Monday, June 30, 2014

A Love Letter to my Children

A few weeks ago, a friend asked me to write a post for his blog, www.johnnywholeheart.com.
I thought I'd share with you what I wrote: A Love Letter to my Children.


My two favorite memories in life were the moments I first held you in my arms. It’s hard to describe that moment to someone who’s never experienced it, because it’s unlike anything else in life.  But I once heard that moment described as a tsunami of love overtaking the mother and I would have to agree. I was overwhelmed with love and caring thoughts toward you.
 

 

Evelyn, you looked just like your daddy.  That was literally the second thought I had after I met you. My first thought was, “Wow! That’s a big baby!” I couldn’t stop stroking your soft skin and kissing your sweet face. I repeated over and over, “My baby, my sweet baby” in the delivery room. You were the most welcome fruit from my long labor.

Those first days at home were magical. I would rock you in that green stuffed rocker and sing “I see the moon,” the same song my Papa used to sing to me. I would cry as I held you, overwhelmed with this new love that you brought when you entered our lives.  We spent our evenings just watching you breathe in and out. In and out.  I couldn’t believe how beautiful you were. It wasn’t long before your lively personality began to shine through. You are joy in its purest form.

Charlie, my sweet son. You are truly your mother’s delight. When you let out your first cry and breathed your first breath of air, my heart exhaled, so relieved and grateful for my strong little man. The first thing we noticed about you were your hands… they were quite big for a newborn. I could tell from the very beginning that you had a calm and gentle disposition, a lot like your daddy’s. It wasn’t but a few hours after you were born that the two of you were taking a nap together on the couch.
 
 

I love watching you grow. Your eyes are always on the move, looking for something to catch your attention. You notice people and absolutely love your sister. You’re blind to her jealousy. And you always, always have a smile on your face. I call you my cheerful Charlie. You’ve been the best addition to our little family, filling the void we’ve felt without you.

Your dad and I talk about you two all of the time. We still can’t believe that you belong to us. One of our favorite things is to watch you two smile at each other and interact with one another. One day we’ll be gone, but you two will always have each other.

Being your mom is such an honor. It’s consumed my whole life and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Making sacrifices for you, although it’s not always easy, it’s completely natural. I would rather go without something than for you to have an unmet need.
 
 

I heard in college that love is the accurate estimate and adequate supply of another’s needs. I think that definition sums up motherhood. I want so desperately to make sure all of your needs are met and that I am preparing you well for the future. I want to give you the best. You may not always be happy with my decisions and the way that they affect you, but please trust my heart. My heart is for you.

Now, I’m not perfect, as you already know. I’m a broken person, trying to hold all of my pieces together. And sadly, my brokenness will affect you. I won’t be able to meet every need you have, even if sometimes it’s in my power to do so and there will be times that my choices hurt you. I’m sorry. And I hope that I will always have the courage to admit when I am wrong and that you will always have the grace to forgive. I want you to see that it’s okay to make mistakes and that hurts or offenses do not have to be the end of a relationship. Forgiveness gives us the chance to start again.



One of my biggest fears is losing you. If I let myself, I could let that fear consume me and control the way I raise you. But I struggle to remind myself that you are a gift to me, that you really belong to God. You are His. I pray that His purposes for your life come to be. He is our Father, and his heart toward us is good; we are wise to trust Him.

And I pray that you do grow to trust Him. Without Jesus, I wouldn’t be able to love you the way I do. His grace is what holds our family together; it’s what holds our world together. If you really want to succeed in life, to know and live your purpose, you have to start with Christ. He is the one who created you and He desperately wants you to live a full life, the one that only He can give. It’s hard for me to believe this, but His love for you is stronger than mine.

Lastly, my dear ones, I believe in you. I am convinced that you two have what it takes to move mountains. You are so intelligent and capable. Be who you are and do what only you can do.

Remember to be kind to other people. Don’t use others to get what you want, but treat them as you’d want to be treated. If you have the opportunity to be generous, don’t let it pass you by. Make every effort to live in peace.

As always, I pray blessings on you your whole life.

I am proud of you and I love you,

Your Mama

 


 


Tuesday, March 11, 2014

My Birth Story

Hi friends. I don’t know if I should ignore the fact that it’s been eight months since I last blogged and just write this post as if no time has lapsed or if I should acknowledge it and say something like, “Oh my, has it been eight months already?!” Either way… It’s been a while! J

I thought I would post some pictures and share my birth story with Charlie since some of you have expressed interest and I haven’t been able to catch up with you yet. 

I like to think of my birth experience as “beautifully uneventful.” Meaning, I had a contraction, and then another one and then ouch! another one, until I pushed a little baby boy out and into the world.  I suppose the interesting part is that it was all done at home.

Our decision to have a home birth was surprisingly an easy one to make. Not to say that I didn’t ever doubt our decision or wonder if we were doing the right thing, which if you know me, you’d expect that. But when it was time to schedule that first appointment, I knew I wanted to do things differently than I did with my first pregnancy.

So we interviewed a midwife and I tried out a different doctor. Then we spent a lot of time talking and praying about it and ultimately decided that a home birth had a better chance of giving us the experience we wanted. Not just during the labor and delivery, but through my entire pregnancy.

I'd also like to say that I am not anti-hospitals or anti-drugs or anything silly like that. I just wanted to try a different approach this time around.

My main concern (and something I feel very passionately about) is that women are empowered and supported to have the birth experience that they want and that the mother’s wishes are respected, whether she delivers at home or in the hospital.  

Charlie was born nine days after his due date which was so wearisome. I thought for sure he’d come early or on his due date since he was my second and I’d done this before. Wrong!

I had a chiropractic adjustment on December 27th at noon. I really think that helped launch me into labor. The next day was a Saturday and I woke up with contractions. I had them all that day, but they were about 15 minutes apart. We went for a walk, I climbed our stairs two-by-two, and spent a lot of time on my yoga ball, the contractions were consistent, but just nothing to write home call the midwife about.

Around dinner time, both Phil and I thought that this was the beginning of the end. We made arrangements for Evie to be picked up around 6:30 that evening by one of our good friends. This was the first time Evie stayed overnight without me. That was really hard letting her go. Tears were shed. Evie was fine, of course. Ready for an adventure! J

Once Evie left, something in me switched and I felt like it was business time… time to birth a baby! My midwife arrived around 8ish. She checked me and I was only at a two. Her advice was that while the sun is down we don’t do anything to start/activate labor. So she said we should go to bed around 10:00 pm, and if I awoke in a few hours in active labor, then we’d have a baby. But if I slept through the night, I’d be rested and we’d start trying to restart labor in the morning. I think we made it into bed around 11:00. My midwife, Debbie, stayed in our guest room. My contractions were getting closer together and stronger and they didn’t let up once we got into bed, they intensified.

Poor Phil kept dozing off, and I would occasionally kick him and say “put pressure on my back” or “wake up… this hurts!” J I labored in bed like that for a few hours before I got up and went into the bathroom to continue laboring. At that point, I had woken up Debbie with my moaning and she came downstairs. She and Phil started setting up the tub so I could labor in water. Debbie told me as long as I was dilated to a 6 or 7 then I could get in the tub and I was at a 6 ½ . When I got into the water I said “Oh! Praise God for this water!” I don’t remember saying that, but Debbie thought it was noteworthy so wrote it in my birthing records. J It felt wonderful to labor in the water. Debbie and the birthing assistant, Jessica, were diligent to keep the temperature right at 100 degrees. Debbie also checked the baby’s heartbeat frequently with a Doppler, maybe two or three times an hour.

After an hour or two in the tub, I was starting to get too hot and wanted to get out. So, I labored on my bed for a while, at which point my water broke. Don’t worry! We had a plastic covering over our mattress… no harm done! J At that point, I was ready to get back into the tub. Debbie checked me and told me that I was completely dilated and effaced and that I could start pushing whenever I got the urge.  I couldn’t believe that I had gotten there… I thought it would all be downhill from there. And I suppose it was, since I only had 45 minutes until sweet Charlie made his entrance, but boy did it hurt! As many women have testified that they had an overwhelming urge to push, I never felt that sensation. And so I started “pushing” and was just twiddling my thumbs waiting for my baby to come out. But my “pushes” were not strong enough. I asked Debbie a few times, “Do you see the head?” and sadly she didn’t. Not even close.

The funny thing about pushing is that it’s self-inflicted pain. If you don’t push, you don’t hurt. But if you don’t push, your baby is stuck inside you and that just won’t do. So, Debbie gave me some pointers on how I can be a more efficient pusher (who knew?). Poor Phil. I remember grabbing onto his shirt, clenching my fists, and grunting right into his face, trying to push this man-child out of me. Time passed and I was feeling desperate. I remember crying out, “I need to get this baby out of me!” Debbie replied, “It’s all you, Emily. Push your baby out.” And something snapped in me, and I pushed and pushed and desperately pushed that head out, which was followed by my baby boy with just one more push. It was 6:33 am on Sunday, December 29th.

I felt so much relief in that moment. It was over. And baby was healthy. And it was beautiful.

An interesting thing about midwives is that they don’t clamp the umbilical cord until it stops pulsing so the baby can still get the blood and other goodies from the placenta. So, for the first hour of Charlie’s life, anywhere he went, he was followed by a white Kitchen Aid bowl that held my placenta. It was a little awkward trying to nurse him, “Phil, can you move the bowl closer to me? I need to switch sides.”

After Phil cut the cord, baby was weighed and measured and I was stitched back up. Debbie and Jessica cleaned out the tub, sterilized everything, and really did a great job of making our house feel like it didn’t just double as a delivery room.  It was so wonderful to just hop (well, it was more like slowly and carefully climb) into my own bed in my own clothes.

One of my favorite things about working with a midwife is the type of care that you receive. Debbie came back one day after the birth, three days, one week, and then three weeks after Charlie was born. It was so nice for her to come to me. Also, the last month or so of my prenatal visits, Debbie came to my house to do them. The first day after Charlie was born, Debbie gave me the Rho-gam shot and tested Charlie for several different diseases, the same test that is administered in the hospital. Everything came back normal.  She also weighed Charlie during each visit and was able to assist me with any nursing issues I was having.

I am so grateful for this experience and the wonderful memories that were made. I think its safe to say that we would choose a home birth again in the future!

 

This is a picture of the tub that I labored in and that Charlie was born in. It was set up in our bedroom, though.
 
                                            Here's that sweet little guy, fresh out of the womb.
 
                                                          Phil cutting the cord... finally!
 
 
           Here's Debbie weighing Charlie. He weighed 9 lbs. 5 oz. and was 21 1/2 inches long.
 
                                                         Measuring his head. Fourteen inches.
 
                                                                Measuring his chest.
 
                                          Jessica, me, Charlie and Debbie pose for a group shot!
 
                                                          Our first picture as a family of four.
 
                                                              At our 6 week appointment.