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My favorite day of the week? The days Andrew is off of work. Being together as a family is honestly the best part of my week...the best part of my day. Even if things are chaotic, the kids are crabby and we don't get the chance to say a whole lot to each other--just being together makes me happy. :)

Andrew starts his work week on Tuesdays, so while others may have been cursing that today is Monday, I was enjoying one of my most favorite days of the week...with my most favorite people. 

Being Beautiful

My daughter...will you grow up knowing what it means to be beautiful?

Today as I was getting ready to leave the house to run some errands I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and put my make-up on. I smiled when Vienna stepped up on her stool and started rummaging through my make-up bag, pretending to put things on her cheeks and eyes, just like mommy does.

I put my boots on, then helped Vienna with hers. I smiled as Vienna copied me as I adjusted my leggings inside my boot.

I remembered that I forgot to put my necklace on that I had intended to wear so I moved into the bathroom to get it. I smiled as Vienna followed.

I selected the necklace and hung it around my neck, then smiled when Vienna sweetly asked "me too?"

I took one of my necklaces and fastened it behind her neck. I smiled as she looked down at the little teal pendant resting against her chest.

I watched as she moved out of the bathroom, stood in front of the full-length mirror and admired the reflection she saw...herself--in her cute outfit, fixed hair, boots and necklace...

and I stopped smiling.

What is my daughter learning from me? Is she learning that being beautiful is looking polished and fashionable? Is she learning that being beautiful requires nice things to put on ourselves?

She learns so much by observing me, what exactly am I showing her is important?

As I watched her I was reminded of this verse: "Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight." 1 Peter 3:3-4

It should have been no surprise to me that that verse popped into my head today as I watched my daughter admire her reflection in the mirror. It has been lingering there for quite some time as I look at the value of my own life. Am I concerned with my inner beauty as much as I am about my outer beauty? There is nothing wrong with wearing cute clothes, and wanting to look nice, or doing my hair and putting on make-up...but what about who I am on the inside? Am I letting that go neglect? And I forgetting that my soul is of great worth? Am I forgetting who made me beautiful in the first place and dwelling more on things that hold no value?

Beauty is such a delicate topic for women. I feel like most women grow up thinking: "If only I could look like that..." Even those that might think they look beautiful have some kind of insecurity about the way they are perceived. Why? Because women are the ultimate display of beauty.

God created the universe in 6 days...and each creation was grander than the previous. On day 5 he created birds...I love birds, they are so pretty and graceful. But even I can't deny the greater beauty of horse, which he created on day 6, over that of a bird. Women were the last thing he created.

Women are meant to be beautiful. Women are beautiful. And I think that is why women's beauty is so attacked and targeted, leaving every  single one of us feeling like we can always look better, because there is something that can be so exceptionally special about the beauty of a woman on the inside that we lose ourselves too much on the beauty of ourselves on the outside.

A big part of how Vienna is going to learn to be beautiful is from me. And that's terrifying. I want her to know that she will look beautiful regardless of what she wears. I want her to know that being beautiful isn't about adorning ourselves with all those fun things--like clothes and make-up and accessories--but it's about who she is on the inside. I want to show her to embrace her inner beauty...because she was created to be beautiful.

Being beautiful is in her heart and in her soul. It is in her spirit and in her love. Being beautiful is inside of all of us.

Flying Rocks and The Moon

Vienna is obsessed with the moon. Seriously. She talks about it at least five times a day. At lunch. When we go outside. In the car...

She saw the moon the other night while we were driving and got extremely excited about it. When it got out of her view she asked where it had gone and we told her it was hiding behind the trees. In which, we've had several conversations since then where she informs me that the moon hides behind the trees.

Then today I had an interesting little conversation with her while we were playing outside, it went something like this:


V: "Moon, dark?"

Me: "Yes, the moon comes out when its dark."

V: "Why?"

Me: "Because it glows in the dark, so it has to be dark outside to see it."

V: "Up high."

Me: "MmmHmm."

V: "Big tree, up high." (pointing to a tree in our yard.)

Me: "Is that tree so big?" (trying to avoid more 'moon' questions.)

V: "Uh-huh." (Pauses, squats down and intently studies the tree.) "Mommy. Fly?"

Me: (confused) "You want to fly?"

V: "Uh-huh. Fly. Big tree, up high."

She trots over to a pile of rocks she had been collecting and grabs two of the larger ones and hands one to me.

V: "Mommy. Rock, back." (As she holds the rock behind her back...instructing me to do the same.)

I obliged.

V: (with the rock still behind her back she studies the tree again and squats once more.) "Rock, back. Fly tree high....aaaaand JUMP!" (As she jumped with all of her might.) "FLY!!"

I can't help but wonder if she thought she found a magical rock that was going to make her fly up high to the trees so she could see the moon...

Haha--gotta love toddler conversations and imagination. :)

Coffee...Pancakes...and a loose Sphincter

I pour myself a cup of coffee and take a sip, as I savor the warm liquid while it runs down my throat I think, "Ahh, there's nothing quite like this." A moment to myself. I take my cup to the table and sit down to enjoy a mid-morning pancake snack when I hear the baby stir through the monitor. I shove half a pancake in my mouth, hoping the baby will fall back asleep. He starts to cry.

I look at the clock, he's only been asleep for 30 minutes.

Its a new day, I got a decent amount of sleep the night before for a mom with a nine-week-old, my attitude is fresh, my energy is high...and with my savory cup of coffee in hand I can't help but look on the bright side of things. I rush into the room where my sweet baby is laying and attempt to soothe him back to sleep, anxious to get back to my coffee cup.

I succeed after a few minutes. Yes! And I sit down again to satisfy my growling stomach.

The pancake is halfway to my mouth when the baby cries again. Sigh. I go back to my stirring babe.

It takes longer to get him back to sleep, but I do. My luke-warm coffee is calling my name but this time I don't even get out of the room before he wakes up again.

So, I get him back to sleep...again.

And again...

...and again.

And I realize just how quickly I went from being hopeful and optimistic to feeling frustrated and exhausted.

This is my morning....that lasts all day long.

Two Three words: acid reflux, sucks.

It appears to be hitting a peak, which I've read is common around this age. Sigh. There is nothing quite like being thrown up on 15+ times a day--I can only imagine how terrible it is for him...

I try to remember that, his discomfort, when he's waking up constantly. Or when he squirms, fidgets and pulls away in the midst of nursing. Or at 3am when I get up for the third time that night and he throws up down my shirt and in my hair....

But it's hard.

Its hard to go from being so in love with the cute little boy that smiles and coos, to feeling frustrated and irritated that he won't stay asleep. It's hard to remember it isn't his fault when it's 6am and you maybe got a total of 3 hours of sleep since 11pm the night before. Or when you've put him back to sleep five times in an hour-and-a-half. It's hard to go from feeling hopeful for a solid nap to realizing that today was worse than yesterday. It's hard to feel like you couldn't possibly be any happier in life, then go to feeling like you can't possibly take another day of craziness. It's an emotional ride...to say the least...

No wonder I look like I stuck my finger in a light socket by the time my husband gets home.

It's such a shame because if my sweet boy didn't have an acid reflux problem he would be the easiest baby. He is so incredibly happy and content when his stomach isn't bugging him. He's full of smiles and coos and he especially loves to listen to his sister and his daddy talk to him. He rarely cries, even when he is uncomfortable. He puts himself to sleep (at the beginning of nap hour), and loves to be snuggled.

It's hard, and I crawl into bed at night entirely exhausted and wonder how will I do it all over again tomorrow? But somehow God gives me a new strength and energy every morning because I wake up and think that there simply cannot be any two better children in this whole world than my own.

And I find myself loving them even more than I did the day before. And I find myself excited and privileged to be their mom. And I find myself learning things about myself and about my children and I realize how exciting it is to grow as a family as well as improve as an individual. 

So, we will get through this. We'll take it day by day...I'll continue to remind myself to be present in each moment and to stop dwelling on the time or things that got lost or neglected. 

...Because a cup of coffee tastes great whether it's hot or cold...so why the heck should I care if I get to drink it right away or a little while later? 

"B"

I think "B" deserves his own post. I mean, he's been part of our lives for two-and-a-half years. He's seen us through sleepless nights, teething, pacifier weaning, sickness, potty training, car rides...you name it. He's Vienna's trusty blankie. 

She has been attached to him from the beginning. She cuddled with him when she as newborn, she loved the soft material against her face while she slept. Ever since then B has gone wherever Vienna has gone. She chewed on him while she teethed. She snuggled him every night, every nap time--its pretty much impossible for her to fall asleep without her B....

 

So after two-and-a-half years of that kind of toddler love...B is starting to look a little...worn:

And this is a good picture of him. If you could only smell him. And feel him. Lets just say....B doesn't have a lot of life left him. He's been through countless potty accidents. A vaseline mess. Sick nights. Dirty cars...you name it. 

This made me super sad. I know Vienna isn't even close to detaching from her B. But I shudder at the thought of snuggling him for another couple years...I mean, seriously, when you cuddle with your sweet girl and then she throws a nasty, stinky blankie next to your face so she can lean against you...it kind of ruins the moment. 

I can only imagine how many germs are wedged in all the little crevices and fibers of that thing.

I've done it before, with no luck, but I decided to see if there was any way I could find another one. The blanket is discontinued and when I looked awhile back the only duplicate I could find was on amazon for $60. Yeah, exactly...No way. It might be a special blankie...and it might be that gross, but $60 is just a little ridiculous. However, this time when I looked I happened to find one on ebay for a little less than half that price. To me it was still a lot of money for a blanket...especially since I had no idea if my plan would even work. But I went out on a limb and ordered it.

Vienna kept pointing out the rips and tears in her B and I kept telling her I was going to fix it. Hoping that perhaps this could play in my advantage when the new one arrived and especially since she seemed to be extremely concerned about the state of her B. 

When the new B came in the mail I instantly knew there was no way Vienna was going to swap her old one for this one. It smelt funny new, it was stiff, and bright. I had no clue how I was going to replace the old one for the new one...I knew reasoning with a toddler wasn't going to work, especially when Vienna has a meltdown every time B needs to have a "bath." So the new blanket sat in my laundry room for several days while I debated whether or not to return it. Finally I decided to throw it in with pretty much every load of laundry I did to try and "wear it in." Since Vienna constantly holds her B to her face and smells it...I knew I had to do something about that new stench. So I thought it would be a good idea to sneak the new blankie in bed with her at night after she fell asleep--when Finley got up to eat in the early morning hours I'd simply go back in and take him out...hoping that in doing so the new blanket would start to pick up that familiar smell. 

A good idea, right? I thought so. Except, three days after I started doing that I totally forgot to take him out when Finely got up to eat in the morning. I thought about it around 6am...and knew there was no way I could sneak him out without waking her up. This was going to be interesting...Vienna was going to discover she had two B's...how was I going to explain that one?

Like every morning, Vienna came stumbling into my room and came to my side of the bed. Like always, she was clutching her B, ready to crawl into bed with me and snuggle for a few short minutes before she would ask me to "be all done" (i.e. get up.) I was shocked when I saw that the blanket she was clutching was the new one! She didn't say a word about it and crawled into bed. 

No way. It was that simple?

Apparently. Before she had a chance to notice I snuck into her room and found the old B buried in her bedding. I think he got lost in the mess and when she got up she didn't even notice that there were two. 

The switch was made, by accident! Perhaps Vienna thinks that Mommy finally fixed her B. ???

Oddly enough when I found the old B lying, discarded in the bed, I was sad. Even though he stunk, looked bad, and totally grossed me out...I thought about all those moments that made him like that and I simply could no throw him away. Instead, I stuck him in a basket on a shelf and decided that I would have to make a decision about what to do with him later. That was a week ago...and I still cannot bring myself to toss him--even if Vienna is totally happy and in love with her new B. 

Silly, I know...I guess I'm just sentimental. 

I do have to say, however, that I am entirely glad to have a renewed life in B. He's still the same old B that goes everywhere with V...here's to a couple more years of life fluffy guy!

A Weekend Away

This past weekend Andy and I were able to get away for a bit of alone time. Well..."alone" meaning, us and Finley. :) We had a wedding reception to go to in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, and my mother-in-law offered for Vienna to come stay at her house for a day or so and then they would meet us in Wisconsin. So Andy and I took off a day early to get away from life at home and to spend some time alone.

Classic "start of the trip" photo shot

 Checking out the Leinenkugel brewery

Daddy and Finley at the sampling bar

 Leisure walk at Irvine park

One last attempt at a couple shot

Firstly...it is always so much fun to get away with my husband. We love our kids, but there is something priceless about being able to carry on a conversation without being interrupted several times. It's so important for a married couple to not get lost in the chaos of children...which is so easy to do. To stay connected and be able to invest in each other. 

Secondly...it is amazing how your perspective changes after adding another child to your family. It felt so much easier just having Finely to take care of then it felt when we just had Vienna as a baby. Its the simple fact of adjustment. Going from 0 to 1 child was an adjustment, 1 to 2 is an adjustment as well. So going from 2 to 1 for 48 hours made us feel like it was really "easy" to just have one kid. 

But man...I sure did miss this little girl.

So happy to be back together again.

(V's expression cracks me up in the picture!)

It was a fun time. :) For Us. For Vienna. For Grandma too (I think) ;) 

And for Finley as well, I'm sure he loved the extra attention.

And after a long drive we were all too happy to relax and be home...

 

Little Artist

Vienna's recent obsession...

Coloring. To the extreme.

Granted--she's always loved to color, but lately it is ALL she wants to do. Its the first thing she does when she wakes up in the morning...before she goes to bed...and all the time in-between. She pulls out her box of markers and crayons, helps herself to a paper or a coloring page...and colors away. 

She absolutely loves it. I wouldn't doubt she dreams about coloring...

I don't mind at all. Not only does it keep her occupied, but it is just so fun to watch her do something that she loves. She calls them: "my picture," which is so stinkin cute to hear her say. She's so proud of her drawings. She shows every one of them to us, often holding it up saying, "Ta-da!" 

Often times she'll show me her picture as it progresses and go back to the table to add more to it. When she's finished she likes to hang them on the fridge...

Or on the wall in our bedroom.

It is super fun to watch how her coloring style progresses and what she decides to do each time. Sometimes her pictures have consistent patterns, other times they're totally random. It breaks my heart to throw a single drawing away.

She goes through probably at least 15 pieces of paper a day...no lie. And there is constantly random drawings strewn across the floor at all hours of the day. We ran out of paper yesterday and she was so sad about it all day long. I told her Daddy was bringing some home from work and the minute he walked through the door she asked him for the paper. 

My little artist...just a little obsessed. :)

Finley's Birth Story

I had a feeling that the baby was going to come a little early. I kept telling myself not to get my hopes set on it...but I just knew that he was going to come before his due date.

Finley was born a week early.

We were planning a home water birth...everything was ready, I was excited. I was feeling good and entirely anxious to meet my little boy. A good week or more before he was born I started having contractions every single night around 6pm and lasting until 9-10pm. Sometimes they were 5-10 minutes apart, but mostly they were sporadic. They were definitely laboring type contractions but they didn't really hurt--they mostly just felt super crampy. It was frustrating to constantly think I was going into labor, but on the other hand it was nice to make progress without actually being in labor. On Tuesday, the 12th, I started having contractions around 2pm on my way home from my sister-in-laws house, which was different because I never really had any during the day. They were coming frequently but besides their onset being a bit harder they were exactly the same type of contractions I'd been experiencing every other night. I took a nap thinking that they'd stop. They didn't. And at 6pm I started timing them and noticed they were aprox. 10 mins apart. I had a feeling this was it, but there was something inside of me that kept doubting it because...well, labor was suppose to be more uncomfortable than what I was feeling.

At my last checkup (the day before) my cervix was 5cm dilated and 80% effaced. The baby's head was sitting at station +2. He was ready to come out!

I was ready for him to come out. :)

My midwife lives an hour away. And my doula lives 2 hours away. But before I notified either of them I wanted to be sure this was the real thing, so I tested it. I went for a walk, and the contractions kept up their steady pattern. Good sign. I hopped in the shower, and the contractions never slowed. Another good sign. The other days when I thought I was in labor doing either of these two things would cause them to slow or stop. Not that day. This was it. I just knew it. So around 8pm I called Teri, my doula, who also has been one of my closet friends for the past 15 years. I told her what was going on and she decided to come right away. I also texted (yes, texted) my midwife and gave her a heads up that things were starting and that I'd call when things picked up a bit.

So I waited. My heart was pumping. This was happening!

Andy and I prepped our room for birth; we were excited that it was finally happening but knew that the night ahead could be long so after we got everything set up we tried to rest a bit, and waited. The contractions were extremely easy to manage...but they were entirely weird. At this point they were aprox. 5 minutes apart--but every other one was so light and mild that I actually had to feel my stomach to make sure I was having one. Because of the lack of that distinct labor pain it was easy to just disregard the crampy/pressure feeling I was having which made it difficult for me to time as I walked and moved around the house. The stronger contractions lasted longer and I'd pause to lean forward through them--not out of necessity but because I knew my cervix was back behind the baby's head and that it needed to come forward. I was expecting things to pick up quickly, I was expecting things to get more intense...but they didn't. At all. So I waited. And I felt confused--I knew this was it, yet it just didn't really feel like labor to me.

("in labor")

My midwife called me at about 10:30pm and I explained to her everything that was going on. She decided to come right away and see what was happening. Since I was progressed so far at my appointment the day before she didn't want to just send me to bed and take the chance that I'd suddenly wake up because my water broke and be ready to push...and she was still an hour away. You never know with labor--things can happen quickly. Or they might not. And since my labor was being so casual it was impossible to predict where I was.

Teri got to our house around 11pm. It was kind of funny because she expected me to be in hard labor when she got there...I had expected that too--yet things hadn't really changed. Just crampy contractions that kept doing their own thing. It was hard to tell exactly what their pace was because their power was so inconsistent (like I mentioned before) so if I wasn't paying attention I'd have one and not note the time. But from what I could tell I was having powerful ones every 10mins, and 1-2 extremely mild ones in-between. It was hard to tell if it was 1 or 2 because they lasted awhile and there wasn't much of a lull in-between them. So it was either one long one that almost double-peaked (if that's possible) or two shorter ones, back to back. So you can tell how hard of a time I had saying my contractions were ___mins apart because they were more like this: contraction...3 mins later--contraction...2 mins later--contraction....5 minutes later--contraction... etc.

Andy and I went for a walk to see if anything would change. It was kind of a fun moment for us as we walked down the road in the pitch black, looking at the stars, marveling at the fact that we were going to be meeting our son soon. But unfortunately the walk didn't change anything, I still just kept contracting the same... And I felt twitchy for some reason, like my muscles couldn't relax. I just kept shaking my arms because I didn't like the feeling in them. It was like a surge of this weird feeling would come over me in-between contractions--I literally can't describe it, it was so bizarre. This made me wonder if I was in transition or something--even though I knew I wasn't. The end of labor was suppose to hurt a lot more than this. In fact, labor was suppose to hurt more than this...it just all threw me for a loop. I never actually thought I'd wish for labor pains, but at that point I just wanted to feel something that told me "yes! this is hard labor...this is happening...lets get this party started."

(waiting...)
By the time Ruth and Sonya (midwives) got to our house, about 12:30am on the Wednesday the 13th, nothing still had changed.  Except my frustration. She checked me and my cervix had progressed to 6cm, only slightly more effaced, maybe 85%, and had come up around the baby's head quite a bit. Obviously the contractions were doing something, just really slowly. I was in labor....yet...I wasn't--if that makes any sense at all. We went over my options... 1. Since I was so far progressed I could have my water broke to speed things up. Or, 2. We could all go to bed for a couple hours and see what happened.

I chose option 2. I really didn't want to have my water broke and laying down for a couple of hours sounded really nice. I was tired and frustrated, and feeling like I didn't want to take the risk at that time. They gave me a homeopathic remedy to help me sleep and I went to bed. I was pretty well relaxed for a couple hours, though I actually never really slept solid. I dozed off for a few minutes here and there but I just couldn't sleep. It was mostly the activity of everything that had been going on that kept me awake. Plus I was still having contractions--though in a different circumstance I probably would have been able to sleep through them, I just couldn't. The shakiness I kept feeling was irritating...it kept making my legs twitch which made it impossible to doze off completely. Finally I had enough of lying down--I noticed at this point how tense I was. I wasn't ready to have my water broke yet and I decided that I needed just a ltitle bit of time to calm myself and concentrate on relaxing--maybe I'd get lucky and things would pick up. I put my headphones in with a birth hypnosis recording that I had practiced relaxing to during pregnancy--mainly to help me sleep. I moved into the nursery and sat in the big comfy rocking chair, propped myself up with pillows and listened to the recording. I became very relaxed and just let my body do what it was doing...and to stop trying to figure it out. Interestingly when I did this I became very in-tune with what was going on in my body, and noted that those twitchy surges I was experiencing was a rush of hormones that coursed through me before each contraction hit. I was able to completely relax--mentally, physically and emotionally...and I labored there for quite awhile somewhere in-between the state of being awake and being asleep.

Everyone woke up around 6:30am. I was still in my chair. I felt bad that my labor was being so pokey and that they had to sleep on couches...so I was thankful that very one said they slept good. I gave everyone an update--which wasn't really an update at all because nothing had changed. Ruth checked me and my cervix was now at 7cm, pretty much entirely thinned out and had completely come all the way up over the baby's head. This was good progress--now all I had to do was finish opening up. It was just taking so long. I can't complain that my body was progressing with not much effort on my part--except for the fact that it was making me sleep deprived and as a result had zero energy. It'd been well over 12hrs of this...how much longer was it going to be? We went over my options. I knew that I had no way to predict how things were going to go. With the latent path my labor was taking I could very well labor like that for another whole day for all I knew...without sleep. Since I couldn't rest and since I was so far progressed the choice was obvious. I felt confident and peaceful about the decision now...it was time to break my water.

But, first I ate breakfast. Haha! :) Actually, we all did. Andy made eggs for everyone quick and I knew I needed to charge my body with nutrition to give me energy for what was coming. I was so hungry, I scarfed down breakfast by myself in my room, trying to wrap my head around what was about to happen.

(getting things started)

Ruth broke my water at about 8:00am. She told me to walk around to help get things going. By the time I moved from my bed where they broke my water to the front door I had a contraction. It hurt! (Yes...you're not seeing things...that is an exclamation point.) It didn't hurt that badly, but it had that distinct labor pain and in all honesty it just felt good to actually feel something that actually felt like labor--it made it real. Andy and I walked in a loop up and down our driveway. It was quite chilly outside, but it felt really good and totally energized me. As we walked we talked, he had his arm around me the whole time and the contractions picked up in no time. It didn't take long before I had to stop and lean against him through each of them. I moved inside and labored on a birthing ball for what felt like a really long time...it was only 20 mins. Even though my contractions were steadily coming every 3-5 minutes or so (I'm not really sure, I wasn't timing them) I felt like they were more effective when I had been walking, so Andy and I went back outside and walked some more. They built quickly and by the end of our second walk instead of just leaning into him through the contraction I would hang on him and move my hips side to side to help relieve some of the discomfort.

I didn't keep track of time at all. I just focused on what I needed to do to get myself through labor. I hadn't really decided whether or not I was going to listen to the hypnosis birthing recording that I had downloaded but I popped the headphones back in my ears and turned up the recording loudly so that was all I could hear, and labored. Surprisingly the recording was extremely helpful and I was able to sink further and further into a relaxed state. I took one contraction at a time and instead of tensing up at their onset I relaxed further and focused on my breathing. They hurt, but they were quite manageable and I found that changing positions was extremely helpful. I liked to be on my knees a lot, leaning against Andy as he sat on the bed and swaying my hips back and forth. Squatting was also quite helpful, they both relieved a lot of the discomfort. I kept having the urge to get in the tub, but I wanted to "save" it because I knew things were going to get more intense and hopefully the water would be a bigger source of ease to my body. So I kept waiting, thinking that I could still handle the contractions where I was for now...

(hard labor)

(breathing through contractions)

(yes, those are fish on the side of my birth tub...)

The baby wasn't posterior or anything, but I was feeling a lot of the contractions in my lower back. And when the pain got really sharp I finally decided that I'd like to be in the tub. It was heaven! The warm water felt so good and soothed my body. It relieved some of the discomfort, soothed my back, and aided in staying relaxed.

Like they do, the contractions kept building, they built gradually but they were extremely hard and I knew that I was in transition. It started getting harder to stay relaxed. I cannot even describe how much the recording in my ears helped me. Half the time it was just there--playing; the other half of the time I was listening to it intently. There were key words that really helped me to relax when it was most hardest to--sayings like: "surrender," "opening up," "your body is doing exactly what it needs to do to birth your baby." Cheesy? Maybe. But I don't really care...it was so helpful that I managed to get through most of transition staying limp and relaxed and letting my body work freely to do what it needed to do.

(in transition)

In transition my body started twitching, uncontrollably. A strong contraction would hit and it would stop, but as soon as it was over I started shaking again. It would start slowly and then build and build as my limbs spasmed in the water. I got really irritated with it. It made it really hard to remain relaxed because I couldn't keep my body still and there was a feeling of restlessness coursing through me. Mentally I knew I was in transition, I'd read that a lot of women can experience shaking (among other things) during transition, but since I didn't experience anything like that in my previous labor, I was totally caught off guard. If I could describe the feeling, it was like experiencing that restless leg syndrome...except x100 and all over.  I was so aware of everything. Which, again, was entirely different than transition with Vienna--I was pretty much in a state of delusion with her that I almost felt drunk. With this labor I was entirely alert, and extremely emotional...I felt overwhelming surges of hormones come over my body that I literally almost let out loud sobs as it peaked out of sheer emotion. I held it in, I was afraid if I let the noise escape I would lose it entirely. I managed to stay calm and relaxed through most of it, though it took extreme concentration and mind power to do so. Things were getting extremely uncomfortable and I was starting to let my brain go down the path of the fact that I just really, really, really wanted to be done. I wanted a break. It was hard work to stay relaxed and I was tired. I wanted to sleep. I wanted it to be over. The ear buds fell out as I moved positions and I didn't bother putting them back in. This was it--this was the end--I started feeling that pushing/pressure sensation and it was hard to find relief during the contractions. At the tail end of transition there I didn't have much control out of the noise that came out of my mouth. I had remained mostly silent throughout labor, but as my body was finishing opening up I couldn't help but moan and groan through those contractions. The very end of dilation was hard...the pain, my mental state, my exhaustion. I had to pee...I knew I was almost ready to push but I had this overwhelming urge to relieve myself. Or maybe I just really wanted to change positions...I'm not sure. But Andy helped me out of the tub and I moved to the bathroom. On the way back I had a contraction and was suddenly hit with overwhelming urge to push. In fact, I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't tried so hard not to push I probably could have had the baby right there on my bedroom floor. Instead, I fought it and just hung from Andy's arms as he entirely supported my weight from behind and I made lovely labor noises--waiting for the contraction to end. I hurried back in the tub and knew it was time for business--I just really wanted to be done though. If a person could quit labor, I would've up and quit right there. The midwife checked me to make sure I was fully dilated and that there was no lip of the cervix left around the baby's head. There wasn't. It was time for me to push my baby out.

(the end of transition)

(time to push...)

Pushing was, by far, the hardest part for me. For some women its the easiest. But for me, in both my labors, I hated pushing. I don't know what it is about the sensation that terrifies me, but instinctively I think I try not to push--it's just so unnatural. Of course, it actually feels better to push, but it took me long enough to fully realize that...again. I was reclining in the tub at first and it didn't take me long to decide that there was no way that position was going to work for me. It was extremely uncomfortable so I moved to my knees. It was a mental battle at this point, I really just wanted to be done with labor but obviously I wasn't--I wanted to give up. I basically had a mental prep talk with myself and told myself to get it together...I could either fight it and let it drag out because I didn't want to do it, or I could work with my body and end it. It was at that time that I remembered pushing with Vienna for an hour and half and I decided that right then and there I was NOT going to push for that long again. I was getting this baby out...NOW.

(I'm surprised Andy's shirt never ripped.)

Andy was outside of the tub and I was kneeling holding onto his shoulders when I decided to try squatting. It was the preferred position and when each contraction hit I moved into a squat and pushed. The feeling was so intense and so hard and all I could do was try my hardest to use each contraction to its full potential. I pulled on Andy's shirt as I pushed and he held me. Giving me strength, and reminding me to slow my breathing and relax in-between the contractions. When I finally worked with my body instead of against it, it didn't take long to get the baby out. With one contraction specifically I felt the baby move significantly and begin to crown. The sensation was extremely encouraging as I realized much progress I just made with one push and suddenly I got really excited. Instinctively, I reached down to feel his head and realized that he was almost out--I was almost done! I kept my hand on his head--honestly I was thinking that I would keep my hand there so that he didn't go back in--he was coming out now if I had anything to do with it and I was going to keep my hand there to make sure it happened! Haha. The things you think in the midst of labor. Regardless, with the next push his head was born and I held it there in my hand--it was entirely electrifying and exciting and it gave me the boost and stamina I needed to finish. After feeling him I wasn't feeling the pain anymore...I just wanted to hold him in my arms. His shoulders were born and the rest of him slipped out and I caught him in my hands, sat down and held him to my chest. It was an amazing moment! My baby boy was here--I caught him--it was over!

(meeting our son!)

I cannot even describe the feeling of seeing and holding my child for the first time--it is so incredibly amazing and unforgettable. All the hormones and emotions that surge at that moment is just so powerful as I made that first physical connection with my baby. I leaned back against the tub and held my squirmy little boy to my skin. He was entirely beautiful and perfect and it felt so good to hold him!!!

Finley was born at 12:17pm. He pinked up almost instantly. He weighed exactly 7lbs and was 20 inches long. One of the first things I noticed about him was how long his eyelashes were. He was perfect.

As I look back on my labor there's a few things that stand out to me. The biggest one being my son. I didn't realize this at the time, Andy was the one who noted it, but all throughout labor Finley's heartbeat stayed incredibly even. Andy said every time they checked it it was right at the 144 mark...even when I was pushing. Apparently when they checked it while I was pushing one of the midwives said: "Well, baby certainly doesn't mind the pushing!" He never felt stressed. He was strong, easy going, and calm all through labor.  There are several things I can relate to my labor with Vienna in comparison to her personality. And the same goes for Finely's birth as well. At one point Ruth made a comment when I was in labor about it being an "easy labor." Jokingly I whirled around and exclaimed "Easy?! It doesn't feel easy." In which she made another comment about how she meant that the labor was "easy going"--the baby was taking it easy on his momma. I thought about that for awhile while I labored and realized she was right. He was taking it easy on me. Look at the way labor started...I basically wasn't even in labor, yet he was working on his way out. All throughout pregnancy I felt like this baby was easy going...labor showed that...and so far in his two weeks of life on earth Finely has proven that. Labor was hard, it's never easy...but it did have an easy-going sense about it...it went simply, relaxed, and smooth. After my water was broke my labor only lasted 4hrs & 44mins--and that included the half hour of pushing and the good twenty minutes or so between catching Finely in my arms and birthing the placenta. It's hard to say how long my labor really was...because when do you start counting it? After it was all over Ruth asked me when I thought labor actually started...and in all honesty I didn't really feel like I was in labor until they broke my water. And it wasn't until then that I started having consistent steady contractions. So I could either look at it and say that I had a short labor of 4hrs & 44mins, or that I had a long labor of a good 18-22ish hours--depending on how you count when my contractions started considering they were kind of always inconsistent that whole night before.

Yeah, exactly. I don't really have an answer either.

The other thing I wanted to note about labor was how, again, I couldn't have done it without Andy. When the contractions started getting hard all I wanted was for him to be by me and to feel his touch. Even if he simply just put his hand on me, that was enough. He didn't have to say anything, he didn't have do anything, but I couldn't have done it without him...his presence meant everything to me and gave me the strength to get through it.

I am so thankful that my labor went smoothly and that Finley was born healthy. Even though it was hard, I really wouldn't birth any other way. Experiencing it, feeling it, knowing that I was doing exactly what I was created to do is entirely powerful and extremely rewarding. And I have to note that birthing at home is so much more relaxing than birthing in the hospital. The whole atmosphere is different and relaxed, it was entirely stress free. We got to make the decisions, I was free to move around and do what I wanted, eat when I was hungry, etc. And I can't even describe how good it felt to crawl into my own bed after labor was over...and have all the luxuries and comforts of home those first few days.

But, I can honestly say that at the end of labor I was just entirely glad that it was over. I instantly remembered why (after Vienna was born) I felt like there was no way I could ever do that again. Because I totally felt like that again. Yet I did do it. And already, with Finely only two weeks old, that feeling has diminished significantly. It's so crazy how a woman can remember details of birthing her children for years and years and years...yet we forget so easily that feeling of just how intense it really is. 

Intense indeed. But this tiny little human is worth every stretch mark, sleepless night and painful contraction. I wouldn't change a thing.

"People talk about how painful contractions are because they're so strong. But what we want women to know is that the strength of that contraction is the strength of their own bodies. They are as strong as the contraction is. And so they are able to manage it."  -unknown

"Childbirth is fundamentally a spiritual, as well as a physical, achievement...The birth of a child is the ultimate perfection of human love."   -Grantly Dick-Read

More Stats

More Pregnancy Stats I want to remember:

week 1 - week 26

-27 weeks, previous week pubic pain issue disappeared, felt amazing. Took it easy but started my normal exercise routine.

-29 weeks, 17 lb total weight gain. Full swing back into my regular routine. Baby turned head down and settled lower in my pelvis...definitely noticed the change in pressure and definitely started waking up more during the night to wee. Getting more tired, but still feeling good.

-31 weeks, had a terrible week of consuming bread and sugars and getting little sleep, felt super pregnant in every way--huge, tired and a sore. Re-focused and realized what I was doing to myself...

-32 weeks, 21 lb total weight gain.

-33 weeks, Amped things up a bit in my workouts--realized that I was lifting more and getting stronger. Felt phenomenal. Energy--strength--mood--diet--emotions--etc. 

-34 weeks, noticeably popped quite a bit! 25 lb total weight gain (not too happy about the 4lb increase in two weeks...but oh well!) 

-35 weeks, noticing significant changes every week. Having to slow down some--feeling my ligaments and body really changing and loosening. Baby settled even lower.

-36 weeks, managing to still exercise normally but more slowly (pushups, sit-ups, squats, running, weights, etc.) Feeling pretty good. 29lb total weight gain...another 4lb increase in two weeks. Interestingly enough I appear to put all my weight on at the end. It's got to be needed weight because I haven't changed anything in my diet or routine.

-37 weeks, major significant changes in my body. Every few days I notice big changes in the loosening and softening of my pelvis. Started easing up on the exercise routine quickly, out of necessity. It was affecting my lower back and hips. Decided I probably need to stick to walking, wall push-ups and shallow ball-assisted wall squats unless I wanted to be in pain everyday and walk around waddling.

-38 weeks, 3-4 cm dilated. 80% effaced. Baby's head past engagement point, at +2. 29lb total weight gain. Feeling pretty great! Appetite has significantly increased and I started craving the things I did in the beginning again. Keeping to walking and scrubbing floors as my source of exercise...trying to encourage this baby out. :) I'm tired by the end of the day and just my feet get a little sore, but I still feel pretty great and can manage everything fairly easily. Sleep is definitely challenging as he likes to move a lot at night and rub his head against my insides, but I've been good about getting to bed early and forcing myself to lie down during the day so most days I feel like I have a fair amount of energy. Can't believe he's almost here!!!!

I can't wait to hold his squirmy, wriggly little body in my arms. :) :) :)

(a couple previews from a 37week photo shoot)

Project Nursery

Okay, last one.

And, of course, this project was the most fun!

We'll call it: "Project Nursery." But really it all started with the bedding.

I got it in my head to make baby bedding...Why? you might ask. Well, First--I couldn't find a single thing that I liked online...lets just face it, they don't make little boys stuff as cute as they make little girl stuff. Second--even if I did find something I liked I couldn't justify spending the money on it. And Thirdly--I figured it really couldn't be that hard to make it myself.

I was right.

And I was wrong. All at the same time.

Let me explain.

It was extremely difficult figuring out what I wanted...the possibilities were endless. When I finally decided and went to the store to buy the material (after discovering it was out of stock online) I found out that it was out of stock in the store too. Huge bummer--and I was already running out of time. So my sister and I spent...waaaaaay too long in the fabric store coming up with something different than what I had been planning. It turned out to be a good thing because I ended up loving the new patterns more than what I originally picked out, but it was definitely a headache deciding!

I was anxious to start and decided to start with what I thought would be the most difficult. The crib blanket. I was wrong. It was so easy and turned out to be smoothest project I tackled these last months! It sort of just fell together, it wasn't complicated, I didn't have any of those "uh-oh" moments when I was cutting or sewing the material. If sewing was like that all the time...I would make so many things! Good thing it's not...because despite the fact that I made a few pieces of crib bedding...I'm really not a sewer. Please don't look at my work too closely.

But I'm happy with it. Actually, I totally love it.

This picture doesn't do it justice, it looks far too wrinkly. 

Next, I made the crib skirt. Nothing fancy. I didn't even use the sewing machine. I pretty much just cut the panels and used hemming tape to hem the edges. Then I used hemming tape to make little strips that I attached to the panels (with hemming tape of course) so that I could tie the little strips onto the crib spring base. That way when I lower the mattress I can just move the ties up so that it still falls to the floor.

Because I had material leftover from the bedskirt (which was my favorite pattern,) I decided to throw together a "cuddle" blanket. And when I say "throw" I mean that I intended it to be quick, easy, and look great...but in reality it literally looks like I threw it together. Ugh. I don't think I will ever be making one of these again. It was a nightmare. I almost gave up so many times. But I kept telling myself not to waste the money on the fabric so I persevered. After many late nights and much frustration, I finally got it to look okay. I really love the colors and I still hope that if he gets attached to a blanket it will be this one. But...just don't look at my sewing...it's scary.

I also made curtains, which I don't love. They were super easy, got them done in one night. But after seeing the room together I probably would've chosen a different material. Oh well. It's fine and at this point, I'm kind of done sewing for awhile. :)

But I ended up with bedding that I totally love, and it cost me a fraction of what I would've spent if I bought something new. And I got an extra blanket, two pillows and curtains out of the deal. :)

Aren't these pillows cute? I had to do something with the leftover material. But note the adorable little donkey next to them...my older sister got that for me the weekend we picked out all of my fabric and I am totally in love with it. Cutest stuffed animal. Ever. If only you could see his little tail. :)

So here's his completed room. :)  Which I'm totally excited about and can't wait to change him and feed him in everyday. I love being in the room, in fact we all do--I often find Vienna playing in here throughout the day. Sometimes I just stand at the door and think about what this little boy is going to look like and who he is going to be. Creating a nursery is very therapeutic for me, and making his bedding was a really awesome way for me to bond with this little man (despite the frustrating moments!) It's been different bonding with him than it was connecting with Vienna...mostly because I didn't have a kid when I was pregnant with her to occupy me so I had all the time in the world to think about her. The experience is definitely different the second time around, not any less special, just different and for me it was really nice to work on this and be able to spend time thinking about him.