2013

Here it is folks, another obligatory end of the year post!  Every year I resolve to write more on my blog and every year I fail. I suppose I will resolve to keeping this blog for the sole purpose of cathartic writing, so there.  That said, here is a brief look back at the highlights of 2013 (in no chronological order...c'mon it is too late for my brain to function that well).

In 2013:

• We received promise of new arrivals in our home.

• We found out we were having a baby girl.
• My son started home schooling.
• The promise of new arrivals were dashed by a corrupt system that I am convinced is designed to see families fall apart.
• My little boy suddenly stopped being so little, and it made me a bit sad.
• My husband and I went through a new phase of falling in love.
• My husband and I discovered things we never knew about each other.
• I watched my son marvel at the arrival of his baby sister.
• I birthed my daughter on the ottoman of our couch (seriously...how have you NOT read that yet?!).
• I proved to myself that I am stronger than I ever thought possible.
• My husband finally learned that there are in fact inappropriate times to joke around.
• I went another year missing some friends/family that I really want/need to see.
• I watched my little boy morph into a big brother.
• I learned to let go of my past and truly forgive others and myself.
• I strayed from God, but I am finding my way back.
• I met some amazing women who I consider life long friends.
• I started my first online shop where I sell my crochet goodies.
• The lesson of humility hit us and hard.
• I started a foundation for Veterans who suffer from unseen wounds, like my husband.
• I learned my husband is a humble man.
• God tested my faith.

It is my sincere hope that 2014 is good to you all and that fear, doubt, suffering, loss, grief, and anger will have no place in your new year.  I hope the same thing for my family and myself.  I am praying for prosperity, a deeper sense of spirituality and faith in God, a stronger desire and action to help those less fortunate than I, and to rid myself of all negativity.  God bless you and keep you and His grace be ever upon you!

Love,

Sally 

Better.

I feel different.  We moved around our entire kitchen and dining room because we needed more room.  I like how it is set up, but it will take some getting used to...I'm not into feng shui (I don't even know if I've spelled it correctly), but somehow I feel different.  As we were moving things around, Travis and I were having a conversation about our parenting decisions and suddenly I felt different.  I told him as much.  I explained how I've been feeling empty inside and just tired emotionally/physically/mentally/spiritually...but suddenly just felt different.  The feelings weren't bad, almost the tiniest hint of rejuvenation.  Last week was a horrid week in our household on all fronts.  I even hopped on facebook and asked for prayer, which is something I generally don't do but I was desperate.  I am hopeful that the Lord heard someones intercession for us because whatever that darkness was hovering over our house and seeming to follow us everywhere, it is leaving.  Lighter is probably a better word to describe the feeling.  So tonight I sit here feeling contemplative about my relationship with the Lord and for the first time in a very long time have a desire to study my Bible.  Yes, it has been that long.  I was communicating with a friend of mine how far from God I feel lately and how shaky my faith has been; I say lately but is has been the better part of 2 years. That verse that talks about the wishy-washy waves.  That is me, right now.  I feel good, for a minute, but then something happens or someone happens and I am right back down there.  BUT TODAY:  the clouds may be clearing and, however faint and small, God is calling me.  I don't hide my spiritual beliefs, but I don't brag about them either.  God is God all by Himself and he doesn't need me to prove it.  I wish more Christians could understand that. I told Travis that we have a season of "better" before us.  I believe that is what I said to him, better.  2013 brought us new life, new experiences, new challenges, and now a new hope.  I remain hopeful.  I am still learning how to be steadfast.  I cannot tell you how many times, these last couple years, I have fallen down where I stand and just cried out. God says he can make prayers out of moans and groans and that's a good thing because Lord knows I have done just that when crying out. 

"Renew a steadfast spirit within me..."  I hear this in my head and feel it in my very soul.  I know moving around some furniture didn't cause this change, I know it was God.  I am glad that I can feel the negativity moving on, away from my family and our home.  Free.  Light.  I've been teaching TJ a new scripture every week for school and because he is only 3, I try to keep it short and simple so he can memorize it....but I often wonder if I am really the one who is choosing which verse every week.  Here is to hope, change, and better.  I just want to be better.  I know who I want to be, I know who I am now, I know who I don't want to become.  Someone told me once that I act like I am "better than everyone else."  That really hurt me, because if that person only knew how I feel about myself they wouldn't have said that. I am sorry to anyone I have ever made feel that way.  Please know that I don't think myself better than anyone else.  I didn't intend for this post to go there, but it did.  *phew*

I just want to be a better Christian.  A better wife, a better mother, a better person. 

~Sally

 I want to start out by apologizing to every parent I have ever judged at the checkout of a store.  I used to think it was insane that the parents ever let their kids act like that in public...OH HOW THE MIGHTY HAVE FALLEN!  My son was that kid tonight at the check out, touching and moving every single item in the end-caps and low crawling on the floor.  I must say that I am proud of myself though, I managed to keep my cool and redirect his attention to something else to get him off the floor.  So anyway, yes I apologize because now I understand completely what it is like to be with a rambunctious 3 year old in public in the middle of one of their "moments."  I love my son, he is fierce, funny, witty, sweet, and capable of throw downs the likes of which most have never encountered.  So please forgive my once naivety and understand that I understand, okay?  

So I have a 3 year old and a 2 month old now.  TJ loves being a big brother, but I think he is still a bit unsure how to act around Hannah.  Sometimes he is hesitant to engage her and sometimes he needs a gentle reminder that she isn't ready for contact sports at this time. He has been a big help though; he loves grabbing her diapers for changes and he thinks its amazing that she smiles at him so much. Seriously, this little girl loves her brother to pieces.  He will sing her lullabies and rub her head when she nurses, melts a mommy's heart. My little guy suddenly grew up and really wants to go to school.  I have been seriously debating with myself and with Travis over homeschool vs. public school.  On one hand, I am a paranoid parrot when it comes to my children and if I teach them at home I know I am protecting them from the world for just a bit longer.  On the other hand, I want my kids to experience things like class field trips, 5th grade camp, marching band, school dances, and things that I know I enjoyed in school.  Anyway, I have been working with TJ more and more on his counting and his writing.  The boy can write the letter "t" like nobodys business.  It has been hard to convince him that there are actually 25 other letters in the alphabet that he needs to learn to write and that they are both upper and lower case.  He can trace them just fine, but free style and suddenly all the "u's" turn into lower case "t's" and the perfectionist in me starts to freak out.  We are still waiting for a spot to open up for him in pre-school, but I am not holding my breath.  Overall I have a smarty pants 3 year old, eager to learn, who loves his little sister, and gives the best cuddles ever.  There has been a bit of jealousy over Hannah, but thankfully it is NOT directed at her.  Not to mention TJ is a 3 year old and his rebelliousness is just starting to kick in.  I pray it won't last long!  I decided to start homeschooling my little Travis.  I don't want to overwhelm him, so we've got a very basic curriculum. If this works out then I will add more subject matter, as his abilities allow.  So far he enjoys it. He has trouble tracing, but it gets better every day. Love my smart little guy.   


Hannah is two months old!  Hard to believe that I had her that long ago, it still feels like early this morning I was pushing her out and into this world.  What a change in our lives and a wonderful blessing to our family she is!  You know how they say, "be careful what you name your kids because they will take after it?"  Well, I should have paid better attention because my little diva is certainly living up to her nickname!  She likes to stay up at strange hours and talk talk talk, sometimes cry, make demands (haha).  She is gaining more control over her limbs and can now full on chew on her fists, her favorite past time. She loves looking at the dog, she can rollover to her side (she really doesn't like laying on her back), and she loves to hear herself talk and squeal.  We've also recently introduced her the baby in the mirror.  Seeing herself in the mirror really gets her going, full body excitement!  

That's about it for now, take care!

Home Sweet Home

I will never look at my couch the same again...ever.  That is the place my body and my baby decided to birth; the place that will always hold a special sacred spot in my heart.  My daughter took her first breath there; that is where she and I met face to face.  That is the spot I felt bonded to her forever.  We had our home birth, welcoming Hannah Irene Kay into our arms early Tuesday morning.  I could not be happier, could not have asked for a better birth experience, and definitely could not have done it without my Lord and without my amazing birth team.

Anyone who knows me, knows I love birth stories; it is a way for moms to connect with each other, bonding over an experience as old as time.  This is the story of Hannah's birth, and my healing and empowering labor and birth experience.  ****WARNING!  GRAPHIC AND BADLY EDITED PHOTOS AHEAD****

8/4/2013
I started to have some slight surges (contractions) with only a few being intense enough to notice.  They never increased in frequency or intensity.  I decided to go for a walk on the trail.  What the heck was I thinking???  The last 1/4 mile, I swear my lady bits were falling apart.  Went home and laid down!

8/5/2013
I had lower back aches upon waking that morning at 9:00.  I had just walked a pretty fast mile on the trail the day before, so I figured it was just sore from that.  Then I noticed that with each "ache" the intensity grew stronger and more noticeable.  Eventually these lower back pains turned into surges, though they were not regular they were definitely more intense.  I tried timing them for a little while, but because they were so infrequent it was difficult...and I couldn't be bothered.  A bit later that morning I had some slight bloody show, I was so excited because I had had ZERO discharge for almost the entire pregnancy.  Only a woman waiting for ANY signs of labor can relate to how exciting that little bit of show can be.  Sorry if it's TMI for some of you folks, but this is a birth story and well...blood kinda comes with the territory. ;)  All throughout the day I noticed that the surges became more regular and intense, but nothing I couldn't cope with using deep breathing or movement.  I had sent text messages to my midwife team, letting them know about the bloody show and just to keep an ear out for a call from me.  However, I was convinced at this point that nothing was happening anytime soon, so I went about my day. Travis went into work later than scheduled until I was sick of his hovering and made him go in!  Later that evening, after getting TJ in bed I decided I needed to sleep. NOW.  Lying down seemed to help with the intensity and frequency of the surges throughout the day, so I figured I would lie down and get some sleep.  Travis had gone to work to do an overnight shift, and I figured I would have the entire bed to myself for the first time in a long time!  I tucked in with my trusty hot water bottle pressed firmly against my lower back.  I fell asleep almost immediately, but was awoken by some intense aching in my back.  I decided to come downstairs because the bed down there is more firm, and I was closer to the bathroom (a must for any preggo mama!).  A couple hours after I had tried going to bed, I decided to start timing these surges as I noticed now that the intensity wasn't just in my back.  So for about an hour I timed and kept track:  they were every 5-8 minutes and lasting anywhere from 30 seconds to 1 1/2 minutes.  I noticed a lot of back aches, so I hopped online to refresh my memory on dealing with back labor as simply hanging on the birthing ball was clearly not cutting it at this point.  I was still convinced nothing was going on because I was able to get on the computer and research, but then again the surges never slowed or decreased.. in fact they were increasing in intensity and frequency!  After refreshing myself on the "ab lift and tuck" and allowing myself to do this through 10 surges, I was feeling a lot better about coping with the intensities.  Then something changed.  I can't really describe it other than to say that my body started to do it's own thing during the surges.  By that I mean, I started to naturally move into positions that made coping so much easier and the sounds coming out of my mouth were akin to nature.  Subconsciously, my mind and body knew that it was time to call my support team.  At 9:51PM I phoned my husband, because I needed him to find a replacement and get home quickly.  That call was immediately followed by a call to my midwife Sara who, after confirming a few things, told me she was sending out the other midwife Jodi to make sure things were going well.  I also phoned my mom and let her know what was going on so she could be prepared to come over.  I then called my best friend Jen who helped me through a particularly intense surge while on the phone, gosh I love that woman!  I knew I was still having a few minutes inbetween surges, so I waited until I had that few moments to make one last call to another friend, Sarah, who has been monumental in encouraging this home birth. I knew other people should have been called...but I didn't have it in me.

After all those calls were made, things really started to pick up.  I found comfort in the birthing ball, hanging on it and vocalizing through each surge.  Jodi came by with all the equipment and after observing a few surges, determined that it was go time.  Active labor!  WOOHOO!

Jodi and I talked and bantered a bit inbetween the surges and somewhere in there my mom arrived.  TJ was in bed so he wasn't aware of the impending arrival of his sister, but I knew he would be up before too long, he is a light sleeper like his mama.  Travis finally made it home and brought me a frappaccino...can I say what an amazing man I have?  He knows me and my needs so well.  After working through a few more surges, and a few trips to the bathroom, Sara was called and Casi was coming with the birth kit and pool liner.  Yay for laboring in the water!

Warm water makes everything better. 

8/6/13 (wee hours in the morning)

TJ awoke as the birth pool was being assembled and he was so excited that he brought out his toy boat and put it in the water.  Needless to say he wasn't impressed when he found out it wasn't really a big bathtub.  Still experiencing surges and their ever increasing intensity and frequency, it felt nice to finally sit in that super warm water.  Submerged up to my chest was like liquid heaven on my entire body.  I couldn't even tell you what time it was at this point, because my mind and body were starting to go into birth mode.  I was fully concentrated on working through the surges and inbetween them could focus my attention on those around me; it is amazing how ones mind shuts down during those few intense moments to go into a primal laboring mode, and then suddenly comes back and can have a coherent conversation.  Of course, I used a lot of humor and jokes as that is my way of coping with any type of discomfort.  Here is where the timeline gets a tad hazy; I am writing this as I remember it and please know that there may be lapses or jumps in the order of events so please forgive me!  Somewhere in all this my wonderful sister came over, and having my birth team present put me at ease and it was then that I felt my body and mind start to relax and allow things to progress.

Can I just say it is not easy to get in and out of a birthing pool?  I had to though, because I had to pee badly and I didn't want to pee in the water *sigh* if I only knew, right?  I made it to the bathroom with Jodi following me in there, sitting on the toilet just felt so much better on my lower back (which is where most of the surges and intensities were present).  I stood up, ready to waddle back to the pool only to have another surge come from left field, causing me to pee on the floor.  Yup.  On.The.Floor.  I was mortified but not really, make sense?  Yeah, it doesn't to me either.  Just when I was getting ready to get into the pool, a surge hit and right then I needed my mom.  She is comfort, she is safe.  I knelt down and laid my head on her lap not unlike when I was a child.  I didn't know it, but the moment was captured by Jodi.  Words cannot express how much I appreciate her taking that photo (as we have so very precious few from Hannah's birth). 

Do you ever just need your mom?

The surges were getting more and more intense, sometimes to the point of feeling unbearable.  In those moments I closed my eyes and imagined myself in an ocean in which wave after wave came crashing down on me but I stood firm and pushed through each wave thus each surge.  I know I cried out to God, I would look to my positive birth affirmations I had posted throughout the living room and the bathroom.  I am so glad I had the forethought to write these down, because they truly gave me strength and the determination to persevere.  There came a point when I was in such pain that my midwife quietly told me, "Remember your pain cannot be stronger than you because it is you."  Have I mentioned how much I adore this woman?  I took that reminder and told myself that I was strong enough and I was doing this.  After what seemed like forever, I was convinced that there was no progress  because my water STILL hadn't broken.  I consented to an internal exam (my first one with this pregnancy!) to find out that I indeed was fully dilated and effaced and baby just needed to descend.  I need to tell you all how much of a baby I am when it comes to pain.  In the hospital with TJ, I was begging for an epidural and I was barely 4cm dilated.  I was also on a buttload of pit, so I know there is a correlation to the two...HOWEVER...can I just say how incredibly shocked I was that I made it all the way without absolutely breaking down?!  PROUD OF MYSELF!  The hard part was just beginning...

Almost at that moment my body started doing these little pushes, again I was giving myself over to my primal instincts.  I kept telling Sara that I wanted to push but it wasn't an overwhelming urge.  Little pushes to get my baby girl down into the space from which she would emerge, this is what Sara said was going on.  I chalked it up to the wonders of natural childbirth and gave in completely to my instincts.  It was so liberating not to be hooked up to monitors or worry about pulling out an IV line.  I just moved where I needed to and did what I needed to. There is something to be said about giving in to your body and allowing it to go to that primal place, where the outside sounds are drowned out and the body that was created to birth is allowed to do what it needs to do.  I closed my eyes and thought about TJ and how I had allowed so many unnecessary interventions to happen that nearly cost him his life.  I thought of my sweet boy and how I was doing this home birth for him too; a sort of healing for our whole family.  A very strong surge came while I was trying to find a coping position in the pool.  I looked up at my husband, took both of his hands in mine and let his presence calm me.  I remember looking into his eyes and silently pleading that he would understand that I am doing this for us, for our family, for our daughter.  Sometimes I think he can read my mind or that our connection is something out of fiction, because he looked right at me and said quietly, "You ARE doing this."  Those four words gave me such strength, in that moment I could have endured a hundred contractions...maybe not, but you get the point.  I tried to explain to my mom the imagery I created to help me cope with each surge.  I told her I imagined standing on the beach, with both feet in the water.  Each surge is a wave that I must stand against, so as not to be overtaken.  I imagine keeping my feet planted firmly, while the crest comes crashing down around me.  I may shiver, I may close my eyes...but I don't buckle.  It really helped me, and my mom seemed to like hearing about it.

Things get a little blurry for me here, but during one of my trips back from the bathroom I really needed to lay down.  Our ottoman looked perfect and I just wanted.to.sleep.  I couldn't tell you what I did or said, but next thing I knew I was on my right side catching some sleep.  I was sleeping inbetween each surge (which really is a miraculous thing) and everyone started to gather close.  The midwives knew, my husband knew, and my mom and sister knew.  It took me a minute to catch on, I was preoccupied after all.  I had been waiting for what seemed like YEARS for my water to break or something and when I felt an urge to pee I did..right on my couch.  I looked at Jodi and said, "I peed myself again didn't I?"  She gave me a knowing smile and simply said, "Nope!"  By the way, this amazing woman followed me everywhere I labored with a chux pad AND she accompanied me to the bathroom and helped me through some seriously insane moments.  I love Jodi, bottom line.  My water had broken, HALLELUJAH!  We were almost there.  The surges were extremely intense after this, my teeth were chattering, my vocals a little less controlled ( somehow my son slept through this part).  I then felt the need to P-U-S-H.  You know that feeling mamas, that uncontrollable urge that not even the good Lord Himself could stop (not that he would!).  Up until this point, I had Oooo-d and ahhhh-d through each surge; standing firm and working through.  One of my little birth motivators said something to the tune of, "I AM WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR!"  I may be paraphrasing...but I opened my eyes and it hit me like a ton of bricks.  I roared.  Loudly.  Like, someone was murdering me, loud.  Then I heard someone tell me that Hannah was right there.  This baby seriously went from here to there in no time.  I was officially in the delivery stage.  I had had these dreams of peacefully pushing my daughter out and reaching down to grab her onto my chest.  Instead I lifted my right leg, opened my mouth, squeezed my eyes shut, and grunted/roared/yelled that precious girl out.  Pushing a baby out is an oxymoron of extremely painful pleasure.  It hurts like the fire of a thousand suns but in those moments you are connected, on some spiritual level, to every woman who has ever given birth.  There is a pleasure in knowing that you are doing something  that the very first woman on earth had to do in order for you to be here in this moment.  I cannot describe it accurately.  I felt connected to God, my ancestors, the universe, my daughter.  I also felt helpless.  I do remember calling for help, but this was mostly because I was seriously afraid that my clitoris was going to fall off and I just wanted to make sure someone was applying counter pressure.  When Sara told me the ring of fire was coming, it felt more like a ring of ripping.  Still roaring through each push, I heard, "she is right there so close!"  Then I heard, "there is her head...oh her nose..oh her chin...okay now the shoulders!"  I don't remember who was holding my hand I think it was Casi (and bless your heart if it was you!), but I remember finding comfort in those hands.  I also remember thinking in my head, "Please don't let me die."  That thought was directed to my mom and to be honest, it was more because I was so exhausted and not so much from the pain.  This all seemed to happen in a matter of minutes.  Apparently, that thought was said out loud.  *sigh*  Never said I wasn't dramatic.

Tough work.

I had to consult with my midwife on how long I pushed before Hannah was delivered.  Keep in mind, with my son labor was augmented (poorly) and I pushed for 2 hours and 50 minutes.  When you are in the space of birthing, time and reality can become distorted because the body takes over (if allowed) and is focused solely on that synchronized dance with baby, that dance known as birth.   That being said I couldn't tell you how long I pushed, what time it was, who was standing where, and what was going through my mind.  I guessed pushing lasted 30 minutes, and I was being conservative.  After meeting up with the midwife, we looked over my chart and found it was only about 10 minutes or so.  10 minutes.  Do you see what happens when the body is allowed to do what it needs?  Then again when it feels like your clitoris is about to fall off, each second feels like an hour (ha!).  I remember.  I remember the moment I felt her slide out.  Everyone was cheering and saying things like, "she is here Sally!"  One minute she was halfway between worlds, and the next she was in my arms.  She made a small cry while being handed to me, and every single fear I had about her not breathing just dissipated.  I knew my girl was perfect in every way.  Then I noticed her!  She was so small!  All I could think was that her head wasn't nearly as large as her big brothers.  When she was placed in my arms the first thing I did was smell her and she smelled familiar to me, just as TJ had.  Then I just stared at her, because...HELLO!  I just birthed this wonderfully complex beautiful little beauty after spending the past 10 months wondering what she would look like, if she had hair on her head, and what her first cry would sound like.  She was so warm and so pink and all I wanted to do was cuddle her.  The whole world fell away and it was just her and I, wrapped in this intangible cocoon of newness and love. I thanked God.  I prayed.  My soul was transported before the throne of Grace and I had to bless Jesus for allowing this to happen, because there were no complications, because of who HE is, because of my awesome midwife team, because my family was here, just because.   Travis looked at me and said, "Rub her down Sally, help her breathe!"  I stimulated her back and spoke to my newly born daughter and Jodi helped to rub her down as well, getting those little lungs open and full of fresh air.  All this happened in the span of a minute or two but it felt like slow motion to me.  She was wrapped in one of our beach towels; blue and white striped. She started to cry a bit after being stimulated and it was music to my ears.  I took her little towel wrapped body and cuddled her.  All I could think was that I had a daughter!

Cord still attached, I cradled my new daughter against me and just laid there in awe of her.  In awe of myself.  I just had a homebirth; I have accomplished something I was set out to do.  Like I said, I will never look at my couch the same again.  The next few hours were spent bonding amongst the weighing/measuring, cord cutting (which we obviously delayed), attempting to breastfeed, and just be present with this new creature.  I was really excited to breastfeed again, and Hannah had a bit of a latch issue which she corrected herself in a couple of days.  She just needed to open her mouth a bit more, which thankfully she did!  TJ woke up shortly after the birth and he met his baby sister.  I don't know how he slept through the roars, but he did!   He loved on her right away.  It's amazing how he went to bed still my baby and woke up my big boy; like he instantaneously grew. 

I had it written in my birth reminder that I wanted everyone present for her birth, to hold her (after the initial mother/daughter bonding of course!).  It was important for me that she also form a bond with those who were present for her birth.  After all, these people were here helping me through labor and witnessing her emergence.  She was held by all and I watched, with love in my eyes, as my little girl left a piece of herself with each person. 

Nana and Hannah.

Eventually, the pool was broken down and drained, people slowly left our space to get some much needed rest themselves, and I was recuperating and enjoying my new baby.  My midwife and her team graciously made a comfy and cozy space on our couch, where my baby and I shared our first peaceful sleep as two separate beings, instead of one and under the watchful eyes of my mom who stayed with us.

There really is a "birth high" from all the natural oxytocin that flows during labor and birth.  I felt so good, so happy, so incredibly AWESOME.  Even now, as I type this sentence 7 weeks later, I can feel that "birth high" return and it overpowers any negative emotions I may be feeling in the moment.  I believe that a piece of me has been healed and restored.  The experience of this homebirth helped to overcome the traumas of TJ's birth.  Feelings of fear, inadequacy, anger, bitterness, apprehension, and grief all seemed to dissipate.  The fact that I didn't have to follow orders or be restricted was freeing.  I am strong because I followed my instinct and trusted in the body given to me by my Creator.  I am brave because I conquered my own insecurities about my abilities to birth unmedicated.  I am fearless because I did what was best for me and my baby in the face of criticism.  I am mother.

News!

Wow, has it really been that long since I've written a post?  Gosh, I really need to up my ante huh?  Talk about rude amateur blogger behavior.  Seriously though, I have a short but big update for you:  WE ARE HAVING ANOTHER BABY....A GIRL BABY!  She will be born here in the comfort of our own home, into the loving arms of her mama and dada, with the help of two wonderful women whom I have come to know and will know more of in the coming weeks.  Hannah is expected to make her arrival in early August, but this mama suspects the diva to make her appearance early. 

Pretty girl at 20 weeks young!

J & J still come for visits but the big move has been put on hold for unforeseen issues that have arisen; we hope to have something figured out by early fall, please keep them in your prayers. TJ is excited about becoming a big brother, he loves to snuggle the belly and tells me all the time how much he loves his baby.  What could make a moms heart melt more, huh?  Travis is still working hard and though I wish he would or could take it easy, I know it is in him to do more than his fair share and do it without complaint.  God really broke the mold with that man, for sure.

That's about all the update I have for now, I hope to make more time to keep this regularly updated again.  Blogging has always been cathartic for me, and Lord knows I could use some catharsis!  Be blessed all!

~Sally 

Kids, construction, and snow.

So here it is another month without a blog post.  "Is this thing on?"  I just wanted to offer a small update on what has been going on 'round these parts.  We are anxiously awaiting the arrival of our baby, we have been blessed to receive major help on getting the bedroom built in the basement, and we have a tentative timeline for the increase in our household!  

Travis relocated to a different store (same position thank God) and he is enjoying it so much more.  I told him to be prepared for a promotion in the near future, I can feel it in my bones.  Not only is he overly prepared for this position, but I know God is going to reward him for his patience.  TJ's vocabulary and big boy habits have taken off like a rocket!  He has near perfect pronunciation, he is thisclose to being fully potty trained, he blew his nose for the first time yesterday (which is a big deal around here), and he knows how to count to 20.  My kid is so smart and he makes me so proud to be his mama!  He will be 3 this year, and that means looking into preschool.  Be still my beating heart, where has the time gone?  

Our two extra family members continue to visit us and we are introducing them to how we run things in this house.  It has been an adjustment when they are here, but I know it will make things much smoother when we have them full time.  I just ask that you keep our family in your prayers as this is going to be a major change in all our lives and we must overcome.

I am 17 weeks pregnant today, and boy do I feel every bit of it.  My stomach has popped, I feel full after eating the smallest amount, and forget about my normal exercise routine....I have had to tone it down.  I am excited as next week I get to book the appointment that will *hopefully* tell us if we will be buying pink or keep the blue (secretly I really want a girl, but I am happy either way).  I haven't really felt regular movement, but I have felt a few somersaults and punches or kicks at random.  The dog seems to gravitate towards my belly, so maybe he can hear something I can't?  Either that or he is fascinated by the now protruding belly I sport.  

Well, that is about it.  Other than the fact that although I grew up in the stuff and have learned to deal with it....I still don't care for Michigan winter weather.  Give me a balmy 75* every day all year and I will be grateful.  I know God wants us in Michigan for now, but I pray that we get to move to South Carolina once all has been settled and in rightful order here.  Thanks for reading and God bless you all!

~Sally 

All things become new...

Looking back at the various posts from every new year (when I have kept up), it would appear that there has always been some big news or life changing event that has or will be taking place in the new year itself.  2013 will be no exception.  Like most years prior, the Moser household will undergo even more radical changes in the coming months.  Trav and I will be stepping into the world of foster care, in hopes to reach out to our family in need.  For legality sake, I cannot go into detail just yet, but suffice it to say our home will be a bit more cozy.  That said, it is a big leap of faith and trust, as well a huge commitment on our part.  We are excited, scared, nervous, happy, saddened, relieved, but most of all content in our decision.  I've heard it all from various people in the last months, "You sure about this? You two are just amazing people!  How will TJ react? What will this do to your family? How will you financially take care of everyone?"  Most of the feedback was negative at first, and I have to admit it ruffled my feathers but it also gave me the catalyst needed to really dig deep and pray, think, discuss every aspect with Trav so we could be on the same page.  In the end it was simple, we do what needs to be done for those we call family.  Family doesn't just consist of those we share biological traits with; family are the people we hold close to our hearts. 

In addition to that news, we will also be adding to our family in a very different way!  I am very pleased to say that there will be another little Moser come the end of the summer.  Yup, in the midst of all we are going through, God gave us one more blessing to fill our basket.  At first I was scared, how could we possibly feed 6 mouths on our modest income?  Why now?  How we will arrange our already filled to capacity house?  How will the kids react?  Then I got really excited, because I thought it wouldn't happen again.  We'd been trying for another and it just wasn't happening...again.  Being thankful and grateful for my son, I was beginning to resign myself to the fact that we would add to our family using various avenues other than birth.  Imagine my utter shock when I took that test and BROKE it!  Many people are confused by this term.  To put it simply, the test line (the line that either pops up or doesn't) was so dark that the control line (the line that always pops up) was barely visible.  First trimester scan complete, bloodwork complete, and midwife hired.  We anxiously await the arrival of this baby.  

We are also going to formally purchase our home with a conventional loan instead of the land contract we have now, so this is another big step we are taking.  We are hopeful that the VA home loan program will prove to be beneficial to us in this process, as we get perks for Trav being a Veteran.  

As you can see, life is changing again in a big way.  I am so excited about what 2013 has to offer.  I give God the glory, honor, and praise for providing even in my darkest times....and I've gone through some very dark times in the last couple of years.  I cannot post this without saying what a mighty God we serve.  I've been mocked, tormented, teased, ridiculed, and cast aside as a brainwashed religious zealot for my belief in God, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost.  I have to praise HIM though, because Lord knows I have given in to temptations too numerous to name and yet I still find Him there when I cry out His name.  I am continually growing in my walk with Christ, in my spirit I feel an expansion of growth.  I am not who the world says I am, I am who God says I am.  Beloved, blessed, highly favored, loved, forgiven, FREE.  I am not religious.  I don't practice rituals in hopes for a good reward.  I don't parade around pretending to be some high and mighty person above all that is below me.  I have a relationship with God because I need him.  I pray because I know he hears me; my son is proof that God answers prayer.  I do good things because I want others to see the Jesus in me, to know that HE is real.  I know that my righteousness is as filthy rags before him and that until that day when all is made perfect, it always will be.  I am merely a sinner who fell down, and got up. 


I hope 2013 is everything you desire it to be!

~Sally 
 

Candid Update

Since my last post, our family has endured even more changes and I find myself struggling to be at peace with the situation.  We will be fostering two of our family members in the coming months.  I cannot tell you how much it breaks my heart all the things these kids have had to endure.  When I think about everything they have gone through, I get angry.  I get angry because they were never allowed to be the kids they should have been, I get angry because innocence has been ripped away from them, I get angry because the one person who should have protected them, failed them instead.  I had a job that I was really good at and I was very happy there.  I have made the decision to leave my job so I can take care of the children that will soon be in our home.  Money will once again be tight, but I know that I am doing the right thing for these kids.  I only pray to God above that HE will make a way when there seems to be no way, and I know HE will.  I miss my job, I've been gone for nearly a week and I miss it.  Granted, it wasn't always the greatest job in the world, but it was something I was good at and helping other people is important to me.  I struggled for awhile in deciding whether or not to leave (as it turns out, I would have lost my job anyway from taking too many days off). These kids are going to need a lot of attention, a lot of gentle discipline, and a lot of help in learning to cope with things that have gone in their short lives.  TJ is ecstatic because he is going to have constant playmates who love him immensely as he does them.  T and I are very happy to open our home to them, we feel this is where they belong.  We have such a long way to go before our home will be ready.  A room to build, walls/ceilings to paint, beds to get, windows to install, and our Foster Care license.  Times are going to be tuff, but I don't believe it will last forever.  We can nix the unnecessary things, which means this may be the last blog I post from home for awhile.  Things haven't been working out at T's job, and I have felt it necessary to step in and try to be his advocate.  How are you going to put someone in a position, promise them the job is theirs, just to give that title to someone else....who knows NOTHING about the industry?  God will work something out, He has to...He promised us He would.  We have had more life changing news, but I am not ready to talk about it yet.  Please keep us in your prayers, we could really use all the help we can get. 

Thanks and God Bless.

~Sally

Here or there?

The process of moving on from the major changes in our life has been a rough one, but I am happy to say that our family is adjusting well (adding a dog into our crazy little family has definitely helped!) and we don't wish for our past life every day like we used to.  I can't really speak for T, but I know he misses the Army.  I miss being able to stay at home with my son and I miss being a part of something.  I think that is what I struggle with the most, although not as much.  Some days I am very thankful that T is out of the Army, because he does get to be with TJ and I and I know he is safe because I know where he is.  Other days, like today, I feel like I don't fit anywhere...not an "army wife" but not really a civilian?  It is very difficult to describe, I am certain I am not the only one that has experienced this feeling.  I don't dwell on these feelings, because they only make me sad and want to be where my sisters are.  I try to press forward and look for the blessings in my life, and there are many.  We have a beautiful home, we are both working and we are able to keep up on our bills, TJ is in a great daycare and loves to be around his cousins.  I remind myself that God does everything for our benefit, even it is all jumbled and very frustrating.  I am so glad these sad days are becoming few and far between.  I texted one of my sisters today that I missed her bunches, I miss all my sisters bunches.  I wonder how they are doing, how their children are doing, if their husbands are safe.  We all keep in touch and I am so thankful for email and facebook, where would I be without it?  One of the worst parts for me?  Knowing that we won't be moving in 2 years...I know it sounds crazy, but we have moved every 2-3 years since 2006 and I find that there are still unpacked boxes and I wonder if subconsciously I didn't unpack them "just in case."  Don't get me wrong, I am not upset or anything and I am very happy where we are..I am just having one of those days ya know?  This too shall pass.  :)


God bless ya!
Sally

Dear God, 

I need to understand.  I need to know why you have brought these two little angels into my heart over the past few days and why can I not keep them from my mind?  Are you trying to tell me something?  Am I not spending enough time with my own son?  Am I being too greedy by wanting another child?  Am I about to go through something really awesome or totally crappy?  Why have you brought little Ronan and Ty into my heart?  I've never met them or heard of them until a few days ago and now I cannot get their stories out of my mind and my heart breaks for their mommies.  Why do children get cancer and die?  I know God, I KNOW by the stripes of Jesus we are healed...but why do such beautiful children have to suffer through a hell on earth such as cancer?  Your word says that children belong to the kingdom of Heaven; does this mean they are on loan?  I am a moderately educated 31 year old woman with a young son, whom I prayed for harder than anything I can remember, yet I feel like a child because I want to know why you allow children to get cancer?  Why isn't there a cure?  Why does pediatric cancer not get the attention it deserves?  Why did Ronan and his absolutely beautiful blue eyes get eaten alive by this horrible disease?  Why do Ty's mom and dad have to by that white suit for "you know what?"  My heart is hurting, my faith is shaking and these children aren't even mine.  I have come to realize that maybe YOU are telling me that I need to pay better attention and be kinder to my own son, well God...I am listening.  I want to blog about my son, write songs about my son, play with my son, make cheesey videos about the cool things he does because he is ALIVE...but part of me is breaking for all these mommies who do these things while wearing a piece of their children in a locket around their neck.  How sad.  Back to the question at hand; why have you brought these stories into my life?  What lesson am I to learn? Am I learning it, have I learned it?  Touch these families Lord, they need you.  All of them need your peace and love, even if they are mad at you for their babies being taken away by cancer.  Love them.  Help me to help them.  I don't know how.  I have the Unseen Heroes project I am working on and now this?  Help me God, I am really in desperate need.  What do I do?  In loving memory of all children who have lost their battle with cancer and to the ones who have and are making it through. GO FOR THE GOLD! 
~Me

TJ

Cinnamon brown eyes, chubby feet with the cutest toes, beautiful honey colored hair with a slight curl, and a smile that could melt the heart of even the coldest of men.  My son is the most amazing little guy to ever waltz into my life.  I am so enamored with him and some days it hits me all over again that he is mine and I never have to give him back.  I thank God for him every single day.  TJ has grown up so much these last few months and I find myself telling him to slow down, but I don't think he understands the true meaning behind those words.  Life has gotten better for us as a family, but we are not without our struggles as many aren't.  God is keeping us, whether we realize it or not, and I could not be more thankful for that.  TJ has recently hit that stage where he repeats nearly everything he hears, sometimes he repeats the silliest phrases from a cartoon or a passing conversation he hears.  He heard his Nana talking about Chelsea and he ran around the house saying, "Chelsea Chelsea!"  He also loves to point out random things he sees or hears and call them by name.  We were at the store earlier today and he saw a woman pushing her own shopping cart.  TJ pointed right at her and said, "Shopping!"  Made me chuckle.  Shortly after that he pointed to two people who were carrying around a trademark coffee cup and said, "Mama, coffee!  Coffee, Mama!"  He then asked me, in that special way that only toddlers can, if he could have coffee.  sigh  Who couldn't love an innocent little guy like mine?  I realize pointing is rude and we are working on that, but he is only 2 and it is in his nature.  Is my child unique in his abilities or milestones?  Nope, but he is mine and everything he does or says just blows my mind.  I am so blessed to have him, he is by far my greatest accomplishment and worth every bit of pain it took to have him.

Showing off the baby carrot from the garden!

Who got a J-O-B? Yeah, you know me!!

I GOT A JOB!!!!!!  I know that some of you probably think, "yeah so?  Lots of people have jobs."  If you only knew how we were struggling because of the lack of finances.  By the Grace of our sweet God we were able to keep paying our bills and tithes, but I knew I needed to find employment and I have been looking and praying for a job for a long while now.  This means that we can keep up on our bills, increase our tithes, and build up our savings again!  PRAISE HIM! I was struggling with God though, wondering if He was going to come through...and just when I felt like I was on my last bit of hope and faith, BAM! He came through for us.  I have to pass a 9 week training course but I know I can do it, because I believe in myself and I believe I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.  I am just so happy and my shoulders feel so much lighter without all the stress.  I hope this will eliminate the migraines as well and the sleeplessness.  Well, it was a short post but to the point!  Be blessed and please remember (from my circumstances) that God really does come through in His own time, as long as you believe and have faith..even in the smallest measure.

Love and Blessings,


Sal

Negative Nancy

Recently I had taken a few hours out of my life to contemplate my moods and my attitudes towards all the chaos that seems to have thrown itself our way lately and ask God to show me where all this was coming from and how I can change.  For the most part, I have accepted that our lives have taken a completely different path than we ever had planned and that there is absolutely no going back...unless I get a wild hair and join the Navy (which, I have been told, I shouldn't count out yet).  Anyway, during this little bit of soul searching I discovered that I have been extremely negative in my responses and outward emotions lately and my attitude has not been on par.  Granted, we've been thrown some major curve balls lately and let's face it, my batting average was never anything to brag about...but then I started to notice those around me were acting differently towards me.  This got me thinking about my negativity and how I may be coming across to others.  This was a major reality check for me; I am typically a pretty happy and nice person...who was this negative nancy that appeared out of nowhere?  The stress between finances, employment, Travis' DoD and VA stuff, worried about what the future holds, and every day life for us...it was beginning to be too much for me to handle.  Then I realized, why would anyone want to speak to me or be around me if all I am going to do is bring them down?  I don't want to be a taker!  I want to be a giver!  As much as I speak with others about faith and trusting God, I came to realize that I was doing just the opposite.  I was trying to handle everything on my own and it was wearing down on me.  I sing about faith and love and trusting God, but I wasn't listening to the words coming out of my mouth.  I read my Bible, but I wasn't studying the verses and how they applied to me and my life.  I was going through the motions, saying I will trust in God to provide, but not really handing my problems over.  

When the realization of what I had been doing to myself struck, I made a conscious decision to remove the sadness and negativity from my life.  I prayed about it; I actually had to force the words out of my mouth...something that really made things real for me.  I had to say out loud that sadness/anger/worry/doubt/negativity had to go, leave, flee, depart from me!  God told me I needed to trust Him or nothing was going to work out for anyone's good.  What a wake up call!!  I don't want the lives of others affected by my lack of ACTING faith in God; I have a husband and son to think about.  At that moment, I chose to give it all to God.  The migraines, the increasing pain of the fibromyalgia, the sadness, the anger, the worry, the doubt...it was time for them to go.  I stood in the shower (which is one of the only places I get to myself and therefore my go-to prayer closet) and I closed my eyes and pictured a grand throne room with Jesus standing there with His arms outstretched towards me.  I envisioned myself carrying baskets and being weighed down by chains.  I said, "Here Lord, I cannot do this any longer.  Please take these burdens away from me."  I dumped the baskets, full of all the negative emotions and thoughts, all the worried about money and finances...and I put them at His feet.  I tell you, I felt His arms wrap around me and I wept.  Have I mentioned that crying in the shower is an odd experience?  You don't know if you're feeling your tears or the drops from the shower, weird I know.  At that moment, I felt peace.  Peace that surpasses all understanding and logic.  I am not worried about things any longer.  I am not sad or angry or negative.  I am aware of the issues we still face, but I feel like my belief is restored and my faith is increasing.  I know people are praying for our family and that means so much to me.

I also wanted to apologize to everyone who has had to endure my negativity recently and ask your forgiveness.  I know it sounds corny and strange, but when I was shown just how negative I had become...I would have demanded an apology from myself.  That said, I am feeling happier and much lighter in my spirit.  Hope you all realize that no matter how bad things are around you that God always has your back.  There is a song I LOVE that says, "He may not come when you want Him, but He'll be there right on time.  He's an on time God.  Yes He is!"  God bless you all!

~Sally

The Birth of TJ GRAPHIC NON-SUGAR COATED VERSION.

Laboring on the ball.

Two years.  Two years and I can look at all the pictures and speak about it without having heart palpitations and feeling the utter fear and terror grip my very soul.  I am talking about the birth of my son, TJ.  I have spoken about this subject before, albeit briefly.  We very nearly lost our son when he was born due to "respiratory distress" as was deemed in the medical records...it should have read "due to an overdose of medication and too many unnecessary interventions and stresses on the mother."  Throughout the delivery I was on pins and needles because I was losing control of the situation and I was allowing fear to take over my emotions.  I had read every book on this subject, I had prepared a playlist to labor to, I had a great support system in place, but it did not prepare me.  The day started out with a "hollywood gush" of my waters breaking at home, where I called the hospital and told them I would be laboring at home because I didn't want to be forced to lie down and be refused food or drink.  I labored at home for a few hours and when the contractions really started to become closer together and regular, I told T it was time to go!  I had a very precise birth plan (which I realize now means diddly squat in the hospital, particularly a military hospital) and I was very clear that I didn't want to be hooked up to anything.  They were accommodating at first, allowing me to labor on the birthing ball and receive monitoring with the wireless tocometer.  It was shortly after a nurse came in telling me they weren't getting accurate readings and that I needed to be checked again, that my body started to stop labor.  I should have stood up for myself and refused to be bedded down.  I should have, but hindsight is 20/20 right?  After that, things got worse.  The pressure for pitocin was on because of "failure to progress."  I know now that this is a common phrase that is used when a woman isn't dilating one centimeter per hour (who says that's the standard anyway?).  This is where things are a bit foggy for me, and I want you to experience what was going through my mind at the time, so please bear with me.  I was given the wrong dosage of one medication and far too much of another (later reports confirmed this).  Things kept beeping at random intervals, alarms screaming at the nurses for one thing or another....and all I could think about was how this was not how I wanted it to go.  I looked at my husband, and I could see in his eyes that he was scared.  I remember being very mad, but not allowing myself to express that emotion because I didn't want to hurt anyone feelings.   I remember feeling smothered by the staff, asking me questions that I knew if they just looked at my birth plan or asked my husband or doulas, they would have the answer.  The epidural was put into place after some nurse had the bright idea to turn me on my left side (even though I could FEEL that something wasn't right and it was extremely painful) and I couldn't take the constant contractions anymore.  At this point I conceded to the epidural, in hopes of relief from the staff and to just be able to get a moment to regroup my mind and the pain was nearly unbearable (my boy was sunny side up).  Needless to say the epi didn't last but 20 minutes and it was a bit of a job getting it into place as my contractions at this point were nearly on top of one another.  A second epidural (in addition to the first one) numbed my entire body from my armpits to my toes...all except for a band about 6 inches wide that included, you got it, my lady bits.  The one place a woman wants relief in labor and I didn't get it.  God wanted to me to experience the pain, no matter what. This is what I had wanted originally, so who was I to complain?  The rest is really a blur of being told to breathe, coaching from my husband and doulas, getting checked by the nurses, the alarms ringing, and the stupid blood pressure cuff that served to only raise my blood pressure.  I knew when I was going through transition because I could feel my son descending into the birth canal.  I felt him squirming and rotating, attempting to correct his position.  I knew the moment I was ready to push because the urge to bear down and push was irresistable.  Having the feeling "down there" that I did, I felt my body start to bear down on its own.  I voiced this concern and was told it was too early.  All I could think to myself was, "if I know when to poop by myself...shouldn't my body know how to push out a baby?"  After a bit of back and forth with the staff, who insisted I was not fully effaced or dilated, a much older nurse came in and took one look at me and told me if I needed to push, then push!  I don't think I have ever been happier.  I asked for the mirror and then the pain really started.  Being tired, stressed, hungry, thirsty, sad, angry, and just plain scared...at this point I was freaking out at every contraction because the monitors were indicating that TJ wasn't handling them very well.  After pushing for nearly 2 hours, I decided that I was taking control and I had had enough of everyone telling me to breathe and to keep calm.  I said a prayer of thanks and for help, looked into that mirror and saw the crown of my sons head.  I don't know how I did it, but I lifted my butt and my hips off that bed and pushed until I saw stars.  FINALLY!  I was hearing positive words of encouragement and it was so great!  Until the catheter that had been placed, somehow hindered my pushing and it had to be moved...not a pleasant feeling I can assure you.  A nurse who had been one of the biggest supporters for me assisted me in my pushing my stretching out my perineum and even though it hurt it was very effective.  I was willing to do what it took to get this baby out.  Cue the doctor and I was pushing and pushing, feeling like it would never end.  I kept my gaze on that mirror and I could see his head, but something wasn't right.  He was an odd color, not the typical pinkish/grey that you see in newborn babies.  In that moment I knew I had to push him out because there was something off.  I lifted my hips and butt one good time and pushed with all my might.  After two hours and fifty minutes of pushing he was born!  He had a nuchal cord, stretched tight.  They immediately placed him on my belly and I knew to rub him, stimulate him.  I think my brain knew before my body because even before the staff realized something was wrong, I remember rubbing him down and saying, "come on baby, breathe for mama."  After about 30 seconds of nothing, he was ripped from my arms and before I could blink the room was filled with every available neonatalogist and  nurse and they were bagging him.  He was a sickly blueish/grey color and was not moving or breathing.  At this time the doctor attempted to pull the placenta out, instead of just letting me birth it, and was literally elbows deep in my uterus.  She pulled the cord and it detached from the placenta.  Medical records called it "medial cord attachement" or "marginal cord insertion" which basically means there was a weak connection between the two.  I would find out all this cord stuff after the fact.  I watched, with baited breath, as it took a team of nurses and doctors two minutes...TWO MINUTES to resuscitate him with that little blue bag.  I would soon find out that the only indication he lived was his somewhat low heart rate.  As I am laying on that bed, completely helpless and witnessing my small just-born son struggle for his life....all I can do is pray.  Every prayer I have ever uttered in my entire existence doesn't even begin to compare to the prayers I sent up to God above.  In those two minutes I was both angered with and in awe of God.  I remember saying, "Don't you dare bring us this far just to take our son.  I am NOT leaving here without my son healthy."  Almost immediately followed by, "I love you Lord, only You can help him now."  I briefly glanced at my husband, who was standing by my son, and my best friend and doula, who was standing right beside me...holding my hand.  I don't think I have ever seen two people look more afraid in my life.  You know how people say life flashes before your eyes just before you're about to die?  Well, I had every single scenario, good and bad, play out in my mind in what must have been mere seconds.  How will we bring him home to be buried?  I wonder what he will look like sleeping in his crib at home?  How long will they let me hold him until they take him away for good?  He looks just like his daddy, I cannot wait to show him off.  As you can see, my mind went in about a million different directions at once.  All the while I am praying out loud to God and I don't care if I offend anyone with my prayers at this point.  All I know is that my son needed to breathe and he needed to live.  It seemed to take forever and no sooner did I say my AMEN...did I hear the most ear piercing, ticked off, where-is-my-momma cry I had ever heard.  I could feel the blood returning to my face and I know I praised Jesus out loud.

He wasn't moving or grimacing, the look on my face says it all.

 J had smiled and said, "he's okay Sal, he's okay."  Next thing I know this little bundle is being handed to me and before my mind could register what was happening, I was giving a pseudo-hug to my son (the nurse did not fully let him go) and the first thing I did was smell him.  He smelled so good to me, and I remember a strange feeling of familiarity at his scent and his touch.  I kissed him and hugged him and told him I loved him.  Just as soon as he was put by me, they took him away to the NICU.  The doctor had told me it would be only 15 minutes or so, just for observation and what not.  Again, I should have known better than to believe that.  15 minutes would turn into 15 hours...and 5 hours before I would actually hold my baby without the aid of someone else.  I remember looking at T and telling him to follow them to the NICU and stand beside TJ so he would know that at least one of his parents could be there.  I still could not walk at that point, so I was bed ridden.  Also, my uterus was not contracting the way it should have, so I had to stay lying down longer and endure those very painful pushes on my uterus from the nurses.  It killed me, ripped out my heart, that I could not follow my son into the NICU.  I was told to get some sleep and word of my son would be sent shortly.  Needless to say, the 15 minutes had already come and gone.  Both of my doulas were exhausted and emotionally drained after the entire ordeal...and after making sure I was okay, they went on ahead home.  I was by myself in a birthing room, a bloody mess, missing my baby whom I didn't even really get to hold.  TJ was born at 2:50AM on a Thursday, one week before his due date.  He was 7lbs 15oz and 20.1" long.  His APGAR scores were 2 and 5, most babies score a 9 on average.  A little back history on me:  I had a baby brother who was born prematurely and lived in the NICU for 6 months, until he passed away from respiratory distress.  I was 8 years old when this happened.  For years I could not look at another baby without seeing my dead brother and I had nightmares constantly.  Death to an 8 year old, is a touchy subject and should be treaded upon lightly...not thrown in the childs face...trust me.  I remember visits to my brother in the NICU; hooked up to wires and constant beeping alarms and nurses ushering us around.  I thought I had gotten over that unfortunate incident all those years ago.  Walking into the NICU and seeing my brand new little baby (albeit big for being in the NICU with the preemies) brought me back to that horrible place and I felt my knees buckling under my weight.  All I could see was the sweet face of my angel, who had already struggled in this life, hooked up to wires and monitors and there wasn't anything I could do to bring him comfort.  The midwife, who I had seen my entire pregnancy, was also in there.  She didn't even say anything, she just opened her arms to me and I let it all out.  All she said was, "he is okay, he is going to be okay."  I saw my husband standing there looking at TJ and I smiled at him.  I knew he was worried about me to, but I had told him to stay with TJ.  We stood over the isolette, locked in an embrace...staring at our son and just so thankful that he was alive.  TJ would be in there until much later that evening.  Doctors were worried he wouldn't latch on, but I knew my bubba and he nursed like a champ, impressing even the lactation consultant who said I handled it like a pro.  My son has amazed people every single day since his birth.  He is so smart, and I don't say that just to dote on him....the kid can count backwards.  He listens so well; we get compliments all the time on how well behaved he is.  We just say thank you and giggle to ourselves because we know what kind of tantrums he is capable of.  He has overcome sickness after sickness, he loves people, and he already has a big heart and lots of love to share.  Shortly after TJ was born, I started to become very protective of him, overly so.  I was very cautious about people holding him (so much so, that someone called me on it once), I would check on him every 10 minutes that he wasn't in my arms and I became obsessed with his breathing.  I had a really hard time talking about his birth because my mind would shut down and all I could do was cry and that fear would grip me all over again.  I got tired of reliving it, so I quit talking about it.  After recognizing the symptoms and a year of denial, I came to terms with the fact that I had been suffering from PPD and perhaps a touch of emotional trauma, following his birth.  I was talking with Jen about my concerns one day, and she suggested getting copies of the medical records just to help put things in order.  I also spoke with Sarah, our other doula who has since become a part of our family through TJ's birth experience, and she asked me something that I had never considered.  "Do you think most of the problems could have stemmed from too much intervention?"  At that point I had only toyed with the idea.  It wasn't until I had done some research that I knew, in my heart, that some of what had happened was indeed preventable.  It makes me sad that things could have ended differently, but at the same time I am thankful that everything worked out the way it did because I will be better prepared in the future births of our children and I appreciate my little boy that much more.

As I said at the beginning, it has taken me this long to be able to speak about the events leading up to and following the birth of my son.  I was afraid when I started writing this, that I would have to stop and take a break or get a migraine from the stress...but it didn't happen.  This is one more step in the healing process for me.  I know someone will read this and think I overreacted in the situation, because I have heard it before.  "At least he is alive!  At least he didn't stay in the NICU for weeks..at least he wasn't deformed."  Yes, I have heard all these things.  Yes, TJ is alive...but that doesn't negate the sheer terror I felt when he wasn't breathing and was limp as a noodle at birth.  No, he didn't stay in the NICU for weeks, but any time a baby has to spend in the NICU is heart wrenching for the parents.  I do have several friends who have had babies stay for weeks in the NICU for one or another, and they have my complete adoration and admiration because somehow, they made it through.  My son was blessed not to suffer any type of neurological issues from his not breathing, all I can attest that to is God Himself.  You don't know how a situation will affect you, until you are in the thick of it.  You can say that you will act one way or believe a certain way, but when the rubber meets the road you really don't know.  Any parent who has had to stand by helplessly and watch their child suffer, will tell you it is the worst feeling in the world.  I am very well aware that I could have lost my son and I do not ever forget that.  I am thankful that God gave the doctors and nurses wisdom to save his life.  I am also thankful for those present at his birth; what would I have done without you?  Jen and Sarah, you two made a horrific situation so much easier to bear...just because you were there with me.  Forever, I love you both forever.  Travis, my brave husband...I could not have asked for a better husband or father to our children.  You are such a great daddy and everything you did that day was right.  I love you always.  To the doctors and nurses, I wish you would have listened to me and respected my wants.  I wish you could have let my body do what it was designed to do, instead of pumping me full of drugs to make me run on "your time."  However, I thank you that you had the knowledge and desire to save my sons life.  To me, that means everything. 

I WANT MY MOMMY!

It has taken me this long to be able to speak about it, without my mind going back to that terrible place, where I can hear the beeps, I can hear the doctors trying to make my son breathe, I can see the sheer terror on the face of both my doulas ( I remember one of them walking out)...my body doesn't react anymore either with the rush of adrenaline that makes my head hurt and my entire body ache, I don't feel an overwhelming urge to run to my son to make sure he is still breathing even if I can see him playing.  I can speak about it without crying, I am at peace with our birth experience.  I am just go glad that I can finally let go and God have this situation.  Thanks for reading!

God Bless,

Sally

Thankful.

How could you not be thankful for a smile like that?

Truly amazing people.

My big sister.

I love these two women.

My mommy.

My baby when he was in the hospital in Garmisch.

Home for R&R.

Thankful for promotions.

Thankful for a sister who likes spontaneous roadtrips!

I don't really have anything of importance to say tonight, other than I am just thankful.  I am thankful for my husband and my son.  I am thankful for our church family and church Pastor; what a blessing.  I am thankful for salvation.  I am thankful that I am finally realizing that it is OKAY to disagree with people you love.  I am thankful that I am learning new things and growing in Christ, because who really wants to be stuck in the same place forever?  I am thankful for parents who choose to step outside the box and aren't afraid to show it.  I am thankful that I can be humble yet bold in matters of my beliefs.  I am thankful that I don't have to please every person in my life, because that is just too much work (and heartache).  I am thankful for the horrible things that I have experienced in my life, because I can appreciate how good I have it now.  I am thankful that my husband served in U.S. Army because it allowed us to grow in so many areas of our lives and meet so many wonderful people whom we now consider family.  Speaking of which, I am thankful for my military sisters because only they will understand that even years after his service has ended, I will still hesitate a bit when I hear a knock on the front door.   I am thankful for my parents and my grandparents, because they have given me history lessons that no classroom will ever hold a candle to.
  I am thankful that I had the opportunity to live in a vastly different culture because I can now see how truly "free" we are in this country and I can make better decisions for my family because of that knowledge.  I am thankful I use cloth diapers because even if the laundry is one load heavier, we have saved a lot of money.  I am thankful for the home we have because it is ours and it is special, even if some people think it's too small.  I am thankful for our dog because he is teaching me loyalty.  I am thankful for facebook because I can chat with people thousands or  hundreds of miles away, in an instant.  I am thankful for caring and compassionate medical professionals because they make me want to help others.  I am thankful that I have food to eat, because I have seen what starvation does to a person.  I am thankful for death, because it makes me appreciate life all the more.  Most of all?  I am thankful that I have forgiveness and salvation in the Lord...because none of the above would matter at all without it.  What about you, what are you thankful for? 

Triglycerides, LDL, and HDL...oh MY!

The word is in, or rather the lab results are in.  Seems my blood work up was fairly normal, oh you know except for the lipid panel.  This was the fact sheet I was dreading and my dread was indeed justified.  I have what is known as borderline high cholesterol and very high triglycerides.  This was not a surprise to me actually, but it would have been nice to see my change in eating and exercise regiment yield better results, but I digress.  I still have to face my doctor, who I just know will shake her perfectly manicured finger in my face and say something along the lines of, "See?  I told you that you were extremely unhealthy and you need to lose weight because the blood work up proves it.  Now here are some more pills, call me in two months."  Not really, I hope she doesn't say that to me, because I will most likely walk right out of there and take those darn triglycerides with me.  The LDL cholesterol is very low and now I need to work on raising it.  Looks like it even fewer carbs for me *sigh* but I have to do what I must because, after all, I want to be here for my children and their children.  It is just so discouraging to get numbers like these even with all the cardio and light weight training I've been doing.  Times like this I just feel like it's not worth it, so why bother?  Does anyone actually enjoy sweating their butt off doing hard cardio?  Does anyone actually enjoy counting reps and sets when weight training? Because I do not.  I get bored and that's a big reason I quit body building.  Sure, my body was being sculpted and I was eating all the stupid shakes and other crap they gave me...but I got so bored with it all.  I practically lived at the gym and after a while just quit going.  So here I am sweating my buns off and doing all this walking and not eating or drinking what I REALLY want to, and I still feel like a failure.  *sigh*  God are you there?  It's me, Sally.  I really need you to perform a miracle and give me motivation to do even more workouts and eat even less yummy food.  No, I really don't want to, but I do want to be healthy.  I'm not asking to be skinny or a smaller size, just help my body's insides function normally and my blood work be perfect.  Thanks for giving me life and I want you to know, God, that I am doing this so I can give You the glory.  It won't be of my doing, oh no, I really want to eat those donuts and all those yummy fries and drink all the coke I possibly can....but I want to do this for YOU.  Thanks God, I love you.  ~Amen