Jozef's Birth Story, Part 2

I considered myself pretty well read on birth and induction, plus this would be my 4th time giving birth, and I had never heard of a foley bulb induction!! What a cool concept. Basically, a catheter with an inflated balloon is placed into the cervix. Once the balloon is inflated inside the cervix with a saline solution, it causes the cervix to dilate. Our Dr. explained that we could have the catheter placed the night before a planned induction to give my body time to adjust before breaking my water the following morning. Charles and I decided to have the catheter placed on Thursday evening, July 5th and then come back in to be admitted for the induction at 7am the following morning. I had no idea this was even an option! If my body responded well and I was sufficiently dilated then she would “induce” me by breaking my water.

I left that appointment feeling like a HUGE weight had been taken off my shoulders. I also felt like I could focus more of my mental energy on actually preparing for the birth itself instead of being stressed out about WHEN it was all going to happen. Wow, I should have scheduled this sooner, it would have made the last couple weeks much less stressful.

On Thursday, July 5th, I met Charles at the hospital at 4pm. We got checked into a triage room and monitored the baby for about the 10th time. My fundal height had been measuring 2 weeks behind for the past 6 weeks. They were concerned so referred me to a high-risk doctor for ultrasounds every 2 weeks since May 25. They said the baby was measuring small at about the 9-10% percentile and they encouraged me to be induced early which was ridiculous to me. Shouldn’t the baby stay inside my uterus and grow to full term if he’s measuring small?! I’m so glad we pushed back against their advice and that my primary OB also felt that there wasn’t a problem.

After the monitoring, which looked fine as usual, Dr. Hudson came in around 5pm to place the balloon in my cervix. It didn’t hurt, but it did feel uncomfortable. I definitely waddled out of there. During the placement, my mucus plug came out. Shortly after, I started to feel contractions. During dinner at home with my parents, they started to come every 10 minutes or so and I started to worry that I might not get any sleep that night. My dream has always been to start active labor in the morning after a good night’s sleep and that had never really happened. After dinner, they fizzled out a bit and I was simultaneously relieved (maybe I could sleep!) and also worried that maybe my body wasn’t responding well and the balloon wouldn’t dilate me at all. Birth brings out all my anxieties!

Around 10pm, we headed to bed. The contractions were sporadic and random and I was feeling grateful that I could finally *maybe* get a good night's sleep before active labor!

We woke up at 5am. I went to use the bathroom and the catheter had fallen out. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. They said once you were dilated to a 3, it falls out. So, I either thought I was at a 3 or more or that it had fallen out before I had the chance to dilate. So much anxiety, so many unknowns and so much possibility for pain! Looking back I know I added to my physical pain by me resisting the pain. Yet, even after the 4th time of practicing breathing into the pain and discomfort of labor, I still resist and cannot relax. It is just too intense for me to be focused on anything else except for when it will be over.

Charlie made me breakfast. Scrambled eggs with veggies and toast. I remember feeling starving during previous labors (because they wouldn’t let you eat) so I wanted to make sure I ate enough and had enough fuel to labor for who knew how long.

Sunrise as we left for the hospital

40 wks 3 days

We were supposed to check in at 7am and Charlie joked that I was going to be late since I frequently am. We woke up at 5am and my bag was already packed so I was confident that we’d have enough time. After we pulled out of the driveway, I remembered that we had forgotten the birth ball so we had to turn back. This took about 10 extra minutes so when we were about a mile away from the hospital, Charles pointed to the clock in the car that read 7:00. I was mad. This was no time to be joking about me being late when I was about to go through a really intense day!

As we got checked into the hospital and waited for our room to be ready, I told him I was angry about it and he apologized. I didn’t want to start this experience being angry. Gotta love pregnancy hormones!

They finally called us back and a kind nurse got me all set up. We monitored the baby and everything looked fine. I needed Charlie’s help to get the heplock inserted. How I hate those! Dr. Hudson finally came in at 8:30am. She checked me and I was at a 6! (and 90% effaced) I was not expecting that. I wasn’t really sure what to expect, but already being at a 6, without any pain, gave me the assurance that this was actually gonna happen TODAY and that I wouldn’t be laboring into the night and giving birth tomorrow.

At 8:35 she “ruptured my membranes” which I interpreted as “stripping my membranes” but, she actually broke my water, which I didn’t realize until I don’t even know when? After the birth? It’s all a blur.

Even though technically my cervix was dilated to 6, my body had not caught up to that fact since it was done by the balloon catheter. But, once the Dr broke my water, my body got the message.

For the next hour and a half, I had regular, moderately strong contractions. They were definitely manageable. I ate a second breakfast, posted on social media, listened to my birthing playlist, and tried to get baby anterior since he was posterior (like all my boys!). I told Charlie to have my parents drop Azure off to the hospital as she was going to be attending the birth and I had a feeling that things were about to get real. He went to the front of the hospital to meet them.

Shortly after, Marie, my doula arrived around 10:00am. We talked about how her sister knew our sister in law in Texas (small world). All the sudden while we were talking, the contractions got much more intense. I was trying to breathe and stay calm while she asked me what birthing affirmations I wanted to focus on. Then she asked if I wanted to take a walk to get things moving. I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea as I was starting to get really uncomfortable. As I braced myself for the next contraction and closed my eyes to get through it, I think she realized that wasn’t necessary.

Azure and Charlie finally came back around 10:30. He had been showing her his office down in the basement. I was relieved to see them. Everyone from my birthing team was here: Charlie, Azure, Marie. I was ready to get into the zone.

Back labor hit and with it, a dose of PTSD. Here I was, experiencing back labor for the 4th time. Even after all I had done to prevent it throughout all 4 of my pregnancies. Intentional sitting and posturing, inversions, special seats to keep my pelvis higher than my knees, nada. Clearly, it must have something to do with the shape of my uterus/pelvis as apparently nothing can prevent me from having back labor. Though I had originally thought I could possibly give birth without an epidural this time, the power of that back labor whispered something different to me. I knew I wasn’t going to last very long without some relief.

I leaned over the hospital bed while Marie and Charlie massaged my back and Azure held my hand. I was so grateful to have Azure there and a bit concerned about how she was feeling seeing me in such a vulnerable state.

My playlist did bring me some comfort as I inhaled deeply, focusing on the words to the music I had chosen: In Your Grace by Ajeet Kaur, Aap Sahaaee Hoa by Nirinjan Kaur, Ra Ma Da Sa by Snatam Kaur, Ad Guray Nameh and I Am.

Around 11, Marie asked if I wanted to get into the tub. I said yes, hoping a change of something would help. Maybe I could relax more in the tub? I took the hospital gown off and they helped me change into my sports bra so I could get into the tub with no bottoms. I had no qualms about being naked in front of everyone. I got in the tub at 11:20.

Unfortunately, the tub did not help and the back labor was getting more and more intense. I do remember resting my head on the edge of the tub and having Azure stroke my hair and rub my arm. It was a sweet moment between the pain I was feeling. I felt a few urges to push while in the tub, which was surprising and kind of exciting that it was progressing so fast, and also terrifying at the thought of what was to come. I started thinking about how I wanted an epidural for sure. I needed some respite from this pain. I got out of the tub at 11:45.

I had mentioned to Marie and Dr. Hudson before the birth that I wanted to try out the nitrous. Charlie didn’t think I’d like it much as I don’t like having out of body experiences. I think it was Marie that suggested we try the nitrous next. At 11:50 the nurse checked me and I was still at a 6. I felt as if I was about ready to push so this news stalled me a bit. How long was I going to have to go through with this? I was ready to try the nitrous, and if that didn’t help then an epidural for sure.

Even though I knew logically that nitrous doesn’t help with pain relief, I was disappointed that it wasn’t helping with my pain... at first. My back was killing me. I don’t know how to describe it other than it’s like an earthquake rumbling inside your body and all the pain is directed at my lower back. I started to panic. I had 4 people there helping me- my husband, my daughter, my doula, and the nurse. Even still, I felt completely alone. They were all trying to help me manage my pain, but no one could actually take the pain away, and I started to sob.

At 12:20, the nitrous not helping, I cried for an epidural. The nurse told me it would be a while as I had to have at least half the IV fluids beforehand. She hooked up the IV and I started to calm down a bit knowing that relief would soon be on the way. In the meantime, I started getting the hang of the nitrous mask and as I inhaled, the mask vibrated. The rhythmic nature of the vibration every time I inhaled calmed me and I was able to focus for a little bit. I started taking really deep breaths and thought that I could make it until the epidural came.

This focus only lasted 10 mins or so. I was holding myself up on my knees with my arms at the top of the hospital bed and I started to shake. I just wanted to lay down and rest. I was getting so tired. So, I switched positions lying upright on the hospital bed. As soon as I did that, I got a horrendous pain in my back and screamed out, “NO, NO, NO!” It was so disappointing thinking I might find relief here in this position only to find out that it was way worse. “Where is the anesthesiologist!? Are they coming!?” Apparently, I still needed more fluids. I looked at the IV bag to see if it was halfway yet, but I wasn’t wearing my glasses and everything was literally fuzzy. I couldn’t concentrate on anything because of the intensity of the pain.

At 12:25pm I finally told them that I was feeling the urge to push. They called for Dr. Hudson and I went back to the rhythmic vibrating of my nitrous mask, the only thing that helped me focus somewhat and take my mind off of the pain. Dr. Hudson came into the room and was observing me. I was getting really irritated that I didn’t have the epidural yet. She tried to check me in between contractions and I was so mad that anyone was putting their fingers up inside me at a time like this. It was so uncomfortable. I wanted to scream, “Stop! Get out of there!”

At 12:40, I was full on pushing (and pooping! whoops, shouldn’t have had a 2nd breakfast). At 12:51, I was fully dilated pushing on my hands and knees and sometimes holding onto the back of the hospital bed. I began groaning and Marie coached me, telling me to make the sound lower as I think I was doing it a little too high pitched? It wasn’t until I started groaning on hands and knees that I realized I wasn’t going to get the epidural and this was the home stretch. Baby was almost here and it was almost over. Praise God!

Azure in awe of all she's witnessing

Dr. Hudson reached between my legs as I pushed, checking his head. I actively pushed for about 12 minutes. I could feel his head crowning and don’t even remember if I felt the ring of fire. I tried to ease him out so I wouldn’t tear as I had with the boys, but it’s so hard for me because I just want it all to be over. I can’t process emotion in the moment when things are so intense. My throat began to burn from the groaning, and I was shaking. At 1:07, Jozef slipped out of my body and into this world.

It took me a while to stop moaning after the birth. I was so exhausted, it took me a minute or two to react to him being born. He was crying and then he peed on me lol. The maternal instincts took over as I tried to quiet and comfort him. As soon as I could, I sat down on the bed. I was still on hands and knees that whole time. I put him on my chest and finally looked at his little face. “You did it,” I said to him. I could strongly feel that he had been waiting a long time to come to Earth and to our family. There are 5½ years between him and Zeke and there were 3 miscarriages during that time. I don’t know if it had been him that whole time trying to come and gain a body, but I did feel that he was triumphant to finally be here now. Marie said, “You both did it!”

While I recovered, Azure helped Dr. Hudson cut the umbilical cord as I kind of sat and stared in a daze. That was so intense! The nurse and Marie and everyone kept saying how awesome I did and all I kept thinking was, “I’m never doing that again.”

They took his vitals while he was lying on me. He was 7lb 6.5oz. And, they had said he was measuring small! Dr. Hudson said I didn’t tear my perineum which was a first for me, but I did have a small labial tear.

I am so grateful that Azure witnessed the birth of her little brother. She cried as she watched him be born. And, once Vince came he cried, too. And, Zeke was so excited to see his new brother. What a miracle birth is.

Jozef's birth story. Part 1

We awoke to the alarm. 5am. Charlie always jokes that he's never seen me awake so early. He poked fun at me about it as we got out of bed. I smiled. I was cautiously optimistic that we would be having our baby that day. I had actually gotten a good night's sleep and didn't have painful contractions during the night! Starting labor in the morning after a full night's rest has long been on my birth wish list and it was looking like it might finally come true. I hate starting labor in the middle of the night because I don't like waking people up, yet laboring alone is emotionally devastating for me.

I’ve always had anxiety about the day my children would be born. With Azure, we knew the exact day she was conceived and so I figured that she would be born exactly 38 weeks from conception. I don’t know why I was so naive, but I insisted upon it. She was born 3 days later. And Vince was born 9 days late which was pure torture! Zeke was born 4 days late, but I kind of expected him to be born on Christmas day, which he was.

And so, this child was no different. The due date was July 3rd; knowing I’d go over I was really hoping for a 4th of July baby. At my 40 week appointment on Tues, July 3rd I was feeling super anxious. I hadn’t really had any contractions and I knew we weren’t going to be having a baby the next day. Our Dr asked what our plan was for going over. Did we just want to wait and see? “PLEASE NO!” I thought to myself. I’ve been down that road before and it was maddening.

I couldn’t bear the thought of still being pregnant over the weekend just waiting for things to happen on their own. Especially since my parents were flying out that Friday. Having someone waiting on me to have a baby is a huge contributing factor to my anxiety. We had already experienced that together with Vince's birth, 8 years prior when he was 9 days late, which is why I wanted them to come after the baby was born...

Since I’ve been a 3 time VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean), a planned induction has never been an option for me. Cervidil and Pitocin (to start) put too much risk on the cesarean incision. But even if it were an option, there is so much judgment and shame around planned inductions from the “natural” birth community. And unfortunately, that is what I was indoctrinated with during our first pregnancy 12 years ago.

So, when Dr. Hudson asked us what our plan was- I asked her what our options were with me being a VBAC. What she said BLEW ME AWAY!!

I love my body, yet I am more than my body

Over the past 5 years as I've worked as a health coach, I've personally talked to hundreds of women who have sought me out to help them with their health and weight loss, and inevitably body image issues have come up for almost all of them. The motivation to get healthy starts as somewhat of a base desire. "I want to feel more confident wearing a swimsuit." "I want to look good naked." "I want to feel good about my body while having sex with my husband." "I want to stop hating myself when I look at myself in the mirror."

While I understand where these women are coming from, it hurts my heart to hear it every time. Losing weight is not going to magically help you feel good about your body while having sex or looking at yourself naked in the mirror. These are issues that run MUCH DEEPER than just losing weight. And, it can take years of therapy and training your mind to banish such critical thoughts about your body.

I think all of us as women have struggled with body image issues to varying degrees in our lives. I am not immune to them, but overall I haven't felt like it's been a huge struggle in my life. Growing up, my mother would walk around the house naked. Of course, I thought nothing of it when I was quite young, but as I got older sometimes I was embarrassed and would mutter, "Put some clothes on Mom." Yet, in retrospect, I am so grateful to her for doing that. I distinctly remember one day, either in Jr. High or High School being in a checkout line in a grocery store and eyeing some magazine covers. Probably Cosmopolitan, and I saw a woman wearing hardly anything at all. Perfect perky boobs, no stretch marks, no cellulite... and you know what the first thing that popped into my mind was? "THAT'S NOT REAL."

I gauged it against my mother's body. My mother who had given birth to two children, who had stretch marks and cellulite and saggy boobs from nursing. Not to mention a c-section scar. I'm so grateful to her for teaching me in a subtle way what a real women's body looked like.

I also attribute my views on body image to my church and religion. Studying the scriptures in my teen years about how my body is a temple and how God wanted me to practice virtue and chastity and wait until I was married to have sex, made a huge impact on how I viewed my body. I knew that it was a gift and that I was to respect it and I expected others to respect it as well.

It wasn't until I gave birth to my first child that I grew to admire and appreciate my body fully. Wow. How incredible are our bodies to conceive and grow and give birth to another body!? And how miraculous that our breasts produce milk to nurture and give nutrients to another tiny human?! Let's celebrate the miraculous things our bodies can do, because they are incredible. Regardless if you've given birth or not.

And, sometimes your body will fail. You won't be able to conceive. You won't be able to carry a child to term. You may be diagnosed with a debilitating disease that will one day take your life. In those moments we can give thanks for what our body HAS done and know that though our bodies are indeed incredible, we are more than just a body.

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Pregnancy #8

I am 16 weeks along with our 4th baby. I am so grateful that we've made it this far. I am still nervous about having another miscarriage so I've had ultrasounds every week the first few weeks and now every 2 weeks until I can start feeling the baby move more consistently.

We got to see him again this morning (Azure and Zeke came along) and hear his heartbeat. Azure loved seeing his little feet move. Such a relief! I'm pretty much out of the woods now, yet I am still anxious having had 4 miscarriages.

I'm still processing my feelings of losing our twins in our last pregnancy this past August. I had a feeling it was one girl and one boy. And, because I have felt the presence of our unborn daughter since April 2010, I figured it was Azalea who was coming, but it's a boy. And, it's been hard to understand since I am 99% sure this will be our last child. I don't feel like I could handle 5. I'm not sure how I'll handle 4!!  And, 5 kids is a lot. I've learned since having children that I'm not a "kid person". I highly value my alone time and lots of kids underfoot needing things from me is not good for my mental health. So, I'm left pondering- do we just wait until the millennium to have Azalea? Is it some kind of test of faith to see if we should indeed have 5? I'm not even completely sure it would be her next time. What if it were another boy? I feel like God values my agency and allows me to make a choice. So, what do I choose? Sigh. Kinda heavy topics...

I already found a doula! For so long, not having viable pregnancies, I haven't even thought about birth, but as soon as we had our ultrasound at 14 weeks and things looked good, I let myself go there and it felt good. Some of you may remember long ago, I used to really love all things birth related. But, I must say that I became disillusioned with birth fanatics especially those from the "natural" birth camp. I know that birth is an important and sacred event, but they put so much pressure and value on it as if everything about your relationship with that child depends on your birth experience with them. B.S. I just couldn't stand their extremity or their narrow-minded view anymore. But, I still love doulas and definitely need the emotional and physical support during labor, so I am happy to have found one. There are so many more options here in Boise than there were in Savannah which is so nice. 

I am looking forward to giving birth to this baby boy. Birth has been difficult for me and it brings up abandonment issues and PTSD, but it is also so exhilarating and awe-inspiring. I am so grateful that I get to do it again.

My not-so-little girl

We are entering in a new stage of life. This year Azure is in the 5th grade. She has a male teacher and I'm so glad. Something about having a teacher of the opposite gender at that age gives you confidence. Not sure if it's the same way for boys. I had a male teacher in 6th grade for only a few months, Mr. Martinez, and he was so fun. He had this vibe that just naturally quelled girl drama in our classroom. Unfortunately, he got another job and we got a new female teacher who started off unhappy with the whole setup coming in late and all and it was just an awful year all around.

It's a hard time of life when you want to be a little more grown up, but are still a child. When you feel all sorts of different emotions at once and you're not sure which one to act on. When you feel like no one understands you.

We're gearing up for these years- planning lots of one-on-one time, daddy-daughter dates, mommy-daughter dates. Homeschool for the middle school years is an option we're highly considering to instill more confidence and a slower pace of life, less competition and distraction to focus on things that truly matter- the gospel, faith, family, service, relationships.

She's been wanting a new bike so we decided that she could earn money by baking because she loves to bake cornbread. I gave her a pumpkin bread recipe while I was working on my lesson for church and she did the whole thing. It came out amazing! So, it was decided that she could sell the loaves she baked to earn money. So wonderful to watch her learn the value of work.  We bought her new mountain bike yesterday!

This summer she got into watching Charlie play Zelda much to my chagrin and started playing herself. Apparently some of her friends play too and they've been talking about the game and coming over to play. I've had to accept the fact that my daughter is a bit of a gamer and that it's something she enjoys. Parenthood is hard sometimes haha.

Hard to believe our little cub has been alive for a whole decade already. She is still one of my best friends and I love her so!

The Mother's Day That Changed My Life

Mother’s Day evokes lots of emotions. Five years ago, the day before Mother’s Day, a “friend” of mine handed me a parenting book. She said that she had been observing me the last few months and that it was painful for her to watch me interact with my daughter, who was three at the time.  I was completely dumbfounded. The last few months that she had been “observing” me I had been struggling. My husband was doing rotations for Pharmacy School in another state, leaving me a single mother to take care of two small children. I didn’t have many close friends and was lacking in emotional support. My family lived over 2,000 miles away on the other side of the country. I sometimes went days without talking to an adult besides my husband on the phone or on the weekends when he’d come home from North Carolina.

Yes, I admit my three year old and I went head to head frequently. Her stubbornness exceeded mine and we often had power struggles especially as she became more and more articulate. My second child, who had been extremely calm the first year of his life all the sudden became very  demanding and clingy after turning one. My patience was stretched so thin, I often felt as if my entire being had completely disappeared. I didn’t know who I was. I had lost myself in motherhood. Since my husband was gone, I could pray aloud and I often wept as I prayed to God to help me. I hated that I lost my temper daily and that I yelled. I had hoped that after enduring that in my own childhood that I would be better. But, I wasn’t and I was so shameful and disappointed in myself.  

To make a long story short, that was the worst Mother’s Day I have ever had. For a long time after this incident I put up walls around me. It’s one of the most painful experiences that I’ve had (this is only the shortened version) and I didn’t want to open myself up again to “friends” who were taking notes on all my parenting flaws. Sometimes I still struggle with social anxiety, especially when my children are misbehaving in public and I feel like all eyes are on me. I’m so grateful for true friends who love me and when they see me struggle with a child, they come to my aid and help distract or just put their arms around me and tell me they’ve been there, that they understand, that parenting is hard, and just listen to my frustrations instead of handing me a parenting book.

Five years have past and this Mother’s Day is so strikingly different. I awoke this morning to my husband making me breakfast in our new home that we just bought two months ago. My daughter who is now eight, set the table for me with my favorite plate and her and my now 6 year old son laid out all the gifts they had made me in school on the table. My three year son ran into my room with just his diaper on, his blonde curls bouncing in the morning sunlight.

Over the past five years, I’ve grown into motherhood and am more confident about my role. I understand myself better and am more vocal about what I can and can’t handle. I schedule time for myself and take breaks from my children. That doesn’t mean I don’t love them. In fact, it means that I love them too much to give them a ragged spiritually and emotionally distraught mother. I want them to have the best of me. And, for that to happen, I have to have time alone every day. I am finding my place. I realize now that there are different seasons in motherhood. Some seasons are less demanding than others.

So, on this Mother’s Day if you find yourself lacking and feeling guilty for not being the mother you’ve always wanted, I say with Jeffrey Holland, an apostle of Jesus Christ, “Be peaceful. Believe in God and yourself. You are doing better than you think you are.”

This experience has made me more empathetic to mothers who are struggling and feel overwhelmed. Instead of judging and critiquing, let us lift each other up. “No love in mortality comes closer to approximating the pure love of Jesus Christ than the selfless love a devoted mother has for her child.” And, when that love is tested and at times becomes unbearable, let us encourage one another.

3 SIMPLE THINGS YOU CAN DO RIGHT NOW FOR INCREASED ENERGY & WEIGHT LOSS

Here are 3 things you can do starting NOW for increased energy and weight loss.

1) Eat a high protein breakfast within 1 hour of waking up. Food is fuel. Get your metabolism going.

2) Continue to eat protein/carb balanced meals (just as much protein as carbs) every 2-3 hours throughout the day to keep your blood sugar balanced and metabolism revved up. Don’t go over 3 hours without eating.

3) Drink at least half your body weight in ounces of water. Get a water bottle you like to keep track. Guzzle down 20-30 oz within an hour of waking up. The earlier you get your water in, the better.

Healthy Italian Wedding Soup

Total time: 1 hr 15 minPrep: 30 min
Cook: 45 min

Yield: 8 servings
Level: Easy

Ingredients

For the meatballs:
1 1/2 pounds of ground meat (turkey/beef/chicken)
2/3 cup fresh bread crumbs
2 teaspoons minced garlic (2 cloves)
3 tablespoons chopped fresh basil leaves
1/4 cup freshly grated Pecorino Romano
1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan, plus extra for serving
3 tablespoons milk
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the soup:

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 cup minced yellow onion
1 cup diced carrots (3 carrots), cut into 1/4 inch pieces
3/4 cup diced celery (2 stalks), cut into 1/4 inch pieces
10 cups chicken broth
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
1/2 cup red quinoa
12 ounces baby spinach, washed and trimmed
1 lemon

Instructions: 

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

For the meatballs, place the ground meat, bread crumbs, garlic, basil, Pecorino, Parmesan, milk, egg, dash of salt, 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper in a bowl and combine gently with a fork. With a teaspoon, drop 1 to 1 1/4-inch meatballs onto a sheet pan lined with parchment paper. (You should have about 40 meatballs. They don’t have to be perfectly round.) Bake for 30 minutes, until cooked through and lightly browned. Set aside.

In the meantime, for the soup, heat the olive oil over medium-low heat in a large heavy-bottomed soup pot. Add the onion, carrots, and celery and saute until softened, 5 to 6 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the chicken stock and bring to a boil. Add the quinoa to the simmering broth and cook for 10 minutes, until the quinoa spiralizes. Add 1/2 cup of balsamic vinegar and then the meatballs to the soup and simmer for 1 minute. Taste for salt and pepper. Stir in the fresh spinach and cook for 1 minute, until the spinach is just wilted. Ladle into soup bowls and sprinkle each serving with extra grated Parmesan and a squirt of lemon juice.

Recipe adapted from Ina Garten.

Citrus Basil Strawberry Chia Jam

Makes 2 12 oz jars.

Ingredients

4 cups of clean, hulled strawberries

2-3 TBS chia seeds

2 TBS honey

1/2 tsp stevia

1-2 large basil leaves

2-3 segments of a sweet mandarin (I love Satsumas & Honey)

Instructions

Place everything into a blender. Blend until smooth consistency and then pour into jars. Place in refrigerator.

Notes

If you add 3 or more orange segments, make sure to add 3 TBS chia. The chia seeds act like pectin and will gel in the fridge, making it a thicker consistency. If you love basil, go ahead and add more leaves  Our family uses this as a mix in for plain Greek yogurt, as a topping on German pancakes, and even in smoothies. Enjoy!

Zekiel turns 3 and a half

An update on Zekiel who recently turned 3 1/2. 3 has been a good age! Lots of improvement from age 1 and 2 which were hard, hard, hard. The biggest thing has been learning about his sensory issues. I wish I had been able to identify them earlier, it would have helped our relationship. He needs almost constant movement as a sensory seeker and we just didn't know. It makes so much sense now.

He started a specialized preschool in January. He'll go back in August. Tues-Fri 8:30am-12pm. It's been a game changer for our relationship. I've needed a break for the last 2 years. In January 2015 I started putting him in day care once a week but that only lasted 2 months since we moved to Boise. I am so grateful that he gets the stimulation he needs and that I get a break. I am much more patient with him when we get regular breaks from each other :)

This past week he's been "doing his workbook" since Azure and Vince have some summer ones they are working on. That involves him talking out loud about what he sees in the pictures and making up a story. It is the cutest. I remember Azure doing this before turning 2. Vince probably around 2 1/2. It is so fulfilling to see Zeke's verbal skills develop. He loves to sing songs and read books. Tonight before bed I sat in his room and watched him play with his letters from the Letter Factory song box he has. He asked me what every letter was and then put it in and listened to the song. He kept asking, "What's this? A for turtle?" for about 10 different letters. On one of them I said, "That's a P for....." I was trying to think of a word he'd recognize that starts with P and he blurted out, "Popcorn!" It is so heart warming for me to connect with him like that! Like we're really communicating, like we really understand each other. With all the frustration, times like these have been hard to come by. I am so grateful for this connection.

He also started going to Sunbeams in January so he's been expected to sit for short periods of time and follow directions. He's getting better. I'm getting better.

Sure love this face! And, those curls. And, his heart. I thank God for keeping His promise to me and giving my baby back to me on Christmas Day. Truly one of the best gifts I've ever been given <3 p="">

Not so sweet November

Most of you know that Spring is my favorite. I love warm weather. Growing up in CA, November was the month it started getting a little more chilly. And, though I did love the chance to finally wear a sweater, November wasn't ever my favorite. In the Fall of 1998 my parents finally gave me permission to be baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The missionaries asked when I'd like to get baptized. 'Right away!' was my first thought. But, then I realized it was approaching winter. I've always had a thing for dates. I thought, 'Maybe I should wait till Spring and my birthday as a real symbol of my rebirth.' But, I had been waiting for years already. It was a real struggle in my mind but, I finally decided on November 15 with the thought that November was the month of Thanksgiving and gratitude, so that it would be fitting for me.

A few years later, the movie "Sweet November" came out (not the greatest movie by the way). Thinking of my baptism, I had a new love for November. It was sweet. Since then I have deemed November as my "grateful month." However, this past November I didn't feel very grateful. I fought hard to see the joy in my life, but most days I couldn't. I was swallowed up in darkness and despair and wished that my life would end.

On Saturday October 10th we found out we were expecting. That was quite the surprise! Some of you know that I miscarried last year in March/April. We had planned to take a little longer than 5 months to try again. After the initial shock wore off, we were excited. Yet, I didn't let myself get too attached. I had already experienced 2 miscarriages and I knew that it wouldn't be the real deal until I started feeling nauseated. That usually happens on week 6. Week 6 came and I wasn't feeling too nauseous, so I called the midwife and they were so kind to let me come in and do a blood draw to find out what my hCG levels were just "to ease my mind." I was a new patient and had never been seen before so I was incredibly grateful they were willing to do that for me.

The plan was to get my levels checked Thursday and then again Monday to see if they were going up or not. That night was the first time I started feeling a bit nauseous. They called back on Friday and told me my levels were high enough that I didn't need to get my blood drawn again and that I could come in on Monday for a vaginal ultrasound. I was shocked. Maybe this is the real deal after all? Maybe it's high because we're having twins? (While meditating on my favorite tree stump in the woods in Savannah in October 2014,  I saw 2 newborn babies who I recognized as my own).

Monday morning I went in for the ultrasound. It was right across the street from the hospital where Charles worked so I was hopeful he could come in with me. I was expecting to hear there was either no heartbeat or 2 heartbeats. The ultrasound tech came in, followed by Charlie! I was relieved to have him there. He hasn't been able to get away as frequently with this new job. Vince and Zeke were also there and they were captivated by the screen. And, then... we saw the heartbeat! I was a little shocked. Why haven't I thrown up yet? Then we got to see the sweet little profile and everything finally started to become real. Charles was all smiles. "Are you sure there's only one heartbeat in there?" "Yep, just one." Weird. She put on the audio so we could also hear the heartbeat. Oh, how I love that sound. It's so reassuring that everything is ok.

At this same time I had a boil type thing on my left foot. I had had it for about 2 weeks but, it had started growing and filling up with liquid. It was itchy so I thought perhaps it was Poison Ivy. Interestingly enough I got poison ivy that same day I had meditated on my tree stump and saw the babies, and it looked somewhat similar. The same day we found out we were pregnant we took family pictures down by the river. We hiked down to get there and I was wearing flats with no socks. Hmmm, I must have gotten it there. I had also been wearing those same shoes rubbing that awful, toxic oil all over my foot unbeknownst to me!

It was pretty manageable until Fri October 30. I wore some new boots which really aggravated the boil, popping the blister and causing an infection (unbeknownst to me). We went to a Halloween party Fri night and I couldn't wear shoes it was so bad. We walked around Sat night trick or treating (which I probably shouldn't have done) and made it even worse. Sunday November 1st the throbbing was so bad I couldn't go to church. That was also the day Daylight Savings ended. Sigh. My entire body started itching and I had red dots all over my back and stomach. (This might have been a "stress" rash.) I started to freak out. Pregnancy hormones + increasing unknown itchiness + emotional distress + cold and darkness, did not bode well for my emotional/mental state. It was a horrible day.

The next day I went to Urgent Care and the Dr. said it did look like poison ivy but, with the "weeping" wound, it had also turned into a bacterial infection. He gave me some topical anti-bacterial ointment and over the next few days it started to get a little bit better.

But, emotionally I was still not feeling well. It was dark and cold and I was missing Savannah. I was working with a specialist to help Zeke with his self regulation and sensory issues and the case worker exacerbated my anxiety and depression. Zeke, in addition to his daily tantrums, also caught a virus and threw up several times over the course of 2 weeks. Cleaning up vomit from carpet is fun! I try to have our Christmas cards designed before Thanksgiving so I was working on those. At the end of our card, I wrote: Love, Charles, Deanna, Azure, Vincenzo, Ezekiel, and baby.

And, then it just didn't feel right. I had a sinking feeling. The next day I called the midwife and asked if I could come in again to check the heartbeat. I didn't want to finalize these cards if I wasn't in fact pregnant anymore. I wanted Charles to come with me but, my phone was acting weird and he doesn't get cell service in the basement of the hospital, so it was just me and Zeke.

First she tried with the doppler but, it didn't work. Then we went back into the ultrasound room for the vaginal ultrasound. Zeke was taking things out of my bag so I was distracted and not looking at the screen. The midwife put her hand on my shoulder and then I looked at the screen and then at the face of the ultrasound tech. "I'm so sorry. There's nothing there."

I was numb. I had a feeling this would happen, yet we had heard the heartbeat only 2 weeks before. I hadn't thrown up, yet was feeling nauseous and had gained almost 10 pounds. To be honest, part of me was relieved. A voice in my head said, "Well, you didn't want to be pregnant anyway." "Now you don't have to wear frumpy maternity pants." This is what my brain does to keep me from feeling sadness.

The midwife tried to "debrief" me with recommending a book and though I could tell her intentions were pure, she clearly didn't understand me or my situation and her "help" made me feel worse.

As we left the office and drove to Winco, the tears came. Gratefully, it was a Thursday which meant I had choir rehearsal. The music and lyrics were pure peace to my soul, a healing balm.

“For a little while Have I forsaken thee; But with great mercies will I gather thee.In a little wrath I hid my face from them. For a moment.But, with everlasting kindness will I gather thee,And with mercy will I take thee ‘neath my wings.For the mountains shall depart and the hills shall be removed and the valleys shall be lost beneath the sea.But, know my child, My kindness shall not depart from thee!Though thine afflictions seem at times too great to bear,I know thine every thought and every care.And though the very jaws of hell gape after thee,I am with thee. And with everlasting mercy will I succor thee,And will healing will I take thee ‘neath my wingsHow long can rolling waters remain impure?What power can stay the hand of God?The Son of Man hath descended below all things.Art thou greater than He?So hold on thy way,For I shall be with thee.And mine angels shall encircle thee.Doubt not what thou knowest,Fear not man, for heCannot hurt thee.My kindness shall not depart from thee!”

I didn't start bleeding until a week later. And, then the cramping started on Thanksgiving. Though it was a bleak time, both literally and figuratively, I did manage to get through by the grace of God. I fought hard to see the joy in the snow fall and planned fun winter activities with the kids like sledding and tubing. Charles and I laughed when he made hot chocolate in the Blendtec and it splattered all over the kitchen. I'm grateful for those small moments of joy amid the weeks of crying and confusion.

Joy cometh in the morning. Sunday will come. Rainbows come after the rain. There is beauty all around.

I'll Love You Forever

I remember the first time I knew for certain that I wanted to be a mother. It was in 4th grade, Mrs. Prince's class. Our classroom was combined with another 4th grade class, Mr. Beckley's. On this occasion, we combined together in the middle of our classrooms and had story time, maybe it was for Mother's day 1990. I would have been 9. Either Mrs. Prince or Mr. Beckley read, "I'll Love You Forever" to us. I had never heard of it before but, I remember as they read I was moved to tears. I was so deeply touched by it's message and felt such great love for my own mother and also a longing in my heart for my future children.

We drove by Azure's school this evening on our way to drop Charlie off at the trail head for his solo camping trip. This wave of nostalgia washed over me. It won't just be Azure's school come August. It will be Vince's too. And, to quote Azure "it will be Zekiel's school, too if we stay here long enough." School starts in 2 months. Time is going by quickly, yet as I wrote in my last post, it doesn't go by fast enough sometimes.

Time is such a strange phenomenon. The paradox of it speeding by and dragging on boggles my mind. The honest truth is sometimes I dread being a mother. It's so overwhelming and thankless some days. So much pressure to raise these needy human beings into something magnificent, when I myself am lacking. So many interruptions. Too much whining and noise. Yet, nothing in this world means more to me than being a mother, other than being a wife.

I know that as women we have a divine longing to nurture children that we inherited from our Heavenly Mother. But, just as anything, this feeling waxes and wanes at times. Though we can not deny that it is there underneath the frustration and confusion. Motherhood matters. Marriage matters. Today is a sad day in history for the United States. The divine institution of marriage has been redefined by our government in the name of love and tolerance.

In college, a lot of my major focused on The Family: A Proclamation to the World. I love that document and I believe it to be the word of God Himself. I want my children to know that I will love them forever and that I will forever do my best to live and defend the teachings of Jesus Christ including "maintaining and strengthening the family as the fundamental unit of society."

Time hurry up, time slow down

This evening we wanted to take a drive to the Boise National Forest to see some land that we are considering purchasing for a home. Charles has been up there a few times, yet I have not. But, just before dinner Zeke was running around screaming, biting Vince, and throwing things around. We knew if we made the drive, he would just scream the whole way and everyone would be miserable so we decided not to go.

He is almost 2 and a half and he's been doing this since he was 9 months old or so. (the screaming in the car) This is a long stage and we're tired of it. It's amazing that we take as many trips as we do with him. It gets increasingly more difficult. I am always in awe to see how calm other children are his age. I guess Vince was pretty laid back, at least in the car.

The passing of time is such a strange phenomenon. Last night, I emptied out my Caboodle that I've had since 1995 or so. I had old makeup in there from 8th grade! As I opened the lid to my old lip glosses the scent overcame me and I was transported back to those times. Was that really 20 years ago?! 20 years ago I was 14.

So, I know that this stage will pass in the blink of an eye, but it doesn't make it any easier now. And, it is so unhelpful for people to say "Enjoy every moment." I think it's not only ok, but that it is healthy to acknowledge that things are hard and disappointing.

I vow to never say to young mothers when I am a grandmother, "Enjoy every moment." Some moments suck and that's ok. That is life. I want to look back and remember the good more than the bad, yet I don't want to forget that this is hard. And, even though it's hard, I still feel deeply satisfied with my life which is strange.

Time hurry up, time slow down...

Settling in

April was a crazy month as well. We love our new house. Our backyard is landscaped so nicely and it is fairly large. Larger than we've ever had. We have lots of big windows that let in lots of natural light and it's glorious. We even have a sunroom :) There is a walking path behind our house that leads right to Azure's new school. Trail Wind Elementary is rated a 9 out of 10 and is less than a mile from our house. She walks to and from school everyday! What a big girl! So crazy! I'm grateful for her new sense of freedom and the time she has to ponder and pray as she walks alone. What a great time in life. This stage is truly a fulfillment of our heartfelt prayers since before Charles and I even met. How wonderful!

Though, we are still living out of boxes. Nothing hangs on our walls as of yet. I'm struggling to find something to replace Vince's preschool. Our activities together last no longer than 20 mins usually. He still has a hard time playing independently. He usually needs me, Zeke or Azure to play with. We'll just have to wait for summer camps and then Kindergarten in Aug.

 

Zeke continues to be difficult. While he was staying with his grandparents, he got a bacterial infection on his finger somehow. He was on antibiotics and his fingernail recently fell off. He's all better, but the nail still looks disgusting. He has at least one tantrum a day. I'm looking into energy healing for him as it feels he has some trapped anger inside him. If anyone has any experience with that, please let me know. When he's happy he is a complete joy and his curly, blonde hair enraptures me and I am smitten with him and his sweet sounding voice. He is now saying Vince's name very clearly which I think started right before we moved at the end of March, but it wasn't until we got here that he started saying it daily.

He drove us to lunacy for about 4 weeks (last 2 wks of March and beginning of April) by taking off his diaper and flinging and smearing his feces all over the place. So badly, that we had to throw out the pack and play that I received as a gift from my freshman roommate at Azure's baby shower. He started doing it the first day he slept in the pack and play after Charles dissembled his crib back in Savannah. He continued to do it nightly on our trip out here, in the hotel and at our friend's homes. He got poop all over Cabe's carpet and his grandparent's. 

I even pinned him, but he took both pins off! We finally wised up on how to do it, so it stopped. It was a rough time cleaning up poop everyday for weeks as we were moving and trying to unpack. I completely snapped our first Sunday here in the house when he did it for the 20th time while Charles and I were napping. Sigh. So grateful our new pin technique is working and we haven't had to clean it up since that Sunday.

 
Nothing is perfect, but I feel a deep satisfaction with our current stage of life. I am madly in love with Charles with each passing day and we're working as a team to raise our children together in the gospel of Jesus Christ. Flying feces, high pitched screams, and towering boxes aside, life is good.