Seasons

As a parent, you quickly come to understand that seasons don't just apply to the weather! There are gorgeous seasons, and harsh ones, and they all come and go just as do Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall.

Max is in a tumultuous season right now. He can be so bright and cheerful one moment, and then angry and tempestuous the next. We're getting into the separation anxiety stage, so while I remember what's coming (and to be honest I dread it a little), I also remember that it won't last forever. It will give way to a new season, filled with new challenges, but also new things to enjoy.

He's cooing and making so many new sounds, and loves to hear his own voice. He lights up when we imitate a sound he's made, and responds with even more vigorous vocalizations. He started rolling both front-to-back and back-to-front before he was even 3 months old, and now he's a pro. He can roll from back to tummy in the blink of an eye, although he's usually not that happy to find himself that way. He wants to MOVE. He can already dig his little feet into the floor, push his bottom up into the air and propel himself forward on his belly. I fully expect he may be army crawling by 5 months. It's crazy, really. He watches Amy constantly, and we think that's the reason behind his intense desire to be mobile.

He's exploring textures, grabbing and mouthing toys, and chewing on his hands. I wonder if he will be a late teether like Amy or if, like everything else, he'll do that earlier too. He loves pat-a-cake and peek-a-boo. Being spoken or sung to are pretty high up on his list of Things That Are Awesome. He's an ambidexterous thumb-sucker just like Amy was (and still is!).

And Amy. She's practically speaking in paragraphs now. Her understanding and comprehension are sharp as a tack and she just loves to have our undivided attention. She's definitely a drama queen, as most 2-year-old girls tend to be. Whining is big right now, much to our frustration, but like anything else, it's only a season. She still adores Max, and I really hope she and Max will be close as they grow. She can't give him enough hugs, kisses, and love, and I think she'll be delighted when he can finally follow her around and interact with her. I think we'll still see some jealousy when he's able to play with "her" toys, but hopefully she'll continue to be loving and gentle to him as she is now.

As she continues to grow it's a lot of fun to see how our interaction with her changes. She's always busy and loves to learn new things. She loves to sing songs, and now knows most of her basic nursery rhymes by heart. She recognizes several letters, and we're working on numbers. She can sing her ABC's and count to 12.

We continue nightly prayer time, and she knows most of the Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory Be. George is excited to start teaching her how to pray the Rosary. I think she'll be able to understand a little more about Christmas this year, and we're excited to celebrate in South Carolina with my family.

I'll post some pictures in the next post, but at least now I'm caught up on the kids! We've had a very enjoyable fall...so I've got lots of posts up my sleeve!

Hope you're all enjoying the beautiful colors of Fall!

4 Weeks

I can't believe it's been almost a month since Max was born! While there have definitely been those sleepless moments when time seems to go slowly, for the most part it's sped by.

Amy is still doing great with Max, and is always near him, talking to him and loving on him. It's definitely my favorite part of being the mom of two.

Max has been a little challenging for me because he wants to be held so much and didn't nap very well during the day. We've been struggling to solve his issues with gas (related to breastfeeding - forceful letdown that causes him to gulp a lot of air, and a foremilk/hindmilk imbalance), and he definitely has the whole "witching hour" fussies.

But he started intentional smiles in his third week (and only does it for me! lol)...weeks before Amy's first smiles. He really loves to see everything, and is always trying to hold up his head to look around. We found a solution to his daytime naps (the bouncer in the picture, paired with the Miracle Blanket), and he loves bathtime.

We adore him more every day, and can't imagine our lives without him.

Growing pains

I've been saying a lot of prayers lately that I will remember the sacrificial nature of motherhood. While initially it's tempting to ask for things to be easier, I try and ask to be mindful of my children and that they are gifts given to us, and not burdens. In the day-to-day, it's easy for me to get too wrapped up in the lack of sleep, lack of routine, and the new challenges of two vs. one. I end up in a place where I start resenting my role as mother and caregiver...something I chose and wholeheartedly know to be my vocation.

But I've been reminded during those times of prayer that just because this is my vocation doesn't mean it's the easiest road. It's the road with the most grace, yes. It's the road with the most rewarding moments imaginable. And it's the road with the most challenges, but challenges that were designed to help me get to Heaven.

So I'm learning - much more with two than I did with one - to pray more. I'm learning to rely more on grace, and to ask for it. I'm learning to recognize opportunities to improve and grow as a mother, and as a child of God. And I'm learning to be thankful for these two precious gifts, even (and especially) in the most challenging moments of my day.

Amy and Max

I admit I was apprehensive about how Amy would adapt to Max once he arrived. We talked about baby Max for months, and I think we prepared her pretty well for the eventuality that Max would be part of our lives outside of Mommy's tummy. But you just never know how a toddler is going to react to such a big change.

I shouldn't have worried. Amy adores Max. She's a typical toddler, never quite aware of what each of her limbs is doing at any given moment, but we can see the effort she makes to be so gentle when she approaches her brother. She adopted that "parentese" way of speaking to him from the first, and she loves to be close to him and hold him. It just makes my heart soar when I see her face when she's looking at him. Yesterday, she proclaimed to Daddy "I love him!", at which point I about melted into a puddle from the sweetness.

I know that in no time at all she'll be bossing him around, but I hope that she stays just as loving and gentle with him for a long time to come.

Max's Birth Story

My labor with Max started with 3 days of early labor. On Thursday the 21st, I started with light contractions about every 8 minutes. I noticed them and they showed up on my non-stress test in the doc's office, but I didn't really have to concentrate through them at that point. Overnight into Friday, they got more intense and frequent, but would taper off when I took a bath...which was an indication that things were not yet underway. All day Friday, they continued at a little higher intensity than they were on Thursday. I went to the chiropractor, and to the play gym with my mom and Amy. Overnight into Saturday the scenario of the previous night played out again. I really wasn't getting a whole lot of sleep, since the contractions would amp up during the night. Saturday, I started having to concentrate through a few, but toward the evening they started spacing back out.

Saturday evening, I talked to my doula, Kay, who was just getting back into town from a conference in Atlanta. She told me to remember that every woman is different, and active labor might not be the textbook 4-1-1 (4 minutes apart, lasting 1 minute, for at least 1 hour) for every woman.

Around 10pm Saturday night, the contractions were getting and staying stronger, after they had lagged and faded somewhat through the afternoon. They were still about 10-12 minutes apart though, so I didn't think much of it. I had a late snack and tried to go to bed. Around midnight, I had to wake George up to start counterpressure on my back during the contractions. They trucked along at 5 minutes apart for about 50 minutes, and then spaced back out to 10 minutes. I was really annoyed by that, because I had started thinking we were finally getting somewhere! So we decided to try and get some more sleep. I woke up to every contraction for the next couple hours, and finally around 3:30 they were getting so intense I had to get up and sit on the birth ball with George applying counterpressure again. Once again, we trucked along at 4 minutes apart for 50 minutes, and then they spaced back out again. This time, though, they were 10 minutes apart but the strongest I had had so far. I decided to call Kay and see what she thought. She reminded me again that it's different for everyone, and asked what my gut was telling me. I said I thought it was time to go to the hospital. So that's what we set out to do.

At this point I was starting to feel very nauseous and got sick before we left.

We arrived at the hospital around 5:30, and when they checked me I was relieved to hear that I was 6.5 cm dilated! That was huge for me, since I never made it past 4cm with Amy.



Once at the hospital with Kay and George, we walked, I used the tub, and I got doses of antibiotics since I was Group B strep positive. God provided the best of nurses for me, Heather, who had just finished studying to be a midwife. This was a huge blessing, because not many other nurses would have been so patient over the next several hours. Labor kept intensifying, my water broke in the early afternoon, and for a long time I didn't dilate any further, even though my body was changing in other ways. My cervix was moving from posterior to anterior, I was effacing, and Max was moving down. I'm so thankful I had Kay there to explain to me that dilation isn't the only progress to be made. It was fairly discouraging to hear 7cm after several hours, and I was starting to block myself mentally from getting any further. Kay and George encouraged me to stay upright, which was really tough because the contractions were ridiculously painful that way, and I would sometimes have as many as 6 in a row with almost no break in between. Finally, after about 45 minutes of vertical positions, I couldn't take it anymore, and asked for an epidural. It was hard for me to go that route, because I desperately wanted a natural childbirth, but after almost 4 days of contractions and 20 hours of active labor, I was more exhausted than I had ever been.

Heather checked me before the epidural, and I had made it to 8cm! I was relieved that all those awful contractions during the previous hour had done something!

Once the epidural was in place, I could finally get a little rest. And it only took another 30 minutes for me to be complete (10 cm)! Kay and I discussed it later, and she said she was glad I got the epidural. She suspected that a lot of my emotional and mental blocks from Amy's labor were slowing things down, and that once my body (and my mind!) could relax, everything could move along more quickly.

Heather wanted me to labor down (where they have me sit upright to help the baby come down even further) before trying to push. So we did that for a while, and then the nursing shift changed, and my new nurse wanted me to start pushing. I was having "hot spots" of pain through the epidural, and I could definitely feel pain in my belly while pushing, but fortunately none below that. I felt like it hurt everywhere in between pushes. It was definitely the hardest thing I have ever physically done.

After almost 2 hours of pushing, my doctor delivered Max at 9:24pm. He told me later he was impressed and glad that I had managed the VBAC, and I thanked him for being so willing to wait so much longer than usual for Max to come on his own.

God provided us with so many graces along this road, not the least of which was finding the right doula in Kay (and that Max waited until she was back in town to be born!!). We would not have had the confidence to get through all those hours without her, and she and George made the perfect team. I really owe this VBAC to her. :)

Heather was another grace. She was willing to let me go on intermittent monitoring, which they don't like to do with VBACs, and I knew she wanted that VBAC for us as badly as we did. When I saw her the next day, I thanked her profusely, and she gave me a huge hug and said how badly she had wanted to be there when Max was born, but that she was so excited for us that we had been able to have the VBAC.

This recovery has been a totally different experience. I felt so free and relaxed even the next morning after Max was born. I am SO thankful that God allowed us to have this experience. Even though I didn't manage a natural childbirth, there isn't anything I regret or question about Max's birth. It was just what I hoped for.

Cherishing these moments

Time. When it comes to kids, it always seems to be speeding by. My daughter is almost two years old. She amazes, challenges, and amuses me every day. She is hilarious and smart, and ends up in timeout at least 20 times a day (usually a lot more!).

And yet, I find myself feeling so bittersweet about these last few weeks before her brother is born. While I'm so excited to begin our lives as a family of four, I feel her babyhood slipping further and further away. And every day that we get to spend just the two of us feels like a little treasure that I'll get to hold in my heart forever.

I know she probably won't remember much about this summer, just because she's so young, but I hope she knows and feels how much I love this time with her. I hope we can create memories that I can keep and recount to her when she's older.

People keep telling me to relax and take it easy. But I don't want that to be how I spend this time. We go to the pool, to open gym time, to the park, and we are out and about every day. We talk, and giggle, and cuddle. These are our last days when she will be my "only", my baby. And I'm loving each and every minute.

Healing from a c-section...more than just physical

When I talk to people who have never had a c-section about the emotional healing I've had to do, there is usually some look of confusion or even disgust. I get the "well, your baby is here and healthy, so what else matters?" attitude. Make no mistake, having emotional scars from my c-section doesn't mean I am any less grateful for my beautiful daughter, or the fact that she got here safely. I am grateful not to have encountered anything dangerous during or after her birth. But that doesn't erase what was lost. It doesn't minimize the feeling of failure.

In my particular situation, my body never progressed past 4 cm. I never contracted well on my own, and my body didn't even really respond to pitocin. Sure, I spent 24 hours "in labor", but nothing happened. I was labeled "failure to progress" and have spent the better part of the last 2 years trying to understand why that happened. Why my body failed at the most basic and essential job it was designed for. It made me feel like less of a woman. To not be capable of bringing my child into the world? Failure.

I saw my daughter's first hour of life in pictures. There was no squirming baby placed on my chest, no looking into her face as she took her first breaths. I heard her first cry from behind a curtain. There was no watching my husband cut the umbilical cord, or getting to count her fingers and toes. I was paralyzed and cut open, staring at the ceiling of an operating room. I wasn't the one to change her diapers in the hospital, I wasn't the one who got to be with her during her newborn tests. I had to have someone hand her to me, I couldn't go to her.

Physically, it's hard for other women to understand what a c-section means, too. Having someone you barely know shave you to prep you for surgery, being naked on a table in front of a team of strangers, staying in bed until you can feel your legs again, someone having to help you shower. I couldn't get out of bed in the middle of the night to pick up or change my daughter. It leaves a physical scar that never goes away, and will have an effect on every single birth you have after that.

All of those things most people take for granted. I would have given anything to be able to have all of those moments, even the poopy diapers. I was embarassed by the physical challenges.

So no, for me a c-section is not "just another was to give birth" or "no big deal". It comes with a lot of emotional and physical baggage, a lot of why's and why not's.

When I got pregnant with this baby, I found a lot of those emotions welling up again. Those same feelings of failure came flooding back, along with fear. Fear of another potential surgery, fear that my body would fail again, fear of trying to VBAC.

I realized I had to come to terms with Amy's birth, and get past these things...I had to heal emotionally. And for me, that meant learning. I threw myself into learning as much as I could about VBACs and c-sections. I educated myself about the risks of both a VBAC and a repeat c-section. I learned things about the state of our medical system today, and how most doctors don't even follow the recommendations of their own organization (ACOG), when it comes to what they recommend to their patients for birth after c-section. Our society has gotten so sue-happy that doctors are afraid to allow women to try VBACs, even though it is regarded as the safest method of birth after c-section. I learned about the benefits of vaginal birth for the babies themselves, and about the importance of the baby's position during pregnancy and labor. I learned more about labor and the textbook "definitions" applied to it. I read, and absorbed, and asked questions.

I thought I was prepared for labor and birth with Amy, and now I feel more than that...I feel informed. I feel like I can make choices and decisions regarding my prenatal care, and even the treatment I receive in labor. I read my operative report yesterday, and found out that Amy was posterior (or "sunny side up"). Having the understanding I do now about fetal positioning, I know that many more of these babies are delivered by c-section, and many are labeled failure to progress because they can't move down into the pelvis well enough to help with dilation. But I've also learned that posterior babies can be helped to turn during labor, that women don't always experience back labor, and that the common "interventions" used in labor these days are not always necessary.

More than anything, I finally feel like I didn't fail. And that was the biggest hurdle of all.

I still want this VBAC. I still want to have all those experiences of a vaginal birth. I still want to know that my body can give birth the way God designed it to. But I also know now that if it doesn't go that way, it's ok. I have truly done everything I can to prepare myself. I will not feel as though I didn't do enough. I will not feel like I failed.