Once More With Feeling

What's my line?

2010-04-04T21:30:00.008-04:00

For those of you who don't know, Lydia, my firstborn, started preschool in February. Of course she just loves it--I knew she would. I had planned on waiting until she was in kindergarten to send her to school, but after having Virginia we thought we might all benefit from her getting out a couple days a week. So she now attends a little church preschool 3 days a week for 4 hours a day Last week they held a "vocabulary parade", which is Lydia's first public speaking experience. Each kid dressed up in a costume inspired by a vocabulary word, then stood on stage and said their word and the definition. We decided to do the word recycle. We made a costume out of a paper bag and taped cans and bottles and cardboard to it. I drew the recycle symbol on the front. We practiced and practiced. Lydia, whats your word? "Recycle". And what does it mean? "to re-use instead of throw away!". She had it DOWN. She did perfect in practice. So the day arrives and I show up, all proud and excited for my little girl. She looks awesome in her costume. On her turn, she gets on stage. The director asks her her word, she looks out with a smile on her face, and proudly says...."garbage!". "things we throw away". Um... huh? Where did that come from? It was hilarious, and embarrassing in a not-so-serious way. I could just hear the other parents thinking they teach their kids to throw away that stuff? We recycle, I swear! But truly, it was mostly just amusing. When I asked her about it afterward, she seemed to have no idea what I was talking about. If you ask her she'll tell you she said "recycle". The kid is easily distracted.

it's not as gross as it sounds

2010-03-02T15:06:00.005-05:00

advisory...somewhat graphic photos below

You may or may not know that I consumed my placenta after Virginia's birth. This knowledge may or may not gross you out. But I wanted to share with you my experience, if you so choose to read on.

All along my journey through motherhood, I'll hear about something and dismiss it as weird or gross. Cloth diapering... what, people still do that? Mama cloth...eww, never! Homebirth...wait you mean, like, not at the hospital? Delayed/selective vaxing... whats wrong with the regular schedule? So when I first heard about placenta encapsulation, my first reaction was, that is WAY out there, I'll never do that. But like in every other situation, I am an information junkie. When I hear about something, I want to know what it is. I research. Along with the plethora of information I find on the internet, much of my research comes from my darling online community called Diaper Swappers, where I can find women who have done pretty much every kind of parenting there is. Granted this is not the most scientific source, but it is testimony of really mothers doing real things, and I find that to be invaluable.

Anyway, by the time I was big and heavy with Virginia, I had read all about the benefits of placenta consumption, how to do it, and who to call if I don't want to do it myself. But I still wasn't planning on it. One of the primary benefits is to balance out hormones and prevent postpartum depression, which has never been a problem in the past so I didn't expect it to be an issue this time. After the birth we put the placenta in the freezer, unwilling to throw it out but unsure what we were going to do with it. Two weeks out I was an emotional wreck, and like all those other things I thought were weird, I found myself contemplating something that I thought I'd never do. I decided to encapsulate my placenta (which is the act of turning my placenta into little pills that I can take). Ideally this is done the day of the birth, but I knew I'd still get lots of benefits from it. So I enlisted a birthy friend's help and a week later got to work. Below is a summary of the process:

Here's my placenta, rinsed and ready to cook!

Steaming. This did NOT smell good!

Cut up and ready to dehydrate. And yes, that heart is the umbilical cord. I proudly wave my freak flag.

Dried and powdered, filling the pills.

The finished product. I made about 60 pills, but still have a lot of the powder left to make more when I run out.

So here I am two months later--a cloth diapering, mama cloth wearing, homebirthing, delayed vaxing, placenta-eating mama. I am still taking my placenta pills. Did it help? Well I don't know for sure whether it was time, activity, or the pills that healed my wounds (or a combo of all), but I can tell you that I started feeling better about the time I started taking them.

Birth story

2010-02-08T22:05:00.005-05:00

Its been a while... but I thought I'd post about the birth of my sweet new baby girl, Virginia Kay. It won't be as eloquent as my sister's beautiful post about the birth, but it is from my perspective and a lot more detailed. Enjoy! Beware, this will be LONG. A good read if you've got some time to kill.

Our story starts at 37 weeks pregnant, which was the first time I went into labor. I woke up at 4am with contractions, mainly in my back. They were strong enough to keep me out of bed. I thought this was it, and called Debbie (my midwife) at 6am. My mom came over and stayed with me that day, but in the afternoon the contractions went away. Still, we thought the real thing would be at any moment. This same thing happened again at 38 weeks, so when I hit 40 weeks I was quite surprised to still be pregnant. I didn't even reach my due date in either of my other pregnancies. At my 40 week appointment I was so over being pregnant. I had Debbie check my cervix and wanted her to strip my membranes. To my dismay she could barely even reach my cervix, and it was still thick and about 1-2cm dilated. This is unusual for me too, as I had dilated to 4cm by no later than 39 weeks in previous pregnancies. I went home crying, sure I would never go into labor. The next day I wrote out a pep-talk to myself: you WILL go into labor... your body grew this baby, your body can birth this baby... It helped. Over the next two weeks I had a few more bouts of prodromal labor, but it always fizzled out, even after lasting a whole day. I was desperate to have this baby, and trying everything to get her out.

Christmas came, still pregnant. 42 weeks, Oy! The next day (42+1) I called Debbie to talk options. I was DONE. I was pretty sure that if she broke my water I'd go quick, but neither of us really wanted to do that cold. We also discussed doing a biophysical profile with the OB on Monday, but I didn't like that much either. We finally decided to try stripping my membranes again, and if that triggered labor Debbie would come break my water. We were committing--no fizzling out this time. At the appointment I measured 37 weeks and wondered if the baby was losing weight. Ha! Anyway, the stripping worked and on the way home I started having some decent contractions, about two minutes apart. They remained consistent throughout the car ride and during a brisk walk with my mom at home. After about an hour I called Debbie to tell her I was in labor, and she said she'd come over. I also called my sister Jenny and friend (and doula) Pam.

We packed the girls off with my dad, and Jamie, my mom, and I waited, me laboring on the birth ball. Jenny arrived, followed by Rachael, Corrinna (the apprentices), and Pam. I felt strange that all these people were here to watch me, and a little self-conscious. Were there too many people? Later I'd be grateful for all those hands... Debbie was the last to arrive, having been detained by a flat tire! Thankfully it was fixed quickly and she arrived around 3pm. We went into the bedroom where she checked my cervix, and found me to be about 3-4cm but very thin and stretchy. We decided to go ahead with breaking my water.

I could tell with the next contraction that things had changed. Ow! Now THAT was more like it! I asked Jamie to fill the birth pool. The contractions were rapidly gaining strength. I went into the hallway to breathe through one and saw Debbie come toward me beaming. She said "I'm sorry, but I'm just so happy to see you in pain!" Me too, Debbie. Me too.

It was getting intense, quickly. I wanted to get in the pool but it wasn't ready. I used the 30 seconds I had between each contraction to get ready for the tub--take off clothes (breathe, sway), put on sports bra (move, moan), put hair in pigtails (pant, breathe, lean on Pam). I think Debbie was a little shocked at just how quickly this had worked--I was vocalizing not even 15 minutes after breaking my water.

I got in the pool before it was full. We had run out of hot water. I was pissed. I snapped at Jamie for not divining that the hot water would run out and planning accordingly. This marked the beginning of transition. I was shaking badly. The tub wasn't hot enough so they were boiling water with every pot we had, plus our electric kettle (handy little thing). I was also beginning to complain that my uterus wasn't completely relaxing between contractions. This feeling intensified until the contractions were just rolling on top of each other with no break in between. I couldn't catch my breathe. I felt tense, like I couldn't get on top of them. What I would've given for a 30 second break! My back killed, I HAD to have pressure, massage, hot water on my lower back. All at once. Harder. Not there, over there. Harder! I had four pairs of hands pressing on my back, and it wasn't enough. I had to move my body. Bounce. Sway. I wanted to get up and run away, but I knew I couldn't walk even if I tried.

This all lasted about an hour and a half. It felt crazy, chaotic, intense. Out of control. But I managed. I had no choice. I tried to let it roll over me. I did whatever I needed to at each moment just to survive. There was no such thing as comfort, just "ok, this will work for a minute". The next minute it might not, but we'll deal with that later. I went from silent to growling to crying to laughing. Yes! I laughed again, just like in Juliet's birth! I LOVE that. I laughed hysterically at nothing in particular. It was the easiest moment of my labor, even though I roared through the next contraction.

Throughout this time I steadily began feeling more pressure until I was bearing down a little with the contractions. Debbie checked me at one point and I was 8-9, although I didn't really care how far along I was. If the baby was still in me it wasn't far enough. I never got the overwhelming urge to push like my last birth, just really intense pressure. When I would push in earnest I'd get a bad cramp in my butt, so I had to take it easier. I'd push through some contractions, then breathe through some. I had a lip, then it was gone. Debbie told me the baby was right there, feel her! Push her out! (easy for you to say). Push! Ow! Cramp! Stop pushing! Push again! Ow! Finally the pushing felt different and I could feel her coming down. Ring of fire. High pitched scream. Crowning...this is it...maybe...no? Still crowning. Half of head out. Why is this taking so long? Head out. Yay! Now this is really it...maybe...no...

At this point things get a little hazy for me. I remember what happened but not really how it felt. It seemed quick and so slow at the same time. I was semi-sitting as I pushed the head out. When Debbie told me to flip onto my hands and knees, the doula in my head immediately turned to that page in Ina May's Guide to Childbirth about the Gaskin Maneuver. Shoulder Dystocia. Don't think, just do what she tells me. Stand up. No, this isn't working. Walk to the bed (or waddle as the case may be). I end up on my hands and knees, gripping the headboard, pushing with all my might while Debbie pulls desperately on the baby's head. Please, baby, please come out! I had no urge to push, but was trying as hard as I could. Still not working. Flip over, Melanie. Knees to your ears. PUSH!

"Debbie, just cut me if you need to!"
"Trust me, that wouldn't help."

I don't remember the pain, but I remember how hard it was. How ineffective it felt. Everyone around me encouraging me, begging me to push, and feeling like it wasn't doing a damn thing. How much time has gone by? Debbie finally reaches her arm inside me, behind the head, and releases the shoulder that is stubbornly caught on my pubic bone. I feel the baby come out of me. Finally! I cry. I can't look down yet. I'm waiting. Debbie is rubbing the baby with a towel. Then I hear it, the sound I'm waiting for. A sweet baby cry. Oh my God! The sweetest sound in the whole world. I cry harder and look down at my baby. My relief in this moment is as powerful as the contractions that were gripping my body minutes ago. Debbie places Virginia on my belly and I meet my baby girl. She is beautiful and perfect. And HUGE. Its like those movie birth scenes where they hold up the obviously 3-month-old baby and pretend its a newborn. Yeah right, nice try guys.

An initial check reveals a brachial plexus palsy in her right arm, a tender neck, and some bruising, but otherwise Virginia has come away unscathed. We try nursing but she'd rather just rest awhile (can you blame her?). I just stare out her, overwhelmed by everything. We all slowly start breathing normally again, and then even begin smiling, laughing, joking. Crisis over! A child is born! Joy! About 90 minutes later Debbie does the newborn exam. The moment of truth: Debbie weighs Virginia. "Mind if I snicker?", she says after reading the scale to herself. She turns it around and we all shriek. 10 pounds!! What?! I just gave birth to a 10 pound baby. In my bed. At home. Surrounded by people I love and trust. More Joy. My heart swells. What an experience!

I am now 6 weeks postpartum. It has been a tough recovery involving blood, sweat, tears, milk, fever, phone calls, car crashes, chiropractors, and (ahem) placentophagy. But most of all love. Support. Community. Family.

Congratulations if you made it this far! Thanks for sharing my experience.

no-poo

2009-06-02T09:37:00.002-04:00

I've still felt on this kick on natural cleaning supplies--both for the house and the body. The last week or two I've been washing my face with olive oil, and today was my first day trying the "no-poo" method of hair cleaning. First I had to let it get nice and greasy so I didn't wash it for 6 days. Last night when I took it out of its ponytail and it maintained the ponytail shape, I figured it was ready to go. So this morning I took my bath and mixed some baking soda with water, poured it over my head and massaged it into my roots. Rinsed, then mixed Apple Cider Vinegar with water, poured it over hair, and rinsed. It felt way different than using shampoo and conditioner. Post-shower I combed my hair and it felt pretty soft. Its still wet so we'll see how it feels when its dry.

I did, however, lose about a pound of hair during my bath. Seriously I think I could've donated the collective hairball I made to a wig company. I don't know if its normal, or just because I let my hair get so greasy, or maybe something to do with the pregnancy? Oh well.

So that covers face and hair. Anybody have a good natural recipe for body cleaning?? ;-)

Anyway I'm off to get ready. I have my first appointment with my homebirth midwife, and then a much-awaited playdate with a friend I haven't seen in nearly a year!

Gone

2009-05-20T09:48:00.002-04:00

Yes, you've probably wondered where my blog has gone. Its been over a month since I've blogged. Sorry everyone, I didn't mean to neglect it so much.

The fact is that I've been feeling like major crap since last time I blogged. I think pretty much everyone who reads this already knows that I'm pregnant. Well, morning sickness reared its ugly head 3 or 4 weeks ago and is really knocking me down. I feel nauseated and exhausted ALL. THE. TIME. I don't remember it being quite this bad with the previous two, but maybe its just that I'm in the throws of it right now so it just seems worse. Or maybe its because I now have to take care of two small children this time while feeling so sick.

I've also had a few complications this time around. I have something called a subchorionic bleed, which is like a clot in between the uterine wall and the gestational sac. It has caused some bleeding and cramping, and I'm on instructions to rest, avoid excercise, and try not to pick up the kids (when possible). The no-excercise thing kinda stinks because I miss my yoga class and bet that it would help me feel a lot better. The good news is that the baby is doing well, and as much as I hate the morning sickness it as at least a little reassuring. I've had 3 ultrasounds already to check the bleed, and its fun to see the little jelly bean in there! If I get a chance I'll scan the pics in and post them.

As for my nutrition plan, that is definitely on hold at the moment. I'm basically in survival mode for eating right now, and I just have to go with what sounds good (even if its junk food). Unfortunately I have a habit of developing aversions to things I ate in early pregnancy, which this time around means roasted veggies, greens, and whole grains. Basically everything healthy, ha!

Anyway, all this to say that I'm going to try giving this blog a little more TLC than its been getting. That also means that from this point on I'm going to stop using Buffy titles as my blog titles (for those of you that noticed), because one of the biggest barriers to me writing recently has been that I don't have the brain energy to sit down and think of a clever title for my blog, so I end up not writing at all.

Thanks for reading--hopefully I'll write again soon!

Goodbye Iowa

2009-04-11T11:27:00.003-04:00

i.e. big corn i.e. processed foods

Well this past couple weeks I've been putting my plan into action. I signed up for a CSA with Moore Farm & Friends and picked up my first box on Wednesday. I also signed up with My Dad & Me Farms to pick up raw milk every other week. I can't tell you how amazing it felt to hand my money straight to the farmer and have them reach in their fridge and hand me a glass jar of milk, while the cows from which the milk came were grazing in the background.

So far I've managed to cook whole foods and nutritious meals every night. This is so new to me but I've really enjoyed it! I've included some pictures of my undertakings from the past week. The only meal I didn't take a picture of was broccoli soup, but I can tell you that it just looks like green slime. Anyway, here we go:

Meal 1: Beets over Beet Greens over Couscous

Meal 2: Broccoli Soup (no pic)

Meal 3: Orzo with Black Beans, Red Peppers, and Avocados in a dressing of Olive Oil, Cumin, Lime Juice, and Garlic.

Meal 4: Vegetable Curry (potatoes, broccoli, carrots, and onions) over Couscous

Meal 5: Fresh Salad with Butter Lettuce, Blackjack Tomatoes, Avocado, and Tilapia in a homemade Red Wine Vinaigrette

And here is picture of my first CSA box! It contained lettuce, cabbage, tomatoes, carrots, and strawberries.

Happy healthy eating everyone!!

The Harvest

2009-04-02T14:28:00.002-04:00

I just got back from an amazing trip to California to visit my sister Amy. It was beyond beautiful out there--sunny, hilly, green. Completely breathtaking. Amy lives in a little A-frame wooden house surrounded by rolling hills and flowers and trees and blue sky. I felt like I was at some spa retreat that you'd pay thousands of dollars to go to. Only better because the host was so awesome.

Anyway the theme of the week was healthy eating. Amy participates in Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) and receives a box of locally grown organic vegetables every week. She then plans her meals around what she gets in the box. Add some whole grains and garlic and a cup of fresh-squeezed O.J. or raw milk to drink and booyah--heavenly meal. Every single thing I ate there was so delicious and felt so good to my body. Oh and the wine. Must include some good wine, hopefully from the organic vineyard you visited earlier that day.

Now that I am back I am full of enthusiasm and motivation. I want to eat this way. I want my family to eat this way. I want to feel good about my food and be able to pronounce and recognize every ingredient that goes into it. I want food to do more than just fill me up, I want it to nourish me.

So I'm letting my enthusiasm carry me as far as I can. I'm joining my own local CSA and attempting to follow the same simple meal-plan as we did in CA. In the meantime I made it a priority to use my first day home to visit the Dekalb farmer's market to pick up new vegetables, grains, and spices. Last night I prepared roasted root veggies and roasted garlic with homemade "mac-n-cheese" (really just pasta with butter and cheese). Tonight I'm making beets and beet greens over couscous.

It doesn't come very naturally to me to be creative in the kitchen or come up with meals, or to cook even (Jamie has done the majority), so this is daunting. But I am so so ready for a nutrition overhaul. I'm hoping my eagerness for healthier living will help the transition into forming a habit of this. I'm counting on my sisters and mother to hold me accountable. You too Jamie!

Oh! And in other news my little vampire-child (who accompanied me to CA) started walking at Aunt Amy's house. Everybody cover your knees!

Who Are You?

2009-03-24T16:08:00.004-04:00

Sometimes I think my (small) obsession with vampires is rubbing off on my children. I'm starting to suspect that Juliet is really a vampire. Here are my reasons:

1. She doesn't sleep at night. Maybe this is because that is the natural time for her to be out and about. Here this whole time I've been trying to get her to sleep all night like a normal girl when maybe she isn't "normal".

2. She doesn't grow. I thought it was just me not being able to get past thinking of her as an 8-month-old, but not so. I just took her to her one year visit yesterday and she pretty much hasn't grown. She's just under the 5th percentile for height and the 10th for weight. You'd never know with all those rolls that she's actually a total shrimp! She hides her petiteness well.

3. (and this is the most convincing) The girl likes to bite. She will try to bite me repeatedly on the arm, leg, wherever she can reach, and cries or screams when I say no. But this is nothing, NOTHING, compared to how enthusiastically she tries to bite other babies' heads. She will claw and kick her way to them in her frenzy to reach their little heads, and fight and shriek when I hold her back. Really its quite disturbing (and hilarious).

Where does this come from? Did I read too much Twilight and watch too much Buffy while she was in utero? Is it because she shares her name with the actress who plays Drusilla? Is it because she was welcomed into the world under the soothing tones of Spike's Ballad (sung by my awesome sister)? Or are my suspicions true and she's been changed? Maybe she's a half-vampire like Renesmee (only with an infinately better name).

Hmm, this post kind of paints me in a crazy light doesn't it?

This Year's Girl

2009-03-16T13:42:00.005-04:00

My baby girl is one year old today. I can't believe it! She seems so much younger to me. I don't know if its because she is short for her age, or that she still nurses so much and wakes up throughout the night, or if its just that she's my baby, but I just cannot get my head around the fact that she is already a year old.

Exactly one year ago I was having my incredible, intense, crazy waterbirth. Its strange how labor can hurt so very much, and yet I still feel nostalgic for the experience. I guess its sort of like running a marathon or climbing a mountain or something, where it feels like hell while you are doing it but afterwords you feel the most amazing sense of accomplishment (plust you get a baby out of it!). I still sometimes watch the birth video and think to myself, "I can't believe I did that!". I've witnessed many a birth and done it twice myself, but it still amazes me that we can actually grow a person inside our bodies, and even more amazingly can push them out. How is that even possible??

Anyway I digress. Juliet is no longer my little newborn, she's my babbling, standing, smiling, bouncing, peek-a-boo playing, clapping, waving, banana eating, cuddling, loving one-year-old little girl. And that, my friends, is just five-by-five.

Here she is just seconds after being born

And here she is celebrating her first birthday!

Living Conditions

2009-03-06T11:17:00.007-05:00

We're moving again! See, we're not very clean people. We tidy a little here and there, but every once in a while the mess builds up so much that its actually easier just to move houses than attempt to clean.

Ok so thats not true, but it is true we are moving! We renewed our lease in December, but I've been feeling quite cramped in our two bedroom apartment. Not that its a small place, but having the girls share a room at this age is HARD. Juliet already wakes up several times a night, so when Lydia wakes her up even more it is pretty infuriating. So yesterday I was sitting there in frustration when I realized, hmm, maybe we can do something about this. I talked to one of the managers and found out that there was a 3 bedroom apartment available here for only $35 more a month than we're paying! Woo hoo! Today we went and filled out the transfer paperwork and toured our new place. I love it! Apart from another bedroom, it also has a nice big laundry room and, best of all, a back door to our own little patch of grass. Yay! Otherwise the apartment is pretty much the same (except its a mirror image, which made me a bit dizzy).

We'll be moving the last Saturday of March. Or more precisely Jamie will be moving, as I will be in California. I did not plan it that way, but that is when we must move. Poor guy--I've been unable to help in our last 3 moves. If anyone is interested in helping (or volunteering their husbands to help) my sweet husband move us a couple hundred yards away, I'd be eternally grateful! Or if you just want to donate a box or two.

And for those who need to keep track of our new address (hard to do since this is our 4th address in 3 years) we will now be 3052A instead of 3046D. Everything else is the same.

I'm so excited!

Teacher's Pet

2009-03-02T20:38:00.004-05:00

Not a giant Praying Mantis, but a small Cockatiel. Meet Ron.

Lydia and Juliet just LOVE him. I find him amusing. He's very friendly and we can get him out and hold him and pet him. When he wants to be let out he hops to the bottom of his cage and paces back and forth really fast. And he likes to groom our hair when he's up on our shoulders.

Come meet him!

I Was Made to Love You

2009-02-25T14:16:00.003-05:00

I went to my yoga class today. I love yoga. I love twisting my body into poses that I never thought I could do. I love how I only think about what my body is doing for an hour and a half, and forget about kids, housework, lifetime drama, and all that. I love that delicious soreness I get later after I've excercised. And I think most of all I love that peaceful feeling I always get during and after I go, like my body and soul have been restored a little bit.

I'm all about restoration recently. Restoring my body (and specifically my health) with vitamins, medicine, rest, good food. Restoring my house to less of a disaster-area like state (little by very little). And definitely restoring my mind and soul. One imperfection about me is that I worry. A lot. When I am worrying, I feel like I have a lot to worry about. But sometimes, in moments of peace, I realize that I really don't need to worry about all that stuff after all. I spoke with a wise friend a little while ago who gave me two wonderful pieces of advice. The first was that in every situation, in everything that happens, I should just say "Wow, God. I can't wait to see how you use this to your glory!" I've been trying it out since then, and yep, it can pretty much work for anything. Its my mantra right now. Sometimes it comes out pretty sarcastically, and sometimes with a little more colorful language added, but after saying it, even if I'm saying as a joke, it has the effect of making me really think to myself that yes, some good could come out of this.

The other piece of advice was that in dealing with other people and their own life problems, drama, etc, that I should always think and act through love, not fear. This is such an amazing statement, and one that I would love to use in every relationship and situation I have. To remember that I am not in charge of other peoples' lives or happiness. What a burden lifted off! Can I really just love them, and not fear for whats gonna happen? What good does it do anyway to fear? Does it make us act any wiser? Does it help them? I doubt it. And I'm pretty sure that if you act purely out of love, you are unlikely to make a mess of things. God tells us above all to love. He made us to love Him and each other. On the other hand, I can't think of anywhere in the bible where it encourages us to fear and lose sleep over other people's problems.

I have a long way to go to make these things habits rather than goals, but so far even just having these things to strive for has made me feel more joy and peace in my life.

Wild at Heart

2009-02-21T13:58:00.003-05:00

We are finally feeling better in the Nasmyth house! To celebrate, I went out last night to a friends birthday party and got my groove on. We had a time, I tell you. A time was had by all. You'd never have believed the bulk of the attendees were from my church mom's group. No flowered dresses and mild manners last night, no sir! We've got some sexy mamas in our group! We all danced our hearts out to a mixture of Nellie, Backstreet Boys, New Kids on the Block, some classic 80's music, and other stuff I can't really remember. I haven't danced that hard in years. We also laughed, ate, drank, shared, and limboed. Nobody turned into a werewolf but it was still wild! It felt soooo good to just kick back, let go, and have fun with close friends! Especially after my seemingly endless confinement.

Today I'm a bit sleepy but very happy with my re-introduction into society. I love my friends!!! I also strongly recommend having dance parties like that monthly. Its good for the soul. And the body--dancing is an awesome workout!

Welcome to the Hellmouth

2009-02-17T08:37:00.002-05:00

By which I mean our house.

We are all STILL sick. Or sick again. Not sure which. We had a break of about two days (Thursday and Friday) before the fevers, coughing, and general feeling like crap started again. We are heading back to the doctor today to see see whats going on. Flu? Maybe.

Thankfully Jamie is still well so he's taking care of his girls. Thank you Jamie--you are much appreciated!

If you pray, please pray that God slays this season of sickness for us.

If you don't pray, please feel sorry for us.

Ok, off to bed in la boca del diablo.

Life Serial

2009-02-08T17:20:00.003-05:00

(warning: long post) (but hopefully entertaining)

Ever have a bad day that just would not end? It just keeps going and going and going?

That was yesterday.

Yesterday started on Thursday.

I've been feeling really tired and rundown recently, partly because Juliet is still a pretty bad sleeper. Anyway Thursday it was exacerbated by the fact that I had a cold. And Jamie had a cold. And Lydia and Juliet had colds. And Juliet had pink eye. So Thursday morning I wake up super tired and feeling sick. Can't go anywhere. Just having an all-over bad day with cranky kids and cranky mommy. I was REALLY looking forward to my nap. When it didn't happen I called Jamie in my despair and he decided to come home (he wasn't feeling well either). I sigh in relief when he gets home until it becomes clear that he is sicker than I am and needs to go to bed. Great. (I know its not your fault Jamie--I don't hold it against you). And then it becomes clear that he is VERY sick and about to present physical evidence of it. So I pack up my kids and rush them out the door to go stay with my parents. Sorry Jamie, you can take care of yourself right? I get to my parent's house and have a fairly quiet evening, although worried about Jamie since hearing he's puked twice and feels vile. I decide to spend the night at my parents. For the kids, you know--don't want to pass daddy's germs around... Ahem. Anyway I go to bed hoping for a fresh start in the morning, only to discover that the day has decided to keep going--I barely slept. Juliet didn't feel like sleeping, and when she did and I crawled into the bed I was sharing with Lydia, I quickly found out that 2-year-olds make very fidgety bed mates.

I woke up at 5 for the day. Jamie still felt horrible and was going to a minute clinic for a strep test, which they didn't do because they didn't think his throat looked streppy enough. I decided to stay at my parents all day and then go home after dinner. Made it through the day tolerably, although still feeling a little coldy and discovering that Lydia had caught Juliet's pink eye. Halfway through the day my client calls to tell me she's been having contractions all day and thinks its early labor. Uh oh. Not tonight, please not tonight. Can you cross your legs? (Of course I didn't really say any of that). I get home that evening feeling dead tired and depressed, and send out a cry for prayer and sympathy to my mom's group. As I'm writing that email about feeling so tired, I get another call from my client. Contractions 5 minutes apart. Will try to go to bed. I decide I'd better try to go to bed (or couch since Jamie had the bed) too and get as much sleep as I can before I get the call. Juliet has other ideas and decides to start crying literally the MINUTE I turn out my light at 10pm. I spend the next hour feeding, pleading, ignoring, crying, and raging. Finally she goes down sometime after 11 and I fall asleep, only to be woken up at 12:45 with The Call.

I get to my client's house at around 1:30. Contractions 3-4 minutes apart. She can't talk through them but she's handling them well. We keep the lights low, use the birth ball. She takes a shower and I watch real-life animal attacks (ick) with her husband. She gets out of the shower and we work some more. Talk about the plan. What to expect. She says she can't imagine the pain getting worse than this. Oh, sweetie. You have no idea. I try to prepare her without scaring her. You will measure it on a different scale at the end. But you are strong and capable.

The contractions get closer together. She loses a big fat bloody mucous plug (sorry to any men reading this). We decide to go to the hospital. She decides to ride with me. I embarrassingly realize my gas light is on and have to stop for gas on the way to the hospital. We get there at 5am and she's 5cm. Good job! You'll be out of here in no time with the frequency of these contractions...

Three hours later she is 6cm. Four hours later she is 6-7cm. Somewhere in between these checks I hit my wall. I am SO exhausted. I take a pumping break and cry and call friends for moral support.

When they check her at 12:30 and she hasn't changed, the doc breaks her water. Ok. NOW things will move quickly!! My client discovers that new scale of pain I told her about. She discovers it for three hours straight. The doctor checks her again. She is 7. Are you kidding me??? We talk about it and decide to go for the epidural. She is too exhausted and in pain to keep going and expect progress. She is too tense, her body needs to relax. With an epi. And pit to speed things up. Not the birth plan, but the best option at this point. Its now 4pm. I escape again for more pumping and crying. I go get food for the first time all day. My cold feels worse and worse. My voice is shot. I am so tired I actually think I might pass out. And did I mention that it turns out Jamie DOES have strep throat. Great. There is a pity-party in town and I'm hosting!!! I call a wise friend. She tells me that God often stretches us a thin as we can be (much like a cervix) so that a new, stronger us can emerge from the cosmic vagina. Ok, I added that last part. She said I will find energy and strength beyond what I know I have. I am being prayed for.

She must have been right because somehow I managed to stay alive and conscious. The details get a little hazy though as I'm quite certain my mind was working on some back-up generator that only allowed me to perform functions essential to the moment. Lets just say progress continued at a snails pace (much like this blog post, you might say).

At about 9pm my client and her husband must've noticed the significant deterioration of my mental and physical state, because they told me I should go home. She didn't really need me so much now that she had her epi. She was at 9cm and the doctor was gonna check her soon, so we decided I'd wait and see what he said. If she was complete I'd stay for the pushing, if she wasn't I'd leave. Doc comes in. She is about complete, but with a lip. Just a little more time on your side to stretch out that lip. I'll check you again at 10:15. So I think about staying, but decide not to even though I'll be missing the magical finale. First time mom--pushing usually takes an hour, sometimes more. I wouldn't be leaving until after 11, and that's IF she's complete next time she is checked. I leave. I call people the whole way home to keep myself from falling asleep. I go to my mom's house, since she has the kids. I get there and just sob. Tears of relief and release. I made it. I am alive. I can go to sleep now. This day might finally end. What day is it anyhow?

So here I am now. After a pretty good nights sleep, a VERY helpful mother, and a shower, I am feeling almost human again. Jamie isn't contagious anymore and is feeling a little better. And that van with the Death Star painted on its side isn't following me anymore. It is over.

Oh yes, the clincher. I talked to my client's husband the next day, and it turns out she was complete when the doc checked her, and pushed the baby out in 5 minutes. She was probably giving birth as I pulled into my mother's driveway. Sigh.

Lies My Parents Told Me

2009-01-30T21:34:00.003-05:00

One Christmas when we were little girls, my parents gave us each our own Cabbage Patch Kid. This is when they were all the rage and our family didn't have much money. It was a huge treat. Amy had Molly, Jenny had Denny, and I had Coleen. They had pretty dresses and we each got a little basket to lay them in. We loved our baby girls throughout our whole childhoods. Several years later, when Amy was married, Jenny was in college, and I was in high school, it was revealed to us by our parents that these sweet girl Cabbage Patch Kids we'd lovingly raised all our loves were, in fact, boys. That was all our parents could get at the time, but they wanted us to have girl dollies, so they threw out the boy clothes and got girl clothes and doctored the birth certificates. Molly was actually Olly, my Coleen was actually Cole, and Denny... well that was the same (although as an interesting side effect we all grew up thinking Denny was a girls name and would think it funny if we met a guy with the name). We were outraged! Our parents had been lying to us for years! What a deception. I would certainly NEVER do that to my kids!!

Fast forward another decade and I have my own little girls. Lydia is now 2.5 years old. She's used a pacifier all her life and although we've tried to take it away a few times, we've never been successful (after like an hour of crying at nighttime I'd finally give in and give her the paci). Anyway she had her first dentist appointment on Wednesday where the dentist told me that there was an indentation on the back of her teeth from the paci. The good news is that it corrects itself as soon as the paci is no longer in use. The dentist told me that she sometimes helps kids by asking them to give their pacies away and that there is a lot to the symbolic act of them actually giving the paci away. I asked her to give it a shot so she spoke to Lydia and said "you know what Lydia? I have a lot of little babies that are very sad. They need pacies. Do you think you could give them your pacies so they can be happy?" Lydia: "yeah. And then I'll get new ones?" Dentist: "No, because you're such a big girl and don't need a paci anymore." Lydia: "yeah, cause I'm a big girl!"

So that afternoon we get home and I ask Lydia if she wants to collect her pacies and give them to the dentist to give to her babies. I ask if she wants to give them straight to the dentist or mail them. She gets very excited about mailing them. I got out a ziplock bag and gave it to her, and we went around finding all her pacies. Then we drove to the post office, stood in line, and when it was our turn went up to the desk. I held Lydia up and told the Postal Worker that we wanted to mail the pacies to the little babies. Lydia: "because they are sad". Postal Worker: "Oh they will be so happy! How nice of you!". Then the lady placed them behind the counter. I explained to Lydia that the lady would put the pacies in the dentist's mail box, where the dentist would pick them up and hand them out to the little babies and they wouldn't be sad anymore. Later Jamie took her out to buy her a stuffed animal that she could cuddle at night when she missed her paci. That night Lydia went to bed without any fuss. Same with last night and tonight. Mission accomplished.

All we had to do was elaborately deceive our two year old daughter. Oh the lies, the lies! When will they end?

Becoming, part 2

2009-01-30T10:11:00.004-05:00

Jenny thought I should save this title for Obama's re-election in four years, which I admit is a good idea. But I decided to use it now anyway for a different purpose. Anyway I may have gone through all the titles by then and be on round two (or move on to a different show to steal my titles from).

Anyway, this time I refer to "Becoming" as becoming a homebirth midwife's intern. I started about two weeks ago I guess. Its pretty cool, she lets me take blood pressure and palpate the belly, and listen to the heartbeat with a fetascope. She's also paying for me to take a neonatal resuscitation and adult CPR course, which are never bad skills to have. Anyway I've been attending a few prenatals with her to see how this works out. I'll be attending births with her as well in February. Basically right now I'm trying to figure out if this is actually doable with having two little kids. So far it has been, but its also stressful. Finding childcare is a constant worry,even though its just for Lydia since I've been taking Juliet with me. I've also just never felt this busy. Even though its exciting, I have a new appreciation for the fact that I have the luxury of staying home with my kids rather than having to get a job. We'll see how it goes after I start doing births--whether it seems like too much or not.

I think the being busy also has to do with us joining the YMCA a few months ago. I LOVE going! It feels so good to get regular exercise. When I first went I was totally intimidated, especially about weight lifting. But now I have a plan, and actually really enjoy the weightlifting. I also go to a Yoga class when I can, which is always great. Today I got to go, and it was so neat to see how much further I could stretch a pose than the last time I went. I would really like to make this an integral part of my life--something I always do, not just for a few month and then quit. I did a lot of different sports in highschool, and then after graduation I pretty much stopped. Everything. I'd forgotten how good it feels to be active! (and by active I don't mean chasing after a baby all day long making sure she doesn't choke on whatever crap she just put in her mouth). And I'm hoping that this regular exercise might help inspire me to adjust my eating habits. Right now I eat sugar and fat like they are going out of style, and miraculously I am not paying for it yet. But I know this will not always be the case so I'd love to change those habits before I find myself as fat as the demon Balthazar...

Becoming, part 1

2009-01-20T16:57:00.004-05:00

Today I am soaring. Because we the American people just inaugurated the first black president of the United States. And because now Barack Hussein Obama is my president.

It is only in the past year or two that I have begun to be interested in politics. It started with the West Wing. After seven seasons of caring deeply what happened to the fate of the country and politicians in a TV show, it occurred to me that these same topics are being debated and decided in my real, true life. Um, why would I care so much about Leo McGarry and C.J. Cregg and not even know the name of the real Chief of Staff and Press Secretary? Why was I so mad if a law didn't pass the Senate in the show, when I barely know what legislation is ever introduced in the real Senate? Well, thats changed. And I managed to discover this just in time for the most monumentous election in my lifetime. It has been so exciting, so inspiring. During the campaign I would engage in heated political debates with my fellow cloth-diapering mamas (you have no idea how opinionated we can be!). I sought to learn as much about the candidates and issues as I could. I proudly donned my "Obama Mama" shirt at every opportunity. I've written to congressmen about issues I care about. I've called people to get out the vote. And I VOTED. For the first time. And I am honored that the first vote I ever cast was for this man. I do not think he is the Messiah, or Superman, but he gives me Hope. He inspires me. And I believe he is what we need.

So now, after watching Barack Obama become the 44th President of the United States, I am so grateful that I was "awake" to experience this. I will never, ever forget it. And I look forward to the coming years, because I do believe that things can change for the better.

Normal Again

2009-01-08T13:34:00.002-05:00

The holiday season is over. Our Christmas tree is boxed up (it was fake), the Christmas cookies are all eaten (they were yummy), "Christmas-Father" has left the mall (Lydia's name for Santa), and 104.7 The Fish is back to simply being safe for the whole family, rather than putting Christ back in Christmas (which they actually didn't say so much this year. Maybe they finally realized that Winter Wonderland and Santa Clause is Coming to Town, while being sung by Christians, still has nothing to do with Christ). Most importantly, I do not have to worry about hearing Christmas Shoes again for another 11 months. Seriously that song makes me want to carve out my ears. My sadistic sister enjoyed my pain and would purposely call me up if it played on her radio so that I would get it in my head. I desperately took to singing Its a Small World After All defensively when in danger of hearing Christmas Shoes. Revolting but effective.

Anyway everything is back to normal here, with the addition of new toys for all. I'm loving my Rock Band World Tour. Jamie loves his wireless internet. Lydia loves her princess castle and Big Wheel. Juliet...well she's got a lot of new things to suck on. Surely those other toys were losing some of their flavor. Of course her favorite things to chew on are the things she's not supposed to...plastic bags, Lydia's princess castle, other babies, etc...

All in all, good holiday, but also good to be back to our normal routine of playgroups, YMCA, library, and saving the world from nerds.

Fear, Itself

2009-01-01T14:00:00.002-05:00

Well we started the new year with a bang, or more accurately, a bleche. Lydia vomited about 5 minutes after midnight. I was really really hoping that it was just because she ate some much junk food, but then she did it again around 3:30, and then Juliet kinda had an episode of spitting up/throwing up around 4:30. Needless to say, I didn't get any sleep. Lydia has not vomited today, but she has a fever and has been acting very lethargic.

A stomach virus.

My worst fear.

I know its totally irrational, but I have an insane fear of stomach bugs and throwing up. I will go to great lengths to avoid it. I'd rather break my arm than go through a bad stomach virus. The thing is, I know in my head that its not a big deal. 24 hours of feeling miserable, and then its over. Not serious. But I HATE it, and worry worry worry. So right now, I'm in this cloud of fear and anxiety that makes me feel sick even though I haven't caught it yet. Just knowing I was exposed horrifies me. And taking care of Lydia, well, I'm caught between the instinct to cuddle her and make her feel better and the revulsion of exposing myself more and more to those germs and sealing my own fate. It shames me to be this way. And the thing is, it probably wouldn't be NEARLY as bad if I didn't fear it so much. Jamie is not afraid of being sick, and when he gets sick he deals well with it. I twist my insides around just fearing getting sick, and then bask in self-pity and misery when I succumb.

The fear is my enemy. But I don't know how to defeat it. I wish it would just manifest itself as a tiny demon I could step on.

Anyway, Happy New Year to you!

Gingerbread

2008-12-30T09:19:00.005-05:00

Merry Christmas everyone! I know this post is kinda late, but here it is! I've uploaded some pictures from our Christmas together. I will be creating an album on kodak gallery with a lot more pictures, so if you're not on the list that receives that and you want to, let me know. That is my usual means of sharing pictures.

Anyway, for our Christmas we went to Jenny and Joel's house for Christmas Eve. Had chilli, sang carols. It was lovely. Christmas morning we woke early and did stockings, then Grandma and Grandpa (my parents) came over and had breakfast with us and watched us open our presents. I got some good loot--a pretty dress, Guitar Hero world tour. Later we went to my parents house and opened yet MORE presents, this time with my mom and dad and Jenny and Joel. I got more great loot! Then we had a ham dinner and general merriment all around. It was great! So here are the pics...

Us opening some presents together

Juliet's new go-go boots

Lydia with her big wheel and new hat, scarf, and mittens

Juliet loved her new ikea toy!

I hope you had a wonderful Christmas, and that you didn't suffer too much from the complete lack of cold.

Next up, New Years! Hopefully I'll have another post for you then.

Lessons

2008-12-19T19:39:00.002-05:00

I've been thinking a lot recently about how lucky, how blessed I am. I have two healthy, beautiful, sweet kids. I have a husband who is kind, responsible, loving, and fit as a fiddle. I have a great relationship with every member of my family. Really no disfunction to speak of. I've been successful at most of the things I've tried to do. I've really never experienced any great tragedy in my life. The closest thing has been my grandmother's death, of cancer, which was heartbreaking and painful. But (and I'm not trying to minimize the experience or my loss for her) she was old, and we knew to expect it sometime.

But recently I've heard the stories of a few friends of mine that are so so devastating, things that I can't even imagine going through, and I just marvel at what I HAVE. I thank the Lord for all my blessings. How could I ask for anything more? How can I complain about all the many little things I complain about, when I have so much? How can I ignore God as much as I do, barely giving Him a thought, when my friends who have so much loss are focusing so much on Him and have such amazing faith? Why is it that I'm afraid to even write this post--afraid of what some people reading it might think?

Well, (deep breath) I'm writing it anyway, because this past week I have been so aware of what God has given me, and that it IS from God, that I need to talk about it. I feel excited for Christmas this year in a way that I don't think I've felt so much in the past. Like I'm really excited to welcome Jesus into this world. To remember his birth. Maybe its because I'm so aware now of childbirth and babies and it has a new meaning for me, and maybe Kris's sermons about preparing for the Lord this advent are really sinking in. So thank you, Lord, for coming to Earth. Thank you for giving me everything I need and more, including some new perspective.

Checkpoint

2008-12-13T19:44:00.002-05:00

I'm not really sure what to do with my blog. I keep waiting for inspiration to hit me with some very clever thing to write about, but as it does not seem to be hitting very often, I wonder if I should just give up on that notion and write about my day (or week or whatever). Would you be interested in that, even if it wasn't full of hilarious anecdotes or witty analyses?

Assuming you are, (and if you aren't then I welcome you to quit reading now) I shall now tell you about my past week. I think I'll go backwards, because its easier to remember the most recent things first. Today I baked two chicken-ham-&-leek pies and some almond-orange shortbread for a couple of moms from my church who just had babies. I got to meet Shepherd Avery Gordon, which I was very happy about. We got home and put the girls to bed, and now I'm in my pj's waiting for Jamie to get home with Prince Caspian and some soup for me. Tonight feels like it needs to be a cozy, soup-eating, wine-drinking, curl-up-on-the-couch-with-hubby-and-a-movie sort of night. Yesterday I went on a first date. Playdate, that is! We went over to my friend Kacie's house and the girls ran (and crawled) around with each other while we got to know each other better. I am so glad a did--Kacie, you are a girl worth knowing! I hope we keep playdating! Last night we went to a birthday party for a good friend of ours (skipping Friday Night Dinner--but we were with an Emily so does it still count?). The rest of the week was filled with other various playdates (sorry Kacie, I'm seeing other people too), some babysitting, and a doula interview for me, which I'm hoping leads to a new client.

Anyway, thats most of my week in a nutshell. Well the second half anyway. Who can remember what they did at the beginning of the week anyway? Psht. So let me know if this is the type of thing you want to hear from me on a regular basis.

Angel

2008-12-13T19:06:00.005-05:00

In October I did a photo shoot for Earth Mama Angel Baby. I got to do a whole shoot with this pretty famous photographer, and he took AMAZING pictures. I just got back the ones I ordered and wanted to share. Forgive the quality--I took pictures of the framed pictures.

Here is Lydia:

And me and Juliet:

I, Robot... You, Jane

2008-12-02T13:20:00.005-05:00

Yesterday I received 4 or 5 "robocalls" reminding me to vote today for Jim Martin. One was from Barack Obama himself. I tried to ask him how his Thanksgiving went, but he just wanted to get through what he had to say...lots of calls to make, no time to chat, you know how it is. Oh well.

So I went out with the girls and voted today. Lydia was pretty into it. She got two "I'm a Georgia Voter" stickers, and when we got back into the car she said "Mommy I want to rock the vote now". I'm so proud. It took me 26 years to become politically aware, she's starting at two.

In other news, we are now in the Christmas season, which I just love. We have our Christmas tree up with pretty lights and ornaments. Its a fake tree, but I figure we will work our way up to the real thing one day. Juliet is fascinated by the tree and keeps trying to pull the lights off. Did I mention she's crawling now? I'm particularly excited this year because my parents now live down here, and we can start a new world of family traditions. Will it be like it was when I grew up, where our immediate family will do presents in the morning and then go be with the extended family later that day? Will the grandparents come over first thing in the morning to watch us open our presents? Will Lydia and Juliet sneak into our bedroom and jump on our bed early in the morning with the stockings while we pretend to be asleep? Well, maybe not that last one yet. Or will there be brand new traditions that we've never done before, like skinny Jewish Santa? Its fun either way and I can't wait to see what unfolds for the new generation of the Belk Family Christmas.

If only you could be here too, Amy!

Something Blue

2008-11-23T16:10:00.003-05:00

Yesterday I had the honor of being a bridesmaid in my friend's wedding. The last time I was a bridesmaid was Jenny's wedding when I was 17. I have to say, I'm not very good at it. I had the wrong color shoes. I very nearly forgot to get them a present, and had to call home to have Jamie bring a card and the checkbook. We forgot to put the traditional "Just Married" sign on their car. Thankfully, I don't think the happy couple cared about these things. The wedding was beautiful and heartwarming. Both cried. It always gets me when the groom cries. Then at the reception he sang to his bride and played her a song on the guitar. I was with every other female in that place as we all swooned. There was a brief moment of tension when a demon pretending to be an older future version of the groom came to try and ruin the wedding, but he was quickly dispensed of and all was well in the end. But overall, just lovely.

In other news, both my little girls are sick at the moment, which breaks my heart. My white blood cells are in full battle mode to avoid me getting sick as well. I've also just gotten contacts (finally!), so I may look a little different next time you see me!

Ok I'm off. I'm hoping to go to the movies tonight to see my other vampire love on the big screen--Twilight!! If you don't know what my first vampire love is then you are missing something from this blog. Gotta love those hot vampires *sigh*.

Pilot Episode

2008-11-20T13:08:00.005-05:00

Well here I go... enter the blogosphere. I'm not sure how much I have to write about but I'm gonna give it a shot. I thought for my first post I'd take my sister's idea and list what I'm thankful for, seeing as we're so close to Thanksgiving and it was a good idea. Warning Jenny--several on my list may be the same as yours! These are in no particular order.

I'm thankful for:
1. Being able to give birth to Juliet naturally, and Jamie, Jenny and Jen for helping me
2. Having my parents and sister live so close
3. Seeing my oldest sister again after so long
4. Friday Night Dinners
5. Little cousins playing together
6. This: 7. That I got to say goodbye to my Grandma
8. Trinity Moms
9. Hope Won
10. That my apartment is not built over the sacred burial ground of a vengeful tribe of Chumash Indians