Saying goodbye to nursing….

(Disclaimer. This is a post about me being sad that Hannah stopped nursing at one year. I understand that may seem silly to some of you, and that a year is a great amount of time to nurse, especially for those of you who were not able to nurse at all, or not been able to have children, or had to stop sooner then hoped because of going back to work or another reason, however these are my feelings, and I needed to write them out. I also needed to share them so I could let go of some of the shame that I hold on to. Most people who know me, know my birth choices and profession will assume that I will nurse her for much longer, and so it makes me sad when I have to tell them she’s not nursing anymore. I apologize if this offends or hurts anyone, it’s my process)

I need to write this out. It’s not for you, it’s for me. I need to say goodbye, and be okay with it. Maybe I need to cry. Just maybe writing about it…. will allow me to cry, and let it go. To be honest, I never knew it would be this hard.

My little lovie is done nursing. I will never again nurse a child. There, I said it. And now I’m crying. It’s hard moving through these things in our life, that bring so much joy, comfort, peace, and know that the are over, forever. It wasn’t always like this. With the boys, nursing was hard. It did get easier each time, but it hurt, always, and I did it more as a labor of love rather then a beautiful, enjoyable bonding thing I had with them. But with Hannah it was easy. She latched in her first moments of life. I never bled, never cracked, her latch was perfect and she knew exactly what to do. Let me say again, it never hurt, not in the beginning, not in the end, it never hurt. So when the other boys, at around the same age told me there was other things they would rather be doing then nursing by turning away or running away, I easily said goodbye. Knowing even with Micah, that there would probably be another child…… probably.

From the very beginning Hannah would only nurse for nourishment. The ultimate easy baby. Hungry, she would nurse, and pop off and go to sleep on her own. She never really nursed for comfort, because she was always happy. She never nursed to sleep really, except for a short while. She would nurse until full, pull off and then fall asleep, either just laying there or sucking her thumb. When she would wake at night, I would just lye on my side and nurse her, and I would usually fall back asleep before she did. She was the first out of the four that I was able to co-sleep with. She never moved much, just layed there peacefully, only waking every 3 or 4 hours in her early days. I was planning on sleeping with her and nursing her for A LOT longer then my boys. It worked, I wasn’t overtired, she slept great, and everything was just perfectly in tune.

Around 7 months we started putting Hannah to sleep awake in her crib every night. I worked a few nights a week, so it just worked well to do that for her. She did great with it, easy transition, and although sometimes woke after that, for the most part she slept until I got home from work. Around 9 months, she only woke up once a night and when I would pull her in bed with me to nurse her, and try to fall back asleep, she wouldn’t sleep. She would think it was play time. It wasn’t until I figured out she wanted to sleep in her own bed, and I put her back in it, she would fall asleep promptly and sleep till morning. I was mostly thankful, but still really sad that she was not going to be the one who slept with us till she was 3. I was so ready for that. I know that sounds crazy to some of you, but Jason and I were both open to it, our darling girl, close by all night, sleeping peacefully.

Around 10 months the biting started. She wouldn’t bite when she was finished nursing as so many of the books I read said, she would bite in the beginning. Telling me she didn’t want to nurse. She would not latch. She would bite instead of nurse. I could only get her to nurse in the morning and usually once during the day, but at night before bed, no way. I tried to pump up my supply, I took the placenta pills I had made that I never took because I never felt like I needed them. I’m not sure if it upped my supply or not, but her nursing behavior didn’t change. She DID NOT want to nurse. The times when she did nurse, it was if she was “accepting it” but it never felt like she wanted or needed it. I was heart broken. Would she even nurse till her first birthday? The minimum recommendation of pediatricians…….. MINIMUM!!!

The self judgmental questions that I was SURE other people would ask came into my head: How could you nurse her less then a year? Your a doula and a childbirth educator for God’s sake. What happened? You just aren’t trying hard enough, it’s a stage, she’ll start wanting it again. IT’s because you chose to work, now she just likes the bottle better. It’s because your using birth control, you should have done NFP, and then you would have no risk or hormones being involved, (except the hormones of pregnancy which of course would have happened by then, Hannah was conceived after 5 months of NFP) We started giving her bottles when we were out sometimes because it would help fill her up and get her to sleep at a baseball game or something. I was, (still am) TERRIFIED of anyone seeing her with a bottle. Willow Sanders does not give her baby a bottle when she has plenty of good milk in her breasts. I did have plenty of good milk, Hannah just didn’t want it.

For over a month, the only time I could convince her to nurse was first thing in the morning after sleeping all night, or if she woke in the middle of the night which was rare. There were two days right before she was done for good that she nursed mid morning too!! But then, a few days before her birthday party, she started refusing even in the morning, and even in the middle of the night. She would flail and cry and push me away if I offered it to her. I knew she was done, and me pushing the issue was not helping either one of us, I needed to let it go. We had made it over a year and at least I had that. So on September 12th, 2014, was our last time. She nursed for maybe 30 seconds and then pulled off and pushed away. I cuddled with her and loved her and thanked her for a wonderful year of closeness. I promised her that we would find other ways to be close, and that I respected her, and knew that this was her choice, and she was fine, and I was going to be fine. And then I vowed not to think about it at all. Just to go as long as I could without thinking about it so I wouldn’t mourn. But that hasn’t been working. Every time she asks for a bottle, or pushes me away, or doesn’t want to cuddle I start to cry. I miss that closeness, I miss her needing me. It sounds so pathetic, but it’s true. So I wanted to write this out…… for me, and for you if you happen to read it. To explain why no, in fact, I’m not nursing her anymore. It was her choice, not mine, not mine at all. I still believe in extended nursing, although none of my kids did it.

Everything she does is Magic…… Hannah at one Year old

Hannah swingI pretty much can’t get enough of her. I could just sit and watch her play and interact with her world all day. I actually spend more time doing just that then I did with the boys. It’s not that she is more amazing and magical then they were, it’s just that I didn’t realize that there was really NOTHING MORE IMPORTANT then soaking in every moment of these baby years, and so, with this last baby……. I am doing just that. I’m not as fit as I could be, the house is not as clean and I’m certinly not writing as much as I could be……. but I am soaking her in. All of her. Here are some things about Hannah as a one year old girl. Yep, I said it, girl. Not baby, not toddler. Girl.

She is very independent. She stopped wanting to sleep with me at all around 10 months old. She slept better in her crib, and although she would come in to nurse at night, as soon as she was done she would sit up and act like it was time to play. She wouldn’t go back to sleep until I put her in her crib. Which she went promptly to sleep at that time. This was the baby I was FINALLY able to co sleep with, the baby I didn’t care if she slept with us till she was 5. Jason didn’t care either. But she had other plans. She also started often sleeping through the night at this time. And she also slowly started getting less and less interested in nursing. 🙁

By around 11.5 months, she pretty much refused to nurse most times of the day and evening, only conceding to the occasional middle of the night session and consistently in the morning. And when I say refused, I means she arched her back, and screamed, or quickly bit my nipple to tell me she didn’t want anything to do with it.(this went on for at least 2 months) I’m not going to lie……. it broke my heart. I’m broken hear-ted about it………. so much I can’t really write much about it. As of ab out 4 days ago, (12 1/2 months) she is totally done nursing. This was the baby I was going to nurse until she was 2………. at least. This was the first time I have ever truly LOVED nursing. But enough about the things she won’t do……… let’s talk about what she DOES.

She’s kind, sweet, and loving.
She’s always happy. Really.
She loves Balls, and she LOVES her elephant stuffy Huggie.
She hugs any doll or stuffed animal you give to her and says……. “Awwwwwww”.
She gives great open mouth kisses.
She points at everything and say’s “Dis??” in the most adorable high pitched voice that you know she’s asking what something is.
She has many words……… bye bye, mama, Dada, Cracker, (pronounced, CRAW-Kar)ball, Elmo, hot, eye and eyes, up, down, uh-oh, when something falls, baby, bubu (for Micah), and E-shy-sha (for Elijah), and Ba for (Ben). There is so many more I’m just not thinking of them right now. She makes great attempts at words like doggy, and butterfly and flower, (some of her favorite things), but they don’t really sound anything like the words. 🙂
She LOVES books. Her favorite is “Rachael Isadora I see”………. it was Micah’s favorite, and it was blackened by the fire…. but I saved it. I’m so glad I did. She loves it. She loves to touch her bellybutton when the part about Rachael’s belly button, and she pretends to splash the water on the page about the bath. Her other favorite is Mr. Brown Can Moo, especially when Daddy reads it to her.
She still loves water. From day one, she just loves to be in it. Never one moment of fear.
She still is a major thumb sucker…….. I still love it. I’m sure I won’t always feel that way.

She LOVES Elmo. This is a new obsession. But it’s adorable, and it’s one of her most reliable words.

She loves the swing at the park.

She’s totally fine to play for long periods of time with toys whatever. She loves to take things out, and put them back in. She’s a good “cleaner upper” She loves to explore.

She just learned how to use to remote, she’s turned the TV on, and turned it to a channel about woman’s hair. 🙂

As from birth she’s very interactive. She makes great eye contact, and will draw you into her world with her smiles and babbles. She wants to know your with her, but then she’s fine to explore on her own. Since she started crawling, she doesn’t feel the need to be held much. (much to her mamma and Micah’s dismay). She’s pulling up and cruising now, but still seems far off from walking. She can get up and down with no problems, hold on with one hand, but is still very wobbly and unsteady. I worry sometimes, and then I remember, she’s so smart, she’s just got hyper-mobile joints and low tone like her Mamma…..

She’s obsessed with climbing the stairs. I’m so glad we got a gate to block them. This is why I can sit and write this now, as she plays around me.

I just love how she does something, then looks at me to make sure i’m looking, with the most adorable smile. I’m telling you……… everything she does is magic. Seriously.

Sorry to burst your bubble……

Confessions of an imperfect mom.

I recently had an experience with a friend, that made me realize, I might have an image of perfection in some areas of my parenting, that simply aren’t true.

I mentioned that I wasn’t really getting much breast milk from the pump anymore, and my frozen storage was almost gone, and I was going to have to give Hannah some formula pretty soon. There response was this, “Oh wow, that just sounds so strange coming out of your mouth Willow” Another friend while she was nursing her new baby, compared herself to me, in that she would never give her son formula, just like I never would.

Uhhhhhh……. sorry to burst your bubble, but all of my kids have had forumla. And all of them BEFORE Hannah’s current age of 8 months. A pump only works on my for a while, with the others, it was about 5 months that it stopped working, this time, I have been able to eek it out till 8 months. And I work a little bit, she’s going to get a little bit of formula. I still produce milk for the babes while they nurse, but the pump just doesn’t’ do the same thing, no matter how high grade it is. And I never felt bad about it before, I mean, if I’m giving my baby yogurt and food, what’s a little formula going to to do to them. But for some reason, this time, with Hannah, I felt bad. Because people just don’t expect that of me, they expect me to be able to do all things, work, nurse, pump, produce for the pump. They kinda expect me to the be the “perfect mom” I have somehowe built myself up to be. Well, sorry to burst your bubble…… But I’m far from the perfect mom.

Here are some other things you might be surprised to know about me and my AMAZING motherhood.

After every birth, I tell myself, if I get pregnant again, I’m scheduling a Cesarean……. way easier then what I just went through. And then, I change my mind. 🙂

I do NOT enjoy natural birth. I do it because I believe in the capacity of the human body to give birth when it is left alone and given the opportunity. I do not find it powerful or amazing (for me) like some other woman I have been with……. I’m so blessed to be part of a birth like that, but it’s not been my personal experience. I hate the pain of contractions, but I love the truth that our bodies are designed to bring forth the child that we grew inside of us, with little intervention or risk. Mess with that process, and you bring trouble.

I hardly do art with my kids. Or cook with them. I pretty much HATE arts and crafts.

I regularly feel like a bad mom and don’t know why they love me so much.

I was HORRIBLE at homeschooling them. Oh how I wish that wasn’t so….

I feed them WAY to much crap. WAY more then I ever got, and I feel so guilty over it.

I’m so embarrassed about my stupid leg veins, that I won’t go swimming with them most days….. it takes A LOT for me to quickly slip into the pool.

I’m actually not that great with OTHER peoples kids. If I cant nurse them, or slobber all over them with kisses…. it’s just not the same.

For some reason, unbeknownst to me, I have this reputation of being and “amazing mother”. As much as I enjoy the accolades, (I’ve never been one to shy away from a compliment), I don’t really understand where this idea comes from.

When I think of the list in my mind, about the definition of “amazing mother”, I really don’t match up. Here is list of some things amazing mothers do, in my book:

Read to their children every night.
Read the bible to their children, every night.
Keep a clean house, on top of…
Cooking whole healthy food, every single night.
Never giving in to “drive through dinner”.
Doing arts and crafts with their kids on a regular basis.
Teaching their children an instrument.
Teaching their children to paint and draw.
Sewing and mending clothing.
Meal planning and having dinner on the table every night when Daddy get’s home, even when I have to work.
Having kids who excitedly, stand, sing and worship during church.
Have kids who excitedly eat all their veggies.
Teach their kids all of the Sunday school songs.
Lead family devotionals and worship time on a regular basis.
Teach good manners.
Sit down together for dinner, as a family, most nights of the week.
Never let their kids eat in front of the TV.
Breastfeed 100% without their children ever touching formula
Make all their baby food out of organic healthy fruits and vegetables, never buying processed crap from the store.
Not giving their child sugar until far after their first birthday.
Be willing to homeschoool their kids, even if it’s a miserable disaster in their lives.

A lot of these I do, sometimes…… not as much as I would like. But many of them, I don’t do at all…… never, ever. But I love my kids. A lot. I love them with a love that is not my own, but is so real, and intense, and thick, that I want to do whatever I can to give them a happy and whole life, and a relationship with the giver and creator of Love, our one and only God.

That’s it. That’s really where my amazing motherhood begins and ends. So you can stop looking up to me now. And realize, all of us, are good at at a few things about mothering. Another thing I just don’t get, is other people idolizing other people. We are all good at something, and we all have something to give. Let’s just work on finding out what those things are, and walking and living in them, and let other people who are good at other things, live and walk in those other things for us.

I’m thankful to have people in my life, and my kids lives, who are good at art, crafts, and help me teach them these things. I’m thankful for their teachers, who are doing the job I can’t do. I’m thankful for a strong church body, who will come along side where Jason and I fall. I’m thankful for parents and their grandparents who fill in the gaps where we are left wanting. I’m thankful for all of the mothers and mother figures in my life that teach me and challenge me every day to be better, and be more.

I’m totally okay with being imperfect. I hope you are too. 🙂

Yesterday was a crappy day…

and today, well, it’s starting off in the same way….

Yesterday sucked. Yep, that’s right. I said it, it sucked. My leg hurt so bad I cried on the way down the stairs with Hannah and had to have Jason come help me. I woke up to an overdrawn account, (because I transferred all our money into savings not taking into account certain things). I’m in the process of trying to get our Air conditioning in the Van fixed because it has blown the compressor 4 times in the last year since our front end collision. IT’s clear it’s FROM the collision, but it’s hard to PROVE it. So our insurance company wanted us to take it to the HONDA Dealership to prove it. A simple diagnostic they said would cost at the MAX $250, (which was WAYYYYYY more than I expected bringing it in, remember, overdrawn account)….. Well, they didn’t figure it out, and still charged us $250, it was going to be 100’s more to continue looking for the problem and “Prove” it had to the with the accident thus getting us our money back and the problem fixed…… BOO!!!!!!!! Okay, I’m fuming thinking about it. This is NOT what this post was about. More bad something, an ATM machine in Occidental drafted $42 from my account but told me it was declined and I got no cash……… and I’m not even going to go into all of the garbage we are dealing with regarding our previous landlord and her hiding from us. Oh and did I mention my leg hurt like CRAZY!!!!!!!! I might have been able to handle this all better if my leg didn’t hurt so seriously bad!!!

So as much as I wanted to get on facebook and RANT about all of these things, to have people feel sorry for me and thus someone make me feel better, I decided against it. I decided to make a list of all of the things I was thankful for instead, and remember how TRULY and HUGLEY Blessed we are. So for my own benefit, I am listing the things I came up with here. Today is not that much better in the money and stress department, so I need to get these things down and cemented.

1. I got to spend the whole day with my dad, as he drove me around, and we waited for my car to be done.

2. My dad loves me and my children more than anything in the world. I’m so blessed to have him as my dad.

3. My house that I was in too much pain to clean or bend over to pick anything up is a gift from God, It is perfect for our family in so many ways and regardless of the current financial woes, we have the $ for Rent and we love living here. We are blessed.

4. Even though Hannah did not get one nap in her bed yesterday due to the all day running around, she slept short spurts in the car, was a perfect, agreeable angel, happy and smiling all the time. As usual. This child, is God’s gift to this stressed out family. I can’t believe how blessed we are with her and her temperament. We deserved an easy baby this time, and we got just that. Not just easy, sweet, calm, adorable as all get out.

Today I get to stay home and do nothing while I continue to let my leg heal. Well, do nothing is not really true…….. but not going anywhere.

Last night as I was writing this list, it was 8:40 and everyone was in bed. Maybe not asleep, (Elijah and Micah monkeys) but they were all in bed, and bedtime rituals were done with.

I got to talk to my pastor, his wife and his sister on Facetime, (some of my best friends in the world). Although that is not usual, it’s something I’m so thankful for. Not only for my Pastor but for his family who are like family to me.

Even though I feel like this problem with the Air conditioning will NEVER get fixed, and I’m sure it is REALLY harmful for a baby to be in such a hot car, I am reminded of what my mom told me when it first broke almost a year ago……. “Willow, we never had air conditioning in any of our cars while you were growing up, you were fine”. Oh, what we have grown to know as normal. We are blessed.

We recently bought Jason a great car whose air condition DOES work. 🙂 So if he needs to take the Van to work in the summer, we can all fit in the Sedan. LOL.

We are all healthy in the house, and not sick. Something to be grateful for. In fact, short of a VERY quick stomach bug around Christmas that spared Hannah and I, we have not been sick at all this winter.

My house may not have the furniture I want in it, it may not be stylish and pretty like some of my friends houses, but it’s big, and beautiful, and holds us all well……….. I am so thankful. The rest will come in time, I’m sure.

I have a husband who loves me, and thinks I’m beautiful. He loves his job, even though he’s a bit stressed at it right now.

Benjamin loves Hannah, and he is kissing her and showing affection towards her regularly now. SUCH a blessing after him not taking to Micah at all, which is STILL a problem.

He is not having many seizures……… and is eating an almost regular diet.

Elijah and Micah are the best brothers in the whole wide world. Really.

Hannah just smiled at me, and all is okay in the world.

Have I proved it to myself yet? There is far more to be thankful for. God is constantly working, moving, helping, changing. Rest Willow. Rest in Him. Amen.

Encouragment? Or feeling less than…

Recently, a dear friend of mine said to me, “Your such a good mom, lately, I feel like I need to stop reading your facebook posts because they make me feel bad about myself. I don’t miss my kids when they go to school, I need the break.” OH NO!!!! That is so sad to me! I don’t post them to make people feel BAD about themselves! Jeez Louise! I post them to encourage and uplift, to get people thinking and make them feel good……. not to make them feel BAD!!

So for those of you who might have felt slightly in the same way, (in case you happen to red this anyway), here is a disclaimer.

I missed my kids horribly the first day then went back to school. Even the second….. but the third and fourth, I had started to thoroughly enjoy cleaning my house, snuggling with my baby, going grocery shopping with ONLY Hannah, and I even enjoyed picking them UP from school! I especially enjoyed it because I was getting to hear what they did and how they made new friends and were feeling better and better about our family choice to send them back. I enjoyed not fighting with them everyday, and feeling like a horrible person because I couldn’t teach my children school, and hating every second of something I wanted so badly to love and be good at.

Someone recently said about me with a Chuckle, “Oh Willow, she’s happy no matter what, shes fine with whatever.” I would not say that’s true…….. I have my preferences, I would LOVE for all my children to spend every single day of their school lives at Private Christian school like Windsor Christian…. I would PREFER them NOT to have friends that used the F word and played rated M 18+ video games at age 6. But if that’s not possible…… I’m going to MAKE THE BEST out of what they ARE getting to do. I am going to focus on the POSITIVE of the situation and work through the negative. That’s just what I do, it’s how I have learned to stay sane. And if by posting all of the GOOD things about my life and my thought processes on facebook helps me to do that, then I will keep doing it. It’s true, I don’t post every negative thought that goes through my head on facebook. I’m not telling you about the 100’s of bad food choices I’m making and all the days I WANT to work out but I don’t or I can’t….I don’t tell you about the days I want to crawl up in a bawl and cry all day. Who would that help? Certainly not me, and certainly not you. Does that make me “Fake” or not real? No……. it makes me someone who tries to bring the BEST of my mind and heart into the light, and let the other part die in the darkness. Oh it’s there, trust me….. but I’m gonna smother it with the positive aspects of all of the things in my life, smother the darkness to death. Going out of my way, to post the happy, and wonderful thoughts that come into my head, helps me to do just that.

That being said, I am a HUGE proponent of talking out your dark feelings. Don’t hide them or they can never be dealt with. TALK TO SOMEONE ABOUT THEM!! But not on facebook. What you put on facebook can define who you are and what you stand for to others. I am well aware that what I say, and post on facebook defines me to many of you, especially those of you I don’t see in real life. I want to encourage, uplift, teach and share……… not use you all as my counseling session. Make sense? I hope so. I really do love you all so, and never want my way of keeping myself sane in this world to make any of you feel bad……… we all have darkness and light….. I am just sharing my light…..

Birth, the Final Chapter – Part. 2

(I wrote this when Hannah was 2.5 months old and am just now publishing it) I am posting it thinking of many of my friends who are due right now, some of them, their due date has come and gone, and they are still pregnant…… some had their babies already, and some are still waiting for their day to come. This is for all of them.

It was 10 days past my EDD. I was going crazy being this late.  I am the first to tell you, “babies come when they are ready, trust the process, trust your baby………..” to OTHER people. But I was very surprised she had not been born.  I stayed healthy, exercised regularly through 34 weeks, taken walks, hikes, gone to Six Flags with all the kids at almost 38 weeks, and swam in the weeks after that.  I even went to the gym and did the stair climbing machine. My last spin class was at 37 weeks.  But there  I was still pregnant at 41 weeks 3 days.  Home birth is really not advised past 42 weeks. And being a VBAC I don’t have an option for induction even if I wanted one. I wanted to let her come when she was ready, but I was getting anxious, and also worried about her size, since my last child was 10’4.

So with my midwife and doulas, we decided on day 10 to take black and blue cohosh.  That did not work. I was actually opened to 4-5cm, but with very few contractions. After a Membrane strip and my midwife doing cervical pressure points on my cervix, I was opened to 5-6cm, and we hoped it would stay that way, but I was still having very few contractions.  On day 11, I took Castor Oil, it did make me poop a bunch, and cause some contractions for a while, but by evening, they faded away. Sadly, I had a great nights sleep. The next day I woke up pissed off, my mom was already here, and I was feeling desperate, but hopeless. I was tired of having to let all the people waiting for my, “baby is born” post on Facebook, that she was not born yet.  I was worried that all I had done, all my talk about about trusting my baby and my body was falling short. I guess I was feeling performance anxiety. So I told Facebook I was going dark until she was born. That was Wednesday morning.

My doula and midwife recommended acupuncture and homeopathy.  Also to visit the chiropractor I had been seeing over the last month.  I woke up and my mom drove me to the chiropractor, he said the vertebrae that was connected to the uterus was off kilter, and he adjusted me.  I had a pretty big contraction after I left there.  Next I went to see Claudette at her office in Petaluma, where she did another, deeper Membrane sweep, and more pressure points on the cervix. My cervix had closed to 4-5cm, but that was almost expected and she was not worried. Then, I went to acupuncture, it was my first time ever doing that. I do NOT like needles. It wasn’t fun, but I did it. The practitioner who was an old Chinese woman, (the real deal) advised me that I was not eating enough, but also never to eat cold food again. Well, in true Willow Style, I listened to the advice I wanted to hear, and decided I DID need to eat more, and ice cream was a suitable food to start with.  We were planning on meeting me sister who was on her way back home, (Sacramento) from a conference in Santa Rosa. We met at an ice cream shop in downtown Petaluma.  I had an old fashioned banana split. Three scoops of Ice cream, with the traditional banana split toppings. I was going to share it with my sister, but she ordered her own thing, so I hate most of it with no problem. We headed home, it was about 4pm.  On the way home, I had a few big contractions.  When I got home, I got the trusty breast pump out and started to do 10 minuets on both breasts at a time.  Problem was, every time I came off the pump, even if it was after just a few minuet, I would have a HUGE contraction.  So big, that I could not continue pumping. And even though they were ONLY coming with breast pump, I could NOT get comfortable in-between the contractions.  I was starting to worry that I was overstimulating my uterus, since it felt like the contractions never went away, even though were 15 minuets to a half hour apart.  So I stopped pumping, called Connie my doula, and told her I was worried that my uterus was being overstimulated, it had been an hour since I had stopped pumping, and I was still really uncomfortable, and only contracting every 45 minuets or so, but was soooooo uncomfortable even in between. She recommended I call Claudette, which I did.  Claudette assured me I could not be over stimulating my uterus if it had been an hour or two since I had stopped pumping.

So I went to bed. I wish I could remember what I did that night. Did I say goodnight and pray for the boys and for Hannah like I usually did? I don’t think so, I think Jason did it, but I can’t remember.  By 11pm I went to bed, Jason was already asleep.  I think I got about 20 minuets of sleep, before another contraction started. I had to get out of bed for it, because as infrequent as they were, they were very strong. Afterwards, I had to walk around for a while before I get into bed. It seemed within minuets of falling asleep, I was awoken with another contraction. They were about 45 minuets apart….. soon they were 1/2 hour apart, then 20 minuets, then 15.  Around 1am they were consistently 15 minuets apart, and I was not able to sleep at all between them, I just could not get comfortable.  Being a doula myself, and having had two doulas at my last two births, I was very much wanting that kind of support. I just prayed for the time that they would get close enough to be able to call someone in. At about 2am, I decided I needed to get in the bath, even though my contractions were still far apart, I needed the relief of the warm water to try to relax. It worked, it was wonderful.  As I was running the water, Jason woke up. I told him I needed him, and he came right to the rescue.  Pressing on my back, and giving me the kind of awesome support I needed and wanted.   After I got in the water, I guess the relaxing in the water really did the trick, and my contractions immediately went to 4 minuets apart. (it’s also possible my water broke at that time, in the water. However, I did not notice it. We don’t really know when it really broke, but it was undetected.  After about 10 contractions like that, Jason and I decided it was time to call my doula. It was about  3am when I called. I asked Connie if I should call  my midwife, and she said to wait for 10 more like that and then to call. So I did, they then went to 3 minuets apart, lasting 45 seconds to a minuet. So I called Claudette, then I called Dana, my second doula who was also my friend and Pastors wife.  I called, woke her up, I couldn’t talk, she said, “You need me now”, I whispered yes. That was it. She was on her way. Connie and Dana came at almost the same exact time, around 3:30am.

I remember the moment they got there. Jason had seen them pull up, and told me they were here. I was in the middle of a contraction when they came in, still in the tub.  I imagined I was in the doula role. Walking in, watching rather then going through it. So often I walk in, mom contracting, I come close and quiet, and wait to make contact. That is exactly what they did, and I knew at that time, I was really going to have my baby soon. I finished my contraction, and shared a smile and a giggle with them. Here we were, the day, the moment we had been waiting for, not only for months, but it seems perhaps my whole life.

My midwife arrived around 4am. What an awesome thing to have everyone come to me, and not having to think about going anywhere.  I was not afraid anymore of Hannah being in danger, I just wanted her out. I wanted to progress and be done, even though, in comparison to my other labors I had not been doing it very long. Everything was a blur by this time. I got out of my bathtub, and Jason started filling the birth pool.  As my midwife and I had previously discussed, I would not be able to get into the tub until I was far enough along to prevent stalling or baby going posterior.  I was having a lot of back pain, but also a lot in the front, so we did not think she was posterior.  I was checked around 5:30am and I was said to be 7cm, not a huge change from the not in labor check being a stretchy 4-5cm. But I was 100% effaced, so that was good, and an improvement from the check the day before.  I labored for a while out of the water, the feeling in front down low was very intense.  I asked my doula to grab a rebozzo to support and do a belly lift, it helped, but then she grabbed a rolling pin, filled it with hot water and placed it under my belly. That was heavenly.  To help with the back pain, my doulas got a piece of a pool noodle, and I leaned up against the wall, and rolled my back on it as I had a contraction. Somewhere about that time, my friend, fellow doula, and birth photographer Seana arrived. She stayed quite in the background taking photos, and only stepped in when needed, but I knew she was there, and that helped.   The labor was intense, and strong, but it was happening.  I was in transition. I started doing all of the typical things that woman do when they are in transition. Getting mad, feeling defeated, and crying and getting emotional. I had emotions of defeat, and emotions of joy. Tears of defeat, and tears of joy, back and forth, in the true ‘woman in transition’ fashion. <strike></strike> It was happening, I was having my baby. Everyone was there, supporting me, loving me, and my baby girl would be there soon.  I had asked my doulas to help guide me through contractions by using the things I had been teaching my classes, breathing my baby down and out, breathing in the shape of a J. I remember thinking and saying, “It works, it really works”. When I concentrated on breathing my breath down and out in the shape of a J, I was able to relax and manage the contractions better. It was so cool to know that what I taught actually worked. Early in the labor, before people got there, I was singing through the contractions. That worked great too, it did not allow me to hold my body tight, and not to panic.  I stopped being able to sing through them though, by the time everyone got there. It was working earlier, but no longer worked. The feelings were too intense. Around 7am I got in the birth pool. It was awesome. The heaviness I was feeling in the front was literally gone in the water, and people were around me, pressing on my back, my two doulas, and my wonderful husband. I couldn’t handle hard counter pressure as I had enjoyed in previous labors, but just having someones warm hands on me made a difference.  I was having a hard time relaxing, even in between. Connie did this thing where she took her finger and pressed it hard into the middle of my forehead, and I immediately relaxed. It seemed like a magic trick at the time, and I remember wondering why I had never learned about this before, or used it with my clients.  By 7 the boys were up, and I was told they were excited, and could not hear a thing. Which was good. I was moaning quite a bit, and probably started saying bad words as I was feeling discouraged that I was not pushing yet. Jason also woke my mom up who had been sleeping in the next room, surprisingly she did not hear a thing.  She was a huge help with everything and I’m so glad she was already there.  Around 8:15, Ben got on the bus to go to school, my dad arrived shortly before that. Around 8:30 uncle Josh came and picked up Elijah and Micah. Right before Ben left for school, I was checked again. I was 9cm dialated, with only a lip on one side to go.  Hannah was still high up though, and had to come down. I was discouraged that I was not having the urge to push, and that’s when all of the fear and anxiety about Elijah’s birth came back. I was sure something was wrong, and I kept asking about it. I just KNEW it would be another 8 hours of being stuck at 9cm. I also wondered if after the boys left if I would just finish dialating and be able to push. With every contraction, (they were coming about every 2-3 minuets, and had been since 5am), I got mad that I wasn’t pushing yet. I started to get a really bad attitude, the F word was flying through the air every other contraction.  I remember my mom coming in at one point, and I said to her, unless you want to see me freak out, you better leave.  I knew it was hard for her to see me in such distress.

My midwife told me to lunge on one side.  To get rid of the lip. To put my leg up during the contraction. It was hard, but I did it.  We were in the bathroom, by the tub. I would put my leg up on a stool, and fine a focal point on the wall, and furrow my brown, and breath hard and heavy through every contraction.  I started to pull on the intensity I had learned in spin class, or in working out.  I would get mad at it, my face looked mad, and I felt it. Focused, intense, and mad.  I knew I was using what I had learned working out so hard over those last few years.  Jason even said something about it.  He said, “I can tell you are so much stronger, and your endurance is there because of how fit you are.” I didn’t feel fit, but still, it was good to hear him say it. I believed him, that I was strong, and I could and was doing this. My contractions were getting weaker, my body was getting tired.  At acupuncture the day before I had been given pressure points in the form of taped on beads on to my ears to increase contractions.  My doulas pressed on them and the contractions got stronger.  I hated it. I even pushed them off of me during one contraction.  Stating……. “NO!!” I’m F’ing over this!” over and over.  You must know, I pretty much never say the F word.  Except during birth…… so it’s always a little comical and embarrassing to me. Claudette gave me a shot of B12, to increase contractions more. It worked as it usually does.  Why they don’t do this in the hospital is beyond me.  A safe natural way to increase the intensity of contractions without the need for an IV or pitocin.  I wanted to get back in the water, and I did.  I stood for my contractions, making a water mark with my hand on the wall, and using that as a focal point.  I would sit back down in the water between contractions.  After a while, I was checked again. Still had a lip.  I was pissed. Really pissed. What the heck was wrong? Was this normal? I kept asking. I was assured no one was worried, so I shouldn’t be either.  Just take it contraction by contraction.  So that’s what I did.  Looking back, it’s hard to believe it was as long as it was.  I had asked my darling Dana to be there as a doula, and spiritual mentor during labor. I had been with her during her two births, and she is a Rock that I knew I would need.  She grabbed me at one point, got serious with me, and she prayed. I don’t remember what she said, but it worked. Her faith in birth, her faith in God gave me the strength to carry on.  At another time, when my faith was failing with me, my midwife Claudette read to me Psalm 34 that I had printed and placed on my mirror. I remember saying in a bold voice, “Read it again!” and so she and Dana did just that. With the fury and faith that I did not have, but I needed for them to have.  Connie suggested a change of scenery. We had been in my room and bathroom the whole time. Now that the boys were gone, she suggested we leave the room, and walk the stairs.  We did that. We made it down 1/3 of the stairwell, to the landing, and I turned around and went back up. That was enough.  I had a few very strong contractions at the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall for support.

At some point, still not feeling the urge to push, I asked, “Can I just try and push past the lip?” my doula agreed it was a good idea, and Claudette said we could go for it.  We decided to try pushing on the birth stool, to see if I could move Hannah down to the point where I could feel the urge to push. They set it up, at the side of the bed.  I sat, and I pushed.  It worked! I was moving her down and the cervical lip was diminishing. But I got tired really fast there, and although I had moved her down, the lip was still present.  Claudette suggested I lay on the bed, on my side for a few contractions, without pushing.  Although I didn’t really have a strong urge to push, pushing still felt way better then just managing the contractions.  Going through a contraction on my side was excruciating.  But at one point, I really felt her move down. That was good news.  Claudette worked on the cervix, and finally, I was said to be 10cm.  Although I still didn’t feel a strong urge, it was pushing time.  Claudette and the assistant Maryanne brought out this new thing they had been using.  It was a rubber thing shaped with a triangle on one side, and a circle on the other.  I held onto the triangle, and Dana held the circle. We both started standing, and when a contraction hit, I would sqat, lean back, and push with all my might, just like I had to poop.  Right down there. And yes, I did poop a little.  You think pooping on the delivery table is bad, try pooping while squatting with everyone around you.  I was aware of it, and yeah, it bothered me a little. But that was not going to stop me, I wanted this over with. Soon Dana tired, and Jason took over.  Jason was so amazing during my birth.  I didn’t expect much from him, I wanted him to feel free to take care of the boys, and that I would have my girls there with me. But he went above and beyond, giving suggestions, and really being a part of the process.  I got tired.  I wanted to try laying on my side to push so I could really get a rest in-between. Well that was awful.  I just could not do labor laying down, even pushing.  So I did a few contractions like that, and said, no way.  I got back up.  We pulled out the birth stool again.  Hannah was moving down and birth was near.  Funny thing is, I still didn’t feel a strong urge to push.  I didn’t feel much of a ring of fire, but I could reach down and feel her there.  That’s when the pushing got really serious. I was a stong pusher. I knew I was moving her, and I knew I was strong. It was a powerful feeling. I knew it was her, it was really happening. I could hold on to the birth stool, which caused me to be in the squat position, and pull my body back and gyrate my pelvis up and push with all my might.  Claudette was below me, Connie was to my left,  and Dana was in front of me filming.  My mom and dad were there too, because birth was close, and this was an encouraging thing.  The assistant midwife was close checking heart tones between and during contractions.  Hannah’s heart rate was perfect. She never showed any signs of distress, and everyone was remarking about how wonderful that was.  Jason was behind me, waiting for for the first glimpse of his daughter.  She started to crown. Connie, was so excited, I could hear it in her voice, and see it on her face.  She kept asking me, do you want to see, she’s right there, I can see her! I declined, over and over.  I knew I would see it on the video later, I couldn’t look just then.  Finally, finally, her head was out, and before another contraction began, I asked, can i just push the rest of her out…… Claudette said, “Sure, why not”, so that’s what I did.  I pushed even without a contraction, and the rest of her came slipping out, no problems, she didn’t need any help like Micah did, she just slipped right out.  She was pink right away and let out a cry.  Writing out the pushing phase feels like hours, but really it was only about 25 minuets.  Longer than Micah, but certainly not long as pushing phases go. All of my fears and anxieties were for not.  Claudette grabbed her and put her on my chest.  And I kissed her, all over her face.  This was the moment I had been dreaming of for months and months, and honestly for years.  My precious baby girl, the one I always knew was there, in the future, but in some other way, never thought I would meet. Everyone was so happy and smiles and joy filled the room. I moved to the bed holding on to my darling daughter.  They would help me to deliver the placenta on the bed.  Jason kissed me, he kissed his daughter. My mom and dad were overjoyed.

The placenta had a hard time coming out, it wanted to stay in, but my amazing team did what they needed to do, and with prayer and deceleration of my health and the health of the whole placenta, it came out.  Dana broke out into worship shortly after, and then Claudette and I joined her.  It was a beautiful moment.  I sang the song I had been singing to Hannah while she was inside of me……. “I love you Lord, I lift my voice to worship…… you……..” It was precious, beautiful, and spirit filled. There were tears of Joy, and of beauty and faith. I was high on adrenaline and although there had been some stress about my placenta coming out, I didn’t feel one bit of it.  I had my baby girl, God was clearly evident and powerful in the room, my family, and my ladies of birth were with me…. I was complete.  Hannah latched on right away, she was an amazing latcher, and still is to this day.  She is just over 2.5 months old, an absolute Joy and treasure.  Smiled from birth, nursed great from birth, and has even slept great from birth.  It was an intense birth, even more intense in some ways then Micah’s, but it was wonderful, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

The moment we meet, on the outside                                           Hannah Joy, 3 minuets old.
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Birth, The final chapter – Part.1

Birth. The final chapter of this story, for me, the momma of 4, doula, childbirth educator, and woman of God. The birth story of Hannah Joy, could not, and would not be the same, without first telling about her three older brothers and the way they came into the world.  And since that could in itself take a book, I will try to be brief.

A full 12 years and 4 days before Hannah joined us, I had my first child. Being raised a hippie girl, I was still in a bit of rebellion against such lifestyles and choices.  I went with the conventional, hospital birth, and followed all the rules.  I never learned about nutrition, and blood pressure, and so many other things I know now.  I just used pregnancy as an excuse to eat whatever I wanted, (I was eating for two right?), sit around as much as I could, (I was taking care of my body by relaxing right?).  I developed PIH, (pregnancy induced hypertension), and although there were only very slight signs that it was leading to a dangerous pregnancy disease called toxemia, I was set to be induced at 37 weeks when my blood pressure was dangerously high.  The induction started on a Monday night, and after a full three days of Cytotec and Pitocin, NOTHING was happening.  I was sent home to rest, and to come back the next morning, (a Friday), to have my water broken and the pit cranked.  It’s worthy to note, as long as I was lying around in the hospital bed, my blood pressure was within normal limits, and out of the danger zone.  After my waters were broken, labor started.  Although I had “Planned” on a natural birth, after 20 hours of back to back contractions, only getting to 4cm, I got the epidural.  The Epidural seemed to go up in it’s numbing power, I was shaky, short of breath, and terrified.  It was not what I was expecting, and within a few hours, Benjamin’s heart rate shot up into the 180’s, and I got a fever.  Once mom get’s a fever, the call is almost always for a Cesarean, since it is impossible to know if the fever is from the epidural or a uterine infection. So the Pit was turned off, the contractions stopped, and off I went. I was thrilled.  I wasn’t sad or dissapointed, just so excited to meet my baby, nothing could be better. I remember my dad singing, “beautiful, beautiful boy, as I was wheeled into the OR on a stretcher, I was smiling from ear to ear and just so excited to finally get to meet my son.  Well, I didn’t get to meet him right off, his blood sugar was BARELY low, and they kept him in the NICU for over 3 hours, not allowing me to see him, (just for low blood sugar?? what??) Jason became a ferocious father tiger as he watched our son get poked and prodded every hour only to find a slightly higher then normal blood sugar level.  After three hours of this,  I got to see him for about 30 seconds after a very kind nurse kinda snuck him into my room, and then it wasn’t for another few hours that I was able to make my way into the NICU to attempt breastfeeding and visit with him. He had already had a bottle of formula and sugar water to try to get his sugars up.  Once I was able to be with him, I was with him every second I could. We stayed four nights. The last night was his first night in our room.  It was not traumatic to me at the time, I was just so in love and excited to be a Mom, he was, (and is) so perfect, so beautiful, none of the breastfeeding or birth problems could touch me.  Breastfeeding was hard. It took a full 8 weeks to feel like I didn’t want to cry every time he latched. But I stuck with it, because to me, there were no other options.  I would never give that up, it just wasn’t in my frame of reality if that makes sense.  I still never loved it, but I did it, because it was the best thing for my boy.  It is important to note, that my beautiful Benjamin, perfect at birth as far as I can tell, has had a struggle beyond words in his 12 years of life. At 12 years old, he is diagnosed with Autism, Cerebral Palsey, ir-retractable Epilepsy, and mental retardation.  He’s still in a diaper for constant bowel movements.  But, he is still loving, sweet, adorable and not a mean or angry bone in his body.  He is our biggest teacher and love as well as our greatest heartache to see him struggle. We will probably never know why he suffers the way he does, and if it had anything to do with his birth.  There were no direct signs of damage, but there is no observable reason he struggles the way he does.

In the early days of Ben’s life, at a parenting class at CPI, I learned about doulas, what they do, and how to become one.  I contacted my childbirth education teacher who was also a doula, and realized it was a great fit for me.  A naturally nurturing person who loved babies and a growing interest in birth. I went to the training, and met C.  As soon as I met her, I knew I needed her to be with me at my next birth.  I also met L, who had a Cesarean, and went on to have her next baby, free of intervention, at home.  I became certified, and quickly attended my first 3 births I needed to become certified.  My fourth birth, and first homebirth I attended with my new and close friend L. It was a footling breech homebirth that was born safely and without incident. There was worship music, prayer, and an invitation for God to be there in our midst, and to allow GOD to be the one to bring this baby into the world safely and naturally. The birth was more like a spiritual experience then any birth I had ever been at.  Christian midwife, and christian couple, the birth was amazing, and I would not know for many years how important this birth would be.  After that birth, I also knew I would need THAT midwife to support me during my next birth.  I remember the post partum appointment, saying goodbye to the midwife, saying, “I’ll talk to you next time I’m pregnant”. Little did I know, I was already pregnant.

I planned a HBAC a homebirth VBAC (Vaginal birth after Cesarean).  I became a part of the local online VBAC support group run by my friend L.  I was also part of an awesome thriving doula group, led by my doula trainer C., who was also set to be with me for the upcoming birth of my second son, Elijah.  Throughout the pregnancy, I focused all my energy on having a VBAC.  My due date came, and that night, I had the first signs of labor, a contraction, and mucus.  Over the next few days, I had many contractions, with each one, I thanked God for the natural process of labor since all my contraction with Benjamin had been forced by Pitocin.   The pains were focused in my back, and we quickly realized the baby was posterior, and he was not budging.  I had a chiropractor over to the house, and my doula Connie and my midwife Claudette spent a lot of time over at my house those 4 days.  Finally labor picked up, my water broke. Laine came from Sacramento to be another support person and take photos,  and I started to progress. But after being 9cm with a lip that I could not move my baby past for 6 plus hours, the call was made to go to the hospital.  I got an epidural, and we waited.  The epidural only really numbed half of my body, and I was stuck in bed.  After many hours of no progression, but a healthy strong heartbeat. My doula and homebirth midwife that had come with me to the hospital made the call to try and turn the baby manually.  They helped me get to my hands and knees, all 260 lbs of me with a very numbing epidural, it was no small task.  As my midwife turned him from the inside, my doulas turned him from the outside. IT worked! I was finally 10cm.  I started pushing at around 5pm.  After pushing for around 4 hours, with still much back pain, I delivered my son vaginally, with the slight help of a Vacuum,  all 9lbs 12oz of him.  That was Elijah.  It was wonderful, and I was so thankful to have had him the way I wanted, even though the journey there had been different then I planned. The support and care I received from my doulas, homebirth midwife, and hospital midwife was amazing.  I however was terrified of ever going through that again, and did not get pregnant again for 3 years.

Okay, so I guess I am not going to be brief. 🙂 When I got pregnant with my third, I was filled with fear of the birth process.  So scared that things would go the same way they did with Elijah.  My dad and sister bought me the hypnobabies program for birth, and I studied and practiced diligently after 30 weeks.  The BEST thing it did was take away my fear, and actually cause me to look forward to the birth experience.  It helped me learn to relax in a way I had never done before.  Again, the day after his due date, I had the first sign of labor, bloody show.  36 hours later, my contractions started to become regular at about 5am on May 4th.  They were regular, but only 8-10 minuets apart all day .  I relaxed through them, and they were not that bad at all.  My husband cleaned the house, and I breathed, rested, and we even took a walk together in the afternoon. By 8 ocolock they were still only 10 minuets apart, and I was not looking forward to a full night of them being so far, and keeping me awake but not progressing.  So my midwife and I agreed I would take a few ounces of Castor Oil to get things moving faster.  I took the oil at 8:30, by 9pm the midwife was there to check on my progress, and to my absolute surprise I was already 7cm dialated!! Laine was on her way from Sacramento, and my mom was on her way from Southern Cal. Doula Connie got there about midnight.  All was good to go. My mom, sister Mira and Laine got there about 11, and that’s when things go serious.  My contractions did speed up, and got hard.  My hypnobabies training went out the window at this point, as things were just too intense to relax through them. The last few hours of birth were hard, I lost faith, when baby started to try to turn posterior, I started to lose hope.  I started becoming negative Nelly being SURE that his birth was going to be the same as E’s.  Getting stuck at 9cm, and a hospital transfer.  My mind was so sour, so rotten in so many ways.  I opened to 9cm, I opened, to 9.5cm……. I was sure that was it.  I was whining and complaining.  Asking people to take me to the hospital, and saying I wanted an epidural. I needed a lot of emotional support from my amazing doulas and midwife during this time.  I was a being a big baby.  My water broke, and finally, finally my midwife said I could get in the labor/birth tub.  I had not been allowed in there until baby was secured in a good position.  I went to get in, lifting my leg over to get it over the edge, and at that moment, a contraction hit, I squatted at the side of the tub, and with that, M’s head came half way out and crowned!! He’s coming I yelled, so excited that it was actually happening. My mind said it would never happen, and then it DID!! I pushed only a few times in the squat position and his head was all the way out.  After that I totally lost the pushing instinct, and felt like I didn’t know how.  My midwife helped get him all the way out by hooking her finger under his shoulder and helping him come out. He slipped out, and needed a little encouragement to cry and pink up, but he did, and he was such a beautiful rich pink/purple color for days! It was amazing. He was a huge baby with a huge head, 15.25 inches. My midwife has since said that she has only delivered 3 babies out of her 1000’s of babies with bigger heads.  And he came out with little fan fare and only 10 minuets of pushing.  A far different story then Baby E.  My mind said no way, my body said, “Uh Huh!” Such a good lesson.  One that I wished I would have remembered more during Hannah’s birth, when again my mind went to Elijah’s long and hard labor.

After this baby, we were done.  I knew during my pregnancy that he would be my last.  3 boys, and I was happy with that.  I would have had 10 babies, but finances, and physical and emotional reserves, especially from my husband said we were done.  About 4 years later, my husband had a bit of a vision, and said, “who was he to stop God’s plan for our life, and that if we were blessed with a baby in our later years, then who was he to say God’s plan was not a good one.” But with Ben’s increasing Seizures, he changed his mind, and really did not think another baby was a good idea.  My heart had been changed though.  I was fine being done, until he said that, and then I thought we could have one more.  After years of going back and forth about whether or not we would have another, I got my IUD out. Not to have another baby, but because it was supposed to be a 5 year IUD, and it had been 5 and half years,  and I was having some weird hormonal responses to the end of the IUD.  I read much of the book, “taking charge of your fertility” and was committed to letting my body work as it was designed to, to allow my uterus to become lined and ready for pregnancy, and then to avoid pregnancy by careful planning, and then to let it flow.  We did this successfully for 5 months.  On the 6th month I thought I was a pro, and I had this natural family planning thing down, but I couldn’t stand the wondering every month if we had gotten in right or not, and wondering if I could be pregnant.  I decided it was time to do something permanent, to prevent pregnancy, and focus on and love the boys I had, and probably start doing foster care, and give love and a home to those who did not have one.  It was too late, that very month I found out I was pregnant.  I was scared, but so excited and happy.  Jason was terrified.

This pregnancy was very different, I was sick, real true morning sickness from week 6 to week 10.  I was pretty miserable.  I was trying hard to work out and not lose all the fitness and weight loss I had worked so hard to achieve over the previous 2 years. But all I wanted was carbs!! I gained weight fast. It was an emotional pregnancy.  I was sure it was another boy, because all the signs said girl, and that just couldn’t be right.  When I was 16 weeks pregnant, I had an early elective ultrasound and the tech said girl. I couldn’t believe it. The 20 week anatomy ultrasound confirmed girl, and I started to settle in to the fact that our unexpected, unplanned baby would in fact we a daughter.  So wild.  A girl after 3 boys…… it felt like the whole world was excited.  I was not scared of labor this time.  I was almost excited. I couldn’t believe I got to do it again, especially after teaching about labor and birth for the previous 2 years, I was excited to use all the things I had taught so many moms to do.  I would have the same birth team as Micah and Elijah…. Claudette the midwife, and Connie and Laine for doulas.  I did co care at Kaiser too, but felt very strange there, because there were a lot of people at Kaiser who did not like the fact that I had homebirths, homebirth VBAC’s at that, and taught their patients hospital childbirth classes.  I love my job at Kaiser, and have had  hard time with the ill feelings towards me based on my personal birth choices, and always went out of my way not to share with my students that I did it at home.  In fact, I straight up lied to them.

Anyway, I continued to do bootcamp and work out through 7.5 months pregnant, I felt great, despite the fact that the weight was piling on.  That part was emotionally difficult.  There were a lot of stresses during my pregnancy, a lot of them stemming from Bens bad seizures, and how we could handle a newborn AND Ben.  Elijah and Micah were super excited. They wanted it to be a girl so bad. We talked about it every day. We included Hannah in our prayers, and she was part of the family before she was ever born.  So many times, the boys said, while I was pregnant, that having a sister was the best thing that ever happened to them, now that she is here, they still say that.  It is beautiful. We chose the name Hannah Joy, in 2001, when we were very first pregnant with Benjamin.  That would be his name, were he a girl.  At first, I didn’t want to name her Hannah, but one day, while talking about it at work, (Mary’s pizza shack), I had a distinct vision of a woman, about 20, with long dark hair, standing on a hill, with long flowing hair. She was beautiful, she was our daughter, and her name…. was Hannah Joy Sanders.  I still see her.  When I worry about Hannah’s health, I see her, it’s as if God gave me this vision to keep reminding me, during my many, many moments of fear, that Hannah was fine, and she would grow up, and be with us.   The Joy part of her name, comes from a girl I met right after Jason and I got engaged.  On a trip from Florida to Ca, where I was helping my dads mom Jessie move from Florida to Ca, we met her on a plane. The plane ride was horrible, full of missing a flight, a man having a seizure on a the plane, and a very cranky Grandma Jessie.  But Joy was this young Christian girl who had just gotten back from her YWAM missions trip in florida.  She was like an angel to me. She was so sweet, and helpful. We stayed in touch for a few years, but lost touch. Wonderfully, she found me on facebook a few years ago, we have been able to stay in touch during that time. But in 2001, she was just a memory, and there was part of me who wondered if she wasn’t really and angel, who was sent to help me and encourage me in my faith during that difficult trip.

Okay, finally getting to the birth, I will start this in my next post.

Home school drop out…

Well, it’s for sure now.  I’m the worst teacher alive.  Okay, okay, maybe not alive, but honestly, I don’t know how you people do it.  We gave it a try, a good try.  We learned, we moved, we survived……. but we are done.  There have been some good moments…… but mostly I yelled, the boys fought, and then I cried.  It has not been good.  And yeah, yeah, I’m giving up quick.  I didn’t go the whole year like I had said, but honestly, I don’t feel like I can stand even one more day.  And if your shaking your head at me, with the, “I knew she couldn’t do it” wag of disapproval.  Or maybe your thinking, “If she would only try harder” Here are my reasons, (For you and for me to write out and feel right about)

Why I did decided to homeschool:  I want the BEST for my kids.  THE BEST.  They deserve it, and that’s what I want for them.  So once we entered private school, private Christian school, I realized…… wow, now THIS is the best for them.  But as most know, we have to make real choices about whether or not that BEST is in your budget.  Once Hannah was born, we knew we had to do something else, and make THAT the best.

I have a few friends that homeschooled, friends I adore, respect, and who encouraged me in the option. I read studies and heard friends who said, the kids who were homeschooled were some of the only kids growing up that remained Christians…. all that’s important to me.  I saw stuff that goes on in the world, stuff in 5th grade, and it terrified me.  I am terrified of my kids getting into the wrong crowds, and making bad decisions.  Yep, it’s true, I’m a control freak.  I want to micromanage them until they can’t make one bad decision.  It’s not reality, but it’s what I want.  Plus…. I REALLY WANTED TO BE THAT MOM!!  You know, the Mom who puts her family at SUCH a high priority that she spends her days teaching them.  I wanted to spend more time with them, and have them around when Hannah was a newborn baby, because I knew they would love that. I wanted to be able to spend time with them, when Benjamin was NOT home, so I could spend some focused time with them, without worrying about where and what Ben was up to.  I wanted to not only KNOW what they were learning, but to be very involved with it.  Some of these great things were accomplished……. and I’m glad for the experience, but there are more compelling reasons it DOES NOT work……. and why we need to stop ASAP.

So why did I decide to give up on homeschool: Because I want THE BEST for my kids.  They deserve the best, and I want to get that for them.  Even though I thought it would be the BEST for them

First and foremost, I’m too chaotic.  I am not taking the time to LEARN the material first, to teach it to them.  Micah that is not an issue, but with Elijah it is.  Sure, I learned about it 25 years ago, but to learn in order to teach is a whole nother story.  Because of this, there is a lot of yelling and frustration, not only on my part of not being able to impart what I already know to Elijah, but he’s frustrated because he doesn’t get it.  Elijah is a honor roll student with top of the charts test scores. But what I am seeing, is a boy who doesn’t care about a test, unless he’s competing with someone for a grade. When he competes, he tries hard.  When he doesn’t, he doesn’t try hard, but still beats himself up when he doesn’t do well. That killed me.  When he would beat himself up, I felt like a failure, and tended to get so frustrated, I yelled. Yep, that’s right, me…… I yelled.  What do you know, I CAN’T do it all.  Everyone say’s, “Your amazing” for homeschooling, with a newborn. I’m not amazing, maybe desperate, but not amazing.

Here is where I got to with Elijah, he’s a smart kid. Too smart, and I wasn’t seeing that smart kid in homeschool.  No amount of time, and counsel and learning the ropes would take away the fact that he learns best with competition and companionship.  Maybe it’s because he’s been in regular school up to this point, he is learned, that that is what drives him.  He was doing great in school, and that’s not why I took him out.  He also does great socially.  He’s very sensitive, yes.  I was scared of my overly sensitive boy having to deal with the real world outside of the bubble I still wish I could keep him in. But part of his learning, is being social, and part of being social, is being sensitive to the world around him.  I loved school. I did.  Because of the social aspects of it, and also because I had some amazing teachers that taught me amazing things, in the classroom, and out.  I had many different teachers, who influenced me in a different way, and for that I am thankful.  I know sending him back to school, non Christian school, there will be teachers and kids that influence him in a way that I wish he wasn’t.  That is something we are going to need to work through, and around.  But trust me when I say, I will be involved.  I am not the parent who shy’s away from the difficult conversations, because it’s hard to talk to him about it.  I’m already driving him crazy saying he has to talk to me about what the songs he likes to listen to on the pop music stations are REALLY talking about.  If he wants to listen to it, he needs to talk to me about what it’s about.  Usually…….. SEX…… and DRUGS.  He HATES talking to me about that stuff, especially sex.  Of course he say’s, he already knows all about it.  My response: You know all about it as a 10 year old who listens to pop music and hears jokes by friends about it……. but I need to tell you what they are REALLY talking about. The kind of sex, and drinking, and dehumanizing that destroys a person and a family.  Okay, I digress, but really, I will not just sit back and let the culture engulf him.  We will take this ride together, and learn about the world……. together.

He is REALLY excited to go back to school.  Several times last year, if he had a problem with doing his homework, or an issue with a friend, he would ask to be homeschooled. Well, now he knows that homeschool is not about getting out of fights and school work, it’s about only having one person to fight with, (his brother), and only one main teacher to learn from, (me), who he and I agree is not the best at it.

Which leads me to another reason I’m done with homeschool.  Micah and Elijah, who previously were good friends, and loved eachother most of the time, do nothing but fight now.  They are together too much, and Micah doesn’t really understand that they are at very different stages in their lives.  6 and 10 is a HUGE difference.  My baby boy Micah, is nothing like a baby. He doesn’t play with toys, and all he ever wants to do, is exactly what Elijah is doing.  If Elijah is home, he doesn’t want to go on a walk, scooter ride, bike ride, or anything else with me…… if Elijah doesn’t want to.  He doesn’t want to color, or make projects, or play with playdough……. because Elijah doesn’t want to.  If Elijah doesn’t want to do it, it must be bad or stupid, or so his 6 year old mind tells him.  No son! Elijah doesn’t want to do it because he’s 10! He DID like that stuff when he was 6, but there is no convincing him.  Because Elijah has been in school a long time already, he has lots of friends, who like to do lot’s of 10 year old things.  Micah, he has friends, and is very likable, but seems to gravitate more towards Elijah’s friends.  When your in Kindergarten, you don’t really have the same kind of friends as you do in 4th grade.  He doesn’t have close friends he has over for playdates, and talks to on the phone.  Well, he does now, but they are all 10.  When Elijah would get invited over to a friends house, but Micah wasn’t, he would have a fit!! There are kids houses I’m fine with Elijah going over to, but not Micah.  And that is NEVER a good scene.  He doesn’t have the same sense of making good decisions, wise decisions, as Elijah does.  Paritally, because they are different kids, and he tends to look up to these older boys and wants to please them, so he does and says things he shouldn’t say, I think in order to look, “cool” and “mature”.  I’m sooooo done with that.  I want Micah to be 6.  To play six year old games, and to do 6 year old things.  I want him to bring home his art project and excitedly tell me about it, rather then bucking the whole idea all together because his sole play mate, and the person he looks up to more then anyone in the world isn’t so much into art projects.  Micah IS into art, he loves it, and is good at it…….. as long as he’s given the opportunity and Elijah is not around.

The moment I realized Micah had not done one Christmas art project home for me to oogle and oggle at, I knew he needed to be back in the classroom.  I wish I was like that, setting up adorable Santa’s with googily eyes, and photo ornaments to hang on the tree, but I’m not. That’s what 1st grade teachers are for.  And he is really lacking in that, whether he knows it or not.  I wish I was all things, I wish I was THAT kind of Mom. But I’m not.  As much as I enjoy this idea about me as the quintessential wonderful mother, I don’t really get it.   I’m good at one thing and one thing only when it comes to parenting…….. Love.  I love these kids like every moment I have with them is important and treasured.  I also think I am good spiritual shepherd for them, and that I will continue to be. But art teacher, reading teacher, math teacher, science teacher, history teacher, and experiment doer, (no way), I am not.

So back to school we go.  I’m actually thrilled, and so are they. We got one of the top 3 fifth grade teachers at the school by anyone’s standards, a friend in the class, and a child who’s bouncing and anxious to go back, even if it’s not his precious, wonderful Christian school he’s grown accustomed to. In our heart or hearts, we will still always think of a way to get back to Windsor Christian, because we had such a great experience there, but right now, financially, it’s just not phesable.  We also got the all time best 1st grade teacher for Micah at Maddie, and others at the school who are more then glad to see his return.  And well, I might have a little time to unpack, and maybe even exercise, maybe even enjoy my baby girl, and hey……… enjoy my kids again.   I have learned so much along the way.  I honor and applaud those who homeschool works for, I know it’s not easy for you either, and you have made it work.  You are AMAZING.  But for us, I’m smart enough to see, and see quickly, that it’s not a good fit.  I really don’t want to spend another few months plugging away at this when I know in the end, it’s not what is the right thing for my kids.  Elijah who has many friends at the school already from baseball, will have a good core group of kids to go into Middle school with next year. Will it all be perfect and just the way I in-vision it? No, most definitely not. Nothing and no one is perfect outside of Jesus Christ himself.  But we will do it together, a strong knit family who loves each other and loves God and God’s ways.  Trust me, if I could keep my family in a close knit bubble, and never let any harm possibly come near them, I would, but that’s not a reality, and one I have to deal with.  Thanks for reading, love you, all of you.

Life with a Princess & 3 Little Princes

We had a lot of fears going into Hannah’s birth.  As her birth came later and later, the fears increased. I worked hard to stay healthy, exercising and eating as well as I could, in hopes of ensuring a faster, easier and on time birth.  For some reason Hannah wanted to stay in longer, and we did a lot of natural things to get her labor moving and her on her way. Labor did finally start, and I had her 13 days past her EDD, perfect, pink, crying right away, and NOT 10 lbs.  She was an angel right from the start.  Alert, and awake most of that first day, taking in all around her.

I was a good girl and actually stayed in bed and did not go downstairs for 48 hours after she was born, my pastor and his wife, (who was also one of my Doulas) came later that day with Chick-fil-A. And it was amazing. My husband and mom took care of everything else, and I just got to sit and stare at my little girl all day and night. She slept well through the night since day one.  She wakes, but only to eat, and goes right back to sleep.

Nursing has been a dream this time around.  I used coconut oil on my nipples, which I think made a huge difference in pain. Hannah’s latch has been great since the moment I put her to breast, (about 2 minuets after birth).  I can say that I finally enjoy nursing.  I have never really been able to say that before.  It was always been hard and painful, but I always stuck with it.  Not this time, it has been amazing. My milk came in at record speed at around 36 hours after birth, and although I had a few days of engorgement, it didn’t last long.

My mom stayed for a full week after Hannah was born, and that was awesome, as she and my amazing husband Jason did all the housework and taking care of the other boys. On day 4, I had to go to the ER, because although I was recovering well from birth, I have bad varicose veins in my legs, and they were getting swollen and infected, something that happens after birth sometimes. I was worried about a clot, but all looked fine, and I was told I should expect pain and swelling for 6-8 weeks, but within a week it was much better, and by 2 weeks totally gone.  She is a great eater, and was back to her birth weight in a few days.  She never had a chance to lose much, since my milk came in so fast.

Within a few days, I was back homeschooling again.  Jason wasn’t able to take much work off, so after my mom left, it was all me again.  But, being my fourth time around this new mommy thing, although it was hard, we made it work.

Elijah and Micah are in love, not just in love, infatuated.  They love her so much, and especially Micah stayed close by at all times.  They are so amazing with her. Benjamin, although he didn’t show much interest at first, has warmed up to her very nicely. He seems to really like her, and has made many sweet gestures towards her.

Ben’s seizures have been well under control too, which is a HUGE blessing. That was one of our big fears, dealing with his seizures, and Hannahs birth and newborn phase at the same time. We are praising God, and so thankful for the blessing of less and less seizures.  We have seen this before, so we are not holding our breaths for it to continue, but still, very thankful for the reprieve.

At 6 weeks, we are very much back in the swing of life.  Homeschool is getting easier, and there are many blessings and great things about it, as well as some hard frustrating things. But glad we made the leap, and although my days are more full then ever, they are full of holding, nursing, and cuddling my newborn princess, and spending time with and actually teaching, (they are actually learning stuff) my two younger boys. Still not sure if this will be something we do for only this year, or continue, but for now, it’s working. Yes, I have much less time for me, but I feel so valuable and important in my new role.  There is nothing like putting all your energy into your family that God has blessed you with, it fulfills me in every way.

At 6 weeks, Hannah is still sleeping great though the night.  And for the first time, co-sleeping is working for me.  Which I think is why the nights seem so easy. She wakes to eat, yes, but then once she latches, she’s back out and so am I.  I don’t even feel sleep deprived! How crazy is that? The boys would wake and fuss or having a hard time latching at night. I would have to get up, sit up, and usually rock or nurse them all the way back to sleep, before getting back to sleep myself. She does have a “witching hour” in which she cannot be put down, or have anyone else hold her, in the evenings, which has made making dinner and helping Jason with getting the boys down to sleep harder.  But we were provided a meal every other day for almost a month, which was a HUGE blessing.

The hardest thing about Hannah Joy is that she is very, very attached to me.  She doesn’t settle or sleep well for anyone but me, including daddy.  She’s SUCH a boobie baby.  Which makes us all worry about me going back to teaching a few nights a week come December.  But, like tonight, I went out to workout, (my ME time), and daddy had her with a bottle of pumped milk. It was hard, but they survived, and we know we have to have many practice nights before I leave for 3 plus hours at a time.

Hannah is truly my Joy. The boys say all the time she is the best thing that ever happened to them. She has been smiling since 2 days old, (real, awake, in response to your face smiles) which honestly I never even knew was possible. She is happy and full of  pure Joy.  She might be the most loved baby ever, with not only her family loving her, but so many others who have awaited her arrival and celebrate her life with me.

I have enjoyed dressing her up more then I thought I would, girls clothes are so stinking cute.  It’s almost hard for me to put pants on her….. LOL…. after my three boys.

I want to take the time to tell those of you who have made it to the end of this, thank you.  It brings me joy and fulfills my over active social mind that you have all come on this journey with me. Also, thank you to my husband Jason, who has been along side me for this ride, and will be forever more.   And most thankful to God, my father, my savior, the lover of my soul.  For answering so many prayers, for giving me this gift of motherhood, not only to my awesome three boys, but now, my little princess angel. This “note” is mostly for me, as I am awful at journal writing, and love to document this precious time with my last baby, (unless we foster or adopt in the future).  I am so in love.