a bit of denial about the pregnancy...) and asked if they could get me an u/s for dating and for a prenatal ASAP.  They could send me for an u/s, but they couldn't see me until I would be (by my guess) 18 weeks along. After my loss: that just wasn't happening. I needed to have a prenatal care. Pregnancy after a loss is just different, especially if you found yourself expecting before you were "ready" (are you ever ready?).

Important note: have a scar on my uterus from the cesarean birth of my first baby (Riley Joy) 4 years ago. Which means doctors are a little more funny about "due" dates.  I didn't want any one pushing an arbitrary due date on me, or trying to get my baby out sooner than needed. I wanted to have my behind covered. Even though I was fairly certain on the date (or at least week) of conception- I wanted to have a piece of paper to prove it.

We went and saw "Newby" (Piper's in utero nickname) healthy and busy measuring 10 weeks- just like I thought. I can't say the relief that flooded me when I finally saw her moving around on the screen..I think it was the first time I started crying at an u/s (I'm just not one to cry like that).

I was starting to feel more accepting of the pregnancy, and felt like I needed prenatal care and support ASAP. A good friend of mine mentioned a HB MW out of R (city) that was fantastic and had 3 HBAC (home birth after a cesarean) herself. I had met this MW at an ICAN meeting and just remembered really liking her. I called D (the MW) and asked her some questions...But she was also an hour away- and her back up provider was almost 2 hours away. I decided to walk away and find some one else.

I called up the HB MW I used for my first VBAC baby (Amity Joy)...We had a few prenatals, I even went ahead and secured her for the birth. But some thing wasn't sitting right. Again, she was over an hour away and the January thing wasn't sitting well for me- what if it snowed and she couldn't make it? But more than that, I just wasn't having a peace about the birth.

I called D back (this was a few months after our last talk) because her name was on my heart- I don't know why I wanted her at the birth...Or maybe- she was the catalyst - and my heart knew that? Anyway, she said she couldn't take me on, due to client load. But that her good friend J (another MW- who had been apprenticing and assisting in the area for a few years and was now taking on clients) was located very close to me. D recommended I give her a call and maybe meet up. I did... And J was perfect for us. Ryan (hubby) and I were so impressed by her and we knew she was right for this birth. I don't think I even asked her that many clinical (what's your experience, bla bla bla) questions (I'm friends with a lot of doulas in the area and had gathered enough info about her to be impressed and excited). I just knew she was who I needed. We hired her at 27 weeks into the pregnancy.

Part Three: In which I'm scared to do some thing I have to do.

Losing Jacob changed some thing for me...I tasted a little bit of what it means to lose a child. Some thing that hit even closer to home as I had become heavily involved in my local ICAN (International Cesarean Awareness Network) chapter and was fairly plugged in (albeit, more vicariously through good friends) to the "birth community"... I was hearing a lot of the crazy stuff that was going on in my general area. Defacto bans at hospitals... Forced/court ordered cesareans...Mothers being treated badly/disrespectfully in hospital situations when they transferred in from a home birth for hospital care. Crazy sad, messed up things were trickling around. And that was locally, nationally I was hearing even more crazy and heart breaking stuff (thank you, internet).  Over the previous18mos period I was, for the first time, really being exposed to some hard realities: babies dying. Ugly things happening, Add to that, the grief I felt over my little loss, and for the Mamas whose arms were empty...Changed me.

Babies died. My baby couldn't die.And if that were to happen, I had to know I had set up every thing every thing to cover any scenario. Mothers are incredible. No Mama should ever lose a baby...at the hand of a surgeon...or because the scar on her uterus caused issues. Or because, some times it just happens. And no Mama should be treated badly for the decisions she makes for  her body. Whether it's a VBAC or a repeat, a home birth or an unassisted birth, or hospital birth... All mothers deserve awesome, informed, and respectful care...But it doesn't always happen.

The whole expereince was a reality check, my baby deserved the best care and coverage possible. I needed an OB. I just did.My decision to birth at home - or even just VBAC again-  could not be allowed to effect the care my baby received. And if some thing horrible did happen: I had done my part as Mama to protect her.

My c/s birth was horrifically traumatic. It was a dark ugly shadow over my second pregnancy...Which happened "so soon" (10mos) after the first. I was terrified of being on that table again. Terrified of being an object to a means (getting baby out), instead of an active participent. My VBAC was hard. It was long. It was empowering. But I did it FREAKING scared. Terrified of being on that table... And maybe even to the detriment of Amity's safety...It's just not okay to be that afraid. But I did it. And I would do it again.

But  I had to find an OB.

Part Four...Back It Up...
Back up to 20 weeks pregnant...We went to my (former) MW's [unofficial] back up OB's practice for the 20 week anatomy scan. I had asked if I could have a prenatal with that OB as well and talk about getting care in the case of hospital birth. I was blind sided at this meeting. This OB had 3 home births herself, she was supposedly very home birth supportive (as much as any OB can say they are in the current climate). She's not VBAC friendly though. I get it, there are risks (smaller risks - in most cases- than repeat surgery though!) - I get that she can't legally support my desire to birth at home. But the amount of times the words "you die", "dead baby", "leave your other children because you're dead", "selfish VBACing at hme...risk to all midwives..'  were said was just uncalled for. I cried the whole way home from that meeting. Wept for the Mama's who've lost their babies... And for the ones who couldn't find support to birth safely they felt they were supposed to, becaue they have a scar on their abdomen.

That meeting rocked me, and drove home the fact: I needed to switch my way of doing things. I really needed to plan two separate births, not try to find "back up" but go all out with both plans...And decide when the time came what I would do.
I needed to do the whole nine yards, the tour, registration, walk through what would happen in the case of another cesarean Walk through what a vaginal birth in the hospital would look like. I needed to know my baby would have a wonderful birth no matter what...  I needed a surgeon I trusted.

Part Five: In which I dive in and do a brave thing scared.

I took a few weeks and interviewed other OB's. Finally at 30 weeks pregnant, I  realized, I'm out of time: I called a (very) local OB (very close to my home) and just signed on with them. As far as any one could tell J (my new MW) didn't exisit, and I had completely ended my professional relationship with my former MW at 26ish weeks. I called and explained that I didn't have care any more and I knew a lot of people who had had babies with them (my MIL had 4!) and had had great experiences.

That office rocks. I have no idea if they viewed me with suspicion, they didn't ask many questions of me... And I kept my answers simple. But either way, they took great care of Newby...I mean Piper, and me. And they restored my respect in OBGYN care.

At 34 weeks Ryan and I toured the hospital and pre-registered. I asked about this hospital (a different hospital from where I had Riley) handled cesarean births...I asked about their mother- baby practices. I was both impressed and encouraged. I really walked out and planned this hospital birth. I honestly didn't know if I wanted a home birth and /I was excited to have this opportunity to embrace a hospital birth.

So we were covered...We had prenatal care coming out our ears, and I felt peace I would labor at home- like I would with any baby- as long as possible and see how it unfolded...If I felt like I wanted to be in the hospital: I'd go. If things moved fast and there wasn't time, we had experienced hands there to keep us safe.

And either way, Newby, I mean Piper, was protected (as much was in my ability to do so). I really liked doing it this way, if I was just planning a hospital birth, I wouldn't have some one at home all that time monitoring her heart rate (intermitently) and making sure every body was okay.  I really felt good about this plan. Really good.

Part Six: Baby Time...HA!

Saturday December 31, 2011 a special day, the 4 year Birth Day of my entrance into Motherhood...And Riley into this world.. I woke up that morning feeling kind of off, but was determined to celebrate with my Birthday Girl. We dropped Amity off at Nana's and took Riley to her first movie (The Muppet Movie) and out for an ice cream sundea at Friendly's. I was having strange (and strong) contractions all that day, I kept drinking water in the hopes it would make them go away...I took a nap with the girls that afternoon and woke up feeling awful. Contractions felt weird and were making me run to the bathroom...I started to get nauseous. I started to dry heave... At some point mid-dry heave I felt a gush and the baby dropped down ( I felt her, it was a weird sensation!). I looked down at my pants and they were wet and slippery. My water had broken at the onset of labor with both my other babies, I was in shock. I called my MW and she said to keep an eye on it and she'd be in touch... Contractions and "clean out" continued all that afternoon....and night... and the next day. At some point J came over and checked on us and did the litmus test: it changed color (meaning there most likely had been some sort of leak)...She said we'd monitor it.  Monday morning we sent the girls to my Mom's for the day to see if we could get labor going. I had been a little leaky those 2 days, but really very minimally. I had so much peace about the situation and wasn't concerned at all about it. I knew leaks happen and can reseal and it just didn't seem like a big deal.

But I had been contracting a LOT, I was sore and tired and wondering if my body just needed some space to get things going. So that morning (still Monday, 1/2/12) Ryan went into work for a bit and after the girls were off with my Mom.  I turned on some worship music and walked around and belly danced through contractions. One song in particular hit me hard, like a wave washing over me: Jesus started to speak (via Jesus Culture).

"Come away with me...Come away with me... It's never too late...It's never too late...It's not too late. I have a plan for you. I have a plan for you...It's gonna be wild, it's gonna be great...It's gonna be full of me."

I heard him singing this over me, felt His comforting presence. I spent the hour with Him, letting him love on me...crying.. Sharing my stress and fears about this pregnancy and birth. I felt Him say this was going to be wild...It was going to be very hard... It was going to be an intense time of healing. It was going to be LONG (I didn't want to hear that part)...And He was going to teach me what it was to Come Away. That I was going to need it as a parent to these 3 precious souls...

Part Seven: It was Long, Freaking LONG

Labor got intense that Monday and then fizzled. I didn't have any more leaking (at some point early that week I noticed I was completely dry...And was actually lacking most "labors coming soon" discharge). The thought was, that it was a high leak that resealed. I decided I was fine with that, and I practiced good hygiene and decided to just play it by ear. It felt right.  

Oh I wanted to add, when I went to the OB at 33 weeks they did some tests and discovered I had a fairly (really, actually) advanced UTI/bladder infection. I was starting to feel yucky and run down and when they told me that I had infection I went "oooooh, duh!" and I got on antibiotics right away (around 34 weeks). After the antibiotics I added  some heavy duty probiotics (supplement), and kifir and raw milk to my diet to build my gut back up. At  my 36 week appointment they did the swab for Group B strep and I was negative, they also tested me for a few other things (that I knew I was negative for) and any other infections as well as another clean catch: I was all good= no problems! That was all in 2 days before this whole thing started. So when I had the question about leakage I had that clinical information to go by as well: I was in a very good place. And had I not hired the OB's I probably wouldn't have discovered the UTI until a week or two later when I finally would have given in and called my GP to get checked out (I hate making appointments/phone calls it's a definite erm...struggle of mine).

So all that, but mainly instinct, told me that everything was okay... And I felt comfortable waiting.

And so labor insanity continued, it was hard. It got intense 2 or 3 days a week for the next 3+ weeks. Infuriating and exhausting. It would act just like real labor, start out slow and easy, and then get faster and harder until I'd actually text J and let her know...And then a few hours later, fiiiiiizle.
At some point in there I decided to splurge (it's not exactly in the budget) and go to my chiropractor and get an adjustment...I hadn't seen her much since Amity was born and we had a really great visit. She evened me out and right after that adjustment I felt Piper drop even more, walking was now very painful. But I figured, it's all part of the process right? Some where in here we (ie me) did a vaginal exam (limiting them, just in case) and my cervix was very easy to reach,  I felt that I was thinning well and around 3ish centimeters (by my guess)...That encouraged me.
It wasn't all bad...I mean sleep didn't happen easily, and I was tired. Those weeks will always be precious to me. We were more intentional about our time with the girls... And there was a definite shifting going on in that time. We were making room for Piper, each in our own way...And I certainly got a TON of projects out of the way!! It was all part of the process, and a better plan than I could have come up with. It was what we needed. Even though it was hard.

But 41 weeks found me still pregnant. I was just getting over a nasty cold, exhausted and DONE.
How Low can ya go?

January 2012 is up there on my "hardest months of my life" list. Parenting (oh not so well) 2 young children while super pregnant and dealing with constant prodromal labor, sucks. If it weren't for my Mom coming daily after work to get me through, and DH taking some early days... Would not have made it. So thankful for those two precious people!

And so we waited... Nothing was making this happen...Oh I was still laboring, but it just wouldn't go over the edge. I went and got Chiropractic adjustments, accupuncture -though they felt great - weren't getting this kid out! It seemed no amount of working through fears (though wonderful and necessary- I had a lot), talking to baby, walking, belly dancing, praying, begging, crying, weeping, gnashing of teeth...you get the picture- the kid was just REALLY happy in there. And I was so ready. And yet, Piper didn't feel all that big, and I knew on some level she really did (obviously) need that time to bake. I wasn't -even on my most labory days- willing to do too much. Even with the question of the water leak, I held back...I just knew in my heart the time was meant for rest, and not work. In the center of it all,  I knew, this child had to start the process...I wasn't going to push it. I wasn't willing to do any thing drastic. And I so I waited.
It was such a roller coaster, up down up down. I would surrender, I would fight and cry, I would surrender and joyfully wait...I would fight and cry.

One of the songs that really ministered to me during those weeks was by Sanctus Real "Whatever You're Doing"

It's time for healing time to move on 
It's time to fix what's been broken too long
Time make right what has been wrong 
It's time to find my way to where I belong
There's a wave that's crashing over me 
All I can do is surrender


(Chorus)
Whatever you're doing inside of me 
It feels like chaos somehow there's peace
It's hard to surrender to what I can't see
but I'm giving in to something heavenly

Time for a milestone
Time to begin again
Revaluate who I really am
Am I doing everything to follow your will
or just climbing aimlessly over these hills
So show me what it is you want from me
I give everything I surrender...
To... 


It's time to face up
Clean this old house 
Time breathe in and let everything out


And that, is really the story of the journey...The beginning, and the end...Which leads me to:


Part Eight: Let's get this show on the road!
 January 25, at 41w and change, I went into the OB for an appointment and an NST.  I consented to a check (first vaginal exam with the OB's- they were seriously so hands off, it was great) I was a "stretchy" 4cm and 80% effaced and the NST said I was having contractions every 3-5 min (nothing new). Piper was a very happy and doing great so the OB said it was whatever, she offered to induce me (I certainly was favorable for it to work!) but was fine with letting me  "wait it out". She didn't think it would be long. It *had* to be soon... I had had bloody show that weekend, and contractions were getting so intense they were keeping me up at night.

I left the appointment feeling secure in the knowledge that I'm made the right decision for now...But TIRED.

Part Nine: Okay SERIOUSLY NOW!

Thursday January 26, 2012. That day found me DONE. I mean, "just sign me up for a repeat" DONE. The contractions were getting stronger and I was needing to vocalize through a few an hour...They were waking me up out of sleep and leaving me moaning. Around 4 a.m. that morning I texted my Mom and told her (essentially) "it's today, no matter what". Around 7a.m. my Mom came and got the girls, who were all packed up for the long haul and "weren't coming back until this baby is OUT!".
Around 10 in the morning J came to do a prenatal. She walked in the door and I started crying, "today has to be the day...It has to be...I can't do this any more. If this baby doesn't come today I'm going in for an induction..." I wasn't kidding.  She checked me, I was 5cm, "very very thin and whoa really really soft," Piper was at 0 station and well applied (as she had been for about 2 weeks- yeah, I was miserable).

So we talked about my options. It was decided: pumping for an hour (10 on one side, 10 off, 10 on the other) and then an hour of brisk walking. She left caster oil with me if I wanted to try that later... And we'd talk about AROM (artificial rupture of membranes) later that day if it was some thing I felt like doing (though J, honestly didn't feel it would come to that).

I didn't want to do caster oil unless it was my only option to get things going. So I sat with the pump and bounced on my trusty balance ball, and watched Fraiser episodes with Ryan (we just grew up enough- or some thing- to find this show funny..?LOVE it!) And we laughed and laughed and laughed...I think the laughing helped on so many levels.

After pumping we headed to the park and walked and joked, laughed and talked. After our walk we went to a local health food store/deli and ordered Tuna sandwiches- oh my word AMAAAAZING. It was kind of funny, the lady working behind the counter actually was a Mama I met at the chiropractor the week before...She went 10 days late with her first baby and she could comiserate. "Oh wow, your baby is still in there, huh?" We chatted- turns out she had a home birth as well. When she handed me my sandwich she said, "I put some extra birthy vibes in it just for you." :0D So That's what did it... A tuna sandwich from HA's cafe! :0D
Anyway, we ate our lunch and went home and I did another round of pumping, bouncing and laughing and contractions were 2-4min apart and getting intense. Around this time Ryan started setting up the tub...



I texted J around 2ish to let her know what was up with the contractions, and she said she'd be right over. In the mean time I walked and swayed and worked through contractions...I was still pretty happy.



J got there about 30 minutes later, and checked me.  I was 5 (still) but completely effaced and my cervix was even lower and baby was at +1 station... Also she said I was so stretchy she could stretch me anywhere with how flexible it all was in there. I had been starting to feel my bag of waters bulge during contractions and she could feel it too. We talked for about 30 minutes about breaking it. Note: Riley's labor was "augmented" with AROM and I think it directly lead to my having a cesarean birth. It was some thing I swore i would never EVER do again. And yet I found myself considering it... I attribute this to healing, big time.  We decided to wait until D would arrive in an hour (yes, the original MW, D!!! She doesn't often assist J but it worked out that there were no other MW's available!!!! She was at my birth!!)  and see how we felt then.


I thought for sure labor would fizzle once J arrived (???) I don't know why, I just thought this couldn't be it. And I felt bad that D was driving all that way- it was probably going to be hours and hours and hours yet.  My weeks of prodromal labor had kinda conditioned me to be a bit of a wet blanket. :0#

And then things got intense.  My pants started to annoy me, I changed to looser ones...Then my underwear was annoying me...I found bigger ones... Then my socks weren't right...Then I felt a little queasy... Contractions were every 1-2 minutes and I was vocalizing and or crying with each one. I was mainly crying because they were overwhelming and big. And because I couldn't believe that they were real, and my body was doing it! and then I was crying because- what if it wasn't "it"??? I was so happy, and sad, and all over the place and weepy. I stood against the side of the couch for contractions while DH either came to hold me during contractions, or was hurrying to finish getting the tub filled (so glad we did that earlier, when he set it up I was sure it wouldn't get used- ha!).

During one particularly hard contraction I realized my pants felt wet: that slippery warm "oh it's my water!" wet like a few weeks before. I mentioned it to J. Around this time I stopped vocalizing, it wasn't helping me...It was making me want to panic.(J said at this point I was getting up on my toes during contractions and she was thinking that I was in transition)... I started a breathing technique the assistant taught me at Amity's birth... Iiiiin Out out ouuuuuuuuut. I did that 3 or 4 times with each contraction and it gave me some thing to *do* to concentrate on. It also made me feel like the contractions were effective. Like I was breathing out of both my mouth and out below.

Around 4:20 (so after about 20 minutes of the breathing) I announced that I needed to get in the tub, the contractions were all in my lower belly and I was feeling an immense amount of pressure. I got in the water and floated: relief.


My contractions immediately spaced to every few minutes and were a little easier to manage. I suspect I was complete at this point (we never checked) because the contractions changed from being the burning "open" sensation to this awesome pressure in my bum and tail bone. J checked me Piper at points in here...But I was still gearing up for the long haul. I wasn't even convinced I'd been through transition yet...Sure it was SUPER hard and intense work...But I don't know. I guess I was in denial? I just remembered it all being like a freight train with Amity.

I think around 5:00pm - just after D arrived- I felt a massive pressure and need to pass gas (I thought) I tried, and WHOA! HUGE bubble of amniotic fluid came wafting out- so neat! A few contractions later I had the same thing happen, And yet, I still wasn't super convinced that things were really happening (???)...3 weeks of prodromal labor really can mess with your mind. For the most part Ryan was busying himself keeping the water warm. And I think D and J were in the bedroom talking and finishing getting stuff together for the birth.

And I was alone...And it felt so right. Eventually (I think when Ryan told them that I thought m water had really full gone) every one was sitting quietly around the tub. I felt like I was the most boring birthing Mom ever. I didn't need any one, I didn't want any one talking, I didn't need encouragement or coaching. I was just floating in my own little world. And every one was sitting on the edge waiting silently.

Contractions were huge, all encompassing. When I felt one coming I'd lift my self up to a full float in the water and would sway/twist my hips. I'd breath and float and wait for it to pass...Riding it out.  I remember wanting to complain that it was really hard and I was done. I remember wishing there was some thing I could do to make it be over. I wondered if I did some thing else if it would be easier. But I couldn't bring myself to change positions. And anytime I tried talking, I'd want to panic.  I just had to "Come Away". I started to pray when I felt a big one coming "Jesus, thank you...Hold me...Holy Spirit, show me who I am in you..."

I was just there, and he was with me...He was holding my face in His hands and whispering, "It's okay... Breath... These can't be stronger than you, this is you...this is you....this is you...You're fantastic...You're doing it... Don't think about any thing but this moment. Stay here...You're doing it...You're here, in this moment...this is you... be here."





I might at one point been whispering "it's you...it's you...it's you.." and "oh wow oh wow oh wow..." I remember thinking "I hope they don't think I'm saying "oh ow", it doesn't hurt it's just so big." :giggle

I continued to float and dance my hips side to side, floating on my back, bracing my head against one end of the tub and my feet against the other... And then it hit. This lightening bolt of ...I don't know how describe it...But suddenly I couldn't relax through the contraction- some thing was happening.

At first, I was sure I just needed to throw up "Oh Transition is here, finally!", I thought. (HAHAHAHA) I had 2 convulsions where some thing just ripped through my body and I guess I was grunting. It didn't feel like pushing. Ryan said J and D saw what was happening and jumped up at that moment and started grabbing gloves and blankets and towels. I said, "I think I'm going to throw up" and asked for the bowl. I honestly didn't think I was any where close to having the baby. I rolled to my hands and knees and grabbed the side of the tub and suddenly, I was being turned inside out. Wait, what?!??! I'M PUSHING?!?  Oh it didn't feel good. I wouldn't say it hurt, but it felt weird and big and I had no control over it. I pushed and J said "Hannah, reach down and feel your baby's head."

Wait, what? The heads out?!?! There was no ring of fire (though maybe a little stinging?) and I felt her soft fragile little head down there. So soft and squishy. At this point I was scared it would be forever until the rest of her would come out I remember saying, "Oh please get it out!" and J told me I was doing great and to push again with the next contraction...I did and I felt Piper's slippery little body slide out. INCREDIBLE.



When Friendly came out it was so intense and fast I didn't feel any thing but burning and power. Being in the water I could really feel every thing. I quickly flipped my leg over her and pulled her out of the water to my chest. Her cord was so short she barely reached high enough on me to keep her face out and every one was trying to support us up and out a little.



I had been looking forward to that moment for almost a year, holding the fresh new life, it was incredible. After a minute I peeked between her legs and saw what I knew was true: It was a girl. I started yelling "Oh a girl! Girl! a GIRL!!!! Oh Piper Hi!! Oh hello Piper!! Oh I'm so glad it's you!" (we caught all of this on video- I'll hopefully post the birth video soon).

It was perfect, just perfect.

Eventually we got out of the tub- the placenta fell out when I stood to get out. Every one helped me dry off and get set up on the couch. We had a bit of a time getting Piper situated, we hadn't cut the cord yet- and she was still attached to the placenta. She was angry, she wanted milk and it took a good  bit of practice to get her to latch on- she wanted her fingers and couldn't understand why food wasn't just coming to her as it had been before when she sucked on her fingers inside of me.


After a nice long nursing session we did the newborn exam.

7lbs 6oz and 20 inches long. 
Perfect 13inch head, no molding. 
Every thing was perfect.  

I had no tears, or even any bruising- I feel fantastic...At one day postpartum I feel better than I did at 3 weeks  postpartum with Amity! Though I've been in bed ever since I got out of the shower, and don't plan on leaving for another 6 days.

After the exam I got my shower and got out just in time for big sisters to come home and meet Piper.












I feel like Piper has brought the balance we needed to this little group of girlies, I am so excited to have two big helpers around - and they are both so excited to see every thing she does. We're all so in love.

I can't say how thankful I am for this journey...for the growth...the peace and the gentle, surprising, and just absolutely amazing birth experience. I can honestly say, that was some of the most difficult work I have ever done...It wasn't physically hard like it was with Amity. It was mentally just took every thing I had to stay in that zone with Jesus, my doula. It was the most over powering and biggest thing I have ever experienced. And I am so thankful for it.

I am also just blown away and blessed by the Mamas I've met around the world (thanks to message boards and  support groups) who were lifting me up and encouraging me the whole long month. I felt your prayers...And I thank you.
Piper Joy- 4 days old.