...when you have a three year old and a 7 week old...
Can you believe it! She is 7 weeks old already! This time around things seem to be moving faster, but I am still trying to be in the moment...even though most of my moments find me very tired, feeling like I had just run a triathlon twice, then came home, vacuumed the entire house and mowed .49 acres.
Some days are better than others. It is great when The Older learns a lesson - like why we do not climb the counters to get at candy on top of the fridge... and it is particularly fantastic when both The Older and The Younger take a nap at the same time and I do as well!! So far this has happened once - very memorable though!
I did finally join Facebook - the link is on the right side of this page I think - and spend most of my time there...taking quizzes, commenting on other people's comments, connecting with people I thought were lost to the cosmos... It also is easier to use than MySpace...and less cluttered.
After not having my Mom to help with The Older this week - she was on a much needed vacation to VA and DC area and my MIL did watch her a bunch (Thanks, Star!!) - I am considering VPK (Voluntary Pre-K) but probably won't because I have very little faith in the local area school system... my husband and I did decide - even before we got married - that we would homeschool our kids... but maybe our little adrenaline junkie needs to play with her own age for a bit until The Younger gets bigger and I can do more than just nurse her, burp her, change her, nurse her again, put her to sleep and play with The Older until The Younger wakes up and I have to do all that again!
I'm tired...zzzzzzz.........
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
To all Mothers...
"Just the other night my husband and I were out at a party. We'd been
there for about three hours and I was ready to leave. I noticed he
was talking to a friend from work. So I walked over, and when there
was a break in the conversation, I whispered, "I'm ready to go when
you are." He just kept right on talking. That's when I started to
put all the pieces together. I don't think he can see me. I don't
think anyone can see me. I'm invisible.
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response,
the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the
phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't
you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not! No one can see if I'm on
the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my
head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix
this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair
of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time
is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney
Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the
eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude
-but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be
seen again. She's going she's going she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return
of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a
fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed
in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put
together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for
myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only
thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in
a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter
in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with
a beautifully wrapped package and said, "I brought you this."
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly
sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To
Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building
when no one sees."
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would
discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after
which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great
cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave
their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made
great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their
building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit
the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving
a tiny bird on the inside of a beam! He was puzzled and asked the
man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam
that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And
the workman replied, "Because God sees."
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It
was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you,
Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one
around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've
sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and
smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see
right now what it will become."
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a
disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of
my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn
pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great
builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will
never see finished, to work on something that their name will never
be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no
cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so
few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend
he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at
4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a
turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.” That
would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want
him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say
to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if
we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the
world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty
that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women."
there for about three hours and I was ready to leave. I noticed he
was talking to a friend from work. So I walked over, and when there
was a break in the conversation, I whispered, "I'm ready to go when
you are." He just kept right on talking. That's when I started to
put all the pieces together. I don't think he can see me. I don't
think anyone can see me. I'm invisible.
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response,
the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the
phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't
you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not! No one can see if I'm on
the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my
head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix
this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair
of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time
is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney
Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the
eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude
-but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be
seen again. She's going she's going she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return
of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a
fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed
in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put
together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for
myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only
thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in
a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter
in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with
a beautifully wrapped package and said, "I brought you this."
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly
sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To
Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building
when no one sees."
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would
discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after
which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great
cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave
their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made
great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their
building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit
the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving
a tiny bird on the inside of a beam! He was puzzled and asked the
man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam
that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And
the workman replied, "Because God sees."
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It
was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you,
Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one
around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've
sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and
smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see
right now what it will become."
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a
disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of
my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn
pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great
builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will
never see finished, to work on something that their name will never
be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no
cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so
few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend
he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at
4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a
turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.” That
would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want
him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say
to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if
we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the
world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty
that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women."
Monday, March 30, 2009
And now...your 2nd moment of Zen:
"Life is something to do when you can't get to sleep."
~Fran Lebowitz
~Fran Lebowitz
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
About Face...
I am finally in Facebook much to the delight of my husband and his family. Yes, I must admit, it is better than MySpace (which I am also in...) for many reasons.
AND! my one month old weighed in at 12 pounds yesterday at Chiropractic!!!
AND I finally am going through some pictures of the new baby and posting the good ones on the internet.
AND! my one month old weighed in at 12 pounds yesterday at Chiropractic!!!
AND I finally am going through some pictures of the new baby and posting the good ones on the internet.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
The Birth of Daciana
I awoke just before 4 am on Wednesday, February 25, 2009. I had to pee, just like every other night for the past few months. As I was on the toilet, I had a hard contraction. It was noticeably different than those I had been having for 2 1/2 weeks before - that wonderful prodromal or early labor. It felt really like a bad menstrual cramp. I made it back to bed and had a few more hard contractions. I sat on the edge of our bed, rocking through the next few, my husband Patrick and our daughter Anastasia both fast asleep. The contractions lasted about a half an hour and did not go away. I nudged Patrick, told him to wake up, and that I have been having contractions. I got into the shower (probably the last one for a while :) and stood there, contractions continuing. The hot water felt good. At one point, I needed to be on my hands and knees. That's when I plugged the tub and let it fill with water. Contractions where getting stronger. "Patrick, call my Mom and call Amy (midwife)." I think this was the last thing I remember saying. I stayed in the bath for a while until the water got cold. I wanted to get to the bed - made it as far as the toilet. Patrick knelt in front of me, he counted through the contractions for me... "it's been 30 seconds, you are doing awesome..."
I think this is when I slipped into the zone, or as I teach in my BIRTH classes, the Ebb & Flow of Labor™. It was awesome! I had my eyes closed and let labor happen. Each one quickly rolled into the next, not sure when one ended but knew that another one had begun. I was preparing myself for a long and hard day of labor, thinking that the contractions were going to get stronger, more intense, and also thinking, "Don't I get a few minute break between them??"
I only opened my eyes if I needed to see where I was going - from the bathroom to the bed. I caught glimpses of who was there at different times: Patrick, my Mom, Amy and Erica, Terri R, my doula...
Anastasia was in our bed, where she had slept the night before. I made it to Anastasia's bed - which is next to ours - while someone put plastic on our bed (I had the birth bed prepared for about 2 weeks but got annoyed by the plastic and removed it 2 days before...). By this time I was moaning loudly with each wave into a pillow, hoping not to wake Anastasia. I got into my bed and was fully into the Flow of the event, each one coming so quickly...
I wanted to go bad to the bathroom to use the toilet...the waves were getting harder...
When I got off to go back to bed, I made it as far as the sink and had to lean on it and rock and sway...heard someone say there was bloody show in the toilet...got into bed...
This was the point that I opened my eyes, wondering where Anastasia was, thinking was she still asleep? or was she awake? Lo and behold, there she was right next to me in my bed still asleep! And I was not quiet at all! Those moans were loud! They needed to be. Never did she stir...
And then Amy said something about pushing with the next contraction... Was she serious?!? It seemed too early! I couldn't be THAT far along...could I? "Hold your breath and bear down!" someone said. I felt pressure like Amy was stretching my perineum... she was asking for more olive oil... "Chin down to your chest and hold your breath and push your baby here..."
I came out of my zone to find Patrick kneeling on the floor to my right, Amy at the foot of my bed. Feeling the urge to push and everyone saying "push," I proceeded to, well, push. I pushed...Amy said something about breaking my bag of waters... I had mentioned my wish to Patrick (sometime well before birth) to birth the bag of waters intact if possible or at least let it break on it's own. When Amy mentioned breaking the BOW, Patrick told her what I had said (my hero! sorry I had never mentioned it to you Amy :) and she responded jokingly with, "Then we are going to get a bath!" (When the BOW did finally break, Amy said that it wasn't that bad, but Patrick got the fluid down his leg...what a trooper!)
Then came the Ring of Fire...I don't think I ever had a feeling of "I can't do this" or "this is too hard," it really happened too fast to have these thoughts... but the Ring of Fire did seem to last quite a while...I pushed the head out and it still burned..."Look at these linebacker shoulders!" (She gets those from Patrick...) She felt like a big one when she finally slid our and oh my God relief! I breathed in that relief and relaxation and peace...and no crying...hmm, babies are supposed to cry, right? Anastasia did and she was born at 31 weeks (although with the steroid shot to develop her lungs early...) I looked down, Amy said "Talk to your baby"...I called her name "Daciana! Daciana!"...Amy was vigorously rubbing her back, then laid her down at my feet and put what looked like an oxygen mask on her and pumped air into her seeming to clear leftover mucus or fluid from her lungs...she cried a little and got a really good color on her skin.... straight to my chest for our first moments...
Our first glorious moments! I did it! I birthed at home in my own bed without any interventions! With people I knew and trusted and hired to keep me healthy and safe... and it only took about 4 hours! Daciana Guinevere was born @ 7:55 am on February 25, 2009. She weighed in at 9 lbs 12 oz, with a 14 inch head and 14 inch torso (which is why the Ring of Fire lasted as long as it did), 21 inches long and wonderful baby fat everywhere! I got her to the breast withing 20 minutes (I think) and left the placenta attached for the Lotus Birth.
And Anastasia slept throught the whole thing!!! She started to wake up at one point and almost got her foot in the placenta bowl :P This is when Patrick picked her up, woke her and said to her, "Look who is here!" (meaning Daciana) She saw my Mom first, "It's Grandmama!" Patrick said, "Well, yeah, and look who else!" She looked over to me, saw the baby and exclaimed, "It's Daciana!" She smiled so big as joy grabbed a hold of her and probably wonderment as well...
This experience was awesome, exciting, fulfilling, rewarding, healing, and - I have to admit - easy!
{Pictures shall come soon! Oh! and the story is far from over... but that is a blog for another time...}
I think this is when I slipped into the zone, or as I teach in my BIRTH classes, the Ebb & Flow of Labor™. It was awesome! I had my eyes closed and let labor happen. Each one quickly rolled into the next, not sure when one ended but knew that another one had begun. I was preparing myself for a long and hard day of labor, thinking that the contractions were going to get stronger, more intense, and also thinking, "Don't I get a few minute break between them??"
I only opened my eyes if I needed to see where I was going - from the bathroom to the bed. I caught glimpses of who was there at different times: Patrick, my Mom, Amy and Erica, Terri R, my doula...
Anastasia was in our bed, where she had slept the night before. I made it to Anastasia's bed - which is next to ours - while someone put plastic on our bed (I had the birth bed prepared for about 2 weeks but got annoyed by the plastic and removed it 2 days before...). By this time I was moaning loudly with each wave into a pillow, hoping not to wake Anastasia. I got into my bed and was fully into the Flow of the event, each one coming so quickly...
I wanted to go bad to the bathroom to use the toilet...the waves were getting harder...
When I got off to go back to bed, I made it as far as the sink and had to lean on it and rock and sway...heard someone say there was bloody show in the toilet...got into bed...
This was the point that I opened my eyes, wondering where Anastasia was, thinking was she still asleep? or was she awake? Lo and behold, there she was right next to me in my bed still asleep! And I was not quiet at all! Those moans were loud! They needed to be. Never did she stir...
And then Amy said something about pushing with the next contraction... Was she serious?!? It seemed too early! I couldn't be THAT far along...could I? "Hold your breath and bear down!" someone said. I felt pressure like Amy was stretching my perineum... she was asking for more olive oil... "Chin down to your chest and hold your breath and push your baby here..."
I came out of my zone to find Patrick kneeling on the floor to my right, Amy at the foot of my bed. Feeling the urge to push and everyone saying "push," I proceeded to, well, push. I pushed...Amy said something about breaking my bag of waters... I had mentioned my wish to Patrick (sometime well before birth) to birth the bag of waters intact if possible or at least let it break on it's own. When Amy mentioned breaking the BOW, Patrick told her what I had said (my hero! sorry I had never mentioned it to you Amy :) and she responded jokingly with, "Then we are going to get a bath!" (When the BOW did finally break, Amy said that it wasn't that bad, but Patrick got the fluid down his leg...what a trooper!)
Then came the Ring of Fire...I don't think I ever had a feeling of "I can't do this" or "this is too hard," it really happened too fast to have these thoughts... but the Ring of Fire did seem to last quite a while...I pushed the head out and it still burned..."Look at these linebacker shoulders!" (She gets those from Patrick...) She felt like a big one when she finally slid our and oh my God relief! I breathed in that relief and relaxation and peace...and no crying...hmm, babies are supposed to cry, right? Anastasia did and she was born at 31 weeks (although with the steroid shot to develop her lungs early...) I looked down, Amy said "Talk to your baby"...I called her name "Daciana! Daciana!"...Amy was vigorously rubbing her back, then laid her down at my feet and put what looked like an oxygen mask on her and pumped air into her seeming to clear leftover mucus or fluid from her lungs...she cried a little and got a really good color on her skin.... straight to my chest for our first moments...
Our first glorious moments! I did it! I birthed at home in my own bed without any interventions! With people I knew and trusted and hired to keep me healthy and safe... and it only took about 4 hours! Daciana Guinevere was born @ 7:55 am on February 25, 2009. She weighed in at 9 lbs 12 oz, with a 14 inch head and 14 inch torso (which is why the Ring of Fire lasted as long as it did), 21 inches long and wonderful baby fat everywhere! I got her to the breast withing 20 minutes (I think) and left the placenta attached for the Lotus Birth.
And Anastasia slept throught the whole thing!!! She started to wake up at one point and almost got her foot in the placenta bowl :P This is when Patrick picked her up, woke her and said to her, "Look who is here!" (meaning Daciana) She saw my Mom first, "It's Grandmama!" Patrick said, "Well, yeah, and look who else!" She looked over to me, saw the baby and exclaimed, "It's Daciana!" She smiled so big as joy grabbed a hold of her and probably wonderment as well...
This experience was awesome, exciting, fulfilling, rewarding, healing, and - I have to admit - easy!
{Pictures shall come soon! Oh! and the story is far from over... but that is a blog for another time...}
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