6 months of pure joy

Judah celebrated his 1/2 birthday with little fanfare.  A home video.  Some photos.  Hanging out at the house together.  No presents.  He is, after all, only 6 months old.  But I just can't tell you how much I love this boy!  I loved Cora from the day we found out we were pregnant, but when we lost a baby in between Cora and Judah, I was afraid to feel so deeply about him. I was terrified to lose him.  I oscillated between love and fear.  I did love him, but I didn't want to fill his journal up with thoughts of love for him, just to set it aside empty of any further words, with emptiness inside my heart.  It's a good thing God knows what we need.

 

Here he is, hollaring. He has lots to say.

He sent me the most stubborn, most joyful, "eating life" kind of baby imaginable and I am consumed with love for him.  He wakes with a smile for me, and then it's on to business with what we have come to call "the hungry hands".  He puts them in front of him and rubs them together.  Imagine a greedy miser at the sight of money.  That's it.  He used to do this little grunting noise as well, but he's given that up in favor of all out wailing if he doesn't get milk in. his. mouth. within seconds.  I took him in for his 6 month appointment on July 13th.  He's 18lb 5oz and in the 75th percentile for everything.  I tell ya.  He eats life!  (and everything else, apparently)

As for stubborn, it's not something that bothers me, but I can tell he will be strong willed.  Let's call it determination, shall we?  There is no distracting this child from something.  If he wants it, he WILL get it. Or at least try with every chubby ounce until Mama physically moves him or the thing away and out of site.  Then there is sadness.  Oh the sadness.  But it's sadness that quickly turns to joy (unless he's hungry) when I make silly noises or blow raspberries, a skill that I heard him practicing to himself for days until he got it and then he blew his little raspberries at me and anyone else who would give him a giggle.

He has learned to sit up by himself and give him another week and he just might learn to crawl.  Oh, heaven forbid!  We love, love, love him and I love the tender Mama moments I get with this wee chunk of a boy.  He is my little snuggler and I am soaking it all in.  One delicious day at a time.  Happy half birthday, wee man.

Tea for two and two for Tea

My sweet girl and I grab moments where we may.  It may just be 10 minutes out on the porch in the sun having tea with mama's real teapot (from England - thanks Tally!) and her Ikea teacups, but these little bits are precious.  She loves Judah, but the sting of lost Mama time is still there.  I see it when she's tired and wants me to 'get her' (carry her).  So we enjoy our blueberries and raspberry tea ('cause it's pink!) on a heart tablecloth in the sunshine while we may.  She is still, after all, my girl.

Tomorrow, belated (his 1/2 birthday was on the 12th) photos of my 6 month old, in all of his chubby, pink glory.

Through my daughter's eyes

I had a bit of an epiphany today.  Cora and I were watching a music video where the girl singing was all dressed up and looking beautiful, (Katy Perry - Firework.  I had been searching for fireworks photos for her) when she turned to me and said,"That's Mama singing!"
"It is?" I asked.
"Yes.  It's Mama singing," she answered adamantly.

Now let me just say, when I look in the mirror, I do not now, nor have I ever seen anything that resembles Katy Perry.  She is young and beautiful and I've never thought very much of the way I look.  But I realized as I put my little girl to bed, that in her eyes, I am beautiful and a great singer.  (And, apparently have a music video.)  I'm not gonna hem and haw about it, I know I can sing, but comparing me and a rock star?  Not even on my radar. 

Not so, to my little one.  In her eyes, I am that rock star.  It is inspiring.  It is beautiful.  I have a lot to live up to.  Apparently, I'm a firework.  And we all know how she feels about those.

Happy 4th of July!

After last year's "sparkly stars", we were determined to take Cora (and by default, Judah) to the fireworks for Independence Day.  So we packed up the kiddos, and dinner, and blankets and spent the day outside, enjoying friends and a wonderful cookout.  Then when the sun went down, we were treated to some beautiful fireworks and one of the sweetest scenes, as a mother, I've ever seen.  I took a video of Cora, in her Papa's lap, which is such a safe place, of when the first fireworks started to go, but it is far too big to upload here.  At the first one, her mouth dropped open and her hand came up to her mouth in absolute surprise.   I think she liked it.  (Judah did too!) The she and her Papa went to get a better view.  (and to unknowingly give me one of my favorite photos of them.  Ever.)  

So Happy Independence Day folks, and I just gotta say, I am so grateful to be living in this country!

The second EC baby!

Each family has their own way of potty training, and we practice EC, or Elimination Communication.  We did it with our first girl and loved the result, so we practice it again with our little guy.  It's much the same as before, but we had to learn how to aim him!  Now that he's on the big potty, this is not an issue. He just learned to sit up this week, so taking pictures was an exercise in speed, crowd control (Cora wants to be a part of it all), and anticipating his balance.  No one fell off the potty!  So here he is.  Cute, fat, pink, and on the potty.

A glorious day

These summer days are flying past.  We went to Texas for 2 weeks, saw my baby sister get married and now we have the same last name again!  (She married an Evans, but no relation to my Evans), and Judah has been breaking all previously held records around here in terms of eating, sleeping, growing, crawling, and sitting up. (of course, Cora was a preemie and a girl, so therein lies the main difference)  I think to myself that I'm drinking it in by not taking the time to write about it. I tell myself I'm "being present" and I am, but I am not capturing it in the way that I love to capture best, in words and pictures, so I hereby resolve to post more than once per month, or quarter or year, or whatever slacking I've been up to lately.

Thursday we spend the day at the "beach" and by beach I mean a lake beach, sand, but no ocean.  I was a little hesitant to go and since we only have one car it took some juggling, but we made it there by 10am and if this is any indication of how much fun we had, you should know that it was 3pm before we left.  Now that may not seem like a long day to most, but with a 2 year old and a 5 month old, it is no less than epic.  But it was by far the most enjoyable outing we have had.  To date.

I am not kidding!  Cora played with all of her friends and was very independent the entire time, but not in a way that made me nervous (like taking off for the deep water or eating cigarette butts...you know).  I was with the MOMS Club, so there was never a shortage of hands and voices to call or carry her back from any poor decisions, should she make them.  Judah enjoyed the water, ate without much fuss and then took a two and a half hour nap in the shade on the beach.  Two and a half hours, people!!  Not in his bed.  Epic.  I just can't say that word enough.  I had conversations with people,  none of us got sunburned, I didn't feel overwhelmed or wiped out, the summer sun was cooled off by a small cold front and it was actually COOL in the shade, Cora didn't throw a tantrum...I could just go on!  The. best. day.

Since the birth of our second child, these days have been scarce.  Or, dare I say, non-existent.  It hasn't been rough for awhile now, but it has been far from glorious and here it was, just perfect.  We intend to take the Papa Bear next week after work.  It was that good.  And now for photos.  I've cropped most of our friends out since they may or may not want their bathing-suited selves on the 'interwebs'. 

My sweet fat baby, wearing big sister's old swim diaper. We'll call it a "Speedo", shall we?  Just look at those fat thighs!

Getting her "Sea legs" while I feed the baby.

Sand and a plan.  Cora had a vision in mind and woe betide the toddler who stood in her way!  (We had a talk about that.)

Where she spent most of the day

Upon being told we had to leave, after only a mere 5 hours. :(

Tomorrow...an infant using the potty!  Good times.

April Showers...and a two year old

We had a lot of rainy days in April.  I understand it's a good thing and my garden is grateful for those precious drops from the sky, but when you are stuck at home with a girl who is WILD about being outside, it gets a bit tedious.  So we improvise.

My porch becomes a work of art...with little brother looking on.

And although I can't go stomp in puddles with a sniffly infant in arms, I can stand on the porch and watch my little girl explore and taste new freedoms.  All while equipped with outstanding rain gear (courtesy of Aunt Shiloh and 'Auntie' Lyn!).

The clouds may hang on for a bit longer, but these gray days can't get me down!  Not with these two around.

Boob Envy

Yes.  You read that right.  I have boob envy and I have it bad.  J-baby is 2 months old now and he is officially weaned.  And every time I see a friend (or stranger) nurse her baby, I feel a little lump in my throat.  I see women randomly on the street and the thought crosses my mind "I bet she could nurse HER babies".  And then I sigh, just a little inside.  This is the one thing, of all of the things I prayed for, that did not happen for me.   Not that you need to know all of this, but it's therapeutic to write it all out.  I was unable to nurse my Cora girl when she was born.  I was told I needed to pump more, that her latch was bad, that I wasn't relaxing enough to get a letdown for the pump, that she was too weak to nurse since she was a preemie.  On and on. I tried every technique, every herb I knew of, every drug.  I sacrificed sleep and pumped around the clock.  I had the lactation consultants on speed dial.  I literally drove myself insane.  And it didn't work.  Nothing worked. I had to be medicated for Postparum Depression (PPD) after the last drug I went on to promote lactation did nothing for me.  I was broken-hearted and DETERMINED that it would be different this time.

But it wasn't.  I had my full term baby, I had a VBAC (which somewhere in my head I had convinced myself that my C-Section effected my ability to nurse. It doesn't. It didn't.), I was DETERMINED to make it work.  Until I took my little son in for a weight check and he had lost a pound after 5 days.  I called a new lactation consultant and asked her every question and after another night of my little boy frantically trying to nurse for 3 hours and then falling asleep, I saw his behavior for what it truly was.  He was exhausted, not satisfied.  I took a bottle of formula in hand and I fed my son.  He gulped down every drop, burped contentedly, and then fell asleep, full and happy for the first time in his short little life. I cuddled him and sobbed.  Heart-wrenching sobs and was angry.  Angry at God.  Angry at my body.  Angry and broken.  I didn't understand why I couldn't have this.  I wasn't going to starve my son any more for the sake of my nursing pride, but WHY?!!  Why couldn't I have this one last thing?  And granted, I was 5 days postpartum and a hormonal mess, so this all felt way more intense.

I went to see the lactation consultant (a different one from the ones who I saw with Cora) and long story short, she took one look at me and told me she was surprised I could make any milk at all.  I had an organic problem.  I just don't have the glandular tissue I need.  It's a condition called Breast Hypoplasia and I'll let you google it.  Mine is a mild case and not at all like what I found when I searched for images. Yeep!

I felt such relief at having an answer!! I left her office with every (new) herb she recommended and started on meds (not the crazy making ones this time) to make everything work as much as it could with the full knowledge I would never make a full supply for my son, but I could give him what I had.  And then he got sick and refused to nurse, or eat at all since he couldn't breath and it was all downhill from there.  By the time he got better, I was down to the dregs and he was not happy about having to work so hard for his lunch.  I slowly let it go.

And I am still sad about it.  I can get angry if I think about it too much, since for years I've been seen by medical professionals who never once mentioned that this might be a problem, that there might be an underlying syndrome that I could possibly correct with medicine and weight loss.  And now here we are.  J-baby has donor milk from other mamas and formula and I have a little sigh in my heart when I think about it.  I don't hang out in that place.  I am grateful for the gifts I have been given with beautiful healthy children and for the most part, a healthy body. But there is a little sad part in my little mama heart that longs to feed my baby the way God intended a woman's body to work.  And writing it out helps me let it go a little more.  To find joy in the gifts I have been given and to be thankful for what I have (or don't have).  For at the heart of it is a plan that is bigger than mine.

Spring-ish

It's only March, so this warm weather is only a tease.  I know this from 10+ years of Nashville weather.  The moment I put something in the ground before April 15th, fickle Spring hides her face and the frost kills my young plants.  I've learned.  But this delicious breeze!  This warm sun!  This barefoot babies on the playground day!  I've been fooled before and I may get fooled again. 

I haven't been capturing the days on 'film', but just drinking them in, and often sitting, totally overwhelmed while a small one sleeps on my chest and my other (still small in my heart) one runs and plays and attempts things I never thought she'd try.  It's funny how having mama's hands full all the time prompts new independence.  And new sadness.  'I need you Mama' is what she says about 50 (thousand?) times a day to me.  She can't express why she needs me, or what she needs me for, but truthfully, I know she needs me to find time for her when she is the only thing in my arms and not get half hugs while I hold my darling, but still extremely needy son.  I can't help but think of a wise friend's words to me as I stood crying in my dining room.  My heart has expanded to hold both of these darling babies, but my hands have not multiplied.  By default, I cannot hold them both and I feel it.  The return of the sun from waking until nearly sleeping helps me deal with this dilemma much better than the gray and cold days of January when I first brought this bundle home, but still, the longing to give my daughter the time she craves and still spend my days drinking in the smiles and coos of this little boy. 

But the garden calls me.  The snakes are already taking up residence in my irises.  I've been working on getting wee man to lay on a blanket and be OK with that.  Maybe under an umbrella while we prepare the soil for plants.  I set aside the nagging thoughts that my time would be bette spent keeping up with the laundry or vacuuming the hideously dog hair covered rug, or planning or grocery trip or...or...or...or...

Nope.  I ignore the or's and dig in the dirt.  Or at least plan to, even if I haven't begun.  Yet.

Lent and Love

I've given up sugar for Lent and let me tell ya, I am not a happy girl.  I willingly admit I am a junkie and crave sugar all the time.  We don't keep sweets in the house because I will eat them in a day, but give me about 10 minutes and I could rustle something up from the ingredients we have!  I'm not being super hard core and checking every label, but if it tastes sweet, I am not eating it.  (I might have to add ketchup to that list since after 5 days of no sugar, it tastes like tomato syrup to me)  I'm not sure how long the detox period will last, but for now, I'm not through it.  The headaches are the worst.

Couple this with the fact that I am doing some serious praying and reading about love, Christ's love for us, among other types and I've got quite the mix on my hands.  I might have just lost my mind.  Showing love, or being mindful of how loving I am when I am on edge and jonesing for something sweet might just be the stupidest plan I've ever undertaken.  So here I am, day 5 and praying for the strength to walk away from my daughter's animal crackers, and biting back all of the angry and ugly words that want to come spilling out of me in response to denying myself my favorite drug.  Not that anyone is being particularly annoying.  Just me, a detoxing junkie over here. 

But that is the purpose of Lent, for me right now, to deny myself a physical pleasure that I may focus on the sacrifice of Christ.  In that way, in my own very small way, I hope to get a glimpse of His sacrifice.  Not that giving up sugar is like giving up one's life, but maybe I can just touch the edge of the thought, and hold it in my mind, in between diapers and feedings and the never ending demands of a newborn and 2 year old who are on conflicting schedules.  Maybe for long enough to understand Love a little more.  I hope so. 

Harried Mamas, Rejoice! There is online grocery shopping! (no fee this week)

It is 7:30 am and I just finished what would normally be the hardest part of my (current) hardest household chore: grocery shopping, and I'm still in my p.j.s.  IN FACT, I'm still in bed!  What? Yes. In bed.  Laptop on my lap and groceries ordered.  Online.  I'll pick them up at lunch time, but for now, someone else is doing my actual grocery shopping.  The best part: I'm not dreaming.

Yes, harried Nashvegas mamas, this service actually exists!!  For a mere $4.95, you can have this service. A friend told me about this service a long time ago, but I didn't think it was for me.  Now with being at home with our 2 year old and newborn, I figured I'd give it a shot.  What did I have to lose?  And now, I'm hooked!

The Pros:
- I don't have to get me, a baby and a 2 year old dressed, think about what I need all while wandering down aisles telling my 2 year old that everything she can reach is 'not for you' and 'put it back' and 'don't touch, please'. All while either wearing the baby in a carrier or stuffing groceries in around his car seat while he sleeps.
- I stick to my list and I am not tempted to impulse buy.  Let's face it.  When I'm hungry, tired and faced with Little Debbies, I can hardly resist.  But this way, it's not right there, on sale, calling me and telling me that chocolate will make my sleep deprivation crabbiness and raggedness all disappear like magic.
- I can plan my menu for 2 weeks in advance, fill my 'cart' with what I need and then 'check out'.  Then I drive to the store, ring the buzzer and my 'personal shopper' brings out my stuff (to the car) and then puts it IN MY CAR.  I then swipe my bank card, or hand over my check and then I drive away.  It's practically magical!  No one had to get out of their car seat.  Not one had to convince a 2 year old that they REALLY do have to hold hands in a parking lot.  Nope.  That's it.  I'm done!
- I can add things to my virtual cart as I go and then save it.  The weekly specials and sales items are all there for me to see and I can sort my list by brand, price, unit price, sale items etc, etc. 
- I can send my sweet Geek to the store for me and know that he will come home with what is on my list and not something else because he couldn't find what I wrote down and so bought cocoa crispies instead.  (Love you, Honey!)
- I can search by key word and it will bring up all of the items with that word in it, cutting down on search time.
- I can save a list as a starter for items that are staples at our house. You just go to the list and select from the list of things you usually buy and add them to your 'cart'.

Cons
- The only chain of grocery stores that offer this service locally is Harris Teeter, which I generally don't shop at because they tend to be more pricey than my local Kroger. (but with savings from not impulse buying that bag of clearance Christmas chocolate, it evens out pretty well)
- Like every new grocery store, its a little bit of a learning curve to find what we normally eat at a whole new place, and in the categories offered on all internet grocery stores.  (Peanut butter is a 'condiment or sauce'.  Who knew!)  Add the tiny online pictures as my only guide and sometimes I end up with weird things like 3 oz of Parmesan cheese, which is a tiny can!!  I had no idea how many oz. our usual parm cheese purchase was for.  Learning!!
- The three locations that offer the 'Express Lane' service are in Belle Meade, Brentwood, and Franklin.  So it's a bit of a drive.  It's 15 minutes door to door for the Brentwood location.  But considering how long I'd normally spend at the store (typically an hour or more, if it's a big trip), the trade off is pretty worth it.
- You can use coupons, but they apply them to your next order, so you gotta buy more to get your savings.  Not crazy about this feature, but we are not huge couponers, so it's not a problem.
- There is a fee.  However, the fee is pretty reasonable at $4.95.

How it works:
1. Head over to the Harris Teeter Express Lane website and sign up.  You can also link your Harris Teeter VIC card, but that is separate.  Be sure you actually register for the 'Express Lane' login so you can save your cart.
2. Shop!  Add things to your cart at your leisure. Be sure to save your cart so you can come back to it.  If your cart mysteriously empties between visits to the website, just click 'view last cart' and it should bring up what you had.  If you want, as you go, add things to your 'starter list' so your next trip to the website will be even shorter.
3. Click on 'check out' and let them know if you will be paying by credit card or check.  You don't actually pay online.  You pay the cashier who comes out to load your stuff.
4. If you forgot something, you have an hour to log back in and add it to your list.  You can also call and tell them to add something.
5. Select your pickup time.  I usually order the day before and select an early pick up time, but you just need a lead time of 4 hrs in advance to pick up same day.
6. Drive to the store (of your choice) and look for the pickup buzzer lane, ring the bell, have someone load your car, swipe your card or hand over your check and do a little happy dance.
7. Drive home!  You are done!  They even split up the groceries into 'frozen', 'refrigerated', and 'non refrigerated', so I can bring in the stuff that needs to get into the fridge or freezer right now and get the giant package of toilet paper when everyone is down for a nap.


This week only (2/23/11-3/1/11) Harris Teeter is waving the fee!  You can place as many orders as you like and pay no fee.  What a great way to try out this service!  By the way, I am not affiliated with H.T. nor do I get paid to write this post. I am just so excited about a service that makes my Stay At Home Mom chore list just a bit shorter and easier, allowing me more time with my sweet babies.

Edited to add:  This week (8/8/12) is super double coupon week at Harris Teeter!  If you play your coupons right it could be a lot of savings (on your next order).

Viral what? Happy one month, baby!

Judah was one month old on Saturday and we spent Saturday night in the E.R.  The little wee man caught Cora's cold and couldn't cough it up like she could.  It became hard for him to breath and after several calls to the doctor, we took him in at 10pm.  Luckily my mama was here to be with Cora!

After much watching and some brutal looking nasal suction of the poor wee man's nose, we were admitted to the hospital at 2:30am.  I sent Matt home to get some sleep and I camped out in the E.R. room on a cot until they had a bed for us upstairs at 5am (I slept about and hour and half total).  Judah had stopped eating in favor of concentrating on breathing, so he got on i.v. put in his tiny hand to keep him hydrated.  Finally upstairs in the Children's Hospital, we got a little more rest.  Matt and I switched out and I tried to take a nap at home, but how could I nap with my tiny baby in the hospital?

I headed back napped a little there, where I could keep and eye on him.  They weren't hopeful that we'd get out that day, but he made a turn for the better, and by that evening they sent us home.  Hurrah!  Judah is on the mend and sounds much, much, much better now (no wheezing, no crackles).  When I took him in to his pediatrician for a follow-up he said that what he had was a form of viral pneumonia.  I'm glad they didn't say that word to me while we were in the hospital.  I might have lost it.  It's such a big scary word to be applied to such a wee little boy.  So that was his one month birthday.  I'm glad we made it through!  Now everyone keep their colds to themselves, will ya!  Sheesh!

Like Mama - for better or worse

These wee ones are with me 24/7 and like it or not, for better or worse, they want to be 'Like Mama'.  My 2 year old says that quite a lot.  And the baby? Well, he just wants to be in Mama's arms. Cora has been wanting to carry her baby like I carry my baby so today, in about 15 minutes, I disassembled an old belt and made her a ring sling, just like Mama.  She picked the purple butterflies fabric out herself from my scrap fabric stash. Now if I could only keep them from picking up my...ahem...less desirable qualities.

And for good measure, the sweetest wee baby boy, who has been the subject of decidedly less photos than his sister as I spend most of my time enjoying him, or chasing after said big sister!

We are all kinda enamored with the little guy. :)

Judah's Birth - A Beautiful VBAC Story

It was 5 am when I woke to contractions on January 11th, 2011. I lay there, wondering if this was the real thing.  After all, for a week or so I had been having regular spells of time-able, but painless, contractions. I got up in the dark and went downstairs.  As I passed the side door, I saw snowflakes falling in the pink light of our neighbor's street light.   Hmm.  That worried me a bit.  Nashville tends to shut down at the slightest flake.  We had already had some snow, but it had seemed to be clearing out the day before. 

I put a load of laundry in, ate a little breakfast and just as daylight began to show, I went back to bed and whispered to Matt that this might be the day.  For being half awake, he took it surprisingly well!  I assured him we had a long journey ahead of us, so rest up.  Twenty minutes later, our daughter woke up and wanted out of her bed.  So much for sleep!

The hours of the morning passed quickly with packing and laundry and getting Cora off to a friend's house, each passing 5 minutes punctuated by a contraction.  Around noon, my contractions got to be 2 and a half minutes apart and we decided to head to the hospital.  We were so excited and I was all dressed and showered.  We really thought this was it!

Four discouraging hours later, we were sent home.  My contractions all but stopped when they put me on my back to be monitored.  I was only 1 cm dilated.  Frustrated and hurting, I was told that this was only 'first grade' and to come back when I was in 'fourth grade'.  I disagreed, but what could I do!  I had all the right signs at home, but on my back in the hospital, it looked a lot like false labor.  As soon as I got up and began getting dressed, the contractions piled back on and by the time I got home, they were 4 minutes apart again.  We were both angry and frustrated. I got in the tub to labor and Cora came back home.  A friend came to watch her and spend the night should we need to go back in and my Doula, Angel, came over.  We put Cora to bed and then Angel sent Matt to the store and then to bed while she timed and helped me manage my contractions.  I tried to sleep, but woke for every contraction and then fell back to snoring and dreaming in between.  At 10 or 11 pm, I woke up and told Angel we needed to go back. I was tired of hurting and wanted to go to the hospital.  Surely it was time now!  My contractions were 6 minutes apart, but lasted one and a half to two minutes, each.

This time I arrived at the hospital raggedy and exhausted, wearing my robe and P.J.s.  We entered the garage but the elevators we had used hours earlier were closed for security reasons.  We had a time just finding our way into the building!  Matt absconded a rolling office chair from somewhere to push me in so I didn't have to walk (my sweet hubs!).

This time, I refused to lay down to be monitored (I stayed standing up, 'dancing' with Matt through each contraction) and the contractions stayed strong and close together. (4 minutes) Sadly I had only progressed from 1cm to 3cm.  By this time, it was midnight on Tuesday. (19 hrs had passed)  The hospital didn't 'admit' me, but the put me in a room and gave me some pain killers via i.v. for 'therapeutic rest'.  I slept some and Angel went home to sleep too.  Matt kept vigil over me, dozing as he could.  After a few hours, the drugs wore off, and the contractions increased.

Wednesday morning, January 12th dawned cold and cloudy with snow, so they tell me.  The hours ran together by this point.  The next clear memory I have was being told by the midwife I was only at 4cm and this was somewhere around 9am on Wednesday morning.  I was so disheartened by this news. I had really hoped to be almost done, not hanging out at at 'fourth grade'.  I got sick then, vomiting up nothing (my stomach was beyond empty) and kind of freaking out.  The contractions were so painful and after some convincing, I decided to get an epidural and to start Pitocin to speed my labor up.  I had heard so much about how bad Pit was for VBAC mamas and could cause rupture that it took some serious discussion before I was willing, all in between contractions.

At 10 am I got the Epidural placed in my back.  I was 29 hours in at this point.  I slept on an off most of that day, waking up for 10 or 15 minutes here or there to be checked or to be flipped from one side to the other.  At some point I asked my midwife if I was headed for another C-Section.  She very honestly said "I think so."  I responded, "Well, I've done that before, so I know it's OK."  But we weren't there yet, so they let me rest and watched me and the baby on the monitors.  Somewhere during the middle of the day the midwife checked me, accidentally breaking my water and I was at 5cm.  I slept on.  Matt and Angel talked to me at various points about things I can't remember.  The sun set.  The hours grew long again.  Matt fed me the most delicious orange jello I'd ever had.  I drank juice and slept and slept and slept.  Just before seven pm, it felt as though my epidural wore off.  The contractions grew painful and the anesthesiologist came in to check on the epidural.  The midwife checked me and I was at 7cm.

Then things got more painful.  Suddenly, a lot of people rushed in, flipping me over in the bed, searching for the baby's heartbeat and handing me an oxygen mask, telling me to take long slow breathes.  I was panicking, Matt was in my ear telling me everything was OK, to just breath.  I couldn't catch my breath and then someone said "It's not about you right now, Ariana, you need to breathe, for your baby" and I did.  They found the heartbeat and it was fine.  The midwife checked me again and I was at 10cm, but the baby was at a high station.  It was 7:20pm.  They arranged my body in the bed so gravity would do it's work, turned the epidural and the Pitocin back on and I slept, wearing an oxygen mask. 

At 9:30 pm, I asked Angel to get the midwife.  I felt the most tremendous pressure!  She came in about 9:45 and checked me, asked me to give a test push and then told me to stop while she put on her gown.  They dropped the end of the bed to prepare and I was surprised.  I didn't think we would get to this point!  Matt held one of my numb legs and Angel the other.  I focused on a point on the wall and pushed through 4 contractions and at 10:04 pm, Judah entered the world, straight to my arms.  I was just so surprised!  I really didn't think it would happen.  I had resigned myself to another C-Section and here was my baby after a few short pushes!  To top it off, my darling, but very blood squeamish, husband watched the entire thing and even cut the chord!  (I was shocked!)  It was the most beautiful moment and we got to share it with each other. 

Everything that I had asked for in prayer had happened.  A healthy baby, a natural (mostly) delivery, health and protection for us both during labor and on and on!

It was a grueling forty-one hours from start to finish, but it was such a blessing.  Later the midwife (I saw four of them during the two day ordeal) who said we were headed for a C-Section came to see me and was overjoyed that I had had the baby normally.  She said she was SO glad to be proved wrong.  I thanked her for letting me just continue to labor.  She told me that anywhere else, they would have taken me in for a C-section, but that day (and night) the Labor & Delivery wing was slammed with mothers delivering and as long as I and the baby were stable, they left us alone and tended to other mothers.  I believe God was in that too.  Judah's name means 'I will praise God' and it was even more fitting after everything that happened.

Welcome to the World: Judah William Evans

On a snowy winter night in January, a small little boy made his entry to the world.  Matt and I are so proud  to introduce our son, Judah William Evans, born January 12, 2011 at 10:04pm, weighing 7lb, 4oz and 20 inches long.

Judah - I will praise the Lord

William - (Matt's grandfather's name on his mother's side) - protection, will, desire, conqueror

Gen 29:35 Once again she became pregnant and had a son. She named him Judah, for she said, "Now I will praise the LORD!" So much has been a gift and a blessing during this pregnancy and I can't wait to share it with you.  I am writing his birth story now and will post it soon.  For now, we are resting, recuperating and praying for continued health for both of us and swift healing for my body.  God be Praised for our son! 

The Kindness of Strangers (and friends)

Have you ever seen the show 'Hoarders' on A&E?  I sometimes have nightmares that that is what my house looks like and have seriously examined myself to see if I am headed there.  In some ways, I am.  I have the natural tendency to hoard.  (Although filth gets me moving and cleaning)  On my to-do list before this baby was born was to de-clutter and get rid of stuff.  I had started several 'to donate' bags and as they filled up, I tossed them in the storage room since I was too pregnant to haul them to my favorite charity myself.  Well, then they got mixed up with the bags of baby clothes that people have been giving me and all the other stuff and I was back to square one with a room full of junk.  I can seriously see why some cultures don't bother to clothe their children until age 2.  It's a lot of crap to keep around when they grow so fast!

So there I was, just weeks before my due date with nothing done.  The guest room was full of semi-sorted baby clothes, Cora's room was full of semi-sorted clothes that she had grown out of, but hadn't found a 'pass it on' recipient and lets not even discuss my room and the piles of dirty clothes, clean clothes, my normal clothes that don't fit right now, gifts for the baby, Christmas stuff etc, etc, etc!!  I was feeling a bit frazzled, knowing I couldn't do it all and I couldn't add one more thing to the Geek's 'Honey Do' list when he is working tons of extra hours per week in order to earn enough time off for when the baby is born!

And then in walked 5 women.  I didn't ask them, they just decided that on such and such day at this time, we are coming over.  And I should be prepared!  They cleaned, they aired out, they sorted, they threw away, they vacuumed, they organized, they sneezed from all of the dust, and totally blitzed my upstairs into beautiful.  In 2 hours.  I was amazed and overwhelmed and grateful and so at peace with the state of things.  I was totally ready for the baby to come, should he decide to. 

Well, he didn't decide to, in spite of some signs to the contrary so those women came back.  Not the same exact 5, but with a few of the same ladies, they did the same thing to my downstairs.  All of the horrible hidden rooms (laundry room) that I keep the door closed on because I can't stand to even think about it and its cluttered shelves and piles of whatnot.  Matt kept Cora entertained and out from underfoot while a gaggle of women asked him where things went and in general did what he has been too stressed and tired to help me do when he finally gets to come home in the dark, cold evenings.  I directed traffic and made executive decisions about what to toss and where things went. They cleaned, they organized, they vacuumed, they were charmed by my little 2 year old chatterbox, they helped me part with things, they swept and sorted, and blitzed my DOWNSTAIRS into loveliness.  In 2 hours. I am, again, grateful, amazed, overwhelmed and at peace with my home.  There are things that just can't get better right now for lack of appropriate storage tools (like a craft cabinet), but for the most part, my house is done.  I'm ready for this baby.  It is a huge weight off of me!

Now I could go into my crazy space and wonder what these women thought of me and my borderline hoarding nonsense, but instead, today I can just be grateful for the gift of starting this round of motherhood fresh with things straight and organized and for the sweet kindness of close friends and not so close friends that were just willing to come help us.

One of the women mentioned that we should do this for each other monthly and how little work it really takes if all of us get together and help.  I agree and as soon as I'm recovered enough, I can't wait to do my share!

To my girl

The day
The dawn
The joyful moments captured
Forever in my mama heart
The giggles, the questions
The snuggles.
The much loved books insisted upon before dawn
The tired body forgotten
In the wake of conversations
That if overheard would not be understood
But are a part of the daily patter and chatter of life
With my girl.

Habits and frustrations
Learning and teaching, each one to each in their turn
Eggs with cheese, Puffins and milk
Bananas and conversation
Serious blue eyes answer my question with an insistent
"Yes, Mama"
These days swim past me like a river
Like a tide that I cannot hold on the sand
My baby girl becomes a big girl
A big sister, a little friend,
and I hold her gently,
like a tiny bird
Before she flies away.

To friends who are now famous:

Nashville is a funny town.  People come here with a plan, but Rock and Roll dreams either turn to bus-boy realities or rockets to stardom (after about 10 years of work).  I'm always a little sad when friends 'make it'.  Not because of jealousy, but because 'making it' often means that that person will grow a hedge between themselves and the people they used to know. 

I think of sweet friends who I played music with, wrote with, sang with, ate lunch at the street cafes with, who no longer return my calls.  It's odd.  Are they too busy meeting with record lables, stylists, producers?  Do they think I have some ulterior motive?  Are they too exahusted from driving from town to town and singing to carve out time for friends back home who knew them before the stylists, the lables, and producers?  Do we just not have anything in common any more?  Am I to busy with motherhood and my own life to be intentional with them?  Not sure.

It is hard to watch friends pull away.  It is a hard thing to miss them and to still want to tell them about my little girl, my expected son, how things are growing and changing with me and my husband, my life now, how the music I make now is mostly for kids under the age of 5 at the public library, and often is only heard by one little sweet baby girl (and how I much I love that!).  How I'm happy for them and thrill at seeing them in a music video when not to long ago, we were singing to the cakes (i.e. and empty room) together in some out of the way bookstore cafe.  To wish that we still could talk about our lives with the honesty and frequency of years past.

So to my friends who now grace the music channels and the radio: I hope you are well in heart, mind, soul, and body.  I hope that you have joy and peace in your day.  I hope you have time for quiet and rest.  I'm so proud to have known you, even for a little while. 

The importance of a red cape

Every gal needs a red cape to wear.  It starts with some red flannel, 

an imaginative mama (and a free tutorial and general pattern) and proceeds to costumes.

And snuggly warmth for cold mornings

And all sorts of other things.