Dear Leah,
Early this morning around 3:30am (I can never remember the exact time) I was rocking you in the polka dot glider in your dimly lit room. Moments before you had guzzled 8oz of formula as you always do during your night time feeding. I lifted you from the feeding position and pulled you close to my chest. Your fuzzy head settled heavily on top of my shoulder. Your long toes spread apart like a fan, as your feet felt for a place to rest. Your body relaxed and you drifted back to sleep within seconds. This middle of the night time together is my favorite time with you. The house is silent and dark and we are uninterrupted. We slowly rock back and forth and I soak up the moment in my half-awake state.
You love to clap. You have not figured out how to do it by yourself yet, but we have a fun time doing it together. We sit face to face and I clap first. Your mouth opens wide and a massive grin spreads across your face. After a few claps I take your hands and clap them together for you. This sends jolts of joy through your entire body. You can barely contain yourself. Bursts of giggles erupt from your belly and you laugh and laugh and laugh. I stop and you ponder what to do next, trying to figure out how to clap independently. You bang on my belly with both hands, as if saying, "Let's do it again!"
You and Melody are starting to play together. You lay side by side on a quilt on the living room floor or in the bathtub. Melody mimics your full body kicks. Her body is long and thin compared to your rollie-pollie tummy and legs. Sometimes you want a ball or a bear and she insists that you want something different because it's the toy she wants to play with. Soon you'll be too smart for her manipulative toy switching.
You sit up like a pro now and I don't have to worry about you falling over anymore. You're trying to figure out how to crawl. You scoot backward instead of forward and usually end up stuck halfway underneath the couch or coffee table. You enjoy watching movies with your sister and no one can make you laugh like her silly shrieking can.
Love,
Mommy
8/11/2007
8/10/2007
a fun friday morning
We've been home a lot this week because the girls both have a cold. I've attempted to catch up on laundry and cook some good meals as well as watch a couple movies. I saw Catch and Release and Dream Girls. They were both okay; good movies to watch by myself during the day as I folded clothes, held babies and played with playdoh. I hit the pause buttom about 100 during each movie to fetch a bottle, answer the phone, talk to a toddler, rescue a baby from scooting backward under the coffee table and so on.
When Friday morning rolled around I was hoping to go to our weekly playgroup. But the runny noses were still with us, so I decided against it. Normally it wouldn't be a big deal, but two of the playgroup mamas are within weeks of their due dates and no one wants to get a fullterm pregnant friend sick with a cold. Can you imagine dealing with a cold DURING labor?
I shuffled around the house in my pjs, unsure of what to do. Stay home and work on things around here? Go to the mall? The pool? The park? Anything outside was a hands down no. It's the hottest week of the summer, so far. The mall was out because I am pretty sure the kids area there is where Melody got the infamous cold in the first place. (This is the cold that has spread to the whole playgroup. Sorry guys!)
Finally I decided to load everyone up in the truck (it has better AC than the car) and see where we ended up. I had a feeling garage sales would be the order of the day. We ended up having a wonderful time. Melody and I chatted the whole way to Fayetteville while Leah took a nap. Mel and I have REAL conversations these days. It's crazy. Today she saw a wagon and said,
"Remember when my got hurt in the wagon?
At Anna's house...in the backyard.
My cried... Jason stopped the wagon... he kiss it.
Then my got in the wagon again.
My got hurt in the wagon."
The crazy thing is, this incident happend LAST summer when Melody was just 19 or 20 months old. (!) I was floored. I kept asking her questions about it and I'm fairly sure it was the only time she's ever been in a wagon.
We went to McDonalds where I bought an iced coffee. They are pretty good. Especially for $1.66. Then we drove around looking for garage sales. It was a very successful shopping time. I bought Melody books, colorful plastic bowls for her kitchen, a kite, a music box from 1983, and a puzzle. For myself I bought a $15 quilt, a couple vintage linens, two homemade aprons (also vintage), and a DVD (Meet the Fockers). My most exciting purchase of the morning was a piece of stained glass that is perfect for our living room. It's about 8x10 inches and is orange and blue of a flower. It was marked $!0 which I was totally going to pay.
Then the lady said, "Oh you can have this for $5."
"Okay!"
I love garage sales because it's like you're doing the people a FAVOR to buy their stuff for next to nothing. They just want to get rid of it. Of course there is the occasional sale where people are trying to get $30 for a fushia prom dress from 1991.
We came home just in time for me and Melody to NOT get into a fight. When I push our outings too long, the 30 minute drive home is a nightmare. Maybe that's why I've been annoyed about living in the country lately. I should just come home sooner everytime we're out and about so that we're not pulling each other's hair our by the time we reach our country lane.
When Friday morning rolled around I was hoping to go to our weekly playgroup. But the runny noses were still with us, so I decided against it. Normally it wouldn't be a big deal, but two of the playgroup mamas are within weeks of their due dates and no one wants to get a fullterm pregnant friend sick with a cold. Can you imagine dealing with a cold DURING labor?
I shuffled around the house in my pjs, unsure of what to do. Stay home and work on things around here? Go to the mall? The pool? The park? Anything outside was a hands down no. It's the hottest week of the summer, so far. The mall was out because I am pretty sure the kids area there is where Melody got the infamous cold in the first place. (This is the cold that has spread to the whole playgroup. Sorry guys!)
Finally I decided to load everyone up in the truck (it has better AC than the car) and see where we ended up. I had a feeling garage sales would be the order of the day. We ended up having a wonderful time. Melody and I chatted the whole way to Fayetteville while Leah took a nap. Mel and I have REAL conversations these days. It's crazy. Today she saw a wagon and said,
"Remember when my got hurt in the wagon?
At Anna's house...in the backyard.
My cried... Jason stopped the wagon... he kiss it.
Then my got in the wagon again.
My got hurt in the wagon."
The crazy thing is, this incident happend LAST summer when Melody was just 19 or 20 months old. (!) I was floored. I kept asking her questions about it and I'm fairly sure it was the only time she's ever been in a wagon.
We went to McDonalds where I bought an iced coffee. They are pretty good. Especially for $1.66. Then we drove around looking for garage sales. It was a very successful shopping time. I bought Melody books, colorful plastic bowls for her kitchen, a kite, a music box from 1983, and a puzzle. For myself I bought a $15 quilt, a couple vintage linens, two homemade aprons (also vintage), and a DVD (Meet the Fockers). My most exciting purchase of the morning was a piece of stained glass that is perfect for our living room. It's about 8x10 inches and is orange and blue of a flower. It was marked $!0 which I was totally going to pay.
Then the lady said, "Oh you can have this for $5."
"Okay!"
I love garage sales because it's like you're doing the people a FAVOR to buy their stuff for next to nothing. They just want to get rid of it. Of course there is the occasional sale where people are trying to get $30 for a fushia prom dress from 1991.
We came home just in time for me and Melody to NOT get into a fight. When I push our outings too long, the 30 minute drive home is a nightmare. Maybe that's why I've been annoyed about living in the country lately. I should just come home sooner everytime we're out and about so that we're not pulling each other's hair our by the time we reach our country lane.
8/09/2007
cleanup or stay up?
Melody has a fascination with balls. It began a long time ago and everyone who knows her is aware of it. Every time we go to playgroup, she makes a beeline to the first type of ball she sees. For the next two hours she clutches this precious treasure and refuses to play with anything else. Balloons are the only object that can top a ball.
So I guess I shouldn't have been surprised the other day when our Number One disaster (to date) involed balls. She informed me that she had made a big mess in the living room. Upon entering the room, I spied marble sized, peanut butter colored balls all over the rug. I stepped closer with a look of suspition on my face and in an instant the smell of poop filled my nostrills.
"MELODY! Did you get poop our of your diaper?!"
"My made a mess Mommy!!" She informed me with glee. Then she added, "YUCKY!!!"
"That's right, it's yucky...." I replied and continued muttering all sorts of things about just how yucky it really was. Then I stopped. I realized she had most likely TOUCHED the poop. Her diaper was still on, so I assume she reached inside and removed the balls of poop one and a time. They were scattered all over the room. I had been talking on the phone in the neighboring kitchen. I thought I was keeping an eye on her, but obviously it wasn't enough. I stood there unsure of how to proceed. Then I saw Melody take her hand and wipe it across her face, under her leaky faucet nose. I sprang into action, "Don't touch your nose! Let's go wash you NOW."
The hot water hand and face washing that followed involved levels of tears and shrieking and dismay that a spanking could never match. After she was cleaned up, I had the fun job of hunting down all the marbles of poop in the living room. I grabbed a paper towell and a plastic walmart bag and got to work. Thankfully, her poop is always on the constipated side, so it was easy to handle. (EW!) After using three paper towels and picking up about 12 balls of poop I thought I was finished. The room still reeked so I decided to vacuum the rug. I moved the coffee table and found MORE marbles of poop. Nice.
It is a story fell out of my mouth the instant Chad walked in the door from work that evening. I couldn't even wait until he had finished eating to give him all the nasty details. He just kept shaking his head and closing his eyes. That same night Leah was up with a cold. We only slept about three hours. The next morning I felt 100 years old and decided that I'd rather pick up poop than stay up all night with a sick baby any day of the week. Although when these are one's choices, one realizes quickly why God made babies and toddlers so cute and lovey.
So I guess I shouldn't have been surprised the other day when our Number One disaster (to date) involed balls. She informed me that she had made a big mess in the living room. Upon entering the room, I spied marble sized, peanut butter colored balls all over the rug. I stepped closer with a look of suspition on my face and in an instant the smell of poop filled my nostrills.
"MELODY! Did you get poop our of your diaper?!"
"My made a mess Mommy!!" She informed me with glee. Then she added, "YUCKY!!!"
"That's right, it's yucky...." I replied and continued muttering all sorts of things about just how yucky it really was. Then I stopped. I realized she had most likely TOUCHED the poop. Her diaper was still on, so I assume she reached inside and removed the balls of poop one and a time. They were scattered all over the room. I had been talking on the phone in the neighboring kitchen. I thought I was keeping an eye on her, but obviously it wasn't enough. I stood there unsure of how to proceed. Then I saw Melody take her hand and wipe it across her face, under her leaky faucet nose. I sprang into action, "Don't touch your nose! Let's go wash you NOW."
The hot water hand and face washing that followed involved levels of tears and shrieking and dismay that a spanking could never match. After she was cleaned up, I had the fun job of hunting down all the marbles of poop in the living room. I grabbed a paper towell and a plastic walmart bag and got to work. Thankfully, her poop is always on the constipated side, so it was easy to handle. (EW!) After using three paper towels and picking up about 12 balls of poop I thought I was finished. The room still reeked so I decided to vacuum the rug. I moved the coffee table and found MORE marbles of poop. Nice.
It is a story fell out of my mouth the instant Chad walked in the door from work that evening. I couldn't even wait until he had finished eating to give him all the nasty details. He just kept shaking his head and closing his eyes. That same night Leah was up with a cold. We only slept about three hours. The next morning I felt 100 years old and decided that I'd rather pick up poop than stay up all night with a sick baby any day of the week. Although when these are one's choices, one realizes quickly why God made babies and toddlers so cute and lovey.
6/07/2007
adjusting
Life has changed so much for us since Chad started his new job. It’s been about three weeks and our old life is already a foggy memory. There are things I miss and things I’m excited about. The thing I miss the most of spending so much quality time with Chad. I miss leisurely breakfasts where we work together in the kitchen and then sat down together to eat and talk. These days we still eat breakfast together but it’s about 3 hours earlier, I’m barely awake, and he’s already thinking about work. Thus, there's not much talking going on.
Another big change is that I’m not doing freelance design work anymore. I miss it and I’m also relieved to be free of it. I got a call from DaySpring the other day. They were looking for someone to do a fast track project. I was both happy and sad to say no thanks. I miss the thrill of getting work, the dressing up and going to meet with people about projects, and having a reason to walk away from parenting and household duties for a couple hours with no guilt. I do not miss the pressure of deadlines, uncertainty of more jobs, horrible health insurance, and computer/font problems.
Because I’m not hanging out with Chad or working, I have more time to hang out with other stay at home moms. This opportunity is a good thing. This week I have spent time at the park and the library with other moms and their kids. Melody has enjoyed it too. This morning after an last minute bath (she soaked through her diaper last night) she was standing on the bathroom mat, naked and dripping wet.
I said, “Let’s go to your room now…”
She replied, “But I want to go to Fayetteville!!”
“We will go to Fayetteville, but we have to put some clothes on you first.”
Perhaps she could sense my urgency to get out of the house. We dressed her quickly and got the heck out of here. Our outing to the yarn store, the library and the health food store went well. On the way home she said, “I ready to be home now. I want to see Montana.” (Our dog.)
Another big change is that I’m not doing freelance design work anymore. I miss it and I’m also relieved to be free of it. I got a call from DaySpring the other day. They were looking for someone to do a fast track project. I was both happy and sad to say no thanks. I miss the thrill of getting work, the dressing up and going to meet with people about projects, and having a reason to walk away from parenting and household duties for a couple hours with no guilt. I do not miss the pressure of deadlines, uncertainty of more jobs, horrible health insurance, and computer/font problems.
Because I’m not hanging out with Chad or working, I have more time to hang out with other stay at home moms. This opportunity is a good thing. This week I have spent time at the park and the library with other moms and their kids. Melody has enjoyed it too. This morning after an last minute bath (she soaked through her diaper last night) she was standing on the bathroom mat, naked and dripping wet.
I said, “Let’s go to your room now…”
She replied, “But I want to go to Fayetteville!!”
“We will go to Fayetteville, but we have to put some clothes on you first.”
Perhaps she could sense my urgency to get out of the house. We dressed her quickly and got the heck out of here. Our outing to the yarn store, the library and the health food store went well. On the way home she said, “I ready to be home now. I want to see Montana.” (Our dog.)
5/31/2007
back in the saddle again
Life for the Mathis family has been turned upsidedown. A few weeks ago Chad got a phone call from a business person in residential construction. It was a Sunday evening and we had no idea the conversation would lead to Chad being employed again. Several phone calls and interviews later we are back in the saddle as a "normal" family. Chad goes to work everyday and I stay home with the girls.
Being thrown back into stay at home mom land has it's ups and downs. The ups include being able to spend more time with my other stay at home mom friends again. (Although this hasn't happened much yet.) Other ups include good health insurance and a steady income. The downside has a longer list. Time as a family has taken a huge hit. Chad is lucky if he's able to see the girls for more than two hours a day. He's in charge of a subdivsion that is a hour and fifteen minutes from our house. Long work days combined with drive time equal little time leftover for being at home.
Chad's return to the working world was an agonizing deicsion for us to make. The past five months have been a dream come true. We were able to spend everyday together. We enjoyed late breakfasts together. Somedays we'd wake up at 8:30 and say, "Let's go out to breakfast today." Most days he'd work outside on the land clearing brush or chopping firewood while I tended to the house. It was kinda like a Little House on the Prairie scenerio. When freelance came to me, he'd take over the house and the girls so I could work. I'd split my work time between home and coffee shops with wireless internet. I joined Curves because I had the freedom to leave the girls with him anytime to go exercise. I went to Walmart with one kid or no kids because he was available to watch them.
So, when this job opportunity came, we were unable to take it without feeling like someone had died. Our 'year of jubilee' was over. We felt gloomy and sad. We sat and stared at the walls as the new reality sunk in. Although we didn't talk to Melody about it directly, she knew what was going on. The morning of Chad's first day of work she woke up early, in time to see him before he left the house. Her first words that day were, "I don't want daddy to go to work."
Chad has just completed his first week of work. We are slowing getting back into the routine of 'normal' life. Toward the end of the day I start to feel like "What do I do with Leah?" I used to be able to hand her over to Chad so I could cook dinner or fold clothes. Now I have to figure out a way to do it all. I am using the sling again. She is big enough to sit on my hip now, which is comfortable for both of us.
The afternoons are the hardest part of the day for me. Starting around 2:00 I feel lost and sad. I wander around looking for motivation and purpose. I feel agitated and lonely and irritable. Sometimes a second dose of coffee helps me escape this funk, but I'm not satisfied with that for a solution. I want to enjoy my days at home with the girls. The mornings are great. If I could just carry that momentum though the rest of the day, I'd be doing great. I am trying view this challenging time of my life to an opportunity for spiritual growth. In the dire hours of the day I want to call out to Jesus for strength and help. For me to grow closer to God is one of the good things that could come out of this abrupt change in our lives.
Being thrown back into stay at home mom land has it's ups and downs. The ups include being able to spend more time with my other stay at home mom friends again. (Although this hasn't happened much yet.) Other ups include good health insurance and a steady income. The downside has a longer list. Time as a family has taken a huge hit. Chad is lucky if he's able to see the girls for more than two hours a day. He's in charge of a subdivsion that is a hour and fifteen minutes from our house. Long work days combined with drive time equal little time leftover for being at home.
Chad's return to the working world was an agonizing deicsion for us to make. The past five months have been a dream come true. We were able to spend everyday together. We enjoyed late breakfasts together. Somedays we'd wake up at 8:30 and say, "Let's go out to breakfast today." Most days he'd work outside on the land clearing brush or chopping firewood while I tended to the house. It was kinda like a Little House on the Prairie scenerio. When freelance came to me, he'd take over the house and the girls so I could work. I'd split my work time between home and coffee shops with wireless internet. I joined Curves because I had the freedom to leave the girls with him anytime to go exercise. I went to Walmart with one kid or no kids because he was available to watch them.
So, when this job opportunity came, we were unable to take it without feeling like someone had died. Our 'year of jubilee' was over. We felt gloomy and sad. We sat and stared at the walls as the new reality sunk in. Although we didn't talk to Melody about it directly, she knew what was going on. The morning of Chad's first day of work she woke up early, in time to see him before he left the house. Her first words that day were, "I don't want daddy to go to work."
Chad has just completed his first week of work. We are slowing getting back into the routine of 'normal' life. Toward the end of the day I start to feel like "What do I do with Leah?" I used to be able to hand her over to Chad so I could cook dinner or fold clothes. Now I have to figure out a way to do it all. I am using the sling again. She is big enough to sit on my hip now, which is comfortable for both of us.
The afternoons are the hardest part of the day for me. Starting around 2:00 I feel lost and sad. I wander around looking for motivation and purpose. I feel agitated and lonely and irritable. Sometimes a second dose of coffee helps me escape this funk, but I'm not satisfied with that for a solution. I want to enjoy my days at home with the girls. The mornings are great. If I could just carry that momentum though the rest of the day, I'd be doing great. I am trying view this challenging time of my life to an opportunity for spiritual growth. In the dire hours of the day I want to call out to Jesus for strength and help. For me to grow closer to God is one of the good things that could come out of this abrupt change in our lives.
5/16/2007
5am wake up call
Once or twice a week Leah wakes up around 5:00am. She lays next to me in the bed with her eyes wide open. She smiles hugely and kicks the sheets with a jabbing motion. I try to cox her to go back to sleep by patting her bottom, jiggling her body, nursing her, etc. The list continues. Each attempt fails. Instead she becomes even more animated. She coos and laughs at the idea of any more sleep. It is torturous and silly to attempt sleep with such a wildly awake neighbor, so we get up.
This morning I stumbled into the kitchen with coffee on my mind. It's the next best thing to sleep at 5:00am. Before getting a new pot brewing, I spilled yesterday's damp grounds all over the floor. The paper towell roll was empty and the broom gone from it's pantry hook. (We're at my mom-in-law's right now. The house is devastated after last weekend's wedding. We've been to tired to clean things up. The wedding was at the house.) Who whould have thought making coffee could be such a chore? During it all, Leah sat wide-eyed in her Bumbo seat on the counter.
I started to perk up after eight ounces of coffee with cream and a runny fried egg on jellied toast. (I was tempted to eat leftover wedding cake for breakfast. Self control won the 5am battle but we'll see what happens the rest of the day.) I resituated Leah and myself at the laptop -- she still in her blessed bumbo seat. I did a little email and read a few blogs. After twenty minutes Leah let out a mild whine. I reached for her sweet six month old body and held her close. Within one minute she was out cold... sound asleep with her face directly in my shoulder. I don't know how she breathes like that. Her sleeping body slumped against me, exhausted from our early morning adventures. I held her for a few minutes thinking, "This early morning routine isn't so bad after all." I was able to spend some sweet time with my happy baby. I had my coffee. Now I'm the only one awake in a large quiet house. (It feels like I'm the only one up in the region. No matter house many times we visit, I cannot get used to the midwest. The vast crop fields make me feel isolated.)
Even though getting out of bed at 5:00am would never be my choice, it usually turns out to be a blessing in diguise, as do so many other things related to caring for a baby.
This morning I stumbled into the kitchen with coffee on my mind. It's the next best thing to sleep at 5:00am. Before getting a new pot brewing, I spilled yesterday's damp grounds all over the floor. The paper towell roll was empty and the broom gone from it's pantry hook. (We're at my mom-in-law's right now. The house is devastated after last weekend's wedding. We've been to tired to clean things up. The wedding was at the house.) Who whould have thought making coffee could be such a chore? During it all, Leah sat wide-eyed in her Bumbo seat on the counter.
I started to perk up after eight ounces of coffee with cream and a runny fried egg on jellied toast. (I was tempted to eat leftover wedding cake for breakfast. Self control won the 5am battle but we'll see what happens the rest of the day.) I resituated Leah and myself at the laptop -- she still in her blessed bumbo seat. I did a little email and read a few blogs. After twenty minutes Leah let out a mild whine. I reached for her sweet six month old body and held her close. Within one minute she was out cold... sound asleep with her face directly in my shoulder. I don't know how she breathes like that. Her sleeping body slumped against me, exhausted from our early morning adventures. I held her for a few minutes thinking, "This early morning routine isn't so bad after all." I was able to spend some sweet time with my happy baby. I had my coffee. Now I'm the only one awake in a large quiet house. (It feels like I'm the only one up in the region. No matter house many times we visit, I cannot get used to the midwest. The vast crop fields make me feel isolated.)
Even though getting out of bed at 5:00am would never be my choice, it usually turns out to be a blessing in diguise, as do so many other things related to caring for a baby.
5/06/2007
weekend with old friends
The girls are napping. (I love it when they nap at the same time!) Chad went to Tulsa to take our Oregon friends to the airport. The house is strangely quiet after a weekend of hustle and bustle. Friday night there were eleven people sleeping here. Every bed was full, plus some floor space (sorry Dan). To top it off, the two college students were on an air mattress on the screened-in back porch.
Chad are I are the happiest when we have a house full of friends. We anticipated the weekend with Walmart trips, meal prep, and lists of chores. The house looked it’s best when everyone arrived. I was tired from all the work, but completely happy to sit and visit and catch up.
We met Dan’s fiancé, Erin for the first time. They will be married in a month. Seeing them together reminded me of my own engagement. I had forgotten about every moment together being consumed with touch. Holding hands, rubbing knees, leaning on each other. I had to smile every time I noticed it. Now my days are full of a different kind of touch. Bald baby head on my shoulder and sticky toddler hands tugging at my pant leg. It is fun to remember the days of engagement anticipation and it is equally rewarding to realize how far we’ve come from that place.
We did many old school days things with our friends. Memories multiplied as we gathered around a bonfire at Lincoln Lake, recalling cliff jumping, throwing boulders into the water, eating ant-covered donuts, and wondering who might hook up with who. (Now we know!) The next day 12 of us went to Twin Falls to grill burgers. I was insane with worry, trying to keep Melody away from the edge of the rocks. At one point I said panicky in a loud voice, “Where is Melody? Where is Melody?! Where is MELODY?!!” My friend Beck turned around to reveal that Melody was in her arms, out of my view. I took some deep breaths and tried to relax. We watched Dan and Matt jump off the falls and Melody discovered she could throw rocks in the water. She busied herself with this activity for the rest of the outing.
Sunday morning everyone gathered at our place for an informal baby dedication for Leah and Abbie Mae. Chad and I took turns holding Leah during the time. I felt proud and humbled and joyful to recognize the blessing God has given to us. We talked about the Old Testament story of how Hannah dedicated Samuel to the Lord. It is a story I happened to read a few days ago. I guess God is reminding me that Leah is His. This truth gives me chills and makes me want to take the best possible care of our little Leah. I’m so thankful for her.
I am also thankful for my college friends. Our relationships have passed the test of time despite the fact that we live all over the country. I thank God for each of them, including Dan’s bride. Welcome to the group Erin!
Chad are I are the happiest when we have a house full of friends. We anticipated the weekend with Walmart trips, meal prep, and lists of chores. The house looked it’s best when everyone arrived. I was tired from all the work, but completely happy to sit and visit and catch up.
We met Dan’s fiancé, Erin for the first time. They will be married in a month. Seeing them together reminded me of my own engagement. I had forgotten about every moment together being consumed with touch. Holding hands, rubbing knees, leaning on each other. I had to smile every time I noticed it. Now my days are full of a different kind of touch. Bald baby head on my shoulder and sticky toddler hands tugging at my pant leg. It is fun to remember the days of engagement anticipation and it is equally rewarding to realize how far we’ve come from that place.
We did many old school days things with our friends. Memories multiplied as we gathered around a bonfire at Lincoln Lake, recalling cliff jumping, throwing boulders into the water, eating ant-covered donuts, and wondering who might hook up with who. (Now we know!) The next day 12 of us went to Twin Falls to grill burgers. I was insane with worry, trying to keep Melody away from the edge of the rocks. At one point I said panicky in a loud voice, “Where is Melody? Where is Melody?! Where is MELODY?!!” My friend Beck turned around to reveal that Melody was in her arms, out of my view. I took some deep breaths and tried to relax. We watched Dan and Matt jump off the falls and Melody discovered she could throw rocks in the water. She busied herself with this activity for the rest of the outing.
Sunday morning everyone gathered at our place for an informal baby dedication for Leah and Abbie Mae. Chad and I took turns holding Leah during the time. I felt proud and humbled and joyful to recognize the blessing God has given to us. We talked about the Old Testament story of how Hannah dedicated Samuel to the Lord. It is a story I happened to read a few days ago. I guess God is reminding me that Leah is His. This truth gives me chills and makes me want to take the best possible care of our little Leah. I’m so thankful for her.
I am also thankful for my college friends. Our relationships have passed the test of time despite the fact that we live all over the country. I thank God for each of them, including Dan’s bride. Welcome to the group Erin!
4/10/2007
leah's five month letter
Dear Leah,
Tomorrow you will be five months old. Tonight I swaddled you in a size two diaper for the first time. You're little body is a mere 12.5 pounds. You are full of sweet personality. You squeal and growl with gusto. Your big sister makes you smile and stare. She enjoys talking to you. When you get upset she mimicks mommy's sing-songy voice by saying "Toe-Tay Leah." ("It's okay Leah.") Melody also enjoys sharing her toys with you. Sometimes I glance your way and discover a ball or teddy bear nestled next to your head as you sit contentedly in your swing. You should know that these toys are your sister's favorites and she delights in giving them to you.
You still sleep with mommy and daddy at night. We didn't expect to have you in the bed with us for so long, but night time is when you do most of your nursing. During the day we give you two or three bottles of formula to help you grow. I fear you will stop nursing sooner if we stop co-sleeping at night, so in our bed you stay. Last night I had trouble falling asleep. I rested on my side and stared at your beautiful sleeping face. Your flawless skin is softer than possible. When I touch your face, my senses can barely comprehend that anything is there.
I often wear you in a sling during the day. Sometimes you fall asleep on me as I move around the house to cook and clean. Today the four of us went for a walk on the land. It was a damp, cool day and you nestled close to my chest as we walked. Melody walked between mommy and daddy and said "Good girl, Chad" to daddy when he cut down a branch on the trail. By the time we got back to the house, you were sleeping soundly next to my heart. I took a deep breath and felt so lucky to have you in my arms.
Love,
Mommy
Tomorrow you will be five months old. Tonight I swaddled you in a size two diaper for the first time. You're little body is a mere 12.5 pounds. You are full of sweet personality. You squeal and growl with gusto. Your big sister makes you smile and stare. She enjoys talking to you. When you get upset she mimicks mommy's sing-songy voice by saying "Toe-Tay Leah." ("It's okay Leah.") Melody also enjoys sharing her toys with you. Sometimes I glance your way and discover a ball or teddy bear nestled next to your head as you sit contentedly in your swing. You should know that these toys are your sister's favorites and she delights in giving them to you.
You still sleep with mommy and daddy at night. We didn't expect to have you in the bed with us for so long, but night time is when you do most of your nursing. During the day we give you two or three bottles of formula to help you grow. I fear you will stop nursing sooner if we stop co-sleeping at night, so in our bed you stay. Last night I had trouble falling asleep. I rested on my side and stared at your beautiful sleeping face. Your flawless skin is softer than possible. When I touch your face, my senses can barely comprehend that anything is there.
I often wear you in a sling during the day. Sometimes you fall asleep on me as I move around the house to cook and clean. Today the four of us went for a walk on the land. It was a damp, cool day and you nestled close to my chest as we walked. Melody walked between mommy and daddy and said "Good girl, Chad" to daddy when he cut down a branch on the trail. By the time we got back to the house, you were sleeping soundly next to my heart. I took a deep breath and felt so lucky to have you in my arms.
Love,
Mommy
4/07/2007
coloring
Last week I stumbled upon a local toy store that is going out of business. I felt sad for the owners, who wore defeated expressions. At the same time, I was thrilled to find shelves full of merchandise marked 50% off. I spent $60 and walked out with three bags full of goodies for the girls. The loot included, Melissa & Doug art supplies*, large white easel paper rolls, a genuine purple playground ball, wooden beads, wooden puzzles, wooden sewing templates, 100 colorful blocks, and a few other things.
I'm the most excited about the art supplies. They include finger paint, crayons, stamps, ink pads, and paper. Within a couple days of the purchases I lured Melody to the kitchen table with the promise of something new to play with. Her eyes danced with excitement as she climbed into the booster seat and saw the plastic container of bright crayons for the first time. I taped a 3 foot section of the thick white easel paper to the area of table within her reach and let her loose. She scribbled back and forth with yelps of glee, saying the colors as fast as she could, "Purple! Yellow! Red...!"
I felt a surge of pride as I watched her play. Memories of my own childhood rushed through my senses. As a child I spent hours knealing at the coffee table coloring. I'd beg my parents to color with me. My dad gave in often. I remember squirming with delight as he joined me on the floor beside the coffee table. He would color one page and say, "Okay. That's enough for me." The minutes of joined coloring would be over in a flash. In later years I'd lament about how he didn't color wtih me for long enough. My mom informed me that he actually colored with me for long amounts of time. I believe her because to this day, when I sit down to do anything creative (especially involving color), the clock stops and I can work for hours without realizing it. In fact, a few weeks ago I saw down at my laptop to do some work. In my hand was a piece of Dove dark chocolate. I absent-mindedly set it down next to the computer. TWO HOURS LATER I looked down and it was still sitting there, untouched. But back to Melody...
For the past few days we've been coloring together. I say, "Do you want me to make a polka dot?"
She responds, "Okay. Red."
"Here you go. Here's a red polka dot for Melody!"
"Nice. I like it! Again. Blue!"
After a section of multi-colored polka dots forms, I say, "How about a triangle?" and we proceed. Soon the table top is covered with shapes, fruit, trees, rainbows, hearts, numbers, letters, and other elementary items. I look at the clock and realize that 45 minutes has passed in a flash. Some things never change. I hope in the years to come she and Leah enjoy art as much as I do.
* By the way, I love crayons by the Melissa & Doug brand. They are great for kids for a few reasons. They are triangular which means they do not roll all over the place. Also, they are not covered in paper so no peeling is necessary. And finally, they are much stronger than typical crayons which means they don't break all the time. I love them!
I'm the most excited about the art supplies. They include finger paint, crayons, stamps, ink pads, and paper. Within a couple days of the purchases I lured Melody to the kitchen table with the promise of something new to play with. Her eyes danced with excitement as she climbed into the booster seat and saw the plastic container of bright crayons for the first time. I taped a 3 foot section of the thick white easel paper to the area of table within her reach and let her loose. She scribbled back and forth with yelps of glee, saying the colors as fast as she could, "Purple! Yellow! Red...!"
I felt a surge of pride as I watched her play. Memories of my own childhood rushed through my senses. As a child I spent hours knealing at the coffee table coloring. I'd beg my parents to color with me. My dad gave in often. I remember squirming with delight as he joined me on the floor beside the coffee table. He would color one page and say, "Okay. That's enough for me." The minutes of joined coloring would be over in a flash. In later years I'd lament about how he didn't color wtih me for long enough. My mom informed me that he actually colored with me for long amounts of time. I believe her because to this day, when I sit down to do anything creative (especially involving color), the clock stops and I can work for hours without realizing it. In fact, a few weeks ago I saw down at my laptop to do some work. In my hand was a piece of Dove dark chocolate. I absent-mindedly set it down next to the computer. TWO HOURS LATER I looked down and it was still sitting there, untouched. But back to Melody...
For the past few days we've been coloring together. I say, "Do you want me to make a polka dot?"
She responds, "Okay. Red."
"Here you go. Here's a red polka dot for Melody!"
"Nice. I like it! Again. Blue!"
After a section of multi-colored polka dots forms, I say, "How about a triangle?" and we proceed. Soon the table top is covered with shapes, fruit, trees, rainbows, hearts, numbers, letters, and other elementary items. I look at the clock and realize that 45 minutes has passed in a flash. Some things never change. I hope in the years to come she and Leah enjoy art as much as I do.
* By the way, I love crayons by the Melissa & Doug brand. They are great for kids for a few reasons. They are triangular which means they do not roll all over the place. Also, they are not covered in paper so no peeling is necessary. And finally, they are much stronger than typical crayons which means they don't break all the time. I love them!
4/02/2007
fun days & hard days
Melody is sick again. She has rubbed her nose/face raw due to a runny/itchy nose. She whines, "Nose hurts." about a million times a day. Sometimes she asks me to kiss it. She is in the stage where kissing things makes them 'better.' It's tricky to kiss a crusty nose without gagging. I try.
Last week we had two wonderful days in a row. Melody played with her toys, sang to Leah, helped me with chores and was in a delightful mood all day long. Leah is in the fun four month old mode. She coos and squirms but does not roll over yet. She loves her swing and bouncy seat. She laughs and squeals nonstop. In the midst of those happy days I felt like I could have many more children. Things were glowy.
Then Melody developed her 4th cold of the season. In a matter of 12 hours she was whiny, crying, touchy, needy, upset, inconsolable and difficult. She does not eat or sleep or play. She just wants to be held. It's hard to hold a two year old all day long when you have a four month old. All of the sudden, the idea of MORE kids is crazy!
The upside to everything is the weather. It's been like California weather here. We spent a few hours at the park today. Leah and I have pink cheeks from the sunshine. I will have to be very careful with her milky white skin. It will not handle the sun the same way Melody's golden skin does. Leah has my fair complextion.
Last week we had two wonderful days in a row. Melody played with her toys, sang to Leah, helped me with chores and was in a delightful mood all day long. Leah is in the fun four month old mode. She coos and squirms but does not roll over yet. She loves her swing and bouncy seat. She laughs and squeals nonstop. In the midst of those happy days I felt like I could have many more children. Things were glowy.
Then Melody developed her 4th cold of the season. In a matter of 12 hours she was whiny, crying, touchy, needy, upset, inconsolable and difficult. She does not eat or sleep or play. She just wants to be held. It's hard to hold a two year old all day long when you have a four month old. All of the sudden, the idea of MORE kids is crazy!
The upside to everything is the weather. It's been like California weather here. We spent a few hours at the park today. Leah and I have pink cheeks from the sunshine. I will have to be very careful with her milky white skin. It will not handle the sun the same way Melody's golden skin does. Leah has my fair complextion.
3/19/2007
leah milestones
Four months is one of my favorites places in the first year of a baby's life. Leah is stealing my heart everyday. I'm feeling more at ease about her weight for two reasons... she started taking bottles again!! After about a month of rejecting the bottle, she's willing to drink from it again. I've been giving her 3 or 4 ounces of formula each evening. After only 4 days of supplementing, she's gained 4 ounces!!! She is now 11 pounds!!! I'm so happy.
We've also begun the adventure of cloth diapers. My friend, Crystal, lent us her newborn stash (thank you, Crys!) and we're trying them out. My initial reason for wanting to try cloth was to save money. As I'm using them, many other reasons are developing. I like putting something so soft on my baby. I didn't realize how harsh and abrasive disposable diapers feel until I began using these wonderfully soft cotten diapers. Another reaon I feel good about it is the environment. I don't tend to be a "green" person, but I am mindful of how much gasoline I use and how much diaper trash we've been making. It's a huge amount with two in diapers!
We're still very new at this cloth diaper thing. I've only done one load of wash so far. (Actually three... to wash them well I'm told to do three cycles of washing. One cold, one hot, another cold.) I plan to hang them on a line in the sun to dry them. We've pretty much stopped using our dryer to save on the electric bill. The days are warm and sunny enough to hang dry clothes. Mel is my helper by handing me clothes pins while I hang the clothes.
One of the things I love about the 4 month stage is smiles. Leah is full of smiles for us. Little shy smiles. Open mouth grins of glee. Giggly, jittery, excited smiles. Slow, sleepy, goofy grins. Each one melts my heart. It is good to be past the three month mark. Some people refer to the first three months as the fourth trimester. It is a hard time for all, but especially for the mama. Nursing every hour and a half is tedious and night time wears one down quickly. I was super lucky to have outtles of help from family, friends, and my stay-at-home husband. Almost everyday I ask myself how single moms do this mothering thing.
I'm happy to be blogging again. I decided to just dive back in. All along I knew I didn't want to stop blogging, but I was not able to give it the time or energy I used to. I love to make my posts into stories. I like writing, reading, and rereading the posts before I am finished. But right now all that is not possible. I will be more free with my thoughts and less picky about my subject matter. It feels good to be back.
We've also begun the adventure of cloth diapers. My friend, Crystal, lent us her newborn stash (thank you, Crys!) and we're trying them out. My initial reason for wanting to try cloth was to save money. As I'm using them, many other reasons are developing. I like putting something so soft on my baby. I didn't realize how harsh and abrasive disposable diapers feel until I began using these wonderfully soft cotten diapers. Another reaon I feel good about it is the environment. I don't tend to be a "green" person, but I am mindful of how much gasoline I use and how much diaper trash we've been making. It's a huge amount with two in diapers!
We're still very new at this cloth diaper thing. I've only done one load of wash so far. (Actually three... to wash them well I'm told to do three cycles of washing. One cold, one hot, another cold.) I plan to hang them on a line in the sun to dry them. We've pretty much stopped using our dryer to save on the electric bill. The days are warm and sunny enough to hang dry clothes. Mel is my helper by handing me clothes pins while I hang the clothes.
One of the things I love about the 4 month stage is smiles. Leah is full of smiles for us. Little shy smiles. Open mouth grins of glee. Giggly, jittery, excited smiles. Slow, sleepy, goofy grins. Each one melts my heart. It is good to be past the three month mark. Some people refer to the first three months as the fourth trimester. It is a hard time for all, but especially for the mama. Nursing every hour and a half is tedious and night time wears one down quickly. I was super lucky to have outtles of help from family, friends, and my stay-at-home husband. Almost everyday I ask myself how single moms do this mothering thing.
I'm happy to be blogging again. I decided to just dive back in. All along I knew I didn't want to stop blogging, but I was not able to give it the time or energy I used to. I love to make my posts into stories. I like writing, reading, and rereading the posts before I am finished. But right now all that is not possible. I will be more free with my thoughts and less picky about my subject matter. It feels good to be back.
3/15/2007
photo stress and leah's size
Melody and Leah are scheduled to have professional photos taken this weekend. Ever since I made the appointment a few days ago, I've been stressed out about what they will wear. If they are in a photo together I want their outfits to coordinate... not necessarily match, but work together. Melody has an adorable dress by Mini Boden (UK brand) that I bought on ebay awhile back. It is floral. I usually stick with solids for photos but this dress is the perfect for a spring photo.
Leah does not have many clothes and none of them will work with this floral dress of Melody's. Leah wears comfy one-piece outfits most of the time right now. I don't like putting babies in jeans or overalls until they start moving around. I find pants annoying at this stage because they ride up too high or fall off. Yesterday Leah was wearing a pair of 3-6 month jeans. Chad held her up above his head and the jeans fell off her skinny body!!
Which brings me to another topic of stress... her size. Yesterday I had a terrible day. It was one of the worst days I've never had, in fact! I cried and moped and frowned all day long. I could not pull myself from the pit. I went to Fayetteville but it didn't pull me out of my funk. We had dinner with wonderful friends but that did not pull me out of my funk either. As we drove home in the dark I told Chad I was so thankful for a new day tomorrow.
Today has been better. I was pretty upset about Leah again this morning and then she drank a few ounces of formula from a bottle!!! My mom had the magic touch I guess because Leah has been rejecting bottles from us for over a month. She has gained only 1 ounce in about 3 weeks. She has a wellbaby checkup next week and I am anxious for the doctor to see her and tell me what he thinks. I've been willing/ready to supplement for weeks, but she would spit out anything from an eyedropper, etc. She is four months old and weighs just 10 lbs / 12 oz. (But she is 25-26 inches long!!!)
Having a low milk supply is so frustrating. I feed her every hour and a half and she still sucks on her hands all the time. POOR BABY! I'm so so so so so relieved that she drank from the bottle today. I gave her another 4 ounces of formula this evening and she did fine with that too. I have hope again.
Leah does not have many clothes and none of them will work with this floral dress of Melody's. Leah wears comfy one-piece outfits most of the time right now. I don't like putting babies in jeans or overalls until they start moving around. I find pants annoying at this stage because they ride up too high or fall off. Yesterday Leah was wearing a pair of 3-6 month jeans. Chad held her up above his head and the jeans fell off her skinny body!!
Which brings me to another topic of stress... her size. Yesterday I had a terrible day. It was one of the worst days I've never had, in fact! I cried and moped and frowned all day long. I could not pull myself from the pit. I went to Fayetteville but it didn't pull me out of my funk. We had dinner with wonderful friends but that did not pull me out of my funk either. As we drove home in the dark I told Chad I was so thankful for a new day tomorrow.
Today has been better. I was pretty upset about Leah again this morning and then she drank a few ounces of formula from a bottle!!! My mom had the magic touch I guess because Leah has been rejecting bottles from us for over a month. She has gained only 1 ounce in about 3 weeks. She has a wellbaby checkup next week and I am anxious for the doctor to see her and tell me what he thinks. I've been willing/ready to supplement for weeks, but she would spit out anything from an eyedropper, etc. She is four months old and weighs just 10 lbs / 12 oz. (But she is 25-26 inches long!!!)
Having a low milk supply is so frustrating. I feed her every hour and a half and she still sucks on her hands all the time. POOR BABY! I'm so so so so so relieved that she drank from the bottle today. I gave her another 4 ounces of formula this evening and she did fine with that too. I have hope again.
3/14/2007
sick winter
I could barely remember what a head cold felt like until this year. Let me start a the beginning. I've had numerous ailments this winter. I will recap them for you...
When Leah was five weeks old I started feeling the symptoms of a urinary tract infection (UTI). I am prone to these, especially if I drink too much coffee. Being a new mom of two, coffee quickly became my best friend. Some days I accidentally drank more coffee than water. This is a big no-no for me. I tried to kick the infection myself with natural stuff like cranberry extract and lots of water. I told myself that I'd go to the doctor when/if I got a fever. Ten days of mild symptoms passed with no fever. Finally a fever hit me full force. By the time I got in to see the doctor it was at 103. I was miserable and the infection was bad. I started antibiotics that did not work because the infection was too strong. They gave me a shot. It worked and I started feeling better. I was very relieved because I was fearing IV antibiotics (which I've had once before for a UTI).
Days after my UTI saga I got poison ivy. I had planted some tulip bulbs in the jungle of our front yard. My ungloved hands were exposed. Since I'm breastfeeding, the rash spread right to my breasts making me more miserable than I can describe. To top things off, we were in Illnios with the inlaws for Christmas so I had to wear a bra during it all. Awful. Leah and Melody did not get the poison ivy. Whew!
Soon after that I developed thrush (from the antibiotics). OWIE! I nursed through it with much wincing and flinching. I took myself off white flour and sugar (no coke!) and started eating plain Dannon for breakfast and lunch. Being off fast food, sugar, and cokes was not that hard. Whole grains and healthy food tasted good and I felt better than I have in a long time despite the annoying thrush. (Unfortunately I'm craving crap food again.)
We had an all night scream fest with Leah after I put an undiluted drop of grapefruit seed extract in her mouth. Dumb mommy; poor baby. I didn't know it would cause such a reactio. She had gas and mouth-pain all night. The next day she slept for 7 hours!
The thrush healed just in time for the world's worst head cold to begin. It lasted for 12 days. I went through boxes and boxes of tissue. I was in the midst of a huge freelance project during the cold. In the midst of it, I was attempting to breastfeed Leah every hour and a half because she was not gaining enough weight.
The horrible cold was the last of my ailments. Since then, both girls have had the flu. (!) I was spared somehow, despite the fact that I slept in bed with Melody through the worst of her illness. There is nothing more sad than a toddler with fever. She would say "Toe hurts." "Finger hurts." "Nose hurts." "Hair hurts." I'd kiss each painful area and she'd move to the next. Poor baby... everything hurt!
We are finally starting to feel like a healthy family again. I feel hopeful for spring time. I hope we never have such a sick winter again!!
When Leah was five weeks old I started feeling the symptoms of a urinary tract infection (UTI). I am prone to these, especially if I drink too much coffee. Being a new mom of two, coffee quickly became my best friend. Some days I accidentally drank more coffee than water. This is a big no-no for me. I tried to kick the infection myself with natural stuff like cranberry extract and lots of water. I told myself that I'd go to the doctor when/if I got a fever. Ten days of mild symptoms passed with no fever. Finally a fever hit me full force. By the time I got in to see the doctor it was at 103. I was miserable and the infection was bad. I started antibiotics that did not work because the infection was too strong. They gave me a shot. It worked and I started feeling better. I was very relieved because I was fearing IV antibiotics (which I've had once before for a UTI).
Days after my UTI saga I got poison ivy. I had planted some tulip bulbs in the jungle of our front yard. My ungloved hands were exposed. Since I'm breastfeeding, the rash spread right to my breasts making me more miserable than I can describe. To top things off, we were in Illnios with the inlaws for Christmas so I had to wear a bra during it all. Awful. Leah and Melody did not get the poison ivy. Whew!
Soon after that I developed thrush (from the antibiotics). OWIE! I nursed through it with much wincing and flinching. I took myself off white flour and sugar (no coke!) and started eating plain Dannon for breakfast and lunch. Being off fast food, sugar, and cokes was not that hard. Whole grains and healthy food tasted good and I felt better than I have in a long time despite the annoying thrush. (Unfortunately I'm craving crap food again.)
We had an all night scream fest with Leah after I put an undiluted drop of grapefruit seed extract in her mouth. Dumb mommy; poor baby. I didn't know it would cause such a reactio. She had gas and mouth-pain all night. The next day she slept for 7 hours!
The thrush healed just in time for the world's worst head cold to begin. It lasted for 12 days. I went through boxes and boxes of tissue. I was in the midst of a huge freelance project during the cold. In the midst of it, I was attempting to breastfeed Leah every hour and a half because she was not gaining enough weight.
The horrible cold was the last of my ailments. Since then, both girls have had the flu. (!) I was spared somehow, despite the fact that I slept in bed with Melody through the worst of her illness. There is nothing more sad than a toddler with fever. She would say "Toe hurts." "Finger hurts." "Nose hurts." "Hair hurts." I'd kiss each painful area and she'd move to the next. Poor baby... everything hurt!
We are finally starting to feel like a healthy family again. I feel hopeful for spring time. I hope we never have such a sick winter again!!
3/13/2007
three months
It is March. I can't believe it. 2007 is flying by. The past three months have been a blur. We've experienced a lot of change this year, starting with our brand new baby, Leah. She turned four months a couple of days ago. She's very different from Melody, although they share a few similarities. One of these is their size. Leah is little. I often refer to her as our Little Leah. She's almost 11 lbs now. This puts her in the 5th percentile for weight. She's long though, and at 25 inches is in the 95th percentile. Her middle swims in outfits while her ankles and feet dangle below the hemline. I worry about her weight a lot. We have a wellbaby checkup scheduled for next week. I'm looking forward to hearing what the doctor has to say.
Another huge change for us this year is Chad's job situation. He was laid off in December. (!) The residential housing market is very slow. His company overbuilt last year and they had to shut down the construction side of the company. We were not surprised by the lay-off. We actually welcomed it because we were ready for a change. I made a few calls and quickly acquired some freelance work. January and February were a blur of work and breastfeeding. Chad held down the fort and cared for the girls while I worked my tail off. The jobs were on the fast track and paid well. I missed hanging out with my mom friends and shopping the after Christmas sales, but having our family of four together on a daily basis was worth the sacrifice.
For the past couple of weeks I've been without freelance work. We've enjoyed perpetual days off marked with breaskfasts at 9am, walks on our land, doing chores together, and simply being together. It's like a dream. Both of us have been hesitant to fully embrace it for fear that it is too good to be true. As the three month mark passes we're finally allowing things to sink in. We are so happy.
Another huge change for us this year is Chad's job situation. He was laid off in December. (!) The residential housing market is very slow. His company overbuilt last year and they had to shut down the construction side of the company. We were not surprised by the lay-off. We actually welcomed it because we were ready for a change. I made a few calls and quickly acquired some freelance work. January and February were a blur of work and breastfeeding. Chad held down the fort and cared for the girls while I worked my tail off. The jobs were on the fast track and paid well. I missed hanging out with my mom friends and shopping the after Christmas sales, but having our family of four together on a daily basis was worth the sacrifice.
For the past couple of weeks I've been without freelance work. We've enjoyed perpetual days off marked with breaskfasts at 9am, walks on our land, doing chores together, and simply being together. It's like a dream. Both of us have been hesitant to fully embrace it for fear that it is too good to be true. As the three month mark passes we're finally allowing things to sink in. We are so happy.
11/26/2006
baby anncouncement
We had the baby! Most of you already know already... two weeks and one day ago, on November 11, Leah Sage Mathis was born!!! I've meant to blog about it for two weeks, but you know how it goes.
She weighed 8 pounds and 5 ounces and was 21 inches long. Leah's birth was completely different from Melody's birth. The labor was longer in total, but the end was super fast. I will write the entire birth story in the future, but for now here are a few tidbits:
• Leah was born at 3:53 in the morning.
• I felt the urge to push this time.
• She was born in the water (bathtub).
• The midwives arrived 45 minutes before she was born.
• Chad and I had a sweet bonding experience during this birth.
• I coped very differently this time.
• I needed 4 stitches after the birth, as opposed to 14 after Melody.
Leah is doing awesome. She is nursing like a pro and has a very loud cry. She looks a little bit like Melody did, but there are many differences. She has my hands and fingers. She has a little cleft in her chin; we don't know where it came from. She has a very calm demeanor when she is awake. She moves her head around slowly, taking in her surroundings one thing at a time. Night time varies greatly. She's been known to sleep for 7 hours already, with no intentions of waking up to eat. Other nights we are up often, eating around the clock.
I'm feeling pretty good. I've recovered more quickly this time. The first week I stayed in bed almost all the time. The second week I took it easy on the couch, watching movies and shows while people brought me water every time we nursed. Chad and my mom as well as his family have taken wonderful care of me. Chad's mom and sister are scheduled to be her for two more weeks! I feel like by the time they leave, I'll have a handle on things well enough to not freak out. Maybe. All in all, we're doing very well... feeling happy and blessed with our family of four.
She weighed 8 pounds and 5 ounces and was 21 inches long. Leah's birth was completely different from Melody's birth. The labor was longer in total, but the end was super fast. I will write the entire birth story in the future, but for now here are a few tidbits:
• Leah was born at 3:53 in the morning.
• I felt the urge to push this time.
• She was born in the water (bathtub).
• The midwives arrived 45 minutes before she was born.
• Chad and I had a sweet bonding experience during this birth.
• I coped very differently this time.
• I needed 4 stitches after the birth, as opposed to 14 after Melody.
Leah is doing awesome. She is nursing like a pro and has a very loud cry. She looks a little bit like Melody did, but there are many differences. She has my hands and fingers. She has a little cleft in her chin; we don't know where it came from. She has a very calm demeanor when she is awake. She moves her head around slowly, taking in her surroundings one thing at a time. Night time varies greatly. She's been known to sleep for 7 hours already, with no intentions of waking up to eat. Other nights we are up often, eating around the clock.
I'm feeling pretty good. I've recovered more quickly this time. The first week I stayed in bed almost all the time. The second week I took it easy on the couch, watching movies and shows while people brought me water every time we nursed. Chad and my mom as well as his family have taken wonderful care of me. Chad's mom and sister are scheduled to be her for two more weeks! I feel like by the time they leave, I'll have a handle on things well enough to not freak out. Maybe. All in all, we're doing very well... feeling happy and blessed with our family of four.
baby anncouncement
We had the baby! Most of you already know already... two weeks and one day ago, on November 11, Leah Sage Mathis was born!!! I've meant to blog about it for two weeks, but you know how it goes.
She weighed 8 pounds and 5 ounces and was 21 inches long. Leah's birth was completely different from Melody's birth. The labor was longer in total, but the end was super fast. I will write the entire birth story in the future, but for now here are a few tidbits:
• Leah was born at 3:53 in the morning.
• I felt the urge to push this time.
• She was born in the water (bathtub).
• The midwives arrived 45 minutes before she was born.
• Chad and I had a sweet bonding experience during this birth.
• I coped very differently this time.
• I needed 4 stitches after the birth, as opposed to 14 after Melody.
Leah is doing awesome. She is nursing like a pro and has a very loud cry. She looks a little bit like Melody did, but there are many differences. She has my hands and fingers. She has a little cleft in her chin; we don't know where it came from. She has a very calm demeanor when she is awake. She moves her head around slowly, taking in her surroundings one thing at a time. Night time varies greatly. She's been known to sleep for 7 hours already, with no intentions of waking up to eat. Other nights we are up often, eating around the clock.
I'm feeling pretty good. I've recovered more quickly this time. The first week I stayed in bed almost all the time. The second week I took it easy on the couch, watching movies and shows while people brought me water every time we nursed. Chad and my mom as well as his family have taken wonderful care of me. Chad's mom and sister are scheduled to be her for two more weeks! I feel like by the time they leave, I'll have a handle on things well enough to not freak out. Maybe. All in all, we're doing very well... feeling happy and blessed with our family of four.
She weighed 8 pounds and 5 ounces and was 21 inches long. Leah's birth was completely different from Melody's birth. The labor was longer in total, but the end was super fast. I will write the entire birth story in the future, but for now here are a few tidbits:
• Leah was born at 3:53 in the morning.
• I felt the urge to push this time.
• She was born in the water (bathtub).
• The midwives arrived 45 minutes before she was born.
• Chad and I had a sweet bonding experience during this birth.
• I coped very differently this time.
• I needed 4 stitches after the birth, as opposed to 14 after Melody.
Leah is doing awesome. She is nursing like a pro and has a very loud cry. She looks a little bit like Melody did, but there are many differences. She has my hands and fingers. She has a little cleft in her chin; we don't know where it came from. She has a very calm demeanor when she is awake. She moves her head around slowly, taking in her surroundings one thing at a time. Night time varies greatly. She's been known to sleep for 7 hours already, with no intentions of waking up to eat. Other nights we are up often, eating around the clock.
I'm feeling pretty good. I've recovered more quickly this time. The first week I stayed in bed almost all the time. The second week I took it easy on the couch, watching movies and shows while people brought me water every time we nursed. Chad and my mom as well as his family have taken wonderful care of me. Chad's mom and sister are scheduled to be her for two more weeks! I feel like by the time they leave, I'll have a handle on things well enough to not freak out. Maybe. All in all, we're doing very well... feeling happy and blessed with our family of four.
11/06/2006
breakfasts of late
Lately Chad and I have been eating breakfast together before he leaves for work in the morning. Getting up with him is something I used to do on a regular basis, but the past few months have been different. During pregnancy, I need more sleep, so I used every extra morning minute for dozing.
Now that I'm only two weeks away from my due date, I'm not able to sleep well. By the wee hours of the morning, my cumbersome body is tired of rolling back and forth, looking for a comfortable position. I usually give up, get out of bed, pee for the 5th, 6th, or 7th time that night, and shuffle to the kitchen to start breakfast for us. Another breakfast motivator is my morning appetite. The baby is hungry.
When we got married (almost six years ago), Chad was a fan of sweet things in the morning. He craved cinnamon rolls or anything with syrup. I'm more of a protein/salt type breakfast eater; I prefer omeletes, potatoes, toast, etc. Over the years we've meshed our breakfasts likes. Now, I can appreciate a piping hot cinnamon roll and he can't do breakfast out without a side of crispy hashbrowns. Saturdays have become our special breakfast day of the week. We either go out to eat, or make something worthwhile at home. A couple weeks ago Chad woke up with a sore throat. It was a Saturday morning. When I asked what sounded good to him for breakfast and he replied,
"Oatmeal, toast with honey, and hot tea."
I thought to myself, "What a switch from cinnamon rolls and coffee!" I knew he was really under-the-weather.
I made his requested list and it really hit the spot for both of us. Since that Saturday, we've been having this healthy breakfast almost every morning. I add walnuts, raisins, honey, and milk to the oatmeal. Butter and honey goes on the toast. The hot tea gets honey as well. I guess autumn is the time for honey.
Chad says his day goes better when we eat breakfast together. I enjoy spending time together in the mornings also. Usually Melody is awake by the time he leaves, so he's able to see her for a few minutes. I know everything will change again very soon when the baby arrives. My nights will be long and lonely and I won't have energy in the mornings for family breakfast. It will be a temporary phase (hopefully shorter than longer), and I hope that after awhile we can enjoy breakfast everyday again.
Now that I'm only two weeks away from my due date, I'm not able to sleep well. By the wee hours of the morning, my cumbersome body is tired of rolling back and forth, looking for a comfortable position. I usually give up, get out of bed, pee for the 5th, 6th, or 7th time that night, and shuffle to the kitchen to start breakfast for us. Another breakfast motivator is my morning appetite. The baby is hungry.
When we got married (almost six years ago), Chad was a fan of sweet things in the morning. He craved cinnamon rolls or anything with syrup. I'm more of a protein/salt type breakfast eater; I prefer omeletes, potatoes, toast, etc. Over the years we've meshed our breakfasts likes. Now, I can appreciate a piping hot cinnamon roll and he can't do breakfast out without a side of crispy hashbrowns. Saturdays have become our special breakfast day of the week. We either go out to eat, or make something worthwhile at home. A couple weeks ago Chad woke up with a sore throat. It was a Saturday morning. When I asked what sounded good to him for breakfast and he replied,
"Oatmeal, toast with honey, and hot tea."
I thought to myself, "What a switch from cinnamon rolls and coffee!" I knew he was really under-the-weather.
I made his requested list and it really hit the spot for both of us. Since that Saturday, we've been having this healthy breakfast almost every morning. I add walnuts, raisins, honey, and milk to the oatmeal. Butter and honey goes on the toast. The hot tea gets honey as well. I guess autumn is the time for honey.
Chad says his day goes better when we eat breakfast together. I enjoy spending time together in the mornings also. Usually Melody is awake by the time he leaves, so he's able to see her for a few minutes. I know everything will change again very soon when the baby arrives. My nights will be long and lonely and I won't have energy in the mornings for family breakfast. It will be a temporary phase (hopefully shorter than longer), and I hope that after awhile we can enjoy breakfast everyday again.
9/11/2006
red party high
I woke up early with the rain. I decided to get out of bed and spent some time with Chad instead of laying there awake. We had coffee and banana bread. His eyes were vacant and large with sleepiness, but the time together was good anyway. We shared a small glass of apple juice because the coffee didn't quench our thirst.
As the black truck reved up for his drive to work, I stood in the rainy doorway, feeling the breeze and smelling the water. I felt content and full with half a cup of coffee in hand, Melody still sleeping, the day ahead of me.
Mornings like this are so different from the depressed ones. I feel light and easy today.
It's partly a high from a wonderful time with girlfriends last night. We had a Red Party; also called A Blessing Way. It's basically a baby shower, but instead of focusing on the baby, the focus is on the mother. The large-bellied pregnant mama gets treated to TLC with a foot soaking, massage and henna. We tell our birth stories. They are intertwined with tears and laughter. We recount the pain, hardship, joy and newness of birth. We eat fancy food and each of us comes away with a beaded bracelet to wear until the birth of the new baby.
I left the gathering feeling amazed at the group of like-minded, but different, women that God has brought into my life. My sleep was full of dreams of support and babies. My due date is now 10 weeks away. Participating in Laurel's Red Party was a small step toward preparation for my own journey to deliver this baby into the world.
As the black truck reved up for his drive to work, I stood in the rainy doorway, feeling the breeze and smelling the water. I felt content and full with half a cup of coffee in hand, Melody still sleeping, the day ahead of me.
Mornings like this are so different from the depressed ones. I feel light and easy today.
It's partly a high from a wonderful time with girlfriends last night. We had a Red Party; also called A Blessing Way. It's basically a baby shower, but instead of focusing on the baby, the focus is on the mother. The large-bellied pregnant mama gets treated to TLC with a foot soaking, massage and henna. We tell our birth stories. They are intertwined with tears and laughter. We recount the pain, hardship, joy and newness of birth. We eat fancy food and each of us comes away with a beaded bracelet to wear until the birth of the new baby.
I left the gathering feeling amazed at the group of like-minded, but different, women that God has brought into my life. My sleep was full of dreams of support and babies. My due date is now 10 weeks away. Participating in Laurel's Red Party was a small step toward preparation for my own journey to deliver this baby into the world.
9/06/2006
a hairy morning
The morning began with a groggy mama going on 4 hours of sleep. Heartburn and caffeine kept me awake until 3am. I served a lovely leftover pancake to Melody for breakfast and attempted to clean up the kitchen before the termite inspector arrived. He showed up late, eager to chat. We stood in the entry way as he gave me details about the log cabin he's building and the friends he's living with. Yaaawn. Finally, with body language, I eased away from him and he began the flash light inspection.
Later, in an attempt to load the car for an outing of errands, Melody picked up a dead mouse in the driveway. (!) I turned around and looked down just in time to see her little hand expertly wrapped around the dead creature's furry body. I screamed something like, "NO NO NO! Yucky!" She dropped it and I scooped her up. After a hot-water-hand-washing, we returned to the driveway where she prompty yelled, "No No No Yucky!" upon seeing the offending rodent. I had to smile.
My days are full in more ways than one. I pick up thrown objects at least every 5 minutes. Toys, books, sippy cups, food, and everything else that touches Melody's hands. She keeps me busy and tired, as well as very entertained. Her newest word is "Cap!" which is her version of "Crap". It's funny right now, but we're definitely realizing it's time to watch ourselves more closely. My belly is also full. Space for digestive organs decreases as the baby grows. We now have just 10 weeks go to until the due date, which has been confirmed to be Thanksgiving Day.
Later, in an attempt to load the car for an outing of errands, Melody picked up a dead mouse in the driveway. (!) I turned around and looked down just in time to see her little hand expertly wrapped around the dead creature's furry body. I screamed something like, "NO NO NO! Yucky!" She dropped it and I scooped her up. After a hot-water-hand-washing, we returned to the driveway where she prompty yelled, "No No No Yucky!" upon seeing the offending rodent. I had to smile.
My days are full in more ways than one. I pick up thrown objects at least every 5 minutes. Toys, books, sippy cups, food, and everything else that touches Melody's hands. She keeps me busy and tired, as well as very entertained. Her newest word is "Cap!" which is her version of "Crap". It's funny right now, but we're definitely realizing it's time to watch ourselves more closely. My belly is also full. Space for digestive organs decreases as the baby grows. We now have just 10 weeks go to until the due date, which has been confirmed to be Thanksgiving Day.
6/21/2006
health food store inspiration
Today I went to the health food store. It’s a relatively new establishment and I enjoy shopping there. I do not frequent it as often as I’d like. It is located 35 minutes from my house, so making a special trip takes planning. (Something I don’t often do.) Making a spur of the moment trip happens even less, because Melody is usually ready to go home after two or three stops.
I like the place because it motivates me. I like browsing the shelves of specialty items. I feel at ease because the products are preservative free and healthier than their mass marketed counterparts. Instead of reading three inch long ingredient lists I skim a much shorter, simpler list. I love it when products only have a few ingredients. Another perk is the packing. Most of the products are designed with attention to detail. There are no Great Value or Sam’s Choice labels screaming at me. (Although I’ve noticed that Walmart is starting to pay more attention to the design of their generic products.)
My favorite part of the health food store is the full service deli. It is a large serve-yourself assortment of foods. Soups, salads, and freshly made hot dishes are lined up in an array of color, texture and smell. Today I bought freshly made tuna and a cup of thick cream of mushroom soup. As I made my soup decision between three wonderful options I compared them to the canned soups in my pantry at home. There is no comparison. The freshly made ones are superior in every way (including price).
Stirring and smelling the soups inspired me. I have no doubt that I could make them myself with the right recipe. The ingredients were simple. I want to shop at the health food store more often, if not just for inspiration. If anyone has a good soup recipe, please share!
I like the place because it motivates me. I like browsing the shelves of specialty items. I feel at ease because the products are preservative free and healthier than their mass marketed counterparts. Instead of reading three inch long ingredient lists I skim a much shorter, simpler list. I love it when products only have a few ingredients. Another perk is the packing. Most of the products are designed with attention to detail. There are no Great Value or Sam’s Choice labels screaming at me. (Although I’ve noticed that Walmart is starting to pay more attention to the design of their generic products.)
My favorite part of the health food store is the full service deli. It is a large serve-yourself assortment of foods. Soups, salads, and freshly made hot dishes are lined up in an array of color, texture and smell. Today I bought freshly made tuna and a cup of thick cream of mushroom soup. As I made my soup decision between three wonderful options I compared them to the canned soups in my pantry at home. There is no comparison. The freshly made ones are superior in every way (including price).
Stirring and smelling the soups inspired me. I have no doubt that I could make them myself with the right recipe. The ingredients were simple. I want to shop at the health food store more often, if not just for inspiration. If anyone has a good soup recipe, please share!
6/20/2006
how many?
How many kids do I want? This question is in me all the time. I lull it over at least once a day.
When Chad and I got married we thought four was the magic number. He comes from family of four. Boy, girl, boy, girl in perfect staggered order. Holidays and vacations with his family are a blast. Each child is different but alike. Music fills the house at each gathering. Piano, guitar, harmonica, mandolin. Hymns, Johnny Cash, Counting Crows, Dixie Chicks, carols. We eat macaroni, ice cream, pepsi, coke, popcorn, and big meals together.
The harmony of Chad’s siblings makes me want to have a large family of my own. I recently watched The Family Stone. While the plot left me discontent, I enjoyed seeing the dynamics of a large family. Watching the mom cherish each child put a fire in me to have a lot of kids of my own.
The idea of having a family like that in the long term is so appealing. In the meantime I’m not sure how many I can handle. When I think of the pregnancies, the births, breastfeeding, diapers, sleepless nights, car seats, bags of groceries, years of schooling, laundry and 1000 other things having to do with raising a family, I’m unsure of my capabilities. Could I raise 4 kids? Could I do it well?
After I had Melody I was riddled with self-doubt and disbelief. I had wanted to become a mother more than anything in the world, and it was kicking my butt! I did not think I could/would have another baby until she was seven months old. Those first months were harder than I can even remember. I was in a daze most of the time.
I am starting to think the answer to my question might be a one-at-a-time type of thing. When giving birth I have to focus on one contraction at a time. If I think about more I start to loose my mind. When I was approaching transition in Melody’s birth, I looked up at Chad and with panic in my voice said, “How am I going to have the 3rd baby?!” He kindly reminded me to try to focus on the contraction at hand, and nothing more. (He was prepared for me to freak out about more contractions, but not about more births!) He was right. When I focused on the contraction at hand, I could do it. It was horrible, but doable. Maybe the trick with the “How many kids do I want?” question is the same answer. One at a time, baby.
When Chad and I got married we thought four was the magic number. He comes from family of four. Boy, girl, boy, girl in perfect staggered order. Holidays and vacations with his family are a blast. Each child is different but alike. Music fills the house at each gathering. Piano, guitar, harmonica, mandolin. Hymns, Johnny Cash, Counting Crows, Dixie Chicks, carols. We eat macaroni, ice cream, pepsi, coke, popcorn, and big meals together.
The harmony of Chad’s siblings makes me want to have a large family of my own. I recently watched The Family Stone. While the plot left me discontent, I enjoyed seeing the dynamics of a large family. Watching the mom cherish each child put a fire in me to have a lot of kids of my own.
The idea of having a family like that in the long term is so appealing. In the meantime I’m not sure how many I can handle. When I think of the pregnancies, the births, breastfeeding, diapers, sleepless nights, car seats, bags of groceries, years of schooling, laundry and 1000 other things having to do with raising a family, I’m unsure of my capabilities. Could I raise 4 kids? Could I do it well?
After I had Melody I was riddled with self-doubt and disbelief. I had wanted to become a mother more than anything in the world, and it was kicking my butt! I did not think I could/would have another baby until she was seven months old. Those first months were harder than I can even remember. I was in a daze most of the time.
I am starting to think the answer to my question might be a one-at-a-time type of thing. When giving birth I have to focus on one contraction at a time. If I think about more I start to loose my mind. When I was approaching transition in Melody’s birth, I looked up at Chad and with panic in my voice said, “How am I going to have the 3rd baby?!” He kindly reminded me to try to focus on the contraction at hand, and nothing more. (He was prepared for me to freak out about more contractions, but not about more births!) He was right. When I focused on the contraction at hand, I could do it. It was horrible, but doable. Maybe the trick with the “How many kids do I want?” question is the same answer. One at a time, baby.
6/14/2006
blurry wondering
I went off my antidepressant when I realized I was pregnant. I had no physical side effects as I weaned off the drug. Emotionally, I was already upsidedown due to the news of the surprise pregnancy, so I did not notice a marked change in my disposition.
In the weeks since I've tried to analyze how I'm feeling. I ask myself questions like,
Am I depressed? Do I feel down? Are things hard right now?
The answers to these questions have been positive. I'm not in the dark place I remember from the months following Melody's birth. I do not cry everyday. I do not feel like I'm floating or wandering around the house without purpose or aim. I'm able to smile for real.
But this week I am starting to wonder if there are underlying things going on that might be signaling depression.
I'm unmotivated with work and home.
I'm overly sensitive.
I'm sleeping a lot.
Decision-making is stressful and difficult.
These things combine to make me feel like faliure. I've been chalking them up to the pregnancy, but I'm not sure that's all it. Trying to figure out this subjective stuff is hard. I feel blind to myself. I don't know how to feel or what to think. Where is this confusion coming from?
In the weeks since I've tried to analyze how I'm feeling. I ask myself questions like,
Am I depressed? Do I feel down? Are things hard right now?
The answers to these questions have been positive. I'm not in the dark place I remember from the months following Melody's birth. I do not cry everyday. I do not feel like I'm floating or wandering around the house without purpose or aim. I'm able to smile for real.
But this week I am starting to wonder if there are underlying things going on that might be signaling depression.
I'm unmotivated with work and home.
I'm overly sensitive.
I'm sleeping a lot.
Decision-making is stressful and difficult.
These things combine to make me feel like faliure. I've been chalking them up to the pregnancy, but I'm not sure that's all it. Trying to figure out this subjective stuff is hard. I feel blind to myself. I don't know how to feel or what to think. Where is this confusion coming from?
6/06/2006
rainy day at home
It has been raining nonstop for at least for 5 hours. I have the windows open enough to hear the water coming down. I am relaxed today. I love days when I'm happy to be at home. More often than not, I desire to be out and about, busy with other people. But occasionally, a couple times a month, I crave home. One these days I enjoy coffee, dim lights, reading, playing with Melody, cooking, and relaxing. I want to cultivate this home-time more. Any ideas how?
6/05/2006
hanging on
The new baby continues to grow inside of me. We are now about 4 months pregnant. The weeks fly by like a train. In the mean time life is busy. We have a friend from college living with us this summer. He and Chad work on the house in all their extra time. We have about four weeks left until the bank deadline, so it is crunch time. I do my part by attempting to keep Melody and myself out of their way. It's been lonely, and I can't wait until July so we can relax and be together again. This is another example of a time of trial bringing out the positive of regular life. I am ready to return to humdrum.
We've been going to church more regularly. I am still amazed at how many babies and pregnant families are at this place. I would feel left out if I were not pregnant! How weird is that? The church meets in an amazing facility for the Boys & Girls Club. There is an indoor pool, climbing wall, soccer fields, playground, etc. Yesterday the congregation had a cookout play time. It lasted until 5pm and was a success. I was exhausted when we got home because I chased Melody for 3 hours straight. (Chad was at home working.) She had a blast in the water, which makes me want to take her swimming everyday.
We've been going to church more regularly. I am still amazed at how many babies and pregnant families are at this place. I would feel left out if I were not pregnant! How weird is that? The church meets in an amazing facility for the Boys & Girls Club. There is an indoor pool, climbing wall, soccer fields, playground, etc. Yesterday the congregation had a cookout play time. It lasted until 5pm and was a success. I was exhausted when we got home because I chased Melody for 3 hours straight. (Chad was at home working.) She had a blast in the water, which makes me want to take her swimming everyday.
5/08/2006
night time contentment & melody news
I am eleven weeks pregnant now. The baby is the size of a large bouncy ball. I like this mind picture. I can just see him/her bouncing around in my belly. Speaking of, I think I can already feel the baby fluttering around in there. I did not feel Melody move until the 20th week, and by that point it was a definite JAB/KICK. This time around, I'm more aware because I know what it can feel like. I liken it to a butterfly's wing fluttering against the wall of my uterus. That or a carbonated beverage; bubbly and tingly.
Since the past post I've continued to feel better about being pregnant. I am excited about the baby now. It's still not the cloud nine utopia I felt with Melody's pregnancy, but that's okay. I'm not expecting the exact same experience.
During the past week there have been a few nights when my mind is full of blessing and awe. I think of the things to come and a giddy contentment spreads throughout my whole being. It's a new sense of wellbeing that I've not experienced before. Now that I have Melody I know the goodness motherhood brings. Maybe that knowledge is the reason for these night time episodes of mind boggling peace. I think it must be a little bit like being high? The thoughts are not specific. It's more of a state of mind. Thoughts like these float in and out: Four instead of three. Tiny weightless baby sleeping on my chest. Siblings playing together in the bathtub. Breastfeeding again. Chad as a new daddy again.
The wild thing is, these are the same things I freak out about during the day, when my mind is fully functioning. Because of this, I'm thankful for the night time peace that comes at the end of these tiring pregnant days.
Now for an update on Melody...
She had a fever for two days last weekend. It made for two hard nights, one of which daddy helped out. By Sunday we were all zombies. Today she was herself again saying her new words with gusto, "I know!" "Pretty." "Nite-nite." We were at the grocery store and she began growling at me like a bear. I growled back and we gave everyone at the deli a show. During the show, I noticed a huge white mass in her mouth. She has a new molar! It's massive!! It's on the bottom and I assume it was the cause of her fever. I felt relief knowing the fever's cause, and sypmathy for the pain she endured as the tooth broke through. Looking back, there has been more drool and chewing action lately.
Each day her coordination and verbal skills grow. She has a couple long strands of beads that she loves. She puts them around her neck by herself and wears them for hours at a time. At naptime I take them away, to her dismay. Upon waking up, she is always delighted to receive them again.
She is getting more dominant and strong willed each week. When told "no" she takes a long time to ponder the situation. She bends her head low, furrows her brow, and comtemplates the item that is off limits. If distraction does not occur, she'll slowly reach out to touch the offending object again. Folks, we do not have a people-pleaser on our hands.
Since the past post I've continued to feel better about being pregnant. I am excited about the baby now. It's still not the cloud nine utopia I felt with Melody's pregnancy, but that's okay. I'm not expecting the exact same experience.
During the past week there have been a few nights when my mind is full of blessing and awe. I think of the things to come and a giddy contentment spreads throughout my whole being. It's a new sense of wellbeing that I've not experienced before. Now that I have Melody I know the goodness motherhood brings. Maybe that knowledge is the reason for these night time episodes of mind boggling peace. I think it must be a little bit like being high? The thoughts are not specific. It's more of a state of mind. Thoughts like these float in and out: Four instead of three. Tiny weightless baby sleeping on my chest. Siblings playing together in the bathtub. Breastfeeding again. Chad as a new daddy again.
The wild thing is, these are the same things I freak out about during the day, when my mind is fully functioning. Because of this, I'm thankful for the night time peace that comes at the end of these tiring pregnant days.
Now for an update on Melody...
She had a fever for two days last weekend. It made for two hard nights, one of which daddy helped out. By Sunday we were all zombies. Today she was herself again saying her new words with gusto, "I know!" "Pretty." "Nite-nite." We were at the grocery store and she began growling at me like a bear. I growled back and we gave everyone at the deli a show. During the show, I noticed a huge white mass in her mouth. She has a new molar! It's massive!! It's on the bottom and I assume it was the cause of her fever. I felt relief knowing the fever's cause, and sypmathy for the pain she endured as the tooth broke through. Looking back, there has been more drool and chewing action lately.
Each day her coordination and verbal skills grow. She has a couple long strands of beads that she loves. She puts them around her neck by herself and wears them for hours at a time. At naptime I take them away, to her dismay. Upon waking up, she is always delighted to receive them again.
She is getting more dominant and strong willed each week. When told "no" she takes a long time to ponder the situation. She bends her head low, furrows her brow, and comtemplates the item that is off limits. If distraction does not occur, she'll slowly reach out to touch the offending object again. Folks, we do not have a people-pleaser on our hands.
4/30/2006
a good sunday
Today was a better day. In fact, it was one of the best days I've had in a long time. It began with church. Lately we have been apathetic and nonchalant about church. Since we moved we haven't been sure about where to go. Today we returned to a place we've visited about five times before. It's a new church with some growing pains, but we agree with everything they stand for and we like the congregation. One thing about the community there is there are a ton of young families. Pregnant women and babies appear on every row. I had a briefl conversation with a friendly acquaintance. She is also in her second pregnancy. When I told her of my emotional state she nodded and affirmed my feelings completely. Maybe this church is a good place for us right now.
After church we drove to one of our standby breakfast places. Melody napped in the car on the way and was happy the entire meal. The coffee, omelet and hash browns hit the spot. Chad and I got along and were relaxed with each other.
After errands to Walmart and a sporting goods store we spent the afternoon working on the front yard. We worked on the house's first landscaping and planted flowers while Melody took a three hour nap. Working together and being outside was good for my soul. Thoughts of the new baby were light hearted and happy.
I am still unsure of everything, but it was refreshing to have a breakthrough day with my little family.
After church we drove to one of our standby breakfast places. Melody napped in the car on the way and was happy the entire meal. The coffee, omelet and hash browns hit the spot. Chad and I got along and were relaxed with each other.
After errands to Walmart and a sporting goods store we spent the afternoon working on the front yard. We worked on the house's first landscaping and planted flowers while Melody took a three hour nap. Working together and being outside was good for my soul. Thoughts of the new baby were light hearted and happy.
I am still unsure of everything, but it was refreshing to have a breakthrough day with my little family.
4/29/2006
a new baby
So, we went on a cruise and then I never blogged again. No, the ship did not sink. We returned safely with some color on our skin and a couple extra pounds around our middles. The days turned into weeks, and then a month went by. Happenings piled up. It's been six weeks and there is much to recount for you.
First and foremost -- I'll just say it -- I'm pregnant! Gulp. Yup, we found out on a Sunday night about four weeks ago. I am now ten weeks along. I have weaned off my anti-depressant. So far, so good. Wellbutrin is an easy one to stop taking. I haven't noticed any side effects, except my appetite is larger. It's easy to fixate on food again, which I'm not happy about.
We were not planning this pregnancy. Of course, we didn't plan the one with Melody either. Yes, we know how it works. Deep inside I always figured I was one of those women who would have to work hard at getting pregnant. I assumed Melody was a miracle-fluke-kind-of-thing. I guess I can be referred to as one of the "fertile" ones. I never thought that would be part of my story.
I am still shocked that I'm pregnant again. I have feelings of joy, but the happiness is objective. I feel truly blessed that God is allowing me to become a mother again. I keep telling myself that this is my dream come true. But to be honest, it is an active exercise to feel the goodness of the phenomenon. The things I feel naturally are fear and anxiety. I dread labor. Multiple times a day my mind replays details of the pain of Melody's birth. I close my eyes and shake my head to clear the thoughts. I think about all the options. Homebirth, midwife, hospital, doctor, epidural, risk, health, money, trust, care. It is a windy path that makes me dizzy and brings me to tears. I am at a total loss.
I also fear the newborn stage. I barely survived Melody's first four months and I had optimal circumstances. I had the help of two grandmas, a supportive husband, and a relatively easy newborn baby. (Althought that's the same as saying an "easy labor.") I dread another bought of lonely awake nights. And I have no earthly idea how I'll do it with TWO kids. So many people have their babies two years apart. (Or closer.) Mine will be 23 months apart and I'm falling apart at the thought of it all.
I tell my fears to Chad. He listens and tries to understand, but doesn't know how to make me feel different. I'm beginning to think I need to seek wisdom and words from moms who've been through this maze before me. I'll keep you posted on my progress in figuring out a way to fully embrace this lime-sized baby, which I can already feel fluttering deep inside of me. I want with all my heart to float on cloud nine the way I did in Melody's pregnancy. But I feel too experienced for that kind of glee. As I struggle to find a way, please pray for us. Thank you.
First and foremost -- I'll just say it -- I'm pregnant! Gulp. Yup, we found out on a Sunday night about four weeks ago. I am now ten weeks along. I have weaned off my anti-depressant. So far, so good. Wellbutrin is an easy one to stop taking. I haven't noticed any side effects, except my appetite is larger. It's easy to fixate on food again, which I'm not happy about.
We were not planning this pregnancy. Of course, we didn't plan the one with Melody either. Yes, we know how it works. Deep inside I always figured I was one of those women who would have to work hard at getting pregnant. I assumed Melody was a miracle-fluke-kind-of-thing. I guess I can be referred to as one of the "fertile" ones. I never thought that would be part of my story.
I am still shocked that I'm pregnant again. I have feelings of joy, but the happiness is objective. I feel truly blessed that God is allowing me to become a mother again. I keep telling myself that this is my dream come true. But to be honest, it is an active exercise to feel the goodness of the phenomenon. The things I feel naturally are fear and anxiety. I dread labor. Multiple times a day my mind replays details of the pain of Melody's birth. I close my eyes and shake my head to clear the thoughts. I think about all the options. Homebirth, midwife, hospital, doctor, epidural, risk, health, money, trust, care. It is a windy path that makes me dizzy and brings me to tears. I am at a total loss.
I also fear the newborn stage. I barely survived Melody's first four months and I had optimal circumstances. I had the help of two grandmas, a supportive husband, and a relatively easy newborn baby. (Althought that's the same as saying an "easy labor.") I dread another bought of lonely awake nights. And I have no earthly idea how I'll do it with TWO kids. So many people have their babies two years apart. (Or closer.) Mine will be 23 months apart and I'm falling apart at the thought of it all.
I tell my fears to Chad. He listens and tries to understand, but doesn't know how to make me feel different. I'm beginning to think I need to seek wisdom and words from moms who've been through this maze before me. I'll keep you posted on my progress in figuring out a way to fully embrace this lime-sized baby, which I can already feel fluttering deep inside of me. I want with all my heart to float on cloud nine the way I did in Melody's pregnancy. But I feel too experienced for that kind of glee. As I struggle to find a way, please pray for us. Thank you.
3/15/2006
walking
Melody and I have begun taking walks together. She uses her small legs and square feet to walk everywhere now. She is tall enough to hold onto my finger without me having to hunch over and waddle as we walk. This is a grand change! Now I enjoy walking together. Yesterday we went to Rogers to do some cruise shopping. (I love trips!) We were in a large new shopping area with wide sidewalks along the front of the stores. Melody and I slowly walked the length of the entire parking lot. She stopped at leaves, stomping on them with unsure feet and voicing excitement when the wind carried them away. I held her up to a tree full of popcorn type blossoms. I picked a blossom and held it toward her. Her fingers reached for it and carefully grasped the tiny stem. She carried it and touched it to her face for about 50 feet.
As we do new things together, like taking walks, I am filled with joy. She is becoming more and more of a companion. She says Hi and Bye to me about 25 times every day. I love it. Yesterday I put her hair in pigtails for the first time. They were pathetic little sprouts. As her hair thickens and my finger learn they will improve. We ended our outting at Barnes and Noble in the play area. I bought a Tazo iced tea (a new discovery for me). Melody romped around the kids section while I read a book about wok cooking. She fell asleep less than five minutes after we drove away. I felt happy for the discovery of mommy/daughter walks. I hope these pleasant times together stretch on for many many years.
As we do new things together, like taking walks, I am filled with joy. She is becoming more and more of a companion. She says Hi and Bye to me about 25 times every day. I love it. Yesterday I put her hair in pigtails for the first time. They were pathetic little sprouts. As her hair thickens and my finger learn they will improve. We ended our outting at Barnes and Noble in the play area. I bought a Tazo iced tea (a new discovery for me). Melody romped around the kids section while I read a book about wok cooking. She fell asleep less than five minutes after we drove away. I felt happy for the discovery of mommy/daughter walks. I hope these pleasant times together stretch on for many many years.
3/14/2006
getting ready
We leave early early Thursday morning for our cruise!!! (Our flight departs at 5:45am. Ugh.) I am busy with the details of getting ready. I have fun doing this sort of thing – as long as I start a few days ahead of time. But no matter how early I begin preparations, I am always packing late into the night before the trip. My goal is to NOT do that this time.
camera
travel pillow
toenails
passport
ticket
film
dramamine
highlights
chads haircut
formal wear
sunblock
The list goes on and on. I am super excited, but trying to manage my expectations at the same time. Chad and I had a wonderful week in Cancun for our honeymoon. Since then every time we’ve tried to vacation for just us, it has been a flop. We’re hoping with all our hearts that this time will be like our Cancun experience. The all-you-can-eat food should help!
I need to keep busy while Melody naps! (She is staying here with my mom. At first I felt unsure and panicky about it. Chad felt strongly that we need this trip for one-on-one time together, so I breathed deeply, prayed a little, and said, “Okay.” Since then I’ve felt peace about leaving her. She’ll be at home and she knows my mom well. Pray for her, if you think of it!)
camera
travel pillow
toenails
passport
ticket
film
dramamine
highlights
chads haircut
formal wear
sunblock
The list goes on and on. I am super excited, but trying to manage my expectations at the same time. Chad and I had a wonderful week in Cancun for our honeymoon. Since then every time we’ve tried to vacation for just us, it has been a flop. We’re hoping with all our hearts that this time will be like our Cancun experience. The all-you-can-eat food should help!
I need to keep busy while Melody naps! (She is staying here with my mom. At first I felt unsure and panicky about it. Chad felt strongly that we need this trip for one-on-one time together, so I breathed deeply, prayed a little, and said, “Okay.” Since then I’ve felt peace about leaving her. She’ll be at home and she knows my mom well. Pray for her, if you think of it!)
3/10/2006
housework whining
The battle of having a clean house has returned. For a few weeks I felt on top of it. I came up with a system that was working fairly well. On Mondays I'd stay home and work on the house pretty much nonstop. Of course I took lots of breaks for Melody -- diapers, meals, books, play, etc. But my goal for Mondays was to end the day with a neat, clean house. The rest of the week I did about one load of laundry a day, cooked dinner most nights, hung out with friends during the day, and kept things tidy at home. By Friday things were getting grimmy. The weekend arrived and Chad was home. He isn't a slob. He's actually neater than I am, most of the time. BUT, during the weekends I am not able to pick up after myself, Melody, AND him. So I decided to just relax about the house on the weekends, knowing that Monday would be the catchup day.
This worked well for awhile, but it also really wore me out. After several weeks of it, I started slacking. We left town for a weekend. I took a Monday off. Soon, the house was too far gone to fix in one day. At that point it felt like a mountain of a project again. Discouragement came and I ignored things even more. The spiral continued until we remembered our friends were coming into town this weekend. (!!!) I made a list of everything to do before their arrival. Last night after Melody went to sleep (7pm) I started working. Four hours later I wasn't finished yet. UGH. Now I'm exhuasted and I haven't even gotten to the master bedroom and bathroom yet. (It's the worst.)
I'm almost 30 years old. Shouldn't I have this house stuff figured out by now?
This worked well for awhile, but it also really wore me out. After several weeks of it, I started slacking. We left town for a weekend. I took a Monday off. Soon, the house was too far gone to fix in one day. At that point it felt like a mountain of a project again. Discouragement came and I ignored things even more. The spiral continued until we remembered our friends were coming into town this weekend. (!!!) I made a list of everything to do before their arrival. Last night after Melody went to sleep (7pm) I started working. Four hours later I wasn't finished yet. UGH. Now I'm exhuasted and I haven't even gotten to the master bedroom and bathroom yet. (It's the worst.)
I'm almost 30 years old. Shouldn't I have this house stuff figured out by now?
3/09/2006
sleep vs thoughts
The baby woke at 3:30am needing a bottle. I took care of her and returned to bed in less than 15 minutes. Despite the short amount of time awake, sleep did not return easily. I tossed and turned for hours. Jumbled thought tumbled around in my head.
the dog needs to go to the vet
what should I add to the stirfry to make it better next time
the spare room needs clean sheets
melodys new demin overalls will bleed onto white/pink clothes
the floors are all dirty
my tire needs to be fixed
email is broken
freelance is undone
babysitter cost too much
do I want a new job
I'm a bad teacher
what should I do with Melody's crazy hair
why can't I finish her room
the bathrooms are dirty
I'll make chinese chicken salad for lunch tomorrow
I don't have all the ingredients
I'll ask ellen to bring the things I don't have
that is rude
I'll go to walmart for the third day in a row
the dog needs to go to the vet
These thoughts sprinted in ciricles until the alarm sounded three hours later. I am exhausted this morning.
the dog needs to go to the vet
what should I add to the stirfry to make it better next time
the spare room needs clean sheets
melodys new demin overalls will bleed onto white/pink clothes
the floors are all dirty
my tire needs to be fixed
email is broken
freelance is undone
babysitter cost too much
do I want a new job
I'm a bad teacher
what should I do with Melody's crazy hair
why can't I finish her room
the bathrooms are dirty
I'll make chinese chicken salad for lunch tomorrow
I don't have all the ingredients
I'll ask ellen to bring the things I don't have
that is rude
I'll go to walmart for the third day in a row
the dog needs to go to the vet
These thoughts sprinted in ciricles until the alarm sounded three hours later. I am exhausted this morning.
3/08/2006
the bedroom verdict
I will be making an annoying trip to Target very soon. I get to return the items I bought for our bedroom. Yesterday I set it up so Chad could decide what he thought. I made the bed with the wine colored blanket and matching shams. I strategically placed three funky pillows in front of the shames. The sequenced one went in the middle. I took care to tuck the still-attached price tags out of view.
The next task was to display the odd assortment of window panels. I purchased three, all different, but similar in funky-ness. We don’t have trim inside the house yet, so we don’t have curtain rods up either. Because of this I used thumbtacks to hang the curtains. I arranged them with fake gathers to simulate the real deal. My plan was to buy an extra long curtain rod and hang various mismatched panels on it to create a wall of fun fabrics.
The biggest chore of the bedroom makeover was putting away the four loads of clean laundry that was piled on the floor. Bleh. That wasn’t nearly as fun as working with the new stuff. Chad arrived home from work and the folded clothes were still strewn across the newly made bed. I made him stay out of the room until I finished the laundry. Then he came in to see the new room.
His reaction was mild but sure. No. He laughed a little and said it was really different. He was surprised I liked it. I usually go for stripes, symmetry, mod, solids, etc. Not glitter, beads, shimmer and richness. The hippy look has lurked in the recesses of my preferences for a long time. It goes with the part of me that wants dreadlocks, nose jewelry, long carefree skirts and gardening as a hobby. In college I always admired the girls who had these characteristics, but I didn’t have the guts or know-how to go there myself.
I guess I should have embraced it enough to decorate my dorm room with beads and velvet, because now that I’m married my opportunity is gone. Some of you may be screaming as you read this because you think I need to stand strong and keep the Target stuff. But the thing is, I am totally okay with returning it. Even as I piled it onto the conveyor belt at the checkout line, I was unsure. This uncertainty was not because of Chad, but because of myself. One of the main reasons I wasn’t sure was because we keep things for a long time. We’ve had our current bed covering for over five years. I wasn’t sure I could commit to keeping the swanky look for that long. It was too much.
Chad said he’d rather us buy something at full price (!) than settle for something just because it was on sale. He’s right; I would not have chosen the same stuff if it hadn’t been for the 75% off sale. When it comes to discounts, I’m very weak. The truth is, I rarely see something I absolutely love, sale or not. Maybe it’s the inner critic inside that has a hard time finding the perfect stuff. As I browse I innately critique designs, color combinations, and the like. (I’m the same way with recipes -- always trying to figure out what to add to make it better.) Because of this, our home goes undone with mismatched stuff. Maybe in forty years it will be complete and pleasing to both Chad and me. Then again, if that were to happen, I’d probably be way too attached to it all.
The next task was to display the odd assortment of window panels. I purchased three, all different, but similar in funky-ness. We don’t have trim inside the house yet, so we don’t have curtain rods up either. Because of this I used thumbtacks to hang the curtains. I arranged them with fake gathers to simulate the real deal. My plan was to buy an extra long curtain rod and hang various mismatched panels on it to create a wall of fun fabrics.
The biggest chore of the bedroom makeover was putting away the four loads of clean laundry that was piled on the floor. Bleh. That wasn’t nearly as fun as working with the new stuff. Chad arrived home from work and the folded clothes were still strewn across the newly made bed. I made him stay out of the room until I finished the laundry. Then he came in to see the new room.
His reaction was mild but sure. No. He laughed a little and said it was really different. He was surprised I liked it. I usually go for stripes, symmetry, mod, solids, etc. Not glitter, beads, shimmer and richness. The hippy look has lurked in the recesses of my preferences for a long time. It goes with the part of me that wants dreadlocks, nose jewelry, long carefree skirts and gardening as a hobby. In college I always admired the girls who had these characteristics, but I didn’t have the guts or know-how to go there myself.
I guess I should have embraced it enough to decorate my dorm room with beads and velvet, because now that I’m married my opportunity is gone. Some of you may be screaming as you read this because you think I need to stand strong and keep the Target stuff. But the thing is, I am totally okay with returning it. Even as I piled it onto the conveyor belt at the checkout line, I was unsure. This uncertainty was not because of Chad, but because of myself. One of the main reasons I wasn’t sure was because we keep things for a long time. We’ve had our current bed covering for over five years. I wasn’t sure I could commit to keeping the swanky look for that long. It was too much.
Chad said he’d rather us buy something at full price (!) than settle for something just because it was on sale. He’s right; I would not have chosen the same stuff if it hadn’t been for the 75% off sale. When it comes to discounts, I’m very weak. The truth is, I rarely see something I absolutely love, sale or not. Maybe it’s the inner critic inside that has a hard time finding the perfect stuff. As I browse I innately critique designs, color combinations, and the like. (I’m the same way with recipes -- always trying to figure out what to add to make it better.) Because of this, our home goes undone with mismatched stuff. Maybe in forty years it will be complete and pleasing to both Chad and me. Then again, if that were to happen, I’d probably be way too attached to it all.
3/07/2006
a special smile
When we first met your eyes were the surprise
But after awhile it was your smile that captured my heart
From a distance you caught my eye
Your honest face would break into a slow smile
The substance of that smile was good, pure and honest
"Does he smile at others this way?" I wondered
Months later Grandma Frieda commented
"That one, Chad. He smiled at me. It was different and special."
She had seen it too
Now we are married
I still love that honest smile
Behind it is character, joy, understanding and love
The kind of love the bible speaks of
I'm slowly learning of these things
Maybe someday when I'm old someone will say,
"Her smile. It's different. It's special."
But after awhile it was your smile that captured my heart
From a distance you caught my eye
Your honest face would break into a slow smile
The substance of that smile was good, pure and honest
"Does he smile at others this way?" I wondered
Months later Grandma Frieda commented
"That one, Chad. He smiled at me. It was different and special."
She had seen it too
Now we are married
I still love that honest smile
Behind it is character, joy, understanding and love
The kind of love the bible speaks of
I'm slowly learning of these things
Maybe someday when I'm old someone will say,
"Her smile. It's different. It's special."
3/06/2006
super target lust & feeling low
My trip to Dallas was fun. I was able to spend time with my fun aunt and some relatives I don't see very often. Melody was a big hit, saying "hi" to everyone with her toddler wave. Being on a trip without Chad was hard, because I was the only parent for a few days. I ran and ran and ran keeping her dressed, rested, fed, and content. I am tired now. I'm also thankful as I realize how great Chad is at being involved and helping out.
One of the highlights of the trip was Super Target. I went there four times during the four day excursion. I found a 75% off sale and bought stuff for our bedroom. I went with an asian-swanky-shimmery look. I got a queen blanket with shams for under $20 and several beaded pillows for under $5 each. Sales make me happy. The catch is, "Will Chad like this new look for our room?" It's pretty different for him. He's more into corduroy, wood, flannel, etc. A lot of wives make their homes whatever they want and don't worry about the husband's likes/dislikes. For the most part Chad lets me do what I want, but I like to make sure he likes it, too. Tomorrow I will set up our new room and see what he thinks. I won't be distraught if I end up returning everything and waiting for another 75% off sale on a look we both like. I'll keep you updated.
When I shop at places like Super Target, I suffer from small town discontentment. I browsed the aisles with a Starbucks mocha. (Skim, half the chocolate, with whip cream, extra hot -- I've become one of THOSE coffee drinkers. When I first started drinking coffee a few years back, I'd hear people order with several specifications and I'd wonder what the heck they were talking about. Now I'm doing it!)
Anyway, the perfect rows of oranges and lettuce in the produce department appealed to my aesthetic instincts. I noticed healthfood brands, which I'd only seen at healthfood stores before. Also, the organic milk was 30 cents less per half gallon than low price leader Walmart. (Gasp!) I also enjoyed driving on the busy roads and being in the hustle and bustle. Dallas is NOT a city I'd choose to live in, but it had a hint of the things I like about highly populated places. Now that I'm home, I'm enjoying rural things like stars, quiet, trees, etc. I'm not unhappy here... but I sure enjoy getting away often.
I am still having trouble being motivated. My class is tonight and once again, I'm struggling to prepare enough to feel like a good teacher. I think I'm borderline depressed again. It's always hard to know how I FEEL, but when I get apathetic about things I love, I start to wonder. I haven't been very good about taking my antidepressant every single time. I've been on it for 10 months now and I've been toying with the idea of weaning to see how I do. Maybe this is why I'm not as religious about taking it every single time I'm suppose to. Maybe I'm subconciously trying to see what happens if I slow down with the dosages. I know this is not the right way to wean from a drug. I guess it is time to see the doctor again. Even that feels like a huge mountain. Could that be another Depressed Rebekah sign? I don't want to blame every lazy feeling I have on depression though. I think this is why I fight accepting the fact that I'm not doing well. I equate accepting the depression with laziness or giving up, even though that does not make sense.
One of the highlights of the trip was Super Target. I went there four times during the four day excursion. I found a 75% off sale and bought stuff for our bedroom. I went with an asian-swanky-shimmery look. I got a queen blanket with shams for under $20 and several beaded pillows for under $5 each. Sales make me happy. The catch is, "Will Chad like this new look for our room?" It's pretty different for him. He's more into corduroy, wood, flannel, etc. A lot of wives make their homes whatever they want and don't worry about the husband's likes/dislikes. For the most part Chad lets me do what I want, but I like to make sure he likes it, too. Tomorrow I will set up our new room and see what he thinks. I won't be distraught if I end up returning everything and waiting for another 75% off sale on a look we both like. I'll keep you updated.
When I shop at places like Super Target, I suffer from small town discontentment. I browsed the aisles with a Starbucks mocha. (Skim, half the chocolate, with whip cream, extra hot -- I've become one of THOSE coffee drinkers. When I first started drinking coffee a few years back, I'd hear people order with several specifications and I'd wonder what the heck they were talking about. Now I'm doing it!)
Anyway, the perfect rows of oranges and lettuce in the produce department appealed to my aesthetic instincts. I noticed healthfood brands, which I'd only seen at healthfood stores before. Also, the organic milk was 30 cents less per half gallon than low price leader Walmart. (Gasp!) I also enjoyed driving on the busy roads and being in the hustle and bustle. Dallas is NOT a city I'd choose to live in, but it had a hint of the things I like about highly populated places. Now that I'm home, I'm enjoying rural things like stars, quiet, trees, etc. I'm not unhappy here... but I sure enjoy getting away often.
I am still having trouble being motivated. My class is tonight and once again, I'm struggling to prepare enough to feel like a good teacher. I think I'm borderline depressed again. It's always hard to know how I FEEL, but when I get apathetic about things I love, I start to wonder. I haven't been very good about taking my antidepressant every single time. I've been on it for 10 months now and I've been toying with the idea of weaning to see how I do. Maybe this is why I'm not as religious about taking it every single time I'm suppose to. Maybe I'm subconciously trying to see what happens if I slow down with the dosages. I know this is not the right way to wean from a drug. I guess it is time to see the doctor again. Even that feels like a huge mountain. Could that be another Depressed Rebekah sign? I don't want to blame every lazy feeling I have on depression though. I think this is why I fight accepting the fact that I'm not doing well. I equate accepting the depression with laziness or giving up, even though that does not make sense.
3/01/2006
slacking, party & trip
Lately, I've been behind on everything. Housework, meals, teaching, freelance, bills, even blogging. For awhile I was on top of things. I don't know how it happened, but I lost my motivation. I fell back into the pattern of going places to escape the undone house. I hate living that way.
And about the class I'm teaching... I love the idea of teaching. I love the university and the students. I even enjoy the subject matter. So WHY is it hard for me to stay prepared and motivated?? I don't understand. I need a kick in the butt or something.
Another thing that's bugging me is that I have nothing to say when people ask how I'm doing. "Good, good. I'm fine." Blah, blah, blah. There is nothing new to report. I end up talking about Melody instead... "The baby is walking!" Yesterday someone replied with, "Great! But how are you?"
"Uhhhh.... good, I think?" I haven't had a case of humdrum life in awhile. It's not fun.
Last weekend I had a birthday party for my brother and his college roommate. They turned 19 in the same week. Christopher invited 10 of his guy friends over for dinner, a bonfire, and some gun shooting. I made thousands of enchiladas and a german chocolate cake from sratch. I think I used every single utensil, pan, and dish in the kitchen. Twice. It has taken three whole-hearted attempts of kitchen-cleaning to get everything back in order. I also made a huge Happy Birthday banner with eight pieces of poster board and acrylic paints. I combined uppercase and lowercase letters with four fun colors to create a silly up-and-down type design. Chad and I hung it over the couch in the living room.
By the time everyone arrived, I was too exhausted to enjoy hosting. After several hours of hoop-la I was ready for an empty quiet house. I was slightly nervous with the college age guys. Chad and I don't know how to relate or act around them. Maybe it's because for the first time we're the older ones?
Tomorrow my mom, Melody and I leave for a trip to Texas. We'll be gone four days to visit family and go to a wedding. Maybe this girlie roadtrip is what I need. I hope so. Chad will work on the house while we're away. He's looking forward to being able to focus on the projects without being distracted. There are still many many things left to complete before our June deadline. The stress of these projects is probably the biggest contributing factor to my funk.
And about the class I'm teaching... I love the idea of teaching. I love the university and the students. I even enjoy the subject matter. So WHY is it hard for me to stay prepared and motivated?? I don't understand. I need a kick in the butt or something.
Another thing that's bugging me is that I have nothing to say when people ask how I'm doing. "Good, good. I'm fine." Blah, blah, blah. There is nothing new to report. I end up talking about Melody instead... "The baby is walking!" Yesterday someone replied with, "Great! But how are you?"
"Uhhhh.... good, I think?" I haven't had a case of humdrum life in awhile. It's not fun.
Last weekend I had a birthday party for my brother and his college roommate. They turned 19 in the same week. Christopher invited 10 of his guy friends over for dinner, a bonfire, and some gun shooting. I made thousands of enchiladas and a german chocolate cake from sratch. I think I used every single utensil, pan, and dish in the kitchen. Twice. It has taken three whole-hearted attempts of kitchen-cleaning to get everything back in order. I also made a huge Happy Birthday banner with eight pieces of poster board and acrylic paints. I combined uppercase and lowercase letters with four fun colors to create a silly up-and-down type design. Chad and I hung it over the couch in the living room.
By the time everyone arrived, I was too exhausted to enjoy hosting. After several hours of hoop-la I was ready for an empty quiet house. I was slightly nervous with the college age guys. Chad and I don't know how to relate or act around them. Maybe it's because for the first time we're the older ones?
Tomorrow my mom, Melody and I leave for a trip to Texas. We'll be gone four days to visit family and go to a wedding. Maybe this girlie roadtrip is what I need. I hope so. Chad will work on the house while we're away. He's looking forward to being able to focus on the projects without being distracted. There are still many many things left to complete before our June deadline. The stress of these projects is probably the biggest contributing factor to my funk.
2/23/2006
heartbreak
It is through blurry tears and painful heartache that I write this morning. Minutes ago I found out that a sweet seven month old baby girl passed away yesterday. I went to college with her parents. We live in the same small town but I'm not sure they know who I am. Through their website, I've followed the story of their baby girl's struggle to hang onto life since she was two months old. A couple nights ago, she went home to heaven. I am heartbroken even though I never met her. The age old question of "Why?" repeats in my head.
Once again I'm reminded that we were not made to deal with death. When God created us, death was not in the equation. Death came later. Could this explain why our finite minds cannot grasp loss of life? Because we weren't meant to die? In moments like these I long for heaven with my whole being. I long for wholeness and togetherness with God forever.
Our prayers are with you, John and Miriam.
We love you.
Once again I'm reminded that we were not made to deal with death. When God created us, death was not in the equation. Death came later. Could this explain why our finite minds cannot grasp loss of life? Because we weren't meant to die? In moments like these I long for heaven with my whole being. I long for wholeness and togetherness with God forever.
Our prayers are with you, John and Miriam.
We love you.
2/22/2006
time for battle?
Melody is fourteen months today. As we enter the toddler stage, things are both fun and difficult. Several months ago I found myself beginning to say the infamous "no." Since then the frequency of uses had continually increased. I'm fairly certain we haven't reached the peak of the crescendo yet. Each day Melody's coordination improves. She's not just walking now; she's cruising. It's so odd when I'm in the kitchen and all of the sudden she walks around the corner to join me. I feel like I have a teenager! She's also learning how to climb. A few days ago she braved the coffee table. Once on it, she acted like king of the mountain; so proud of herself.
I am struggling as we embark on these toddler activities. I have always heard poeple say, "Choose your battles." I assumed they were cautioning against fighting every single battle with their child. When Melody does something new that I'm not sure about (like the coffee table), I find myself sighing and thinking, "I don't want to fight any battles at all!"
I don't think the reason for my apathy is laziness. I simply don't know HOW to fight a battle. We decided to make the trash can our battle. It is right on her level and she likes to pick things out of it. I have tried repeatedly saying no. She looks at me and does it again. Her face is not showing defiance though. I've tried flicking her hand. She cried, but again, there was no connection. I know people think I'm being too lenient, but I truly don't believe she understands yet. I think it would be easier if she were defiant. Then I would feel okay about being more harsh. As it is, I distract her instead. Now she has started standing by the trashcan and singing, "no no no no no." It's pretty funny. I guess something is starting to click in that little head of hers.
For the first time I feel at a loss about how to be a mom. Caring for her in the first 12 months came easily. I knew what to do and felt comfortable doing it. Now I feel unsure of myself. I'm sure Melody picks up on this insecurity. Could that be why she already obeys Grammy more than me?
I've heard moms say they didn't like the baby stage because they just aren't into babies. Others say the same about toddlers. This logic is strange to me. I am prepared for certain stages to be harder than others, but I want to stay positive while in the midst of each one. Things got really hard (physically) when I was pregnant, but the hardship didn't lessen my joy toward the baby. I want that type attitude to continue as my kid(s) grow and change. At this point, I'm struggling to maintain the joy and ease. I find myself questioning our mother/daughter relationship. (Already!) A couple weeks ago my mom came for a visit. Less than ten minutes after her arrival I was in tears as I explained the trash can drama.
I not only want to learn good techniques in discipline and child rearing; I also want to learn how to keep my joy in the midst of the hard days. Does anyone have stories, book referrals, or suggestions that might help me right now?
I am struggling as we embark on these toddler activities. I have always heard poeple say, "Choose your battles." I assumed they were cautioning against fighting every single battle with their child. When Melody does something new that I'm not sure about (like the coffee table), I find myself sighing and thinking, "I don't want to fight any battles at all!"
I don't think the reason for my apathy is laziness. I simply don't know HOW to fight a battle. We decided to make the trash can our battle. It is right on her level and she likes to pick things out of it. I have tried repeatedly saying no. She looks at me and does it again. Her face is not showing defiance though. I've tried flicking her hand. She cried, but again, there was no connection. I know people think I'm being too lenient, but I truly don't believe she understands yet. I think it would be easier if she were defiant. Then I would feel okay about being more harsh. As it is, I distract her instead. Now she has started standing by the trashcan and singing, "no no no no no." It's pretty funny. I guess something is starting to click in that little head of hers.
For the first time I feel at a loss about how to be a mom. Caring for her in the first 12 months came easily. I knew what to do and felt comfortable doing it. Now I feel unsure of myself. I'm sure Melody picks up on this insecurity. Could that be why she already obeys Grammy more than me?
I've heard moms say they didn't like the baby stage because they just aren't into babies. Others say the same about toddlers. This logic is strange to me. I am prepared for certain stages to be harder than others, but I want to stay positive while in the midst of each one. Things got really hard (physically) when I was pregnant, but the hardship didn't lessen my joy toward the baby. I want that type attitude to continue as my kid(s) grow and change. At this point, I'm struggling to maintain the joy and ease. I find myself questioning our mother/daughter relationship. (Already!) A couple weeks ago my mom came for a visit. Less than ten minutes after her arrival I was in tears as I explained the trash can drama.
I not only want to learn good techniques in discipline and child rearing; I also want to learn how to keep my joy in the midst of the hard days. Does anyone have stories, book referrals, or suggestions that might help me right now?
2/20/2006
girl on a mission
The paper organization feat is DONE! Chad has been out of town for the past few days. My parents came to hang out with me and Melody. I attacked the study/office while there were here. (Turns out, I was totally PMSing, which leads to major nesting for me. The motivation is a great thing.) I worked for about five hours, total. (!) There were roughly four huge piles, each about 6 to 8 inches tall. I broke everything down into filing groups. As I went through them, I realized many of the papers were from 2003 and 2004. (This is so embarrassing.) I decided to NOT file those papers. Instead they are to remain neatly unorganized, but accessable incase we need something from two years ago. Everything from 2005 to present is in it's place though! I feel so good each time I pass the orange french doors leading into the study. I look in and smile at the cleared off floor. For months it was covered with the piles. What a downer.
I also bought two bright blue baskets for our wrapping paper, house plans, posters, and anything else that is rolled up. They are all neating standing next to each other in the baskets now. Eeeeeeee. I guess PMS is good for something after all.
Next month's project: Organize owners manuals. (My hubby refuses to throw any of them away. I made an executive decision yesterday and got rid of a few including, ice cream maker, waffle iron and coffee grinder. Shhh. Don't tell.)
I also bought two bright blue baskets for our wrapping paper, house plans, posters, and anything else that is rolled up. They are all neating standing next to each other in the baskets now. Eeeeeeee. I guess PMS is good for something after all.
Next month's project: Organize owners manuals. (My hubby refuses to throw any of them away. I made an executive decision yesterday and got rid of a few including, ice cream maker, waffle iron and coffee grinder. Shhh. Don't tell.)
2/17/2006
birth story aftermath
Sharing Melody's birth story was relatively easy. In the weeks after she was born I was able to journal a lot. Referring to the pages of my sleep deprived handwriting gave me a skeleton on which to build the story. Figuring out how to be honest and complete while remaining tasteful and private was the hardest part of the process.
The difficult part of the story comes after the birth. This is the when things got hazy and strange. There was so much going on inside of me. I was overjoyed to finally experience Melody with all of my senses. Seeing, smelling, watching, hearing and touching her captivated me. Caring for her was easy.
Several times a day someone would comment on how little Melody was. I had a hard time acknowledging this statement. Each time I'd look at her head, tears would spring to my eyes. I would look away and recall the pain of pushing her out. Never before had I thought of a newborn as big. My new perspective bothered me, but I didn't know how to change it.
I was stunned and shocked when I thought about the labor. I felt betrayed. I thought I knew what I was getting into, but the pain was more than I had expected. I was angry. I thought about the books, authors, teachers and friends who had taught me about natural childbirth. Had they lied to me? Was it propaganda? How could they have glorified such a painful thing? How could they have used words like beautiful and wonderful while talking about childbirth? On the other hand, maybe there was no way to really know until afterward. How can you describe that kind of pain to someone who hasn't experienced it? How can you prepare them for it? I was dizzy with confusion.
As I struggled with these thoughts and questions, one thing was certian. I was different. For the first time in my life I was not a girl. I was 100% woman. A chasm separated me from those who were not mothers. I had been inducted into a new phase of human nature and it made me feel old. I don't mean old in the sense of wrinkles and frailness. No, it was more of a soul thing.
Have you ever met someone who's eyes were different because of their life experiences? I visited Africa two years before Melody was born. I became acquainted with a few widows from Sudan. Their eyes possessed something I'd never seen before. There was strength, depth, and understanding in them. Not only had they been through the birthing process; they had also experienced the death of their husbands and the destruction of their homes. Most of them had lost children as well. Despite the ongoing heartache, they were joyful, loving, warm, and kind. Their eyes show truimph over the horrible things that had happened to them.
After Melody's birth, I felt a hint of this aging thing settle inside of me. Without realizing it, I began searching for a way to make my painful experience a better thing. My bewilderment slowly turned into understanding. Now, nearly fourteen months later, I am able to say that Melody's birth was both beautiful and wonderful.
Someday I will meet a girl who dreams of being a mother. When she looks into my eyes, I wonder if she will notice anything different?
The difficult part of the story comes after the birth. This is the when things got hazy and strange. There was so much going on inside of me. I was overjoyed to finally experience Melody with all of my senses. Seeing, smelling, watching, hearing and touching her captivated me. Caring for her was easy.
Several times a day someone would comment on how little Melody was. I had a hard time acknowledging this statement. Each time I'd look at her head, tears would spring to my eyes. I would look away and recall the pain of pushing her out. Never before had I thought of a newborn as big. My new perspective bothered me, but I didn't know how to change it.
I was stunned and shocked when I thought about the labor. I felt betrayed. I thought I knew what I was getting into, but the pain was more than I had expected. I was angry. I thought about the books, authors, teachers and friends who had taught me about natural childbirth. Had they lied to me? Was it propaganda? How could they have glorified such a painful thing? How could they have used words like beautiful and wonderful while talking about childbirth? On the other hand, maybe there was no way to really know until afterward. How can you describe that kind of pain to someone who hasn't experienced it? How can you prepare them for it? I was dizzy with confusion.
As I struggled with these thoughts and questions, one thing was certian. I was different. For the first time in my life I was not a girl. I was 100% woman. A chasm separated me from those who were not mothers. I had been inducted into a new phase of human nature and it made me feel old. I don't mean old in the sense of wrinkles and frailness. No, it was more of a soul thing.
Have you ever met someone who's eyes were different because of their life experiences? I visited Africa two years before Melody was born. I became acquainted with a few widows from Sudan. Their eyes possessed something I'd never seen before. There was strength, depth, and understanding in them. Not only had they been through the birthing process; they had also experienced the death of their husbands and the destruction of their homes. Most of them had lost children as well. Despite the ongoing heartache, they were joyful, loving, warm, and kind. Their eyes show truimph over the horrible things that had happened to them.
After Melody's birth, I felt a hint of this aging thing settle inside of me. Without realizing it, I began searching for a way to make my painful experience a better thing. My bewilderment slowly turned into understanding. Now, nearly fourteen months later, I am able to say that Melody's birth was both beautiful and wonderful.
Someday I will meet a girl who dreams of being a mother. When she looks into my eyes, I wonder if she will notice anything different?
2/15/2006
melody's birth story, part 6
After laboring beside the bed for awhile, Jennifer could tell the baby was close to being born. She suggested I move the to the love seat couch in our room. Pillows surrounded me and chux pads were everywhere. My hair had been up in a messy ponytail for hours. It slipped out and fell around my neck and face. I was irritated and barked for someone to put it back up. Chad attempted, but didn't do a good job. It was still loose and threatened to fall down. In one of the 15 second breaks between contractions, I slung it on top of my head and forcefully wrapped the rubber band around it.
Chad perched on the wide arm of the couch next to me. He held a cool washcloth to my face, neck and chest. Teresa sat on the floor, directly in front of me. She rubbed my feet and lower legs to ward off cramping. I felt on the verge of a food cramp several times. I thought I'd completely loose it if a cramp came. Apple juice ice cubes were put into my mouth. "Try to eat these. They will help with the cramps." They had calcium citrate and vitamin C. They were refreshing; I crunched them quickly between contractions.
The contractions became so intense that I was not able to relax my lower body at all. I propped my feet up on Teresa's legs and she talked me through them. I could tell my body was ready to push, but something held me back. I was still afraid. Also, I had absolutely no urge. I kept waiting to "want" to push. The contractions made my legs feel like they would twist off at the hips. I looked into Jennifer's face, silently asking her with my eyes, "Is this normal? Is everything okay?" Her demeanor remained calm and normal. Her eyes responded, also silently, "Yes. You are fine. Do not be scared." This silent communication is one of the sweetest memories of my labor. Without it, I would have been paralyzed with fear, pain, and dread. Because I knew and trusted Jennifer, I believed everything that was happening was normal, despite the incredible intensity and mind boggling pain.
Finally Jennifer suggested for me to feel inside and touch the baby's head. I don't remember if I thought it a weird or gross thing to do. I responded like a robot and did it. I felt a warm and firm surface less than an inch from the outside world. I had no sweet thoughts regarding having just touched my baby's head for the first time. Things were too hard for awe. My only thought was objective and practical, "If the baby is this close, then pushing will make it all be over sooner." I decided to start pushing even though I still had no urge to do so. It was about 10:00pm.
Jennifer brought a wooden birth stool from her car. It was made of two skinny pieces of wood which created a v-shaped 90º angle. It was only 12 inches tall. I sat on it and leaned against the front of the couch. Chad sat on the couch directly behind me with his legs on either side of me. I rested my arms on his knees; a very comfortable position. When a contraction began, I'd take three of four slow, long, deep, abdominal breaths. On the last one I'd hold my breath, curl forward, and push with all my might. My entire upper body remained relaxed in the midst of pushing. My lips were loose like a camel's and my arms dangled at my sides. All my strength and power was centered on pushing the baby out. I tilted my pelvis up to complete the curled position. We'd been taught that the birth canal is the shortest in this position. It took a few times to get everything right. After awhile I was pushing in a full squat. At the end of each push, I'd sit on the birth stool again and fall into Chad's arms. It was a comfort and relief each time I felt his chest behind me.
After 25 minutes of pushing someone said, "Get a mirror." I had no desire to see what was happening, but I obeyed like a robot again, and looked down to see half the baby's head was out. I felt no ring of fire that so many people describe during crowing. With the next push, the rest of the head came out. Again I looked in the mirror. I saw a gray colored head with lots of dark hair. I was not able to see the face because it was facing down. The baby tumbled out of me with the next contraction / push. Chad says that I hollered loudly for a long time after she was out. I don't remember making any noise.
The baby immediately pooped a bunch of meconium. Jennifer wiped her down and handed her to me in one swift motion. A blanket was placed over the baby for warmth. Chad was still behind me looking down at her with awe. He said something like, "Wow. Hi baby." I felt nothing but relief. Relief. Relief. Relief. There was no joy. No happiness. No tears. Only pure relief. Relief that it was over and that the baby was healthy. The first thing I noticed about her body were her ears. They were both bunched up into two squishy balls of red flesh. I was slightly taken aback, then immediately thought, "Oh well, at least she is whole and healthy. We can deal with weird ears." It turned out there were that way because of the birth. Within five minutes they were flat and perfect.
Chad cut the cord after it stopped pulsing. He was surprised at the toughness of it. He said it was like cutting a garden hose. Soon the placenta came. The contraction that delivered the placenta was mild compared to the previous ones. My whole body trembled uncontrollably and I was chilled. Someone covered me with a quilt. The warmth of the quilt was the first sensation of comfort and sanity I felt after the birth. Rational thoughts began popping into my head. "Is it a boy or girl?" I repeated this question several times. We expected to have a girl because of an ultrasound prediction, but I still wondered. Finally Teresa said, "Why don't you look and see?" I was annoyed by this; I didn't want to look for myself, I just wanted to know. When I pulled the blanket back I saw puffy red girl parts. The ultrasound had been correct. I smiled and joy begin to seep from my heart to the rest of my being. I had a baby girl.
Her coloring was grayish so we gave her oxygen by placing a tube near her nose. Soon she was pink and noisy. Her sounds were high pitched and girlie. She had been born at 10:30, ten and a half hours after my first strong contraction.
A few minutes after the birth I asked if I had torn. I felt no pain so I was unsure. Jennifer informed me that I had. After holding the baby for awhile I gave her to Chad and got onto the bed. Jennifer covered a large hardback dictionary with padding and slid it under me. I found this humorous. She gave me several shots of local anesthetic; only a couple of them hurt. In that moment my pain tolerance was very high because of the recent memory of birth. I said something like, "You could rip my arm off and I wouldn't blink." I received 7 stitches for a second degree tear. I was disappointed that I had torn, but relieved and grateful that my baby was strong and healthy.
After the stitches were complete, I attempted to eat some Lipton chicken noodle soup. It did not taste good, so I set it aside. Jennifer measured and weighed the baby. She was 7 pounds, 14 ounces and 20 inches long. After this the baby and I took an herb bath. It seemed appropriate since we had spent so much time in the water during the labor. As the baby and I were in the tub, Jennifer lit three candles and turned off the lights. Chad resumed his place on the toilet seat and Jennifer left us alone. The baby's eyes opened wide in the dark room. She floated like a buoy and relaxed in the warm water. Chad and I watched her in awe and decided to name her Melody Raine.
Jennifer and Teresa left at 3:00am, about 12 hours after they arrived. Chad and I slept about 20 minutes at a time that night. Melody was tiny, laying between our two pillows. She was wrapped in a blanket with a hat on her small head. She made squeaky, chirping sounds during her first sleep in this world.
Chad perched on the wide arm of the couch next to me. He held a cool washcloth to my face, neck and chest. Teresa sat on the floor, directly in front of me. She rubbed my feet and lower legs to ward off cramping. I felt on the verge of a food cramp several times. I thought I'd completely loose it if a cramp came. Apple juice ice cubes were put into my mouth. "Try to eat these. They will help with the cramps." They had calcium citrate and vitamin C. They were refreshing; I crunched them quickly between contractions.
The contractions became so intense that I was not able to relax my lower body at all. I propped my feet up on Teresa's legs and she talked me through them. I could tell my body was ready to push, but something held me back. I was still afraid. Also, I had absolutely no urge. I kept waiting to "want" to push. The contractions made my legs feel like they would twist off at the hips. I looked into Jennifer's face, silently asking her with my eyes, "Is this normal? Is everything okay?" Her demeanor remained calm and normal. Her eyes responded, also silently, "Yes. You are fine. Do not be scared." This silent communication is one of the sweetest memories of my labor. Without it, I would have been paralyzed with fear, pain, and dread. Because I knew and trusted Jennifer, I believed everything that was happening was normal, despite the incredible intensity and mind boggling pain.
Finally Jennifer suggested for me to feel inside and touch the baby's head. I don't remember if I thought it a weird or gross thing to do. I responded like a robot and did it. I felt a warm and firm surface less than an inch from the outside world. I had no sweet thoughts regarding having just touched my baby's head for the first time. Things were too hard for awe. My only thought was objective and practical, "If the baby is this close, then pushing will make it all be over sooner." I decided to start pushing even though I still had no urge to do so. It was about 10:00pm.
Jennifer brought a wooden birth stool from her car. It was made of two skinny pieces of wood which created a v-shaped 90º angle. It was only 12 inches tall. I sat on it and leaned against the front of the couch. Chad sat on the couch directly behind me with his legs on either side of me. I rested my arms on his knees; a very comfortable position. When a contraction began, I'd take three of four slow, long, deep, abdominal breaths. On the last one I'd hold my breath, curl forward, and push with all my might. My entire upper body remained relaxed in the midst of pushing. My lips were loose like a camel's and my arms dangled at my sides. All my strength and power was centered on pushing the baby out. I tilted my pelvis up to complete the curled position. We'd been taught that the birth canal is the shortest in this position. It took a few times to get everything right. After awhile I was pushing in a full squat. At the end of each push, I'd sit on the birth stool again and fall into Chad's arms. It was a comfort and relief each time I felt his chest behind me.
After 25 minutes of pushing someone said, "Get a mirror." I had no desire to see what was happening, but I obeyed like a robot again, and looked down to see half the baby's head was out. I felt no ring of fire that so many people describe during crowing. With the next push, the rest of the head came out. Again I looked in the mirror. I saw a gray colored head with lots of dark hair. I was not able to see the face because it was facing down. The baby tumbled out of me with the next contraction / push. Chad says that I hollered loudly for a long time after she was out. I don't remember making any noise.
The baby immediately pooped a bunch of meconium. Jennifer wiped her down and handed her to me in one swift motion. A blanket was placed over the baby for warmth. Chad was still behind me looking down at her with awe. He said something like, "Wow. Hi baby." I felt nothing but relief. Relief. Relief. Relief. There was no joy. No happiness. No tears. Only pure relief. Relief that it was over and that the baby was healthy. The first thing I noticed about her body were her ears. They were both bunched up into two squishy balls of red flesh. I was slightly taken aback, then immediately thought, "Oh well, at least she is whole and healthy. We can deal with weird ears." It turned out there were that way because of the birth. Within five minutes they were flat and perfect.
Chad cut the cord after it stopped pulsing. He was surprised at the toughness of it. He said it was like cutting a garden hose. Soon the placenta came. The contraction that delivered the placenta was mild compared to the previous ones. My whole body trembled uncontrollably and I was chilled. Someone covered me with a quilt. The warmth of the quilt was the first sensation of comfort and sanity I felt after the birth. Rational thoughts began popping into my head. "Is it a boy or girl?" I repeated this question several times. We expected to have a girl because of an ultrasound prediction, but I still wondered. Finally Teresa said, "Why don't you look and see?" I was annoyed by this; I didn't want to look for myself, I just wanted to know. When I pulled the blanket back I saw puffy red girl parts. The ultrasound had been correct. I smiled and joy begin to seep from my heart to the rest of my being. I had a baby girl.
Her coloring was grayish so we gave her oxygen by placing a tube near her nose. Soon she was pink and noisy. Her sounds were high pitched and girlie. She had been born at 10:30, ten and a half hours after my first strong contraction.
A few minutes after the birth I asked if I had torn. I felt no pain so I was unsure. Jennifer informed me that I had. After holding the baby for awhile I gave her to Chad and got onto the bed. Jennifer covered a large hardback dictionary with padding and slid it under me. I found this humorous. She gave me several shots of local anesthetic; only a couple of them hurt. In that moment my pain tolerance was very high because of the recent memory of birth. I said something like, "You could rip my arm off and I wouldn't blink." I received 7 stitches for a second degree tear. I was disappointed that I had torn, but relieved and grateful that my baby was strong and healthy.
After the stitches were complete, I attempted to eat some Lipton chicken noodle soup. It did not taste good, so I set it aside. Jennifer measured and weighed the baby. She was 7 pounds, 14 ounces and 20 inches long. After this the baby and I took an herb bath. It seemed appropriate since we had spent so much time in the water during the labor. As the baby and I were in the tub, Jennifer lit three candles and turned off the lights. Chad resumed his place on the toilet seat and Jennifer left us alone. The baby's eyes opened wide in the dark room. She floated like a buoy and relaxed in the warm water. Chad and I watched her in awe and decided to name her Melody Raine.
Jennifer and Teresa left at 3:00am, about 12 hours after they arrived. Chad and I slept about 20 minutes at a time that night. Melody was tiny, laying between our two pillows. She was wrapped in a blanket with a hat on her small head. She made squeaky, chirping sounds during her first sleep in this world.
2/14/2006
melody's birth story, part 5
After Jennifer and Teresa arrived, our birth team was complete. They hung back, leaving me and Chad alone most of the time. Teresa prepared smoothies with strawberries, banana, calcium citrate, and vitamin C powder. Jennifer continued to take vitals each 20 or 30 minutes.
After laboring in bed for awhile, I decided to try to bathtub. The hot water felt like heaven. I was immediately able to cope more efficiently. With each contraction I'd close my eyes, drop my head down to my chest, inhale through my nose, exhale through my open, loose lips, and completely fade away. The water decreased my pain by about 50%. I was happy. I felt on top of things. Teresa and Jennifer did many little things to make my surroundings comfortable. They rolled towels for my neck and head. They unscrewed all but one of the light bulbs in the bathroom, creating a dimly lit room. They spoke in hushed tones. I barely noticed these things, but looking back, I know they helped a lot.
Chad sat on the toilet seat the whole time I was in the tub. He timed my contractions, talked to me, read Psalm 19 (my favorite), prayed a little, and listened to me. Between contractions I felt fine. Every 30 minutes I would get out of the tub to pee. This was important to Jennifer. I tried my best to cooperate. Going to the toilet meant extra contractions in an unfamiliar place and position. A contraction would end and I'd practically jump out of the tub in order to avoid moving during the pain. I was surprised at my agility and strength. Those contractions are big motivators! I'd sit backward on the toilet, my arms crossed and resting on the tank lid, and my head laying on my arms.
Time passed very quickly. Each time I inquired, at least an entire hour had passed. As the hours clicked by, the intensity increased. I was not able to stay still during contractions. I began having irrational thoughts. I felt scared of the baby. I wondered if I wanted a baby at all. I felt trapped by the inevitability of the second stage of labor. At the same time, I wanted progress because I wanted it to be over. I started wondering how anyone chooses to have more than one baby. Then I thought about people who choose to have an epidural and I felt humbled. I decided I would never be judgmental of anyone for choosing pain relief again. For the first time the validity of their choices sunk in with full force. I never thought about drugs for myself. Maybe that is because there were no drugs available since we were at home. I don't know what my thought process would have been in a hospital. It was a non-issue at home though.
As things progressed I became restless, nervous and afraid. I was scared. I threw up while sitting on the toilet. Chad held a bowl for me while Teresa and Jennifer encouraged me; it meant progress. It was about 8:30 (about 7 hours after labor started) and I was in transition. After this my body switched gears. It felt like a race car, taking off as fast as possible. I was out of breath and hot. We all heard a popping sound. It was my water breaking, under water. Jennifer checked for discoloration, and found none, meaning there was no meconium in the amniotic fluid. This brought me relief because I knew the baby was okay.
With each contraction, my legs writhed back and forth, side to side. I could not relax or stay still. Chad tried to talk me through it all, but it didn't help. The water was claustrophobic and I needed to find a new place to be. I got out of the tub and sat on the toilet.
[During the birthing classes we were taught that with second stage, women loose their sense of modesty. I thought, "Nope. Not me. I won't." Wrong! I was naked as a jay bird and didn't even think about it. Later Chad said it was a little weird for him at first. He got over it quickly; especially after he thought about how many times Jennifer and Teresa attended labors. This was normal stuff for them.]
At this point the contractions became ultra intense. I made low guttural sounds with each exhale. During these sounds I'd rest my chin low on my chest. The sounds were like a humming or a low roar. I had not planned to make noise like this during my birth. I had read of others doing so, but it seemed weird to me. Once the time came, weirdness did not matter. The sounds helped me cope with the intensity, and that was all that mattered. At the beginning of my noise-making I looked at Chad and said, "Don't be scared." I didn't know how he'd respond. He encouraged me to do whatever in order to keep my bearings. Teresa reminding me to keep the sounds low, as to not strain my vocal cords. She would do it with me and I'd mimic her.
Soon we moved back to the bed. I stood next to it, leaning over the side. Chad sat on the bed, holding my hands with his head close to mine. I panicked at first because I didn't know how to cope with the pain in this new position. Everyone told me I was doing a great job. Teresa reminding me to breath. I tried, but felt unsuccessful. My legs and hips refused to relax; the pain in my inner thighs was the worst.
Jennifer checked me internally at this point. She was gentle, but it caused a horrific contraction anyway. I was dilated to 9.5 centimeters. Only a lip of the cervix remained. She described it as goo or melted butter. This meant I could start pushing and the baby would move down without swelling the cervix. I had a hard time comprehending these things in the midst of all the pain. The contractions were right on top of each other, only leaving 15 seconds breaks for rest. Each one felt like a semi truck barreling through my body. Relaxing was impossible. I stood by the bed, and rocked back and forth. I felt trapped and out of control. On the outside I was calm and relatively relaxed. Looking back I think I was trying really hard to preform for the others. I had had no idea performance anxiety would be part of my labor, but I wanted to do everything the right way so that Teresa and Chad would be proud of me. I was not concerned with Jennifer's perception, however. She had an anything-goes / whatever-it-takes attitude that put me at ease.
I felt no urge to push even though it was time to do so. This confused me because every birth story I'd heard / read told of a definite desire to push and a great relief when pushing commenced. Something held me back though. I think it was fear. Each time I'd think about the baby coming out of my body, I felt scared. It seemed so violent. Therefore, I remained beside the bed, rocking back and forth, not pushing. My body was ready, but my mind was not.
After laboring in bed for awhile, I decided to try to bathtub. The hot water felt like heaven. I was immediately able to cope more efficiently. With each contraction I'd close my eyes, drop my head down to my chest, inhale through my nose, exhale through my open, loose lips, and completely fade away. The water decreased my pain by about 50%. I was happy. I felt on top of things. Teresa and Jennifer did many little things to make my surroundings comfortable. They rolled towels for my neck and head. They unscrewed all but one of the light bulbs in the bathroom, creating a dimly lit room. They spoke in hushed tones. I barely noticed these things, but looking back, I know they helped a lot.
Chad sat on the toilet seat the whole time I was in the tub. He timed my contractions, talked to me, read Psalm 19 (my favorite), prayed a little, and listened to me. Between contractions I felt fine. Every 30 minutes I would get out of the tub to pee. This was important to Jennifer. I tried my best to cooperate. Going to the toilet meant extra contractions in an unfamiliar place and position. A contraction would end and I'd practically jump out of the tub in order to avoid moving during the pain. I was surprised at my agility and strength. Those contractions are big motivators! I'd sit backward on the toilet, my arms crossed and resting on the tank lid, and my head laying on my arms.
Time passed very quickly. Each time I inquired, at least an entire hour had passed. As the hours clicked by, the intensity increased. I was not able to stay still during contractions. I began having irrational thoughts. I felt scared of the baby. I wondered if I wanted a baby at all. I felt trapped by the inevitability of the second stage of labor. At the same time, I wanted progress because I wanted it to be over. I started wondering how anyone chooses to have more than one baby. Then I thought about people who choose to have an epidural and I felt humbled. I decided I would never be judgmental of anyone for choosing pain relief again. For the first time the validity of their choices sunk in with full force. I never thought about drugs for myself. Maybe that is because there were no drugs available since we were at home. I don't know what my thought process would have been in a hospital. It was a non-issue at home though.
As things progressed I became restless, nervous and afraid. I was scared. I threw up while sitting on the toilet. Chad held a bowl for me while Teresa and Jennifer encouraged me; it meant progress. It was about 8:30 (about 7 hours after labor started) and I was in transition. After this my body switched gears. It felt like a race car, taking off as fast as possible. I was out of breath and hot. We all heard a popping sound. It was my water breaking, under water. Jennifer checked for discoloration, and found none, meaning there was no meconium in the amniotic fluid. This brought me relief because I knew the baby was okay.
With each contraction, my legs writhed back and forth, side to side. I could not relax or stay still. Chad tried to talk me through it all, but it didn't help. The water was claustrophobic and I needed to find a new place to be. I got out of the tub and sat on the toilet.
[During the birthing classes we were taught that with second stage, women loose their sense of modesty. I thought, "Nope. Not me. I won't." Wrong! I was naked as a jay bird and didn't even think about it. Later Chad said it was a little weird for him at first. He got over it quickly; especially after he thought about how many times Jennifer and Teresa attended labors. This was normal stuff for them.]
At this point the contractions became ultra intense. I made low guttural sounds with each exhale. During these sounds I'd rest my chin low on my chest. The sounds were like a humming or a low roar. I had not planned to make noise like this during my birth. I had read of others doing so, but it seemed weird to me. Once the time came, weirdness did not matter. The sounds helped me cope with the intensity, and that was all that mattered. At the beginning of my noise-making I looked at Chad and said, "Don't be scared." I didn't know how he'd respond. He encouraged me to do whatever in order to keep my bearings. Teresa reminding me to keep the sounds low, as to not strain my vocal cords. She would do it with me and I'd mimic her.
Soon we moved back to the bed. I stood next to it, leaning over the side. Chad sat on the bed, holding my hands with his head close to mine. I panicked at first because I didn't know how to cope with the pain in this new position. Everyone told me I was doing a great job. Teresa reminding me to breath. I tried, but felt unsuccessful. My legs and hips refused to relax; the pain in my inner thighs was the worst.
Jennifer checked me internally at this point. She was gentle, but it caused a horrific contraction anyway. I was dilated to 9.5 centimeters. Only a lip of the cervix remained. She described it as goo or melted butter. This meant I could start pushing and the baby would move down without swelling the cervix. I had a hard time comprehending these things in the midst of all the pain. The contractions were right on top of each other, only leaving 15 seconds breaks for rest. Each one felt like a semi truck barreling through my body. Relaxing was impossible. I stood by the bed, and rocked back and forth. I felt trapped and out of control. On the outside I was calm and relatively relaxed. Looking back I think I was trying really hard to preform for the others. I had had no idea performance anxiety would be part of my labor, but I wanted to do everything the right way so that Teresa and Chad would be proud of me. I was not concerned with Jennifer's perception, however. She had an anything-goes / whatever-it-takes attitude that put me at ease.
I felt no urge to push even though it was time to do so. This confused me because every birth story I'd heard / read told of a definite desire to push and a great relief when pushing commenced. Something held me back though. I think it was fear. Each time I'd think about the baby coming out of my body, I felt scared. It seemed so violent. Therefore, I remained beside the bed, rocking back and forth, not pushing. My body was ready, but my mind was not.
2/10/2006
melody's birth story, part 4
I arrived home at 3:00. I had contacted Chad earlier in the day, informing him of my progress. He was already home when I got there. Seeing him in the kitchen was wonderful. It was at this point that my calmness and relaxation evaporated. His first words to me were, “Do you want to go for a walk?” He remembered that walking could speed up labor in the early stages. He didn’t realize how far along I already was. In reply to his question, I leaned onto the kitchen counter, lowered my head, and moaned with another contraction.
Our house was not ready for the birth. Our bedroom was a huge mess. Liz shifted into helper mode and asked me what needed to be done. I slumped on top of a huge pile of clothes on our bedroom loveseat and directed Chad and Liz between contractions. “Take the sheets off the bed…. put the plastic on the mattress… put the sheets back on.” They worked fast. Soon the pile of clothes was in a heap on our closet floor and the birth kit was accessible in the bathroom.
At this point Liz left the room and I don’t recall anything else about her that day. I didn’t know it, but she stayed for two or three more hours doing baby laundry, cleaning the kitchen, and even putting the baby’s mobile together.
I got into bed. Chad stood beside me and said, “We’re going to have a baby today.” It was at that moment that my denial stopped and I realized I was really in labor. I began crying. I was scared and excited.
My goal was to imitate sleep during each contraction. I would assume the most comfortable position possible, fully relax my entire body, close my eyes, and take slow deep abdominal breaths with my mouth slightly open. The idea was to let the contractions do their thing, to accept them and not fight the pain. It is an odd concept. It was as if I was welcoming the pain inside of me. Breathing abdominally during a contraction meant breathing into the pain. This was something I’d never done before. If I stubbed my toe, I’d hold my breath, tense up, and wait for the pain to subside. With the contractions, I did the exact opposite. I let them come and go in a completely relaxed state. At least that was my goal.
Being in bed was horrible. I could not get comfortable between each contraction, so I had a hard time relaxing during them. Chad attempted to help me, but it was no use. My legs writhed with each rush of pain.
At some point Chad was on the phone with Jennifer, the midwife. He handed me the phone. Jennifer’s voice was calm, “Hi Rebekah. How are you feeling? I want to hear you through a contraction. Just hold the phone and I’ll listen.”
Shortly after the phone call, Jennifer arrived. I remember her touching my side and leaning over the bed to say hello. I turned to greet her. She looked beautiful to me. She wore a light smoky blue colored shirt – one of my favorite colors. I was happy to see her. She took my vitals and listened to the baby’s heartbeat with a Doppler. The metal was cold and hard on my belly. All the numbers were perfect.
Soon Teresa arrived. She was beautiful to me also. She wore a chunky cream sweater; her eyes sparkled and her lips were shimmery with pink lip-gloss.
I chose for Jennifer not to check my cervix. I knew I was in labor and I felt like it was progressing quickly. I knew a cervix check would be painful. Most of all I didn’t want a number to disappoint me or to give me false hope. I preferred not knowing how dilated I was. Instead I focused on each contraction and did my best to cope with the pain.
Our house was not ready for the birth. Our bedroom was a huge mess. Liz shifted into helper mode and asked me what needed to be done. I slumped on top of a huge pile of clothes on our bedroom loveseat and directed Chad and Liz between contractions. “Take the sheets off the bed…. put the plastic on the mattress… put the sheets back on.” They worked fast. Soon the pile of clothes was in a heap on our closet floor and the birth kit was accessible in the bathroom.
At this point Liz left the room and I don’t recall anything else about her that day. I didn’t know it, but she stayed for two or three more hours doing baby laundry, cleaning the kitchen, and even putting the baby’s mobile together.
I got into bed. Chad stood beside me and said, “We’re going to have a baby today.” It was at that moment that my denial stopped and I realized I was really in labor. I began crying. I was scared and excited.
My goal was to imitate sleep during each contraction. I would assume the most comfortable position possible, fully relax my entire body, close my eyes, and take slow deep abdominal breaths with my mouth slightly open. The idea was to let the contractions do their thing, to accept them and not fight the pain. It is an odd concept. It was as if I was welcoming the pain inside of me. Breathing abdominally during a contraction meant breathing into the pain. This was something I’d never done before. If I stubbed my toe, I’d hold my breath, tense up, and wait for the pain to subside. With the contractions, I did the exact opposite. I let them come and go in a completely relaxed state. At least that was my goal.
Being in bed was horrible. I could not get comfortable between each contraction, so I had a hard time relaxing during them. Chad attempted to help me, but it was no use. My legs writhed with each rush of pain.
At some point Chad was on the phone with Jennifer, the midwife. He handed me the phone. Jennifer’s voice was calm, “Hi Rebekah. How are you feeling? I want to hear you through a contraction. Just hold the phone and I’ll listen.”
Shortly after the phone call, Jennifer arrived. I remember her touching my side and leaning over the bed to say hello. I turned to greet her. She looked beautiful to me. She wore a light smoky blue colored shirt – one of my favorite colors. I was happy to see her. She took my vitals and listened to the baby’s heartbeat with a Doppler. The metal was cold and hard on my belly. All the numbers were perfect.
Soon Teresa arrived. She was beautiful to me also. She wore a chunky cream sweater; her eyes sparkled and her lips were shimmery with pink lip-gloss.
I chose for Jennifer not to check my cervix. I knew I was in labor and I felt like it was progressing quickly. I knew a cervix check would be painful. Most of all I didn’t want a number to disappoint me or to give me false hope. I preferred not knowing how dilated I was. Instead I focused on each contraction and did my best to cope with the pain.
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