Seeing Christmas With Fresh Eyes

I remember being pregnant with my firstborn, 6 years ago.  Around Christmas time I was 5 months pregnant and barely had a bump, but I "felt" pregnant.  I had been feeling the small movements of the baby and was treasuring this new awareness of life inside.  Christmas was suddenly so magical, really for the first time since being a child.  I was carrying a baby, and suddenly the scriptures about Jesus' birth took on a whole new meaning.

I was in awe of the faith and strength Mary had, to carry with confidence the child absent of an earthly father.  Engaged to a man, but not married.  A virgin.  Did anyone believe she was a virgin?  Probably not outside of her, Joseph, and her relatives who had gotten the news from an angel! For sure Joseph didn't believe her at first.  I can't imagine the shunning she suffered in that day for carrying a child as a non-married woman.  That was something women were stoned for.  As I sat in my room, reading the story for the hundredth time, I thought about how excited and welcomed my baby was.  By my family, by my friends, by every passerby that noticed the emerging bump...

Then, I kept reading.  Oh that's right, when it came time for her birth, she was traveling.  On a donkey!  She had the nesting urge just like every other woman.  And she couldn't do anything about it.  And when she went into labor, there was no where left for them to go have the baby.  Did her water break?  Did her contractions come suddenly or drag out over several days?  At what point in labor was she when they finally found somewhere to settle and have the baby?  The place of birth: a barn.  As I took all this in at that time in my life, and as I ponder it now, I am overwhelmed with tears.  She wasn't just carrying any baby, she was carrying the Son of God.  She was a human woman like me and you.  She had the same hormones and emotions.  And she gave birth to her son in a stable with animals and animal dung, and no one there to support her except her husband.  I know he was wonderful for her, but that was in the day where women in the extended family would come and support a woman as she was birthing.  She didn't have a veteran mom coaching her along.  No midwife.  No doctor. Who had to clean up the mess?  Birth is messy!  It was Joseph. And what did he use to clean it and where did he get it? 

The Bible doesn't talk much about Mary's feelings and behavior through this whole process.  I'm sure she had some major freak out moments.  Especially traveling on a donkey being pregnant and again postpartum with a nursing baby.  I wonder if she struggled with the baby blues the days, weeks, months after the birth?  Sure she struggled with wanting to do everything perfect as a mother.  Her child was to play the most important role of any man ever born!  But two things stick out to me from the scriptures. 

First off, when she conceived and went to visit her relative Elizabeth who was also pregnant, Elizabeth said the most amazing thing to her.  "Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of the things that were spoken to her from the Lord."  There's a difference between hearing something, and believing it.  After Elizabeth said that, Mary poured out her heart and adoration of the Lord, that He had chosen her for this!  And she was amazed at the road laid out before her! Secondly, after the birth it reports people finding out and being astounded at the news and that the shepherds had an encounter with an angel who told them where to go to see this baby Savior.  And Mary "was keeping within herself all these things, weighing and pondering them in her heart."  Remember doing that while holding your sleeping newborn baby?  Trying to soak it all in, that this baby that was once growing inside of you is now on the outside.  And you have been given charge to mother a human being who will one day be an adult contributing to society!  Mary was holding the Savior of the world in her arms.  She was chosen to mother him.  I can imagine the mix of amazement and fear.

Isolated from family and friends, with a husband who loved and believed in her, and with her faith in God whom she had heard and trusted, she endured the charge that was laid upon her.  Because she drew her strength from the Source.  So in the season of busyness and gift buying, wrapping, traveling, money spending, and family drama, take a moment to hold your baby (or belly) and recall this to mind.  Read the story with fresh eyes.

Everyone's Hero, or Maybe Not

Naturally, we want to be the best at things.  We expect that of ourselves.  We imagine in our minds how something is going to go, and many times are disappointed in ourselves (or others) for not meeting expectations.  When it comes to birth, every woman I've talked to had a birth that did not line up with the one that had "planned" in their mind.  Two of my three births were non-medicated.  Zero of my three birth went as I had hoped they would!

When I was pregnant with my first, I was determined to have a natural birth and hired a doula (tried to find a midwife and couldn't) and read books, talked to other women, did whatever I could to gear myself up to have an awesome birth experience and go natural.  Well, when I ended up with Pitocin and an epidural, I walked away feeling like a disappointment to myself, and a few others.  I had a vaginal birth, the baby and I were healthy, he was beautiful, there were no complications.  There was much to be thankful for, and I was.  But there was this deep thing inside that I carried around for a while.

About a month after the birth, I was sitting in a rocking chair in my living room (something that happened frequently those days) and it hit me that I had distanced myself from certain others, including God.  I hadn't talked with Him in a while, and the reason for it was disclosed as I opened up to Him: "I'm sorry for disappointing you."  The tears began to flow.  "I know I'm capable of this, and I was supposed to be strong.  But I got so weak and gave up.  And I didn't depend on your strength.  I'm sorry I let you down."  And amidst the anguish of my soul, He said something like this:  "You didn't let me down!  That's not My heart!  I'm so proud of you.  My heart is for you.  You are NOT a disappointment.  Look at your baby!  You carried him inside for 9 months, your body sustaining him and then birthed him.  You are amazing.  Your birth was amazing."  And then the floodgates of tears opened as I let those words wash away all the disappointment and unrealistic expectations I had of myself.

Expecting mothers, you don't have to prove anything to anyone.  You don't have to be anyone's hero. Birth is not a performance.  I'm going to say it again because I'm seeing too much pressure and expectation these days:  Birth is not a performance!  It will probably not go the way you expect.  Our bodies are natural and have individual differences and needs and they are not robotic (I'm very thankful for this!).  Sometimes birth goes smoothly, and sometimes things come up that are beyond your control.  You can and should surround yourself with people who believe in you and will support the type of birth that you want.  But give yourself the freedom to readjust your expectations, or let go of them altogether. 

And if you're carrying disappointment from a past birth, let it go.  You grew a baby in your body.  How stunning is that?!   In all the exhaustion, morning sickness, body changing and bulging, hormones and mood swings, you made it (or are making it) to the end.  The prize is the baby.  Don't focus so much on the process that you lose sight of the prize.  Don't compare yourself to other women and their birth stories.  There is no "gold standard."  Do your best, and be confident!  Let your story teach you about yourself, and let it show you places in need of healing, or simply releasing.  For me, I realized that I feared being a disappointment to myself and others, and I feared being weak.  Nothing in my life has been a catalyst for change more than my experiences in birthing and mothering.  It matures me and causes me to deal with my stuff, whether I want to or not! 

So, take a deep breath, and just let go...

Pregnancy, relationships, and the pressure of expectations

As a woman approaches the end of her pregnancy, she experiences many surges of hormones, emotions, and thoughts.  The "unknown" is something that is so hard to swallow.  At any moment she could be starting labor, or not.  Labor could take 3 hours, or 3 days.  She has no idea the drastic change that will come from caring for the baby inside of her to constant 24/7 care once he's on the outside (no matter how many births she's had its always an adjustment).  Pregnancy and birth is prime time for women to learn how to "let go."  Its a good time for those who she's in relationship with to let go as well. 

We have to learn to let go too and get rid of any expectations we have of the mother.  Things like: giving us a daily/weekly report of progress, asking us to be with her during the birth, calling us when she goes into labor, having the baby at a time that's convenient for everyone, alerting people in a certain order once the baby is born, freely handing over her baby for us to hold, spending lots of time talking to us after she's gone through a vigorous labor and just wants to be with her baby and little family....  I know this can be hard to hear.  I've been on both sides of this.  On the pregnancy side, at times I gave into the pressure of others and let it get the best of me, and at other times I was able to shut it off and overcome.  And being on the side of the friend/family/support person, I've had unrealistic expectations too.  And I've been disappointed.  And I have focused more on myself and my desires more than the needs of others.  But freely loving means we let go of our expectations of others.   What do our unmet expectations do to a woman who is in this journey?  They make her feel like she needs to perform.  They make her feel like something is "wrong" because she hasn't had the baby yet.  They make her feel like she's not measuring up. They make her feel like she's a disappointment.  And all these things take away from the confidence she needs to walk into labor and mothering with! 

What is a due date?  Its nothing but an estimation!  Rarely do women give birth on their due dates.  I personally think we should go to have a due "time-frame" or something to take the pressure off of women.  And, maybe women should stop sharing their due date with people. 

We take things so personally too.  Just because our close friend doesn't return our phone call doesn't mean she doesn't love us or anything has changed in the relationship!  We must not internalize her lack of interest in the relationship or lack of communication with us.  She's just in the middle of a huge transition and more than anything needs to know that we love her and are there for her.  No matter her shifting emotions and moods.

Pregnant women and new mothers: remember that you don't owe any information to anyone.  Your midwife or doctor needs to hear from you, and you should maintain good communication with them..  And communicate with and draw support from the one who is in this beautifully wild adventure with you.  But don't feel pressure to let everyone know everything that is going on. Don't have an anxiety attack over making sure your call list is in perfect order.  And please, please, please, don't feel pressure to play "pass the baby."  That is another blog post.

Family and friends: this is a great opportunity to show genuine love and support and grow your relationship.  It’s a perfect opportunity to play a role in building up and encouraging.  What do you say to women as they approach or pass their due date?  You tell them you believe in them.  You pray for them.  You offer your support in any form to them (and not be offended if they don’t take it).  You remind them that they are fully capable of giving birth and mothering their baby.  You remind them that women have been doing this for thousands of years and they can do it too.

When Babies Cry....

There is nothing like hearing a baby cry that makes a momma want to bulldoze everything in her path to get to and help her baby before her heart breaks in pieces.  Its in our nature to be unnerved when we hear babies cry, whether she belongs to us or someone else.  We're that way because as women we are nurturers.  We are comforters.  We are peacemakers.  I remember the first time we heard our first baby cry.  Every hour the first night.  We were so sleep deprived and I was exhausted from labor.  I thought it was a cat in the room.  "mmmrrrraaaaawwwwaaa"  I don't think I could mimic the sound, but our little newborn sounded just like a cat in distress!  And what a wonderful feeling I had when I picked him up and spoke softly, "Mommy's here.  Its okay."  And he was quiet in an instant.  He knew my voice from being with me from the inside for 9 months.  He trusted me.  And I discovered what a wonderful gift I had in breasts that nourish, sooth, and comfort a baby!  Nothing can describe the feeling of knowing I could bring instant calmness by cuddling him to my chest and offering what naturally flowed out of me.

But as he grew, the times he cried and wouldn't be comforted.  Oh I almost came unglued every time. "He's crying!  He's going to die!  He's going to go to a therapist when he's 20 and tell her his mother made him feel abandoned!"  The times where he was done nursing and didn't want to latch back on.  And then he wouldn't go to sleep.  And his diaper change didn't change his demeanor.  And he wasn't in pain as far as I knew.  "What's wrong baby?  What am I doing wrong?"  By baby number 3, I realized I really wasn't doing anything wrong. If you are listening and responding to your baby's needs (even though you don't get it right every time), there is no way you can be doing wrong.  I think babies cry to communicate their needs.  And I also think babies just cry.  Some more than others.  And as a mother, I needed to evaluate the reason he was crying and respond accordingly.  But, not be so fearful of a crying baby!  And not freak out and think that his crying was a reflection or judgement on my ability to be a mother.  Bam.  How many of us think that?


Please note:  I understand there are situations where fussy babies have long periods of crying because of physical issues such as reflux, colic, etc.   That cry is definitely distinct and you can tell the baby is in pain.  Those are definitely problems that need to be address by a professional.

Why I Love Midwives

I never knew what a midwife was or how it could be to have one until I was pregnant with my second son.  I had not succeeded at having the natural birth I wanted the first time around, and decided I would do what I could the second time to have one.  I finally found out where the midwives were in Wilmington (that was quite a search) and was able to come under their care.  I was so shocked the first time I had a prenatal appointment with one.  She sat down and talked to me about my personal life and my first birth experience.  She took her time and was gentle with the exams.  When I told her how I wanted a natural delivery, but was a little unsure if I could do it after having the epidural with my first, she reassured me: "Your first birth was just practice.  This time you know what to expect and you can do it." And she never stopped believing in me.  Even after the birth as I looked around at my midwife, the L&D nurse, my doula, and my husband I said (in my over-excited, I just pushed a baby out voice), "We did it!"  My midwife looked at me and said, "No, YOU are the one who did it.  We're amazed at your strength!"  She put it all back on me.  That's what midwives do.  They are there to support and build confidence in mothers to birth their own babies.  AND they have all the medical knowledge necessary should something go wrong. They can do epidurals for women who don't want a natural birth but want the support of a midwife.  The only thing they don't do is surgery.  I had another great experience with the midwife I had with my third.  We decided to have a home birth and so had a midwife who had been doing births for 30+ years, and decided to open a home birth practice.  Every visit I had with her was so much more than a prenatal exam.  It was a "visit."  She became a dear friend to my husband and I.  Once towards the end of my pregnancy I caught 3 infections all at once.  I finally realized I couldn't just get past it on my own with vitamins and water and called her.  I hadn't slept a full night in 3 weeks.  She was genuinely concerned for me and said, "Don't you ever go even a few nights without sleeping again and not call me!  That's what I'm here for!"  She wrote me a prescription (no need to even go to a Urgent Care or whatever) and sent me home, calling and checking on me the next day.  She stalked my Facebook :)  I found this funny, but so appreciated at the same time because she really wanted to make sure I was okay, and she was not merely concerned about my physical needs, but my emotional ones as well.  In knowing that I had suffered PPD after my second pregnancy, she helped me prepare to prevent that the third time (and I didn't have it!).  And her postpartum support was AMAZING.  I tear up thinking about her sitting on a stool in my bedroom, looking me in the eyes and asking, "Melissa, how are you doing?"  And what I heard was so much more than those few words.  I loved how she always respected  and supported my beliefs about God and life, and never pushed her personal ones on me.  She was okay with me just being myself.  So why do I love midwives?  They believe in the natural process of birth and give a woman's body time to bring forth a baby.  And, they believe in WOMEN.

When we question ourselves as mothers....

As it turns out, I made the decision to go on the lowest dose possible of medication to get me out of the "pit" that I was in, so I could think clearly again and be in a place where I could deal with things that needed to be dealt with.  Once my hormones leveled out I felt MUCH better.  Nursing got better too.  My baby remained on the smaller side and continued to go down on the charts, but I decided to let it go and stop worrying about it .  He was healthy.  He was gaining (even if it wasn't fast or a lot he was still gaining).  And he was nursing well.  Who would have thought with me having an oversupply and him nursing fairly well he wouldn't gain weight rapidly?! Although I felt great and "let it go", I continued at times to blame myself for his small size.  When someone would mention he was petite or talk about their baby and brag on how big he/she was, it would bring all the guilt back again.  It took a while to not feel the sting anymore.  I didn't go through postpartum depression with my 3rd, and I want to talk about that in another post.  But I did have a "hiccup" in the beginning of nursing that was also associated with oversupply.  While I was in the middle of it though, I was able to process some of what I went through with the ppd I had been through a couple years prior. My mind stayed clear and I began to understand some of what took me down before (and was attempting to again).  Here's something I wrote as I was going through that shaky time, and I've been wanting to share with women:

There is something terrible disconcerting about a baby screaming at a mother's breast.  The very thing that is meant to provide comfort, nourishment, life.  The mother questions the baby, "What did I eat?  What did I do?  Are you not hungry?  Too hungry?  In pain?"  All these questions on the surface.  But something resounds deeper in the heart of a postpartum mother.  "Is there something wrong with ME?"  "Do I have what it takes?"  "What if my comfort/nourishment is not enough?"  Women were created with everything they need to nurture their babies.  I don't know why it gets bumpy and sometimes so tough that some give up.  Sometimes things beyond a woman's control happen with her body that makes breastfeeding impossible.  We're human.  Nothing's perfect.  But how could something so incredibly natural be so hard at times?!  So hard!  I think perspective makes a big difference.  When a woman starts questioning and doubting herself and her ability, it only gets worse.  Bottom line, women have what it takes. We are born with it!  We may have to go through a process to figure out exactly what's going on (if a baby is having feeding issues), but we have the grace for that.  Don't question your ability as a mother.  And don't "blame" it on the baby (I did this many times).  He's just being a baby.  Nursing is a dance.  Listen to and learn to dance with the baby.  Step "outside of the box." Talk to other women.  And be confident in who you are as a woman!

Have you ever felt similar?  I want to hear your thoughts!

The downward spiral

I don't even know where to start.  Forgive me if I jump around with this topic and the blog, the only way my writing comes out naturally is if it comes from my heart.  So it may seem a bit jumbled or out of order sometimes.  Around 2 months of age, the sweet chunky baby who had been doing so well gaining weight and nursing suddenly started having issues in those areas.  I'm not sure which came first, me beginning depression or his nursing troubles.  But one fed the other and so the downward spiral began.  I had issues with oversupply, which I did many things to try to help.  Even still my baby was not content nursing.  He would start off fine and then pull off after a couple minutes and scream once I tried to put him back. I researched tirelessly trying to figure out what was wrong and how to fix it.  This became my obsession.   I cut out dairy, as well as other foods I thought could be the problem.  I lost interest for eating period because everything I enjoyed I couldn't eat, so one week I just sort of stopped eating for a couple days....  I lost 5 pounds in one week (after being back at my pre-pregnancy size).   I didn't want to go anywhere, I didn't want to talk to anyone, I just wanted to figure out what I could do to feed my baby and give him what he needed.  I had anxiety upon each feeding, and cried every time he repeated his pulling away crying.  I felt hopeless.  Each doctor visit and hearing he was "slow-weight gain."  Yet the doctor was encouraging to me.  We thought he might have reflux and tried medication for that.  Didn't really change the way he nursed or gained.  I was beating myself up.  I kept telling myself it was all my fault and there was something else I could learn or do or figure out to fix it.  After all of this, I think I was so confused and had lost all confidence in my ability as a mother to meet my baby's needs. And then there was my firstborn who needed so much of my time and attention, and much more than I was giving or could give him.  I could see the sadness in his eyes every time I wrestled through yet another feeding with the baby. Feedings would most of the time take an hour.  I tried a bottle and prayed that he would drink from it.  He never took one.  I remember one particularly bad day when I was walking around trying to feed him, my firstborn came over to me (only 2 1/2 years old at the time) and said, "Mommy, he's okay. "  I knew my son was speaking the words he had heard the Lord speak about the baby (I love it when He uses my kids to speak to me).  It seemed to break the heaviness and confusion, even if for a brief moment.  I lived life like this without realizing what was going on for 5 or 6 weeks.  When a mother figure in my life sat me down and said, "Melissa, lets talk about this.  I think you may be experiencing some depression" I finally realized I had been crying every day, dreading every day, surviving through every day.  It took her together with my husband to finally recognize and accept it.  Then, of course I felt like it was my fault I had depression and there was something I had done wrong or could have done differently.  But, I finally came to grips with the fact that it wasn't so much about what was "wrong with my baby"  - I needed help. 

Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone

Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone... I was listening to the radio recently when this song came on.  Though I'd heard the song before, it immediately, it made me think of a time in my past.  Tiny babies are so precious and sweet, and innocent. Full of new life, untainted by the issues of the world.  Who would think that a mother could wind up depressed after having one?  I never thought it could happen, especially not to me. But it did.  Its hard to remember much from that dark period of my life, but I know it was a slow fall.  It took my husband and a dear friend to recognize it in me, and reach me in the middle of my "sleep."  Like the song, I was really "gone."  I was physically present at home, but not emotionally and mentally.  My process of healing was just that - a process.  I plan in my next few blog posts to tell my story.  There are those who have experienced depression, and there are those who know others experiencing it.  Its my hope that if you're going through this, you will find comfort and courage as I recall my experience and what I've learned. If you haven't experienced it but you know someone going through this, you will gain more insight in how to help.  And, if you're pregnant and concerned about this, there are some things that can help in preventing.  I was told it gets worse with subsequent pregnancies.  I had to be very proactive and intentional and it was a fight, but I'm happy to say I did not suffer from it after my third birth.  Its good for me to get it out too, I haven't talked about it much but now its time. Here goes....

Yes, it comes back.

Ahhhh sex.  I was recently talking with a friend who had a young baby and we got on this subject. Oh how I don't miss the postpartum period for this reason!  The childbearing years are an interesting time for this. First, you go through the season of "trying" (well generally speaking).  If you ask my husband he will say its rather unfortunate that we got pregnant the with our first child the first month we tried, with our second child the second month we tried, and number 3 was a surprise.  It went from really really good to "I feel sick and bloated and have a headache" pretty quickly.  For some pregnant women, the extra sensitivity works in their favor.  For others, not so much.  I enjoyed sex when I was pregnant (well after the first trimester).  Sometimes I felt pretty sexy even with my big belly, but there were times I felt fat and unattractive.  And then you reach the point where you're so big no position works well or the pressure from the baby's head makes you detest thinking about anything else going on down there.  Then the baby comes and there's the famous 6 weeks.  Or some recommend more like 2 weeks.  Before we had kids, I had a close friend who asked her doctor to write her a prescription at her 6 week postpartum visit that said she needed to abstain from sex 6 more weeks.  I kid you not!  Sort of as a joke, but her husband believed her for a little while.  I thought, "Why the heck would anyone want to do that!"  Then I had my first baby.  After my baby tugged on my breasts all day and night long, the last thing I wanted was to be touched!  And also with nursing comes the absence of menses (this lasts different lengths of time for different women, mine lasted a year each time).  So everything is thin and dry and it just doesn't feel that great.  And, ovulation and sexual desire go hand in hand.  Even if you're bottle feeding and have your cycle back, you're feeling all the crazy hormones trying to adjust and lack of sleep and having a baby.  You can't devote as much time to your marriage as you used to.  I remember crying to a friend when my second baby was a few months old, "I would be okay if I never had sex again!  I have no desire and feel like it will never come back!"  Boy did that change at the end of that first year.  But only for a month and then I got pregnant again.  But, by the third time we understood.  My husband looked at me one night and said, "I know this is just a season, and after we get through it things will heat up again."  You see, we argued so much about it.  He thought I was frigid.  I felt like something was wrong with me.  He felt rejected and like I was no longer attracted to him. We were confused.  The best piece of advice I received regarding this was that a couple's sex life goes through seasons over the course of marriage, just as everything else does.  And don't get discouraged when you're in a dry one, the drought will end. Being married for 10 years, I've found that to be true.  I'm proud to say my youngest is 17 months old and I'm not pregnant!  Yahhooo!  The longest I've made it was to 15 months.  And times are good, really good for us.  So be encouraged.  Your body will come back (maybe not to where it was but you won't have a big basketball sticking out in front of you).  Your breasts will feel like objects for sexual pleasure and not merely functional again.  Your vagina will get back into shape.  And you will have desire!  Its hard to have a conversation with your spouse half the time, but the emotional connection is what feeds that physical intimacy.  So make time to talk and have quality time together.  And be a woman to the fullest, embrace your curves.  You're body was created to be beautiful and desirable, in any shape and size!  Put on some lingerie, light some candles, pour some wine, turn on some music, whatever you have to do to be in the mood, and enjoy that act that brought on your baby in the first place!  It will come back.

You're Worth It

Early Tuesday morning (like 1:45am early) I awoke to a phone call from my sister.  "I've been having steady contractions for a little while now.  They're starting to hurt, and they've changed in feeling and intensity from the ones I've had the past few weeks."  We talked more, she called her midwife, and concluded that she needed to go in and get checked out.  Being 2 1/2 hours out and knowing my sister's first labor was short (for a first labor), I decided to get my things packed and go on.  When I was almost there, I got the report.  "I'm ONLY 2 centimeters."  I could hear the disappointment and frustration in her voice.  "It was like a slap in the face."  I arrived at the birth center about 5am, and slept on the couch for half an hour or so.  Midwife checked her out a couple hours later, and a little progression but not enough for her to stay.  It could be 24 hours, it could be 48 hours...  I ended up coming back to Wilmington midday and time went by.  When I talked with my sister that night, she was feeling better about things, but still feeling heavy and confused and disappointed in her body, and somewhat shameful to those who stepped in to help.  First of all, we cannot control the process of birth (well not if we want to trust our bodies and let it happen naturally).  Birth is not a performance.  There is nothing to prove to anyone.  I reminded my sister to shake off any pressure she felt because it was not healthy and all of us supported her and the timing, whatever it was.  You see, not only did I have to drive 2 1/2 hours for the birth, the grandmother drove a distance to watch big brother, and my parents met my husband on the road (1 hour each way for both of them) to watch our children.  It took a lot of people making sacrifices to get ready for the birth.  Thursday morning, I received a call at 5am, and it was time.  I left after finishing breakfast with the kids and everyone got back into place again.  I made it to the birth center an hour before my niece was born, and loved every second I had to support my sister during the birth and after.  Most of us have a hard time asking for help.  Especially when people go out of their way, or its inconvenient to them.  Where did we learn that we're not worth the sacrifices of others?  Who told us we were an inconvenience?  Because its simply not true.  Birth is never "convenient."  Its unpredictable and sometimes labor starts and stops and always varies in the amount of time it takes.  Women (and babies), you are worth every sacrifice.  Every midwife that waits, watches, supports all night when she's been awake for a couple days already, because she believes in the natural process of birth. Every doctor that has to leave appointments, family, dinner.  Every nurse that works tireless shifts.  Every parent that watches your older children at home.  Every sister that leaves her family in someone's care and jumps through hoops so she can support you.  Every mother or father that takes off work to come be with you in the birth.  Every friend that receives a text and drops what she's doing to pray.  Every man that stands by your side, supports you, fans you, rubs your back, endures the blood, fluid, placenta, and listens through the "taking care of your swollen vagina" talk.  We are put here on this earth together because we need each other!  We can't do it alone, and the sacrifices we make for each other are absolutely worth it.  Don't forget it.

Gotta start somewhere

Pregnant beauties, unique labors, cuddly newborns, exhausted mommies, yes I am crazy about them all!  I'm a passionate person in general, and most things I enjoy I do so intensely, but I have a passion that has been burning stronger and more fierce over the past few years.  Birth. And all that surrounds it.  Why do I love it?  Many reasons.  But the main one is personal.  It transforms me into someone I wouldn't normally be.  I'm your typical Type A, gotta have everything in order kind of girl.  I like schedules, I like time lines, I like predictability.  I'm the choleric, loud footsteps, hands on hips, take charge, reformed control-freak (yes, reformed because I'm getting beyond this!)  Change and spontaneity are not my favorites. Pregnancy, birth, and mommy-hood = seriously uncomfortable unpredictability for me. Over the past few years, my birth experiences brought me outside of my personality in ways I never knew were possible.  Why am I starting a blog?  I hope that my personal thoughts and experiences will be something for other women to relate to.  I want women to know they are not alone in the whirlwind of all the positives and negatives of this motherhood thing.   I have so much inside, this seems to be a good way to get it out!  And you know, I have a dream to write books "one day."  I've heard from several well-known women authors that they wrote their first book when their kids were young, even when they had a nursing one.  I guess I'm a little behind, but I'm going to start with a blog and see how it goes...