Dear Little Bug,
Or should I say, Turtle, or Sprout... you have so many nicknames. Either way, whatever we call you, Happy Two Months baby girl. And what a two months it's been!
November held your first big holiday - Thanksgiving. We celebrated it so many times! We had all of our friends over to our house for a big dinner, and everyone just loved you! You were such a happy girl and everyone wanted to hold you. And then we finally were able to make the trip to Iowa to meet all the rest of your family. We took you to where your Daddy grew up, and you got to meet your great grandmas and great grandpas. You were so happy to see Grandma Julie and Grandpa Dave. And the best was when you got to meet your cousin Hattie. Lucy, you and Hattie are going to have so much fun together. I think your Dad is more excited than anyone...I know he thinks about all the fun he had with Aunt Wendy, Uncle Adam, and Uncle Casey and he daydreams about the adventures you and Hattie will have together. Hattie loved you from the moment she met you. She was so concerned about you when you cried and just stared at you with the widest eyes full of concern. And she was so gentle when she touched you, but she wanted to touch you all the time. And she made the sign for "baby" right away, which only made me more determined to teach you sign language so you two can have your own secret language. I can't wait to watch you two grow up together. And of course we went to Grandma and Papa's house, and Uncle Charlie was back to see you! We took a trip downtown - your first experience with public transportation and the downtown area of Chicago. We took you to Lincoln Park Zoo for the zoo lights, and set up our Christmas tree. Lucy girl, it would probably be safe to say that EVERYONE is thankful this year for you... but I'll just speak for myself. I am so incredibly thankful for you. You are everything that is good and one of the best things that has ever happened to me.
This past month has held one of my hardest challenges, going back to work. Lucy, I absolutely HATE leaving you. All day I look at your picture, I ache to hold you, and I try to think of ways to bring you with me to work. I show pictures of you to everyone, and always share stories of funny things you do. When I'm home, I just want to cuddle you and kiss you forever.
This month also was when we discovered your lip tie, and your first medical procedure: clipping it. The doctor said you didn't actually feel any pain, and it likely was just upsetting to you that there were three different people sticking their fingers in your mouth. BUT! It made my heart break to hear you cry like that. I was so grateful that I was able to nurse you and comfort you the best way I know how right afterwards. We seem to have gotten this breast feeding thing down pat. It was difficult, but I'm so so SO glad I stuck with it because I have to say that I enjoy this time with you so very much. You fling your little hand up on my chest and play with my shirt or rub your hand on my neck. Sometimes you stop eating to just look up at me and smile.
Oh oh oh oh you have the most wonderful smile! You make me so happy, and your smile makes me laugh. It's much more intentional, and frequent. You have started playing with your faces, and peek-a-boo actually gets a reaction from you. And you are starting to talk... well, not words but you make the most delicious little noises. You concentrate and work so hard to "talk" to us. But I love it best when you are just waking up. You stretch and stretch, and then fall back asleep. Then you stretch again, and sleep some more. It's so hard - such work - to get up but I love it. You bury your face or fling your arm over your eyes. I can only imagine you as a 14 year old that I am trying to drag out of bed and off to school. You are the funniest, most expressive little girl... I don't want to miss a moment!
Everyone loves you so much, little girl. Papa said it best just today when he exclaimed, "I can't believe it's only been two months!" Lucy, you have become everything... it's hard to remember or imagine life with you, before you. You make everyone so so so very happy. You are my sunshine, you bring us so much job.
Lucy Lu, you are changing every day. I look at pictures from just two months ago and it amazes me. You outgrew my favorite outfit, one that you used to be swimming in. Grandma Julie gave it to you and it was just so pretty on you, the blue bringing out your beautiful skin and eyes. But one day I put it on you and the buttons hardly snapped and your feet pulled the material tight across your shoulders. Little Bug, it is so exciting to see you develop but it scares me how fast time is flying. I walk around the house with you just whispering "I love you" or "You are smart... you are strong... you are beautiful... you are good..." over and over again into your ear. I just hope that not a day goes by where I don't tell you those thoughts, and not a day comes when you don't believe them. I want to squeeze you, and hold you close all the time, but you are already more interested in looking around and being on the move. Just don't grow up to fast little one... and always remember, I love you, I love you, I love you. Forever.
xox Love,
Momma
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Friday, November 30, 2012
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
The Birth of Lucille Kathleen
My due date was September 17th, which came and went amidst the flurry of painting, prepping, and moving into our new home. I walked up and down stairs, squatted to clean baseboards, lunged to wash windows, and continued working during the day. I would see patients and they would say, "When are you due?" My replies of "today" or "3 days ago" or "a week ago" were often met with exclamations of, "Oh! Don't have it here!" But not to fear, I felt perfectly fine - not even a hint of a contraction. I started going back to my midwife every 3 days... hooked up to a machine to check baby's heart rate and watch for contractions. I had my membranes swept, was told I was dilated and effaced - first 2cm and 50%, then 4cm and 70%. With the threat of an induction looming on the horizon, I went to the chiropractor for a massage and adjustment. "There are trigger points that can help induce labor, right? DO THEM ALL" I said. It wasn't that I was over being pregnant, honestly I knew I would miss having my little one so close to me. I felt good - I was still working and moving about like normal. But I definitely did not want to end up in a hospital facing a whole list of unknown interventions.
For the past three years I have know that I wanted a home birth. Wendy (Aunt Wendy to Lucy - Dad's sister) brought our attention to the Be Bold movement and Chris directed a play called "Birth" in support of the Iowa Midwives. Wendy and I both were in the play and we learned a TON about women's birth choices... I will go into "why home birth" in a different post, but this post is all about my own home birth.
Thursday night after visiting the chiropractor and midwife, Chris and I went to our new house to clean and move a few more things in. We hadn't actually slept over at our new home yet, but decided that this was the night. Friday we decided to run a few errands and buy some things we needed for the new house... Between the bathmats and batteries at Target, contractions started. They weren't that bad so we kept walking around and doing our thing. I tried not to get too excited, knowing the could stop or that it could still be a long way away from "go time". We kept trucking along and I tried to convince Chris that we needed to go look at a new stove. He instead convinced me to call our MUSIC THERAPIST - doula, Kate Taylor. "Kate, I've been having these contractions..." I started out. Kate urged us to go home and time contractions. We had to stop at Jewel first... if I was going into labor we would need food in our house for ourselves and for midwives, our doula and anyone else who may be around. Of course we didn't have a stove either... I think Chris took total advantage of my contractions/laborious state and purchased a 24 pack of pepperoni hot pockets. I DO NOT like pepperoni.
Back at home we labored and hung out, Kate came to meet us and check in on me. At 10 minutes apart we thought we were well on our way to having a baby. But! around 9pm contractions completely stopped. I mean, NOTHING was happening. Nada. Nein. I would be lying if I said I was ok with this. Yes, I trusted my body - but I was frustrated. I went to bed that night sad, impatient, and praying that things would get going again. I did NOT want to end up in the hospital on Monday.
The next morning Chris and I went on a walk with Ellie. We decided to check out our new neighborhood before the contractor came over to put in the dishwasher. We met new neighbors and new dogs, checked out a fabulous new park, and impatiently noticed that contractions were simply not happening. About 10am we crawled back into bed and prayed. I prayed and prayed that labor would start, that I would meet my baby soon. I sang comforting songs from youth ministry days and Monmouth College spiritual life retreats. We talked about how we would be parents soon. I soon devised a rotation of baby inducing efforts. I did cat cow yoga stretches, sat on the birth ball, and other fun labor starting activities. Chris went to help the contractor hooking up our dishwasher and returned to me jumping and singing on the bed (Aunt Alexis' suggestion).
Later, as contractions were coming but irregular I talked with Kate on the phone and she asked about what it was that I was holding onto, what was holding me back. She got me thinking and as I sat on the birth ball alone in my living room I again turned to prayer. Asking for forgiveness, for strength, peace, and blessings. I asked Mother Mary and every saint I could think of for their prayers and support. I implored the angels to be with me and to wrap my baby in love and safety. Chris came in from outside and joined me. We held each other in a sort of dance with the afternoon sun in our new home. Contractions picked back up and were getting into full swing. Even though they would hurt and I would catch my breath and say "Thank you". I was grateful for each contractions bringing my baby, grateful for my husband who was a rock, grateful for my body which felt more powerful than I could have imagined.
Eventually, Kate came and walked into me laying on the couch crying. It might have been a transition where contractions were increasingly painful, or the emotions of the day. She encouraged me to get up and trying something new to deal with the pain, but I first wanted to talk to my Mom. I really have no idea what time of night I called her, although it had to be before 9 because the midwives were not there yet. In tears, I doubted myself and told her, "Mom, I can't do this." Now, weeks ago the midwife had said that many laboring moms want to call their mom at some point. I hadn't been sure that I would want to, just because I thought I had mentally prepared and had a fantastic support system in Chris but she was right. Calling my Mom was one of the best things I did that night. She was perfect. My Mom can be the perfect mix of strong and sympathetic. Emotional and encouraging. Just hearing her voice reminded me that I wasn't alone, that she and so many other women had done this before and that I could do it too. I felt empowered again. No one will ever love you the way your Mom loves you.
Kate was a perfect addition to the birth. She got the music playing, got me on the birth ball, and helped me vocalize in a productive way. I would be lying if I said I wasn't vocal... I was, I was LOUD. We worked on deep moans with a open relaxed jaw (your jaw is in direct relation with your cervix and opening my relaxed mouth apparently would help my body open as well). Chris worried thinking about our peoples reactions to the noises coming from their new neighbors home. But he was smart enough not to suggest I quiet down.
Kate encouraged me to try out a shower, in which I instantly felt better and more relaxed. I sat on the edge of the tub, knelt on the floor, or lent against the wall just enjoying the soothing warm water. We had the brilliant idea of putting the birth ball in the tub, and I tried to position it so that the stream of water would hit my back. Chris and Kate were outside the bathroom when they heard a thud and my own laughter. Chris came in asking if I was ok, to which I replied "Yes" but that I needed a little help. He pulled back the shower curtain to find me on my butt, water spraying me in the face, and my (huge) pregnant self wedged between the wall and the birth ball. Apparently a rubber ball is slippery when wet and when I tried to sit down I slid right off. I couldn't help but laugh and I remember remarking that this was likely the sexiest thing my husband had ever seen.
Hilary (our midwife) had the 4-1-1 rule... she would come when contractions were 4 minutes apart, 1 minute long, and those two criteria had been going on for 1 hour. Chris had called to talk to her what seemed like a million times that night, and finally she said she was on her way. At 9pm Hilary and Mara (Hilary's midwifery student and aid for the evening) arrived at our house. Chris and Kate had set up the tub in the living room. I was currently on the couch but had been transitioning between bedroom, couch, and bathroom. I felt a sense of relief having them there, and when they checked my progress I was thrilled to learn I was 7cm dilated and 100% effaced. I remember looking at Chris and remarking that our baby was going to be born today, September 29th. But the time flew by, I was in and out of the birth tub, walking around, sitting on the toilet/birth ball/Chris' lap. I was so lucky in that I was able to do anything I wanted. I was the boss, this was MY birth, MY body and I could do what my body wanted. There were some funny moments, Chris says I didn't lose my sense of humor... or sarcasm. And there were touching moments, as I had gotten to the point where I was starting to push and Ellie decided to check things out. She had been fairly uninterested up until then, but she walked up to the edge of the pool to check on me. I was leaning over the side and could press my head against hers and rub her ears. I couldn't help but think of all the times I was lonely, or angry, or depressed and was able to curl up with her and cry.
Through the course of the "pushing phase" I walked around a fair bit. They encouraged Chris and I to lay down and rest earlier but I couldn't. I let Chris have a short nap but the contractions were so close together there wouldn't be sleep for me. Everyone encouraged me to walk up and down the stairs but I was stubborn and refused. Instead I walked through the apartment, Mara and/or Kate at my side, often Chris following right behind so that if I bent into a squat/sit to push he would be my support. I literally sat on his legs as he did a squat in midair to hold me. When I say he was with me every step of the way, I mean it literally. Later we would go to the chiropractor and find that ever area in which my body was misaligned from the birth, his was too. I don't think there is another man in the world like him. And I only really got testy with him once, asking him not to touch me because I was just too hot. He really is amazing.
I was coming to the end of my rope... I had already told everyone to figure something else out, that I couldn't do this. I asked for "something" to ease the pain... not knowing what in the world that "something" could be, maybe a Tylenol? Ha ha. It was now the very early part of Sunday morning. September 29th had come and gone. I had been pushing for what felt like forever. There were times when I'd get pumped up saying "I can do this" but I'd get worn down again. Kate was so perfect, she knew the best places to touch or massage... and the best things to say to me. She looked at me and told me how proud she was, how awesome I had been doing. She reminded me that in the hospital I would have been deemed a "failure to progress" but that I had worked through that - fought through that. She encouraged me. They had me reach down and feel my baby, the top of her head soft and oh so close to coming out. I was ready to really push. Hilary told me to go to bed (the birth pool had been given up on as it relaxed me too much and slowed contractions). I remember telling her I didn't want to and her explaining that giving birth into a toilet was less than ideal and a very difficult way for her to catch my baby. Given that compelling argument, I crawled into bed with my husband by my side. Mara stationed herself at one leg, Kate at the other, Hilary waiting for the baby.
It was amazing to me to have to learn how to push. I would push push push but nothing would happen. I had to figure out how to push the right way. I told Hilary she could just, "reach in there and pull this baby out" but she told me this was my birth, and only I could birth this baby. Even though I was tired and maybe ready to give up, that simple realization that only I could do this was just as encouraging. This was my job, to bring this little person into the world. They encouraged me to feel her head again, although I was scared I'd reach down and not feel her any closer than she was the last time, I placed my hand on the top of her head. She was so close to being in my arms! Only a few pushes later and then in seconds she was on my chest. Oh my goodness she had SO MUCH HAIR! I asked if she was a boy or girl, Hilary informed us that that was our job to find out. Chris made the call... "It's a girl, I think". He cut her umbilical cord, and We sat together, just us three..Hilary, Kate, and Mara swirled around us cleaning, checking, data-collecting...but it was just us, our family, in our bed, in our house. I was shocked, here she was! It was her, it was my little Lucy. I had thought about being a mom my entire life, and in what felt like seconds (42 weeks, 36 hours of labor, 4 hours of pushing... but seconds) and here she was. Chris and I just wanted to lay there and look at her forever.
Chris went out to make phone calls to announce her arrival to the world. I had a few stitches and I laugh now remembering the pang of fear that came when I saw Hilary's needle - despite the fact that I had just lived through giving birth. Mara and Hilary walked me to the bathroom, helped me clean up, and checked on my sweet girl. Kate left to get home to her own children, one of whom desperately (for Kate's sake) needed to be breastfed. She updated her Facebook status saying,
It had gotten cold suddenly, like fall was really here. The air was crisp and invigorating. The moon was huge, as full as can be and the sun on the brink of rising as Lucy came into the world. It was the beginning of our brand new story...
For the past three years I have know that I wanted a home birth. Wendy (Aunt Wendy to Lucy - Dad's sister) brought our attention to the Be Bold movement and Chris directed a play called "Birth" in support of the Iowa Midwives. Wendy and I both were in the play and we learned a TON about women's birth choices... I will go into "why home birth" in a different post, but this post is all about my own home birth.
Thursday night after visiting the chiropractor and midwife, Chris and I went to our new house to clean and move a few more things in. We hadn't actually slept over at our new home yet, but decided that this was the night. Friday we decided to run a few errands and buy some things we needed for the new house... Between the bathmats and batteries at Target, contractions started. They weren't that bad so we kept walking around and doing our thing. I tried not to get too excited, knowing the could stop or that it could still be a long way away from "go time". We kept trucking along and I tried to convince Chris that we needed to go look at a new stove. He instead convinced me to call our MUSIC THERAPIST - doula, Kate Taylor. "Kate, I've been having these contractions..." I started out. Kate urged us to go home and time contractions. We had to stop at Jewel first... if I was going into labor we would need food in our house for ourselves and for midwives, our doula and anyone else who may be around. Of course we didn't have a stove either... I think Chris took total advantage of my contractions/laborious state and purchased a 24 pack of pepperoni hot pockets. I DO NOT like pepperoni.
Back at home we labored and hung out, Kate came to meet us and check in on me. At 10 minutes apart we thought we were well on our way to having a baby. But! around 9pm contractions completely stopped. I mean, NOTHING was happening. Nada. Nein. I would be lying if I said I was ok with this. Yes, I trusted my body - but I was frustrated. I went to bed that night sad, impatient, and praying that things would get going again. I did NOT want to end up in the hospital on Monday.
The next morning Chris and I went on a walk with Ellie. We decided to check out our new neighborhood before the contractor came over to put in the dishwasher. We met new neighbors and new dogs, checked out a fabulous new park, and impatiently noticed that contractions were simply not happening. About 10am we crawled back into bed and prayed. I prayed and prayed that labor would start, that I would meet my baby soon. I sang comforting songs from youth ministry days and Monmouth College spiritual life retreats. We talked about how we would be parents soon. I soon devised a rotation of baby inducing efforts. I did cat cow yoga stretches, sat on the birth ball, and other fun labor starting activities. Chris went to help the contractor hooking up our dishwasher and returned to me jumping and singing on the bed (Aunt Alexis' suggestion).
Later, as contractions were coming but irregular I talked with Kate on the phone and she asked about what it was that I was holding onto, what was holding me back. She got me thinking and as I sat on the birth ball alone in my living room I again turned to prayer. Asking for forgiveness, for strength, peace, and blessings. I asked Mother Mary and every saint I could think of for their prayers and support. I implored the angels to be with me and to wrap my baby in love and safety. Chris came in from outside and joined me. We held each other in a sort of dance with the afternoon sun in our new home. Contractions picked back up and were getting into full swing. Even though they would hurt and I would catch my breath and say "Thank you". I was grateful for each contractions bringing my baby, grateful for my husband who was a rock, grateful for my body which felt more powerful than I could have imagined.
Eventually, Kate came and walked into me laying on the couch crying. It might have been a transition where contractions were increasingly painful, or the emotions of the day. She encouraged me to get up and trying something new to deal with the pain, but I first wanted to talk to my Mom. I really have no idea what time of night I called her, although it had to be before 9 because the midwives were not there yet. In tears, I doubted myself and told her, "Mom, I can't do this." Now, weeks ago the midwife had said that many laboring moms want to call their mom at some point. I hadn't been sure that I would want to, just because I thought I had mentally prepared and had a fantastic support system in Chris but she was right. Calling my Mom was one of the best things I did that night. She was perfect. My Mom can be the perfect mix of strong and sympathetic. Emotional and encouraging. Just hearing her voice reminded me that I wasn't alone, that she and so many other women had done this before and that I could do it too. I felt empowered again. No one will ever love you the way your Mom loves you.
Kate was a perfect addition to the birth. She got the music playing, got me on the birth ball, and helped me vocalize in a productive way. I would be lying if I said I wasn't vocal... I was, I was LOUD. We worked on deep moans with a open relaxed jaw (your jaw is in direct relation with your cervix and opening my relaxed mouth apparently would help my body open as well). Chris worried thinking about our peoples reactions to the noises coming from their new neighbors home. But he was smart enough not to suggest I quiet down.
Kate encouraged me to try out a shower, in which I instantly felt better and more relaxed. I sat on the edge of the tub, knelt on the floor, or lent against the wall just enjoying the soothing warm water. We had the brilliant idea of putting the birth ball in the tub, and I tried to position it so that the stream of water would hit my back. Chris and Kate were outside the bathroom when they heard a thud and my own laughter. Chris came in asking if I was ok, to which I replied "Yes" but that I needed a little help. He pulled back the shower curtain to find me on my butt, water spraying me in the face, and my (huge) pregnant self wedged between the wall and the birth ball. Apparently a rubber ball is slippery when wet and when I tried to sit down I slid right off. I couldn't help but laugh and I remember remarking that this was likely the sexiest thing my husband had ever seen.
Hilary (our midwife) had the 4-1-1 rule... she would come when contractions were 4 minutes apart, 1 minute long, and those two criteria had been going on for 1 hour. Chris had called to talk to her what seemed like a million times that night, and finally she said she was on her way. At 9pm Hilary and Mara (Hilary's midwifery student and aid for the evening) arrived at our house. Chris and Kate had set up the tub in the living room. I was currently on the couch but had been transitioning between bedroom, couch, and bathroom. I felt a sense of relief having them there, and when they checked my progress I was thrilled to learn I was 7cm dilated and 100% effaced. I remember looking at Chris and remarking that our baby was going to be born today, September 29th. But the time flew by, I was in and out of the birth tub, walking around, sitting on the toilet/birth ball/Chris' lap. I was so lucky in that I was able to do anything I wanted. I was the boss, this was MY birth, MY body and I could do what my body wanted. There were some funny moments, Chris says I didn't lose my sense of humor... or sarcasm. And there were touching moments, as I had gotten to the point where I was starting to push and Ellie decided to check things out. She had been fairly uninterested up until then, but she walked up to the edge of the pool to check on me. I was leaning over the side and could press my head against hers and rub her ears. I couldn't help but think of all the times I was lonely, or angry, or depressed and was able to curl up with her and cry.
Through the course of the "pushing phase" I walked around a fair bit. They encouraged Chris and I to lay down and rest earlier but I couldn't. I let Chris have a short nap but the contractions were so close together there wouldn't be sleep for me. Everyone encouraged me to walk up and down the stairs but I was stubborn and refused. Instead I walked through the apartment, Mara and/or Kate at my side, often Chris following right behind so that if I bent into a squat/sit to push he would be my support. I literally sat on his legs as he did a squat in midair to hold me. When I say he was with me every step of the way, I mean it literally. Later we would go to the chiropractor and find that ever area in which my body was misaligned from the birth, his was too. I don't think there is another man in the world like him. And I only really got testy with him once, asking him not to touch me because I was just too hot. He really is amazing.
I was coming to the end of my rope... I had already told everyone to figure something else out, that I couldn't do this. I asked for "something" to ease the pain... not knowing what in the world that "something" could be, maybe a Tylenol? Ha ha. It was now the very early part of Sunday morning. September 29th had come and gone. I had been pushing for what felt like forever. There were times when I'd get pumped up saying "I can do this" but I'd get worn down again. Kate was so perfect, she knew the best places to touch or massage... and the best things to say to me. She looked at me and told me how proud she was, how awesome I had been doing. She reminded me that in the hospital I would have been deemed a "failure to progress" but that I had worked through that - fought through that. She encouraged me. They had me reach down and feel my baby, the top of her head soft and oh so close to coming out. I was ready to really push. Hilary told me to go to bed (the birth pool had been given up on as it relaxed me too much and slowed contractions). I remember telling her I didn't want to and her explaining that giving birth into a toilet was less than ideal and a very difficult way for her to catch my baby. Given that compelling argument, I crawled into bed with my husband by my side. Mara stationed herself at one leg, Kate at the other, Hilary waiting for the baby.
It was amazing to me to have to learn how to push. I would push push push but nothing would happen. I had to figure out how to push the right way. I told Hilary she could just, "reach in there and pull this baby out" but she told me this was my birth, and only I could birth this baby. Even though I was tired and maybe ready to give up, that simple realization that only I could do this was just as encouraging. This was my job, to bring this little person into the world. They encouraged me to feel her head again, although I was scared I'd reach down and not feel her any closer than she was the last time, I placed my hand on the top of her head. She was so close to being in my arms! Only a few pushes later and then in seconds she was on my chest. Oh my goodness she had SO MUCH HAIR! I asked if she was a boy or girl, Hilary informed us that that was our job to find out. Chris made the call... "It's a girl, I think". He cut her umbilical cord, and We sat together, just us three..Hilary, Kate, and Mara swirled around us cleaning, checking, data-collecting...but it was just us, our family, in our bed, in our house. I was shocked, here she was! It was her, it was my little Lucy. I had thought about being a mom my entire life, and in what felt like seconds (42 weeks, 36 hours of labor, 4 hours of pushing... but seconds) and here she was. Chris and I just wanted to lay there and look at her forever.
Chris went out to make phone calls to announce her arrival to the world. I had a few stitches and I laugh now remembering the pang of fear that came when I saw Hilary's needle - despite the fact that I had just lived through giving birth. Mara and Hilary walked me to the bathroom, helped me clean up, and checked on my sweet girl. Kate left to get home to her own children, one of whom desperately (for Kate's sake) needed to be breastfed. She updated her Facebook status saying,
"I was so thankful for the light of day today! After douling the LONGEST.HOMEBIRTH.EVER, I got to drive home with the sunrise at my back and the fullness of the moon in my sight. By the grace of GOD, baby girl "L" was finally birthed into this world at 4:44 a.m. After nearly 36 hours of labor on and off and four hours of pushing, baby girl, her marathon momma and her courageous dad are resting together. If I have missed your call or lapsed on my commitments to any of you my dear friends, God placed me exactly where I was needed. Time.to.sleep.for.a.week."
It had gotten cold suddenly, like fall was really here. The air was crisp and invigorating. The moon was huge, as full as can be and the sun on the brink of rising as Lucy came into the world. It was the beginning of our brand new story...
Lucille Kathleen
4:44am - September 30
6 pound 9 ounces - 20.5 inches long
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Monday, November 26, 2012
On my own...
Today was my first day back to work. Amidst the tears and worry a really sad thought came to my mind (as if I needed more fodder to cry over). Today was the first time I really attended work all alone. During the interview/hiring process I discovered that I was pregnant. Lucy has been with me every day that I have worked this job. She was the one I talked to in the car between clients sharing my dreams of her future and bargaining with her to come at the perfect time, she was the one I sang to when I was jamming out in the car, she was the one I thought about when I sang "You are my Sunshine" for the millionth time that week, and she was the one I encouraged when I was tired at the end of my day... "One more person to see, Baby, and then we can go home!"
It wasn't that terrible. We survived. Grandma sent pictures all day to my phone letting me know that Lucy was going to the bank, or Wal-mart, or taking a nap. I had enough breast milk to get her through the day with some left over. The nursery staff and Grandma's co-workers didn't say that Lucy wasn't allowed back and had fun with her. I actually took a shower, ate breakfast, fed Ellie, AND loaded the dishwasher. I went to the office, looked at pictures of Lucy. Had my computer fixed and got the new company phone... and looked at pictures of Lucy. I pumped in the office, and in the car, and looked at pictures of Lucy. I stopped at the grocery store on the way home to pick up celebratory "We survived" pork chops for dinner and dishwasher detergent for the dishes I loaded this morning.
And then!
There she was, back in my arms again. She felt bigger, but surprised me with how light she is. She smiled up at me and I was taken straight back to September 30th... This is my baby. My precious little girl, and I am so incredibly grateful for the honor of being her Momma. Even now when she is crabby and fighting sleep, I look over at her daddy rocking her in his arms, I can't help but think of how I am the luckiest woman in the world and my heart keeps beating "thank you, thank you, thank you".
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It wasn't that terrible. We survived. Grandma sent pictures all day to my phone letting me know that Lucy was going to the bank, or Wal-mart, or taking a nap. I had enough breast milk to get her through the day with some left over. The nursery staff and Grandma's co-workers didn't say that Lucy wasn't allowed back and had fun with her. I actually took a shower, ate breakfast, fed Ellie, AND loaded the dishwasher. I went to the office, looked at pictures of Lucy. Had my computer fixed and got the new company phone... and looked at pictures of Lucy. I pumped in the office, and in the car, and looked at pictures of Lucy. I stopped at the grocery store on the way home to pick up celebratory "We survived" pork chops for dinner and dishwasher detergent for the dishes I loaded this morning.
And then!
There she was, back in my arms again. She felt bigger, but surprised me with how light she is. She smiled up at me and I was taken straight back to September 30th... This is my baby. My precious little girl, and I am so incredibly grateful for the honor of being her Momma. Even now when she is crabby and fighting sleep, I look over at her daddy rocking her in his arms, I can't help but think of how I am the luckiest woman in the world and my heart keeps beating "thank you, thank you, thank you".
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Thursday, November 22, 2012
Giving thanks
This Thanksgiving it's hard not to reflect on the past year with wonder and to laugh a bit. I guess you never know how much can change in a year, and when your in the midst of a situation it's hard to see what may lay ahead. But like wise it's amazing to see what you've traveled through.
One year ago as we celebrated Thanksgiving I was looking forward to only a few more weeks of my internship and was ready to start a new job. We were living with my parents and that Monday we went to look at our first house. Last November we were Thankful that my internship had gone so well, that Chris had a job, that my parents had put up with us for 6 months, and that the trials and tribulations of life in the Quad Cities were behind us.
By the new year I had lost the job that I thought I had and was job hunting again. I took my certification test, became a Board Certified Music Therapist, and applied to jobs like mad. Before I knew it, I was offered another job with a hospice company. Even then, a matter of weeks it was amazing to see how much could change.
And then... we had NEWS to share. Suddenly everything changed when we found out that our Lucy was on the way.
There were ups and downs over the past year - new job, new car, new house, new baby!
The year flew by, and as I watched Lucy wake up this morning I couldn't help but think about how thankful I am. I am so lucky that I have such amazing family who loves me so much. Both my family and my in-laws are wonderful. They have helped us so much in the past year, they have loved and supported us more than I could have ever asked for. I am so incredibly thankful for a husband who takes care of his family, who loves me and stays by my side every step in our journey and who is am absolutely fantastic father. And I am so incredibly grateful for by beautiful girl. I sat at her side watching her sleep and just thanking God for sending her.
I have never been more happy...
I have never been more humbled...
I have never been more thankful than I am this Thanksgiving.
One year ago as we celebrated Thanksgiving I was looking forward to only a few more weeks of my internship and was ready to start a new job. We were living with my parents and that Monday we went to look at our first house. Last November we were Thankful that my internship had gone so well, that Chris had a job, that my parents had put up with us for 6 months, and that the trials and tribulations of life in the Quad Cities were behind us.
By the new year I had lost the job that I thought I had and was job hunting again. I took my certification test, became a Board Certified Music Therapist, and applied to jobs like mad. Before I knew it, I was offered another job with a hospice company. Even then, a matter of weeks it was amazing to see how much could change.
And then... we had NEWS to share. Suddenly everything changed when we found out that our Lucy was on the way.
There were ups and downs over the past year - new job, new car, new house, new baby!
The year flew by, and as I watched Lucy wake up this morning I couldn't help but think about how thankful I am. I am so lucky that I have such amazing family who loves me so much. Both my family and my in-laws are wonderful. They have helped us so much in the past year, they have loved and supported us more than I could have ever asked for. I am so incredibly thankful for a husband who takes care of his family, who loves me and stays by my side every step in our journey and who is am absolutely fantastic father. And I am so incredibly grateful for by beautiful girl. I sat at her side watching her sleep and just thanking God for sending her.
I have never been more happy...
I have never been more humbled...
I have never been more thankful than I am this Thanksgiving.
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Thursday, November 8, 2012
I love you
Oh little Lucy, there are times when the only thing I can do is wrap both of my arms around you tight, hold you close to me, give you kisses all over your face, and whisper "I love you, I love you, I love you" over and over again into your ears. You squirm and try to eat my face and make the sweetest little noises, and it only makes me say it more.
I promise to do this for always. Even when you are 14 and way to cool to want me to do this. But I'll do it anyway. And I think you will secretly love it.
I promise to do this for always. Even when you are 14 and way to cool to want me to do this. But I'll do it anyway. And I think you will secretly love it.
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