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.

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.

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...

Overdue Thoughts

After Azure was born it was pretty apparent that motherhood was a refining process and that had I not had the opportunity to bare children, I would not learn the lessons I needed to, to return home to my Heavenly Father. Now, I know that is not a requirement to return to heaven, but I felt it was for me personally.

I am not a patient person generally and I am quick to anger and irritation. What better way to learn patience than by having children and dealing with incessant whining, screaming, spills, messes, and a slew of bodily functions?! I admit that I actually don’t know how much more patient I am now as a mother of 3 than I was of 1 or even before I had children at all. But, I think and I sure hope that it has improved. Many times I ask in my prayers to help me remember that our children are just children.

On Tuesday Azure came to me frustrated about a quarrel with Vince. “He’s hitting me and not being nice.” “Do you know why he’s doing that?” I asked. “He’s tired and won’t take a nap so he doesn’t know what else to do.” We talked briefly about seeing beyond someone’s actions and trying to understand the reason why people act the way they do. During this conversation Zeke, who I had put down for a nap, was clearly not napping and became louder and louder. So, I decided to just get him out since nap time was not going to happen.

As soon as I opened the door, a pungent odor filled my nostrils, so I turned on the light to verify my initial fear. Sure enough he had taken his diaper off (my mistake as I had put him to sleep in only a diaper since we had just gotten home from the beach) and had flung feces all around the room. I walked over to the window to pull up the blackout curtains and as my eyes adjusted to the lighting in the room, I stepped on something semi-warm and squishy. “Ahhhh! Why? WHY?! WHY?!?!” I was mad at myself for putting him down unclothed and my thoughts raced to all that I had to get done and how it was going to take a long time to clean this up.

Azure and Vince ran in to see what I was hollering about and kind of stood there shocked and disgusted at the scene of poop all over the floor and smeared across the wall and crib slats. “Ewww! Why did Zekiel do that?” Vince asked. And, then I just started laughing. Luckily Vince had never done that so the last time I had to scrub poop off the crib slats was 5 yrs ago. I guess I was overdo for this. I asked Azure if she wanted to help me pick it up since she had done the same exact thing when she was a baby and I had to clean it all up. She said, “Do I have to? I was only a baby.”

As luck would have it, there was only one antibacterial wipe left. So, I texted Charlie to pick up some more on his way home from work. I picked up what I could and then laid down for a nap. Being in the sun at the beach for 2 hrs plus picking up poop had drained me. Charles is a saint and scrubbed the crib when he got home. I love him!

I’ve written some about this before but, shortly after Vince was born I felt the presence of our unborn daughter in the temple while I was doing iniatories. Vince was only about 6 wks old and I was losing my temper multiple times a day with Azure. (After Zeke was born, I struggled w/ the same thing w/ Vince.) I felt badly about it and spoke to our unborn daughter telling her that I was trying to be a better mommy and that by the time she was born I would be better.

This last year has been full of personal growth mostly due to becoming a health coach and helping other’s with their health. Before my clients start the health program they take a health quiz to find out their starting point. If you don’t know where you currently stand, then it’s hard to make a significant change towards what you want. When I took the quiz, I scored pretty high on the healthy body and healthy eating habits section, but pretty low on the healthy mind section. I obviously knew that I had been struggling, but again I came to grips that I was not “healthy.”

I made a decision that I wanted to be healthy not only for me, but for my children. After all, it was because I was so emotionally and mentally unhealthy 3 years ago, that I was unable to have another baby and then when I finally did, I miscarried. I owe it to my children to be emotionally and mentally healthy. I think all mothers need time away from their children to rejuvenate and work on their personal development in order to be a better mother. The amount of that time varies with each person and different circumstances and stages of life.

Last month there was a leadership conference called Go Global in Austin, Texas. You had to qualify to attend. In December of last year, I qualified to go but, wasn’t sure if I really wanted to.  I was struggling with the decision and felt like if I went, it meant I was choosing a career over my children. I not only coach clients, but, I’m also a mentor coach to other coaches to help them grow their business. One of my clients who is now also a coach works full-time outside the home and is hoping to do well enough w/ her coaching business so that she can quit her full-time job and be a stay-at-home-mom for the first time. She has 2 children and has never been home with them. I am excited to help her achieve that goal in the next few months.

I love Savannah because it is so wooded. It’s a city within a forest. You can find a “Sacred Grove” within a mile of wherever you are. 3 weeks before Go Global I went for a run in the woods and then sat down on a tree trunk and prayed out loud. I was trying to decide if I should go. I often receive clear answers to prayer, but this was a very special experience (probably b/c I was alone in the woods). I felt that I should go FOR my children, not in spite of them. “Take these broken wings and learn to fly,” kept coming to my mind. “This conference will help me be a better mother to my children.” So I went. And, I’m so grateful I did. There were many LDS mothers there who have many children. One of them was pregnant with her 5^th. Did I think because she came, she was choosing a career over her children? NO! Absolutely not. Then why was I putting that limitation on myself?

I want my children to know that motherhood is the highest calling and of utmost importance. And, that in order to be a good mother, you have to continually be working on yourself as a woman, and as a person. There is nothing more fulfilling in my life than being Azure, Vince, and Ezekiel's mother. Nothing.

Words can't express how much I love these precious souls. I need them just as much or maybe even more than they need me. I'm grateful for my own mother who taught me how to love and nurture through her selfless example. I'm grateful for so many women and friends (all of you!) who have taught me the eternal significance of motherhood and who have mothered me and my children. I'm also so grateful to Charles who made me a mother.

On Nest Building

I read this poem a couple yrs ago and tucked it away to be posted on the blog at some future date. I planned on putting it in my "You don't know what you don't know" post but, forgot. So, now it gets it own separate post.

On Nest Building
by Carol Lynn Pearson

Mud is not bad for nest building.

Mud and sticks.

And a fallen feather or two will do

And require no reaching.

I could rest there with my tiny ones

Sound for the season, at least.

But

If I may fly a while--

If I may cut through a sunset going out

And a rainbow coming back

Color upon color sealed in my eyes--

If I may have the unboundaried skies

For my study

Clouds, cities, rivers for my rooms--

If I may search the centuries

For melody and meaning--

If I may try for the sun--

I shall come back

Bearing such beauties

Gleaned from God's and the world's very best.

I shall come filled.

And then--

Oh, the nest I can build!

You don't know, what you don't know

A couple wks ago Charles got off early from work. We had just pulled up to visit him there, so I took advantage of the opportunity and had him take all 3 children home and I drove his car to do some shopping. My friend Courtney is an interior designer and I recently hired her to come help me re-design our living room and bedroom. Let me just say that again: I hired an interior designer. I have always wanted to hire an interior designer. Rearranging furniture and deciding on coordinating items for rooms is not a talent of mine. I can peruse Pinterest all day and find hundreds of things I like but, have no clue how to even make it work in my own home. Regardless if there is a tutorial.

So, Courtney and I went looking for some things together and she offered some advice as we looked at chairs. I took notes.

When I went back to look by myself, without 3 kids all over me, I felt like I had uncovered a part of me that has been dormant for a very long time. It felt so liberating to go to 6 stores in 2 hrs and GET STUFF DONE. In the middle of the day, I might add. I usually can go somewhere at night when they're all in bed but, by that time I'm exhausted. I would be lucky to go to 2 stores in that time had I taken the kids. Loading and unloading the carseat. Buckling and unbuckling. And it takes about 5 whole minutes to buckle Zeke in b/c of his ninja moves. He grabs the buckle with full force, thrusts it into his mouth, and will not let go. It's a literal tug of war, wrestling match every day with him.

I have not had enough brain space to think about how to decorate my house previously. Sure, I've had fleeting thoughts about it, but, never enough time to invest in actually doing something or the money either. I have been changing at least 1 diaper everyday for the past 6 yrs now! Usually, more than 1, but at least one. Every day. A lot of times I feel not only is my body not my own, but neither is my mind. I'm not allowed to sit and think without being constantly interrupted.

It is liberating to spend time cultivating interests and talents of mine that don’t involve the children. If you were to ask me how I’m doing with 3, I honestly would say, “Good.” I mean, it is a lot but, I don’t feel like I have PPD. It's such a blessing that Charles is so helpful and supportive now, too. I like not having a newborn while he's a student or resident :) But, I do have days when I just want them all to go somewhere else. Such is the life of a mother with small children. I know. And, I know I chose this, and I am happy with that decision. I'm just being real. This is hard. Having 3 at home is hard. But, at the same time 3 feels easier than just 1 did. Isn't that strange?! It's so nice to have Azure help me out with Vince and Zeke.

It's also nice to have like-minded mothers as friends who know and understand the value of some mommy alone time, instead of being judged for that. (One of the things that led to my depression that I am still recovering from.)

So, anyways I know I will get more me time in a different stage of life, but that doesn't mean I have to forgo it all now for a later date. If mommy has some time to herself, then everyone is happy :)

I originally saw this chair last week at Home Goods for $250. That was just a bit too pricey for our budget. I settled for another chair that I liked but, wasn't crazy about the color like this one.  Then, I went back to Home Goods Thurs night and it was on clearance for $175! The first thought that came to my mind was, "The Lord loves me!" This is my favorite color, yet we have very little of this color in our living room. I'm grateful that the Lord cares about the little details in our life. Just looking at this chair makes me happy.

And, I was reminded that my desire to create a comfortable, cozy home where the spirit can dwell and is inviting to others is something that He cares very much about.

I'll post again when we're all done with this room!

Zekiel's Birth Story

One of the reason it's taken me so long to write this is that over the course of this pregnancy (even before we conceived actually) I've had a real paradigm shift on "natural" birth. I have a drafted post entitled "My evolving opinion on birth" which I, of course, never posted. Maybe one day I will.

I also had to sift through my feelings about this birth before I could post about it. With Azure and Vince's births I felt that maybe I had planned too much, so this time around I went the other extreme and didn't plan enough! I had all my preparations done on Vince's due date and then had to wait around 9 more days with nothing really to do and it drove me absolutely crazy. I wanted to have things to keep me busy this time around if I were to go that late again. Chelsea asked me a couple days before the birth if I had everything ready. I told her no and explained the aforementioned reasons. She said, "But, what if you go into labor tonight and don't have everything ready, won't that stress you out?" I told her I would be more stressed out if I had everything ready and was just sitting around waiting. Well, now that I've experienced both situations I can say that both circumstances stressed me out equally, I think.

On Christmas Eve I woke up feeling some slight contractions- nothing to become excited about though. After a couple hours I felt really tired even though I had just woken up a few hrs prior. I decided to take a nap and thought, "Maybe my body knows I will need this sleep for later on." After I woke up from my nap my heartburn flared up like clockwork. I had run out of zantac the night before and was hoping that it was going to be the last pill I had to take. Nope.

Originally I had thought to drive to CVS to pick up more but, then decided to walk. Walking, of course, could induce productive contractions. I briskly walked there and curb walked on the way back. I'm sure I was quite the sight doing these "exercises" with my huge, overdue belly.

The walk was invigorating and I became determined to "get things going." I busted out the breast pump and pumped for about 5 mins on each breast. It was pumping that induced labor with Vince. Then I did some semi-intense pelvic rocking and lo and behold! Bloody show! It was about 2pm.

I was very hopeful about this sign and felt that I would probably have him by the next day. Though, I remembered that I had some bloody show with Vince a couple days before he was actually born. A little more kept coming out every time I urinated. I did some more pelvic rocking just for good measure. I decided to call my doula, Ifetayo to give her an update before we left for the Thompson’s for a Christmas Eve party just in case I had to call her in the middle of the night in a few more hrs.

At the Thompson’s I felt a few contractions sporadic and mild. Everyone asked and I told some that I had lost my mucous plug and it should be in a couple days, hopefully tomorrow. After the Thompson’s we dropped a gift off over at the Brannen’s and I felt a few more in the car.  I started to visualize what I wanted to have happen. “I’ll get everything ready for Christmas breakfast ahead of time, put all the presents out. Go to sleep- have some mild contractions that I can sleep through. Wake up, eat, open presents, drop off the kids at Theresa’s and then hit it hard. Baby by midnight.”

We acted out Luke 2 with the kids who were not very into it. I was contracting and getting anxious about finishing everything up. Charles put on Home Alone for us to watch but, I couldn’t sit down to watch it- I was too busy in the kitchen getting the pumpkin pancake batter ready. I pulled out all the bowls I’d need for everything.


I asked Charles to get the tarp out to put down for the birth pool. I put some more things in the hospital bag.  They started coming about every 4-5 mins lasting about 10 seconds. It didn’t matter if I was up moving or sitting down- they were still coming. I really wanted to get a good night’s sleep before they picked up. I finally got in bed around midnight and prayed I could sleep through them. I told Charles to set the alarm for 7am so we could have breakfast ready for the kids before they got up. Latkes, strawberries and cream, pumpkin pancakes with caramel buttermilk syrup, and bacon.  

I listened to my Birthing Day Affirmations- the first time I had listened to any Hypnobabies my entire pregnancy. I felt relaxed listening to it and when a contraction came I would shake my body to move through it. I felt like maybe I was disturbing Charles so I tried just being still while one came and it was uncomfortable. I think that was finally when I realized that this was it. I turned off the Hypnobabies and tried sleeping but, to no avail. I looked at the clock and it was 1am. ‘Guess I’m not sleeping tonight’, I thought to myself.

I got up and got on the computer bouncing on the birth ball. They kept coming every 4 mins and they were getting stronger. I hate starting labor at night. I feel so alone and I don’t want to wake anyone. I am a complete baby and I want someone there helping me. This is the 3^rd time now that I’ve had hard contractions during the night when everyone is sleeping. I started timing them at 1:20 and they were 3 mins apart lasting about 20-30 seconds. I hesitated to call Ifetayo but, I knew she had about a 2 hr drive to get here and I wanted her to be with me esp b/c Charles was asleep.

I called her at 1:39 and told her what was going on. She said she was on her way. I expected her to be here at 4am. I wanted to get into the birth pool. I had asked her if she thought it would be too early. She said no. So, I woke Charles and asked him to fill the birth pool up for me. I felt bad about having had to wake them both up.

He got right to work setting it up while I made more breakfast preparations. I figured maybe we could wake the kids early at like 7am to eat and hurry and open presents. 9am wouldn’t be too early to have them go to Theresa’s. I got into the pool around 2:30 and it was semi relaxing as I draped my body over the side and just rocked through them. But, I started to get cold b/c the space heater wasn’t working. I got really concerned about that subconsciously. I didn’t want the heater burning up the kids upstairs and setting it to 70 just wasn’t warm enough for downstairs.

I tried just sitting against the side but, that hurt my back. I would randomly feel them in my back and some not. I couldn’t tell what position he was in and I couldn’t find a position that consistently felt good. Pelvic rocking only worked part of the time. I started shaking b/c I was cold. Ifetayo got here around 3:30am and I stayed in the water for about an hr more. I was getting so tired. 

I decided to get out of the water b/c I was cold and I wanted to sleep. I hoped that if I laid down on the couch with my body pillow that maybe Ifetayo could push against my back so I could sleep just a little. I remember Charles telling her that he was going to go lay down before the kids got up. I wondered if we would make it that long. It was about 4:30am. I laid there for about 30 mins and I would tell her when my contractions started and ended so she could time them. Still about 3 mins apart. I actually did fall asleep for a little bit. Maybe 10 mins all in all. Then it just got too uncomfortable and I had to get up. I remember feeling a little helpless and panicked even with her there b/c nothing was giving me comfort. Some of what she did helped, some didn’t and I was getting frustrated. I should add that we were listening to Hypnobabies during this time.

She said they were coming about every 2 mins now and that we should start thinking about going to the hospital. I remember feeling relief when she said that b/c I wanted an epidural. I think that is when I made up my mind that I really wanted one when she said that. It was getting too hard to handle and even with a doula I wasn’t feeling that much relief. I went upstairs to get my phone so I could text Theresa and let her know we were coming soon. I had a couple contractions going up the stairs and tried to keep climbing through them to see if it helped if I moved. Not really. I had to pee again and went to our bathroom. I had the idea to sit on the toilet backwards through one and it really helped. I stayed there through a few and thought maybe I could go a little while longer like that.

I was still in my bathing suit and still cold. I had just gotten into warm clothes when I felt a trickle coming down my legs. I went to the bathroom again and saw the brown mucous plug along with more bloody show. It was about 5:45am. I came back downstairs to find Ifetayo asleep. I told her that my water had just broken. She said the contractions would start to get a little more intense now. I didn’t like the idea of that at all and wanted to get to the hospital for the epidural quick.

I went back upstairs (curse those stairs!) and told Charles that my water broke and we needed to get the kids up and take them to Theresa’s. I sat backwards on the toilet again through a couple more contractions and had Charles give me a blessing. 

I texted Theresa at 6 and told her we’d be there in about an hr. I hoped 7 wouldn’t be too early. I passed by Azure’s door after Charlie had woken her. She said, “Merry Christmas Daddy,” in the cutest ‘I just woke up voice’. That was one of my favorite things. Vince came down the stairs and saw his bike. “This is for me?” he asked so excited. “Yes, it’s your Christmas present.” I was kinda sad we wouldn’t have time to open up gifts but, the contractions were just too intense to stay any longer. There’s no way it would have been an enjoyable experience for anyone.

Ifetayo followed us to the hospital in her car. Her and Charles both helped me get registered through the ER. I was annoyed that they asked me questions and expected me to answer during contractions.  It only got worse as they wouldn’t allow Ifetayo to come with me into triage. Charles had left to go drop off the kids. I was starting to have back labor even more intensely and they wanted me to change into a hospital gown. I knew I didn’t want it on but, my pants were wet from amniotic fluid. Had someone been w/ me, I would have just put on my birthing robe that I wore w/ the other 2. But, I complied not having any advocate.

This was the point where I lost all concentration if I had any at all. I got onto the exam table on all 4s and pelvic rocked to try and relieve my back pain. My behind was hanging out of that stupid gown and the nurse walked in and made some sort of surprised sound and maybe said, “Oh!” when she saw me. That made me feel really bad and vulnerable, like I was an animal and a spectacle to see. She upset me. Again she asked too many questions while I was having contractions and I asked if my doula could please come in and answer these questions. She said as soon as she got me checked in she could. Ugh!

I found out later that it’s a hospital policy that no one can come in with you to triage. I plan to write a complaint about that policy. I didn’t have this experience w/ Vince b/c Dr. Morgan herself admitted me since it was during office hours. The only good part was that she told me I was dilated to a 4. I have never been that dilated w/o pitocin before AND I had been in labor for only about 6.5 hrs. It had taken me much longer to dilate to a 4 in my 2 previous labors.

Charles came back and they put me into a room. My memory is blurry here. I was just not feeling calm and collected. I was in pain and I started to cry with the next contraction. “I’m going to need an epidural,” I told Charles. His face was caring and he said, “That’s ok.” So, I asked for one. I had to endure a couple more contractions until the anesthesiologist came in. “What is taking so long?” I asked Charles. “Will you make sure that they’re coming?” I was so desperate for relief. I was feeling it in my back and that just really throws me off. He reassured me that she had been called and was on her way.

She finally came and just like my epidural with Vince, it only worked on the right side. It must be something about my body. But, even though I could still feel the contractions on my left side, they were more manageable and “took the edge off”. I can’t imagine how it would feel to have one that actually works on both sides!

The next few hours I dozed between sleeping and trying to get into optimal positions to relieve the back labor and get Zeke LOA. My right leg was a complete dead weight so Ifetayo and Charles helped to move me around. Ifetayo put on the hospital’s radio channel which was "soothing" music. I didn’t feel too soothed by it at times and so I switched between listening to hypnobabies.

Here’s where my lack of preparation occurred to me. I wanted to listen to Christmas music. It was Christmas morning for crying out loud! But, I never put it on the ipod. Actually I wished that we had brought the computer or at least the ipod docker so that we all could listen to inspiring music. It’s one of the things I most regret not doing about the birth. Sigh.

Around 9am (2.5 hrs after my 1^st vaginal exam) I was checked again and was at a 6.  Dr. Barrett said that my cervix was posterior. I was really worried about the position he was in (as I was my entire 3^rd trimester) so I kept trying to move around. I wish I had some of the labor on video b/c I’m sure I was quite the sight being lugged around by Charles, my doula, and the nurses with the lower half of my body completely numb. Well, not completely just that right side.

I was getting hungry so I ate some infamous hospital jello. I picked cherry, of course. Shortly after, I had really bad heartburn and asked for some meds for it. They gave me some nasty drink, alkaseltzer? I was hoping for some oral disintegrating zantac. Shortly after downing it, I felt like I was going to throw up. I announced it and Ifetayo said, “Oh, that’s a good sign.” I realized I was in transition. She grabbed one of those u- shaped hospital bowls and I threw up in it and some got on her. I remember feeling bad after that and apologizing. This was the first time I’ve thrown up during labor.

I thought I should start pushing and I asked to use the squat bar. One of the nurses saw Dr. Barrett set it up and said, “I’ve never seen anyone use that before.” Ifetayo told me in our follow up meeting that she felt I had educated that nurse and in so doing could help other women get off their backs when pushing.

Though, I was not fully dilated Dr. Barrett said I could do some practice pushing. I had written in my birth plan that I didn’t want to be coached when pushing and that I wanted to do what felt best for me. That was under the assumption that I wouldn’t have an epidural.  Though, I could still feel my contractions on the left side I didn’t know how to push. I didn’t feel like what I was doing was effective. I started to feel panicky and realized that Dr. Barrett was just respecting my birth plan so I said, “Can someone breathe with me or motivate me? I don’t know how to do this.” I was not breathing right during pushing. They told me to hold my breath to get the most out of the push but, I felt light headed. They told me to just do short pushes so I could breathe more frequently. I’ve always had problems with breath control- in singing, pilates, and apparently pushing.

I started to feel a lot of pressure on my tailbone so Dr. Barrett suggested getting on my side for a bit. I can’t remember how long I stayed in that position but, after awhile I got back on the squat bar and apparently Zeke had turned because now I was making progress. I don’t think she ever said that I was fully dilated but, I’m guessing I was because everyone got really excited and said, “You’re doing great, Deanna!” (I’m very much affected by verbal affirmation.) After only a few pushes they said they could see his head! Dr. Barrett was somewhat frantic and told the L&D nurse to call the baby nurse immediately. After another push she said, “I don’t think she’s (the baby nurse) going to make it. This baby is coming now.” That was so encouraging b/c I wanted it to be over!

I think subconsciously I thought about easing him out, so as if not to tear but, I didn’t heed that thought and pushed really hard and out he came. Well, his head anyway. His shoulder got stuck and Dr. B had to put her hand in there to get it out. Hence, another 3^rd degree tear. They were worried about it for awhile but, he was fine. He was born at 1:25pm. About 1 hour of pushing counting the practice pushes and pushing somewhat on my side. About 12.5 hrs total of labor! That sure beats 24 hrs with Azure and 48 with Vince!

At our follow up visit 2 wks ago Ifetayo told me she thought I did a wonderful job and that I was a warrior. I laughed at that while my eyes filled with tears. I wondered why she was saying that. She told me that I didn’t hesitate to make my requests known and that I recognized when I needed help and I asked for it. Her perspective made me feel better about my lack of preparation and not listening to sacred Christmas music. I wanted it all to be so spiritual.

I decided to just let it go. I will be more prepared in that arena next time. Of course, it was spiritual in and of itself but, I realized I wanted a “sacred grove experience” especially with the circumstance that this birth was foretold to me and it was Christmas day. But, I realize that was the sacredness of it. Would the Christmas music have added to it? Yes, but it wasn’t necessary. Yes, I needed an epidural, but I am still a warrior.

I think because of the size of my pelvis and shape of my hips I am just destined to always have back labor. So, instead of trying so much to avoid it, I will just expect it next time and focus on ways to deal with it.

*I'm so sad I didn't get any pics of me in the birth pool or any laboring at all. We need to get our auto-focus fixed before our next baby is born so that others can use our camera.*