It’s not a thing

We crowded our little family into the tiny sterile room. I sat on the table looming in the center and my husband took the chair while our three kids lost no time in opening the bag of toys and snacks I had brought to keep them company during my prenatal appointment. The nurse took my vitals and then proceeded to open a drawer and pull out the things the doctor would need for the GBS test.

“He is going to do the GBS test today,’ she told me not bothering to even look up at me, “so undress from the waist down.” She handed me the paper sheet to put over myself and started to leave the room.

For those of you lucky enough to not know the GBS test is its a test that is routinely done on pregnant women. Its simple enough really, a swab is taken of a woman’s vagina and other unmentionables down there. Its really pretty simple a little q tip is swiped quickly over the areas and then the secretions left on it are tested for a type of strep common to pregnant woman that can cause complications for the baby.

I had it done with my second daughter and as you lay on your back with your legs in the air feeling completely vulnerable and exposed, some (usually male) doctor does the quick swab and in that briefest of moments you feel so little, and powerless, and just the tiniest bit violated. At least I did. I tried to shrug it off as part of pregnancy but I hated it. I told myself it wasn’t a big deal, he would be doing a lot more than that in a couple of weeks when I gave birth. But this was different and I couldn’t quite say why.

My next child, I was under the care of a midwife and when the time came for the test she simply handed me the long handled q tip explained what she needed and sent me to the bathroom. In that moment I knew what the difference was. I was totally capable of doing this myself. If you can wipe your butt you can do this test. And yet women are told to undress, present their most private parts to a complete stranger to let him do it for them as though they were as helpless as the baby they carry.

I understood then that it was violating to me simply because it was so unnecessary and because it wasn’t presented to me as a choice but as an order. “Undress from the waist down, the doctor is going to do this now” Could you imagine the tables are turned and that doctor or any man for that matter were told to lay on his back and present his genitals so some woman could wipe them down for him! I don’t know about the men you know but any of the ones I know would laugh in your face.

But lets go back to the doctors office. As the nurse handed me the sheet with her flippant order to undress, I stopped her. “Actually, can I just do it myself?” I asked, feeling shame even in the asking. Why did I have to ask some woman if I could do this for myself. I felt like a child asking to play outside.

She looked at me as though I had lost my mind. “Thats not a thing.” She said, just undress the doctor will be in in a few minutes. And she left the room. I sat there dumb founded. thats not a thing? Is that the reason she was giving as to why this couldn’t be done by me in the privacy of a bathroom? I’m surprised they didn’t demand to watch me give the urine sample for testing too.

A few minutes later she came back in the room.” I saw Dr. Burgett and asked him about you doing this yourself and he said it was fine!” She seemed blown away by the novelty of this strange concept. But handed me the supplies and I headed to the bathroom.

Her words and the result of that doctors visit have stayed with me though. “Thats not a thing.” In other words, no one does that, therefore it can’t be done. Well I did it, and now its a thing. If another woman were to dare suggest they could do this on their own she would be one nurse who would know that THIS IS A THING!

We aren’t children that need permission. We are adult women, equal to our male counterparts, as smart and capable (although admittedly without the knowledge or degree) as that male (or female) doctor. How many things do we do, or don’t do, subject ourselves to or live without because its not a thing. Ladies its time for us to start making things, THINGS! Birth is ours, our bodies are ours, our choices are ours! We can own this and be women or we can undress from the waist down and wait for the doctor.

Just a little something that we did to pass the time while we waited for Preston to “pull the plug.”

 

The Birth of Jaiden and Jarom

• Warning: This post will contain pictures that are somewhat graphic. If that makes you uncomfortable I suggest you skip this one. And on that note here is a shout out to Salt City Birth Photography for the great photos. Rowan was amazing. I didn’t even notice her taking pictures and she got so many great ones. It was hard to choose which to include in this post. https://saltcitybirth.com/

A recliner isn’t a horrible place to sleep. But after several weeks of sitting propped up with pillows in an effort to feel reclined without actually reclining for half the night and then in a desperate attempt to snag some sleep before the sun fully rises moving to the bed to try to sleep in my nest of pillows only to find that, an even more uncomfortable option I was done and desperate for some relief.

The last four nights I spent a good portion of the night trying to decide if I should call my midwife. Every time I would lay down surges would start. They would get harder and harder until I could no longer deal with them in that position and I would wriggle and worm my way to the edge of the bed and then using one hand to push my belly ahead of me and the other to catch it on its way over I would use my legs to attempt to propel myself over the edge of the bed. If that didn’t cause round ligament spasms or painful abdominal strain, it usually resulted in getting me off the bed. Upon getting to my feet I would give my body a chance to adjust to the weight that settled down in my middle and onto my hips, give my bladder a chance to register the fact that a mere teaspoon was inside and causing a desperate urge for a potty break and I would make my way to the bathroom waddling across the darkened room all the while feeling deeply envious of Joseph’s deep breathing as he peacefully slept away the hours nestled in his burrito blankets and soft pillow.

As the sun rose Tuesday morning March 19th I knew I couldn’t keep this up much longer. I gave my pelvis a break by pushing my arms down on the sink and letting my belly hang. I looked at my tired face in the mirror and thought “just one more day Vilate, just do one more day” I knew the only way this was going to be possible was if I spent the day finding and enjoying things that eased the pain I was feeling. The first thing on the agenda was a bath in Mother’s jacuzzi tub. I felt an exhaustion I hadn’t before, for the first time I felt like I didn’t really care anymore how this birth turned out. I just wanted it done.

I tried to talk myself through it, reminding myself of everything we had invested into being able to have a healthy home birth. I reminded myself of all the reasons I had made this choice, I wondered if I would feel as though I had given up, None of it mattered. I had truly reached the capacity of all that I had to give.

Later sitting in Mother’s tub I talked it through with my sister who had also given birth to twins, I weighed all my options, talked it out with my mom and several others, thought through my motivations and reasons for doing what I was doing and finally came to the conclusion that I was ready to go to the hospital and get this done. I was happy to say that I didn’t feel fearful about the decision. I felt what I had felt from the beginning of this pregnancy which was a deep and sure feeling that all would be well but that it was time to take some action.

I called the OB. Dr. Burgett couldn’t get us in until thursday, That meant an induction on Friday at the earliest. That wasn’t an option. Joseph came to pick me up and I told him we are already half way to the hospital lets just go. I bet if we show up to labor and delivery at this point they would just start us. We started driving and I realized I didn’t have any ID with me. We drove home to get the ID and decided to let Johannah have a nap, pack a bag, find a baby sitter and go prepared to stay.

In the mean time my midwife Richelle called. “Do you want me to come try a natural induction?” she asked. I almost said no. I had worked through the emotions of settling for a hospital birth and was going into it so tired I just wanted all the help (and pain relief) that a hospital had to offer. I didn’t feel strong, motivated, or empowered. I almost said no but I thought about all that she had put into making this home birth successful as well and decided that we all deserved one last effort.

She suggested that I do one last emotion code session while I was waiting for her to get here. I called Dani and we did the session. If you aren’t familiar with the emotion code I wont bother trying to explain it because I won’t do it justice. If you are, I will say that the practitioner, Dani found that because of severe morning sickness early on in the pregnancy the physical (energetic) tie between me and the babies had broken and that messages that my body and their bodies were ready for labor were not connecting. She reconnected us and released several energies that were stopping things from progressing. I left the session feeling fresh and excited to try the induction even though I was not very convinced it would work.

Richelle arrived around 2 and we got started, things were crawling a long and if nothing else I was occupied and resting, as well as actively doing something to bring an end to this pregnancy so I was happy.

At around 7 pm the Relief Society president in my ward messaged to check on me (can you say inspiration) she offered to take the kids for a while. She came and got them just as Richelle and I were trying a procedure that required me to lay down for 30 min. Every time I had lain down in the last 4 days I had hard surges so it was a great time to have the kids gone. By the time the 30 min. was over I was having surges hard enough I found myself making birthing noises to get through them. About this time the kids were just arriving home and I called my mom to tell her that things might be moving along but that I didn’t know, and she could come if she wanted.

As soon as my 30 minutes were up and I got up the contractions stopped and labor felt miles away. It was around 9pm when my mom got there. I felt silly for having called her because nothing was happening. She and my sister got my kids put to bed and Joseph arrived home to help Richelle get the tub set up. We wondered if it was premature but set it up anyway. I didn’t want to suddenly go into labor and need it and not have it.

Around 10 it was set up and filled and I was having pretty regular surges. I hadn’t bothered to time them but they were coming more frequently and a little harder although not yet uncomfortable. I got in the tub and breathed a sigh of relief at how good it felt. That lasted about 2 minutes because the next surge came and hit hard. It reminded me what labor feels like and I felt my first twinge of fear.

“I’m scared,” I told Richelle. Thats what has to happen to get labor started my mom reminded me. “This is what you’ve been wanting.” I imagined myself being grateful for the pain but it was a bit of a stretch. One more surge and I needed a potty break. By the time I finished in the bathroom I was pretty sure this was it. I messaged the birth photographer and told her I thought she could come now. It was 10:20 and Richelle sent her other midwives a text saying “I might need you tonight. I will let you know.”

When I came back from the bathroom I didn’t want to get in the tub just yet. I wanted to stand and move as long as possible. I did one or two more surges standing at the side of the tub, swaying my hips and breathing deeply. Then it became too hard to stand and I got down on my knees and leaned on the side of the tub now making low moaning sounds as I tried to think and breathe my body low and open.

10:40 Richelle sent another message telling the midwives to come now. It was becoming harder and harder to stay low. Joseph and Mother started hip pressure. I could hear the sounds of labor progressing in my voice. I began to dread each coming wave. As the pressure began to mount and the tightening increased I would take a deep expanding breathe while repeating over and over in my mind “I can do all things through Christ…,” at the crest of the contraction I lost myself a little in the intensity of it and just made tiny low moaning sounds as I tried to keep from losing focus. Then as the contraction would ease off I would think “Who strengthens me.” Then I would take a minute to regroup and tell myself “that was one down, this wont take very long and I will be done! My babies will be here and I will have accomplished this just as I had dreamed of.”

When I could no longer focus enough to do that, I told Richelle I was scared, and I needed a break. I was starting to feel like I couldn’t do this. She walked me through visualizing breathing in white light and breathing out blue pain. If nothing else it was something new to focus on, it was something to think about and try. It was something to get me through a few more waves.

Sooner even than I had imagined, and almost before I was ready for it I started feeling my body bearing down and pushing, I could feel everything opening, I remembered Richelle telling me that doing “horse lips” would slow things down and keep me from tearing. “Its coming,” I said and then started doing my best to do horse lips. It was harder than I thought because my body insisted on pushing and I couldn’t push and do horse lips at the same time so it came out in little short puffs that sounded more like I was spitting watermelon seeds.

I widened the space between my knees and fought the urge to freeze up and just scream. I knew i wanted to catch my baby so i made myself reach down and cup the round bulge emerging from my body. As I marveled at holding my babies head in my hands it burst sending water cascading through my fingers and down onto my thighs. The bag of waters had just burst and soon after the real head started to emerge. I held it in my hands and continued to try to slow down the urge to push.  As the shoulders came out quickly followed by the rest of the body I caught the baby in my arms and the midwife reached around me to unwrap the cord from his neck before I pulled him up to my chest. I couldn’t believe that I had caught my own baby! What a dream come true for me.  Jaiden was born at 11:02

 

At that point I wanted to lay back and enjoy my baby. I wanted Joseph with me. He got behind me and supported me as I laid back but just then the second baby started to make his appearance. Two little feet came first and I reached down in time to feel a skinny little leg. I held it in my hand for just a moment before things got a bit more intense. At that point the midwife had to step in and do a little maneuvering in order to get the second baby out. My position on my back on the floor wasn’t ideal for delivering a breach baby. I simply got through it by telling myself this is it, we are almost done. Joseph was reassuring me and doing his best to comfort me. There was a good amount of screaming and then just four minutes after his brother was born baby Jarom made his appearance.

 

Things get a little hazy in my memory after that. I recall watching the midwife perform mouth to mouth on Jarom but I never worried. I knew she would get him breathing and he would do great. I nursed Jaiden, and Joseph did skin to skin with them while I delivered the placenta and moved to rest on the couch.

The last I remember was feeling more tired than I ever have in my life and then I guess I went to sleep because when I woke up, the room was dark, everyone had gone home and the babies were upstairs sleeping with Joseph. The sun was just coming up and I felt great! I couldn’t believe the incredible birth I had just experienced, as I replayed it over again in my mind I couldn’t think of one thing I would change.

Jaiden was 6 lbs 13 oz and 20 3/4 inches long.

Jarom was 6 lbs 12 oz and 20 1/2 inches long.

They appear to be identical.

I don’t know if I will ever have another baby but I feel so great knowing that everything I experienced and learned through each of my births brought me to a place where I could experience such a powerful, peaceful, natural home birth of twins.

Filled to over flowing

Early in 2017 I discovered that I was once again expecting a baby. I was really excited about this one and felt prepared although when I took the test and saw those two lines that meant positive the excitement pretty quickly dissipated as the reality of the months of morning sickness and the difficulty of the pregnancy that lay before me became real.

We decided that since we had one of each already we would not find out the gender and would let it be a surprise. I felt confident it was a boy; the last little boy from the dream that I had a few years before. Joseph also felt like it was a boy. But when we told the kids they were adamant it was a girl. Preston insisted it was a “Vienna baby.” Here is their reaction.

Joseph had started a Masters program at UVU so he was extra busy with classes and work. We also brought Joseph’s mother out to visit and we took a trip to Nauvoo and to all the church history sites along the way. Toward the end of the summer we took a trip to California to the beach. The kids thought they were in heaven and we got some cute pictures.

Finally at the end of October after several false starts and thinking that we were actually going to get our baby, our Sweet Johannah Rose was born. On the way to the hospital Joseph and I decided that we had better talk about possible girl names on the off chance that it was a girl. So her name wasn’t decided on until the very last second.

2018

We had been preparing for a long time for Joseph to get U.S. Citizenship. I taught the kids the pledge of Allegiance so that they could say it along with their dad. Here is their version of it.

Finally in July the paper work came through and we went for the naturalization ceremony. Joseph’s mother came again and was here for the occasion. And several good friends and family came for it as well.

 

It was about this time that I started to experience some symptoms that caused some concern for me. I kept feeling sick to my stomach. My first thought was that I was pregnant so I was relieved when the test came back negative. However the sickness continued for weeks and after awhile it was accompanied by extreme exhaustion and some minor heartburn.

I took another pregnancy test feeling pretty sure I knew what the results would be. But even then I wasn’t prepared to see those two lines that meant our life was about to change once again. It was all so fast!

I went that same day to see the doctor to get something to help with the nausea and vomiting. He did an ultrasound to confirm the pregnancy and to discover how far along I was since I had no way of knowing. When the screen came up I saw the usual little bubble that meant a baby was truly on the way but it didn’t look quite right to me and I couldn’t tell just where the baby was. The doctor as well seemed a little taken a back and paused for just a second before he began looking closer at the little smudges and blobs on the screen.

He turned off the machine and I half feared he had bad news for us. Well, he said you are definitely pregnant and its too early to say too much… but it looks to me like there are two babies. Joseph just started laughing and I was stunned. TWINS!

It turns out I was already almost 8 weeks along so we only had 4 more to wait until we could confirm that it was in fact twins. I was happy and overwhelmed, and nervous and excited all at the same time. The 12 week scan confirmed two healthy babies.

8 more weeks went by and we went for the 20 week anatomy scan. All was well and it turns out we had two little brothers for Preston on the way.

Today, as I sit here looking back at my life less than six years ago. And the contrast to where I am now it is unbelievable that so much has happened and that my life has changed so much. I look back on the loneliness, the longing I felt to have a family and I remember the image I saw of myself at the vending machine hopelessly putting in my dollars and waiting to no avail. Now it seems that all those treats came tumbling out at once and my arms are full to over flowing.

I look back at the dream I had of my children and I see their faces before me. I hold them in my arms and marvel that they are here and I am living this reality. I feel blessed beyond measure and I know that the names we have chosen for our babies couldn’t be more perfect.

In the next 5 to 9 weeks. Jaiden Scott Ssempala (whose name means God has heard) and Jarom Ivan Ssempala (whose name means Prosperity) will be joining our family. I would love to invite you to share this journey with us as we prepare for their arrival and for the craziness that is sure to follow.

 

A Plea for Help

Poverty is a difficult thing. The more I learn about it the more complex it is. My eyes have been opened in the last three or so years in a way that I never could have imagined. We judge poverty by our own experiences. If someone doesn’t have running water or indoor plumbing we consider that a hardship because we have it and couldn’t imagine doing with out. My husband grew up without it and sees it as a superflous thing that doesn’t mean much to him. He sees what Americans have given up in order to have such modern conveniences and to him it’s not necessarily a win.

Sometimes as Americans we are a bit smug even in our desires to help. People don’t need rescuing, they don’t need someone to push for them to have the same modern convenices that we consider essential. Most of the time they just need an opportunity.

When I was in Uganda, my budget was kind of tight. I had used everything I had to pay my way there and to pay for my expenses during the 5 months that I lived there. Yet I was surrounded on every side by people who had less than me. How could I not help?

On the other hand, how could I help? Every day I encountered handicapped people whose needs far exceeded anything that I could give to make a difference, I encountered children who lived on the streets and had no home to go to. I encountered single moms struggling and often failing to care for their children. I saw people who were sick, suffering and the need was overwhelming. I helped where I could and I consoled myself with the fact that I was there making a difference. I was volunteering for a non-profit that helps single moms become self sufficient. Musana was making a difference and I could feel good about how I was spending my time and the little money I had. 

Then one day I was walking the streets of Kampala making arrangements for the new street sign we were putting up at Musana. A woman approached me, obviously hungry, she had a small child strapped to her back and she was clutching her obviously empty breasts and pleading for help. She didn’t speak english but her message was clear. She had nothing to feed her baby. The baby looked at me with large open eyes from his mothers back. I shrugged my shoulders indicating that I had nothing for her and moved on. It felt heartless but what could I do? I couldn’t help everyone.

Since then I have had my own children. I have sat in a cozy gliding rocker in a decorated nursery and nursed my babies. During those times that I have not had enough milk I have gone to the kitchen and quickly made a bottle to satisfy my chubby sweet baby. I have come home from church after several hours of not being able to eat and made myself something to eat to help with that cold empty shaking feeling in my stomach that nursing a hungry baby leaves if you don’t eat enough.

Every day since my son was born that woman has been in my mind and heart. I have wept tears over the help I didn’t offer. Needless to say I would do things differently if I could go back. Still I would be faced with the same dilemma of too much need for my capabilities to help; but this woman, this one woman, I could have helped to feed her child. She came to me I could have done something.

A friend of mine is preparing for her own humanitarian trip to Uganda in May. She s raising $25,000 to build an orphanage while she is there. She is asking that we and anyone who is willing participate in “7 days of nothing” now I cringe a little at the title because having seen people who have nothing and it hardly compares. But the idea is to do without something for 7 days and donate your savings to the cause. Perhaps you can eat simply for 7 days. Nothing but beans, rice and oatmeal (typical food for many  families all over the world) Perhaps you can forgo using your running water and carry whatever water you need from an outdoor faucet, to get a feel for the way the majority of the world lives. Maybe try walking or riding your bike to work or the grocery store if you can.

And if that is too much for you maybe you can skip your daily latte, or a trip to the salon. or go on a sugar fast for a week. Save what you can and send it to my friend to help build an orphanage. For Joseph and I we have washed our own clothes by hand, carried our water, walked wherever we need to go, done without many things and we know how to do it. We will be joining my friend in her 7 days of nothing and perhaps that woman and her sickly child will not haunt me so much. For you I pray that you will find something that works for you someway that you can give and I think you will find that the bigger your sacrifice the more impact it will have on your life.

Birth of Vienna Joy

In spite of my best efforts to get a natural labor going before my induction date of July 13th. Monday the 13th dawned without even a hint of anything beyond the random surges and bh contractions that I had been experiencing for weeks. But let me back up…maybe its best to start with an explaination of the choices we had made that lead us to where we were.

After Preston’s birth I was a little shaken in my ideas and beliefs about childbirth. In all the hundreds of birth videos I had seen none had been anything like what I experienced. I watched women TALKING while in labor, swaying gently back and forth and smiling at their husbands behind the camera. It baffled me. The pain I had experienced had hit like a sledge hammer and not let up until Preston was here. I couldn’t see how what these women were doing was even possible.

I also felt betrayed by my body. And I wondered if I had done something to bring it on myself. Maybe the panic that I felt that Preston was getting too big and that he needed to come out now was nothing more than the natural mama’s urge to not want to wait any more. Maybe all the “natural Induction” technics that I insisted we try inspite of my midwife’s reluctance had actually added to the trauma of his birth. I swore next time would be different. I would let nature take its course.

But Preston had been awfully big, the 4th degree tear I had sustained still caused me pain. And I felt caught between a rock and a hard spot. If I was listening to what my body was telling me my gut feeling and a strong one at that said it was time and he needed to come now natural or not. So what was I to do?

When I found out I was pregnant again I called Richelle, I had loved having her as my midwife before and wanted her again. She however was unable to take me so the search began for another midwife. I called and spoke to 3 or 4 and felt teary and unsettled about each one. The decision seamed huge and overwhelming. 

We went in for our ultra sound to find out how far along we were. We were 7 weeks. Dr. Chappell sat us down after doing the ultra sound and talked to us about his philosophies about birth. Everything he said peaked my intrest and increased confidence in him. I decided to throw something at him to see if I could shock him with something “crunchy.” I plan to eat my placenta, I told him. Would you be ok with saving it for me?

“Absolutely! I wish more women knew the incredible benefits of doing that. The placenta contains everything a woman needs to recover from a birth. Its amazing stuff” His response baffled me and I threw out every other crunchy natural birth belief that I had to see if I could get a reaction. Nothing phased him, there was nothing he was unfamiliar with. The only thing he didn’t agree with me on was when an induction would be required.

“I think that since 42 weeks in technically full term, the baby deserves that long if its what she wants” I said.

“41 and 3 is as long as I am comfortable with going” he told me. I laughed a little. What was he going to do come to my house and drag the baby out of me?

We left the office and as we walked to the car I felt as though the matter was settled. I wanted a home birth, I wanted a nice warm, motherly midwife. I did not want a cold sterile hospital, medical procedures and a handsome young doctor who looked more like he should be chatting it up with some pretty nurse from Grey’s Anatomy than coaching me through the most difficult beautiful and sacred experience of life. And yet I felt at peace and as though the decision had already been made.

“I think he should be our doctor” Joseph and I said the words at the same time.

We laughed and that was that. A few weeks later I found myself crying over the decision. It just wasn’t what I wanted. I vented to Joseph. “WHo knows how many times I will get to experience childbirth?” I told him. “i don’t want to waste a birth experience on a hospital birth. I want a home birth, I want a midwife and I want to feel comfortable about my choice!”

His answer was simple “well then lets get a midwife! I will support you in whatever you decide.”

Again I called 5 or 6 midwives and each time I got off the phone feeling confused, flustered and teary. I simply couldn’t choose one. Finally I prayed about it. And the answer was simple. I already had the answer. I just hadn’t accepted it yet. Dr. Chappell was the best option for our doctor.

Fast forward to July. We continued to go back and forth about 42 vs 41+3 as an induction date and we finally decided that since we had felt strongly about him being our Dr. we should be willing to take his advice so we scheduled an induction for the 13th. In the mean time I did a lot of walking, relaxing and talking to the baby about what her needs were and listening to my own body and mind about what might be holding her up. On the morning of the 12th I woke up and took Preston for a walk we walked about 1 mile including going up and down the long steep hill by our house 3 times. It was Joseph’s birthday and I really wanted him to get his wish of having her born on his birthday.

But Sunday came and went and Monday morning we got the call to go to the hospital. They started the pitocin at 10 AM and the count down began. Our nurse Marianne was incredible. She started by going over our birthplan in complete detail with us and even asked if there was any wording we wanted her to use to help us with our hypno birthing. Dr. Chappell had agreed to only use pitocin to kick-start the labor and that we would turn it down or off as my own body took over creating the surges. Instead of the usual procedure of increasing the pitocin every 30 min. Marianne would ask me how I was feeling and together we would decide to increase, decrease or leave it.

The surges were rolling right along at a regular two minutes a part. They were comfortable and even exciting at times. I loved having the chance to work with my body. I found that there were things that I could do to make them easier. I found ways to move deeper and deeper into relaxation during the surges and I honestly looked forward to them.

My doula Natalie was there and she was amazing. Supportive as a doula, comforting and knowledgable as to what would help but there just as a friend to hang out and keep me company otherwise. My mom was there and Joseph was there and we just had a nice long visit. We listened to music and Natalie introduced me to a couple of songs titled Vienna. I thought how fun it would be to tell VIenna that this is what we listened to while I was in labor with her.

Mother brought us some lunch and then around 4 pm Marianne told me that Dr. Chappell would be coming soon and that he would break my water. I was a little annoyed that she would talk about it as though it wasn’t my choice and my body. It wasn’t a question to her but a statement. I let her know that I didn’t want my water broke and she dismissed it with a quick well the doctor will talk with you about it.

When Dr. Chappell arrived sure enough he told me he thought it would be a good idea tao break my water. I told him I was uncomfortable with that and would like to look at other options. He suggested that we could just continue with the pitocin but turn it up to get things moving since I was only at a 7. So we turned up the pit and the surges suddenly became waves washing over me, and threatening to swallow me. I got in the tub and labored for the next few hours there. THings got a lot more intense at that point. Natalie was teaching me how to go deep and dive under each surge moaning low and quietly and just let it wash over me. IT was helping and I was just starting to get the hang of it when two new nurses came and replaced my wonderful Marianne.

THey wanted to check me and although it seemed impossible to me at this point since I literally had almost no breaks between surges I agreed against my better judgement. The nurse put on a long plastic glove and shoved her hand at me blindly poking around trying to find what she was looking for. It hurt and I screamed (and maybe even swore) at her to get out of there. A few minutes later we tried again and she informed me that I was at a 10 and needed to get out of the water and start pushing. I didn’t want to, I didn’t feel the urge to push but once again against my better judgement I went along with it. I assumed that maybe my hesitation was fear of reaching the pushing stage.

Pushing hurt and left me unable to focus clearly on relaxing through the surges. I thought maybe I was pushing wrong so I suggested we get a scarf and Dr. Chappell did some tug of war pulling with me. IT helped but we still were making no progress. I was beginning to panic. I needed this to be over. I didn’t feel like I could go on much longer but we still weren’t even seeing the babies head.

Finally after an hour of pushing Dr. Chappell checked me again. I was expecting him to tell me that the babies head was right there and that a few more pushes and we would be done. INstead he looked a bit flustered and even disappointed. Well, you are actually just at a 7 and 90% effaced. I was shocked and wanted to cry. When we had started pitocin that morning I was 90% and at a 5. It was now almost 11 pm and I had apparently only progressed by two cm!

I asked everyone to leave so that Joseph and I could talk. I told him that I know we wanted a natural birth but I needed an epidural. I couldn’t go back to laboring for hours. I had told him before hand to remind me of all the reasons I wanted a natural birth when I asked for an epidural but when he tried I wouldn’t listen. I felt like I truly was beyond the point of no return and I COULDN”T do this any more. Dr. Chappell had turned off the pitocin to let me have a minute and THe surges had pretty much stopped. I insisted that I needed the epidural and asked for Dr. Chappell. He agreed and sent for the anesthesiologist. He was there within a few minutes and after a quick jab in the back I was pain free. It was really nice. REALLY NICE!!!

Here’s Joseph cutting the cord. Obviously this was a new experience for him!

We thought I could take a quick nap but when Dr. Chappell checked just 30 minutes later the baby was there ready to come. She’s got hair he told me. A few quick controlled pushes and she was out. I reached for her even as her legs and feet were still sliding out and Dr. Chappell let me pull her up on my chest. She was perfect and healthy. They left me alone with her as I had requested and after more than an hour when I had bonded and cuddled and loved on her they came to cut the cord, and measure her. She was 20 inches long and8lbs 4.5 oz.

It was a good birth. I got to experience a lot of the elements of birth that had been missing with Preston’s birth. And as crazy as it sounds…I cant wait to do it again! 

10 Ways you will know you have reached (or exceeded) your due date

1.) When siting, standing, walking, laying down, kneeling, squatting, standing on one foot etc. just hurts.

2.) When sleeping with 6 pillows is no longer enough

3.) When you find yourself looking longingly at a bottle of castor oil

4.) When you no longer care what people think enough that you will sit down in the middle of an isle, road, or room full of people because….well you have to sit!

5.) When you watch your babies bottle of milk spilling on the floor of your car and don’t even make an effort to pick it up because you know there is no way your making it down that low.

6.) When all it takes is someone making a helpful suggestion of something that you might do to make the baby come or to make the wait more comfortable and you feel as though your inner monster has been unleashed and you just might take their head off.

7.) When you cry because…well insert pretty much anything here and it works.

8.) When you find yourself doing the toilet dance (if you’ve been there you know what I mean) in an effort to make each visit more productive and possibly give you a full twenty minutes between visits.

9.) When remaining pregnant another day becomes worse than all possibilities, fears and outcomes of giving birth.

10.) When despite the fact that your brain knows it’s an impossibility you find yourself in tears over the VERY REAL possibility of you being the first woman to ever remain pregnant FOREVER.

You will know you have reached your day. And if the baby doesn’t come today, than maybe tomorrow, or the next day… or….or…..

A Letter To My One Year Old

Dearest Preston,

I just finished rocking you to sleep, kissed your baby lips and put you in your crib. Every night as I rock you I whisper to you “Do you know how much joy you bring to me?” every night you smile back at me as though somehow you do. I never could have imagined how wonderful being a mother truly is. I am so glad you came to bless our family!

I want you to have my memories from your first year so here is a quick summary. When you started to speak you really started with several words all at the same time so I don’t recall which was actually your very first. But the one you used the most was probably “More” which just means food to you. You say it when you are hungry. Just today you took Aunt Hannah by the hand pulled her to the kitchen stood in front of the fridge and kept repeating more more until she gave you something to eat. Sometimes you drive us a little crazy with this one!

Another word you love to say is Daddy. The first time you said it you were about 7 or 8 months old. Joseph walked in the door from work and you looked up said Daddy and crawled straight to him. He had the biggest smile on his face I have ever seen. You have a special relationship with your Daddy and its obvious you think he can do just about anything. You sing his name over and over when he isn’t around and you almost always greet him enthusiastically when he comes home from work. Another word was Aunt Hannah, or as you say it “A nana.” 

The first time you said Mama I was in the bathroom you crawled to the door and started scratching at the door and calling for me. That was the quickest shower I ever took as I was so excited to get out and hold you.

After that you said door, love you, thanks, Chloe, Esther, and Yeah. You say yeah all the time and you know what it means and use it accordingly. You also have said no a few times.

You love to laugh and will often laugh for no reason, you hold your hand over your mouth and bring your shoulders up and giggle, you love people and anyone who will give you attention and play with you. You love being outside and beg for me to take you out every day. You stand on your toes by the door and reach for the handle and plead with me until I have no choice but to take you. Your feet are always crossed. I don’t know why but ever since you were a baby your feet are always crossed, when you are sitting or laying down. It’s really cute. You have the most beautiful silver eyes and loads of soft curly hair. You have 4 teeth now and you like to use them to bite me. I haven’t been able to convince you that it’s not a good idea and that it hurts. You also like to pull my hair, although when you do I pull yours back a little to show you that it doesn’t feel good. You expression is always priceless! 

You are very sensitive to people’s moods and you try to make everyone around you smile and be happy. When you see someone sad you will go to them and try your best to make them smile by being silly or goofy. Everyone loves you and you are the light of my life. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t feel utterly overwhelmed with my love for you. YOu know your little sister is coming and you are clinging to me a little more than usual because of it, or maybe its me clinging to you, who really knows. But this time in your life has been so special to me. This time that you have spent together just you and I has been sweeter than words can express. 

I am so excited to see how another baby will change our lives and our relationship, because I know that she will. It may be hard to adjust to having another baby to care for, and it may be hard on you to grow up just a little faster as I do take care of her but one thing that you have taught me about babies is that the joy far out weighs the challenges. So, my sweet boy, as we head out on this new adventure know that your mommy has loved every moment of this year with you and is so looking forward to many more to come! I love you my Preston!

Life is Hard; But Thats Not Why I’m Crying

I haven’t written in a while. I feel a little overwhelmed with my life at the moment. But there is so much that I want to say today that I just hope I can find the words to say it adequately.

When I was single I wrote more than one post about how hard it is to be single; how hard it is to feel like you have some how come to a dead end and don’t know what to do to change it. I wrote about feeling hopeless in my desire for children and family. I wrote about how lonely it feels to go to bed by myself every night, to go to church alone every Sunday. And it was hard, it was terribly hard and it was a burden I could never have carried on my own.

Last night as I put Preston down for the night I felt such relief to know that it would be hours before he would need me again. I closed his door so softly so that I wouldn’t wake him because  I didn’t feel like I could handle his squirming, crying, needyness one more minute. And then I sighed and went to bed. As I crawled in next to my husband too tired to even turn over and give him a proper goodnight, I pushed that body pillow between my legs to ease my aching hips and propped my ever growing pregnant belly on top so that it wouldn’t strain my back. I felt my husband’s warm body next to me and when he rubbed my feet with his and whispered goodnight, I just wanted to cry because I have so much and yet life is still hard.

I woke in the middle of the night because the pain in my throat and my ears was becoming too much to sleep through. Preston and I have both been sick with a bad cold, cough, fever and just feeling pretty plain miserable. I took a sip of water from the glass that Joseph always makes sure is on the nightstand next to my bed and I tried to sleep. It wasn’t long before Joseph started to stir. I didn’t feel like I could handle another day so soon. “We need to get going” he told me. we had a big day planned. “I know” I said although I couldn’t make it come out more than a whisper because my voice was so raspy. “I feel terrible” I complained. Joseph leaned over and gently pushed the hair off my forehead. “Do you want to just rest this morning? I can go to work and come home early so that we can still get everything done that we have to do today” he told me. I gladly agreed and layed back down. He kissed me gently, not even worried about catching my germs and then left to go to one of his two jobs that he works so hard at to support us.

It was 9am when Preston woke up, I was glad he had let me sleep so long. We cuddled in bed and gazed in each others eyes for awhile before he insisted it was time for breakfast. I was preoccupied with something else and Preston was trying hard to get my attention. He was leaning forward in his highchair, a huge smile on his food covered face. He was giggling at nothing just to get me to look at him. I couldn’t help but smile back and that smile was followed by a flood of tears. Partially because I am pregnant and tears flow all too easily these days but also because I HAVE EVERYTHING I HAVE EVER WANTED. And life is still hard. Joseph and I have disagreements sometimes and I am here to tell you that the more you love someone the more mad you get at them. I am pregnant with another special blessing that I know will bring as much joy as Preston has. But between the intense morning sickness, and blinding headaches I haven’t really enjoyed this pregnancy much.

Don’t worry those spots all over him are just lipstick kisses!

I don’t know wether this post is about complaining or about feeling blessed because I feel overwhelmed with both right now. All I know is that all morning I have felt like my old self, the one that ached after years and years of wondering if this time of life would ever come for me, has been looking over my shoulder smiling at all the things that I am enjoying and not enjoying so much about this time and she is pleased beyond words.

I am so lucky to have found someone that I love so deeply and intensely and who feels the same way about me. I am so lucky that two amazing spirits have chosen ME to be their mother! I get to be a stay at home mom. That doesn’t happen without a husband who is willing to work twice as hard and sacrifice to get by with less. I have laundry up to my eyeballs and dirty dishes enough to keep me occupied all day. And I have a silly giggling boy who inspite of being sick himself gently caresses my check and showers me with wet, (we hope its just slobbery) kisses.

Yes life is hard, incredibly so. But its so good that sometimes the only way to soak it all in is to just allow the tears to flow.

Yep! I’m A Mom. You Can Tell From The Stale Milk On My Shoulder

I’m a Mom! Preston turned 6 weeks old yesterday and I am still wrapping my head around the fact that I am a mom. This isn’t just a temporary experience that will one day go away this is the real deal. The truth is that I have mixed emotions about that.

As I have seen so many others have babies i mostly saw just the good parts. The blissful mother sitting quietly rocking her sleeping baby wrapped sweetly in a blanket. My experience has been a bit different or at least there were things about being a mom that I never saw with other people.

I never saw…

how sometimes you don’t realize until the end of the day that you never combed your hair. And then when you do realize it you also realize that you really don’t care.

how many times I would find myself racing to the bathroom because since the birth I literally have seconds before its too late; and I never knew how many times I would have a nursing baby in my arms at the same time because he would scream if I tried to put him down.

those moments at 3 am when the baby hasn’t slept all night and just won’t stop screaming and you feel like challenging him to a match to see who can cry harder.

I never knew the “joy” of nursing a baby while milk from the other side drips down your belly and onto your baby.

But there was no way that anyone could have prepared me for the feeling that I would get when my finally satisfied baby looked up at me with milk dripping from his chin, opened one eye and grinned.

I couldn’t have foreseen how much joy I would get from hearing him finally poop after it has been a few days and I am worried.

And nothing compares with laying in the bath tub with my baby laying next to me, his arms and legs wrapped around me like a little monkey and his little face propped up so that I can see his wide open eyes, his fat chin and pink lips propped up on my chest looking as content and happy as I have ever seen him.

I lay awake at night marveling at the tiny pink balls that are the undersides of his perfect little toes, the tiny dimples on his little manly hands and his funny elf shaped ears.

His one little curl that WILL stand up in the center of his head and the little muscles of his arms make me just want to squeeze him.

He loves to cuddle and he sighs in contentment when I am close to him. Its so amazing to know that he loves me so completely and that I am the one he wants above all others. I never new I would sit and cry just because I don’t know what else to do with all the love I feel.

It scares me a little to love someone so much. Especially someone so vulnerable. Before I had a baby, I was never really afraid of much because the worst thing that could happen was that I would die… and that didn’t seem so horrible. Now there are dozens of worse things that could happen and all of them make my blood run cold with fear.

What if he gets sick and I don’t know how to make him feel better?

What if He gets hurt? I could get in a car accident, I could drop him, he could fall off the bed, he could choke, he could just stop breathing in the night for no reason, he could have any number of complications that would be outside of my control and the thought is horrifying. Nothing is worse than the thought of losing my baby or of seeing him suffer.

I have always heard stories of soldiers laying dying and calling for their mothers with their last breaths. Now I have a little son and suddenly that becomes the most heart breaking thing I have ever heard. I pray every day with all of my heart that the Lord keeps my little one safe. 

Grandma is worried about how empty the house is going to feel when this little one goes home.

And I am worried about what I am going to do without all the help taking care of him.

Being a mother is scary, difficult, exhausting, wonderful exhilarating, fulfilling and indescribable…

So I guess I better stop trying. Besides I think I hear him stirring…

 

My Year of Miracles: A review of my tenth year as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints

10 years! I remember it like it was yesterday; the day I got baptised into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I felt so lost and out-of-place I wondered if I would make it through the week. I felt strongly that I had made the right decision…but boy was it going to mean big changes for me; many of which there was no way to be prepared for.

Since that day each year on the anniversary of that day I spend some time alone, thinking, pondering and reviewing my choice, my commitment, and the consequences of that choice, be they good or bad. Every year I look back filled with gratitude, sometimes sadness, but always in awe of what has transpired since that time and most especially in the most recent year.

This year more than any other year I see so clearly how that choice I made ten years ago continues to grow in its impact in my life. Almost every single decision I made this year…and I made some big ones, was in a large way influenced by my decision to join this church.

So here is a year in review:

May 2013

I arrived in Uganda just 1 day before my 9th anniversary as a member of the LDS church. That first week was hard. Really hard. It took some getting used to, it was fun, it was an adventure, it was eye-opening to see a way of life so different from my own. That month I learned to live without so many things. I ate strange foods and even insects (check out the video!)

This was my bed.

I went way to long without showers because of a lack of water, met so many new friends, learned to sleep in spite of the lizards crawling on the walls, and the mice and rats fighting over food remnants in our kitchen. I used pit latrines, carried water in a jerry can, was smothered in love and dirty hand prints by dozens of children who all wanted to hold my hand and have a piece of my attention. I felt completely overwhelmed by all of it. Especially the stifling heat. Oh and I didn’t know it then but I met someone who would change my life forever. It was a good month!

After adding a few of my things and scrubbing vigorously!

June 2013

I agreed to go on a date with Joseph Ssempala. That date colored the rest of my month. I saw him or talked to him every day after that. When he told me he loved me after just a few weeks I responded by teaching him a new phraze…”take a chill pill.” fortunately he isn’t one to give up easily and while he did give me the little space that I needed, he continued to make me feel like the most amazing woman alive. He showed me so many things and we had some amazing adventures that month. I realized I was falling in love in a strange country with a strange and wonderful man who took my breath away. It was a great month!!

Joseph and I on our first date.

July 2013

After traveling to Rwanda and having some crazy adventures there. I accepted a proposal of marriage from the man of my dreams and after only dating just two days shy of a month. Joseph and I began planning our wedding. At first we planned for the wedding to take place in October. But it wasn’t long before we realized that, that plan wasn’t going to work and we moved the date up to the 27th of July. It gave us two crazy weeks to plan for the day I had waited my whole life for. It was nothing like I had imagined but all the important elements where there with the exception of the attendance of family and friends. I was head over heels in love with the man I was marrying, I wore a beautiful white dress, and the end result was that I found myself a married woman and so blissfully content that nothing else mattered. What can I say, it was a phenomenal month!!!

August 2013

As July turned to August I learned many new skills. Like how to shower outside with a bucket of cold water, how to cook on a charcoal stove, and how to have an argument and still stay friends with your new husband. I planted a garden, created a home, met some wonderful new neighbors and took a pregnancy test that turned out to be positive! What more can I say…My joy was complete and it was the month of my dreams.

September 2013

September came with its own challenges and joys. I learned that morning sickness is NOTHING like being car sick but just in the mornings like I used to think it would be. I ate less and threw up more than I would have dreamed was possible. I spent most of my day resting and trying to help my body create another human being! I started teaching piano lessons, getting more involved at church, and just tried to survive being really sick. I also got to travel to South Africa where my new husband and I went through a very special ceremony where we were sealed together for time and all eternity in the house of the Lord. One of the most sacred and special moments of my life was when this man who I love so much took my hand and led me through this process that would bind us together for eternity. Eternity wouldn’t be long enough for me. It was a legion…wait for it….dary month!  (a little How I Met Your Mother reference for those of you that love Neil Patrick Harris).

October 2013

With the blush of spring and the warmth of summer past, October saw me traveling home alone. I needed to eat and rest and get strong for the baby growing inside me. I needed my family and I needed to be back in America. I would come, work on getting Joseph a visa, finish up my last two semesters of school and prepare for our coming baby. It was a long and lonely month.

November 2013

I turned 32 this month and being married took the sting out of being another year older, the day passed and aside from having a wonderful Skype session with my husband I hardly noticed. I prayed for a mild winter, worked and waited and waited some more. I found an apartment for us to start our lives together in and my mother graciously helped me to furnish and make our little two bedroom apartment feel like a home.

December 2013

Began to realize that Joseph wouldn’t be coming as soon as we had imagined and tried to adjust to a new kind of loneliness. With Morning sickness easing up significantly and the second trimester under way I felt like a new woman and I couldn’t believe my growing body. We had an ultra sound and discovered that our baby was a boy. We agreed to name him Preston Joseph.

January 2014

Started my final semester of school!! A degree 8 years in the making finally looking like it was coming to an end. Began a new job at Cedar Fort planning events. Life began to settle into a routine.

February 2014

As I moved into the third trimester, things began to get a bit more difficult. Preston became heavier, my belly got tighter and I felt sure my skin was going to pop! The miracle that takes place in a pregnant woman’s body on a daily basis never ceases to amaze me! Our baby was moving and growing and I was experiencing sweet moments that I had only ever dreamed about. I never dreamed that I would feel them alone, and experience my first pregnancy in such a way but I learned some good lessons about love, communication, patience and not taking things for granted. I learned about disappointment as Joseph’s application for a visitors visa was denied and we continued to wait for his immigrant visa.

March 2014

After passing out at work, and showing significant signs of impending labor I went on bedrest to keep from having our baby prematurely. This month I learned about accepting help even when you want to do things yourself, about exchanging independence for kindness, about learning to let go of expectations and about trust as I had to realize that this baby was going to be born without Joseph being here. My entire pregnancy was going to come and go without Joseph getting to be a part of any of it. On the other hand my exhausted body was grateful for the rest and the time spent with family. It was a very long month.

And Finally April 2014

And now we have come full circle. With my baby 13 days over due I find myself sitting down to write this review of what might possibly be the most eventful year of my life so far. April was long and exhausting, Big changes in our family. Joseph still unsure of when he will be able to join me and the anticipation of the nearness of a new life have left me a bit of an emotional basket case. I cry almost daily for no good reason. I sit, I stand, I walk, and I lay down in an effort to find a position where something doesn’t hurt. Then I give up until 5 minutes later when I will try it all again.

I am eternally grateful for the child growing within me, for the husband that I trust, love, and adore with every part of my being, for a family who has carried me through this incredibly difficult time. But more than anything else I am grateful that I followed my heart, the direction that I felt from the spirit that day ten years ago. I am so grateful that because of what I know and love about the gospel of Jesus Christ, this year and everything I have experienced in it has been worth it. It has been so wonderful, hard and overwhelming. But I have grown and never once have I doubted that my Father has a plan for our little family, that he brought us together and he can keep us together if we draw close to him. I haven’t doubted that he loves us, that i am exactly where he wants me to be and that I can approach him in peace knowing that in spite of my imperfections he is proud of me and so willing to help me. I love my Lord, I love his church, I love my husband, my baby my family and my life. Every year so far has seen blessings and adventures. But this year, this year that marks a full decade in the church…This year was big…

this year was beyond description!!!