Changes on the Homefront

Things have been quiet here on the blog

even though things been anything but quiet here in our life.

In September our 18 year old nephew Noah moved in with us.

Christopher turned 10.

Linnea turned 15 and I didn't get any pictures. *sigh*

We had our annual family hayride at my parents' farm.

We had our 19th wedding anniversary.

The boys played a ton of football
and we drove to a lot of games.

In October my baby Cece had her 1st birthday
and started walking.

Linnea began to participate in a choir comprised of all homeschooled students that meets once a week.

Isaiah's football team had an undefeated season record.
We made it to every game, sometimes driving some pretty big distances for this farming family.
They won their section championship and made it through to the semi-finals for our state.

Linnea is going out for basketball this year and practice will start soon.
I'm excited for her but will miss her in the house knowing she will be gone often
for practice and games.

Starting in late July/early August, I got "promoted" to work in the barn.
haha.
I do the morning milkings now because Dennis has a job in town.
During football season, I also did many of the evening milkings so that we could be on the road as soon as Dennis got home from work.
I used to milk all the time up until Andrew was born so it's not exactly new to me
but Linnea and I have had to really work hard to keep the house running
with me in the barn every morning.
It took some adjusting for everyone
and the boys and I have admittedly butted heads a few times on a few things
but all in all it's been a very positive thing all the way around.

Andrew became a teenager last week
aaaaaand I didn't get any pictures on that day either.
He is really growing up in so many ways.
Today I heard him moving cows in the pasture and thought his voice is sounding more like Dennis' now.

Abram is adding words to his vocabulary daily.
He took his time speaking, but has a lot to say now!
I'm always a little sad when they change the sweet way they say some of their words...
He used to pronounce his name "A-mum" to "A-bwum"---still super cute, but I get nostalgic about stuff like that.

THM (Trim Healthy Mama) is still going well.
I highly recommend it.

I don't know how much total weight I've lost because I've been gaining
some in preparation for Baby #12 who is due to arrive in March.
(the farthest "down" I got was 65 pounds lost)
I have felt quite well this pregnancy, the only "ailment" being fatigue.
I don't know that I can blame that entirely on the pregnancy, though,
as there are several other factors in my life that are likely contributors.

I appreciate all the "checking in" since I've been posting so rarely.
I'm still here...just a tad busier and away from the internet,
perhaps a bit more guarded with what I say.

I cannot quite wrap my brain around the fact that we are almost to double digits in November.
I love the changing of the seasons and I find things to look forward to in each one.
Right now, I am enjoying the coziness of sweaters and multiple cups of tea,
kids with cheeks rosy from the chill wind as they play outside in the dusk before supper,
the quietness of the barn in the mornings
and the brisk wind that dries the clothes so quickly on the clothesline.

And Then She Grew

While at my parents' house to celebrate Easter

my mom brought out a box of old pictures.

Y'know--from when people used to use film and have actual photographs on paper.

We came across this one of Linnea and my dad's pony Paco.

My goodness! She was so little!

And when I stepped outside that same afternoon,

there she was...but much older.

Linnea and HotShot

I turned to my dad and said,

"I know my years as a parent are fewer than yours;

I feel as if this girl was little just yesterday.

Does it feel that way for you?

Were we little just yesterday?

Does it seem like just a short time ago to you, too?"

He told me that it did feel that way to him, too.

I think for me, because I'm in the midst of diapers and feedings

and skinned knees and bad dreams

and legos and sword fights

and dollies and polly pockets,

I had never taken the time to ask either of my parents that question.

I have to say, 

I liked his answer.

The Birth of Cecelia Corinne

Goodness, what a busy last three weeks!
During the last weeks of pregnancy, I thought I would prepare several posts to have ready to publish so that I wouldn't have to think about it during the immediate postpartum days.  Ha!  That didn't happen...

I have wanted to share the story of Cece's birth so many times.  I wanted to write it well, and to do that I knew I would need two hands and the chance to have a few complete thoughts.
These have been in short supply as of late.

I guess the best way to tell a story is to just start, right?

Labor started at about 2:00 on a Friday afternoon, I had been feeling "different" since about 11:00 am that day.
I decided to send the kids to my parents' house (they both work but we have a key to their house so Linnea could just watch them down there).  They loaded into the suburban and Isaiah drove them over.
While I was getting kids out the door there were no contractions.  If I laid down, I could time contractions that were reliably 10 mins apart.
I texted Beth (my fabulous midwife) to let her know what was going on and we agreed to wait watchfully.

Dennis called in to let them know he'd be late for his shift hauling beets.  He didn't want to miss the baby's birth.  He'd be working an hour away and was worried he wouldn't get back in time if I called him later to come home once things picked up.
  Once the kids were out of the house I decided to try rest.
(I was all alone in the house.  This never happens.  Like, NEVER.  Well, I think I could list maybe two other times in the 18 years I've lived here, so never isn't exactly true.  Rarely, then.  RARELY.)
The contractions were each enough to wake me and I was needing to breathe through each one.  I texted Beth again, and my husband kept texting me asking if I had asked Beth to start this way yet.  He was worried I would wait too long and she'd miss it as she has an 80 minute drive to get to me.
He was nearby, chopping silage, and said he'd keep working on that until I told him to come in.
I gave up trying to sleep and started to pull out the birth supplies, and do some general last minute tidying of the house and my bedroom. I texted Beth at 5:25 and said "I think it'd be good if you headed this way." I took a shower, decided what I was going to wear in labor, and was disappointed that during my long, hot shower there were no contractions.  I convinced myself that I had jumped the gun again and that baby would be days away.

I laid down again, half in discouragement and half in tiredness and had a couple more contractions that were longer and harder than before. I had to really breathe through them and was very glad I had Beth on her way to me.  I wondered if perhaps I should have texted her sooner because they were getting stronger.

Dennis came inside at about 6:20 and Beth got here about 6:45, 81 minutes after my text.  (Turns out that when she says she's ready to hop in the car, she really means it.)  I was working through the contractions, though they were still spaced several minutes apart.  Christine (student midwife) and then Janelle, Beth's assistant, arrived and they set about doing their "thing" which I found fascinating, really.
I became more of an observer, impressed by their teamwork and efficiency and the busy-ness of preparing for birth. It hit me that they were here to help me birth MY baby at MY house. Even though this was my 11th delivery, it was my first birth at home.  It was familiar and new all at the same time.
Things became much more intense and I moved from bedroom to bathroom.  I remember saying, "I don't want to birth the baby in the bathroom; I'm in here because it feels good to lean on the sink" (being higher than the bed, and sturdier, it allowed me to sway through the contractions.)

Before much longer I was back in my room and leaning into the window sill next to my bed;  Dennis came in and I clasped my hands around the back of his neck as I could feel the baby making his or her way down.  Beth had stepped into the next room to get gloves on (I learned later). I heard her say, "Is she pushing?" Dennis said, "Yes."  I tried to answer, but couldn't.  I stood in front of Dennis, leaning into his chest; my water broke, her head came down, I said, "the.....head...." and Beth was there behind me, flipped up my skirt, and caught the baby. 

When I climbed up on to my bed, she handed her to me, helping with the cord since we were still attached.
I could NOT believe she was a GIRL.  I had been so certain that I was carrying a boy--and I don't know why I thought that--but I probably said four times, "I canNOT believe it's a GIRL!"

Cecelia Corinne
4 hours old
wrapped in a blue blanket because she had pooped on the pink ones

I put her skin to skin with me and I covered her with blankets.
Her cord was allowed to finish pulsing, which is so important for babies.

During the newborn exam, Beth noticed that baby had a tongue tie.  Not gonna lie, I was disappointed to learn this.  I knew it could really create a struggle for nursing.  She nursed well right away, but I didn't know what the future would hold. 

She was a little unsettled compared to my other new babies, which made for a long night.  She and I got precious little sleep and she cried a lot.  I nursed her for hours and hours.

So that was Friday night into Saturday.  My younger kids were with my parents and they brought them to meet the baby later Saturday afternoon.

Ivy was the first one in the house,
having run from Grandma's car,
up the stairs and in to the living room,
saying, "Can I hold the new baby?!?!"

Abram was delighted with the new baby.
See his face?  He was so excited to see her!

Andrew loves babies.

The kids have always been so welcoming to the new babies.

Abram loved touching her very soft hair.
He would push the other kids' hands away so that
he could touch her by himself.

A happy big brother!

I decided to keep some kids here at home Saturday night and send Elijah, Ruby, Ivy and Elizabeth home again with my parents.  Then the real fun began as one by one my kids fell to the stomach flu.   If there's a worse time for a family to get the stomach flu than immediate postpartum, I can't think of one.

Nine out of thirteen got sick but it was very short-lived and everyone was better within four days total.
I was one of those who was spared, thankfully!

Saturday and Sunday, there were times I cried.  It was very overwhelming and helpless-feeling.  Dennis was hauling beets and so was completely gone for 14 hours a day and then working here or catching a little sleep.  He's not very hands-on with the household stuff normally, but just having him around to peek in on me and listen to me has been the way it has gone with the other kids.
He called in the day Cecelia was born to say he wasn't coming for that shift, so he was able to be here with me after she was born.  They were broke down at the field so it worked out well for us that he could stay home rather than rush right out after the birth.
He did go haul on Saturday and for the rest of the 2 week season.

Through a series of phone calls on Monday, I was able to get in to a clinic on Tuesday morning to have her tongue tie clipped.

(This picture actually shows her tie fairly well.
Notice her tongue at her lower lip?  That was as far as she could move it.
For effective nursing, babies need to be able to move their tongue.)

It felt weird being out with a 3 1/2 day old baby but it needed to be done.  Nursing a tongue-tied baby is PAINFUL.  Like, white-hot pain.  I cried some more.  Once it was clipped that morning, it was noticeably better; still some pain but I think it was collateral damage from three days of hellish nursing. With the addition of some cranial sachral chiropractic work, we've got it all worked out now.

The birth was wonderful and very special to me; I'm bummed that we got sick afterward because it has meant no rest for me but that couldn't be helped.  

My only regret for homebirth is that I didn't begin birthing babies at home many babies ago.  I don't have too many opportunities left to work with Beth before I age out of the system, haha.

Birth can be very empowering
and it is so very important to listen to, trust, and respect a woman during childbirth.
I have lived through a traumatic birth experience where I was ignored and disrespected among other things.
It was one of the most damaging experiences of my life.
I wish all women, regardless of where they birth, could experience what I did with Cecelia's birth.
Birth is very precious to me and having people I trust attend me during that time was very healing.
The midwifery model of care trusts that birth is a normal life event--not a catastrophe waiting to happen--
that a woman's body is capable of birth and that women and their spouses are responsible for their decisions during pregnancy and childbirth.
Normal, physiological birth was allowed to proceed without interference or intervention
and that is what was so empowering for me.

The only things I would change if I could would be the stomach flu and the tongue-tie! haha!
I felt very safe at home; I felt cared for and like a respected part of the birth process, not just a person out of whom a baby must come.
It was very natural for both Dennis and me to labor, birth,
and meet our new baby here in our home.

Some pictures of Cece's first days...

More Weekend Reading

Since birth is what's on my mind,

these links are all on that subject.

1.  36 Obvious Reasons You Are Capable of Natural Birth

2.  "I Would Never Have a Homebirth Because..."

3.  Women Speak Out About What's Gone Wrong with the United States Birthing System

4.  Lying-in:  Rest, Recovery, and Bonding

Some Weekend Reading

1.  One of the funniest things I've ever read. 

Worst End of Summer Mom Ever:  A Sequel

2. It's time to arm yourself with information, Mamas. 

What to Reject When You're Expecting

3.  A series of posts that talk about commonly held myths or lies in obstetrics.

OB Lies

4.  We expect too much out of post-partum mothers.  "{Our} country is one of the only utterly lacking in a culture of postpartum care." 

Why are America's Post-Partum Practices So Rough On New Mothers?

5.  A new blog I've recently discovered.  Excellent post.  

You Have Too Many Children to Give Them What They Need

34 Weeks

Thirty-four weeks along with Baby #11

and I am remembering this post from when I was pregnant with Ivy.

(The only thing different is that I've not dealt with indigestion at all this time.)

An Addition

Our family is planning an addition to our home.

We will be adding two precious feet in late September.

37 Weeks

Thirty-seven weeks.
Hm.

That point in pregnancy when people usually respond with some variation of "So, wow--the baby could really come any time!"

I've heard that before.
I think it makes the next several weeks seem awfully long.  Because I know from experience that I could be pregnant for quite awhile yet!
On the other hand, it's good to be ready just in case baby does come early-ish.

So, I've washed up a little bit of pink and a little bit of blue and the handful of gender-neutral little bitty things that I've accumulated over the years of having babies.


Even though this is my tenth baby, there are still a lot of "new" things for me.

For one, planning to have the baby at home.  All the other children have been born in a hospital; eight under obstetrical care in our local hospital and #9 was with a midwife in a different hospital.  It's new to me to know that I won't have to stress about when to make the decision of when to leave for the hospital.  Everyone scares you with their stories of women having babies in the car, and how you'd better run to the hospital at the first twinge because after one or two babies, you know, they just practically fall right out.  Except they don't.
So, what I'm getting at is that I think it will take some of the pressure off of me knowing that I only need to call the midwife and she comes to me and all I'll need to do is keep laboring until the baby is in my arms.

Another "new" is a new midwife.  I had to search around a bit for recommendations because there are no midwives near where we live.  This woman is located about an hour and fifteen minutes away from me.  I'm very pleased with our relationship thus far and hopefully I get to continue my care with her for many years.

Also "new" is a different doula.  My wonderful friend Megan assisted at both Ivy's and Elizabeth's births.  What a wonderful help a doula is!!!  I had never had the help of one before and would highly recommend one for any pregnant woman.  Another friend Sarah will be with us this time.  It's new, but exciting.


I have all the birth things ready now and that was a new process for me.  My midwife recommended this site and I ordered what I needed from there.  (I didn't order a "kit" because I already had accumulated several things from the list my midwife gave me, so I just ordered the items I didn't already have.)
Going through the process of having these things on hand at home made me realize that it would have been a good idea to have an Emergency Birth Kit on hand for the other babies.  Especially since we live very rurally and the nearest hospital is 30 minutes away; also, several of the babies have been born during the time of year when weather could have been a travel factor here in MN.  For $12, really, every pregnant woman should have one of these kits.  Maybe those car-birthers wouldn't have been so freaked out if they'd had one! :)  I feel it would take a bit of the scariness out of an unassisted birth knowing you had the right tools at hand.

Another "new" is making the decisions for me and the baby based off of things that I've learned, as opposed to just "letting" the clinic/hospital staff tell me it needs to be done.  I may post about some of them in the future, I'm not sure yet, but for brevity here those decisions include the Gestational Diabetes screen, ultrasound, Group B strep culture, Vitamin K for baby, erythromycin in baby's eyes, cord clamping, etc.

One last "new" thing I'll mention:  Dennis looked at me last week and asked, "Are you sure you're gonna make it another month??"  To which I responded, "Thank you for noticing!!!"  It's the first time that he's ever commented on my pregnant-size so it struck me funny.
Some women may have felt offended, but not me--I've felt so big for so long, bigger than with the other children, that I keep wondering the same thing!

That's all the "new" news I have for now...it won't be too much longer and I can show you pictures of a little someone new!

Just the Wait

I've washed up a little bit of pink,
and a little bit of blue...
All that's left now, Baby,
is the wait to meet you.

In Moments Like These

I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who ever feels like this, right?

Like the world is spinning pretty fast and you can only catch glimpses of stillness...

Each day seems to pass so quickly, yet I'll admit that sometimes I look at the clock and think "only 10 more hours until bedtime...I can do this..."

I heard something on Focus on the Family last week where the speaker encouraged just one better reaction;

instead of deciding that one needs to conquer a habit (say, a bad temper),

commit to having one better reaction to something that normally causes one's temper to flare.

Her point was that conquering a deeply ingrained habit can seem nearly impossible, too great a task to accomplish but that by focusing on just having one better reaction we might take small steps toward improvement.

So, I made it my goal to have one better reaction.  

And, like the speaker said it would on the broadcast, it has led to another better reaction and another.

I tend to get too upset by too many things;  I raise my voice and I am very sarcastic.

I feel I've responded better in several situations lately, though certainly not all.

 It has made for a better end of last week and beginning to this one.

In the midst of a bustling household, I have a VERY hard time just sitting still--even to read a story to my kids.  

I've purposed these last couple weeks to read more stories.  The younger kids are all for that!

Today I decided to sit down with my feet up and take 15 minutes to crochet on a project on which I've been working.  Then the washing machine beeped to let me know the load was finished.

My OCD-self really wanted, nearly needed, to get up and switch out that load.

My seeking-opportunities-for-stillness-self had to speak clearly to OCD-self:  

 "just keep stitching until these 15 minutes are up...the laundry can wait so that you're able to enjoy something relaxing for just seven more minutes." 

I waited until my pre-determined time was up and then went to the laundry room.

It had been a good 15 minutes of refreshment for me.

My legs and feet have been doing so very well this pregnancy;

usually by now I deal with some swelling but not this time!

That said, I do notice if I put in too much non-stop time on my feet so I'm learning to take a few minutes to sit when I need to.

It's in those moments especially that I feel like the picture at the top of this, my rambling post;

the busy-ness and business of a homeschooling, farming household doesn't ever really stop

but I can find stillness if I really seek it out, even if it's just for a few minutes.

Incidentally, I didn't take that picture.  I found it on the camera, presumably taken by Christopher and most likely while I was seeking stillness in another room--or switching a load of laundry.

Bump

Taken several days ago when I was 28 weeks.

I'm really curious to see who is growing inside there;

my shape seems so different to both Dennis and me than with the other pregnancies:  I'm much rounder than before, not necessarily bigger, just rounder.

The big reveal is drawing ever nearer and we're oh-so-delighted to be expecting another precious gift.

The News from Here

Do you know how many posts I have saved in my drafts folder that I just haven't been able to finish?
Do you know how many things I have filed under "blog post ideas" on my computer?
Probably not--'cause that would be creepy if you did.

But say you did, you'd know that I have a lot of things I'd like to talk about, and not a lot of time to organize my thoughts and publish them into a post.

So, there are spaces between posts.
I haven't spoken much about this pregnancy.
I haven't talked much about the other kids.
Or the farm.
Or anything, really.

We'll see if I can remedy that.

Let's see.
Pregnancy:  I am 25 weeks along (or so. :) )  Baby moves around a LOT, which is always one of my favorite   aspects of pregnancy.
We no longer do ultrasounds and like the previous two babies, we didn't and won't find out the gender of this baby until we meet him or her face to face.
Boys to girls ratio at this point is 5:4.  The boys are rooting for a boy because a)boys are cool and b) boys want to "win".  {More boys than girls would mean that the boys would be "winning".  Such is the way that six-to-ten-year old boy brains work. :) }
The girls are undecided...some days they say they would like to have a new baby sister and some days they say that it would be fun to have another baby boy.
I tell them that the great thing is, the baby is what it is already and that no amount of our guessing will change who is in there!
My belly is growing quite a bit and the younger children are really noticing, triggering remembrance of when LittleBit was in there last winter.  Some have been able to feel the baby wiggle (I use the word "wiggle" instead of "kick" because one of our toddlers years ago used to resort to kicking from time to time--that kicking was naughty and I was pregnant at the time; it seemed contradictory that the baby could kick and it was cute but if the toddler kicked it was a punishable offense.  I just kept using the word wiggle for subsequent babies.)
I've been to see my midwife twice; we go back the end of February at which time I'll only have 8 weeks left until my due date. I'm excited to approach the birth of this baby in a different way as we prepare for birthing him or her here at home.  I'm a meticulous planner and Dennis is not.  I drive him NUTS if I plan too much so I'm learning to back off and not plan too far ahead out loud.
In my head, I'm planning and wondering and thinking and going over what I've read and learned in 17 years of pregnancy and childbirth.
I have had zero morning sickness which is new.  With all the other children, I have felt crummy and queasy for the first weeks and months.  I've never been violently ill, nor have I have thrown up--just felt extremely tired and nauseated.  That never happened this time and I attribute that to avoiding gluten and conquering a sugar addiction/candida problem.  I do still try to take a nap each day, but unlike the other nine times when I was drop dead tired and could not function without an hour nap, a 20 minute refresher is now sufficient for me (even with the added stress of Elizabeth being a horrible sleeper herself at night!)
In general, I feel so much better this time around, though I will admit that being pregnant at 34 is different than my early 20's. :-)  It will be interesting to me to see how the third trimester progresses; with Elizabeth, I had some swelling near the end, rendering me unable to wear shoes for several weeks.  I wore slippers instead (it was winter).  I'm predicting that since straightening out my thyroid issues by dealing with a gluten intolerance, I will feel better at full term than I have other times.  We'll see!

I'm thankful on these cold, cold days that I don't have any work to do outside like the men do here.  Dairy farmers have no choice--cows need to be milked every day and all the animals cared for especially so when the temperatures are severe, whether extreme heat or cold.  So even when I'm disgusted that the windows are all frozen shut making it impossible for me to air out rooms, or when we have to kick the front door to shake lose the ice in the jamb in order to open it--yes, even then, I'm thankful I don't have to leave home to go to a job.

Next up--an update on the kids (when I get around to it)!

The Day Before LittleBit

If you've read my blog for awhile, you might know I have a thing for "the day before" an event.
It's not the anticipation, though--it's not knowing it was going to be the day before something big or life changing.

And if you know that about me, you probably also know that I was past my "due date" with Elizabeth one year ago.  (You can read about that if you click here or over on the right hand side the link that says "Number 9".  You'll need to scroll down a bit, but it's only a few posts down.)

LittleBit's birthday is tomorrow so today marks her Day Before.

I wrote down some of the texts I sent Dennis in the days leading up to her birth.
Dec. 7     Me:  Why won't this baby be born?
               Him:  It will
               Me:  That was a good answer.

and a bit later that morning    
             I just wanna shut myself in my room and not come out all day.
(I didn't do it, though, just so you know.)

Dec. 8     Clothespins on my pinky toes don't even hurt.
(I had done some research on google about pressure points for labor; clamping clothespins on your pinky toes was one suggestion.  If I tried it now, it would hurt like the dickens; days away from delivery it felt kind of good actually.)

Dec. 10    Thanks for letting me sleep.
(That message was written at 9:21 am; the latest I have slept since I was 15.)

and later that evening
                I would like the option to stay home from church tomorrow, depending on how I feel.

Dec. 11    I'm not going to church but I have kids all ready.  Baby feels so low down.  I'm just not up to facing all the people.

Dennis and the kids went to church and I was home ALL ALONE and loving it.  I can count on one hand the times that I have been all alone in my own house--and I wouldn't use all my fingers.
Moments after they arrived at church, he sent me this:

                You just wanted ME to have all the questions, didn't you!
To which I replied
                You caught me

I chomp ice incessantly in the last months of pregnancy.  I had asked Dennis to bring me some from town on their way home from church.
Worried that he'd forget, I texted him this, hoping I'd catch him in time in case he had indeed forgotten.
     
                Did you get ice?
His reply
                Did you have a baby?

Both questions had the same answer.


I had spent those precious two hours alone listening to a sermon on the radio and trying to catch up on some Christmas gifts I was making.  I couldn't sit long at the sewing machine, though, as my feet and legs kept swelling and going numb.
I made dinner for them all once they returned and spent the rest of the day trying to keep working on those gifts.  I think I took a nap later on, and then all the regular work of laundry, supper, bath time and putting kids to bed.
I experienced a lot of insomnia the last several weeks, and to tell the truth, I sort of looked forward to being awake in the dark and quiet while everyone else was asleep.  They were the most peaceful hours of my "days".  I sat with the Christmas tree lit, read a ton of stuff online, read books, had snacks all to myself...not sleeping had it's benefits.

Because she wasn't born until the evening of the next day, her birth day is almost like a Day Before in and of itself.
That morning, as was our agreement with my midwife, since I hadn't had the baby by Monday morning that I was to call her and talk it over, I dutifully called...but I waited until afternoon.  I'm spunky and defiant that way.
She asked us to be there by 3:00 and we were pretty close to that time.  You can read that story here.

So there you have it--Elizabeth's Day(s) Before.

And tomorrow, I hope to post some pictures of my birthday girl who will be 12 months old on 12-12-12!!

Looking at It This Way

I was reading on the Jeub family's blog and came across the following, regarding his wife's 14th pregnancy:


Now don’t put us up on a super-saint pedestal. We struggle. We’re not immune to the same moments of doubts as you. There have been countless times we have wrestled with the obvious questions:
Can Wendy's health keep up with this many children?
Can Chris's income keep up with providing for them all?
How can we spread the love to so many in our household?
Can we really give the individual attention to each child?

Then, in the comments, a reader posted this:

They seem like strange questions, don't they? I would phrase those four questions this way:

"Does using your body the way it was meant to keep it in good shape?"
"Can God provide when we trust Him with our finances..and family size?"
"Can love be a thing that grows and multiplies as one walks in faith and abides in Christ?"
"Are we always able to do anything (like spend individual time with children, husbands, eat a meal) that we put our heart to, and that is a priority?"

And then I would say 'Yes to all'!


Me, too--yes to all.

Cheaper By the Dozen

We are happy to announce that our family is expecting a new baby in the spring,

bringing our number of family members to 12.

I guess we'll see if things really are cheaper by the dozen!

(My guess is they're not--but that doesn't lessen our excitement!)

Encouragement for New Moms

Recommended by my friend Theresa,

this post is just too lovely and too helpful not to share:

100 Ways to Encourage a New Mom

For me one of the most helpful things after Elizabeth was born were the meals.

I said more than once that there were three main things on my mother-plate at that time

1) caring for the children and Dennis

2) laundry and general upkeep of the house

3) cooking 

It seemed I was only able to keep up with two of the three.  

If the kids got dressed and I got a meal on the table, then there was no way the clothes got washed and there were toys and junk everywhere.

If I kept the house from being worthy of a visit from a social worker and got everyone fed, then it seemed like I hadn't even held the baby or cared for the other children.

If I made supper and the kids were in good shape, then no one had clean clothes to wear!

(Some may say to just re-wear and we did to a point.  But on a farm it's pretty imperative to keep up with the laundry!)

Not to mention that along with the major life-event that is childbirth and the sleep deprivation comes a numbing of the mind--the seeming inability to put things in order enough to assemble a meal, much less put it together and serve it even remotely on time!

Hence, it was SO HELPFUL to not have to worry about that one aspect on the days when I had help with meals.

Once when we all were under the weather and I was newly pregnant and feeling crummy from that,

a friend sent me an email and said she'd be over on a certain day, she'd be able to stay for about an hour, and for me to think of what I would like help with during that time.

This was so helpful because it

1) gave me time to think {remember the numb mind?!}

2) let me know she was coming for more than a visit {A "plain" visit is great--don't get me wrong!}

3) gave me time to prepare

I had her help me wash the kitchen floor.  

Had she just stopped by for a visit and said "what can help with?" my personality is such that I could never have asked her to wash the floor because I wouldn't have had time to sweep it first!  (I'm easily embarrassed by our messes.)

What have been your most helpful experiences?

Maybe not even with a new baby--maybe it's been during an illness or after a loss.

If you'd like to share, I'd love to hear!

Eating a Not-so-tasty Helping of Crow

During the last days of my pregnancy with Elizabeth, I was pretty outspoken with all my non-interventionist birth "theology".

• Babies come on their own if left alone.
• Too much fear is propagated when a mother is "overdue".
• Breaking water is a risky intervention.
• Cutting the cord too soon causes problems for baby by forcing them to breathe on their own immediately rather than transitioning more slowly.
• Having cut the cord too soon, babies often need oxygen because they turn blue because they weren't ready to breathe on their own.  Pure oxygen, however, basically fries their brand-new lungs, often causing respiratory issues that affect them for years to come.
• Babies transition best when right next to mom, the one-and-only they've ever known.
• I don't need a doctor to tell me how to have a healthy pregnancy.

In this post, and perhaps in others, I somewhat vilified obstetricians and made it sound like having a midwife will assure you of having a great delivery.

Guess what?
I was wrong.

And now, I must eat some crow.

If I heard it once, I bet I heard it fifteen times when having Elizabeth:  "It's hospital policy."


Even though I had a midwife, hospital policy seemed to over-ride everything.
Even though I had a midwife, there was intense pressure to deliver once I reached 40 weeks.
Even though I had a midwife, I had a drug-free induction by sweeping the membranes.
Even though I had a midwife, an amniotomy was done to help Elizabeth come sooner.
Even though I had a midwife, she did a few routine things that are typically associated with an obstetrician, like cutting the cord immediately.  To be fair, that maybe had something to do with the hostile nurses that were there.  I don't know.  Also, applying traction on the cord while waiting for the placenta to be delivered is something that surprised (shocked?) both me and my doula Megan.
Even though I delivered with a midwife, my baby was kept away from me and given oxygen to help her breathe after her cord was, in my opinion, cut too soon.

When this all became clear to me, I likened it to my feelings about home education.  One might think that because I don't use the public school for our children's educations, that I don't like teachers.  Far be it!  There are many caring, committed, concerned and even Christian men and women who are public school teachers.  I don't have anything "against" them--it's the system I have a problem with.

As far as the midwife vs. obstetrician goes, I know that there are many ob's who would gladly listen to the wishes of the parents and would be happy to help babies be born with no "routine" intervention.
However, because of hospital policy, aka "the system", they know they must be more concerned with CYA* medical practices.
*CYA=Cover Your uhhhh, rear end


It becomes so much more about the liability and litigation.
It's disgusting.

And so, I apologize.
I'm sorry if I made it sound like midwives are the best and obstetricians are the worst.

Even though there are many ob's who believe pregnancy, labor and birth are just catastrophes waiting to happen, I believe that there are many ob's who are even less-interventionist than some midwives (referred to with tongue-in-cheek as "med-wives").

In the end, what it really comes down to is finding a care provider that you trust.
And I have--I've trusted the doctors that I've gone to with my first 8 pregnancies.
I trusted my midwife.

The hospital?
Notsomuch.

It leaves women with very few options.
That is so disappointing to me because if you're only choice is to deliver in a hospital, hospital policy will determine much of what happens unless you have done some extensive homework and are prepared to "sign-off" on what you don't want done to you or your child.

Many things are presented as "law" or "required" that just plain aren't--are not law and are not required.  Strongly recommended, perhaps, but not required.

Regarding Elizabeth's birth specifically, it's not so much about me not getting what I wanted, but about getting so much of what I didn't want.

All of that wasn't because I had a midwife and not an ob--it was very much about where the baby was born.  Hospital policy...


I don't know if this makes any sense to any of you, but I just needed to get that off my chest.
edited to add:
Ironically, I came across this post tonight.

Preparing for a Natural Hospital Birth 

Pretty much my thoughts exactly.

Elizabeth's Birth Story Part 3

If you haven't already, you may (or may not) want to read Part 1 and Part 2 before you begin this third installment of Elizabeth's birth story. :-) 


Labor and delivery with Elizabeth is really the most un-eventful part of her arrival.  Had that been the end of the story, so to speak, I think my whole outlook would have been quite different.  I think I would have had much more of a "ahhhhh, she's finally here!" satisfaction that perhaps would have helped to dissipate some of the disappointment about having to deliver in a hospital rather than at home.

However, once she was out, it got worse.

Even though I had asked to delay cutting her cord until it had stopped pulsing, it was cut right away.  I'm not sure how or why that happened, if my MW just got caught up in the moment or what.  But before I could even say anything, it was done.
Elizabeth quickly turned very dusky.  She was on me and the nurse, my MW, and I were all rubbing on her to pink her up but it became obvious that she needed some help over at the warmer from some oxygen.

I believe that had she not been forced to breathe on her own so quickly (letting the umbilical cord do it's job awhile longer), she would not have had the trouble transitioning that she did.  She would then have been able to be close to me and make the switch from "inside" to "outside" more comfortably.
Of course, I could be wrong.  What do I know--I'm just the mom.

She was then moved quickly over the warmer and to receive some oxygen.

Here's where the "fun" began.

The pediatrician on-call was quickly summoned to the room to check on her.  I've been told that he is very pathology-minded.  What I mean by that is that he is more of the mindset that if it could possibly go wrong, we need to rule out every possibility.  Tests, panic, scare-tactics, more tests, more grave concern.
She was a bit shaky--many post-date babies are.
Many can quickly regulate their blood sugar simply being put to the breast as quickly as possible.  I have experienced this with a couple of my other children.  The nurse and doctor that I had at that time explained it to me and baby was feeding at less than five minutes old.
At this new hospital I was at, they wouldn't let me feed her.  They wanted to run some tests on her first.  I asked for her and was completely ignored.  Had it been just me there, I would have convinced myself that they surely just had not heard me.  When I asked again to just hold her, I got the same response.  The two nurses over near the warmer wouldn't even turn around.  Complete stonewall.  I looked at Dennis and at Megan incredulously--they looked at me the same way. (My MW had to leave to get home to her kids right after E was born because her sitter had to go home.)  Then I knew that there was no way those nurses had not heard me, they were ignoring me--and I think I know why.

As soon as Elizabeth had been whisked to the warmer, the barrage of questions began.
"What is your GBS status?"
I answered that I had not had that test.
She gaped at me and said, "You didn't have the test."
I said no; she stared at me still and then said flatly, "Okay."

This heightened their concern to a new level (what GBS has to do with blood sugar, I'm not sure.)
"Did she have a fever during delivery?  What was her temp?  Does anyone know mom's temp?  Anyone?"
The questions were flying fast and furious.
I responded from across the room that my temperature had been 96.8.  This settled them down a bit.

They asked what the results of my glucose screen had been; I told them I had not done that, either.
No 20 week ultrasound, either.

As far as they were concerned, I was batting ZERO.
I was scoring no points with them at all!  They seemed to have convinced themselves that I was an irresponsible mother for not having tested for everything imaginable.

(disclaimer:  if you do those tests, obviously that's quite up to you.  I choose not to do much of that, and that is quite up to me.  I promise I do not make decisions thoughtlessly.)

Back to asking for my baby...Dennis then said, in his big Dad's voice, "She'd really like to hold the baby." The nurse finally turned in a I-guess-we-can't-keep-acting-like-we-don't-here-them sort of way and said that I could hold her, but not feed her until lab came up.
The nurse that was near me was, at this same time, making her way over to Elizabeth, saying "I think we'll let Baby come to Mommy now..." and it was obvious that she was lower on the totem-pole than the other two ladies, because it was said in an asking permission sort of way.
It's hard to type out all the nuances of the whole situation--I hope this is making a modicum of sense.
I could tell she felt bad because I was sitting there crying, so disappointed, shaking my head and whispering, "I didn't want all this...I didn't want all this..." to Dennis and Megan, and to myself, too, I guess.

Elizabeth had just been laying there in the warmer--the nurses had stopped with oxygen for several minutes and she was just laying there crying.  Had they still been "working on her" I wouldn't have intervened, but she was just laying there, all alone.  It was, quite obviously, the farthest she and I had been away from one another in her whole life.  I wanted her near, and she wanted to be near me.  She quieted as soon as she was in my arms.
She rooted around, obviously hungry, and I still don't know why I didn't say to heck with you, Mean Nurse Lady and just feed my baby.  It's the non-confrontational part of my personality, I guess.
But I didn't, I just held her close and tried to put a smile on my face.  And I did--put a smile on my face.
See?

We waited until the lab lady came, who looked amazingly like Estelle Getty who played Sophia on The Golden Girls.
She needed to do a heel-stick to check E's glucose levels.  It was brought up that we had to wait for her to come before I could feed the baby and she said, "What?  We never do a glucose test without a first feeding on board."
Nice.

She then assumed, taking in my youthful appearance (HA!!!), that this was my first baby.  I said, "No, she's my ninth."
This stopped her in her tracks.
She looked up at us over her Estelle Getty glasses and said, "You're not trying to keep up with that Duggar family, are you?" (except she pronounced it Doo-gar.)
Dennis said, "What if we are?"
(We're not--it's not a competitive sport, you know.)

She just laughed and finished her work.

She left and I was finally able to just feed and snuggle my new baby.

Megan, Dennis and I then re-hashed everything that had just taken place.
I needed to sort it all out in my mind, 1) because it had gone fast  2) so much happened that I hadn't wanted  and 3) it was a lot to take in.

Megan went home and I took a quick bath and then we were moved over to a postpartum room.  Elizabeth just stayed close to me all through the night until very early in the morning, I did let them take her to the nursery for a thorough bath and such and I slept while she was gone for a bit.

In the morning, Jen (my midwife) stopped by before going over to her clinic.  We were able to talk about what had happened the night before.
She said, "Remember when you first came to see me how I said this was a very midwife and mother friendly hospital?  Yeah, well, of ALL the nurses you could have gotten, you ended up with the two who are the most hostile to midwifery.  You could have had 12 other ones and had no problem!  When I walked into your room last night, I was like, 'ooooooooooohhhhh no.' "

I don't know what we will do if the Lord grants a next time, because she told us that morning she was moving away.  I don't know if we'll "follow" her to her new location or not.  There is talk of a birthing center coming to our area; maybe that will be an option for us.
I won't be going back to the hospital where Elizabeth was born.

We left the hospital that afternoon amid much surprise that we were leaving "so early"--less than 24 hours after birth.  She was born just after eight the night before, and we started the process of leaving at about 2:00 the next afternoon.  Of course, that process takes quite awhile so it was more like 4 before we were out the door.
I felt good and we had so much at home that needed us, too, so it was a good choice.

My postpartum issues that I have struggled with in past pregnancies have been much better.  I credit taking B vitamins for this and am so thankful to another mommy friend who suggested that to me.

Even though Elizabeth was COMPLETELY turned around for a good three weeks, this past week she has slept much better at night which has been wonderful.
She turned one month old yesterday.
I say this every time, but it seems as if she was just born yesterday and yet has been with us forever.

I have another post coming up in which I will explain how I will have to eat some of my own outspoken words.  That's going to be a fun one for me to write...or not.  But I will write it!

Elizabeth's Birth Story Part 2

As I was saying in Part 1, I had decided that I'd better get to work.

I had been so excited at the option of a water birth, I had stayed up late into the nights preceding her birth reading about birthing in water, and yet somehow had never expressed this to Dennis, Megan, or Jen.
Oops.
By the time I asked about possibly getting into the tub there, Jen (the midwife) felt that the baby would be here before the tub filled.
Instead of getting excited about the proximity of meeting my child, I was disappointed again!  It seemed to be a recurring theme...
I had been in lighter spirits for a time during my labor with her...like when the nurses cleared the room and left us alone, Dennis bumped into the sterile table, knocking over the contents.  I told him it reminded me of something Don Knots would have done.
Most of the contractions I had I handled by "hanging" from Dennis' neck and swaying from side to side.  As he had a migraine, he said the pressure of my hands gripping the back of his neck actually felt good for him.  It was a win-win.
I also found that sitting on the birth ball was very helpful--I had done this with both Ruby and Ivy, too.

After some minutes, it was suggested that I try using the birth stool, which I had never done.  I thought I could give it a try, and did, but did not like it.  I wonder if perhaps they are not the best for plus-size women?  It's just my theory.  I did labor for a time upon it, but right before the baby was born, Jen could see I was not impressed using it and asked if I would prefer to birth the baby in the bed.  As I'd delivered all the others that way, I said yes, and that's what we did.

It only took a couple pushes and she was here!

I had completely convinced myself that the baby was a boy so that's pretty much what I said over and over again:  I thought it was going to be a boy...

We had seen the midwife at 3pm, swept membranes at 4, labor began mildly at 6:15.  At 7:45, Jen checked and I was at 9cm with no consistent contraction pattern. She said the only thing holding this baby back was a big bag of water.  After some discussion, I agreed for her to break the water. Things moved quickly then and she was born at 8:16 pm.  Not a bad schedule.  (The overdue part wasn't a fun part of the schedule, but the quickness of labor was a plus!)

There is some more to the story I'd like to write about, so I guess there will be a part 3.

And if you're thinking, that took her a whole week to write that?!?! , the answer is:
Yes.
Yes it did.
My mind has been on a bit of a grammatical sabbatical lately.
(Ha, ha!  I crack me up.)

Elizabeth's Birth Story Part 1

This post is a tough one for me to write.

I was hoping to have some great experience to talk about, but I don't really.
(Many of the following details will be of interest to few people but myself,
but I write them here to be a sort of record for me and for Elizabeth, too.)

To start with, I was a bit overdue.
Even though I told myself (and others) over and over again that I wasn't too concerned at being overdue, the truth is, all the "what-ifs" were starting to niggle in the back of my mind .
These "what-ifs" plague me all throughout each pregnancy,
but seemed to intensify the last several weeks this time.
It was hard to stay focused on just preparing to have my baby when I was reminded at every turn just how overdue I was and all the risks, etc.

I was worried, and yet I wasn't.
Makes sense, right?

And so...
I called my midwife per our agreement when Monday arrived and my baby remained INside.
I had had a non-stress test the Monday before and that is what was recommended for this day as well.
When I called my midwife she said it was funny that I was calling because she had just gotten off the phone with the hospital who had called her wondering what the scoop was on me--her "42 week-er" who had not delivered at their hospital yet.

Jen (my MW) said to come down anytime between 1 and 3.
I was agitated and distracted and I was irritated with my husband (don't even remember why) that day.
I waited for him to finish trying to fix the skid loader and then we set off on the 45 minute drive to the clinic.
I did bring along the camera and my bag, "just in case" we stayed.
Afterward, in talking with a friend whose baby was 2 weeks overdue, she recalled how she had pretty much convinced herself that her baby was never really going to be born--that she would just stay pregnant forever.  It put words to just how I'd been feeling!  That was my thought process that day--I knew we were going to an appointment, that there was a (seemingly remote) possibility that the baby could be born, but it was really more likely that I'd just be pregnant forever.  It was as if I couldn't entertain the thought that I'd be having a baby that day because it would get my hopes up again and I didn't have the emotional stamina to be let down again.

We checked in at the desk after a conversation-less drive.
(I was a really charming lady that day--delightful, in fact.)
While seated in the waiting room, I said to Dennis,
"I am NOT stepping on that scale."
Moments later, the unsuspecting nurse called us back.
She stopped expectantly at the scale, waiting for me to step up on it.
I said, "I don't want to."
She nervously giggled and...waited.
Dennis said, "She just told me in the waiting room that she didn't want to be weighed today."
She nervously giggled again and...waited.

Though I didn't say it out loud (that I know of) my body language probably conveyed a great big
"FINE."
I stepped on the horrible scale and watched her ratchet the number increasingly to the right.
And then,
I burst out crying.
I shoved my big feet back into my slippers (I hadn't fit into my shoes for many weeks)
and tried to find my way to the exam room through the tears that were blurring my eyes and running down my cheeks;
the same tears that were bewildering the poor nurse
and leaving my husband feeling quite helpless to know what to do with me.

Once in the room, I sat there, looking at my feet and wiping at my tears, while the nurse took my blood pressure and ventured her first words since my emotional otburst:
"You're just ready to done...aren't you."

*snif*
"Yes."

Hooked to the monitor and waiting for Jen to come in,
I felt like such a patient.
I just wanted to be a pregnant mama.
It was very difficult for me to come to terms with the point at which I had arrived--
needing some extra monitoring...intervention.
I felt so defeated.

When Jen came in, we discussed some options.
With more crying from me, we eventually decided to do a sweep of the membranes.
She then advised us not to leave town, to walk around the mall for a bit because she felt things could happen fairly quickly.
This was at about 4:00; she said to wait around and call her at about 6:00 to touch base and see how things were going.

I did have some things I needed at the fabric store in the mall, so we went there.
Dennis was SO EXCITED to trail along with me!
Except he wasn't.
He had a migraine and was bored out of his mind.
I told him to just go wait in the car and I would call him if I needed him.

I wandered around the store, called my mom to give her an update,
she offered to go get the younger kids and take them to their house for the night.
I was getting discouraged that contractions hadn't really started up,
and so I checked out at the register and began to walk to the car.
Dennis had decided to wait inside the mall,
and as I walked to him and we began to walk to the car
I had some strong contractions.

He was on the phone and I was irritated about that so I didn't really say anything to him.
(Just being honest...)
We had already decided to have supper at Subway
so we made our way over there.
I waited and waited--STARVING away to practically nothing--
(a lot had changed since my weigh-in?)
while he finished his conversation in the Subway parking lot before going in to get our sandwiches.
I decided to call my friend and doula, Megan,
and talk things over with her.
While we spoke, I had some more contractions and then decided to call Jen.

Dennis came back with the sandwiches before I had a chance to call her
so we ate in relative silence, me not drinking the pop he had not bought me, but I wasn't bitter.
I wish I would have been in a better mood, but I was still having a hard time coming to terms with having to have a hospital birth instead of the homebirth I had my mind and heart so set upon.

We made our way over to the hospital parking lot while I spoke to Jen on the phone.
Knowing it can take quite some time to get checked in to the hospital,
even when you've sent them all the pre-registration papers,
we went in.

This was a new hospital for us, so I didn't even know exactly where we were supposed to go.
Getting checked in, answering all the questions,
ie, do you wear dentures, do you have tuberculosis, do you feel safe, are you wearing jewelry, are you having a contraction now?  How about now?  Now?
and all I could think was
"I didn't want this.  I don't want to be here."
People I didn't know, a strange place...so much of what I didn't want.

Finally, knowing that train of thought was getting me nowhere,
I decided that birthing this baby was what I had to do.

This story is getting rather long, though, so I'll divide it into more than one post.
And in case I forget, do remind me to tell you about Elizabeth's "day before."