There is a sign hanging outside my front door. It reads as follows: "If you came to see me, come any time. If you came to see my house, make an appointment." Now don't get me wrong, I like having a clean house, but I hate actually cleaning and de-cluttering. I mean I absolutely loathe it. One of the reasons is because I'm a tad OCD about some of the physical aspects. For instance, I hate it when water drips on me (especially if I'm wearing flip flops or barefoot) and I especially hate when my hands are wet and/or dirty and then they drip all over me, I want to just jump out of my skin. It's even worse when there's not a towel handy, it seriously makes me start to go a little psychotic. It's just not my thing. Need someone to create something artsy for you from scratch? I'm your girl. Need someone to give an impromptu speech or memorize a song and perform it? Call on me. Need something organized? Run far, far away from me.
So, besides being a little OCD (no offense to anyone who suffers from real OCD), why do I hate it so much? Mainly because I'm so bad at it. My brain just does not function in an organizational way, which has proven to be extremely frustrating throughout my life. Asking me to organize a stack of books or a bunch of files incites the type of horror in me that most people feel when they're asked to speak in front of a large group of people (How?! By color? Title? Author?? Height?? Thickness??? Gah!!!). Nevertheless, it's simply not an option to NOT clean my house, especially as a stay-at-home mom, so I've started searching for ways to help me get past the oogy-ness and embrace my inner June Cleaver. I started by thinking about what I'd rather be doing. In all honesty, I'd rather be focusing on some spiritual matter or a ministry issue and grappling with that instead....how do I incorporate that desire into cleaning? Suddenly, I had an idea. What if I could change my thinking to regard cleaning as something positive rather than negative...what if I could treat cleaning as I've treated other struggles in my life - as a spiritual discipline? As it turns out, this is not a new idea.
In Benedictine monasteries, each monk is required to perform kitchen duty on a regular basis. The reason for this is to invoke a sense of servant hood and humility in and to their fellow brothers. This strikes a chord with me since my husband's "love language" is acts of service. In other words, washing his car means way more than buying him that new Rolex. Furthermore, we have scriptures like Colossians 3:23 (among various other passages) that say things like this:
" Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters."
So, in an effort to become more like Jesus and serve my family in humility and thankfulness, I will be practicing my various household tasks as a spiritual discipline, committing time each day until it becomes a habit. I have discovered that once I get started on a task, it's not hard to finish, as long as I don't allow myself to become distracted. Yikes! That's a hard one... I also figured putting on my blog would help keep me accountable.
That being said, tell me your opinion: would you rather sing a solo in church or clean your toilet?
Monday, April 29, 2013
Saturday, April 6, 2013
3.28.13 - The day our lives changed again.
He's here! Jacob Andrew is here! He's actually 3 weeks old already, sorry, I've been so busy enjoying him (and the total sleep deprivation that comes with him) that I haven't gotten an update posted yet.
I'm still in state of shock. Pregnancy is over. Gestational diabetes is gone. All the aches and pains and waiting - all done. And what do we have to show for it? This guy:
When they say, "It's all worth it in the end", I have to completely agree. Here is his birth story, complete with Mom's thoughts. You know the verse in the Bible that says "Mary remembered these things and treasured them in her heart"? These are my treasures. Also, if you're faint of heart or easily grossed out, stop reading now.
Let me start by saying that my goal for this baby was a natural, unmedicated, relatively fast birth. I didn't start out wanting that, nor did I advertise that's what I wanted, as usually we "all natural" moms are regarded as slightly crazy. I think it's a fair assumption, we are crazy! But, for most of us, it's born from a deep desire of wanting what we feel is personally best for our children and ourselves, as well as lots of education about actual childbirth. It's rarely a medical emergency, although it can be, which is why we chose to still use a hospital and get regular prenatal care. Kevin and I used a childbirth course called Hypnobabies this time around. I researched a lot of classes, including the Bradley method, and this one seemed to fit my personality well and it involved Kevin deeply in the preparation and actual act of childbirth, which I really liked. I didn't want the movie set birth where the husband sits idly by and the wife screams how much she hates him until she gets her epidural and then everything is fine. I had an epidural with Karis and I knew from experience that not only did it not knock out all the pain (I still had back labor) but it resulted in a longer pushing phase and a long, painful recovery. I didn't know how to help Kevin help me and he felt, well, rather helpless during my birth experience with Karis. That experience scarred me so deeply that for years, I said I didn't want any more children, I was done. Even when I found out I was pregnant with Jacob, I found it hard to be excited. Nevertheless, I set out to educate myself because rather than wallow in my fears, I seek to understand them and have a plan in place to face them.
So fast forward 9 months. I had been listening to my scripts to help me learn to relax and breathe through contractions. I've listened to affirmations about how my body knows what it's doing, it was designed to give birth. I had faced many of my fears about pregnancy and childbirth. When Wanda died, it sent a few of our "plans" into a tailspin, but luckily for me, I have the greatest in-laws on the planet (no really, I do) and Kevin's sister flew into town to stay with Karis while Kevin and I were in the hospital. She arrived on Wednesday afternoon, I went into labor at 4:45 AM on Thursday morning. Apparently, Jacob was waiting on Leighann! Kevin's mom and I had discussed the idea of God's perfect timing through my pregnancy and I am so glad he had his hand over us and held off labor until the chaos died down. My contractions started out 1 minute long, about 6 minutes apart, and I could still talk and walk through them just fine, but there was no mistaking that they were the real thing. I timed them for a while, took a warm bath, drank water, all the things you're supposed to do to determine "real" labor and they stayed very consistent. About 6:30, I woke Kevin and asked if he wanted to help me time contractions. They were still regular so we went about getting things ready for the hospital, hoping we'd actually get to go and it wasn't another false alarm.
Around 9:30, they started getting closer to the 5-1-1 rule and though I still wasn't having any issues walking and talking through them, we decided to go ahead and drive to the hospital. Sure enough, as soon as we pulled into the parking lot, they spaced to 10 minutes apart! I knew that if I went in one of two things would happen: I'd be sent home or essentially tied to a bed with all the monitoring they require. I wasn't keen on either idea, so we decided to head over to a local store and walk around to see if that would get things going again. They sped back up to 5 minutes apart, 1 minute long, but again - I could walk and talk through them. Kevin suggested going back home to relax and though I was eager to get the show on the road, I knew speeding things unnecessarily wasn't a good idea and I'd be more comfortable at home, so back home we went.
Once we arrived, we updated Leighann and I went in the bedroom to listen to my script and relax. I had been in there a while and was getting hungry but knew making myself some food wasn't going to be easy, so I sent Kevin a text message asking for a sandwich. (I know, lazy, but I was still huge pregnant and in labor!). As soon as I sent that message, I had a really intense contraction that felt like it was going to break my water. As it was winding down, Kevin poked his head in the door to ask about the sandwich and noticed I was breathing pretty hard and couldn't move or answer him. When it was over, I looked at him and said "We need to go. Now." He kicked into high gear, shooing me to the car and grabbing the stuff we'd forgotten the first trip. I had another big contraction in the garage, so I immediately got down on my hands and knees and breathed through it. At this point they were definitely getting more painful, but it wasn't unbearable, just took a lot of concentration to get through it. I was still having a good 4 - 5 minutes in between contractions and they came in sets of 3 or 4, like ocean waves - one big one followed by a couple of smaller ones, etc.
We got to the hospital around 12:45, on the way I ate my sandwich and chatted with Kevin. One of the things I told him was that if I started saying I couldn't do it anymore and asking for medicine, it probably meant I was in transition and to just remind me it would be over soon and I could handle it. I also told him if he noticed my hands tensing or noticed my face or toes tensing to gently remind me to relax. We went in through the ER, like we were told, and they took us up to triage to be checked out. When they finally checked me around 1:30, I was at a 4 and 80% effaced. This was disappointing as I was sure I'd be further along than that because of how intense my contractions were getting. They checked again a few minutes later and said I was a 5 and paper thin. At this point, I was really starting to hurt and told Kevin that if I was only a 5 and this could take another 5 hours, I would be too tired to push and that I was going to ask for an epidural. I could tell by his face that he was internally debating how to respond, so I told him that I remembered what I said in the car, but I knew at this point I would physically be too tired by the time I got to transition. Looking back, I should've trusted my body and not the "numbers" because I was already in transition, my body just hadn't caught up yet. They came back in and told us that my Dr. gave the order to admit me and about that time, a contraction hit and my water broke. I told them I thought it had broken, they checked and sure enough, it had. They unhooked me from the monitors and another contraction hit and this one HURT. I flipped to my hands and knees and felt my body start pushing. "This can't be happening," I thought, "I'm only a 5..." One of the nurses asked "Are you feeling pushy?" to which I responded "Oh yes!" They started to wheel me to a room and this is when things started to get CRAZY.
The ride to the labor and delivery room took maybe 3 minutes and at this point I was praying VERY loudly for God to please please help me make it through until I could get my epidural. Kevin reminded me to relax and i said "Forget that, squeeze my hand as hard as you can!" He, being the good man he is, did just that! Nurses were running around to get things ready and in between contractions I asked one of them if I could get an epidural or anything to help the pain. She looked at me and said, "Umm, well, we'll have to see where you are..." Another contraction hit and she checked me during the contraction. Nonchalantly, she turned to someone and said "She's a 9."
Wait. It had been maybe 5 minutes since I was a 5!
"Did you just say I was a 9??!!" I asked. "Yep", she said, and at that point I knew there would be no epidural, there was no time, I was about to do this all natural and I was elated and terrified and pretty much in total disbelief all at the same time. Dr. Hyler comes waltzing in, big smile on his face, took a look at me and said, "Okay, on this next contraction, we're going to push a baby out!" I just looked at him and then asked if I could have something to brace my feet on because once the pushing sensations took over, I had no control over them without being braced against something. Apparently he told me to push against him if I needed to but I don't remember that. At this point, Kevin, poor thing, is about to pass out as he does not handle his loved ones being in pain. He sits in a chair and waves the nurses away, telling them to help me, he'll be alright. I hardly notice because with every contraction I am varying between my loud prayers, hulk growls, and shrieks of pain. I had pushed once or twice and could tell Jacob was close. The nurse kept telling me "Push through the burn, don't stop!", so I did. In the small, maybe 30 second break, I heard Kevin say, "He's right there, honey, one more push! You're doing so good!", echoing the doctor and nurses. Dr. Hyler said, "Okay, with this next one, put your chin on your chest and push as hard as you possibly can." The next one hit and I bore down with everything I had, convinced I was going to rip the handles off the bed. Jacob came sliding out all at once- head, shoulders, body, and legs - and suddenly, it was all over. I saw him in Dr. Hyler's hands and all I could say was "Oh Jacob! Oh baby! You're here! You're finally here!!!" He was born at 2:25PM, just short of 2 hours after arriving at the hospital, still at a 4. He was 6 lbs, 15oz and 19 inches long.
I remembered to ask if they would delay clamping the cord and if they would put him on my chest, to which they happily obliged. He came out so fast that they had to work to get the fluid out of his lungs, so he didn't get to stay there very long, unfortunately, but he was fine after a few minutes. Kevin thought it was great to get the picture of him below in the bassinet because the name Jacob means "Grasper"! Boy, what a grasp he had!
Overall, it was an amazing experience, albeit intense. What they say is true though, I remember many of the details, but I don't remember the pain. It has to be the endorphins, or just the way God made us, but this birth was much easier than Karis' and I had a much quicker recovery. He's only 3 weeks old and I'm already completely back to normal, including 3 lbs under my starting weight. I was lucky that I had no tears or stitches, thanks to Dr. Hyler's delivery skills.
My only disappointment was I felt that I abandoned (or was abandoned by) my Hypnobabies skills at the end, but after talking to Kevin, he felt that they had served me well. I managed to stay home until transition and get through a natural childbirth without fear and anxiety and that was a major accomplishment. One of my dear friends calls Jacob my "healing baby" and in many ways, she's right. I was forced to face many fears through this pregnancy and delivery and in the end, I came out on the other side a stronger, more confident person. I can trust my body, I can trust my Creator. I CAN do it.
We've since encountered some reflux/gas/breast feeding issues, although he rarely cries, we can tell he's in pain sometimes. Due to my own unrelenting pain that wasn't a latch issue but a circulation issue on my part (my fingers are numb as I type this) and his upset tummy, we've switched to formula. While it's disappointing, I do feel a bit relieved and I enjoy bottle feeding him much better than nursing, I'm just not cut out for it, I was always tense, stressed out, and in pain. I know they say "if it hurts, you're doing it wrong" but sometimes, the problem is out of your control. I consider myself blessed to live in the 21st century with lots of intelligent, loving formula fed babies (myself included) walking around. Honestly, I wish women would stop ganging up on each other and just realize no matter what you choose - epidural or all natural, formula or nursing, working or staying home - we're all in this together and we need each other.
Anyway, we're blessed to have two beautiful children and I already cherish the bond they have. When Karis comes near Jacob, he turns his head to get a look at her. She showers him with kisses and begs to help take care of him. I can't believe that I almost succeeded in denying our family the chance to experience this blessedness that is our Jacob.
Tonight, she asked me, "Mommy, where's Cubby?" (Our nickname for him.)
"He's sleeping, honey."
"Oh... Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"I love my Cubby."
I do too, sweetie. I do too.
I'm still in state of shock. Pregnancy is over. Gestational diabetes is gone. All the aches and pains and waiting - all done. And what do we have to show for it? This guy:
 |
| This is what we call a milk-induced coma. |
When they say, "It's all worth it in the end", I have to completely agree. Here is his birth story, complete with Mom's thoughts. You know the verse in the Bible that says "Mary remembered these things and treasured them in her heart"? These are my treasures. Also, if you're faint of heart or easily grossed out, stop reading now.
Let me start by saying that my goal for this baby was a natural, unmedicated, relatively fast birth. I didn't start out wanting that, nor did I advertise that's what I wanted, as usually we "all natural" moms are regarded as slightly crazy. I think it's a fair assumption, we are crazy! But, for most of us, it's born from a deep desire of wanting what we feel is personally best for our children and ourselves, as well as lots of education about actual childbirth. It's rarely a medical emergency, although it can be, which is why we chose to still use a hospital and get regular prenatal care. Kevin and I used a childbirth course called Hypnobabies this time around. I researched a lot of classes, including the Bradley method, and this one seemed to fit my personality well and it involved Kevin deeply in the preparation and actual act of childbirth, which I really liked. I didn't want the movie set birth where the husband sits idly by and the wife screams how much she hates him until she gets her epidural and then everything is fine. I had an epidural with Karis and I knew from experience that not only did it not knock out all the pain (I still had back labor) but it resulted in a longer pushing phase and a long, painful recovery. I didn't know how to help Kevin help me and he felt, well, rather helpless during my birth experience with Karis. That experience scarred me so deeply that for years, I said I didn't want any more children, I was done. Even when I found out I was pregnant with Jacob, I found it hard to be excited. Nevertheless, I set out to educate myself because rather than wallow in my fears, I seek to understand them and have a plan in place to face them.
So fast forward 9 months. I had been listening to my scripts to help me learn to relax and breathe through contractions. I've listened to affirmations about how my body knows what it's doing, it was designed to give birth. I had faced many of my fears about pregnancy and childbirth. When Wanda died, it sent a few of our "plans" into a tailspin, but luckily for me, I have the greatest in-laws on the planet (no really, I do) and Kevin's sister flew into town to stay with Karis while Kevin and I were in the hospital. She arrived on Wednesday afternoon, I went into labor at 4:45 AM on Thursday morning. Apparently, Jacob was waiting on Leighann! Kevin's mom and I had discussed the idea of God's perfect timing through my pregnancy and I am so glad he had his hand over us and held off labor until the chaos died down. My contractions started out 1 minute long, about 6 minutes apart, and I could still talk and walk through them just fine, but there was no mistaking that they were the real thing. I timed them for a while, took a warm bath, drank water, all the things you're supposed to do to determine "real" labor and they stayed very consistent. About 6:30, I woke Kevin and asked if he wanted to help me time contractions. They were still regular so we went about getting things ready for the hospital, hoping we'd actually get to go and it wasn't another false alarm.
Around 9:30, they started getting closer to the 5-1-1 rule and though I still wasn't having any issues walking and talking through them, we decided to go ahead and drive to the hospital. Sure enough, as soon as we pulled into the parking lot, they spaced to 10 minutes apart! I knew that if I went in one of two things would happen: I'd be sent home or essentially tied to a bed with all the monitoring they require. I wasn't keen on either idea, so we decided to head over to a local store and walk around to see if that would get things going again. They sped back up to 5 minutes apart, 1 minute long, but again - I could walk and talk through them. Kevin suggested going back home to relax and though I was eager to get the show on the road, I knew speeding things unnecessarily wasn't a good idea and I'd be more comfortable at home, so back home we went.
Once we arrived, we updated Leighann and I went in the bedroom to listen to my script and relax. I had been in there a while and was getting hungry but knew making myself some food wasn't going to be easy, so I sent Kevin a text message asking for a sandwich. (I know, lazy, but I was still huge pregnant and in labor!). As soon as I sent that message, I had a really intense contraction that felt like it was going to break my water. As it was winding down, Kevin poked his head in the door to ask about the sandwich and noticed I was breathing pretty hard and couldn't move or answer him. When it was over, I looked at him and said "We need to go. Now." He kicked into high gear, shooing me to the car and grabbing the stuff we'd forgotten the first trip. I had another big contraction in the garage, so I immediately got down on my hands and knees and breathed through it. At this point they were definitely getting more painful, but it wasn't unbearable, just took a lot of concentration to get through it. I was still having a good 4 - 5 minutes in between contractions and they came in sets of 3 or 4, like ocean waves - one big one followed by a couple of smaller ones, etc.
We got to the hospital around 12:45, on the way I ate my sandwich and chatted with Kevin. One of the things I told him was that if I started saying I couldn't do it anymore and asking for medicine, it probably meant I was in transition and to just remind me it would be over soon and I could handle it. I also told him if he noticed my hands tensing or noticed my face or toes tensing to gently remind me to relax. We went in through the ER, like we were told, and they took us up to triage to be checked out. When they finally checked me around 1:30, I was at a 4 and 80% effaced. This was disappointing as I was sure I'd be further along than that because of how intense my contractions were getting. They checked again a few minutes later and said I was a 5 and paper thin. At this point, I was really starting to hurt and told Kevin that if I was only a 5 and this could take another 5 hours, I would be too tired to push and that I was going to ask for an epidural. I could tell by his face that he was internally debating how to respond, so I told him that I remembered what I said in the car, but I knew at this point I would physically be too tired by the time I got to transition. Looking back, I should've trusted my body and not the "numbers" because I was already in transition, my body just hadn't caught up yet. They came back in and told us that my Dr. gave the order to admit me and about that time, a contraction hit and my water broke. I told them I thought it had broken, they checked and sure enough, it had. They unhooked me from the monitors and another contraction hit and this one HURT. I flipped to my hands and knees and felt my body start pushing. "This can't be happening," I thought, "I'm only a 5..." One of the nurses asked "Are you feeling pushy?" to which I responded "Oh yes!" They started to wheel me to a room and this is when things started to get CRAZY.
The ride to the labor and delivery room took maybe 3 minutes and at this point I was praying VERY loudly for God to please please help me make it through until I could get my epidural. Kevin reminded me to relax and i said "Forget that, squeeze my hand as hard as you can!" He, being the good man he is, did just that! Nurses were running around to get things ready and in between contractions I asked one of them if I could get an epidural or anything to help the pain. She looked at me and said, "Umm, well, we'll have to see where you are..." Another contraction hit and she checked me during the contraction. Nonchalantly, she turned to someone and said "She's a 9."
Wait. It had been maybe 5 minutes since I was a 5!
"Did you just say I was a 9??!!" I asked. "Yep", she said, and at that point I knew there would be no epidural, there was no time, I was about to do this all natural and I was elated and terrified and pretty much in total disbelief all at the same time. Dr. Hyler comes waltzing in, big smile on his face, took a look at me and said, "Okay, on this next contraction, we're going to push a baby out!" I just looked at him and then asked if I could have something to brace my feet on because once the pushing sensations took over, I had no control over them without being braced against something. Apparently he told me to push against him if I needed to but I don't remember that. At this point, Kevin, poor thing, is about to pass out as he does not handle his loved ones being in pain. He sits in a chair and waves the nurses away, telling them to help me, he'll be alright. I hardly notice because with every contraction I am varying between my loud prayers, hulk growls, and shrieks of pain. I had pushed once or twice and could tell Jacob was close. The nurse kept telling me "Push through the burn, don't stop!", so I did. In the small, maybe 30 second break, I heard Kevin say, "He's right there, honey, one more push! You're doing so good!", echoing the doctor and nurses. Dr. Hyler said, "Okay, with this next one, put your chin on your chest and push as hard as you possibly can." The next one hit and I bore down with everything I had, convinced I was going to rip the handles off the bed. Jacob came sliding out all at once- head, shoulders, body, and legs - and suddenly, it was all over. I saw him in Dr. Hyler's hands and all I could say was "Oh Jacob! Oh baby! You're here! You're finally here!!!" He was born at 2:25PM, just short of 2 hours after arriving at the hospital, still at a 4. He was 6 lbs, 15oz and 19 inches long.
I remembered to ask if they would delay clamping the cord and if they would put him on my chest, to which they happily obliged. He came out so fast that they had to work to get the fluid out of his lungs, so he didn't get to stay there very long, unfortunately, but he was fine after a few minutes. Kevin thought it was great to get the picture of him below in the bassinet because the name Jacob means "Grasper"! Boy, what a grasp he had!
Overall, it was an amazing experience, albeit intense. What they say is true though, I remember many of the details, but I don't remember the pain. It has to be the endorphins, or just the way God made us, but this birth was much easier than Karis' and I had a much quicker recovery. He's only 3 weeks old and I'm already completely back to normal, including 3 lbs under my starting weight. I was lucky that I had no tears or stitches, thanks to Dr. Hyler's delivery skills.
My only disappointment was I felt that I abandoned (or was abandoned by) my Hypnobabies skills at the end, but after talking to Kevin, he felt that they had served me well. I managed to stay home until transition and get through a natural childbirth without fear and anxiety and that was a major accomplishment. One of my dear friends calls Jacob my "healing baby" and in many ways, she's right. I was forced to face many fears through this pregnancy and delivery and in the end, I came out on the other side a stronger, more confident person. I can trust my body, I can trust my Creator. I CAN do it.
We've since encountered some reflux/gas/breast feeding issues, although he rarely cries, we can tell he's in pain sometimes. Due to my own unrelenting pain that wasn't a latch issue but a circulation issue on my part (my fingers are numb as I type this) and his upset tummy, we've switched to formula. While it's disappointing, I do feel a bit relieved and I enjoy bottle feeding him much better than nursing, I'm just not cut out for it, I was always tense, stressed out, and in pain. I know they say "if it hurts, you're doing it wrong" but sometimes, the problem is out of your control. I consider myself blessed to live in the 21st century with lots of intelligent, loving formula fed babies (myself included) walking around. Honestly, I wish women would stop ganging up on each other and just realize no matter what you choose - epidural or all natural, formula or nursing, working or staying home - we're all in this together and we need each other.
Anyway, we're blessed to have two beautiful children and I already cherish the bond they have. When Karis comes near Jacob, he turns his head to get a look at her. She showers him with kisses and begs to help take care of him. I can't believe that I almost succeeded in denying our family the chance to experience this blessedness that is our Jacob.
Tonight, she asked me, "Mommy, where's Cubby?" (Our nickname for him.)
"He's sleeping, honey."
"Oh... Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"I love my Cubby."
I do too, sweetie. I do too.
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