When Loves Comes Out of Duty

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You never expect to feel that way when it happens, but the reality is...it does.  So much more often than most people realize.

Any of you who know me in real life or have been following along since my pregnancy with Alex know very well what a hard pregnancy I had with him.  Perhaps my story actually starts there then...

Let me back up a minute to give you a little foundation for my pregnancy with Alex:
When I was pregnant with Abigail I went through the typical nausea that most pregnant women have in the first trimester.  The encouragement from others was always "it only lasts a little while.  You will feel much better soon!"  Only it didn't.  Week 15 came, and still no relief.  Most women feel much better after about 12 weeks (end of first trimester).  I pushed on and heard a few rare cries of encouragement from women who also had extended pregnancy nausea.  Somewhere after week 17 or 18 I felt some relief.  Let's emphasize the word "some" here.  My nausea wasn't gone, but manageable.  I wouldn't feel sick until about 4PM everyday and even though it was nausea, I could still eat most things with a few really strong aversions to things like onions and garlic.  Abigail's pregnancy gave me pretty dibilating sciatic pain in both legs unless I was doing stretches several times a day.  My labor with her was almost 30 hours and hard back labor, but in the end all I had prepared for, educated myself on and by the grace of God resulted in a happy healthy baby with an untraumatic birth story (aside from the part where she came out blue and not breathing...but that is another story for another day!).

It was this extended nausea and sciatica that led me to not want another baby for awhile.  Of course timing helps....financially we wanted to have a bit more freedom for me to be home a little bit more if we had another baby.  So as many of my "pregnancy buddies" who were pregnant right alongside with me during Abigail's pregnancy announced their second pregnancies, I sat and watched.  I wasn't discontent.  Part of me wished I was ok with the thought of being pregnant again so soon, but I wasn't.  I hated being pregnant the first time and wasn't looking forward to doing it a second time.  Some may gasp at the words hate and pregnant being in the same sentence, but I am allowed to have feelings, and that is really how I felt, and if I am honest....still feel.  The only thing good about pregnancy to me is having a baby at the end.  So from point A to point....well Y I guess, sucks.  Z is ok....Z = end = getting a baby.

I knew having another baby would happen at some point though so I began to "prepare" for ways I could make a future pregnancy more comfortable.  Many friends told me that their chiropractors were amazing at helping with sciatica and nausea during pregnancy.  So I sought out chiropractic care in early 2013.  I have had some back problems for quite sometime and started seeing relief soon after.  I hoped that this would help in pregnancy pains and decrease my nausea too.

Fast forward to August 2013-  2 days before we moved to the Chicago suburbs I found out I was pregnant with Alex.  This was planned.  We knew we were ready to start trying for baby #2, so we were pretty happy when we found out we were expecting again.  I knew some sort of nausea was inevitable.  I prepared myself for at least first trimester nausea and to be honest...even a few weeks beyond since that had happened with Abigail.  Beyond that, I was hopeful, and lets be honest..."expected" pregnancy to be better this time, because I had done all the "right" things right?

The nausea hit with a vengeance in week 6 just as it had with Abigail's pregnancy.  I survived as most first trimester women do on eating to survive, sleeping, and just dealing with nausea and vomiting.  End of first trimester came and no relief.  Week 17/18 came (my nausea relief point with Abbie) and still no relief.  I remember a slight break if you can even call it that in the nausea around week 21 or 22, but the number of food aversions I had and what made me nauseous constantly was so large there really wasn't much of a real break.  Most women talk about how second trimester is a wonderful break in pregnancy- you aren't uncomfortable yet.  Nausea is gone.  You are pretty much pregnant without feeling to pregnant.  It's a time to enjoy.  Not me.....Week 27, third trimester came...no improvement.  What!?  God, why are you doing this to me?  Why do I feel this way?  Why are there so many happy pregnant women?  This sucks!  Those happy pregnant people...I just want to punch them in the face!  This really fricking sucks.  And I sat in that...for awhile.  I remember somewhere in this part of pregnancy talking to one of my friends from church who also suffers from hyperemesis when pregnant and I asked her "How do you do this?"  #1 "How have you done this 3 times?" and #2 "Why do you want to do this again?"  She told me that she knows its worth it.  In that moment I kind of agreed....sort of :)  I asked her how in the world she managed to get through it while having little ones at home when she felt that way, and she responded "I pray...a lot."  That was my first moment of hope.  I knew it may not get better.  I had accepted defeat and lowered my expectations of this pregnancy ever being nausea free and just accepting what is.  It didn't make me like it more, but it did make me start to strive toward contentment.  The rest of Alex's pregnancy I went in and out of accepting reality with being angry at reality and cycling back and forth...trying to be content, but really just wanting my pregnancy to be over.  I kept telling myself it will all be better when this pregnancy is over:  my appetite will come back...I can deal with lack of sleep from a newborn, but I can't deal with not even being able to function anymore.

You can probably guess how elated I was that Alex was born when I was 39 weeks pregnant vs Abigail being born at 41 weeks.  My birth with Alex was fine- no problems or concerns.  Healing was quick as it was with Abbie's.  My appetite was almost fully back within 48-72 hours with few if any food aversions left.  Alex was a great nurser-  something I was a little anxious about since I did successfully nurse Abbie, but we struggled a lot initially.

Something happened shortly after we got home with Alex though.  I can't pinpoint the exact moment.  All I know is with Abbie we had low expectations-  we expected sleep deprivation, and our world being turned upside down.  With Alex...we were like "we've got this...we've done it once.  Abbie meshed pretty easily into our lives so this baby will too."  Somewhere shortly after that thought we realized that this baby didn't mesh quite as well.  He cried....not colicky cry, but he cried enough and was inconsolable for longer periods of time a day.  If you met Abbie's 3 basic needs as a baby she was content-  hungry? Check.  Wet? Changed diaper- check.  Sleep?  Take a nap....that's it.  She rarely cried.  She was always full of smiles and very independent.  We did struggle with breastfeeding some, but she eventually got it and it was smooth sailing from there.  Alex....I didn't know what he wanted....I would check the 3 obvious needs- hungry, wet, sleepy and he would still cry...and cry and cry.  I would be at my wits end by the time Dave got home from work and hand him off and Dave would literally take him, sit on the couch, pat his back like 5 times and say I can't handle him and just hand him back.....that was rough.  I literally felt so alone.  I wanted to smack Dave.  Scream at him and say "Can't you see that I need you right now!!" but what could I do....

I pressed on.  Dave continued to seem emotionally distant.  I eventually got to a point where I gave up.  Not gave up on Dave entirely, I just internally said "I cannot deal with helping support Dave through this emotionally right now.  Someone has to take care of the kids, and I can't handle supporting anyone else emotionally right now or I am going to fall apart.  So I left him to himself and muddled through.  I rhythmically changed diapers.  I forced smiles and coos.  I nursed Alex without emotion.  Where was that soft mama's heart that comes when her babies cries beg for her?  Why didn't I care to pick him up and console him and let love shine through my tears of frustration?  I felt nothing....nothing but duty.  Nothing but hard.  This little being....the baby who was supposed to be born and help me feel so much better in a non pregnant state was tearing down my marriage, was breaking me....every last piece of me and bringing me literally to the floor in tears begging God for strength to get through another day.  I remember calling my mom friends from church in tears and saying things like "I don't care what we do, or where we are going today, but I need out.  I can't do this by myself today!"  It was those girls and my faith that got me through.

Somewhere around 6 months of age I started to see some improvement in Alex's demeanor and behavior.  It also may very well be the same time period that I just completely let go.  I lowered my expectations.  I started accepting Alex as Alex.  Accepting that this is who he is.

I still continued to hold my breath though.  Before this, whenever I would start to get my hopes up that he was improving, we would have 3 good nights and 10 horrible ones.  It started to feel not worth it to hope at all, but just accept whatever was as what was and let go of the rest.

Somewhere around when Alex turned 7 month's old I started to "feel" it.  Love.  Love for him.  Love that he was my son.  Love in my actions toward him, not just actions full of duty.  Love for him entirely and my heart began to swell.  I started feeling feelings of attachment and bonding and this "normal" feeling I felt I should have felt when he was a week old...it finally came.

I mourned too.  Not a lot, but enough to accept the time I felt I had lost, but also recognizing that I was doing the best I could.  I noticed it in Dave too.  Love.  A love not out of duty finally came for him too.  Satan has since tried to attack me with feeling somewhat guilty of this lost time, but I can't do anything about it.  All I can accept it for is what it was and that's it.  I didn't do it on purpose.  I cannot help how I felt.

Did I have diagnosed postpartum depression/anxiety?  No.  I don't entirely think it was, but my job as a doula actually aided in helping myself process what was going on.  I learned that I was really high risk for getting a postpartum mood disorder-  Type A, thyroid disease, perfectionist, high expectations....

I also learned that one of the best ways to help prevent and keep yourself out of a postpartum mood disorders is by having support-  friends to talk to, moms groups to be a part of, someone to help take care of you and your home (light cleaning, cooking, etc).

And something that came as a shock to me-  husbands/father's can go through their own version of a postpartum mood disorder, which very well could have been what Dave was dealing with.

Here is some more information on postpartum mood disorders that is really helpful if you want more information:
 http://psychotherapy.com/mom.html

If you think you maybe at risk don't hesitate to ask for help . Tell your provider.  Reach out to your friends, and ask for help, and if you know someone who just had a baby make sure you check in on them, and don't just say "Let me know if you need anything."  Say, I would like to ___________ (bring you a meal, babysit your older child, come clean your house so you can nap when baby naps, etc).  Us type A's don't like to ask for help.  Nor will we.  The only way anyone would have been allowed to help me in that period was if they forcibly told me to sit down and that they were going to do X, Y, and Z.  My cries for help to my friends came when I felt like I was at the bottom of the pit.  That's what's hard about postpartum mood disorders.  People don't talk about it.  People don't acknowledge it as real. You don't even always know you are going through it while you are in the middle of it.  It's real.  Very real, and when left untreated or without support can spiral out of control with sometimes fatal results.

The American Psychological Association states the following:

• An estimated 9-16 percent of postpartum women will experience PPD.
• Among women who have already experienced PPD following a previous pregnancy, some prevalence estimates increase to 41 percent.

Do you realize how many women that is and how few will actually talk about it?  How many of us are undiagnosed and trying our best to muddle through?

Moms need help.  Moms need support.  Most importantly they need to know that they aren't alone.

Alex is now almost 8 1/2 months old, so all of this is still pretty fresh in my mind.  I'm still healing emotionally and spiritually from what happened, but I'm finally seeing some sunshine after the rain.  He is such a sweet little boy, and probably always has been.  I just couldn't see it.  He is definitely a much needier baby than Abbie was, and that's ok.  That is who he is.  I'm doing my best to make up for lost time by letting go of the guilt and moving forward to make the most out of my now.  Dave and I talk openly about how frustrated I was at him during that time.  We both talk about our new found feelings of connection with Alex and how much we are enjoying him now.

Something I've learned over the years, and especially through all of this, is that I am closest to my Savior when I recognize the depth of my own limitations without His strength to get me through.  And for that...I am thankful for the depth of the struggle.  For it's in the deepest valleys that I feel Him closest to me.

I can't change the past, but I can help educate and support other moms so that they too know it's ok to feel this way, and that they aren't alone in the process.

To the mamas who feel so alone in the day to day.....dear friends you aren't alone!  Keep pressing on, and don't be afraid to ask for help.  In fact if any of the above sounds familiar...tell someone.  You don't have to walk through this alone! Let God be your strength.

And don't forget, you aren't a bad mom either if you feel like your love is coming out of duty.

Blessings,

Parenting: Embrace the Suck!

Now before you judge the title.....hear me out and hopefully be encouraged in the process......

Every afternoon my intentions start out well.  "Let's clean up your toys, because daddy will be home soon."  It's my way of respecting home as a sacred space.  I want our home to be inviting to Dave, because he works hard.  In all honesty his commute sucks.  There isn't a sugar coated way to say it.  We chose to live here because we can live a much more frugal lifestyle if we live further away from his job. He did that so we could sacrifice me to be home more right now.  Yes, I still work from home now, but it is in a much smaller capacity than I was doing before we moved to the suburbs.  So I want to honor that.  He works long days and drives long hours.  I want the man to be able to come home to some peace and calm away from chaos.

Nevertheless,  my intentions are good, and Abbie is getting pretty good at listening when it is time to pick up toys, but Alex.....not so much.  I can't blame him.  He is after all a baby, but boy can that kid scream.  Supper is his finest hour.  At that point of the day he is flat out done and often times our supper is spent void of words and surrounded by echoing walls of Alex's pterodactyl cry.  It's awesome.  Like so awesome I wanna never forget this awesome....NOT!

Dave and I have both felt since almost the day we found out we were expecting Alex, that God has been stretching our faith in learning to be joyful and content no matter what.  It's a good lesson, but wow it's a hard one.  We've been learning to let go more, laugh more, and live more.

Last week, Dave arrived home from work to the typical pterodactyl screams.  I tried to muster up a smile, which I know myself....no matter how hard I try, it's fake.  I glanced up at him in the doorway and probably yelled "Hi!  How was your day?" (insert fake smile here).  He sat down to dinner with us and somewhere between squawking, squeaking Alex, and probably some spilled milk, we both ended up laughing.  Laughter caused by Dave looking up at me and saying/yelling in between screams, something about parenting and how you just have to "Embrace the Suck!"

Forgive me if I offend anyone here, I am not trying to do so, but I could not have said it better myself!

Somewhere in between rose colored glasses and overly cynical is reality.  Why don't we talk about our real?  Do I desire to be pessimistic?  No.  Should I be?  No.  God's word tells us to be content in ALL things so no matter how hard things are....I still have to find a way to "embrace the suck."

I struggle a lot with how much to share of my real.  Will it help someone if I share it?  Is it just me complaining?  Is it me being honest?  I don't want to hide it, but I don't want to be too pessimistic either.  I also know that hiding and pretending never brings growth.  Hiding always makes me feel alone.  Every time I share "real" I hear echos of "me too."  And in those echos of "me too's" comes unity.  Comes growth.  Comes spurring on.  Comes a whole bunch of mamas hearts who are tired and empty and just need strength to get through this day and then more strength to get through tomorrow.

Before I became a mom I had prepared myself for no sleep, and crying.  I was very unprepared for the amount of selflessness that this career path would require.

In fact I think the only things I ever actually heard from people were:  "breastfeeding is so natural!" (not even in the slightest...at least for me for child #1), and "being a mom is the most amazing job in the world!" (translation to the non-mom yet-  We will get to play pat-a-cake and peek-a-boo and we will snuggle for hours and read stories and bake cookies together! (Does anyone else read that in a Buddy the Elf voice :)....

Reality check-  No one ever told me I would have to wipe one child's butt while breastfeeding the other, clean up vomit covered sheets multiple times at 3AM, stay up all night worry about a baby with a fever that is really high and won't go down, get a million clogged milk ducts from breastfeeding, get mastitis, have a baby who cries for no reason after all obvious needs have been met, lay my baby down in his bed crying because I have reached my limit and need to walk away before I make irrational choices, clean up splatters of God only knows what off of my kitchen floor, never have a free moment to myself anymore, never take a shower without someone interrupting me anymore, hide a secret stash of chocolate, or clean caked out peas out of a babies hair.....and the list goes on...and on....

Why don't we talk about real?  I don't want to scare future moms, but I don't want them to have too high of expectations like me.  I want the moms in the trenches now to know they aren't alone, and I don't want to be alone .....either.

Motherhood can be so lonely sometimes.  Staring at the same walls all day.  No other adults in your home to talk to.  Clean up mess after mess.  Some days hitting the repeat button on timeouts....All.  Day.  Long.   It's exhausting.  It's mind numbing.  It's sacrifice.  Again and again and again.  There is no doubt about it.  When I spend all day doing all the things I would rather not be doing, it is only when I lift my eyes up, that I remember what a small sacrifice this actually is.  My Heavenly Father loved me so much that He died for me.....Died!!  And here I am complaining about spit up covered clothes, diaper blow outs, and mastitis.  His sacrifice makes mine pale in comparison, and so, I press on.  His sacrifice reminds me everyday that what I do really and truly is a real life example to my family of what He chose to do for me on that cross.

A book I have been reading called Sacred Marriage, dares to ask the question "What if the purpose of marriage is to make us more holy than happy?"  I truly believe that is the purpose of all of this.....God's intent in my life is not to make me happy...it's to change my heart to look more like His.  I am not a wife to be "happy," or in a (fill in the blank)________________career to be "happy."  I am not a mom to be "happy"....No.  He is using each and every part of my life to refine me daily to become more Holy....by every pea crusted hair by pea crusted hair that I clean, and blowout diaper change I make.....He's refining me.  Peeling back layer after layer and allowing me to become more Holy in the sacrifices He has asked of me.

I challenge you to be real with others.  Don't paint a photo-shopped picture of yourself for others to see....it's just a mask.  There is a real person behind that mask who needs to know she is not alone in this crazy mom life.  Let God refine you through that life, and "embrace the suck" of the beauty that is being a  mom!

My current real:
Nap time is over and I am bribing the little one with crackers and the older one with cartoons trying to finish writing this.

Real mom life :)

Better run.  It's 4:30PM and the pterodactyl cries.....

Blessings,

My Days

I'm finding that often times my days are what I make of them.  

My heart is fullest when I let go.  

That my best mama moments are spent lingering in "the real."  

You see it's all in our perspective.

Our fulfillment and success can be measured in the number of tasks done, or amount of work completed.

It also can be measured in giggles, slobbery kisses, and snuggles.

I had a moment of fullness the other day that came unexpectedly.  One that came as a lunch plate crashed to the floor....

One that made my heart swell as my little one wanted to feed himself and was smothering himself in stickiness....

I find myself lately pausing to etch pictures of my present in my mind.  

Pictures that are unable to be captured on film.  

Pictures of snuggles. 

Pictures of my baby, snuggled in my arms and grasping my finger as he drifts off to sleep.  

Pictures of my daughters contagious laughter and thoughtfulness.  

My full heart moments. 

Those moments when I have chosen to pause and let God bless my heart in the stillness of a moment and let it wash over me. 

I don't want to forget about these pictures.

I won't miss some of it, but much of it I will, and I don't want to regret wishing this season away.  Once it's gone, I can't have it back.

When I choose to find joy, to be content in all circumstances as God word asks of us I find that there really is joy in sticky hands, messes, and diapers.....when I just for a moment make time to change my perspective.

 Choose to be blessed no matter where God has you right now!

Surviving Motherhood

Breathe.  Just breathe.  Stillness.  Silence.  Me....just me. 

My need to write is like a salve to my soul.  Especially now....when I'm surrounded by needs, but when?  Who has time?  When I can't let it out, it just sits there.  Festering.  An unhealing wound that needs air.  My entire being feels smothered when I can't let it out.  I need to breathe.  

My days are a whirlwind.  A never ending to do list filled with a balance of household chores and loving those beautiful faces God has given me to cherish.  By the end of the day I am so tired.  So spent.  Running on empty fumes.  I stumble to bed, often asking myself why?  Why do we do this? 

In those moments I have to believe it's worth it.  In those days when my tank seems to always be running on fumes.  When worries and guilt choke my soul like a parched garden full of thorns in mid August....I have to have faith that God has made me for this moment.  That right here, right now...no matter how ill equipped I feel...He has prepared me for this.  

Some days are better than others.  Some days I feel like I kicked Pinterest in the butt.  Other days the tv has hardly been turned off because I can't do it.  I just can't muster up enough to make it on my own.  Some days I'm Martha Stewart on steroids-  cooking, baking, grocery shopping, checking off work tasks, showering, and still spending time with the kids throughout my day....others I collapse, and I just am.  I just allow myself to be.  

I'm better today though than I was 5 months ago.  God's worked out a lot in me though I still have far to go.  Having two is far harder than I ever dreamed it would be, though I hear that is not the case for everyone.  That's fine.  I'm glad, but for me.  For us....having two has been us giving more than we ever even thought we had to give.  

There have been a few things that have helped my days take a turn for the better.  I'm feeling hope again.  I'm feeling less suffocated, and some days even feeling joy, and because I know I am not the only one struggling with this part of the motherhood journey.  I share from my heart to yours....

photo credit

I'm learning to lower my expectations.  When I wake up in the morning and give God my whole day....things always go much better.  I expect less of the kids.  I expect less of myself.  No worries...I still have my to do list, but it becomes His when I give it to Him.  I let go a lot more.  I trust Him more.  

I've started telling myself "it's their day too."  Katie over at Coffee and Crumbs introduced this idea to me. When I started adopting this concept, it made an even bigger impact on me than lowering my expectations.  When I get down on the floor and see the world through their eyes, I see things a lot differently.  When my day is based only on what I want to accomplish I forget how important their needs and wants are, because to a certain 3 year old I know....mommy playing ponies with her is almost equivalent to visiting Disneyworld, and to a little sweet boy I know, mommies cuddles and snuggles are his only sense of security in this big world.  So go ahead...I dare you.  Get down on the floor and evaluate what "their day" means to them.  It will change your perspective completely.

Finally, I'm learning to stop waiting for this season to pass.  I recently came across a blog written by Sally Clarkson.  You can find her article here.  I love what she has to say about Waiting Through Seasons of Parenting....

"Somewhere amidst all of this impatient waiting, I realized that I could miss life if I just waited for a season to pass or something to change.  God, however,  seems to be more concerned with the process, the shaping of my own soul in the midst of the daily steps of life.....How much time I have wasted when I was waiting for a season to pass so that I could “get on” with life, when God is strategically using those moments to stretch me, to make me more unselfish, more compassionate, more humble."

It's interesting....somewhere along the line I had this misconception that days as a stay at home mom would be fun.  Filled with cute kids, and craft projects and play dates.  Don't get me wrong.  They can be fun.  Just the same as working at a job can be fun with the right mentality.  I can be just as discontent at work as I can at home.  

In his book the Sacred Marriage, Gary Thomas challenges our concept about marriage:

 "what if God designed marriage to make us more holy than to make us happy." 

 I have to say I think that concept applies to all of life in general-  our jobs, our marriages, our children...all of it.  God's job isn't to be my genie in a bottle and grant me three wishes.  No, our God loves his children and sometimes love is tough love.  Sometimes love is discipline.  Sometimes love is not giving our children what they want, because we know they will grow more character if they have to work for it.  

Motherhood....is the hardest thing God has asked me to do thus far  I have watched more selfishness come out of me in the last 3 1/2 years than I ever thought possible.  I've watched calloused parts of me melt away, and love come out of me that I never knew existed.  I've seen him using my gifts in ways I didn't know they could be used, while at the same time feeling more helpless than I ever have before.

 In Matthew Henry's Bible Commentary on 2 Chronicles 16, He writes....

"We trust in God when we have nothing else to trust to, when need drives us to Him, but when we have other things to stay on we are apt to depend too much on them."

God often times has to sweep away everything around us that we are clinging so tightly to to hold us afloat in order to remind us that He is our rock.  He is the foundation we stand on and it is only when we build upon Him that we build on solid ground.

Fellow moms I want you to know that you've got this.  You are doing great.  Besides what the world tells you with their photoshopped Facebook photos of Pinterest crafts and millions of books telling you how to and how not to parent, and people wagging their fingers at you in grocery stores scolding your parenting skills....you've got this.  You know why?  Because you've got Him, and at the end of the day, at the end of this life our Facebook photos and Pinterest crafts won't matter.  What will matter is if we chose to live each day for Him.  That we got down on the ground on our knees, in tears and said "God, I can't do this on my own.  I need you."  And that moment when you let go and let Him and recognize your real need....that's when your season will start to matter.  That's when you will see past the mundane.  That is when you will truly start to live.

Blessings,

45 Minute Home Workout for Moms....(Or something like that!) :)

(photo credit)

So this is me....during my workout this morning...ha...ha...hahaha!  Ya right!  So let's get right to it...

I know...all ya all are reading the title of this post and thinking "How in the world does this girl have enough time in her day to workout for 45 minutes?  I don't even have enough time to take a shower, let alone workout!"  You are potentially on the verge of thinking bad thoughts about me right now, but allow me to explain what my 45 Minute Workout actually looks like......


8:30AM-  Start of Workout-  I press play on my Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred (Jillian is actually someone I'd often like to just unplug and walk away from....oh we have a love hate relationship, but more about that some other day!)  So I press play, and immediately realize I should probably pee and mamas you know what happens post child birth when you do jumping jacks right?  So even though I didn't have to go that bad...I obey, because I know what will happen when I don't.

8:35AM- Press play and back at it.

8:37AM- Alex starts fussing.  Press pause and give him his pacifier.  Abbie is covering her ears yelling "Alex!"  (her way of trying to get him to stop crying....oy!)

8:38AM-  Press play

8:39AM-  Alex spits pacifier out, more fussing.  Press pause.  Realize he is acting tired and put him down for a nap.

8:45AM- Back at workout.

8:50AM-  Alex is crying in crib.  Pause Jillian.  Go into his room, give him back his pacifier, shoosh him and pat his butt until he quiets down.

8:53AM- Back at workout

8:57AM  Abbie wants a mid morning snack.  Pause...again....

9:00AM Back at workout.  By this time Abbie has wandered into her room to play so I shut off the cartoons.

9:05AM- Crying from Abbie's room...I ignore it at first cause she's been whiny all morning.  She is probably crying over the fact that the chocolate chip in her granola bar is on the left side instead of the right and yesterday it was on the right not the left.

9:07AM Still crying.  I continue to ignore.  This time she comes out.  I continue working out while listening to whining and crying and pretending to ignore her even though I am really tired of her whining.  Turns out she is mad I turned off her cartoons (since she walked away and was playing in her room).  I respond with "Well, whining is not going to get them turned on.  We have watched enough cartoons for today and mommy will be done in a few minutes and I can come play with you."  A few more tears and she goes back into her room to play.

9:09AM  More fussing from Alex....man that boy has been having trouble this week with naps.  Press pause....insert pacifier, shoosh, butt pat...

9:11AM- Back at workout

9:15AM-  Workout ends and I shut Jillian off.

There you have it....an In Home 45 Minute Workout for Moms.....ha!  Mission accomplished and onto the next task :)

Somewhere in there I swear I got a 20-25 minute workout!  I know I know.  You are all wondering why in the world I would even attempt the workout in all of that mess!?  Well because for me...I need to.  It makes me a better person when I workout.  I feel better about myself and when my workout is done I can do better at the rest of my life throughout the day....even when being constantly interrupted I still feel better with a workout than without one.

So why not go to a gym?  Get up earlier?  Wait until after Dave gets home from work?


Answers:

I'm too cheap to get a gym pass and by the time I would get them loaded up to go I could have gotten in a workout at home.

I do get up earlier but sometimes the littles get up early too and I can't get my workout done before.

I hate waiting until Dave gets home from work because #1 I am too tired, and #2 by the time he gets home its a whirlwind of supper, baths, and bedtimes which is a whole other blog post in and of itself!



Life as a mom is sometimes messy....the constant neediness and the constant demands....it's exhausting and lovely all at the same time.  I don't know how to explain it but it just is.

I keep telling myself someday I'll miss it, but you know what?  I won't miss a lot of this....  I won't miss the crying that won't stop even when Alex is picked up and comforted.  I won't miss whining.  I won't miss my late bedtime and early rising.  I won't miss the extra laundry and dishes.

What I will miss is cuddles and snuggles, childlike faith and innocence, sweet imaginations and how they can make the inanimate world come to life, little helping hands, and goodnight kisses and hugs.

No, I can confidently say I won't miss the bad parts, and you know what else I won't miss?  Doing a 20-25 minute in home workout in 45 minutes.....that part I'm not gonna miss at all!

Keep doing what you do best moms....being you and doing whatever you need to do in your everyday life to be the best mom you can be!

Blessings,

Healthy Self Image and Our Daughters

photo credit

I saw something in the mirror today.  Something I didn't like.  Sure we all have parts of ourselves we don't like, but this...this was deeper than surface level.

As I walked into my bedroom this morning my heart stopped.  Sank actually.  There standing up on my vanity chair looking into the mirror was my little girl.  Holding her shirt up to expose her abdomen and patting her belly.  Looking at it intently in the mirror.  Examining herself and I realized...she gets that from me.  I knew immediately why she was doing this, because I do this.  I don't say anything when I do, but I examine myself and criticize my flaws, at least in my head.  So why wouldn't a young child who saw her mother do this be doing the exact same thing?

It's become very apparent to me as of late how much our children learn and take in from us.  They learn manners and wrong from right, but they also learn about our ugly parts too.  Our own sin.  They pick up on it and grasp it and repeat it.  Phrases, bad habits...all of it.  Every single part of my being is being examined fully on a daily basis and I don't even realize it.  It's good, because it challenges me.  God has brought more sin issues up in my life since becoming a mom then ever before, but it's hard, and we can't be perfect, but we can do our best to glorify God in all that we do, and when we mess up, not only do we repent of our sin, but we also can teach our children as well through our own imperfections.

As a person who has struggled with some eating disorder issues in the past, I don't take body image for my own little girl lightly.  In fact I was just talking to my sister the other day about how no matter how dissatisfied I am with my own appearance, I try my best not to verbalize it, but this....this moment in the mirror took it to a whole new level for me.  Abbie notices how I examine my flaws in the mirror, and though she doesn't realize yet that I thought of them as flaws, the world will soon help her realize that is what I was thinking.  That I was spending too much time thinking about my imperfections and my physical appearance and not enough time focusing on how God wants to change my heart.

Ladies hear me out here....the way we view our own bodies in front of our daughters is a huge part of how they will view their own bodies as they grow up.  Now we can't be responsible for our children's choices.  Nor can we blame ourselves if our daughter chooses wrongly when she is older, but we are responsible for raising our children in a biblical way.  Raising them to glorify God in all that they do.  And they learn by not just words, but by example.  Our example.

Now don't mistake what I am trying to say here.  I think you should take pride in your body the way God made it to be.  1 Corinthians speaks of our body being a temple and we should treat it as such, and Proverbs speaks against being a glutton.  Teach your children to feed their body good foods that will help nourish them well, but also let them enjoy a doughnut sometimes.  Teach them to not feel guilty going out for ice cream as a family occasionally.  Teach them to enjoy the moments in fellowship around a table full of food and savor it. Teach them about exercise, but don't obsess.  Running around playing at the playground is exercise, not just working out at home or in a gym.  Swimming and splashing at the pool is exercise, taking a walk and going on a nature hike is exercise.  Taking care of our bodies should be fun.  Though often times it takes discipline, all things should be done in moderation.  Now I'm not against makeup, and cute hairstyles, but you know your heart.  Are you obsessing too much over these things, or are your doing your best to take care of the body God gave you, enjoying treats in moderation, and trying your best to praise God for the blessing that your body is instead of critiquing every imperfection?

Teach your girls to stand in front of a mirror and feel beautiful.  It starts with us moms.  These early years are so critical in teaching our young daughters that God made them beautiful.  That we each are different....but beautiful and perfect in His image.  This doesn't mean your daughter won't struggle with body image ever.  In fact I am fully expecting to have my daughter come to me at least once in tears about something she doesn't like about her body (probably multiple times!).  That's not wrong.  That's normal, but what's important moms is our response to our daughters in those moments.  Show them their Heavenly Father's love.  Point them to God's perspective and where their self worth really lies, and above all be an example.  Love yourself.  Do you love yourself and who God made you to be?  Flaws and all?

I admit, its hard sometimes to look in a mirror and know how puberty changed me, how weight gain and weight-loss changed me, how 2 pregnancies and 2 births changed me, but each one of those moments in my life was meant to be there.  Meant to leave it's mark.  I'm not going to get any younger, in fact, statistics show that we only keep getting older....ha!  Are we surprised by that?  Wouldn't it be wonderful if our culture found beauty in weathered hands and bodies?  Hands that have served endlessly time and time again?  Hands that washed peoples feet?  Bodies that birthed life?  Bodies that worked hard to take care of a family their entire life?  Bodies that sacrificed financially again and again to serve others?

I don't want to sound all cliche and thoughts of the phrase "it's what's inside that counts," are sure to cause an eye roll.  My own eyes even roll at that phrase, but for real ladies....if we don't model this for our daughters who will?  The girls they meet in school?  The hormone laden teenage boys they have crushes on?  It is our responsibility to model this for our girls.  To teach them that they are more than hair, more than 6 pack abs and a bikini body workout in Seventeen magazine.  No, our girls are valued.  They are loved.  They are treasured beyond measure by their maker.

Would you remind them of this?  Would you remind them that even when they feel like according to the worlds standards they are far from beautiful, that He still does.  That their creator finds them beautiful, and breathtaking.  That He created them perfectly the way He wanted them to be and He loves them, and moms of boys would you raise your boys to know this about you, about their sisters, about all women?  Would you raise up the next generation of men?

Psalm 45:11 says, "The king is enthralled by your beauty, honor Him for He is your Lord."

Genesis 1:27 says. "So God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them."

You see that?  He is enthralled by us!  Not only that, but we are created in His image!

Do you struggle too?  Do you really believe you are beautiful?  Are you discontent with your own body?

Choose to stand in front of your own mirrors and smile at the blemishes, the stretch marks put there as gentle reminders of the babies you carried, the skin that is no longer as firm as it once was when you were just a teen, the C-section scar....whatever it is dear friends, embrace it!

He's talking to you too you know....

You are beautiful and breathtaking.  You are perfectly made and He loves you too.  Believe it in your own heart, and it won't be nearly as hard for our own daughters to see God's love for them through you.

Read His word and remind yourself over and over again of His promises and what He says about your beauty and pretty soon the lies that you tell yourself will be replaced with truth.  Let Him change your heart.  Let Him remind you, how beautiful you really are.

Blessings,

Christmas Day

Today feels like Christmas!  I just got back yesterday from visiting my in laws house and they offered to keep Abbie for a few more days.  Don't get me wrong, I love my daughter, but I had no idea how exhausting it is being the parent of a toddler.  She NEVER stops moving!  EVER!  My brain needs rest.  I need quiet.  Solitude.  Today, though I'm still taking care of Alex...really feels like I was given a day off!  Alex still sleeps so much that he is so much easier to take care of.

I've been catching up on things-  resting, reading, organizing what my life will look like once I am working again after my maternity leave is over next week, and I feel better already.  My brain was so clouded and overwhelmed and I'm starting to feel like "I've got this!"

Dave of course is at work today, and I think I've proclaimed today a no shower, stay in my jammies day.  Makes me realize I need to do this for myself more.  Just get out...even if its once Dave gets home some evenings-  to go for a walk, sit in the car even, to allow my head to clear!  When there is so much going on around me I can't think.  I can't sit in God's presence and just rest.

Aside from all of that, it is a doubly awesome Christmas like Day, because Alex just went down for a nap by putting himself to sleep, on his tummy, with NO tears!!!  I'm so excited.  He has been so much easier to sleep train for naps then Abbie was.  We had to work pretty hard through crying it out to teach her to self soothe.  In reality it was really only an intense 3-4 days, but Alex I started working with from Day 1 and he has been so much easier. As of right now, Alex isn't even close to sleeping through the night though.  Abbie was at 6 weeks.  So I was hopeful that maybe he would be the same, but he will be 6 weeks next week and I already know, it's not gonna happen by then!

But just look at this cutie patootie...such a sweet little man!

Don't get me wrong though...I have much to be thankful for.  He typically sleeps at least 1 four to five hour stretch a night, is a fast eater, and always goes right back to sleep, so I'm not really losing much sleep.  Interrupted sleep yes, but at least I'm getting sleep and he isn't up every hour at night.

And because I'm nice  crazy  and wanna keep it real, I'll leave you with a picture on this glorious day-  no makeup, unshowered, messy hair me...enjoying some much needed R & R, and quite a bit of coffee :)

Blessings,

Getting into God's Word

So I've been feeling convicted lately.  Convicted about worrying too much and not trusting God enough.

You see I've had two things on my heart a lot lately.  The first is praying about future children.  I struggle with this thought a lot.  Both Dave and I have talked quite a bit about just having two children or having three.  Neither of us is sure what exactly the future holds, but I know I struggle most with not wanting to go through another hard pregnancy.  Before we ever even had Abbie we thought God may actually have us adopt before we had biological children.  Obviously He had other plans in mind...

Enter Exhibit A and B :)

So since we don't want our children to be 5 years apart and we've also discussed adoption, as soon as Alex was born my mind started racing about "what next."  (Have I mentioned I'm really type A...you couldn't tell right?  :)  Did we need to start an adoption process?  Are we done?  I have no idea yet, but I know I need to press into God about it.

The other worry is about my future.  We know for now my role has become more of an at home role, but it is our desire that one day I will be working more.  My #1 desire for whatever that looks like is that I can always put God, my marriage, and my children first before a career.  As many of you know though, my heart has deep desires and what I ultimately feel God has called me to, and that is to speak to and encourage women.  My heart feels most full when I am able to use this spiritual gift.  So I also worry about what that looks like.  I worry about choosing the right path.  I worry about whether I should go back to school or not.  I worry about making mistakes and choosing the wrong things, and just recently it hit me....I was spending all kinds of time online researching different career and adoption options, and hardly anytime actually reading God's word and praying about either issue.   I was convicted as I realized how little of God's word I actually know and how much more I need to know.  The hard part is, when you are raising small children your devotion time is no longer much "time" at all.  It's actually more so done in small snippets.  A bible verse here, an uttered pray there.  Most days my heart is left craving a quiet moment for myself, and hardly time for a Savior, and let's not even talk about the leftovers my husband often gets.  This in and of itself leads to its own conviction.....I NEED Jesus.  Period.  I can't do any of this life without him.  When I start my day with my feet running, I am soon encompassed by burnout.

No answers will ever come from my God about adoption or another pregnancy, or a career choice in the future unless I spend time with Him and ask Him.  Unless I spend time in His word and get to know His heart better.

As I thought about this more, I realized how little of God's word I actually know.  I've tried bible reading plans before only to hate them cause they made me feel like a failure every time.  I knew my moments in the word would still be limitd because of the demand that young children come with. So I started looking around and found this....

A Bible Reading Plan for Shirkers and Slackers

Now that sounds right up my alley!  What I need to finally understand is that it doesn't matter if I don't have hours to spend in God's word everyday.  What matters is that I am in it.  That His word is what leads my days, not my to do list.  I like the way this reading plan is set up.  It has every part of the bible assigned to each day of the week.  What I've been doing is reading 1 chapter a day and just crossing that chapter off once it's finished.  If I miss a day, I pick up on the next assigned reading on that particular day....no playing catch up and feeling guilty about it.  It's doable.  Even for me.  I printed a copy off to keep with my bible so that I can map out my progress and someday...though maybe 3 years from now, I will finish.

Now I'm gonna be honest.  It's still a fight to finish even 1 chapter a day.  Last week I sat down to read next to Abbie while she was playing.  I literally had to get up and down 5 or 6 times due to Abbie or Alex's needs before the entire chapter got read....1 chapter!!!  It's hard but I know it's right.  If I don't let God's word lead me in all areas of my life then someday I am going to look back and regret how much I failed to submit to His will, and that ultimately is what this life is all about....that I say "yes God" to wherever He leads me and allow Him to change my heart to become more like His.

Do any of you struggle with reading the bible?  Would you be interested in joining me as I work my way through it?  No matter if it takes you 1 year or 5, what ultimately matters is that you are letting God's word lead your heart!

Blessings,

Picking Up the Pieces

A friend of mine recently told me she was expecting and asked for prayer.  She was struggling.  Felt awful and miserable and was just struggling to find the joy in her pregnancy.  She told me cause she knows I truly and fully get it.  She asked for prayer for an attitude change.  I told her if it was one thing I regret most during my pregnancy it was how quickly I turned inward to try and help myself and how seldom I turned to prayer and God's word.  The two things that would have helped me most were the hardest for me to turn to.

I confessed to Dave the other day that one of my biggest struggles during this pregnancy was feeling like God was punishing me for something.  Questioning Him what I did to deserve the way I felt for 9 months.  It's only been now that I recognized that for the lie that it was.  I questioned my worth.  And it's just been now, after the fact that I am once again grasping God NEVER stops loving His children.  Ever!

This past Sunday during worship at church I actually felt God's closeness again.  Something I haven't felt for 9 months.  At times He felt so far and I felt so alone.  Worship is hard for me.  I have a really hard time getting my mind in the right place.  Focusing.  Letting go of all the other things on my mind and truly just letting things be all about God in that moment. This morning was different.  He brought renewed hope and peace that I hadn't had in a long time.

photo credit

Hillsong's "This is Our God" was played.  As a tear dripped down my cheek, I felt Him there.  In a way I hadn't in a long time.  Flashes of the last 9 months came to mind as the words sunk in.  Brought healing that I didn't even know I needed.....

Your grace is enough.  More than I need

Yes God.  

I wait for you.  Draw near again.  And your spirit make me new.

It was here that the tears started to freely flow.  For so long I felt like God was so far away and this morning He whispered..."I was never gone.  I never asked you to do it on your own."  And though I know I fought and fought to take the battle on myself....He really had held me the whole time.  I was just fighting too hard to give in and let Him carry the burden for me.

The next song, Chris Tomlin's "Our God," and God just broke me....

Our God is greater, our God is stronger, God you are higher than any other.
Our God is Healer, Awesome in Power, Our God! Our God!

And if our God is for us, then who could ever stop us.
And if our God is with us, then what could stand against.
And if our God is for us, then who could ever stop us.
And if our God is with us, then what could stand against.
What could stand against.

And with that I knew, He didn't abandon me for 9 months to watch me suffer.  God doesn't promise happiness all the time.  God doesn't promise a life without struggles.  He doesn't even promise comfort.  But He is always greater.  Always stronger.  Always bigger than the hardest parts.  

He's bigger than cancer.  Bigger than a miscarriage.  Bigger than infertility.  Bigger than a spouse dying.  Bigger than a tragic car accident.  Bigger than a layoff.  Bigger than all of it.  

And though I have to be honest, I'm not really willingly signing up to have another nauseous filled pregnancy in the future.  We actually aren't sure what the future holds for our family and whether we are having more children or not, but I do know that if we do have another, God will carry me through it. 

In the middle of the hard things it's so easy to feel lost.  Alone.  Scared.  Feeling like there is nowhere to turn, but I encourage you, don't take your eyes off of Jesus for a moment.  For the one thing that is easiest to forget to do, is the only thing that will bring any hope to the deepest aches of your heart.

Blessings,

Beyond the Belly

(photo credit)

It's funny isn't it?  How one moment we can go from everyone telling us how cute our baby bump is, to finding ourselves looking into a hospital mirror at a stomach that now looks like a 3 month old wrinkly deflated balloon.  

I myself immediately go to thoughts of fear.  What if it doesn't go back?  What if I can't lose the baby weight?  What if, what if.....why?  Why do I care so much and to whom am I actually caring for?

My mind immediately reverts back to those junior high and high school feelings of wanting to be the most popular, pretty girl who always has a boyfriend.  The one who always gets asked to dances.  The one that everyone wants to be like.  The real fear here is if I do not fit (fill in the blank)_______________ criteria, then no one will want me.

Oh the desire of the female heart- to be loved, to be wanted, to feel secure.  It's been 12 years since I graduated high school, and 6 or 7 since I struggled with an eating disorder, and yet the most insecure areas of my heart still struggle with this.  I want to be loved.  Wanted.  Desired.

I want to feel lovely and beautiful.

How quickly satan can take such a beautiful thing like pregnancy, and birth and turn it into a thing to be feared.  How standing in line at a grocery store almost always guarantees a chance for someone to be judging the latest celebrities rapid post partum weight loss or lack thereof.  How once again the lies quickly tantalize and tease us into a comparison trap.  A comparison that we aren't good enough.  That our bodies are now flawed by lose skin and stretch marks instead of more beautiful because of the life that was birthed from them.

God's word is my anchor, and though my heart still struggles to believe it.  I must continue to put his word in front of me.  To truly accept and know His word is truth, and to name those thoughts of unworthiness, undesirable, unwanted, and unloved as exactly what they are....lies.

His word tells me....

 I am beautiful.  There is no flaw in me.
Song of Songs 4:7 (paraphrase)

He is enthralled by my beauty and to honor him for he is my lord
Psalm 45:11 (paraphrase)

I was created in His image (and last I knew God was perfect!)  He created me perfectly, and I am exactly who I am supposed to be.
Genesis 1:27 (paraphrase)

He knit me together before I was even born.  I am fearfully and wonderfully made and His works are wonderful.  Every single day of my life has been planned by Him before I ever even came into existence.
Psalm 139:13-16 (paraphrase)


This body birthed two lives.  Two little souls who have grown me in more ways in 3 years than I ever did in the previous 27.  Isn't that really what this life is all about anyway?  Living everyday for Him?  For my deepest desire in this life isn't to have a perfect body, the nicest home, or most successful job. No, my deepest desire is that one day, when this life is over, that I would meet my Jesus and hear him say "Well done good and faithful servant, well done."

Blessings,

Alexander Benjamin: An Unexpected Delivery!

He's here!  And that's right....our baby is a boy!

(before I go any further I should probably warn you.....I didn't hold back on many details of Alex's Birth Story.  So if you are a bit squeamish, well then don't say I didn't warn you later!)

Oh geez....Alex's Birth Story.  Where do I even begin?  There's something so intriguing about reading a birth story.  I never really cared about them until I was expecting my own child, but once I was, I loved reading them.  And when they are your own, each moment is so vivid, even the bad ones create memories impressioned on your heart and mind for forever.  It always amazed me that my own mom could recite each of her 5 children's birth dates, birth weights, lengths, and each personal story without hardly having to try to remember details.  Now I get it.  My own children's stories have impressioned my heart for forever.  

Alexander's birth story is definitely one I don't want to forget any details of.  There was absolutely nothing "normal" about it and if his entrance into the world is any sort of precursor of what surpises he will share with us in his life than I can assure you we are in for a wild ride!

Most of you know from my previous post that I was pretty done being pregnant after having insane nausea and heartburn for 9 months.  So when week 37 of my pregnancy arrived, and I knew our baby was finally full term, I was plotting all the ways I could get him or her out and into my arms so I could be done being pregnant!  My hopes were somewhat high but my dose of reality was that Abigail arrived almost a week overdue.  I didn't want to be too hopeful in that our second child would be more punctual.

On April 11th I started my first set of false labor contractions.  Timeable.  Getting hope filled.  Only for them to stop after 10 hours.  The next day yielded similar results.  Contractions for several hours.  Most timeable, only to stop.  I then do what all good mothers do....googled everything under the sun about false labor vs real labor, natural ways to induce labor, etc.  Of course this made me even more anxious.  I tried to fit in small prayers as I could to keep my focus on what was important, that this baby would come exactly in God's timing, but it was half hearted.  Every part of my being wanted to wish into existence that this pregnancy would be over...NOW!   Monday April 14th marked week 39 for me.  I had my appointment with my midwife that morning.  Hardly anything had changed.  I was a solid 2cm dilated, but everything else was the same.  Still for this being my second baby, things really could change at any second.  I just kept remembering Abbie's tardiness and 29 hours of labor and really hoped that wasn't the case for this baby.

The early morning hours of April 15th I remember tossing a bit in my sleep.  I had quite a bit of cramping that night and in efforts to potentially move things along had tried using a natural supplement that can help your body better prepare for labor called Evening Primrose Oil.  I awoke around 3:30 out of bed from the cramping with some timeable contractions for several hours.  I decided to do my morning workout around 7:30 and they stopped completely.  Abbie and I went to the bible study we attend on Tuesday mornings around 9:30 and my contractions started again while there.  Some braxton hicks, nothing intense.  Afterwards my friends watched Abbie while I did a few laps around the church to see if they continued.  Of course they stopped.  Abbie and I went home then and took a nap.  Our afternoon and early evening were pretty normal- playing, dinner, getting Abbie ready for bed, and the house was a bit chaotic so I decided to clean pretty much my entire weeks worth of cleaning in case baby did come.  We had been planning for Dave's parents to watch Abbie while we were at the hospital and I didn't want to leave our house in complete shambles for them.  Shortly after Abbie went to bed around 7:45 or 8PM I did have what the female world calls 'show."  I'll spare you details, but I practically ran singing out of the bathroom to tell Dave.  When I was due with Abbie, I had show and within 24 hours was in labor.  At that point I knew baby was coming, but also knew it may be a day or two.

We got Abbie off to bed and settled and I decided since I had had show, but no contractions I would sit on my birthing ball for awhile and see if I could get something started.  Within about 5 minutes my contractions started.  These were more than braxton hicks.  Definitely real, about 30-40 seconds in length and ranging anywhere from 4-7 minutes long.  Nothing abnormal to me.  They weren't hard.  With Abbie I had those type of contractions for 24 hours so I wasn't concerned.  I decided to take the dog on a short walk at about 8:30.  I decided at that point if my contractions did continue then I would call Dave's parents and tell them that I thought the baby was coming tonight but probably wouldn't actually give birth until the next day.  We had planned all along for Dave's parents to come, but also had a back up who lived 10 minutes away to watch Abbie if needed before they could arrive.  After my walk my contractions were about the same and I then knew this was definitely it.  I called his parents and they left by 9:30.  I knew they would arrive around 11:30 or 12.  I texted my friend Brit who was our nearby stand in to tell her to keep her phone close, but that we probably wouldn't need her since Dave's parents were on their way, but just in case we needed her in a hurry to be ready.  

From about 9:30-10PM I was finishing up some work things for my job at Hearts at Home.  Called my boss and gave her the last minute info she would need to take over any of my responsibilities in my absence.  I remember getting off the phone with her around 10PM and still laughing and talking.  Contractions were about the same.  Around 10:30 contractions started getting a little harder, couldn't talk through them very well, but still they were the same length apart and only about 30-40 seconds long.  Around 10:45 I called my friend Christy who was somewhat of a contact person for me during labor.  She also likes to have natural deliveries, and it's nice when you are in labor to have a person to call to encourage you to keep going, or ask questions to if needed.  I was having some symptoms that I wanted to ask her about.  During this period I was swaying back and forth holding my belly during contractions, and finally got to the point of dropping on all fours to take the weight off my back and pressure off my cervix.  After talking with her I knew we needed to go to the hospital now.  Dave called Brittany around 11PM and told her we needed her to come now.  I started feeling more pressure and knew if I didn't stay on all fours this baby was gonna come soon and we weren't going to make it to the hospital.  I continued to crawl around on all fours, breathing through contractions as necessary and throwing a few last items into my suitcase.  Dave was frantically packing the car.  At somewhere around 11:10 my water broke.  I cried out for Dave and knew immediately we weren't going to make it to the hospital.  I yelled to him that my water broke and he said "We can still make it..we have an hour!" (What?  Seriously...where did he come up with that?  I was like "No...we don't.  This baby is coming.  I need you to call an ambulance. "  Surprisingly I was pretty calm in my instructions to him.  Not yelling.  Just insistent.  He tried calling my midwife first which you have to go through an answering service to get to them.  The man from the answering service obviously didn't get the frantic urgency Dave was trying to impress on him so Dave hung up on them and then called 911.  Brittany arrived at 11:15.  She told me later she didn't think I was as far along as I said I was, but nevertheless did a great job of faking that she believed me.

After my water broke I crawled into the hallway onto the wood floor so I wouldn't make a mess on the carpet (Hey, what can I say....I'm a really nice laboring mama.  Even if no one else in my house believed me at that moment I knew I was giving birth at home so I might as well not have to clean up after it later!)  Brittany came and rubbed my back and reminded me to breath.  I sat on all fours as still as I could.  Afraid to move because I knew if I did anything else, the moment anything was stimulated this baby was coming and it was gonna be time to push.  I was trying to hold off until the paramedics got there.  After that I felt things coming.  I immediately fell to the ground on my side/back and let out the loud moanish, pushing groan/yelling grunt many of us I'm sure know very well.  (I really don't know how else to describe it....the outside world may think it's a scream but to the laboring women it's really not....its your bodies valiant effort to push with everything you have to bring life into this world).  Unfortunately at that moment I realize I am giving birth in front of my daughter's bedroom door, because her door opens and she runs out screaming.  Brittany later told me her first interaction with Abbie went something like this "Hi Abbie (fake excited smile on Brittany's face) mommy is having the baby!  Mommy is ok, don't worry!"  (Even though to the 3 year old it probably looked like her mother was dying on the floor!)  Dave stepped over me and whisked Abbie away.  At that point I ripped my pants off and started pushing.  It was at this point (Brittany later told me) that she finally started to believe me when she saw the head crowning.  I had nothing to brace my feet on to push so finally reached down to help pull the baby out and with one or two more pushes, pushed him out as Brittany grabbed him.  Dave was still on the phone with the dispatcher at the time and quickly his plea went from please send an ambulance to, the baby was just born!  The dispatcher named the time of birth as 11:23PM.  Brittany laid him on top of me after he was born, swept his mouth out as best as she could and made sure he started crying.  She told me it was a boy, and all my fears of being a boy mom just felt neutral in that moment.  There was no feeling of disappointment.  Just relief.  Acceptance that God had always known that this baby was a boy and that he gave Him to me for good reason.

I laughed later that at this point I asked Dave for towels to cover up.  After all I basically was baring all to my friend on the floor in our hallway.  The funny part comes in the fact that Dave handed me a white towel.  Anyone who knows my type A tendencies will not be surprised at my response to this.  I looked at him and said "Not the white ones!"  His prompt reply was "Bridget, we will buy new!"  Haha!  I think it's hilarious that I even cared about such a thing during this whole situation!

The paramedics arrived about 5 minutes after he was born and brought with them what looked to be a small army.  They tried to fit 5 or 6 men in our hallway where Brit and I were already taking up some of the not very large amount of space.  I wasn't the most coherent at this point.  I remember being in pain because I hadn't delivered the placenta yet and was still getting somewhat strong contractions.  Alex sitting on top of me was making me more painful, but we couldn't move him until they cut his umbilical cord.  Both Brit and I realized relatively quickly that many of these paramedics were relatively green when it came to their knowledge of Birth and Newborn Care 101.  She heard one say as he was getting ready to cut the cord, "6 inches right?" to one of the other paramedics.  Then slowly counted off what must of been his approximate 6 inch mark.  Brit was just like "seriously guys, come on!"

I believe I was in an out of a conscience shocky state at that point.  I remember bits and pieces.  I don't think I ever really passed out, but the state of shock I was in left me remember only parts of everything after Alex was born.  Brit told me later that one of the paramedics accidentally kicked me in the head as they were maneuvering around me in the hallway.  Evidently I grabbed my face and moaned "ow!"  I found this to be hilarious as Dave, Brit, and I all shared bits and pieces of the story later on so we could fully make sense of each of our perspectives at the scene.

I remember that I kept looking at Brittany and crying for different reasons, the first was tears of " I can't believe I just did that to my friend."  The second was tears of "I'm so thankful she is here to help me make sure he is ok until the paramedics arrive."  The third was my being in disbelief that everything that just happened, actually happened!  I kept apologizing to her and saying "I'm so sorry Brit!"

I'm pretty sure that our entire condo and surrounding condos knew what was happening.  My neighbors of course heard my loud "screams/groans."

I don't remember much from the ride to the hospital either.  I was still contracting from not having delivered the placenta and finally I decided enough is enough and took care of that problem myself on the ambulance.  The paramedics wouldn't touch me to help me deliver it and I was sick of still contracting.  I immediately felt better after it was out!  The one main thing I remember about the drive there was after I delivered the placenta, one of the paramedics then was shuffling through cupboards on the ambulance to find something to put the placenta in and came up with something that was about 2 x the size of a dixie cup......yeah, right sir, that is not gonna help!

They checked us over at the hospital and after some fluids and IV ibuprofen I felt much better.  Alex was healthy as a horse and weighed in at 8# 12oz and 21 1/2 inches long.  I didn't have any tearing and finally was starting to come out of my shocky state and feel a bit more coherent.

We are so blessed to have all been ok.  Though Alex's birth story wasn't a planned one, it was perfect.  He's perfect.

Before our baby arrived I was afraid.  Afraid of being a boy mom.  I was confident it was a girl.  From the moment he arrived I knew it would be ok.  God has equipped me to be the perfect mom to Abigail and Alexander and though I know often times I will feel insufficient, I know He will provide more than enough for me to be the best mom I can be for each of them.

Now, just a week or so later, I'm loving being his mommy.  He is the sweetest baby.  Such an amazing nurser, sleeper, and both Dave and I are pretty content with our family.  A boy and a girl!  We honestly never thought we'd have one of each, and I can't wait to see all that God has in store for our littles in the years to come! 

Blessings,