Parenting in the Space of Grace

Many of you who frequent my Facebook page know something of the struggles I've had parenting my sweet, spirited, emotional, somewhat defiant, intelligent, loving little boy.  I believe in being honest and a bit raw on social media, none of that "coming up roses" version of not-real-life here.

Over the past couple of months, I really felt like I have emotionally turned a corner, in my personal growth and my journey as a parent.  As anyone who knows me can tell, I carry a very rigid sense of right/wrong, just/unjust, acceptable/unacceptable, which revolves around the core framework of my faith and how we should treat others.  You know, I take the whole "do unto others as you would have done to you" thing very seriously. This rigidity has affected my parenting, I believe in a negative way.  I will explain.

My rigid structure of right/wrong, just/unjust, acceptable/unacceptable, lead me to be a very strict parent.  I set extremely high standards for my children.  I took it very personally and felt like a failure when my child[ren] didn't act or treat people the way I was teaching.  I had emotional and anxiety ridden thoughts of the "end game", what kind of horrible person they would turn out to be if I didn't squash each unacceptable behavior immediately.  So I ended up correcting everything, thus making my sweet, sensitive, somewhat defiant little boy feel like he couldn't do anything right.

Couple that with the fact my oldest was very verbally advanced early on and able to express himself with words, I forgot the #1 rule of child development.  Behavior is communication.  If that is true, if behavior is communication (which it is), then what does that mean for behavior modification or control style of parenting?  If behavior is communication, then that means that children are telling us about what they are feeling or experiencing with their behavior.  And they have the right to do that, all feelings and experiences are valid.  By trying to "control" their behavior, we are censoring their communication with us, instead of helping them through whatever the situation is.  We are addressing the symptom, not the root cause.  [STICK WITH ME HERE, I'm not advocating that kids should get to do whatever they want.]

My revelation this week was this: it's not my job to control/modify my child's behavior, that's THEIR job.  My job is to lead by example, show them how to navigate and control their emotions by being in control of my own.  My job is to help them be emotionally healthy, while imparting a broad framework of important values to apply to their decisions for the rest of their lives and hold themselves accountable to.  If you take the approach of "modifying" or correcting every little behavior, but fail to reinforce the framework of values you use to decide was is and is not acceptable, then when they are later faced with a choice they have never encountered and you are not there to correct them, they may or may not be able to do the right thing.

Now, this new approach does not change my rigid sense of what is and is not acceptable.  It only changes the way I deliver that message.  Instead of rigidly enforcing dos and don'ts, a trap I fear many Christians fall into. I choose to operate in a space of grace, which is the greatest gift our faith has to offer the world.  I've always tried to give others grace & space to grow, but I'm not very good at being gracious with myself.  I was also not very gracious and understanding as a parent.  I am working on correcting both of these things, and being more gracious with myself and my children.  To do this, I focus on a few simple truths and strategies to guide my discipline approach with my kids.

1. Remind myself that they are kids.  Stop taking their behavior as a personal assault or predictor of their future.  In the moment, I remind myself that they are _ years old, and that this is normal behavior for a child.

2. Do not engage in arguments with my child.  I love them too much to argue.  Neither of us are happy with our relationship at the end.  Give them an answer.  If they argue, remind them of my answer and reason for it, then walk away.  The End.  This helps cut down on emotional capital spent on negative interactions.

3. Ignore negative attention-seeking behavior.  Give lots of praise and attention when they are acting appropriately.

4. Choose to address undesirable behaviors based on your overall character goals for your children.  The character goals that guide my parenting are kindness, respect, empathy, integrity, and self-responsibility.  So applying #3 & #4, I may choose to ignore my child jumping around the room.  But if they interrupt 2 people who are talking, I will remind them of our strategy of how to get someone's attention politely and wait to speak in order to be respectful.

5. Help them connect undesirable behavior back to your framework of values.  When a child talks back in a sarcastic or nasty way.  Instead of saying, "You don't get to talk to me that way" (a totally unenforceable statement, because we can't actually control what another person says).  I say something like, "You don't sound kind right now" if they are talking to a peer.  Or "You're not being very respectful" if they are speaking to an adult.  These statements take on the role of the first warning and gives them the opportunity to choose a different course or apologize.

6. Immediately address what is absolutely unacceptable.  Anything that crosses into the realm of abuse, be it physical, mental, or emotional, must be addressed as unacceptable.  Also anything that is dangerous for themselves or others (like darting into a parking lot without looking), must be addressed.  It can even be less serious, such as not washing your hands after you visit the bathroom.  That is not a choice, you either wash your hands or I will wash them for you.  There are non-negotiables in parenting and in life.  They have to learn that some things are "have to" and they don't get a choice, like it or not.

These concepts may sound very basic to you, but these are things I've struggled with on my journey as a parent. A lot of life is a cycle of expectations & disappointment. Honestly, parenting and discipline has not come as easy to me as I imagined it would.  It has shown me the parts of myself that really need work, by having them reflected back to me through my children.  That will knock you on your butt.  More than once I've thought, "Oh no, don't inherit THAT from me!"  My counselor recently pointed out that Levi and I might be on our journeys navigating our big tempers and tender hearts in parallel to each other.  I'm forced to do the work on myself, so that I can guide him away from the same pitfalls I've faced.  He's worth the work.  So am I. 

More Than Milk

Her eyelashes tickle my breast.
Her tiny fingers gently squeeze for more milk.
She looks up at me and smiles as milk dribbles out of the corner of her mouth.
She butterfly sucks after falling asleep.
These moments take away all my insecurities about being a mother.
They rescue me from my feelings of failure and inadequacy.
These moments are just for us.
In these moments I am enough for her; I am all she needs.
These moments are more than milk.

Jill M. Black

Breastfeeding Clara

Anyone who has read this blog long enough or knows me well, knows that Levi and I had a tough time breastfeeding.  I had a lot of pain in the beginning which caused me to (unknowingly) mismanage my supply.  He also did a lousy job of actually taking the milk I had from me, and around 6 weeks my supply totally tanked never to recover.  I fought through chronic low supply, took herb tinctures and Rx drugs just to make 1/4 what he needed, because I wanted to breastfeed so badly.  In the end, we nursed for 15 months and I'm so very proud of us.

With Clara, I thought I knew what I had done wrong, and was hoping things would be different with her.  The good news is, they absolutely have.  I've been able to exclusively breastfeed her without supplementation.  I'm so very grateful.

I did everything right this time: double side feeding, no pacis in the first 2 weeks, no supplementation, no bottles in the first 3 weeks, lots of skin to skin and holding her, making sure I got at least 8 stimulations per day, etc.  After returning to work and pumping more than nursing on some days, it seems I still need more than a little help maintaining a full supply and keeping up with her bottle intake at school.  It also didn't help that we figured out about 4 days before I returned to work that she had a dairy sensitivity that made my entire 70 oz stash unusable!  Anywho, I first started taking the herb tincture I had taken last time, More Milk Plus by Motherlove.  This time I'm not taking a full dose (1 mL 4 times per day), I'm taking more like 0.75 mL 2-3 times per day.  When I had been back to work about 1 month, I filled my Rx for Domperidone.  It has helped a lot and I am able to keep up with her intake now.

I've also been drinking homemade loose leaf tea every day.  I learned while I was pregnant about the benefits of loose leaf tea over the prepackaged stuff in the store.  Apparently, the stuff in the store has so little herbs that there's hardly any benefit to drinking it.  I started making and drinking NORA tea during my 3rd trimester for uterine health and to ease labor.  I use a large metal coffee scoop to measure my portions (you could use a table spoon if you don't have a coffee scoop, it's not exact).  I make up 2-3 recipes in a big Mason jar and shake it up.  Then I use my scoop for 1 serving of tea.

My NORA recipe is easy peasy:
2 scoops Nettle Leaf
1 scoop Oat Straw
2 scoops Red Raspberry Leaf
1 scoop Alfalfa

I order everything from the Bulk Herb Store in the links above.  I ordered 1/2 lb of each herb and it cost around $30 including shipping to get started.  I've been drinking 1 cup per day for 3.5 months now and have not had to reorder yet.

I had planned to keep drinking the NORA tea after birth because of the vitamins and minerals in the Nettle Leaf and Oat Straw, the uterine health benefits of the Red Raspberry Leaf, and the milk boosters in Alfalfa.  However, once I realized I needed a bit more help with my milk supply, I came up with a NORA Plus recipe.  My Mason jar only holds 1-2 recipes of this.

NORA Plus:
3 scoops Nettle Leaf
1 scoop Oat Straw
3 scoops Red Raspberry Leaf
2 scoops Alfalfa
1 scoop Fenugreek
1 scoop Fennel Seed
1/2 scoop Blessed Thistle

You have to be careful with the Blessed Thistle because it is really bitter.  If you use too much, it will ruin the taste of your tea.  Again I ordered 1/2 lb of each herb.  The Fenugreek is a really small package and I'm running out fast.  I will probably order 1 lb of the Fenugreek, Red Raspberry Leaf, and Fennel Seed next time.  Those are the ones that I'm running out of quickly.  Each herb is different so 1/2 lb of one is in a big bag and 1/2 lb of another doesn't go as far.

I don't have a fancy tea infuser pot or mug, so I ordered this awesome french press travel mug that makes brewing and taking my tea a sinch.  Plus, I can use it for coffee later when I'm not breastfeeding.  I love my mug!

I wanted to share my successes and things that worked for me.  I hope it is helpful or encouraging to someone.  If you try my tea recipe and like it, let me know!

***UPDATE:
If you are not a tea drinker, or would like something more refreshing for summer months, you can make an infusion.  You just brew a much stronger version of the tea and then add it to your favorite juice, kombucha, or fizzy drink like ginger brew (which would be great for nausea during pregnancy).  I use about 1/2 cup of loose leaf tea in my quart jar.  I add the hot water directly to the jar, stir, and put the lid on.  I let it sit on the counter overnight.  In the morning, I strain the infusion and put it back in the jar with the lid and store it in the refrigerator.  You'll have 4 or so servings to add to juice or pour over ice and dilute for iced tea.

Clara Jo's Birth Story

Since Levi was born, I've turned into a birth junkie in search of answers as to what happened physiologically during my first labor.  I've read countless articles about labor and progression of labor.  However, everything I experienced during my first labor, and everything I read worked against me.  If I were just a normal laboring mom timing contractions, this birth story would have a very different ending.  But alas, here goes.

One of my main reasons for wanting a home birth was to reclaim my healthy view of birth, and to birth without fear.  In preparation for my labor, I bought the Hypnobabies home study.  I was horrible about listening to the tracks and practicing; I'm not sure it worked.  But I digress.  I can say that for the most part, I was very calm and relaxed for most of the labor.

I was having what I thought were crampy like contractions on Sunday night, February 9th.  When I woke up Monday morning, my contractions were about 12-15 minutes apart.  I took it easy that morning, ate some breakfast, and called my boss to tell her I thought I was in labor.  I called Matt at work to ask him to drive me to the chiropractor for one last "I'm in labor" adjustment around lunch time from Dr. Paxton.  By then my contractions were about 10 minutes apart, and still very manageable.  We picked up Levi from school on our way home.  When we got home, Levi took a nap and so did I.  I made the mistake of "working hard to establish labor" with Levi and by the end I was exhausted.  I knew that since I was in early labor still, I needed to rest as much as possible.  So I laid down, dozing on and off, most of the afternoon.

Earlier in the day, I alerted the birth team that "today might be the day".  My best friend Meredith was supposed to provide childcare for Levi, because we wanted him to be there.  Our photographer, Melody Hood, was going to photograph the birth.  My friend, Kristen, was set to be my doula.  And of course, Michelle Ray was our midwife.  Around dinner time, the contractions had reached 6.5-7.5 minutes apart and stayed that way for a few hours.  I was texting and calling Michelle periodically, but because I was still able to go about my daily tasks and talk normally through the contractions, we really didn't think that I was "serious" about labor yet.  Every birth junkie and well trained natural birth practitioner knows to judge labor progression by the emotional signs (laughing, talking, normal activity, etc) rather than the time span between contractions.  I think it was around 9pm or so when I went to the bathroom and lost my mucus plug.  That thing was gross.  I never saw mine with Levi.  But there again, that can happen days before a birth, so that's not really a sign either.

I had convinced myself that because Clara was in the same position that Levi was in during labor (spine on the right side of my uterus), that my labor with her was going to be long like it was with Levi.  My labor established itself as "active labor" fairly early on in the day with Levi and I was "serious" about labor and the strength of my contractions for over 12 hours before I got my epidural.  Because my contractions had been fairly mild all day, I had convinced myself that I was in for the REALLY long haul and not to get too excited too early.  Then my contractions started to space out again.  I knew that with second and after babies that labor could start and stop several times, and because I didn't feel that labor had established itself as "active" I thought that when they started to space out that night that they labor may stop and let me sleep and start back in the morning.  Michelle told me to lay down and try to rest, so I did.

I laid down about 10:30pm.  Once I did, I felt like my contractions were still pretty far apart, but they got MUCH more intense.  In hind sight, this would have been the time to call Michelle and tell her to come.  I tried to stay in bed, but the contractions were too intense, I had to get up.  I looked at the clock, 11:45pm, as I got out of bed.  I came into the living room and stood in front of the fire, talked to Matt, swayed back and forth, did some belly lifts trying to get Clara to turn, and labored through about 4-5 contractions.  I looked at the clock again, 12:05am.  For whatever reason, I still did not feel the need to call Michelle.  I didn't believe labor was actually "getting serious" because the contractions had gotten close and spaced out again so many times during the day on Monday.  Instead, I called Kristen, my doula.  I told her that things were more intense but I still wasn't sure if it was time to call Michelle.  She said she would grab her bag and be right over.

Again, this would also have been an excellent time to call my midwife.

Kristen arrived at the house about 12:25am on February 11th.  I was moaning through some fairly intense contractions, telling Kristen I was a horrible Hypnobabies student because I didn't think my anesthesia was working.  Because I was convinced that Clara's position was going to cause me to have a long labor, Kristen and I decided to try to get her to turn.  Kristen did some Rebozo belly sifting with me.  Meanwhile, Matt was in the living room reading his birth partner Hypnobabies literature about belly lifts and getting a baby into proper position for birth.  At the bottom of his reading material there is a big disclaimer, "Do not do this unless you are where you will give birth. If you are having a home birth, make sure your birth attendant is with you."  And he walks back to the bedroom to find us doing belly sifts.  Oops.

I stood up to go to the bathroom and felt a TON of pressure.  I ran my hand down the front of my belly, and there was Clara's spine...right in position for birth.  All I could think was, "Uh oh."  I looked at Matt and said, "Call Michelle.  She needs to come, now."  That was about 1:00am.  Matt gets on the phone and calls Michelle, who lives at least 45 minutes away.  He also calls Meredith (in case Levi wakes up during any of this) and Melody and told them to come as quickly as they could.  Then he calls Michelle back.

Cut to me.  I can feel Clara descending.  Michelle asks to talk to me.  She told me to check myself and see what I feel.  My calm response, "Hang on, I gotta wash my hands."  She asks, "What do you feel?  Is it a head?"  Nope, it was a bag of waters.  Then I sat on the toilet and it WAS a bag of waters that broke.  Then I felt intense pressure and Clara coming down.  I yelled at Matt that Michelle needed to get here now.  His reply, "Hun, she hasn't left her house yet."  Me, "She's not gonna make it and someone's gotta be here to catch this baby!"  Matt asked Michelle if he should call 911, she told him to go ahead.

Now I had heard of this phenomenon called "involuntary pushing", like if a pregnant woman were in a coma and went into labor, that her body could deliver her baby without any conscious effort from her.  I now believe this to be true.  When I realized that my midwife might not be there to catch my baby, I obviously did not make any effort to actively push even though I had the urge.  I also did not fight what my body was doing because that would have REALLY HURT.  So I just "relaxed".  I put this in quotation marks because I was relaxed as one can be while screaming bloody murder.  I really think my emotional state would have been different and I may not have screamed AS MUCH bloody murder if Michelle had been there.  But there was nothing I could do to stop her arrival once Clara decided to come.  I would not describe it as painful, just very intense pressure.  My body literally expelled her on its own.

We laid down the plastic table cloth on the bedroom floor, and Kristen was ready with her gloves to catch Clara (who started to crown before anyone arrived).  Matt was on the phone with the 911 operator and proceded to tell me to lay on my back, to which I responded "EFF HER!" (not abbreviated).  Greg the firefighter walks in (while I'm screaming again) and starts asking, "Ma'am, is this your first baby?  How far apart are your contractions?"  My response (in a not so nice yelling manner), "STOP ASKING ME QUESTIONS!  THERE'S A HEAD COMING OUT OF ME, JUST CATCH IT!!"  I look and the second firefighter is covering his mouth laughing in the hallway.  So Greg the firefighter decided he was going to "check" to see how close she was to arriving without telling me, to which I responded "DON'T TOUCH ME!!"  I think Kristen said something like, "You can just wait for the head."  I yelled out, "Somebody get Matt, he's gonna miss this!"  Two contractions and involuntary pushes later, Clara was born.  I looked up at the clock right in front of me, 2:00 am exactly on 2/11/14...HER DUE DATE.

THEN the ambulance personnel arrived.  Meanwhile, my daughter is wet/cold/screaming and they laid her down on a chux pad on the hard floor while wiping her off with another chux pad.  I'm [still] yelling, "Give me the baby.  She's cold.  Her body temp is dropping.  Give her to me!"  Greg the firefighter & Crystal the EMT "We need to clean her off."  Michelle on the phone to Crystal, "PUT THE BABY ON THE MOTHER'S CHEST!!!"  As my sweet doula waits patiently with a clean, fluffy towel to give to us after Clara is with me.  When they finally gave her to me, she stopped crying...obviously.  We got her dry and a fresh, dry towel to warm both of us up.  Then here comes Greg with a cord clamp.  I calmly put up my hand and said, "Don't clamp her cord yet.  Just wait for the midwife, she's almost here."  I didn't want to explain the research on delayed cord clamping to Greg.  He looked confused.  Luckily he just accepted the "Wait for the midwife." instruction as something that made sense.  I think he and Crystal felt like they needed to be doing something, so they just kept suctioning her mouth.  Whatever.  In retrospect, I think Kristen would have done a fine job catching her but I digress!

Matt likes to joke that even in the throes of labor and after giving birth, that I was totally in charge of the room and everything that happened...just the way I wanted!  Meredith arrived just after Clara is born.  All she said was, "Wow, that was fast!"  Then Melody arrived.  Both later stated that they nearly lost it when they pulled up to the house with 2 police cruisers, 1 fire truck, and 1 ambulance in the driveway.  Matt never got a chance to call them back after the initial "Come as quickly as you can." call to tell them what was going on.  Poor Melody said she might need a cardio work-up for the possible heart attack she had.  THEN Michelle came in and took over, I could finally relax.  ;-P

The poor EMT was so confused as to what to do in a normal birth situation.  She admitted that the only births she had responded to were 4lb, trouble breathing, no prenatal care, crashing babies.  She said something about transporting me and not knowing whether she could discharge me to the midwife's care without transport.  Matt's response, "She's NOT going to allow you to transport her or the baby.  There's nothing wrong with either of them."  Crystal had to get the ok from her supervisor on the phone to discharge two perfectly healthy individuals, bless her.

After all the strangers left my house, everything was just as I imagined it would be with a home birth!  I nursed Clara for the first time in my own bed.  Kristen and Meredith brought me food and juice and made me laugh.  Melody took awesome pictures and may or may not have held Clara before Matt, woops.  Clara made a big poopy all over my belly and Michelle was trying to clean me off.  I didn't realize Matt hadn't held her yet and I handed her to the nearest person so we could get both of us a little cleaner.  Matt totally busted Melody with, "Are you holding my daughter before me?"  Melody's all like, "No, that didn't happen.  No, not at all.  Here she is!"

Anyway, they made my herbal sitz bath in my tub where I got cleaned up.  They brought Clara to the tub where she immediately calmed down.  While I was in the tub, they changed the sheets on our bed and put towels and sheets in the wash.  Once I got out, Matt and I laid in bed while Michelle did Clara's newborn exam on the foot of our bed and told us how healthy she was: 7 pounds 2 ounces, 19.5 inches long.  Then Michelle and Kristen packed up to leave after a few hours of hard work!  Melody and Meredith stayed for us to wake Levi up, because yes he slept through everything!

Matt says that waking Levi up and bringing him into our bedroom was better than any Christmas morning ever.  As my sweet boy rubbed his eyes at 5 O'early in the morning, Matt said "Levi, who is that with Mommy?"  Levi said, "CLARA!"  He immediately wanted to hold her.  It was the sweetest family moment and I will never forget it.  I'm so glad Melody was there to capture it for us.  Once I get the DVD of pictures, I'll add some to this post.

Although it wasn't the peaceful, intimate home birth we planned.  It was lovely, and quite a fun story.  I delivered my baby safely, in my own home, and had the support of the people around me.  Oh, and I was totally in charge!

Breaking Radio Silence

So obviously being a full-time working mother to a toddler severely impacts the frequency with which I update this blog.  But this most recent radio silence was purposeful.  I found out I was pregnant with baby #2 on Saturday, June 8th, two days before I started my new job on Monday, June 10th!!  Woohoo!  We were certainly planning for baby #2, just not at that exact moment.  :)

If you've read my posts from Levi's first year about my struggles with breastfeeding, or one of several  reflective posts about his birth and the trauma we all sustained, it's not hard to figure out that I had PPD (postpartum depression).  Although, I never really addressed it or admitted it until it was practically gone a year later.  I did enter therapy to address my residual trauma surrounding Levi's birth and all that came with it in the fall of 2012.  I also started attending ICAN meetings, a support network of women recovering from C-sections.  These 2 steps had a profound impact on my healing, how I viewed myself, and how I viewed birth.

You see, growing up I always had a very healthy view of birth and women's ability to give birth.  My awesome mom is a former Lamaze instructor and had a natural birth with me.  My view of birth was always, "Women have been giving birth for thousands of years without drugs and interventions.  I can do it too."  I've never been afraid of birth, EVER.  I viewed it as a totally natural process, not a medical situation.  And honestly, MOST births aren't a medical situation.  If left alone, most births will progress normally and naturally with a positive outcome.

In a therapy session about 1 year ago, I was discussing my first labor and birth and how I felt at each stage.  I reflected that while I was at home, I was totally relaxed and comfortable, not scared at all.  As soon as we left home for the hospital, I was scared.  And every decision I made after that was made in fear.  Every intervention that I didn't want but agreed to, was because I was scared.  I was on the other side of Levi's birth feeling like a victim, and scared to face birth again, scared I would be a victim of our birth system feeling bullied again.  Then I looked at my therapist and said, "I don't want to go to the hospital next time.  I want to stay at home.  I want to have a home birth.  I was comfortable at home.  I feel safer at home than I do in the hospital."  I couldn't believe I said it out loud.  It was such a relief, like a weight was lifted off of me.

When I found out we were expecting baby #2, I already had a relationship with the midwife I would hire from attending ICAN meetings.  I personally knew at least 5 people that had HBACs (Home Birth After Cesarean) with her.  I trusted her and knew that she had the knowledge and experience to deliver my baby safely.  I felt that my best chance at the healing birth I wanted was to surround myself with care providers who wanted me to have it as much as I did.  I knew that by hiring Michelle, if I ended up on an operating table with another C-section that I really needed to be there.

Matt and I discussed home birth at length.  We decided that it would be best to not tell anyone our plans except for the people that would attend the birth.  We knew that home birth is a bit taboo for some people, and HBAC is something that many people are not comfortable with and feel is not safe.  We wanted our decisions about the next birth to be ours and ours alone.  We did not want anyone else's voice or criticisms rattling around in our heads influencing us.  And we certainly didn't want to spend 9 months defending our decisions or hear negative comments from people who had never researched the safety of home birth like we had.  So, we decided that it was nobody's business and we would keep it to ourselves.  We did feel bad about having to tell boldface lies when anyone asked us directly which hospital we would be at, but as time passed we knew we made the right decision.

That is also why I refrained from blogging during my pregnancy.  I knew it would be disingenuous to blog about the pregnancy and say nothing about our plans about the birth, because I've been so open discussing our last birth experience.  Thus, the radio silence.

But that's not why you're here.  You're probably here to read about how it went...

The Second Anniversary of the Worst Day of our Lives

Today is our son Levi's 2nd birthday.  Matt and I agree that he is the greatest blessing in our lives short of our marriage to each other.  He brings us so much joy, laughter, and pride.  Words cannot express the richness his presence adds to our lives.  We know that as parents we are extremely lucky to have such a happy, content, sweet, brilliant, healthy child.  We take none of this for granted.  There are so many couples who are not as lucky, and we know that.

However, neither one of us likes to reflect on the day our son was born.  It was not an enjoyable day. It did not go as we planned or desired in many ways.  When we do talk about that day, we aren't reminiscing about our first moments together as a family.  We are usually "processing" what happened to us in a therapeutic way.  In fact, I've been in therapy for some time now addressing my birth trauma.  I look back at this blog post and shake my head.  I was in such denial about my experience and feelings about it.  I was really trying to be ok with what happened to me.  I thought if I kept saying it over and over again that I would believe it.

But the truth is, what happened to me that day is very different from the story I told.  After much reflection, I realize the mistakes I made in agreeing to interventions that made my labor more painful, and the interventions we were coerced into when Matt and I were at our most vulnerable.  I've done a lot of reflecting on my labor itself and it's almost as if I had 2 different labors, one at home and one in the hospital.  At home, my labor was intense but I was relaxed.  I remember different things I did during the labor, but I don't remember many specific things and time passed very quickly for me.  I was even able to rest and snooze between some of my contractions.  The only reason we went to the hospital when we did was that there was quite a bit of blood (more than I expected) at one trip to the bathroom.  I flipped and thought about ruptured placentas, when actually it was just a few burst capillaries from my dilating cervix.  Oh how I wish we would have stayed at home longer, because my "emotional" labor cues were not telling me it was time to go to the hospital.  I went because I was afraid, and I was never able to relax and trust my body again after that.

My "second" labor in the hospital was chaotic, anxiety-filled, and much more intense, partly due to the hospital environment and procedures and partly due to the interventions.  Even though we had taken the time to "pre-register" and fill out all of the necessary paperwork, they INSIST on asking you all the same damn questions again when you arrive while you are having painful contractions and trying to relax.  ARGH.  Hospital policy states that you must wear a fetal monitor a minimum of 20 minutes every hour.  I had a mobile monitor, thankfully.  But instead of leaving it on, which might have been better in the long run, every hour my Labor and Delivery nurse was putting the thing on/adjusting it to keep the heartbeat as baby moved around/taking it off.  This constant touching me was extremely distracting and made my labor more painful.  Every time something broke my concentration, my pain was horrendous.  When I was able to stay in the zone and concentrate, Bradley doesn't lie, the pain is cut to a fraction.  Your body tensing up and fighting against the contraction is what makes labor so painful.  My labor became significantly more painful after they broke my water.  The bag of water helps to cushion your body from the contractions.  I believe I had so much back labor because Levi was having to rotate into position.  The ideal position for start of labor is head down with the baby's spine on the left side of your uterus.  That way the baby turns 1/4 clockwise turn to go down into the birth canal.  Levi was in this ideal position until about 37 or 38 weeks.  He rotated overnight to have his spine on the right side and never went back.  Instead of babies turning 1/4 turn counter-clockwise to come down, they have to spend much of the labor effort to turn 3/4 turn clockwise.  Having their skull pressing on your spine during this turning process is what causes such intense back labor.  If I had been thinking clearly (haha) I would have realized that breaking my water would make it more difficult for him to turn and make my labor more painful.  Hindsight really is 20/20.

But the most regrettable part (that we had any control over) was allowing my midwife to talk me into getting an epidural.  I had no idea at the time the emotional price I would pay for that decision, and the ripple affect it would have on my birth.  I knew how much I wanted a natural birth, had always wanted a natural birth.  I grew up with a mom who had a natural birth with me and went on to become a Lamaze instructor.  I said my whole life, "Women have been giving birth for thousands of years without any drugs, I don't need them either.  My mom did it, so can I."  When you get an epidural, you are forced to lay on your back.  A woman's pelvis is smallest when she is lying on her back.  The only reason this has become the birthing position of choice in modern hospitals is because it is most convenient for the care providers to see what is going on and "catch" the baby.  Apparently, it was just too taxing for a middle-aged male doctor to get down on the floor when a woman was giving birth, so they started strapping her to a table on her back.  But I digress.  Because of this unproductive birthing position, and the fact I couldn't feel what the heck I was doing when I was pushing, Levi never moved down past my pelvis.

But what I've realized since his birth is that coercing me into an epidural was totally unnecessary, medically anyway.  The only person that intervention attempted to serve was my midwife.  Once I took a job as a medical social worker it hit me: if she doesn't see patients, she doesn't get paid.  She had a full day of patients scheduled on Monday.  She approached me about getting an epidural at 1am in an attempt to speed my labor along so that she wouldn't miss billing for any patients the next day.  I thought it was odd that she never missed any of my scheduled appointments in 9 months from attending a birth.  **RED FLAG THAT YOUR MIDWIFE IS NOT REALLY SUPPORTIVE OF THE NATURAL LABOR PROCESS**  Levi was never in any distress.  His heart rate never faltered, not even once.  There was never a medical reason to intervene.  I even told them, in as many words as I could muster, that I was starting to feel him in my bottom.  That is the tale-tell sign that the baby is moving down into the birth canal and it is time to push.  I was almost there, but instead I trusted that my provider was acting in MY best interest instead of hers.  That is not a mistake I will ever make again.  She knew my birth plan.  She knew what I wanted.  And she came to me in the most painful part of labor, after I had been in transition for 3 hours and in labor for nearly 24, and told me "I don't think you can dilate the rest of the way without an epidural."  In my world, I needed someone to tell me that I COULD do this, to remind me that God created my body to do this, because I wasn't so sure.  Instead, she told me in so many words that she didn't think I could do it.  And that crushed my spirit.  That was the end for me.  Matt was terrified by how much pain I had been in and how difficult it was for him to watch.  He just wanted it to be over.  He said it was my decision, and so I quit.  I will regret it for the rest of my life.  That decision was the biggest factor in not giving our family the best birth we could have.  That was the reason that my first time holding my son looked like this:

instead of like this (9 hours later):

You might be wondering what my midwife could have done differently.  Well, she was hardly in the room at all except to check my progress what I can only assume was every hour.   She never suggested any natural remedies to help with dilation, such as changing labor positions.  She only suggested unwanted interventions, such as breaking my water and an epidural.  She's the midwife and I'm a first time mom, she should have suggestions of what might be helpful since this wasn't her first rodeo.  I've learned that laboring on the toilet can help open up the pelvis and bring the baby down to put more pressure on the cervix to dilate.  That might have helped.  In stead of suggesting a C-section right away after 2 hours, she could have given me the option of turning off the epidural and letting the feeling come back in my legs to change positions for pushing.  I didn't know that I could ask to turn off the epidural once I had it.  I was never given the option.  As much as I would have hated going back to feeling contractions, I would have done it to avoid surgery.

My C-section was nothing short of what I would term "medical rape" because of how I was coerced into interventions I didn't want, the reasoning behind the coercion (non-medical reasons), and the actual process of the surgery.  I had a strong reaction to the epidural drugs.  They made me shake and shiver violently, even before I began pushing.  The rate at which they have to increase it to perform surgery, I shook so violently I questioned whether they should be cutting into my abdomen.  I went from a dark labor room where I was experiencing all the natural, primal, protective hormones of a birthing woman, to a stark, bright, sterile operating room strapped down with my arms out like I was on a cross.  I was no longer able to instinctively protect myself and my baby, and it was terrifying.  All I wanted to do was feel him on my chest, to smell him, to kiss him, to nurse him.  Instead they brought him all wrapped up like a burrito so that I could barely touch him.  He was terrified as well.  He was so scared, you could tell by his cry.  He couldn't feel me or hear me.  Instead of entering this world slowly and peacefully, he was jerked and pulled out by his head and neck.  Have you ever seen a C-section?  I have, and it's a horrible way to be born.  Don't get me wrong, they are necessary in some cases to save lives.  But mine was not.  Mine was the outcome of undesired interventions and a greedy care provider who wanted to make money off of my birth and a full day of patients.  And I don't think the emotional trauma I have suffered or the price I paid with low milk supply, trouble breastfeeding, postpartum depression, and marital stress was worth her rescheduling a few appointments.

But that's only part of our story.  Matt hates that I didn't get the birth I desired, the pain it has caused, and the situation that caused it.  But for him Levi's birthday is about a different experience.  For him it was "waking up" in an ambulance with the realization that he had had a seizure and was on his way to a hospital across town from his wife and new baby.  For him it was appreciating the suggestion of the EMT to take a picture of him holding his new son with his phone, because when he woke up he couldn't remember the birth (he does now).  For him it was texting me to ask what time Levi was born, how much he weighed, and how long he was, because he couldn't remember.  For him it was knowing that he wouldn't be able to drive for six months, and that he would have to take anti-seizure meds for the rest of his life.  For Matt and for me, thinking about Levi's birth means acknowledging that this moment,

our first moment together as a family, happened 9 hours after Levi was born.  And that is NOT how a family should be born.

But on this day, Levi's 2nd Birthday, we focus on him.  We celebrate who he is, and dream of who he will become.  On this day, we celebrate our precious, handsome, bright, funny, verbose, book-loving, kiss-giving, amazing little boy.  We celebrate where he is now, and we try not to think of how he got here.  At the end of the day, we both admit that for a moment our thoughts turned to the events of 4/4/11.  We hope that some day the bad memories will become foggy and the precious memories will remain.  Until then, we celebrate TODAY.

***Regular therapy with a trained counselor and finding a supportive group of women who understand has been key to helping me cope.  I found the support I needed in my local chapter of ICAN.  If you are dealing with birth trauma of any kind or finding it difficult to recover emotionally from a C-section, I encourage you to seek out a chapter near you.

Happy Birthday Levi!!

Yes Levi is ONE YEAR OLD!! YES it's been that long since I blogged about anything!  Our little man turned one on 4-4-12.  He weighed in at a whopping 19 lbs even :)  We had dinner with cupcakes on his REAL birthday.  Levi immediately picked up the cupcake, flipped it over, took 3 bites out of the bottom, & proceeded to throw the rest on the floor bit by bit.

For Levi's big birthday bash we decided on "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" for our theme since Levi loves books, and this book in particular.  The invitations were precious, and done by my girl Ashley.  Aren't they so cute?!

Of course after many years of "retirement" my mom, G-Mom made the cake!

I got most of the decoration ideas from Pinterest.

I didn't have the time or the inclination to do the entire "menu" from the book.  So we served BBQ from a local place, plus had the fruit that the caterpillar ate Monday -Friday and the "nice green leaf" he ate on Sunday for people to make salads.  The rest of the cards of all that he ate on Saturday were just for decoration on the table.

I had a friend of mine take pictures, which was a big load off of my shoulders.  She did a great job and it was one less thing for me to worry about.  We had her come early and do pictures of Levi with all of his grandparents (and my godmother).

Levi and "Binda" (my godmother Brenda)

Levi with Grandma and Grandad

Levi with Gramps and Nana

Levi with G-Mom

Levi with Mommy and Daddy

Matt and I went back and forth on what to get Levi for this very special birthday.  I still have the Jenny Lind rocking chair that my parents got for my first birthday, Levi loves it.  We decided that every little boy needs his very own little red wagon...

Levi and his buddy Franklin (they are 10 days apart)

It's called IGT

I feel like I finally have answers after over 8 months of part-time, or in my mind unsuccessful, breastfeeding.  I listened to this pod-cast about insufficient glandular tissue (breast hypoplasia) and it all started to make sense.  I don't have all of the common physical characteristics.  Between the characteristics I do have and our journey of Levi's weight loss and my inability to stimulate my supply, there is enough to cause me to believe I have a mild-moderate case of IGT.  I make about 2-3oz of milk every feeding, with the help of herbs AND Domperidone.  After joining an IGT support group on Facebook, I realize that my IGT is nowhere near as bad as it could be.  Some women only make that much in a DAY.  I'm very lucky that I can give Levi as much milk as I do.

But being part of the group has also helped me redefine what successful breastfeeding is.  I thought that because I couldn't give him all the milk he needs that I wasn't successfully breastfeeding.  But really, whatever I'm able to give him and keep going is worth it.  I AM a breastfeeding mother.  It may not look like what most people think of as a "normal" breastfeeding relationship, but that doesn't matter.  I don't need to qualify myself as a part-time breastfeeder, or a supplementer.  I give Levi every drop that I can.  I breastfeed, and that's important for me to say.

If you think you may have IGT, if you struggle with chronically low milk supply in spite of great efforts to boost production, go here as a start for self-diagnosis.  Hopefully, as more people learn about IGT, more mothers like me can get the help they need to be SUCCESSFUL, no matter what that looks like.

Merry Christmas!!

We had a lovely Christmas with family.  We started at home opening gifts from Santa and exchanging gifts as a family.  We headed to Christmas Day worship service at The Vine, which was awesome.  We had brunch after church at G-Mom's house... we should definitely make Christmas Day french toast a tradition!!  And we ended the day by traveling up the mountain for Christmas dinner at Grandma and Granddad's house.  Here are some pics from the day!!

Mom had a quilt top made by my great-grandmother quilted by my great-aunt.  So special.

The YEAST monster

I've been a little behind on blogging, and I've been putting off writing this post for some unknown reason. But several weeks ago, heck it may have been a couple of months now, Levi and our diapers had YEAST! We were visiting the pediatrician for something totally different and he very nonchalantly said, oh and this is a yeast rash on his bottom, just get some whatchamacallit cream and it's no problem. He said basically any diaper rash that lasts more than a couple of days is yeast. 

Yeast rashes can be a REAL problem when using cloth diapers. First, you can't use any of the tried and true creams that really knock out the yeast rash with cloth. Second, it can be a real ordeal to get the yeast out of the diapers so that baby and diapers don't keep passing it back and forth.

My first priority was getting Levi some relief. So we ran out for a pack of disposables (BOO) and started using the cloth safe cream we had. I also ready here that disposable wipes (which is what they use at daycare) can feed yeast.  They were great about me bringing cloth wipes to school until the rash was gone.  The cream we had didn't work after a few days, so I started scouring the internet for other yeast solutions. But our friend Meghan stumbled upon this blog and suggested coconut oil.

Coconut oil is a miracle worker!!  It has anti-fungal properties and cleared Levi's rash up in less than 24 hours.  Plus it's cloth safe, so we can continue to use it in the future!  I bought a big jar at our local organic grocery store for $7.  I scooped some out and sent a small container to school, put a small container in the diaper bag, put a small jar in the nursery, and still have about half the jar in the kitchen!  We've also had a problem with a yeast rash around his mouth on his face from his lala, coconut oil is safe to use there too (I had been using my nipple cream, which is much more expensive).

Next was the diapers.  I was afraid to put the diapers back on Levi until our whole stash had been washed a couple of times with the yeast regimen.  I continued to use the yeast washing regimen for 2 weeks after his rash was gone on his bum to make sure it was gone from the diapers too.  I pulled from several articles and blog posts online and came up with the following routine:

1. Cold rinse with 20 drops Grapefruit Seed Extract dissolved in 2 oz of filtered water
2. HOT wash (turned water heater up to 130 degrees from 120) with regular cloth detergent and OxoBrite oxygen cleaner
3. Extra cold rinse
4. Dry on high in dryer (most recommend sun but my laundry line is still in the box, hopefully we can put it out next spring)

This is what worked for us.  I will forever sing the praises of coconut oil because I saw how quickly it brought Levi relief... and it's super CHEAP compared to other diaper creams!  I hope your baby never gets a yeast rash, but if they do, I hope this blog helps you!!

Levi you are 8 months old!

Levi you are 8 months old. You weigh 17lbs and 3.5oz. You still insist on doing the army crawl and show no interest in being on all fours. You are pulling up on lots of things and love standing in your crib. You babble an awful lot, and I think you've said "bye bye" a couple of times on purpose, but I can't prove it! You love to clap your hands...

But this is your latest trick! You show no signs of understanding any of the baby sign language we've tried to teach you, but you can do touchdown! We are still breastfeeding part-time, and you have bitten me with your ONE tooth once that actually injured me. THAT wasn't fun. You are eating more solids at night, and though you don't like every food the same, the only thing you absolutely refuse to eat is bananas. You have had a pretty nasty cold for the last couple of weeks. You had a cough settle in to your chest and you've been taking breathing treatments in the morning and before bed. I think you've almost kicked it though!

Your First Thanksgiving

Pulling up!

Sweet boy

Levi you are 7 1/2 months old... and your mommy is a slacker!

Levi is doing all kinds of fun things these days. He has perfected the Army crawl that looks more like the butterfly stroke on dry land. Whatever it is, it works to get him where he wants to go... which is usually the power strip where the keyboard is plugged in or straight to the dog water bowl! Yek! He started clapping his hands on Halloween. I put him on the floor so that I could put my costume on and when I looked down at him, he was sitting there clapping! :)

Since I blogged last about Levi, he's gone on 2 big trips (one on a plane), had his first big fever :(, had 3 haircuts, gone to 1 wedding, 2 funerals :(, and 1 football game. We lost our sweet GP in September, he will be sorely missed. He did get to meet and love on his great-grandson though. Matt's friend from high school's step father also died. I was working, so Matt dressed Levi up and took him to the funeral solo. Here's a pic of Levi and GP:

Levi went with us to a wedding in Maryland, his first plane trip, where he promptly got a horrible fever as soon as we arrived. His fever lasted about 24 hrs and at times was over 104. We didn't know that until after we got a thermometer though! **PS Don't get a flu shot within a week of anything important. The pediatrician said that side effects can appear up to 1 week after (about the time Levi got his fever).

Yes, Levi has had 3 haircuts! I know it's bad luck, but the kid's hair was out of control! I had to cut it before his 6 month pictures with Melody Hood b/c there was a really long piece hanging in front of his ear. Then once I cut it, I've had to keep it trimmed because it grows like crazy. Oh well, he's much better groomed!!

Here are some 6 month pics (notice his hair trimmed around his ears):

Hilary came to visit for Halloween:

cutest little Piglet ever!

And 7 month pics:

Whew! Now I'm all caught up and ready for the holiday season!!

The Mompetition

Two very dear friends of mine, whom have been out of touch in recent months, used the very same phrase in our first reconnecting conversations with each other. They mentioned that they "didn't have it together." One friend in particular admitted that she hadn't called me because she was having a hard time staying on top of things and that I appeared to have adjusted to motherhood without missing a beat and seemed to have it all together. [HA!]

First of all, if that were true my last post before this one wouldn't be about my son being 5 months old when he is now 7 months old! If I had it all together, my blog would be up to date!

But seriously, these conversations have troubled me deeply and brought me to a very serious realization. Two of my dearest friends (who do not know each other at all) were each going through some very difficult times ALONE. One friend I know was too intimidated by her perception of others that she didn't feel as if she could reach out when she needed someone.

We women are relational creatures, and part of being relational creatures is comparing ourselves with others. This can be very dangerous to our emotional health if we are in a vulnerable place. She works full time and teaches Sunday School, I should be able to do that. She works out 3 times a week and is in the best shape of her life after having a baby, I should be able to do that. She doesn't feed her family fast food at all, I should be able to prepare a healthy meal for every meal we eat. She cloth diapers full time, I should be able to do that. She has quiet time every day with God for 30-60 minutes, I should be able to do that. She makes all her own baby food, I should be able to do that. She continued to breastfeed after going back to work, I should be able to do that. Her house is always so clean, I should be able to do that. She grows her own vegetables and composts, I should be able to do that. The problem is that when we do this comparison, these women are never the same person!! The one who finds time to work out, probably has a dirty house. The one who teaches Sunday School, may feed her baby jar food. The one who prepares healthy meals for her family, may use disposable diapers. But for some crazy reason, we feel like we should be able to do it ALL. Hence, the mompetition.

We expect to be able to do it all, even though no one ever could. And because of our feelings of inadequacy when we can't do it all, we withdraw from one another and feel isolated. When really, the mom that you compare yourself with, the one you think has it all together, feels like a complete failure. And funniest of all, she looks at you and thinks you have it all together too.

Levi you are FIVE months old!

I can't believe my baby is 5 months old! You are turning into such a sweet, cool little person. You are very happy all the time. You love people and will let anyone hold you (which I appreciate when it's time to drop you off at school). This weekend was your first Labor Day Party and Grandma and Grandad's house and you were the star of the show. You let Grandma take you all over the place and meet lots of new people and you never cried once about being away from us. You really are an easy baby!

The Labor Day Party was also our first game day!! We lost this one by 1 point, but we've got lots to build on.

You loved the music!

You love the animals, and Einstein loves you back... not sure about the girls. Isis did love on you the other day until you pulled her tail! Hurley is STILL mad that you took away her Mama and every time you try to pet her, she steps out of your reach.

Your new trick is sitting up! You aren't very good at staying up for a long time, but you can sit up for 20-30 seconds at a time, sometimes longer if you prop yourself up on your arms. You are scooting all over your crib, inchworm style. You don't use your arms, you push with your legs and use your forehead to hold you up. It's SO funny.

Sitting up like a big boy!

We started giving you cereal and you really seem to like it this time. You try to take the spoon away from us! We tried giving it to you a few times when you were 4 months old and you were not ready. You got MAD actually :) I think we are going to try solids soon once you get the hang of cereal.

I measured you about a week ago and you were 26" long! We are looking at big boy car seats, because you will probably outgrow the infant seat in length long before you reach the weight limit. I weighed you about a week ago and you weighed 15lbs 1oz.

Here you are eating your "5 months" sign...

That sweet face melts my heart!

You are a very sweet and cuddly baby boy! You remind me of another little boy that's not so little anymore... SNIFF

The End is Near

No I'm not talking about the East Coast Earthquake, hurricane Irene or any other of the natural disasters that have folks beating down the doors of their local church for fear of the Apocalypse. I'm talking about my breastfeeding journey. My heart is absolutely breaking into pieces as I write this.

As I've said before, breastfeeding was by far the most important thing for me to do for my baby and the one part of being a mother that I looked forward to most. As my 4 regular readers know, it has been anything but an easy journey. Hell, it hasn't even been a bumpy road. It's been an all out mud-crawling-military-obstacle-course-fit-for-a-movie (think Officer and a Gentlemen). After trying everything under the sun to get a full milk supply to come in, I finally came to peace with the fact that I would be a part-time breastfeeder. We had a schedule that worked for us and I really was happy with it, if I couldn't breastfeed exclusively. I had enough to feed Levi any middle of the night feedings, and 2 early morning feedings (around 6 and 8am). These are the least convenient times of day for me to deal with bottles, so really I couldn't complain. He had a supplemental bottle for his 11:30, 3:00 and 6:00 feedings after I breastfed him. And I pumped once after he went to bed, before I retired. This schedule worked for us for a good 2.5 months or so.

I started noticing last week a slight decrease in what I was pumping during the day at work. I had been pumping around 2 oz each session, meaning I was making between 2 and 3 oz per feeding. Levi started pulling off and throwing his head back and whining and fussing during recent feedings, I now know it's because I'm not producing as much milk as I used to. On Tuesday my monthly visitor returned. This is bad news. It means that since going back to work, the breast pump is not doing a good enough job getting milk out to keep my prolactin hormone levels high enough to keep my period away. The more the prolactin levels fall, the less milk I make and the more likely that my visitor will stay. In just two short days my production has plummeted. I don't even think I have enough to get him full in the morning without a bottle now. I barely have anything to give him and he is getting frustrated with the process.

I'm not greedy. Sure I wanted to breastfeed exclusively, but I gave up on that months ago. I just wanted to keep going as we were as long as he and I still wanted to, at least a year. This is all happening so fast. It's so sudden, so early, I'm just not ready for it. My heart is absolutely breaking. I'm hurting in a deeper place than I ever knew my soul to go. I can't feed my baby. My body was made to do this and it continues to fail me at every turn. I try to remind myself that I am grateful. I'm grateful for the medical advancements of the last century. 100 years ago, I wouldn't have a son now. He would have died months ago of starvation. I know that. But it still doesn't take away the pain I feel in this very deep place. I just want to feed my baby. I JUST WANT TO FEED MY BABY!! I want to feed my baby and I can't and I feel like I'm being punished for something I didn't do. This feels so unfair.

Well-meaning friends and medical professionals tell me it will be better next time, my next breastfeeding experience will be a breeze, it will be better with the next baby. That's great, but I'm not trying to feed the next baby. I'm not holding and consoling the next baby. I'm not looking into the frustrated hungry face of the next baby who just wants to nurse and get milk. Nope, I just want to feed THIS baby. We'll worry about the next one when s/he gets here.

I realize I'm a control freak, but why did it have to be this. Why was THIS the avenue to teach me some stupid lesson about letting go, blah blah blah. There's nothing I can do to MAKE my body make milk. And that's just the end of it. Just like that. It's gone and I can't do anything to get it back.