Me? Supermom? Only if you are too!

Someone called me a supemom yesterday. My first instinct was to laught out loud- I do NOT consider myself a supermom by any stretch of the imagination. Then I stopped myself, realizing that she was probably serious, and started to ponder.

 

 

Having a blog does not make me a supermom. Posting cute pictures of my kids does not make me a super mom. Feeding them organic food, breastfeeding my two year old, using gentle discipline, co-sleeping and homebirthing- these things do not make me a supermom. Supermom- what does that even mean? I'm just a normal mom, doing the best that I can. The best that I can do is going to look different than the best that another mom can do. Not better, not worse, just different.

 

 

Want to know the truth? I struggle with motherhood. Sure, there are parts of it that come really naturally to me(like the whole mothering a newborn thing- it totally clicked for me from day one), but there are so many other parts that don't. Most days I'm tired, frustrated, and giving this thing my best shot, hoping that I don't screw my kids up too badly. Really.

 

See? Cute picture of us having fun, and Hayden has toothpaste on her face still.

 

Honestly, my personality type (INTJ) is not the greatest suited for motherhood, especially stay at home motherhood. I'm a BIG introvert, so being around small people that need nearly constant interaction all day every day is difficult for me. I do lots of internal thinking and processing, and having toddlers around is a direct conflict with that most of the time. Nothing like being in the middle of deep contemplation and being interrupted with, "Mommy! I pooped!!!" It's a daily struggle to balance my need for learning, thinking, and processing with their needs for interaction and play. I read the other day that INTJs and ENTJs are the types that are most likely, as mothers, to work outside the home, and it was incredibly validating to me just to hear that. I often think that I would be a better mother if I was working outside of the home at least part time. That's not a realistic possibility for us right now, but even just acknowledging to myself that my current situation is not idea for my personality is helpful for me, and helps me to not feel so guitly or helpless when I do get frustrated.

 

As an introvert, especially an introvert that was fairly sheltered as a kid, I'm not very social. I don't make enough playdates or provide enough social interaction, especially for my extroverted kid. I struggle with giving them enough outside time. I don't always enjoy playtime, and we don't do a lot of fancy crafts. These are things that I'm working on, but I'm also giving myself space to be imperfect and not beating myself up over these things. Parenting is a hard job, and more and more lately I'm choosing to give myself credit for the things that I have done right, instead of beating myself up for what I haven't done. And surprisingly, when I do let go of that guilt, I feel so much more confident that I actually feel freer to accomplish some of those things that I was feeling guilty about not doing before. Guilt doesn't help me become a better mother, it holds me back from becoming a better mother.

 

I'm not perfect. I get frustrated, I sometimes speak more harshly than I should, and sometimes I just need a BREAK already! But I never stop trying. I never stop telling my kids that I love them. I never stop trying to do my best to show them that I love them. To me, that's what a supermom really is- someone that loves her kids and is trying to do her best. And that's going to look a little different for every mom. Let's stop comparing ourselves, stop beating ourselves up, and instead acknowledge and celebrate all the good that we do accomplish.

 

Me? Supermom? Only if you are too! I think we're all pretty darn super. Let's start giving ourselves credit for it.

 

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The Pieces Were Always There.

Twenty six years ago, I was born unassisted at home in a little second floor apartment in Largo, Florida. Yeah, my parents were a little crazy. My mom didn't even decide that she wanted to have me at home until labor had already started. One of my parents' paramedic friends dropped off an emergency childbirth kit, but he couldn't stay because he'd lose his job if he did and something went wrong. But of course, nothing went wrong. I was born just fine into my daddy's hands. They even took pictures, actual birth photos of me crowning and everything- but I'll spare you the graphic ones.

 

 

Twenty two years ago, I was a four year old little girl who had just become a big sister. I came super close to being in the room when she was born, but I chickened out at the last minute and decided to spend my time in the waiting room, coloring and playing with my brand new Lite Brite- the one that I had picked out during a rushed pit stop at Toys-R-Us before we headed to the hospital. Yep- the same mom that chose to have an unassisted homebirth with me chose to birth my sister at the hospital- and said afterwards that she much preferred the homebirth. Go figure. After my sister came home, I loved to pretend I was a little mommy. I even nursed my baby dolls.

 

Eighteen years ago, I was an eight year old little girl that was totally fascinated with pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding, and infant care. I'd spend hours reading the books that my mother had collected during her pregnancy with my sister. There was While Waiting, with the fascinating diagrams in the front showing the position of the baby and the growth of the uterus through the months of pregnancy. Then there was the baby book that shall remain unnamed- because it was used so much that it broke into 4 different pieces and the cover went missing. I learned how to bathe a newborn, breastfeeding basics, how to sterilize bottles, and basic developmental milestones.

 

 

Five years ago, I was newly pregnant with my first and starting to look into birth options. Little did I know the world that I would soon become completely immersed in. I thought I was just researching my options for my upcoming birth, but what I was really doing was uncovering a passion. I soaked up as much information as I could, and I continue to do that until this day.

 

 

Three years ago, I was on a family vacation in Oregon and pregnant with my second, when I had a divine dream. I was trying to survive my way through life, knowing that my husband was called to ministry within the church, and thinking that that's what I was supposed to do as well. As much as I loved birth, I didn't think that birth work could be a calling- and didn't I want to serve God with my life? (ha!) Then as we were on this trip, I had a dream that I believe was truly from God. I was helping a friend of mine through labor. I was praying over her, supporting her, encouraging her. I was the only one there that knew how to help her, and I confidently stepped in like I knew exactly what I was doing(and I did!). I was still just barely starting to figure out who I was at that point in my life, so to have a dream where I was so totally confident and comfortable in who I was and what I was doing was incredibly inspiring. The revelation that birth work could be a calling, a gifting, a ministry? Wow. From that moment on I began to explore the idea that maybe this was what I was supposed to do. All the pieces had been there, I just needed to put them together.

 

 

Two and a half years ago, I gave birth to my son in my own bed, in my own home, with the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the three huge windows in my bedroom. That experience changed me forever. It was the start of something amazing. It empowered me, and I knew I had to help other women have a chance at that same experience.

 

 

Eleven and a half months ago, I decided to stop just waiting around until circumstances allowed me to start doing birth work, and actually DO something with the time while I was waiting. I saved up for a couple of months, and then enrolled in the Childbirth International birth doula course. I started scouring Half Price Books and the library bookstore for childbirth and breastfeeding books, and built a pretty decent start to a lending library.

 

 

Seven months ago, I had the incredible honor of attending Jessica The Leaky B@@b's homebirth of her precious Arden. Oh wow. If there was any doubt how I felt about birth, about feeling called to this, about absolutely loving birth and everything to do with it, that was all wiped away in one night. It was incredible, simply incredible.

 

 

Two months ago, I offered to chat with a mom who was expecting for the first time, just mom-to-mom from someone with a little experience to someone doing this for the first time. I answered questions, validated concerns, and let her borrow some of my books. A couple of weeks later she called back and asked me if I wanted to be her doula. Did I?!?! Of course!!!

 

 

Just two days ago, the expectant momma and her husband sat in my living room for my first prenatal visit ever, and we talked about birth plans and options and what she wanted. Then she paid me. Two days ago, I made actual money doing this. It wasn't a lot, and it's a super small start, but it's still a milestone for me. For the first time, I've made money doing what I've dreamed about doing for so long. And next month, I'll have the incredible honor of being with this family as they welcome a brand new human being into their family. I can't imagine loving any job more.

 

 

 

 

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Remembering Dad.

Today marks 8 years since my dad passed away. It was completely unexpected- we had no idea that he was sick or in danger of dying. Of course, looking back there are signs- morbid obesity, sleep apnea left largely untreated. But when you're just a kid you don't ever think that you might wake up one day and find that your father is just gone. I still remember the last movie we watched together, the last words that he said to me that night before I went to sleep. I'll cherish that moment forever.



I guess grief comes in waves, or at least it does for me. I'll go for months without thinking about him much, and then I'll have a month where everything reminds me of him. November's been like that for me. The first chilly day always makes me think of him- how much he loved the cold weather and breathing in the fresh northern air. Then, unexpectedly, the grocery store parking lot will be full of migrating birds, and I remember how we used to sit and watch them all sitting in the trees, the electric wires, the cars- and how he'd clap loudly and watch them all scatter. Thad told one of his jokes in a sermon last week- it went over well, just like his jokes always did. Of course that brings me to thinking about how proud I think he would be of us, for stepping out and planting a church, for the amazing pastor that Thad has become, for the strong a loving community that we're building. I have to believe that he'd be proud of me too- proud of how I've matured, how I've grown, how I've come to take a stand for what I believe in. I think he'd be proud that I've learned to think for myself, how I found myself, and even though I lost balance and love in the process, I found them again- and I think he'd be so incredibly proud of that.



Of course, November brings Thanksgiving- that was always our holiday. Our family didn't celebrate Christmas, so we made Thanksgiving just as big of a deal, gifts and all. Every year dad would wake up before dawn to get the turkey started in the oven, and every year I looked forward to helping him cook. We always made a feast that could have fed fifteen or twenty people, even if it was just the four of us. Even though it looks a little different now without gluten, I still love keeping that tradition alive and cooking Thanksgiving just like he used to. He died exactly a week before Thanksgiving.





Just a couple of weeks before he passed, my sister and I took a trip to Dallas for a dance conference. Before we left my dad took me aside and with all seriousness told me to, "Take care of your sister." I laughed, and he told me again, "I'm serious- you need to take care of your sister." How I've wondered if somehow he knew what was to come in just a few short weeks, and oh the heartbroken tears shed over my inability to keep my promise that I would, in fact, make sure nothing happened to my sister.





But there is redemption. My sister and I have been able to reconnect over the past several months, and I know dad would be so happy about that. Just last week I was making the drive and hour north to visit with her and her two kids. My introverted self was loving the so rare uninterrupted time to ponder- and my fun, music loving self was enjoying turning the radio up loud and introducing my children to classic rock and fine country music. Then it dawned on me- this is why my dad loved driving so much. When we were kids, he'd pile us into the old red bronco and we'd literally drive for hours- him listening to classic rock and us reading books in the back seat. I always thought it was a strange thing to like, a strange way to pass time. I never expected to enjoy long drives like he did, but now I get it. I feel just the same way.





My dad is buried close to where my sister lives, so on our way home I decided to take the kids to see his grave for the first time. Hayden and I had already been talking a lot lately about my dad and how he died. She knows that he got very very sick and died. She knows that his body stopped working, but that his spirit went up to heaven to live with Jesus. She still had some questions when we got there, and I explained to her that since my dad's body stopped working, they put it into a special box and buried it in the ground. He doesn't need it in heaven anyway. I was afraid it would be weird for them to be there with me, but it wasn't. It was very peaceful, and I think Hayden understood pretty well what I was explaining to her. I only wish they had actually gotten to spend time with him. My dad was so good with kids and I know he would have been just crazy about them.

Rest in peace, Dad. We're still here, doing well, and still remembering you. <3

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The Proverbs 31 Woman You Never Knew

This week, I read Half the Church by Carolyn Custis James. I'm not going to go into details about what a total game changer this book is, how much it changed my outlook and inspired me, or how much you should really, really go read it. (Psst- the Kindle edition is still only $1.99.) No, I'm not getting paid to talk about this book- it's just that good.

 


Instead of talking about all that, today I just want to talk about one tiny little point that was mentioned in the book- something that totally grabbed me and inspired me. Today I want to talk about the elusive "Proverbs 31 woman". You know, the famed "Virtuous Woman". Virtuous woman- what does that even mean?

 

 

Dictionary.com says that virtuous means "conforming to moral and ethical principles; morally excellent; upright". I asked the "likers" on the blog's Facebook page what the word "virtuous" made them think of. They came up with words like, honorable, integrity, noble, kind, just, and principled. Two people said that it made them think of someone that has strong convictions and lives up to them. One person said that the word virtuous made her think of the Proverbs 31 woman. Not surprising, considering that most of us know Proverbs 31:10 to say this:


 

"Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies."

 


That's something we all want to be, right? All of those words listed above are definitely things that I want to be true of my life. But what if I told you that the Proverbs 31 woman wasn't actually a "virtuous woman"? What if I told you that when you look at the actual Hebrew words, and not the translator's interpretation of the Hebrew words, this scripture means something totally different?

 

 

The Hebrew word for the word virtuous in Proverbs 31:10 is the word chayil. While virtue is a very good thing, something that we all want to have, and surely even a word that could have been used to describe the Proverbs 31 woman, it's not the word that was used to describe the Proverbs 31 woman. Chayil means something totally different.

 


According to my Blue Letter Bible concordance, the word chayil means strength, might, efficiency, wealth, army, ability, and force. Wow- that's a bit different from the picture I get when I think "virtuous". Chayil is a battle word, used most often to describe the strength of an army in battle. It's most often translated as "army", and is also translated as the words man of valor, host, forces, valiant, strength, riches, wealth, power, and so on.

 


That's quite a different meaning than the meaning of "virtuous", wouldn't you say? I also asked the readers on my Facebook page what things the word valiant brought to their minds, and while some of the answers were similar to what they said for virtuous, they also said things like courageous and fearless. One person said that they thought that a valiant person wouldn't be afraid to be a voice for those that can't advocate for themselves. Another person said the word brought to mind an animated film about a pigeon in a war(fitting, since Biblically this is a battle word), and another told an inspiring story about how her grandmother overcame many hardships in her life. Cool stuff! Dictionary.com says that valiant means "boldly courageous; brave; stout-hearted; marked by or showing bravery or valor; heroic".

 

 

Maybe you're wondering if chayil can't mean both things- maybe it could mean virtuous and valiant/strong/powerful? Not only does chayil's definition not have anything to do with the word virtuous, but get this- chayil is only translated as virtuous when it's being used to describe women. Now I'm no Hebrew expert, but even I know that's awful translating- and it also shows the male bias of the people doing the translating. You don't get to change the meaning of a Hebrew word just because it's being used to describe a woman and not a man. If the original author of this passage, inspired by the Holy Spirit, had wanted to describe the Proverbs 31 woman as virtuous, he could have used a word that meant virtuous. But he didn't! He used a word that means strong, valiant, powerful like an army, and he used it to describe not only a woman, but one of the most esteemed women in the entire Bible.

 

 

So lets read that scripture again, but this time with the proper understanding of the word chayil. I'll try it a couple of different ways, and you can see how these hit you.

"Who can find a valiant woman? for her value is far above rubies."

"Who can find a woman as strong as an army? for her value is above rubies."

"Who can find a mighty woman? for her value is above rubies."

Wow! That's such a different picture! This is definitely the kind of woman that I want to be. This translation brings to mind the famous saying, "Well behaved women seldom make history." It takes a valiant, strong, courageous woman to make history- and those women are to be celebrated!

 

 

The sad thing, of course, is that people, especially church people, tend to be afraid of powerful women. But God says that a valiant, powerful woman is someone to be praised! What if we stopped being afraid of powerful women, and actually started embracing the good that they can bring to the world and the church? What if Godly Christian men accepted, encouraged, supported, and learned from their strong Christian sisters instead of being intimidated by them? What if we raised our daughters with these qualities in mind for their future? What if we stopped telling half the church that they're just supposed to be virtuous, and not also valiant? How much more could be done for the kingdom?

 

 

Women have so much to offer the world and the church. I think it's high time for the church to stop telling women that their only callings and giftings lie in the home and with their children. We're not called to only be virtuous, gentle women- we're also called to be valiant in battle.


 

 

"God is shaking his daughters awake and summoning us to engage. His vision for us is affirming and raises the bar for all of us. We cannot settle for less. We have work to do. There's a kingdom to build, and what we do truly matters. Our compass is fixed on Jesus. We can no longer listen to those who call on us to love him with less than all our heart and soul and strength and mind."

~ Carolyn Custis James, Half the Church, p192.

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To the Boy Who Taught Me How to Love.

Dear son:

When you were born, I had already been married for 4 years and 8 months. I had already been a mother for 21 months. Yet somehow, I had not learned how to love. You were the one that taught me that.

 

Your birth was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. It was one of the most real experiences of my life. I had said that I wanted to be truly present for your birth, truly in the moment, and I was. I can't even explain how incredible your birth was for me- to go through the pain, the struggle, the agony, while fully experiencing all of it, knowing that you were waiting for me at the end. When that pain finally ended, and then you were there- all 8 pounds, 11 ounces, 15 inch head of you- and I had done it! I had never felt so joyful, so accomplished, so empowered. Your birth was the beginning of something wonderful, and not just because you had entered the world, but also because your presence in it would change me forever.

 

Just 6 hours after you were born, we had to take you in to the hospital. Your lungs didn't assimilate the small amount of fluid like they should have, and you were having trouble breathing. They stuck you with a needle several times, put an iv in your head, and put you in a bassinet in the NICU. I was scared. I was disappointed. But I was also numb. I didn't feel bonded to you yet. I would have done anything to protect you, but not because of the bond that we have now, more because I knew in my head that you were my baby and I'd someday fall in love. The bonding that we should have had right after birth was cut short. When they told me that we had to leave you in the NICU, that we weren't allowed in the room with you from 7-8AM, that everyone had to leave, I didn't fight to stay with you. You weren't even 24 hours old yet, and I left you. I regret that, and I'm forever thankful that nothing happened to you while I was gone.

 

When we got to take you home 2 days later, you and I made up for lost time. My midwife told me to climb into bed with you and stay skin to skin for the next week or two, and we did. Those were beautiful days. Oh, the cuddles. I couldn't stop examining you all over. I couldn't stop taking pictures of you. And we bonded.

 

When you were 6 months old, you taught me that not only was this Attachment Parenting stuff healthy for you, but that they were right about babies being people too. You were playing in the playroom, and I wanted you in the living room where I could keep an eye on you. I picked you up to carry you into the living room, and you started to cry! I froze- surely you couldn't be crying because I was taking you out of the playroom? Sure enough- as soon as I put you back, you stopped crying. I was amazed! You were a little person, and even though you couldn't talk or move around much yet, you had your own opinions and desires. From that day, I started to think about what things were like from your perspective, and how I could show you that your perspective was valuable to me too.

 

When you were about 18 months old you taught me even more about that, about respecting your needs and communicating with you. You still couldn't talk much, but you could understand almost everything I said, and I was learning that very quickly. I learned that I could get you to easily go along with things that were unpleasant for you, but necessary, if I would just explain them to you beforehand and coach you through them. It seems so simple to me now, to just treat you with the same consideration that I would anyone else, but at the time that was a very novel concept to me. Your nearly instant positive responses were an excellent teacher.

 

All of these things helped us to form an amazing bond. I knew what made you tick, and like any baby, you were crazy about your momma. But what I never expected was for that bond to grow even deeper as you made your way through your second year. I had chosen to nurse you, of course, just like I had nursed your sister. She and I had a wonderful 15 months of nursing, and the first 15 months of nursing you were much the same. I never expected a surprise to come along after all the experience I already had. I knew from the beginning I wanted to nurse you for longer, to let you self wean when you were ready, but it totally caught me off guard that it was so very much different than what I had already experienced, both with you and your sister.

 

With Hayden, and at first with you, nursing was a bonding experience, but it was also a functional one. You were hungry; I fed you. Simple as that. Yes, it was wonderful, and of course I treasured it, but at the core it was still an act of necessity. Not so as you got older. You tried food for the first time at 9 months old, but by the time you were 18 months you were crazy about it. You were eating everything you could get your hands on! Even so, your favorite thing in the world was still your num nums, and like I had planned, I continued to nurse you. It was so different for me now though. You weren't a baby anymore- you were growing into a boy! You were walking, talking, playing, interacting! You were eating food, and not just bites here and there, but a regular diet! I knew you didn't need to nurse for sustainment anymore. Our nursing relationship was no longer a mainly functional one, but had become an emotional one.

 

It was both strange and exciting for me at first. I had never experienced anything like it before. Not only did I love you as part of my family, as my child, but I was willingly sharing my body with you- not because you needed it to survive, but just because I loved you. That realization, that sharing of such a deeply tangible part of me with another human being began to open my heart in a way that it never had before. I had never shared myself so freely, so deeply before. It was revolutionary for me!

 

 

And then, as things started to fall apart, you taught me once again how to love. You see, as I was growing closer to you, your sister and I were pulling farther and farther apart. We became enemies. I didn't enjoy being around her. I didn't know how to handle her. I didn't know what to do with the angry feelings inside of me when she did something I didn't approve of. They scared me. I started to hate motherhood. That really scared me. I knew something was really, really wrong. I was starting to suspect that it had to do with the discipline method and mindset that I had. Your sister was getting lots of spankings back then.

 

One day I was looking at you and thought about how someday you would get bigger, and I'd have to spank you just like I spanked your sister. I had barely finished the thought when I felt my heart breaking into a million pieces- just at the thought of doing that to you, of violating your trust in me like that! I knew I could never strike you. Then the sobering, life changing truth dropped into my heart- How could I feel that way about you, while at the same time hitting your sister just about every day, sometimes multiple times a day? What had I done?

 

That thought led me on a journey- to grace, to love, to relearning what I knew about parenting, about grace, and about myself. It ultimately led me to gentle discipline, to learning to disciple the two of you, instead of punishing. I began to change the way I interacted with your sister, and the way that I thought about her. I stopped spanking, and started connecting. I learned how to set boundaries without punishing. I learned to start letting go of my fears and my need for control. Just how I had learned to open my heart with you, I began learning how to open it to others too. The bond that I had lost with your sister is being restored. The bond between your dad and me is more real than ever before.

 

Amazingly, as my heart began to open to love, I began to feel God's love more deeply, and in a more real way than I ever had before. For the first time, and after 26 years of following Him, I truly began to understand just how much He truly loves me. I began to truly follow Him, to long for Him, to love Him and allow Him to love me too. Then I understood that this was His plan all along- that He sent you to me to teach me how to love, to teach me how to draw closer to Him. You were just a baby- of course you didn't know what you were doing, how deeply you were changing me. But He knew, and He used you. Because of Him, and because of you, I'm learning how to truly love, and I feel more alive, more real than I ever have before.

 

I don't know if you'll ever understand this impact that you've had on my life, but I'll always be thankful. Thankful for you, the boy that taught me how to love.

 

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket-safe, dark, motionless, airless-it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.

~ C.S. Lewis

 

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Remembering Great Grandma

I'm thousands of feet in the air right now, heading back home to Houston from Charleston, West Virginia. I left my babies for longer than a night for the first time ever, and I can't wait to get back to them!!! At the same time, I'm so grateful to have had the opportunity to take this trip and attend my great grandmother's funeral, and also spend some time with my grandmother.




Fair warning- this post is going to be pretty personal. My great grandmother was a really special person in my life, and I feel the need to share a little bit about her as my own personal tribute. If no one finds it interesting, that's okay. But I do think she had a pretty neat story that you might enjoy, and there are some pretty special five generation photos near the end that I think are pretty cool.





My great grandma, Doris, had such an amazing life story. She was born in 1919, and met my great grandpa, Preston, on a streetcar! They secretly eloped when she was just 19 years old, and didn't even tell anyone they had married until a month later! They were so in love, and it showed, even after decades. When my great grandfather passed away in 2006, they had just celebrated 68 years of marriage, and we're still very much in love. I've always treasured this picture of them from 1938- doesn't it look like it's straight out of a movie?

Doris didn't have an easy life. Her mother passed away when she was a teenager, and she was left to help raise her younger siblings, who she became like a mother to. Her first daughter, my grandmother, went blind at two years old. The first doctor they took her to thought it was cancer and wanted to remove her eyes right away. Doris was smart enough to get a second opinion, and my grandmother's sight eventually recovered. She's struggled with vision issues her whole life, but that's much better than having no eyes at all!





Doris' third daughter, Kathy, was a dwarf. When Kathy was born, the doctors encouraged Doris and Preston to put her in a home for children, as they were sure she wouldn't live longer than 8 years or so. The doctors didn't think it was a good idea to add the burden of a special needs child to the family. Of course, Doris wouldn't stand for that. She and Preston brought their daughter home, got her the care that she needed, and the entire family was better for it. Not only did Kathy live past childhood, but she was one of the happiest people that you could ever meet. She brought so much joy into the lives of everyone she was around. Kathy did a lot of volunteer work with the Meals on Wheels program in Charleston to bring meals to invalids, and won several awards for her charity work. She lived to be 50 years old and touched so many lives- all because her mother believed that her life was valuable and refused to give up on her. That's love! Through all her struggles, Doris clung tightly to her faith and never lost her joy. She would always give thanks and praise to the Lord for helping her through them.



I have so, so many fond memories of my great grandmother. Her house was one of my favorite places in the world. From the big shower that had great acoustics for singing, to the kitchen table where so many wonderful meals were shared, to the attic apartment that had that wonderful, unique smell that I'll never forget- that house was so full of love and fun, and great grandma always did everything she could to make sure that we all felt welcome there. When I was a kid, one of my favorite things to eat was cottage cheese with peaches on top, and she always made sure she had plenty of that when she knew I was coming to visit. She'd also make sure to have a blackberry pie ready when my dad came to visit- those were his absolute favorite! Some of my favorite memories were made in that house. It was really hard to leave today, knowing that it would be the last time I'd ever be there. The house is too big for just one person to live in now, and my grandma plans to sell it.

In 2009 I had the incredible experience of bringing Hayden to Charleston and introducing her to her great-great grandmother. It was so amazing to see them together.

They both used walkers, and Hayden loved to follow Doris around with hers.

It was so neat to see Hayden in the same house where I had made so many memories as a child. Somewhere I have a video of me playing in this same window bed where Hayden is here.

My mom and grandma were both there when Hayden and I were visiting, and we had a photographer come out to the house and take some 5 generation pictures. Would you believe that each daughter here is not only the first child of each mother, but was born when the mother was 22 years old? I couldn't make this up if I tried!

Hayden and her great-great grandmother, at 11.5 months and 90 years old. Aren't they cute together?

 Of course, we took lots of pictures ourselves too, even after the photographer left. This one is one of my favorites- Hayden with her grandmother, her great grandmother, and her great-great grandmother. Can't you just tell they're all crazy about her?

I'll miss my great grandmother so much- I already do! It's hard to believe that after so long, she's finally gone. I do love knowing that she's finally reunited with her dear husband and youngest daughter, and who knows- maybe she's already baked another blackberry pie for my dad by now. I don't know exactly how everything works in heaven, but I'm sure that they're all having a wonderful time up there. One thing I know for sure is that she's not suffering from the terrible pain she endured in the last part of her life anymore, and I know we're all thankful for that.



I love you, grandma! I'm so thankful to have had you in my life, for all the love that you shared, encouragement given, and lessons taught. You'll be sorely missed. Rest in peace. <3

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Just one simple nursing session...

I've got a quick second to sit down at the laptop, and I want to share the coolest breastfeeding story that my grandma shared with me yesterday! Anytime I'm around anyone that knows me at all, they know that breastfeeding is fair game for conversation, so the topic came up without me even saying anything.


A couple of weeks ago, my grandma was at a funeral for someone in her ex husband's family. (In my crazy family, when people divorce, it's not an "I hate you and we're never speaking again" kind of thing, it's more of a "Hey, now that we're not married anymore, we can be great friends!" My grandma and her (now late) ex husband even flew in together to visit us once when we were kids. Silly. Anyway...) At one point during the visitation, her ex-niece (ex husband's sister's daughter- got it?) came up to her and said, "I just have to tell you this story!"


She told about how way back in '64, right after my mom was born, they were all at a family function when my grandma excused herself to another room to go nurse the baby. Her niece, Bonnie, who was just a child at the time, followed her into the room and watched her nurse my mom. My grandma says that she doesn't even remember the interaction, but Bonnie told her that the sight of her nursing the baby was one of the most beautiful things she's ever seen. She said that she and my grandma sat there and chatted for a couple of minutes about breastfeeding.


Then Bonnie told my grandma that that one interaction when she was a child was so meaningful to her that it inspired her to go on to not only nurse all of her children, but to also get certified as a lactation consultant! (I'm not sure what kind, but it doesn't really matter.)


I thought that was just so amazing. Women inspiring women to help other women- it brings tears to my eyes! What my grandma did that day so many years ago didn't seem like a big deal- she doesn't even remember it. But for one little girl, it was enough to inspire her to nurse her own children and make a living out of helping others to do the same. Just one nursing session witnessed by a little girl has sent waves of love and support throughout an entire community! 


So remember- the little acts of love and nurturing that you show to others might not seem like a big deal to you, but you never know when they could be making a world of difference to others. That little word of encouragement you share with another nursing mom might be exactly what she needs to give her the strength to keep going when it gets tough. As women and mothers, lets try to do whatever we can to encourage each other- you never know the long lasting effect it might have!

The Glorious Body

Ecclesiastes 7:1
A good name is better than precious ointment; and the day of death than the day of one's birth.

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That scripture sums up a big question I've had for some time now- you know the kind- a big inconsistency that just knaws at your soul until you figure it out. Something that just doesn't make sense. I finally got an answer, and it's been totally transformative for me.


Okay, so in church I've been taught a number of things about the "flesh". That it's bad. Flesh is bad, spirit is good. Feed your spirit and starve your flesh so that you can grow closer to God. Then there's the famous: "You are a spirit, you have a soul, you live in a body"- as if the body was no more important than a set of clothes or a car to drive in.


Those things all make sense on some level. Of course our sin nature is not something good or something to indulge. But the more experiences I've had in life, the less I've resonated with the above statements, and I couldn't figure out why.


If the body is something bad, or at least inconsequential, then why is my own experience telling me that physical things are extremely important? I look back on Tristan's birth as one of the single most empowering, life altering experiences of my life. But why? Why is something as inherently physical as birth so transformative? I'm not the only one that's had that kind of experience. I haven't written about this yet, but the experience of breastfeeding Tristan, especially as he's gotten older, has caused me to do some deep introspection and has altered the way that I experience relationships as a whole. Why would something as physical as breastfeeding affect my soul so deeply and teach me so much about myself? Why is there something magical about the touch of human skin on human skin? On the flip side of the coin- why can physical violations be so soul shattering? Why can an assault against the physical body be so emotionally, mentally, and psychologically damaging?

These were questions that were haunting me- and yet they were so deep within my soul that I hadn't even given voice to them. And you know how the Lord has that wonderful way of answering before we even ask for something? Out of the blue one Sunday, during the sermon at church, my eyes were opened and I saw clearly the answer to these nagging inconsistencies.



The message was titled, "Heaven: A Land That You Know." It began with a C.S. Lewis quote:

“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”


Then Thad talked about some of the common misconceptions of what heaven might be like. One common one has been that we'd be floating around on a cloud playing a harp all day long. That doesn't sound like fun to me. Cloud floating is not an innate desire that we all have- but if heaven is real then shouldn't we find within ourselves a God given desire for it? Other people have said that we'll just be worshiping 24/7, like a perpetual church service. Church is often amazing, but that's honestly not something anyone wants to do forever and ever. Some people speculate that we'll all just be spirits floating around up there.



And that's when it really started to get real. He went on to explain that heaven will be a physical place, referencing the scriptures about the New Jerusalem. Then he talked about the 7 dwelling places of God over time:


1. Garden of Eden
2. The Tabernacle
3. The Temple
4. Jesus
5. The church (as in His spirit dwelling in us)
6. The re-built temple(future)
7. Eternity/A return to the Garden of Eden


The point was that each of those have been a physical dwelling place, and that heaven will be an actual physical place. We'll have physical bodies there. We'll know each other and have relationships with other people- but in such a deep way that we can't even imagine it now.


Then he went to the scripture I quoted at the very beginning of this post- it says that the day of one's death is greater than the day of birth. Gosh, that threw me. As someone who knows firsthand just how glorious birth can be- and then to say that death is even greater? How can that be???


Then it hit me. God is physical. God created it that way. Not just as a default for the time we're on earth. We're physical beings just as much as we're spiritual beings. Yes, God is a spirit, but He's Father, Son and Holy Ghost- and Jesus is a physical body!!! When He created Adam and Eve, and put them in the only perfect place this world has seen, he put them in a garden! It doesn't get much more tangible than that. A garden- what greater place could there be to see growth and life and birth??? And get this- they were naked. And they weren't ashamed. There was nothing shameful about their bodies- it was just them, who they were. It wasn't until after the fall that the body started to be covered up.


So that's what I'm figuring out- that our bodies are not something inherently bad. Yes, we all have a sin nature, but that's only because of the fall. Our bodies were initially created to be something glorious. And when we get to heaven, our bodies aren't done away with. We don't become purely spiritual beings. When we get to heaven, we trade our fallen bodies for a glorified body- a perfect body not under the curse of sin!!!


That's how the day of death can be greater than the day of birth- because we'll finally be complete. Not because we leave behind our physical body, but because it's glorified. We'll finally be in the perfect place, with perfect physical bodies. We'll have a pure spirit, soul, and body for the first time ever, and we'll be able exist fully, completely for the first time.


This is why our physical experiences here on earth can be so incredibly life changing! It's not a weird thing that happens even though our bodies are "sinful"- it's exactly how God created it to be! God made us to experience things physically. It's His plan. And I believe that when we follow the design of how He created our bodies to work as closely as we can, we see more of Him. The closer we can follow the design that he created, and respect the way that our bodies were intended to be used, the greater potential for a positive, spiritual, transformative experience. I know for me personally, my home birth was the closest thing to a supernatural experience I've ever had. That's not an anomaly- it's exactly how He designed it.


He designed us to have physical experiences. He intended for the soft touch of skin on skin to be comforting. He intended for perfect musical harmonies to be able to touch our soul and remind us of Him. He intended for a beautiful sunset to inspire us. He intended for a husband and a wife to know each other in a deep, intimate, physical way- and for that to be simultaneously physical and spiritual. He intended for not just babies, but mothers to be born through the act of childbirth. He intended for the inherently physical, tangible act of breastfeeding to affect both our bodies and our souls. And He intends for us to live with him in eternity- in a glorified, perfect, physical state!

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A Lesson in Spilled Milk

Ever had one of those moments when your innocent child teaches you so much about life that it just astounds you?

The other day, I was in the middle of serving lunch when Hayden accidentally spilled some of her milk. In true four year old fashion, she started to melt down over it. In her world, this was a big deal! Now she wouldn't have any milk to drink, there was milk all over the table where she was trying to eat, and lunch was generally ruined. Definitely worth a big freakout. In my own shortcoming, I was getting frustrated with the over the top reactions to everything, but then I had an idea that I thought might help. I called her over into the kitchen where I was, calmed her down a little bit, and then said, "Can I ask you a question?" She agreed, so I said, "Have you ever had a problem that I couldn't fix for you?" She shook her head no. Then I said, "Watch this!" I took her cup and handed her a dish rag. I wiped off her cup and refilled it while she wiped down the table. Everything was good as new! 

Photo Credit

I called her over to me again, and said, "Did you see how I fixed that for you? It's all good as new now, right?" She nodded, and I continued, "So see, whenever you have a problem, you don't always have to freak out and start crying. If you just remember that I can help you when you have a problem, you can come ask me for help and I'll help you fix it, okay?" 

Before I even got the words out of my mouth, I could feel that nudge in my heart, reminding me that my Heavenly Father is saying the same thing to me. How many times do I encounter a problem and throw myself straight into a grownup freak out fit, not remembering that if I would just ask Him, He would take care of it for me? I could almost hear Him saying, "Have you ever had a problem that I couldn't fix for you?" Of course not! Even in the middle of my biggest, most cry-myself-to-sleep, life altering problems, He's been right there with me and has seen me through. Of course He's more than able to fix any problem for me- often in a way that I never could have imagined myself. So why do I find it so hard to remember to trust first in Him, instead of imagining the multitude of ways that my life could go wrong? 

Maybe this little reminder was more for me than it was for her. 

This is Not the Life I Wanted- Or Is It?

Growing up in a fundie-lite home, I heard lots of interesting things about women. I was taught that women were subordinate to men, and that a woman's place was at home, with the children, preferably homeschooling them. ("Woman! Make me a sammich!") My mom dropped out of college 4 credits short of her associates degree to marry my dad. There were not many (any?) messages about strong, confident women or how women could choose careers and have a life outside the home. My mom even went so far as to tell me that women that work in the corporate world are unhappy because God's will is for them to be at home with their families, not working. (!!!)  I was never given the freedom to explore my options and choose which one was best for me. I was never told that it was an option to be something instead of or in addition to being a wife and a mother.

So, needless to say, I didn't have any grand dreams or aspirations for my future. When someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I'd say that I wanted to be a mother. By the time I graduated high school, I was pretty deeply involved with my boyfriend at the time, who would later be my husband. I had no interest at all in going to college. I didn't see the point! I loved Thad, and I knew we were going to get married. If we were going to get married, and I was going to be a wife and mom at some point in the near future, why did I need to go to college??? My dad basically forced me to go- he said that if I wanted to continue to live under his roof, I'd at least need to take some courses at the community college. I'm SO glad that he did. It was just a couple of courses at the local college, but I absolutely loved it. I thrive on learning, and I had no idea that college could be so fun and empowering! That was my first experience in a classroom setting- up until then I'd been exclusively homeschooled, from day one all the way until my high school graduation. I got A's in every class but one(and could have gotten an A in that class too, but I was distracted by grieving my dad's death while planning my wedding- I'm going to give myself a pass on that one.) and felt so proud of myself.





I completed two semesters at the community college, and then got married. Ah, yes- that's what I had been waiting for! Now my dreams of being a wife and mom could come true! I didn't go back to school that next semester- there was no need now that I was a wife. I threw myself into the marriage- to "submitting and supporting". When the kids came along, I then became a full time mother. And you know what? I was miserable. This wonderful dream that had been placed in my head since the day I was a child wasn't so dreamy after all. I felt stuck. Stifled. My husband is an idea man, and is constantly coming up with new ideas and schemes that he gets really excited about. And as a "good wife", it was my job to support him- no questions asked! I tried to do my best, but deep down I really didn't like a lot of his ideas. (Sorry, honey!) And even though I was trying really hard, because I knew it was the "right" thing to do, I wasn't very good at supporting him.





Same thing with motherhood. I knew it was right and "Godly" for me to be at home with my kids. But I wondered why, if that was true, did I feel so miserable? Why did I feel so stuck? Why wasn't I enjoying the time that I was spending with them? Why did I find myself dreaming of using my brain again, and doing something that challenged me intellectually? If what I was doing was exactly what God wanted me to do, then why did I feel so miserable in the very core of my being?





It took a while, but I finally found the answers to those questions. My value does not lie exclusively in my wifehood or motherhood. I have purpose and meaning outside of those relationships. God did not give me a brain and intend for me not to use it. God did not command women to exclusively stay at home and raise children. As I learned these things and my mind and heart were opened, I got so excited!!! I could do and be so much more than I had anticipated! I could go back to school if I wanted to! I could work outside the home if I wanted to! I could do or be whatever I wanted to be! For the first time in my life, I realized that I could dream outside of the home, outside of the box I had been placed in when I was born and they discovered that I was a girl.





And I do have dreams. The one that I'm closest to right now is to become a doula, and be with women as they give birth- and I'm slowly working towards that goal, and it's so exciting! I have other dreams too, although they're in the more distant future. But it makes my heart happy just to have them there, and to know that they're possible. Just to know that I can dream, and that it's okay for me to dream of someday doing big things is so empowering for me. But for right now, I'm still at home, raising my babies and supporting my husband as he plants a church. That's right, I'm doing exactly the same thing that I was doing before. As much as it sounds appealing to me, I don't have a job outside the home. I'm not going to school. My children need me at home right now, while they're young, and my husband needs me at home supporting him while he's working endless hours planting a church.





I'm doing exactly what I was doing before, but now I'm content, because I'm living a life that I intentionally chose for myself.







I'm not at home because someone told me that I had to be. You see, family and motherhood was always truly a part of my heart- and always will be. Much of the things that I apsire to have to do with helping mothers and families, and I'm excited about that. The problem wasn't that I didn't want to be a wife or mother- it was that I was never given the opportunity to choose between that and something else, or that AND something else. Because of the messages I received as a girl, I belived that family was the only acceptable path for me. I believed that God didn't want me to do anything more than be a wife or mom, and that's why I made the "choices" that I made- and really, they weren't even choices. I didn't see any other options- not if I wanted to be pleasing to God.




Now, I'm home because I've chosen to be. I've looked at the situation, at my dreams and goals, at my husband's dreams and goals, and the needs of our family, and I've made the decision that makes the most sense for all of us. We're a team, and we work together. I love being home with my kids- because that's where I've chosen to be. I'm choosing a season of sacrifice because I know it's best for them, and I truly am enjoying it. It's an honor to be the person that cares for and raises my children, and I know that the way that I treat them will have a lifelong impact on them. That's something I take very seriously! If by giving selflessly I can have a positive impact on the rest of their lives, then I am more than happy to make that my focus. I love them with all of my heart and I want what's best for them! Of course, there are hard days and I need breaks every once in a while, but that's true of any job. But in the big picture, and in the bottom of my heart, I'm so thankful to be staying home and enjoying this time with my kids.

Now, I'm supporting my husband not because I feel like I have to, but because I love him and believe in him! He is an amazing pastor and preacher, and I believe in him 100%. I know that he's called to do what he's doing, and it's so amazing to see how many lives he's been able to influence for good. Our church celebrated our first year this week, and you should have heard the sermon that he preached. He totally knocked it out of the park, and I was so, so proud of him. I'm happy to do what I do so that he can focus on what he's really good at. I'm now supporting him because I believe in him, not because I have to. And isn't that so much better in the end? Who would want love and support out of obligation? True love isn't possible unless you also have a choice not to love. Isn't that why God gave us free will- because He wanted us to choose to love him? The same thing applies in our earthly relationships too. God didn't intend for any of us to be stuck, without a choice in our own lives.

I've made a choice to love. I've made a choice to sacrifice. And even though from an outsider's perspective it might look like I'm doing exactly the same things, for me it's so much different now. My love for my family is so much more genuine now. When I give of myself to them, I'm truly giving of myself- because I now know that I have a choice not to. I feel so much more content in this season of being a stay at home mom now that it's something I've chosen to do, instead of something that someone told me that I had to do. 








Have you ever found yourself living a life that someone else chose for you? What did you do about it? 

New Year's Resolutions- 6 months in.

Like so many other people, I made some New Year's Resolutions back in January. I'm not sure what traditional New Year's Resolutions look like, but my resolutions looked more like more like a list of things that I wanted to improve on or accomplish this year. Since the year's halfway over, I thought I'd take a look at how I'm doing and what I need to focus on for the rest of the year. I'll be sharing most of my resolutions here, but of course a couple of them are private, and I'll be keeping them that way.



*Formulate, perfect, and habitualize a daily routine/schedule.
       
           Not doing so good with this one, which is a bummer because I intended for this to be the main thing that I focused on this year. I grew up with little to no routine, so it's never been a given in my life. On top of that, Thad and I have almost always had jobs that weren't normal 9-5 jobs, so I've never really had to settle into that "normal", "adult" routine that most people have. And I'm ok with that. However, I know my personality, and that I absolutely thrive on structure, and I think I'd do really well with a routine, and that I'd be able to manage my time better. I especially want to have this at least somewhat nailed down before Hayden gets to school age. Whether we're homeschooling or doing something else, we're going to need to work some kind of routine.


Finding a routine that works well for us, and making it a habit. I've been trying to do this for several years now, and I'm still not where I'd like to be. I am making progress though, and I'm going to give myself credit for that. Life is also very much in a state of limbo right now though, and much of the time I'm just trying to hang in there. So I'm not going to come down to hard on myself for this. But I would like to see more progress on this one before the end of the year, so I'm going to make sure this keeps a spot on my priority list.



*Journal daily. 

           Check! At the end of last year I bought a 10 year journal. It is seriously one of the coolest things I've ever seen. It has a page for each day of the year, and on each page it has 4 lines, one for each of 10 years. So on January 1 of this year, I wrote 4 lines on page 1. On January 1 of next year, I'll write the next 4 lines on page 1, and be able to look back and see what I was doing on January 1 of this year. It's like an "on this day in history", but for your own life. SO cool! I'm such a sentimental person, so to have an account of what I was doing or thinking on every single day for 10 years, all in one book, is just so cool to me. And who doesn't have time to write 4 lines a day? So doable. So, yes, I've been journaling every day, and loving it!



*Exercise regularly

            Check! I wasn't exercising at all at the end of last year, and I was feeling pretty blah and overweight. I started out the year with a 6 week weight loss contest(which I came in second place in, thank you very much!), and then fell off the wagon a little bit after that. But then in March, we started doing CrossFit! Let me tell you, I am absolutely, 100% in LOVE with CrossFit. It's the best, most exciting, most effective exercise I've ever done, and it's just plain awesome. I'll be posting more about it soon.



*Ease into GAPS

            Yeah, check. My plan was to sloooowly work my way into doing GAPS. My goal for January was to read the GAPS book. I figured I'd spend February planning and looking into recipes and meal plans, I'd spend March trying out a couple of recipes and looking into better food sources, and maybe by April or May I'd be ready to give GAPS a try. Yeah, that's not exactly what happened. I started reading the GAPS book, and lightbulbs were going off in my head on every other page. It was like my entire medical history was being explained and tied together for the first time. I knew that this was going to be my answer, I knew that this diet was going to help me, and I didn't want to wait any longer. By the end of January, I was eating the (full) GAPS diet. You know the story- it's helped me incredibly! If I don't accomplish anything else this year, the incredible steps forward I've made with my health are enough to celebrate!



*Increase Bible reading

           I'm going to be honest. I haven't been doing as well with this one as I'd hoped. I've got a semi-complicated spiritual history that I'll probably share a bit about one day, and some of the things I've experienced made it hard for a while for me to read the Bible, even while knowing how important and life giving the scriptures are. It's still difficult for me at times, but my heart has healed enough that I'm able to read the Bible and come away with positives, instead of being blinded by the bad memories. I don't want to feel like I'm forcing myself to read the Bible, but at the same time, there's really no good excuse for why I'm not doing that more. Definitely going to focus on this one for the rest of the year as well. I've been feeling drawn to the Psalms lately, and I enjoyed reading some this morning. I'm going to stay in that book for a while, I think.



*Read more books

         This one's a bit of a toss up. I started out the year strong, and then kind of fell off the wagon. I've been trying to focus the little free time that I have on blogging. Well, that and vegging out on the couch. Thad got me an iPad near the beginning of the year, and so it's been really easy for me to spend relax time reading on the internet instead of reading a book. I need to try to remember how much I enjoy reading, and that I can relax with a good book too. But still- I'm pretty sure I've already read more books this year than I did last year, so that's definitely a success. Bonus- I'm now able to keep track of books read in the back of my 10 year journal!



* Review and set monthly goals

          Um, yeah. Not happening. This was supposed to be so I could keep constant track of my goals for the year and how I was coming along. I'm pretty sure I didn't even do this for February. Can you say overachiever? I'm not even going to count this as a fail- I'm just going to laugh at the fact that I even included it.



*Integrate body, soul, and spirit

           It's ironic, because I added this one at the last minute, but this has been one of my mottoes for this year. To me, this is about remembering to be mindful of each area of my life, body, soul, and spirit. I shouldn't exclude any one of those in my efforts to grow and become a better person. I've spent a lot of time this year meditating on how these three parts of a person are intertwined and how they interact with and effect each other. I can't expect to be able to neglect any one of these parts of myself and see the other parts thrive. They're all a vital part of who I am, and they all need to be healthy and functioning. I'll be sharing more about that soon, too.



*Take steps toward becoming a doula

          I added this one at the last minute too! I actually didn't even start thinking about this until New Year's Day, when I was sitting in church listening to an inspiring sermon, and I realized that I should be taking advantage of this time while I'm home with the kids to prepare to be a doula! I got out a mason jar, wrote "Doula Fund" on it, and started saving my pennies, and about a month ago officially started studying to get certified as a birth doula! I'm so excited about taking real steps toward this.




I'm doing better than I thought I was! I was a little nervous to pull out my resolutions list- I thought for sure I'd be falling short on most of them. It was actually really encouraging to see that I've at least made progress in just about every point! This gives me more motivation to keep trying and keep improving.








What about you? Are you still working on resolutions or goals from the beginning of the year? How is that going? Even if you're not the organized type and don't have a list- what personal goals have you reached sofar this year, or in what ways have you improved? I'd love to hear about them. 

The ordinary miracle: More thoughts on Arden's birth.

For about three years now, I've known that I'm supposed to work with birth. That's one reason I was so, so excited to attend Arden's birth. But as Thad came to pick me up from Jessica's house and we drove away, I was really surprised by how I felt. I thought I was going to have this euphoric, other-worldly feeling, and I didn't. I was happy, but I mostly felt tired. And hungry. I came home, cooked up some bacon and eggs(at 1AM) and stuffed myself silly, and then fell right into bed and crashed. I wondered if the lack of the euphoria that I had expected meant that I wasn't really called to birth work after all? I was too tired to really think about it much.

 

 

The next morning, however, was very different. I literally couldn't think about anything else. The fact that I had just witnessed, for the first time, a human life being brought into the world, totally consumed my thoughts and I knew I needed to process. I turned on a movie for the kids, and went into Hayden's room to get some quiet time. I turned on Sarah McLachlan's Ordinary Miracle, and just cried. I wrote out a whole page of thoughts and feelings. It felt really good to get it all out.

 

 

I wonder if it's like this for birth workers after every birth? Do you ever get used to it? Do you have to take time to process after every birth? Birth is so miraculous, and for most people, it's something they only get to experience a couple of times in their lifetime. What must it be like to be a witness and an assistant to the miraculous on a regular basis? Does that change your outlook on life? Does that change your attitude, your interactions, your choices?

 

 

That song, Ordinary Miracle, was one of the ones that Jessica chose for her labor playlist. She said that was a perfect song because it so perfectly describes the birth experience- both ordinary and miraculous. I couldn't agree more. Birth is miraculous- a brand new human being that never existed before is brough into the world, and a mother is made out of the woman that used to stand in her place. But birth is also very normal- it's simply a part of life that's been happening ever since humans have been around. Man and woman come together, a baby is created, and a new life comes into the world. It's the circle of life.

 

 

Isn't it remarkable?

Like every time a raindrop falls

It's just another ordinary miracle today.

 

 

I think that's the one thing that stood out to me most about Arden's birth- how perfecly normal it was. The house was so peaceful and buzzing with life. Jessica's older two daughters were baking in the kitchen. All the adults were talking and laughing between contractions. At one point, Jessica's oldest got ready and left to go teach a ballet class. There was no fear, no worries, no drama. Just a loving family ready to welcome a new member. As the video feed was turned on later on in the labor, several viewers commented that they thought it was so cool that Jessica's older daughters were there as their mom labored. Honestly, until they mentioned that, it hadn't even crossed my mind that that's something different than what a lot of people have. It seemed so normal to me to have them there. It seemed so normal to them that they were there. They were just there, helping, waiting, playing on my ipad. ;)


 

 

It was the same after the baby was born. Jessica's second daughter was the one one in there for the actual birth(Arden came out so quickly that the first and third daughters missed it- so sad!), but afterwards they all gathered around to meet their new sister. Seeing the family bonding together was so incredibly sweet! At one point, Jessica's third daughter asked if she could hold the baby. Jessica asked her to take her shirt off first so that she could be skin to skin with Arden. It brought tears to my eyes to see the sisters bonding that way.

 

 

After the placenta came out, the midwife examined it to make sure all the parts were there and that everything looked okay. The placenta- again, while it's not something you see every day, it's perfectly normal! Jessica's girls gathered around as the midwife examined the placenta, and she gave them(and me!) a mini lesson on the placenta. She showed us all of the different parts, the fetal side, the maternal side, and the amniotic sac. She even pulled the sac apart and showed how the it's two different sections- amnion and chorion. I had never seen that before, and it was just so cool. I've always been fascinated by the placenta, and this was the first time I've gotten to see one up close. I'd bet people really would have commented if they had seen Jessica's daughters examining the placenta up close, but the camera had been turned off by then. Shortly after, Jessica and Arden went to take an herbal bath in the birth pool. (Side note: herbal baths after giving birth are the. best.) The whole family was gathered around- there was no uncomfortableness with the nudity involved, just excitement about the new baby. Jessica's oldest even came over and put her hair up so that it wouldn't get wet. I dunno about your family, but that wouldn't have been normal or comfortable in the family I grew up in. It was so refreshing to see a family that was so comfortable in their skin, so comfortable with each other, and so comfortable with birth. The whole experience was incredibly miraculous, and yet also incredibly normal. The combination of the two was just breathtakingly beautiful. Definitely a memory I'll keep with me forever.

 

 

Do you agree that "Ordinary Miracle" is a very fitting description for birth? Has that been your experience too? If you're a birth worker, did you ever get "used to" experiencing the miraculous on a regular basis? Has that changed the way you experience the rest of your life?

 

Why am I so passionate about real food?

"Why is this all such a big deal to you? You didn't used to eat like this."

 

My father in law asked me that a little while back. He's right- I didn't used to eat like this. Ever heard of the S.A.D.- the Standard American Diet? That's what I ate growing up. Fast food (still remember those off menu cheese sticks from Long John Silvers), biscuits from a can, fried bologna sandwiches on white bread, Kraft mac'n'cheese from the orange box, and Lay's potato chips with onion dip. You name it, we ate it. The nutritional value of the foods we were eating never really factored into the equation. It just wasn't something that was discussed or talked about.

 

 

It's ironic, really, because my parents were outside of the mainstream in many ways. My sister and I weren't vaccinated. My mom breastfed back in the 80's when it wasn't as popular as it is today. We were homeschooled. I even remember, as a teen, my dad explaining to me that he believed that the unhealthy American diet was responsible for the drastic rise in chronic disease and infertility over the past several decades. The truth was right there, so close, but somehow it never made it's way all the way into action.

 

 

My dad is the reason I'm so passionate about eating real food and feeding it to my family. He passed away at only 39 years old, when my sister and I were still teens. He was morbidly obese, and died in his sleep one night due to an enlarged heart. He weighed about 350 lbs when he died, and that was after losing about 300. We had no idea that he was in trouble or that his heart was enlarged. I never got to say goodbye. I just woke up one morning and he was gone.

 

 

I wrote this back in April and shared it on my facebook wall, on what would have been my dad's birthday:

 

Do you think that what you eat doesn't really matter? Or maybe you're meaning to start eating healthier, but you keep putting it off? Can't seem to make time for exercise? Think it's all not really a big deal? When you see me talking about cleaning up my diet, do you think I've taken it just a little too far? When I tell you I don't feed my kids sugar or grains, do you really think I've gone off the deep end??? Does it make you uncomfortable when you hear about the risks of eating fake food and not exercising? Are you feeling uncomfortable right now, reading this status?

Good. I hope you are feeling uncomfortable. I hope you're feeling uncomfortable enough to DO something about it. Because you know what else is uncomfortable? Missing your dad. Watching his favorite team win the NCAA championship without him. Knowing you'll never get to introduce your kids to him, at least not this side of heaven. My dad should be turning 47 today. But instead we lost him to obesity at the too-young age of 39.

Please don't make the same mistake. Please don't think that it doesn't matter, that it won't happen to you, that you have plenty of time left. Your family needs you. Please honor my dad today and think about what kind of changes you can make to be healthier. You don't have to change it all at once. Take baby steps. Do a couple of things at a time. But please, don't keep putting it off. Do it for you, do it for me, do it for your family.

Does that seem shomewhat inappropriate? Would it still feel inappropriate if my dad had died from lung cancer, and I was pleading with you to stop smoking? What if he had died in an auto accident, and I was spreading the word about how seatbelts and car seats save lives? Would it be ok for me to spread those message? Why is it different just because I'm talking about food? Fake food kills. Obesity kills. And I'm going to keep sharing that message with as many people as I can.

 

 

I don't say all of this to defame my dad. He was amazing in many ways. I could go on and on about all of his good qualities and things that he taught me. But today I'm sharing the source of my inspiration, and hoping that maybe you're feeling inspired too. I don't want to just remember the good about my dad. I also want to remember the ways that he fell short- not so that I can be bitter about them, but so that I can learn from his mistakes and hopefully not make the same ones. I do what I do in honor of his memory- not to defame it.

 

 

So this is why I'm so passionate about real food. There are other reasons, and I'm sure I'll talk about them later. But my dad is one of the main reasons I eat the way that I do. I never, never want to get so unhealthy that I'm in danger of leaving my kids without a parent. Sure, I could die at any time in a freak accident. But if that doesn't happen, I want to be the best steward that I can of the body and the life that I've been given. I'm not just going to sit back and say, "Meh- it doesn't really matter what I eat." Because it does matter. If it didn't matter, my dad would likely still be with us today. And I'm not going to make that same mistake.

 

My experience at baby Arden's birth!

This April, I had the incredible honor of being present at a friend's homebirth. You might have heard of my friend, Jessica from The Leaky B@@b. We don't know each other very well(better now!), and yet she asked me to be there with her as she gave birth, to facilitate the live chat and video that she wanted to have running as she labored and birthed. I'm pretty sure my jaw dropped all the way to the floor when she asked me! If you know me at all, you know that I'm super passionate about birth and dream of being a midwife someday, so to have the opportunity to be at a birth without having to wait until I'm finished with all the training I'll need was a dream come true for me. And then to have it be the birth of someone that's making waves in the breastfeeding world, that has built the largest interactive breastfeeding support community on facebook(over 53,000 people now!), and a woman that I truly admire- let's just say I was humbled, honored, and excited for the opportunity.

 

 

Jessica decided that she wanted to have a live video stream running on her blog as she gave birth. Why in the world would she choose to share such an intimate moment live for anyone to view? Stated simply, to normalize birth and to empower women. Of course, I'm all for that! Jessica told me that she has learned so much and felt so empowered by the birth videos that she had watched years ago, and that she wanted to pass that experience on and hopefully empower others. I think she did that and more, and it was so, so amazing to watch.

 

 

Jessica contacted me around 10AM on Thursday, April 19th. Of course, you never know when someone is going to go into labor, but this birth worked out pretty much perfectly for me. SInce we only have one car, and Thad works so much(sometimes across town), I had several contingency plans in place. Thankfully I didn't have to use any of them- when I got the message from Jessica, Thad was already at home, with no big plans for the day! I was able to quickly throw some stuff together and we headed out the door. I was so, so excited, and a little nervous too. I knew I had a lot of responsibility on my shoulders, and I didn't want to screw it up! I said a quick prayer that I'd be able to do everything that Jessica wanted me to do, and that I'd be a good representative of her heart in sharing the birth and that I wouldn't do anything to damage The Leaky B@@b's good reputation!

 

 

Jessica's house is about an hour from mine, but by the time I got over there she was still in early labor. The Piano Man(Jessica's husband) got me started on the live chat that he had just set up. Within minutes there were several hundred people! We couldn't believe how fast they were showing up! So much love and so many well wishes for Jessica and her family. If it wasn't obvious before that this woman has touched many lives, there's no doubt now. The comments were just pouring in, both on the live chat and The Leaky B@@b facebook wall. Jessica didn't want the live video feed turned on until closer to delivery, but her friend Sue took some short videos of Jessica and The Piano Man dancing through contractions. Everyone loved it- they were just eating up each picture and video.

 

 

The atmosphere in the house was so peaceful in those early labor hours. Everyone was calm and relaxed, and Jessica had the most wonderful labor playlist turned up loud. Every time she'd have a contraction she'd stand in the middle of the living room, and sway and sing with the music. When the contraction got intense, she'd call for The Piano Man and he'd dance with her or press on her hips. You could see the love flowing through them as they gazed into each others eyes- it was truly idyllic. Whenver Jessica would get a contraction, she'd call out, "Tell me", and The Piano Man would reply, "I love you". So, so sweet.

 

 

After a little while, Jessica's midwife showed up, along with her birth photographer. So, besides family, there were four of us there- Jessica's midwife, Cathy Rude; Jessica's friend and nurse that helped her so much with the ivs and everything needed for HG, Sue Potts; the birth photographer(so sorry I don't remember her name), and me. We were all just waiting! I've never been to a birth before, so I was a little curious as to what it would be like waiting around for the baby to come. I was there for over 12 hours total, but it really didn't seem like that long. The live chat and TLB facebook page kept me really busy. The downside of the program that we were using to host the chat and video was that I had to individually approve each and every comment. It was a total pain in the neck, both for me and the commenters!

 

 

After several hours, and after having the midwife break her water, Jessica decided to turn the camera on. All the viewers were totally thrilled about that! Questions and comments were pouring in! Everyone wanted to know who was who- they even asked me to step in front of the camera and wave. I'm pretty introverted, so I was very happy to hide in the corner out of view of the camera, but I did indulge their requests and gave a little wave. Everyone was so excited about that- I was just surprised that anyone cared! It still seemed surreal that there were so many people watching live. Jessica and The Piano Man were still doing the "Tell me", "I love you" routine with just about every contraction. Several viewers said that it was so sweet they were tearing up! Everyone was commenting about how supportive The Piano Man was, and how they wish he could give labor partner lessons to their husbands! He really did do an amazing job, and I'm blessed to say that I know the feeling, as Thad was also incredibly supportive during my two births. It really does make a huge difference to have the person that you love most be right there cheering you through the whole time.

 

If I remember right, the camera was on for about half an hour, but then Jessica's labor stalled a bit around 5 cms, so the camera was turned back off. She tried nipple stimulation with a pump, relaxed in the bath for a bit, and tried some different positions to encourage the baby to descend. The viewers weren't deterred by the break in the live video feed though. There were still about 16,000 people on the live chat, and the comments were literally coming in faster than I could approve them. I kept apologizing that I wasn't able to get to everyone's comments! I was pretty tired by that point, and my butt was going numb. I was trying not to let myself think any of those thoughts, because I knew that Jessica was in a lot more uncomfortable than I was! I finally decided that it would be wise to take a break while Jessica was in the bath and the camera was turned off. I didn't want to leave 16,000 people, but I had already been on the computer for around 8 hours, and I knew I should get a little rest before the baby really started coming. I sat in the living room and just relaxed for a couple of minutes and chatted with the birth photographer. I realized I was STARVING!!! (Next time I go to a birth, I'm definitely bringing more snacks.) I'm so thankful that Sue was willing to stop and get me some Larabars while she was out picking up something for the birth pool. Thank you Sue!

 

 

Whatever Jessica and her midwife did to encourage things along worked, because after an hour or two they headed back into the bedroom and turned the camera back on. I tucked myself into the corner of the room with Jessica's laptop and resumed chatting. To say that everyone was excited is an understatement. The number of people viewing the live chat was pushing 18,000 by that point! Amazing! I wish I had gotten a couple of screen shots, but it totally slipped my mind. (And my only regret of the whole thing is that I didn't get a picture of me and Jessica! Oh well.)

 

 

Jessica labored for a little while on the bed again, and then she started getting pushy! The viewers noticed immediately and started commenting. "Was that a push I heard?" "She sounds pushy!" Jessica was on her hands and knees on the bed, facing the camera and the side of the room where I was. She started to give a big push, and the midwife said something like, "Oh, here she comes, there's the head!" I was thinking she probably still had a little ways to go, and several more pushes before the baby was actually born. I started to get up really slowly, thinking maybe I should go see the baby crowning. No such luck- by the time I had gotten off the floor, I saw a baby on the bed! I couldn't believe how fast she came out!!! Jessica sat back on the bed, ripped her dress off(I don't think I've ever seen anyone move so fast!), and pulled her baby to her chest. I don't know if everyone else did, but I started tearing up! I'd dare say there's nothing more amazing in this world than seeing a baby being born into it.

 

 

Baby Arden started to pink up right away- she had amazing color. All the family gathered around to meet the new baby and start the bonding process. It brought back such wonderful memories from Tristan's birth. After a minute, I composed myself, and got back on the laptop to continue approving comments and make the birth announcement on TLB facebook page. Within minutes, the post had over 1,000 likes, and has nearly 6,000 likes today. So much love for this wonderful momma and her family. Jessica and The Piano Man announced the name that they chose for their little Sugarbaby- Arden Credence, which means passionate belief. I don't think any baby born into this family has much chance of not being passionate about something! ;) Arden latched on right away and did great with nursing! Again, I don't think she had much of an option there!

 

 

 

I was excited going into this, but I honestly wasn't sure what to expect, and definitely didn't know how deeply I'd be moved. But Arden's birth was inspiring to me on so many levels. I loved getting to meet Jessica's family and get a little taste of their life. It was so obvious that their home and family are just full of love, and I so enjoyed getting to watch them all interact. This is a family that's committed to each other, that's serious about what they believe in, and that's ready and willing to share their love with the world. It's so cool to know that families like this really exist, and I hope and pray that my own family can emulate them in some way. It was also so amazing to see how many thousands of people were moved and inspired as the watched the birth. To know that I played a role in sharing that with them is just incredibly humbling. As far as the birth itself- it's hard to put such a fully tangible, yet incredibly spiritual experience into words, but it's touched me so deeply. (More on that later.) I know I'm called to birth work, and I'm so thankful that my first experience was with such a normal, peaceful, perfect birth. Jessica, thank you so much for inviting and allowing me to be a part of Arden's birth- I'll be forever grateful.

 

Welcome, baby Arden! Do you know how many lives you've touched already?