Isaac's Birth Story

So I went to bed on the December 9 at 41 weeks pregnant, after weeks of false alarms and emotional highs and lows. I was exhausted in all the ways. At my appointment that day, I'd talked about coming in for some sort of induction a few days before hitting 42 weeks, and I was defeatedly sure my body was just going to wait it out.

Instead, I woke up suddenly at 1:45am with fluid trickling down my leg. I had fallen asleep, as always those last few weeks, on my left side with a pillow propping my top leg way up to give baby as much room as possible to wriggle down into the pelvis when he was ready, and he was finally ready. I laid in the dark for a minute, savoring the quiet relief that this was finally it, and then I was seized with a deep, long, strong, painful contraction and NOTHING has ever hurt so good. I knew it was happening this time, and I got up to go to the bathroom, shower, and put on my labor outfit and a pad. I don't even know what else I did between then and the doula arriving at 3am. I timed contractions from 0147 to 0208 and they were all over a minute long and 2-3 minutes apart. After 7 contractions in 20 minutes, and the bone-deep knowledge that even though prodromal labor was painful, THESE were the deep, real contractions I remembered, I stopped timing. 

Angela arrived at 0300, shortly after mom and dad did, and we walked to the hospital. I had to waddle slowly... really slowly during contractions... and I was just so happy knowing I was finally about to meet this baby! I felt like a warrior queen. I had waited and been patient and trusted, and this was finally happening on its own.

I got monitored upon arrival at 0330 and no one disputed the fact that I was in labor. I got checked before getting into the tub around 0410, and I was still at 3cm but more like 80-90% effaced although baby's head was still at -2 station. Ross had strung up some Christmas lights in the bathroom, and I soaked in the dark on all fours, listening to "Colorblind" by myself, collecting myself and trying to wrap my mind around what was about to happen. I swayed my hips to the words, "I am ready, I am ready, I am ready I am fine. I am covered in skin. No one gets to come in. Pull me out from inside. I am folding, and unfolding, and unfolding I am..." The words that had carried me thorough many anxious pregnancy walks worked to get me in the zone. It was all happening at last and I was ready for all of it.

It gets fuzzy after that, as the intensity grew. With Noah and Rosie, I loved Vanessa's detailed doula timeline and pictures. Neither Angela, nor the nurse, nor I had time to make notes or take pictures after this point. I might have tried listening to more of my playlist, but by the time the lab tech came in to draw my blood, it was becoming quickly apparent to me that this was not going to be a "rest between contractions" kind of labor. They were long, strong, intense, and building on top of each other pretty quickly. The buoyancy of the water wasn't providing relief, and counter pressure from Angela quickly became uncomfortable. 

I got out of the tub shortly after 0500 and got in all fours on the bed. That didn't feel right either, so Angela got a peanut ball for me to drape my arms and upper body over, and that was it. That's where I stayed. For some reason, it felt best to hold onto the bed handrail with my right hand and grip for dear life and almost pull my hips to the left during contractions. I squeezed Ross' hand with my left hand, forearm resting on the ball, with my forehead resting on top. 

At first, I was fighting panic. It was all happening so quickly! The nurse's note quotes me saying, "I can't keep up with this intensity" at 0519. Around that point, I asked for an epidural and Angela told me to get through two more contractions. I knew in my head I didn't have time to run a bag of fluids and start an epidural. Nor did I really want to. What I was really saying was that this was wildly overwhelming and I needed help. But then Dr. Sisk arrived at the bedside (at 0548 according to the notes) and I knew I was close to the finish line. I scooted my knees forward and my hips back a bit and sank into it. My mind sank back into my body, my weight sank back into my hips. Instead of tensing up and straightening out, I moaned and opened up my hips and swayed gently in the small breaks between contractions. 

I remember at the very end, I finally found a rhythm in my head. It was something like a low moaning and exhale through a slow count of 4, then the contraction would peak, and I could breathe in again as it eased up, sway my hips in the pause, and then sink into the next wave. That counting helped a lot and eventually I could hear my voice start to catch as I moaned. I knew my body was starting to push. After a few of these contractions, the Fetal Ejection Reflex kicked in in earnest. I think I had 1-2 contractions where I knew THIS WAS IT, although I'm not sure I said anything out loud. I assumed they could all hear it in my voice! The next 1-2 contractions, I wasn't just crowning. I think around that point someone might have asked about switching positions, but I zoned them out and instead shouted, "his head is out!" 

They whisked the sheet off and the doctor was there to catch the baby. When his head was all the way out, I was expecting them to tell me to breathe and wait for the next contraction, but instead they told me to push. I tried once, but it wasn't with a contraction and I was wrapping my mind around the fact that all wasn't entirely well and something must be stuck. Instead of panicking, I took a deep breath and DID push more effectively and after another 2 pushes (I think), he slipped out and all was well. It wasn't the water birth I wanted, but I was on all fours and I asked them to pass him under my the way I'd envisioned meeting him. They passed him under, I rolled to my side, and curled around him on the bed. We did it! The two of us worked as a team and we met face to face at last. 8 days past his due date and just in time for his Birth Day. 

We finally had the first snow of the season that night, and a new season of our livest started that day as well. 

41 Weeks

I wrote almost an entire post here and somehow deleted it all. Fitting. I'm writing this 4 months after the fact and post-dating it, because such is life right now. I couldn't being myself to blog in real time by the end of pregnancy, because I really didn't expect to be pregnant on my due date, let alone beyond that. Yes, the physical discomforts were wearing on me, particularly the left round ligament pain, but I was unprepared for the mental aspects of the last few weeks of waiting. 

On Friday November 12 I was 37.1 weeks pregnant. We finished our homeschool term, I recorded my podcast interview with Kori and Fallon, Noah lost his first tooth (I cried), and the kids had their last week of preschool and co-op as we started our newborn quarantine. I slept like a rock that night, after months of 3-5am insomnia! 

At the end of that weekend, on the early morning hours of November 14 (37.3) I had time-able contractions every 10 minutes for 2 hours, but they petered out. The kids and I made baby's Birth Day cake that day, just in case. My homebirth cart was set up, the bathtub was clean, the newborn supplies were ready and waiting in the bassinet, my parents were on-call for the big kids, our maternity pictures had come back, and excitement was peaking. 

Then that Monday, at 37.4, my midwife had to back out of our contract. Not because anything was wrong, but because Nebraska is stupid (my words) and had launched another one of their campaigns to "investigate the credentials" of homebirth providers. I was devastated. I cried on and off for 24 hours straight. I knew I was excited for my homebirth, but I hadn't realized just how much I was looking forward to the experience until it was no longer an option. I had two counseling appointments and lots of tearful conversations over the next few days. I informed the doctor he was now Plan A and talked about what we could do to make the hospital as home-like as possible. I hired a doula after all. I wrote my first-ever birth plan. With a sinking heart and tears in my eyes, I moved labor and postpartum supplies from the birth cart to a hospital bag. I tried not to attach meaning or a story to the facts. For a few days, I had nary a Braxton-Hicks contraction, and I had a brief reprieve from the hip pain and swelling. I processed the heck out of things, in hopes of creating safety for my body and baby and getting things started again. I felt like I was having to turn all of this around really quickly-- I didn't realize how much I had been counting down to 38 weeks! I was in a hurry to be ready by that day, which felt incredibly rushed.

Then 38 weeks came and went. Baby did, of course, re-engage after a week or so. We celebrated "Thanksgiving" the weekend before the real holiday. I'd hoped to eat a big meal and walk that baby out. I loved the food, but the long walk just induced a good nap. So I didn't go into labor before my doctor and the doula went out of town for the long holiday weekend. I assumed things would kick in once they both got back. Advent started that Sunday, and when the dinner prayer ended with the words, "come Lord Jesus, come quickly!" We started adding, "come baby brother, come quickly!"

Again, I had to confront just how much I'd been counting on 38 weeks, as we approached 40 weeks and I continued to be shocked I hadn't gone into labor. After passing the due date, shock turned into despondency. I stopped timing my spurts of prodromal labor. I started to understand why women would say, "I thought I was going to be pregnant forever!" I knew in my head that I wouldn't, of course. But going to bed with excitement each night quickly turned into going to bed with despair and dreading another sleepless night with no baby in the morning. It was like groundhog day! 

I started to fear my body really had forgotten what to do. I started to wrestle with Rosie's birth story and my mind tried to tell me that maybe my labor with Noah was the exception, and my body failing me was the rule. All lies, of course, but it was an actual mental battle to trust that baby would be born "when the days of my pregnancy had been completed" like the Bible says in these instances. I started to fear the cascade of interventions that I'd be pressured into with each additional day I remained pregnant at my "advanced gestational age."

Meanwhile, I tried to really soak in the last days of life with my 2 big kids, the end of my last pregnancy, the kicks and wiggles, the unique relief of submerging an aching belly in the bathtub. I told baby we couldn't wait to meet him and it was safe to come out now. I oscillated wildly between contented anticipation and anxious suspense. I had to repeatedly claim hope when doubt threatened to take over. 

The weather helped a lot. We were having one of those magical sunny Novembers, so I would rest in bed during rest time, and then shoo the kids outside for the afternoon while I sat in the sun, propped up my feet, and read Labor with Hope and the latest Outlander book. 

On December 1 (39.9), I read this excerpt by Hannah Brencher in light of Advent, and it reassured me:

“I think it is far too easy to package up the story of Elizabeth and say, "See!? Elizabeth is someone who was waiting for something, and then God showed up." Yes, this is all true. But anyone who has felt the waiting period knows the feelings and longings and pain of another day unfulfilled leaves scars. It isn't something you get over instantly (or sometimes ever). It stays with you.

The waiting changes us.

It turns us into different versions of ourselves.

Even though the Bible makes it clear that waiting is an unavoidable part of life, it is still so hard to be able to say, "All of this has a purpose. All of these unfulfilled yearnings are turning me into a steadfast person." That's not something we easily utter or can tell someone else when the waiting has taken a turn for the "too long."

No matter where you are today, God sees you in the waiting. He counts every prayer. He knows what your heart yearns for and the Bible says that if you cannot specifically ask for it, God will still know your desires by the groans of your heart. That is our God.

He is a God who does not dismiss us when the waiting feels endless. He is a God who does not walk out on us or use the waiting to punish us.”

Yet I felt like I'd earned the right to try some home induction tactics by 40 weeks. My due date appointment still showed a healthy baby with good amniotic fluid levels. The day AFTER my due date, I got "induction acupuncture" which did exactly nothing. So I said, "screw it" and after weeks of staying isolated and close to home, we trekked into Omaha for a fancy dinner as a family of four. I was craving a mussels platter from Darios, and I was also trying to reverse psychologize that baby out. "Maybe if I say, you can't come tonight because I have plans, he'll actually come." Alas, labor did not start but we made some really sweet memories. The wait was wearing on all of us, and it was hard for the kids to understand, too, why the baby wasn't here yet when I'd told them he'd be here by Thanksgiving. Rosie was quite offended when baby still wasn't here by his due date, and Noah was needing reassurance that the baby would actually be here no later than 42 weeks (I was needing that reassurance, too).

At 40.4 that Monday, I felt like I was totally within reason to try some more aggressive methods of induction, especially after another round of minute-long contractions every 3-5 minutes for an hour and a half at 1am that morning. I tried pumping over the weekend and had done the Miles Circuit more times than I could count. Chiro, PT, and spinning babies were on repeat. So on December 6, I got my membranes swept. It was totally painless, which told me my body was probably close to being ready and I wasn't interfering unduly. It would either work, or it wouldn't. (I was at 3cm but only 50% effaced with baby's head at -2 station when they checked). I took a nap that afternoon and I SWEAR that when I woke up at 3:30pm, I felt a pop and a small gush of fluid. I called the doula, my doctor, my parents. We got the kids to bed after dinner, Angela came over along with Mom and Dad, and I just kept cramping. Nothing escalated. I finally told the doula to go home after all, and I went to bed really discouraged. Mom and Dad stayed the night, but nothing came of it. I still wasn't in labor by the next morning and the lie that my body had forgotten what to do was playing heavily on my mind. 

I finally went in after 24 hours of this, and while my fluid levels were lower on ultrasound, the amniotic fluid test strip was negative, SO then I just felt stupid and like I was a first time mom and not a third time mom in terms of knowing what my body was doing. It was embarrassing even though, in hindsight, it shouldn't have been. I was just SO READY to meet this long-awaited baby!

On December 8, I read this advent devotional by Hannah Brencher:

“Mary's response is faith, never fear, throughout the entire story. She arguably had every reason to freak out over the story unfolding before her, but she stood firm in her faith and scripted that faith into an anthem.

I can think of several instances in my life where I did not sing a Mary song. Instead, I rehearsed back a familiar anthem of fear to myself. Fear that God would not show up. Fear that promises would not unfold. Fear that I would take the next step only to trip and fall.

Every day, I can choose to glorify God for what he is doing, or I can script a solo story where everything weighs upon my shoulders. 

In your own story, you will often be faced with the same choice: faith or fear. Trust that God will do it or fear that it's all up to you.

…Today you can soak in the reminder that he is a God who picks you out of the crowd for a divine purpose. He makes no mistakes. He never gets it wrong. He's not playing head games with you. He does not spoil his children only to pull the rug out from underneath them.

He walks with you. He covers you. He goes before you and follows behind you. You are precious to him, and he is delighted by your "yes." And even if you live your whole life with a thick film of fear over your eyes, he won't think to love you any less.

You have a choice, though. Every single day. Faith or fear. How will you respond?” 

In spite of these good words, by 41 weeks on the 9th, I was getting really anxious I'd need to induce. The fluid levels looked good, but Dr. Sisk kept me on the monitor for quite a while at my appointment to make sure baby's heart rate was okay and he was really just napping and not stressed. While I sat in the recliner listening to his steady heartbeat, I closed my eyes and visualized going into labor that evening once the kids were asleep. I imagined changing from the outfit I was in, into my labor outfit, bouncing on my exercise ball, calling the doula, relaxing in the tub, walking to the hospital. I saw it all in my mind's eye. 

So when I had evening contractions that petered out again (1 minute long, 5-7 minutes apart after dinner for an hour), I went to bed pretty annoyed. Well, that's putting it mildly. I had some profanity-laced thoughts for God in my journal entry on "December freaking 9th" in which I insisted I was taking my OWN day of PTO tomorrow because Ross had been off all week, ever since my false alarm Monday, and nothing was happening. I vented, "I didn't want to re-start homeschool and germ exposure a measly 2-3 weeks postpartum. I wanted and planned for 5 weeks of REST after this baby was born, and this isn't (****) it. The first week was nice, the second was antsy, and this week has been ridiculous. It's been 3 weekends of meal planning and grocery lists thinking, 'surely this is the last pre-baby,' and here we are well into another (effing) month!"

I ended up falling asleep easily after getting all of that out of my system!

The In-Between

A friend sent this to me last night and it made me tear up when I read it this morning. I've been feeling this deeply but hadn't really seen it put into words anywhere. Because the internet it fickle, I'm pasting the whole thing right here so I can remember.

The article is from Mothering.com and it was written by a Midwife named Jana Studelska

The Last Days of Pregnancy

The last days of pregnancy are a distinct time of in-between. It's a tricky time for mothers, as these last few days are biological and psychological events.

She's curled up on the couch, waiting, a ball of baby and emotions. A scrambled pile of books on pregnancy, labor, baby names, breastfeeding, and not one more word can be absorbed. The birth supplies are loaded in a laundry basket, ready for action. The freezer is filled with meals, the car seat installed, the camera charged. It's time to hurry up and wait. Not a comfortable place to be, but wholly necessary.

The last days of pregnancy - sometimes stretching to agonizing weeks - are a distinct place, time, event, stage. It is a time of in between. Neither here nor there. Your old self and your new self, balanced on the edge of a pregnancy. One foot in your old world, one foot in a new world.

Shouldn't there be a word for this state of being, describing the time and place where mothers linger, waiting to be called forward?

Germans have a word, zwischen, which means between. I've co-opted that word for my own obstetrical uses. When I sense the discomfort and tension of late pregnancy in my clients, I suggest that they are now in The Time of Zwischen. The time of in between, where the opening begins. Giving it a name gives it dimension, an experience closer to wonder than endurance.

I tell these beautiful, round, swollen, weepy women to go with it and be okay there. Feel it, think it, don't push it away. Write it down, sing really loudly when no one else is home, go commune with nature, or crawl into your own mama's lap so she can rub your head until you feel better. I tell their men to let go of their worry; this is an early sign of labor. I encourage them to sequester themselves if they need space, to go out if they need distraction, to enjoy the last hours of this life-as-they-now-know-it. I try to give them permission to follow the instinctual gravitational pulls that are at work within them, just as real and necessary as labor.

The discomforts of late pregnancy are easy to Google: painful pelvis, squished bladder, swollen ankles, leaky nipples, weight unevenly distributed in a girth that makes scratching an itch at ankle level a feat of flexibility. "You might find yourself teary and exhausted," says one website, "but your baby is coming soon!" Cheer up, sweetie, you're having a baby. More messaging that what is going on is incidental and insignificant.

What we don't have is reverence or relevance - or even a working understanding of the vulnerability and openness a woman experiences at this time. Our language and culture fails us. This surely explains why many women find this time so complicated and tricky. But whether we recognize it or not, these last days of pregnancy are a distinct biologic and psychological event, essential to the birth of a mother.

We don't scientifically understand the complex hormones at play that loosen both her hips and her awareness. In fact, this uncomfortable time of aching is an early form of labor in which a woman begins opening her cervix and her soul. Someday, maybe we will be able to quantify this hormonal advance - the prolactin, oxytocin, cortisol, relaxin. But for now, it is still shrouded in mystery, and we know only how to measure thinning and dilation.

I believe that this is more than biological. It is spiritual. To give birth, whether at home in a birth tub with candles and family or in a surgical suite with machines and a neonatal team, a woman must go to the place between this world and the next, to that thin membrane between here and there. To the place where life comes from, to the mystery, in order to reach over to bring forth the child that is hers. The heroic tales of Odysseus are with us, each ordinary day. This round woman is not going into battle, but she is going to the edge of her being where every resource she has will be called on to assist in this journey.

We need time and space to prepare for that journey. And somewhere, deep inside us, at a primal level, our cells and hormones and mind and soul know this, and begin the work with or without our awareness.

I call out Zwischen in prenatals as a way of offering comfort and, also, as a way of offering protection. I see how simple it is to exploit and abuse this time. A scheduled induction is seductive, promising a sense of control. Fearful and confused family can trigger a crisis of confidence. We are not a culture that waits for anything, nor are we believers in normal birth; waiting for a baby can feel like insanity. Giving this a name points her toward listening and developing her own intuition. That, in turn, is a powerful training ground for motherhood.

40. Weeks.

Welp, this is what it feels like for all my pregnant cohorts to deliver before me, to feel like the last month of pregnancy lasts forever, to feel like the baby is never going to come. I couldn't bring myself to write a 39 week update because I thought surely he'd be here the next day, then the next...

I've had a few more nights of prodromal labor that amounted to exactly nothing, though, so if I went through a lot of denial, anger, and bargaining after changing birth plans, I've gone through depression and acceptance in the past two weeks. Just today, I really felt like I was able to accept that he really is just that cozy and safe in there. Likely the warmest, securest, safest place you'll ever be, I guess. Reframing it has helped. I no longer feel like something's "wrong" and he's not going to be able to come out. He's just not in a rush and so far, that's okay. I'm not going to harshly evict him just because I'm uncomfortable. Time to practice what I preach ;-)

I went to PT yesterday and felt like baby "dropped" a lot by this morning. His AFI was 16+ and HR 143 at today's OB appointment, I measured at 38 weeks which maybe corroborates with the feeling of "dropping" and also reassures me maybe he's not ginormous yet. His head was down and flexed and ready to go! I went to acupuncture for gentle "induction" after lunch, and then to the chiropractor ("you are not STILL pregnant!"). Then we had our first outdoor playdate in ages which certainly kept me distracted, if not self-conscious about how little we've seen other people these days.

Pregnancy in the time of this stupid virus has brought a lot more stress than I anticipated, given that it seemed to be fading out when we got pregnant back in March, and this isn't my first baby. However, the world as it now presents itself and affects personal relationships has had its tremendously stressful and isolating moments, and even normal cold and flu season after Rosie's RSV scare is enough to keep me in hiding. I've been SO GRATEFUL for the sunshine and unseasonably warm weather, and the kids mostly seem to be getting along and enjoying the change of pace... for now. I'm hoping this lasts!

They're getting pretty tired of the answer to, "what's the plan for tomorrow?" simply being, "waiting for baby brother." While on the one hand, it's a wonderful illustration of Advent, on the other, it's getting fairly monotonous.

After he didn't come by Thanksgiving like we initially told the kids, we all placed bets on when he'd be born. Winner gets to pick the next place we get takeout from. Rosie was the first to place her bet, confidently saying he'd be born on his due date (today). I bet that he'd come last Saturday when my doula got back in town. I had 3 hours of contractions that night, but clearly no baby. Noah bet November 30, which came and went. Then tonight at bedtime, Rosie sadly said, "I guess baby brother forgot it was his due date!" Ross voted for Dec. 4 which was offensive at the time ("you're betting on me being uncomfortable for another week?!") but doesn't seem so far-fetched now. 

I can't believe November wasn't baby month, after all the prodromal labor, let alone the significant birthdays and milestones and memories it holds. But maybe this is part of God doing this new thing. It's all new. This baby exists because God wants him to exist, not because he fits some neat and tidy narrative, as much as my brain like that sort of thing.

Baby brother, I love that you're chill and safe and you know what you like. But also, gosh, we are so ready to snuggle with you on the outside. As fun as your copious wiggles are on the inside, we are just ready to meet you in full after 9 months of experiencing you in part!

38 weeks

Oh my stars. Did I just post on Instagram last week about having an experience of calm at the end of pregnancy for once? Just kidding. Let's see... last Friday I had a huge podcast interview and immediately afterwards I felt like baby wiggled around a bunch and "dropped" and I was having lots of pressure. I slept like a ROCK that night after getting home late from my homeschool book club. The best I've slept all pregnancy, I think. Saturday, I had a massage, got my breast pump (finally), ran some errands, and probably didn't hydrate enough. Saturday night, I was up for 2 hours with regular contractions every 10-12 minutes. All day Sunday I had Braxton-Hicks and tons of discomfort. 

Monday, my home birth midwife came over to tell me that she was having to cancel the rest of her contracts for the year based on circumstances that are 100% outside of my control. Insert *record scratching* in my brain. What?! 

I spent the whole afternoon alternating between shock, crying, and staring at my phone trying to talk to people and find ANY way to still make this homebirth happen. I knew I was so excited about it, but I don't think I realized how much I'd invested in it in terms of a corrective emotional experience until it was taken away at what is really the very last minute. No one's going to take a new client at 38 weeks. Even if they were willing to since I've had homebirth prenatal care and could essentially transfer my records from a reputable midwife, they're likely booked AND next week is a holiday. Those are the answers I was getting. Or else people suggesting I drive to another state to deliver in an AirBNB. Sorry, but to me that's not a HOME birth. At least not the kind I was wanting. 

I wanted to see what it was like to trust my body and be surrounded with a team I've gotten to know for 9 months who ALSO trust my body. I wanted to know what uninterrupted labor felt like in a safe environment that I was in control of. I wanted to birth in the water. I wanted to shower in my own shower and sleep in my own bed. It felt like I went from an entire pregnancy of looking forward to how completely NORMAL it felt to have the midwife come to me and to think about starting and ending labor in the comfort of my own home to being paralyzed at the thought of arriving in the hospital and experiencing the high levels of stress I had last time when the team was questioning my body and therefore I was, too. Just... no. I was devastated and it felt like all doors were closing in my face after free, easy, access to the idea of a homebirth from day one of this pregnancy. What the heck!?

It brought up lots of baggage from the last 3 years, too: Why can't anything go the way I planned? Why would something that felt so right go so wrong? Why did I get my hopes up only to be disappointed yet again?! And then, of course, fears: does this mean something bad will happen and I am going to NEED to be in the hospital? After crying all night (seriously, my eyes were swollen the entire next day) I reached out to a new set of people as well as to my counselors because I knew I needed to reframe. I talked with the OB on the phone and asked A LOT of questions about making a hospital birth more like the birth experience I'd been planning on this time. I talked with a doula acquaintance that I'd just seen last week who was actually willing to take me on this late in the game simply because she knows me. 

I also started challenging myself to reframe because I needed to get ahold of myself after being in shock for 48 hours. I realized I was partly so upset because of the loss of control and all that brings up, but also partly because the hospital has become really stressful to me between Rosie's 2 hospitalizations and working in a hostile environment during COVID with a horrible manager. I wanted to bypass the whole thing. Maybe I'll never know why I don't get to. But maybe this is an opportunity to address ALL of it and REALLY turn the page on an entirely new chapter. Not just to have a corrective emotional experience around birth and marriage, but around parenting and holding my ground and believing in myself and not really caring so much what other people think of me. I'm educated and informed and my no one cares more about my body and my baby than I do, thank you very much. So. Time will tell. 

My doula does leave town for the holiday next week, so I've been telling baby that it's safe to come any time between now and next Tuesday! What's WILD is that after the midwife came over this Monday, I felt like the baby UN-engaged from my pelvis and weeks of Braxton-Hicks contractions just STOPPED. For a full 24 hours, nothing but occasional baby kicks. Like he KNEW he couldn't come until we had a safe place for him to arrive in. Last night, I started having Braxton-Hicks again and baby has been moving a ton and re-engaging and that's all encouraging. Poor guy. I'm sure the stress hormones were a shock to his system, too.

I teared up a little as I moved things from my birth cart to the hospital bag last night. I really was the most prepared, excited homebirth mama-in-waiting you ever did see. Setting up the birth cart and envisioning the magic was SO fun. Filling the hospital bag and trying to write a birth plan that didn't sound defensive wasn't nearly as fun. But today Rosie asked about the coconut water, apple juice, and applesauce on the stairs and I told her I needed to pack it in my hospital bag so I had energy during labor. (The kids are also sad homebirth is no longer happening, especially Noah. He loves a good party.) She took it up stairs for me and said, "so baby brother has energy, too, because what you eat he eats!" We are all so ready to meet him. As fun as feeling the kicks are, seeing them will be even better.

So. Here's the little "survey" I planned to write this week before everything hit the fan! But it's still a fun recap of what I think/HOPE will be my last pregnancy update!

How far along? I'm technically writing this at 37 weeks and 6 days. Today feels big. We have a new birth plan in place with a provider, a location, and a doula. I sent my birth plan (the first one I've ever written) to the OB and spent an hour on the phone with the doula talking about my birth preferences. Our family maternity pictures arrived in my inbox! My podcast interview for Freely Rooted came out!

Weight gain: I will maybe check tomorrow morning, but as of 37 weeks it was up 26 pounds, which is basically on-par with the first two even though I'm eating way more food. I did start this pregnancy a full 20 pounds heavier, so this is by far the most weight I've ever carried and I feel it in my knees the last few weeks. But I've worked so hard to nourish my body better this time and I'm so hopeful it pays off postpartum!

Stretch marks? Shockingly, no new ones! My sweet belly is just stretching and stretching on baby's behalf.

Sleep: Meh. I'm so used to not sleeping. Let's just say I've read A LOT of novels in the middle of the night this pregnancy! At least I'm not panicked about it like I was at the beginning. I'm also pretty sore and generally have to rotate from side to side because my glutes cramp up after about 90 minutes on one side. And the left side, as always, remains the more painful one. Especially where the round ligament attaches to the pubic bone.

Best moment of the week: Maternity pics and the podcast are both like little presents today after a hard few days. So was my conversation with the doula who just made me feel a lot more at peace.

Miss anything? I so badly miss not being out of breath all the time. Being able to bend at the waist and pick stuff up off the floor will be nice again, too.  Although the last few months are teaching me these kids are big enough to be expected to do more and more of this themselves.

Movement: Lots of little kicks and wiggles as well as hiccups once or twice a day most days.

Cravings? I've actually been craving sushi (philly roll with smoked salmon) or else a pot of mussels from Dario's. Neither is easily accessible right now.

Aversions? Food is so tedious. I've mastered some of the reflux I was having with baking soda in water before bed and being vigilant with digestive enzymes with meals, but I still just have a sour stomach most of the time. Noah's fighting off a stomach bug so I'm sure that's not helping me either.

Symptoms: Of pregnancy? LOL all of them. Low-key nausea, low-key heartburn, shortness of breath, nasal congestion, fatigue, insomnia, back pain, hip pain... But also mystery, delight, anticipation, awe... it really is the best of times and the worst of times.

Signs of labor? Lots of Braxton-Hicks, occasionally some painful contractions. Definitely a sense of baby being lower. But aside from those two hours Saturday night, nothing that could actually be considered pre-labor. But... so weird... my boobs have been more sore again in the last week and I swear I smell like milk all the time now!

Belly button in or out? Oh it's been basically an outie since the end of the first trimester, if not sooner. It's allllmost in umbilical hernia territory but it's barely hanging on. Hopefully I can rehab the separation there without surgery over the course of the next year.

Happy or moody? Less anxious than I have been, which is good. Mostly just tired. It's been a wild ride. Really wanting to soak up the last few days with baby on the inside AND with Noah and Rosie. I feel like I "lost" a few days in the scramble of the changes this week.

Looking forward to: Being in labor and not constantly wondering if today is the day! MEETING THIS BABY.

Birth Plan

 I scribbled this on a paper after thinking for a while. I have never written a birth plan out of fear of being one of "those" moms, because, "you know what happens when you come into the hospital with a birth plan..." (thanks, work). But after my second birth, I knew I needed to not just assume that everyone was on my side in terms of being in control. I wanted to communicate confidence, surety, and a sense of calm. Here's what I scribbled out and texted to my doctor:

-I was a NICU RN the first 8 years of my career and have been an IBCLC the past 6 years.

-I had low-intervention births with our now-7 and 4-year olds.

-I know how birth plans make clients look ;-) But I'd love for this experience to be as homebirth-like as possible.

YES

low lights

water labor

lots of positioning and pushing options

labor down and no coached pushing

ice chips (chewing them helps my anxiety right now)

minimal interruptions

minimal doppler surveillance

delayed cord clamping

look a the placenta afterward

NO 

erythromycin or Hep B

no internal exams unless emergent

no routine pitocin in 3rd stage of labor unless actually hemorrhaging 

no bath in hospital for baby

UNDECIDED (ask first)

saline lock

Vitamin K

37 weeks

Weeks 34-36 were so claustrophobic and I was so over it, and now it feels like suddenly here we are: "full-term" (okay okay I know in my brain it's technically still late-preterm until 38) and I'm totally on labor watch after a little scare earlier this week. I'm 37 weeks today. My app says baby's hands and feet are basically at their newborn size (the kids LOVE looking at this illustration every week). The excitement is palpable in those moments, but at other times I can tell Rosie in particular is struggling to wrap her head around the changes to come-- her behavior has definitely changed. Noah's like, "old news. I know how she feels but I've done this before." And of course I can't find half of the "having a baby" books we got back in the spring when we told the kids. They weren't super interested then, but now that it's clear things are changing I want to read them again to prepare.

I'm alternating between being so excited for labor to start, and between being so shocked that the end of pregnancy is already here and that our family will never look the same. I'm excited to meet this new person but it's still so hard to imagine. Pregnancy is so wild and the belly gets so big so quickly at the end, I can't really wrap my mind around it. I feel like even when I do look in the mirror, I don't get a great picture of what I *really* look like. My bump was a lot smaller at 34 weeks, but that's when we got maternity pictures and I'm SO EXCITED to hopefully get them back this week and see what we all look like as a family of almost-five.

I dug back and found a little survey I did when I was pregnant with Rosie and thought it would be fun to look back again this time.

Most exciting moment: 
Probably the morning I got the positive pregnancy test. I just really didn't know if we'd get to do this again, and I cried tears of joy when it looked like it was all happening. Subsequently, starting to "show" and digging out maternity clothes again was really fun. Dressing a bump is way more exciting than getting dressed at any other time (unless, maybe, you're a 4 year old girl and every morning is an opportunity to ask, "do I look beautiful?!")

I don't know if it qualifies as exciting, but my Mother's Blessing in KC a few weeks ago was REALLY special. I loved being around super familiar friends who have been through all the hard things with me, and celebrating a good, sweet thing. It was so helpful to have a day to process and cry happy tears and feel seen and loved.

Most challenging moment: 
The first trimester was different and stressful with several bleeding scares. Seeing baby on the ultrasound with his heart beating away afterwards was always reassuring (and farther into the first tri, seeing him just chilling there with his little legs crossed at the ankles). But there was a lot of low-key uncertainty in my mind and body until I could feel regular movements. Sometimes it STILL feels too good to be true.

One thing I'm proud of:
The first trimester was, of course, rough. I was crazy fatigued and had a hard time fueling myself enough to sleep through the night without waking up hungry and wired. Then summer was HOT. I think I was good about expressing my overwhelm and doing something about it whether it was reaching out to a friend to vent, scheduling a counseling appointment, etc. Self-care as a homeschooling mom is hard and it hasn't been as regimented or as consistent as I'd like, but I'm proud of myself for not neglecting it or trying to power through. I've been able to give myself more grace, cry when I needed to cry, and celebrate the joyful moments too. I'm also proud of myself for getting through what feels like our first "real" homeschool term even though we homeschooled all last year. I put a lot of work in this summer organizing a full Charlotte Mason year for Noah, and that planning has paid off. We have one week left in our term and we all mostly enjoy our school mornings! Thank goodness for rhythm and routine *somewhere.*

One thing I wish were different:
COVID. I thought it wouldn't affect me as much since this isn't my first rodeo, but being the new people in town in this weird time has been really hard. We started getting out a lot more this spring and summer, but when cases started to rise again at the end of July, I started getting pretty anxious. Even more so as we enter cold and flu season in general. It has been a bit lonely and will continue to be so until this coming spring, I'm afraid. That's been pretty challenging, especially for the lone extrovert in the family. 

Favorite foods:
I don't even know. Sushi always sounds good, even though it often makes me cold! I've had very few moments of craving fulfilled or foods that truly hit the spot (but man, especially in the first trimester when something actually hits the spot, it's REALLY good). At this point, I'm not terribly excited about food in general. Lots of reflux and not a lot of room. I think the only consistently tolerable (albeit not terribly excitable) food has been cookie dough Larabars for midnight snacks. Currently, collagen hot chocolate for a bedtime snack is also hitting the spot. But there's not much I crave or love, although I could go for a pot of mussels from Dario's with some crusty bread right at this moment. 

Least favorite food:
Anything I make myself? Seriously. First trimester cravings unfulfilled kind of haunt me. I really missed all of our favorite KC restaurants. There are no real food options in Blair, so it's been ALL HOMEMADE ALL THE TIME. I'm so tired of cooking, of leftovers, of forcing myself to eat protein... I'm almost looking forward to the crazy breastfeeding hunger just to enjoy food again.

Physical state: 
It varies SO MUCH from day to day. Some days I want to cry because every step hurts. Some days I feel alllllmost normal. Lately, I've been feeling the extra weight I started with this time around. My knees have never had to bear this much weight before. Overall, I'm grateful that my biggest complaints have been musculoskeletal and we've had the resources to get chiropractic care and physical therapy/CST. I don't know what I'd be doing right now without that! Everything else has been more or less an improvement over the last pregnancy, very much in thanks to pro-metabolic eating and supplements the past 18 months. I don't even know if I blogged about when movements started getting consistent, or when Braxton-Hicks started. It's all just feel like a normal progression of a normal part of life, which I'm really grateful for. I'm excited that even planning to labor and birth at home is a continuation of that feeling of normalcy.

Mental state:
Depends on the minute. Currently I'm anxious and a little nervous about a major podcast interview I have tomorrow. After that, I think I will feel a lot of relief. I'm celebrating with a massage on Saturday, and that marks the end of our concrete plans. Then we will just be waiting for baby!

One thing that surprised me: 
How much COVID has impacted me mentally. I've been more reclusive than I anticipated, and I'm anxious about not having solid postpartum support this time around. Most of my friends are past this life stage and it seems like they don't even remember that I'm pregnant, which is a bummer. Then again, I probably consider them my friends more than they consider me theirs. Such is the fun of moving as an adult.

Looking forward to: 
Labor starting! I just really wasn't on labor watch with the first two, and this time I totally am. I'm so excited we are doing things differently and I'm ready to EXPERIENCE it instead of sitting here worrying about pushing a watermelon out of my nostril (thanks, Friends, for that timeless analogy).

36 weeks and 36 years old

At 36 weeks I can officially deliver at the local hospital down the street, and and 37 weeks I can safely deliver with my midwife at home. Basically, I've been counting down the days. In the meantime, I taught my last pre-baby Newborn Care and Breastfeeding classes and I'm alternately "over" pregnancy and slightly freaking out that this baby is growing by the day and has to somehow *gulp* get from there to here. It is immensely reassuring knowing my body has done this before. But also, it's a freaking fantastic achievement and a lot of hard work! It's all fun and games when the bump is tiny. These days it feels like I might just pop open at the belly button, he's getting so big. I actually measured two weeks ahead at my last appointment. I'm sincerely hoping there was some user error with the tape measure or he was just stretching out. I'm perfectly happy with another baby in the 7 pound range!

I was looking back at my pregnancies with Noah and Rosie and remembering that life was majorly stressful at this time. Between 36-37 weeks with Noah, we were just moving into our still-under-construction house after living out of suitcases with family for a month! At this same time with Rosie, Ross was getting a last-minute knee surgery and narrowly avoided cardioversion and a night in the CICU. It's no wonder I was anxious for a few more weeks of baby tucked inside!

This time, no such story. Everything I have left to do will be *easier* when I can bend at the waist and move around like my normal self. I'm so grateful for a normal experience and now I have a little more empathy for women who are impatient at the end of pregnancy. Because somehow, here we are. Approaching the end of this journey and this season of life.

Time feels so slippery and elusive these days. I'm slowly surrendering to the messes that aren't going to get organized and walls that aren't going to get painted (urgh) and instead wrapping up some mental and emotional loose ends. I still need to write letters to the kids before the baby arrives. I had one last in-person lactation consult, and I have a BIG podcast interview on Friday. Then... maternity leave. And then... baby. I had a bit of a scare on Monday this week with some painful cramping. Never figured out what was going on, but it made the impending arrival a LOT more real.

35 weeks? Check.

Time is flying. When my pregnancy app countdown first switched to single digit weeks remaining until my due date, I freaked out a bit. But now seeing those numbers get smaller each day is downright THRILLING. 

I'm feeling like this is a November baby and prior to my midwife appointment this week, I hadn't even let myself think I might still be pregnant at 39... 40... 41 weeks. I am NOT mentally or physically prepared for that. In my head, once I hit 38 weeks all bets are off and that baby is coming, right?

Right?

At least now Ross and I have had a conversation about what to do that week if there's still no baby (take the kids on a 24-hour staycation, schedule a massage, splurge on dinner and a movie as a family...)

But I'm still also okay if he comes in, oh, 8 days once we reach full-term. All along, there was a tiny question as to whether my midwife would be available. Her daughter-in-law was due exactly a month before me, but if she went to 42 weeks and I went to 38 and the midwife was out of town... ???

However, the baby has been born, the travel has been scheduled, and she'll be back by the time I reach 37 weeks, which is the earliest I could deliver with her anyway. So that's one questions answered, which is nice!

Between 34-35 weeks, I reached a level of OVER IT that I don't recall from previous pregnancies. Then again, it feels like FOREVER since I've been pregnant and I'm experiencing it all again from scratch.

Highs from this past week: 

Mom, Rosie, and I spent all day Saturday making freezer meals and it was SO MUCH more fun and productive than when I spent like 3 days doing it alone last time. We even got to play outside in the last of the fall weather for a bit that afternoon. And I have like TEN great meals in the freezer ready to go, plus lactation cookies and a few loaves of bread.

Counseling on Tuesday was EXACTLY what I needed and I was really reminded that I'd like these next few days and weeks to be cozy and making memories with the two kids I do have right now, because they're amazing and everything is about to change, even if it's good change. The to-do list is just about as done as it can be (even though it's not as DONE as my OCD brain wants it to be). The birth cart is ready and newborn and postpartum clothes are washed. Diapers have been purchased for the first time in over 2 years (eek) and it's all happening. 

Lows: 

My pelvic pain was SO bad Saturday just moving around the kitchen in a limited capacity. Then Sunday and Monday I had a horrible headache and was feeling really overwhelmed and claustrophobic in my body. 

It's so hard to do physical tasks these days even on the best days. I drop everything and can hardly bend over to pick things up! I still need to clean up the bathtub for prospective water birth, maybe tie up some financial loose ends (I'm paranoid what if I die in labor and Ross doesn't even know where my retirement money is), finish our school term... Although after chatting with my Charlotte Mason group and with the counselor, I'm feeling way less stressed about doing that 100% perfectly these last few weeks. Taking last Thursday and Friday off was much-needed and more beneficial than a picture-perfect 12-week term. Do I want my kid to remember the last few pre-baby fun things, or a few extra math lessons? Easy answer!

Overall, I'm ready to be done but also so grateful for the journey. This pregnancy has gone by really quickly in a lot of ways. It's also felt so... normal? Like, my friend Whitney in KC and I talk a lot because all our kids are close in age and being pregnant together was good for my sanity and there's a lot of solidarity there. But many of my friends here have 3, 4, 5+ kids already? So being pregnant with my third is old news. Also, I'd say my friend net here has been cast wide but not as deep as I'd like thanks to the timing of our move. I don't have super close friends here yet and there's less social everything these days. Also, I'm... different now than I was 4.5 years ago and not so emotionally attached to being a pregnant person. I think maybe that will make the transition to newborn life easier? I'm trying to take the delightful parts of pregnancy, celebrate, cherish, and remember them, and leave the rest.

Sweet Potato, Onion, and Italian Sausage Sheet Pan Dinner

This is not a perfectly exact recipe, because it doesn't need to be. So stinking easy, and my kids say it smells like pizza while it's baking!

Ingredients:

2 packages sweet Italian chicken sausage links, sliced into 1/2 inch segments

2 bags frozen, pre-cubed sweet potatoes (or roughly 3-4 large sweet potatoes, peeled and cubed)

1 yellow onion, very coarsely chopped

1-2 Tbs avocado or olive oil

salt and pepper to taste

Directions: 

1. Preheat oven to 425.

2. Line a large, rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper, dump all ingredients on the sheet pan and mix until everything is covered in oil.

3. Bake for 20 minutes, flip, and bake for another 20 minutes.

Pro-Metabolic Lactation Cookies

In the spirit of re-visiting some old blog recipes, I eat a little differently now than I used to and I needed to find a lactation cookie recipe without almond meal. Turns out, I like these even better than my old recipe!

Pro-Metabolic Lactation Cookies (makes about 24 cookies)

1 cup butter at room temp

1 cup organic white sugar

1/2 cup brown sugar or coconut sugar

2 large eggs

2 tsp vanilla

2 scoops collagen*

6 Tbs unfortified nutritional yeast or Brewer’s yeast**

1 1/2 cup cassava flour (or 2 cups white wheat flour)

2 cups organic quick oats

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

1/2 - 1 cup chocolate chips

*I like Perfect Supplements brand 

**Nutritional Yeast and Brewer's Yeast have different flavors. I recommend adding to the batter slowly and tasting as you go if you're not used to baking with either of these.

1. Cream together butter, sugar, brown sugar, vanilla, and egg (don’t rush this step!)

2. Add nutritional yeast and collagen and stir until incorporated. 

3. Add cassava, oats, soda, salt, and mix well. Then fold in chocolate chips. 

4. Refrigerate dough for 30-60 minutes. (If you try skipping this step, let me know!)

5. Roll into balls and bake at 350F for 11-13 minutes.

For what it's worth, if you make 1 dozen cookies, each one contains 238 calories, 12g fat, 31g carbs, and 3.5g protein

FOR VARIETY:

Chocolate oat lactation cookies: Replace 2 Tbs cassava flour with 2 Tbs cocoa powder

Cinnamon raisin lactation cookies: Add 1 tsp cinnamon and replace chocolate chips with raisins

Gingerbread lactation cookies: Add 1 Tbs dried ginger, 2 tsp cinnamon, 1 scant tsp cloves, and replace 1/4 cup of brown sugar with blackstrap molasses

Spaghetti and Meatballs

Lately when I'm in the kitchen and my belly bumps up against the sink, I flashback to my water breaking with Rosie because that's when it happened. I was making dinner, went to wash my hands, and... then it happened. Only a few days ago did I realize I was making spaghetti with meat sauce for dinner that night. Which is sweet because Rosie's favorite dinner in the world is spaghetti and meatballs!

I have a modified meatball recipe on the blog here, but to be honest it's not the best. And when we had to go egg-free for Rosie, I couldn't use that recipe anyway. So here's a new meatball recipe that's easier and tastier!

Ingredients:

1 lb ground beef

1 lb ground pork

1/3 cup cassava flour

3/4 cup beef bone broth

1 Tbs salt

1 tsp onion powder

1 tsp garlic powder

1 tsp Italian seasoning blend

Noodles or bread of choice 

Instructions:

1. Preheat oven to 350. Mix the cassava flour, salt, and spices together in a small bowl.

2. Dump this mixture into a large mixing bowl with the broth and whisk until smooth.

3. Add ground meats and mix until everything is incorporated.

4. Roll into meatballs and lay them in one layer in a glass baking pan. Should make 20-25 meatballs.

5. Pour 1 jar spaghetti sauce on top of the meatballs and back at 350 for 25 minutes or until cooked through.

6. Serve on top of your favorite pasta noodles or some crusty bread for a meatball sandwich!

34 weeks feels suddenly very real

Seven and a half years ago, I went from working full-time, often with more than one job, often with night shift and/or grad school thrown in, to majorly slowing down and staying home with my new baby Monday through Friday. At first, it didn't feel like slowing down because I had a colicky baby and postpartum anxiety and severe sleep deprivation. I still worked weekend nights, and we finagled it all without family in town or childcare, so I didn't have much downtime.

I eventually found a better weekend job that was life-giving and I put in literally thousands of hours, in the tiny margins of mothering, to become an IBCLC. It was maybe one of the first times I'd experienced the work being hard but joyful because I loved the material and it launched me into my dream job.

Then I started my own private practice in addition to hospital work, took a MOPS leadership position, and started growing another baby. Thus began a 4-year streak of over-functioning, to which I piled on physical illnesses, emotional distress, marital separation, and so many fluctuating iterations of working and momming. I felt like I was always frantic, never meeting anyone's actual expectations or needs, always disappointing the next person, my kids, myself...

That was a deep pit to climb out of. Expensive, too: financially, emotionally, and energetically. I am so different from that lost 29-year-old new mom now that it's hard to believe so (relatively) little time has passed. Now that first baby is a school-aged kid as tall as my shoulders. My medical chart says G5P2 and "advanced maternal age." Something about the time elapsed makes me feel like I should be a seasoned mom, like the last 7 years have been worth 70. They kind of have. The other night, Rosie asked what those lines on my forehead were. I've changed inside and out. Like I often tell my clients in the throes of postpartum struggles, some people have a steeper learning curve for motherhood than others. I'm totally willing to own that I know this from messy experience.

I'm not sure that I had any vision of what I wanted motherhood to look like 7 years in. On one hand, maybe that's good because for once I can't be disappointed when expectations aren't met. On the other hand, I think maybe I did have expectations for how it would feel. I didn't expect it to feel so hard. I didn't expect the tension between what I want my career to look like and what I want my mothering to look like to constantly feel at odds and require re-evaluation every 3 months. I'm always reminding myself that my identity isn't in my productivity OR in my kids. Yet each day feels like making a million tiny choices between those two things. And if I'm not really careful, I burn out and then choose to numb out and escape instead of pouring into something or someone I care about, or doing something that will actually be restorative for my tired heart.

So is it any wonder that I'm even more introspective than usual as I round the corner on the final weeks of this pregnancy? Baby seems to have finally committed to being head-down and I can feel that all 4-5 pounds of him have dropped into my pelvis this week. Suddenly there's a new urgency to everything. I'm accepting that night wake-ups, sore hips, and fatigue aren't going away any time soon.  New for me, I'm also willing to acknowledge that I'm kicking butt at homeschooling this year WHILST being tired and sore and pregnant. Not because I'm doing all the Pinterest-worthy things (or even some of them), but because we hit most subjects most days, and the kids and I actually have a rhythm for maybe one of the first times ever. I make mostly healthy food mostly three times a day. My house is slowly getting more organized when the nesting urge and windows of kid-free time outweigh the physical and emotional fatigue (don't mistake this for looking more clean if you come over unannounced).

Reframing things by looking at what I HAVE done well instead of what's still on my to-do list is one way I have learned to remind myself that it's enough to do what I've been given in a day. Even if it looks different from what I thought it would. Even it it looks different from my friends or that one person who surely has it all together. One moment at a time is all I can really offer.

I'm not saying I am "mother enough" or even that "motherhood is enough." I will always have room for improvement. I will always have an identity deeper than my roles and responsibilities. I will also probably always have a restless heart and big dreams as well. But I won't always have a curious 7 year old and a spunky 4 year old who think I hung the moon. I won't always have a house brimming with excitement over meeting the tiny person who will fill these freshly-washed baby clothes soon. I have a few more weeks of feeling these kicks and wiggles from the inside. I have another season of babyhood to look forward to. An opportunity I never expected to get.

Seemingly suddenly, 18 months after moving and the start of a pandemic, it feels like career opportunities and networking are finally happening, and I'm saying no. Not yet. And it gets a little easier each time I say it. Because instead of worrying about what I'm missing out on, I get to focus on what I'm saying yes to. This life season will never come again. Work opportunities will.

So while I never originally planned to homeschool at all, or even to "just" be a mom without working from or outside the home in some capacity, I find myself craving the rare days when that's "all" I have to do. I'm realizing that "all" is actually everything. This time, instead of trying to cram everything else in anyways, I'm going to listen and slow down. And slow down some more. (The shifting calendar season helps so much.) I trust that when the time is right to ramp things up again, I'll feel that tug too. 

One important part of trauma recovery has been learning to live in the grey. I'm not nearly as stuck in the black and white as I felt for so long. I have worked harder than I've ever worked at anything to simply get to where we are today: I like my husband. My kids are safe. We live near family. It's all so far from perfect, but it took consistent little choices as well as some big scary ones to get here. And I'll be darned if I'm going to shame myself out of sitting right here and enjoying it, bleary eyes and medical bills and bickering kids and all.

Day in the Life: 33 Weeks Pregnant (almost 3 kids!)

Noah (7) and Rosie (4) are at ages where they are capable of playing nicely with each other and entertaining themselves. When this does happen, I mildly freak out about diving back into the newborn period. But I KNOW the sweetness will make up for the chaos. (As I type this, I'm breaking up a fight, so.... the moments of calm are short lived even now!) But I want to remember these relatively "calmer" days. Today I turn 33 weeks pregnant and -ish is getting REAL. I miss being able to bend at the waist and take a full breath. The last few weeks are going to fly by. So here's what life looks like today, when we have nothing but "normal" on our calendar for the first time in a while.

I was up for a bit at 2:30 and 4:30am last night. It's been pretty predictable for me to wake up to pee at midnight and wake up to have hot flashes, growling stomach, and generalized anxiety at 4am ever since the 3rd trimester started. I'm not a fan. However, last night was better than the night before! I've been really trying to eat and drink more throughout the day, including getting two sources of glycine-rich protein every day (bone broth and collagen or gelatin). I know I'm eating more protein than I used to, say, a year ago, but I'm trying to amp it up even more for the sake of sleep as well as postpartum recovery. This pregnancy is a little different in that I feel like I'm force-feeding myself by the end of the day just to get enough food, versus just honoring my hunger cues (and consequently probably not eating enough calories or protein). I don't remember running out of room in quite the same way with the first two, but then again it's been quite a while since I've been pregnant.

Anyway, the kids were making enough noise by 0715 that Ross got up to get them some breakfast. I snoozed for another 30 minutes. I got to bed a bit late last night, and I'm REALLY trying to spend 8-9 hours in bed each night, since I know I'll be wide awake for 1-3 of those hours.

Then I got up and scrolled my phone while I ate breakfast in silence. Ugh. I'm realizing that would've been a perfect time to do some of the Bible study I'm always bemoaning about not being able to wake up early or lay on my stomach in bed for these days. 

0800: I had a breakfast of a grapefruit juice adrenal cocktail; oatmeal with raisins, pecans, collagen, and syrup; and 1 breakfast sausage (Rosie stole the other one). (Subtracting the swiped sausage, this only ended up being about 23g of protein which is a little shorter than I was aiming for.)

Wow. I've been interrupted 3 times since starting this post! So much for the calm. 

0915-1115: Started the school day a little later than usual because I started this post. Played our hymn of the month and rallied the kids while getting our morning supplies out. Today we covered Bible, handicraft, reading, math, natural history, Spanish, handwriting, and history. We are 7 weeks into our 12-week term and I feel like we are all finally adjusting. Rosie was able to sit at the table for most of today's lessons and color/practice in her pre-handwriting book, which was nice. She's been feeling a little left out on Tuesdays and Thursdays when she doesn't have preschool and Noah's lessons dominate our mornings.

1045: I snack on a homemade granola bar with my pregnancy tea because I'm getting tired. We sit outside for play, Spanish, and history and the sun feels perfect with the 60 degree temps! Finally we have some ideal fall weather! Trying to make the most of it- let's face it, I'm physically uncomfortable indoors or out, so might as well be out as long as I'm not pushing it with a too-long walk in the heat or something.

1115: The kids take off with their imaginary play games while I make lunch and put school stuff away. 

1145: Salami, crackers, carrots, and mango for them. Hash browns and 3 eggs sautéed with ghee, onion, and pepper (from our garden) for me along with some mango. Again, only 21-ish grams of protein for this meal, but I have to force myself to finish it over 40 minutes as it is! I had planned to do brush drawing after lunch, but the kids are happy outside (the weather really helps) and I'm exhausted, so I let them play and eventually join them for a bit while I re-read The First Forty Days. Then Rosie bit the dust on the sidewalk, so coming in was a bit chaotic.

1230: Stories before rest time.

1300: Rosie and I napped the entire 90 minutes of rest time! I could've kept going, honestly. I'm somehow more tired instead of less tired! It feels like it's been weeks since we had a normal rest time without having to rush somewhere before or after. I will definitely be napping at rest time for the foreseeable future as our schedule slows down.

1450: Noah came downstairs and had his snack (beef jerky and dried fruit) and played dominoes by himself while Rosie and I woke up a bit. Then Rosie and I snacked (hot cocoa with collagen for me = 10g protein). I seem to be having reflux again the last few days, reminiscent of the first trimester. Not a fan. I print out new 1000 Hours Outside tracking sheets per Noah's request, as well as a Facebook Marketplace shipping label, and the kids manage to get into a squabble that results in one crying the minute I leave the room. *SIGH*

1500-1645: We walk to and from the library. Again, the weather is just perfect. I'm so happy. I walked slowly, with my belly support belt, and still feel fairly decent afterwards. The kids are now sitting happily in front of their CD players listening to audio books while I warm up leftovers for dinner. Thursdays are my long days since Ross doesn't get home until after the kids' bedtime, so I'm thrilled I have leftovers today. While dinner warmed up, I ordered a postpartum nightgown, postpartum underwear (glamorous), and one of Rosie's Christmas gifts. I'm realizing that between baby and holidays together, I need to have my act together to literally JUST REST as of November 1.

1745: Ate leftover beef stew and crackers with the kids. Perfect for a cool, cloudy evening in! (30-40g protein based on the recipe in the Cook Once cookbook).

1815-1845: Brush drawing. Not normally something we'd do this late in the day, but the weather was too good to miss earlier, and Rosie is a brush drawing fanatic. Once I mentioned doing it today, she has not forgotten! This meant constant refereeing, breaking up fights, one 4 year old meltdown, and standing at the sink to clean LOTS of brushes while the kids got their pajamas on at the end.

1900: Hot chocolate for the kids' bedtime snack while I take a quick shower, then they brush their teeth  and we start stories. 

1955: On Thursdays, the kids fall asleep in my bed. I used to fit between them and be able to get to bed early too. But between Noah's latest growth spurt and my belly, that's not really possible these days. So I lay on the nugget on the floor and watch an Office episode while they fall asleep.

2030: I eat my own snack of beef jerky (4g protein), dried fruit, and tulsi tea. I ate a total of 80-95 grams of protein today. Not quite what I was aiming for (100-120), but can't fathom eating/digesting more! Here's hoping I can sleep tonight. I'll probably eat a Larabar at some point before morning, so I guess that's another 3g protein for what it's worth! I am so (literally) tired of waking up hungry and wired at night. Overall, though, today was a fun and low-stress day. I think the kids needed a day without obligations as much as I did. Planning to have many more of these between now and D day (which is a max of 49 days away, but much more likely 35-42 days away).

28 weeks + ready for a mental health break

Last weekend, I had an insane bout of upper back spasms. I used to have these 36 hour attacks every few months, but it's been a year since the last one and I truly thought they were behind me. That was not the case Monday evening when the pain it started out of nowhere and I straight-up panicked because I didn't know if I could take Flexeril or anything remotely helpful for the pain. I made it through, but failed my 1-hour GDM screening test in the process with a blood sugar of 180. In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have done the test the same appointment I was complaining of pain that was 10/10 and worse than labor. Hello, stress hormones! Thankfully, the doctor is letting me redo it next week.

In the meantime, I've had a 3-day counseling intensive planned for this coming week since July, and I'm so so so glad we committed the time and (painful amount of) money because I am READY.

I'm ready to process the last 18 months post-move that looked so different than I'd planned. I'm ready to process my previous postpartum experiences and mentally and strategically prepare for a different one this time around. I'm ready to really connect with this baby because, let's face it, between a scary first trimester and a super busy second trimester, I've maintained some distance from all the changes that are happening overnight in the recesses of my body and heart. 

Frankly, even though homeschool is definitely the right choice right now, I'm also ready for a break from the planning and the putting into practice that we've been doing so consistently.

I also recently re-committed to building an online breastfeeding course after recruiting a fellow IBCLC to join me. I'm simultaneously excited and terrified to somehow get this done before my due date as well as everything else on my to-do list. At the same time, I know my professional brain hasn't gotten much exercise lately and I think/hope that dedicating time to this will help me feel more balanced and less overwhelmed. At least professional work has tangible, measurable results at the end of the day and I can't always say that for parenting or even checking off the schoolday on the calendar.

I'm so hopeful for what adding to our family will look like, I'm so grateful that our marriage is in a place to welcome a new life, I'm so apprehensive about the big changes it will entail, I'm so grieved that this time (barring some great big surprise) it really is the last pregnancy and what if I haven't cherished it enough, and I'm a little panicked at the countdown. I know I won't *arrive* in life by the time the baby is born, especially given that, as Noah pointed out, we likely have "less than 11 Thursdays left" until we meet him earthside. (Also, an amazing quote from Noah a few weeks ago: "we do a lot of things at home that other people go places for: homeschool, home birth...")

So much is different this time, and I'M different. And I'm hoping to re-remember some of that this week while I'm doing the work of processing and growing and making room for what matters.

Second Trimester (aka Summer 2021) Recap

I taught my Newborn Care class this weekend and realized that for the past year that I've been teaching it, I've either not been pregnant, or (for the last 3 classes) been far less pregnant than the other mamas. Next time I teach, I'll be 36+ weeks and likely the most pregnant one in the room!

As I have been anticipating since 20 weeks or so, I am hitting a bit of a panic point as I transition into the third trimester with this third baby. It's temping to think, "I haven't done anything I wanted to do!" because I didn't really nest or clean or organize the house like I've been itching to, and I know my energy levels will likely start dropping quickly.

However, I've done so much in just getting through a hot hot summer with two kids during a pandemic. We've done swim lessons and Wild + Free and 3 different camps and a trip to Kansas City and a family vacation. If it hadn't been totally disgusting weather-wise, I honestly would've forgotten I was pregnant for large chunks of time this summer. 

Random tension headaches seemed to sneak up every week or two and knock me down and out for a day. I would also have random weeks of crazy hip pain, and I feel like weeks 22-26 baby was consistently transverse which was putting a lot of pressure on my symphysis pubis, my SI joints, and my poor umbilical diastasis recti. While I feel healthier overall this pregnancy by far, it's pretty clear that my connective tissues are kind of over the stretching. Thankfully, after lots of chiro adjustments, PT, and an osteopathic adjustment with the DO I'm seeing for my prenatal care, I feel like baby is kind of getting the idea that he needs to commit to being head down now.

The past 3 months, some days I would feel GINORMOUS and be waddling from discomfort and look in the mirror and barely look pregnant. Other days, I'd catch a glimpse of a belly that seemed to grow huge overnight, and regret that I have been completely horrible about taking weekly or even remotely consistent belly shots this pregnancy and... it's all happening anyway!

But really, I mostly feel like myself except with a constant little sidekick, and I'm wildly grateful to have reached milestones like viability and now the third trimester. Second trimester has been pretty great and I'm hoping that sticks around for quite a while longer. This season is so special and so fleeting and I'm looking forward to starting to slow down and nest and draw inward and savor it.

26 + 27 weeks

I had to get out my calendar to trigger some memories here. We just finished our first two weeks of the homeschool term, so that's where my mind has been lately. 

26 weeks

We started this week off with a viral exposure scare, but thankfully we all tested negative after quarantining per protocol, so we were SUPER grateful to get to go on a little family vacation to South Dakota. We hit up the Laura Ingalls Wilder homestead in Desmet and honestly, it was the PERFECT little 3-day getaway. We got an AirBNB on Lake Thompson. It was nothing fancy, but perfectly isolated and peaceful. The kids had a blast exploring the cabin and the rocky beach and the stormy waves the day we got there. They had zero fear of the lake water, which was so fun. Just pure joy. I have now been pregnant on a beach with each kiddo: The Adriatic Sea and Pacific Ocean with Noah, Lake of the Ozarks with Rosie (although sadly I don't think I even got my feet wet that time), and now Lake Thompson with baby brother. 

Noah and Rosie are such a fantastic little duo (most of the time) that sometimes it's hard to imagine changing up the dynamic. But I know how much the love in our family grew when we added a second kid, even though it was hard to imagine it beforehand, so I know it'll be the same again. More kids = more love even if it also = more chaos.

27 weeks

Two days post-vacation, Noah started co-op and Rosie started preschool. The next day, we started our first day of Charlotte Mason Form 1A Term 1. I've been prepping all summer and thankfully that work paid off. I felt prepared, albeit EXHAUSTED at the end of the morning. It also makes everything feel like it's all happening all of the sudden, since I purposely chose the start date of our 12-week term by counting backwards from 38 weeks of pregnancy. 

This week, we also got to "meet" the kids' newest cousin via FaceTime. Rosie was so earnestly asking the new big sister, "What do big sisters do?" She's taking this role really seriously and she's a little nervous about it. I'm not sure how to handle that since Noah has always been so matter-of-fact about adding siblings. Rosie will simultaneously be so sweet and loving, kissing my belly button and saying good morning to baby brother, and then withdraw and being anxious about the coming changes. I'm trying to communicate that to an extent, I totally get it. It's normal to oscillate back and forth between all the feelings! I need to ask for some guidance and start praying for her little heart during this transition.