Best Gift Ever

For those who don't speak toddler--she's singing "happy birthday to you, mama and mommy."

Where, oh where has December gone?

December somehow got away from me this year. I took on some extra work this month and that, along with household chores and chasing after the bean, has kept me away from my usual christmas preparations. Finally, this last weekend, I found the time (in between holiday parties) to bake batches and batches of christmas cookies while listening to carols and finishing up some last minute crafts. NOW it feels like christmas is coming!



Do you remember this stocking that I started for the bean last year? I stitched like crazy on it all of last December, but I knew there was no chance of getting it done in time. You might think it has been finished for months, given the fact that I had all year to work on it, but I needed to give the thing a little rest at the beginning of last year and only worked on it here and there for several months. This fall, I kicked it into high gear and finally finished up all the stitching.



Last weekend I found the time to do the finish work (ugh, the finishing seems to take longer that the actual stitching). I'm very happy with how my first attempt at embroidery turned out. We hung it up alongside my handmade stocking from my childhood and a place holder stocking for the boy. It took a full year to complete the bean's stocking, so perhaps in two years I'll complete the other two kits I have hiding in my sewing table for us?

Thankful

Sometimes I'm jealous that I'm not the fun Mom. During much of my alone time with the bean, I'm doing housework and I'm much more likely to be vacuuming the couch than making a fort from its cushions.

Sometimes I'm jealous that the boy thinks of all the fun games, but mostly I'm just thankful that the bean has someone in her life that lets her clean up her toys like this.

Happy thanksgiving!!

Birthday recap

Please indulge me in a few more birthday posts, I have so many pictures I want to share with you from all the events of the last week. We celebrated the bean's birthday with family the weekend before the big day and thankfully the weather cooperated, since we held the party at a park near our house.




I DIYed the happy birthday banner and hung paper lanterns from the rafters of the shelter. We also covered the picnic tables with brown paper and provided crayons for scribbling with. It might be hard to see in the pictures, but we had a few dozen round lollipops that we stuck into polka dotted pails to fit in with our polka dot theme.

The bean loved hanging out with all her family and friends, but the bubble machine may have been her favorite part.

When everyone gathered around and sang happy birthday, she was a bit intimidated but, thanks to a happy camcorder accident, we ended up singing twice and she loved it the second time around. I highly recommend singing twice!

And the birthday cupcake wasn't half bad either.

A few days later, on the bean's actual birthday, we went to the zoo.

She especially loved the little tubes in the prairie dog habitat.

But the ducks were a close second.

After all that excitement, we still had more presents to open, pictures to take and, of course, another round of happy birthday.

She crashed shortly after this picture was taken. It was a good day.

One Year

Today, at 3:23 pm, we will be celebrating the anniversary of the bean's birth. I've thought quite a bit over the last couple weeks about what I want to remember in this birthday post. I wanted to remember the bean's birth story and how I had wondered for nine months what contractions might feel like and if I would recognize them, then laughed when the first one came because it was unmistakable. I wanted to tell how we had taken so many classes and read even more books, but during transition, no relaxation technique could have helped me. How, at the moment of her birth, I was consumed with the pain of labor and didn't realize she had been born until our midwife told me to open my eyes and see her staring up at me.

But going back that far, to the moments before and during her birth, leaves out all of the magic and pain and tears and beauty of this first year. I also wanted to talk about how surprised I was the day I put her on her stomach for tummy time and she rolled onto her back for the first time. And how proud I was day that I tried to put a rattle in her hand and she held it for a moment before it fell to the ground. The first time she pulled herself up onto her hands and knees. The first time she looked up at us and smiled back, or the first time she laughed a big, joyous, belly laugh. Her first step. The first time she tried to put her toes in her mouth. A celebration of our bean's first year must also include a celebration of these, and many more, happy moments.

I also want to remember the struggle, to see how far we've come. I remember so many tears those first two weeks--we were all so tired and the three of us were learning how to be a family; how we were going to get along and what it would take to take care of each other. I wanted to talk about how I thought I would die if we weren't sleeping through the night by six months and how, when we still weren't (and still aren't now) we figured it out. We made it work and learned to get by and its not as hard as I thought it would be.

I wanted to tell the story of how hard breastfeeding was in the beginning, how exhausting and painful it was, how I literally could not take a shower without the bean crying to nurse while I was away. I wanted to say that sometimes it still is exhausting and painful, but now its mostly just sweet and lovely. A year is such a big milestone and, while we aren't planning to wean just yet, I'm starting to see that someday this will end and there is more sadness and less joy at that thought than I had imagined. I love being able to comfort and nurture out little bean and my heart melts a bit when she reaches for me.

Most of all, I wanted to remember the day, the exact moment when I hit my stride as a parent. I want to remember when the idea of going to the grocery store with the baby stopped terrifying me. The moment when I stopped wondering how the world could continue as it had before, while here I was just trying to function. The day I decided it wouldn't really hurt anything if I pulled my dirty hair into a ponytail and went on about my day without a shower. When was the exact moment that my peripheral vision and reflexes becamed sharpened to the point that I can now catch a dropped sippy cup midair without pausing my conversation? The day that I learned just how many diapers to pack in the diaper bag without running out or having too many? The day that being vomited on stopped fazing me? I wish I knew. Sitting here now, as the mother of a one year old, I feel calm and confident and its only when I look back at the new parent I was a year ago--scared, confused, and unsure--that I realize how far we've come, but there are no exact moments I can point to.

Today, we celebrate the bean's birth and all the joy she's brought to our lives. We celebrate the fact that we made it through this first year and we're also celebrating this subtle transition. The bean is no longer a baby. I'm not sure when in this last year it happened, but today its unequivocal. The boy and I have also grown. A year ago, we became parents but at some point during that year, we turned into moms.

Hey Good Lookin'!

In addition to preparing for the bean's upcoming birthday party, we've been busy working on three homemade gifts.

The boy deserves all the credit (or blame, depending on how you look at it) for being the brains behind this first project. Inspired by all the cute play kitchens on sites like ikeahacker, the boy decided we could handle putting one together too. We gave ourselves plenty of time for planning and building--we actually started on this way back in January. We started with Ikea's trofast storage system. We like this particular piece because its made from solid pine and we love not bringing more particleboard (and offgassed nasties from the glue) into our house.



Aww, look at how little the bean was!

After the frame was together, it just took a trip to Home Depot to get a sheet of plywood that we had cut to create our doors and back piece. At this point, the project lagged for a while, since it was hard to get up the energy (and find the time) to prime and paint all that wood, but thanks to the bean's new nap situation, we finally picked up the pace the last couple months.

Once again, the boy had a stroke of genius and suggested we leave the center third of the base cabinet unpainted to act as a cutting board. Too cute!

The base cabinet and doors were easy enough, but we wanted the back "wall" to have stripes, and taping off stripes is my job around here. It hurts my eyes a little bit to look at the tape in this picture, but the stripes are evenly spaced (more or less).

Finally (finally!) it was time to put everything together, although it didn't go as smoothly as our pictures make it seem. First of all, you may know that Ikea (like the rest of the world) uses metric measurements. Home Depot, on the other hand not so much, so we got a funny look when we asked for cuts down to the 1/8 of an inch and the helpful orange aproned man asked if he could round up. I figured we needed to sand down the plywood anyway, so what could it hurt? Well, as it turns out, that was a mistake. The boy sanded everything down before we painted it (since sanding is the boy's job around here), then sanded some more when it appeared that the doors were too big and finally sanded a third time for good measure until finally, everything fit the way it was supposed to.

In the interest of safety, the boy rounded off the corners on the three doors (oven, "drawer" under the oven, and fridge). We're also pretty sure that the back wall is never coming off. That sucker is held in with over 30 screws. There's still a sink, faucet, window, and place to hang utensils still to do, so stay tuned for the big reveal in a couple weeks when we'll (hopefully) have some pictures that weren't taken in our dingy basement.

Happy Birthday To Us!

Happy birthday to my love. May we celebrate many, many more happy birthdays together!

One year ago today

And it just keeps getting better. Happy anniversary, my love.

And not to gross you all out too much, but I, sadly, contracted a toe infection from my pedicure the day before our wedding which scarred my toenail. I just cut off the last of the deformed nail the other day--one year later. And that, my friends, is the last pedicure I will ever get. I'm not above suffering for beauty, but even I have my limits.

Slow down, January!

The boy has taken the month of January off for FMLA leave and its been so incredible for us to all have this time together. We had been plotting for weeks all the things we planned to do during the month, but its going by so quickly and there are still so many things on our list!

The first order of business was to buy a second car. When I left my job in November to become a contractor, I turned in my company car, leaving us with one to share. We are now back to being a two car family and the boy no longer has to depend on the bean and I for rides to and from the train station. This was becoming a necessity as the bean has decided to move her bedtime to just before we'd usually leave in the evening and our nights were becoming very hectic.

Coincidentally, the bean has also outgrown her infant carseat, so we've had a new one installed in each car. We have our carseats installed by our local police department, which is something I highly recommend. Its insanely difficult to get the seats installed tightly enough, particularly in an older car that doesn't have the LATCH system. The bean now rides in a "big kid" convertible carseat. We very rarely used the infant seat to carry her around in, but we are definitely missing it those times that she falls asleep in the car and we'd like to bring her into the house without waking her.

Also in January, we took the bean for her 6 month well baby visit. After gaining 2 pounds per month consistently since birth, the bean gained barely 1/2 pound between 5 and 6 months. The boy and I were noticing that she looked like she'd thinned out a bit and we were right. Perhaps we won't have a 40 pound 1 year old after all!

The bean also had her first overnight away from home on a long weekend with family in Vermont. We had a lovely time relaxing and shopping during the day while most everyone else was skiing. We did learn something that will probably be true for the rest of the bean's childhood and that is that sleeping in a strange place is hard. It was hard to get her to fall asleep and, while we've been spoiled at home with a baby who wakes to eat and then goes right back to sleep, it was a different story away from home. Each night, we had a middle of the night party lasting at least an hour and during which the bean was wide awake and ready to be up for the day. We also experienced the limitations of co-sleeping with witnesses this time--the bean goes to bed between 6 and 7 pm and we don't leave her alone in an adult bed. She won't sleep anywhere else, like say a crib or pack 'n play. Our very gracious hosts eat dinner late and each night ate without my company, as I was lying in bed either nursing or reading a book and watching over a sleeping baby. Doing something about our sleeping situation was on the list in January, but we so far have had no success. I'm still planning to write more on that later.

But moving on. The bean also took her first trip to New York City. The boy had to go to work for a few hours, so the bean and I followed along so she could be shown off to co-workers. We were both impressed with how she handled the long train and crowded subway rides. After this trip and the long car trip to Vermont, we're starting to feel a bit more confident about being able to survive a trip by plane in the near future.

The bean liked her mommy's big chair!

We have continued on with solid foods and the bean is finally starting to get the hang of it. She is so cute as she opens her mouth when she sees the spoon approaching. She's still not eating very much, just a tablespoon or so a day, but at least she's eating something.

Finally, we started experimenting with the potty this month. Our plan is to get her familiar with sitting on it over the next couple months in hopes of having a routine of going potty several times a day by the time she's a year old. The bean is obesessed with standing and has starting learning how to pull herself up and each time that she sits on her potty, she lets us know that she's done by just standing up. I'm simultaneously proud that she's learning new things and sad that our little baby is gone.

And now we have one last week in which to cram the remainder of our list. It will be so hard to see the boy going off to work again. And with February, comes our first days at daycare.

Christmas Recap

Our first christmas with the bean was amazing and maybe a bit overwhelming. We opened presents on christmas eve with the bean's 6 cousins, 5 of whom are under the age of 6, and it was a completely different experience looking after the bean with so many other children running around. So many kids plus presents meant there were many new and interesting (and dangerous!) things on the floor for her to get in her mouth. Not to mention that the bean and I usually spend our days alone in a fairly quiet house. She didn't know what to make of all the noise and excitement and, as a result, didn't sleep much at all for two days. Santa didn't grant my wish and end the teething, but we kept a big supply of teethers on hand during our travels and, despite teething pain, chaos, and sleepiness, she was in pretty good spirits.

And her moms had so much fun! The bean was much more into the present thing than we expected, helping to rip some of the paper and playing with each new toy as we opened it. We loved playing with her toys almost as much as she did and she was given so much stuff that we've put half of it away to pull out little by little over the next couple months. We were so grateful for the things the bean was given, but at the same time we're struggling with worrying about not going overboard on presents, especially when she's older, in order to give some meaning to christmas other than just getting stuff.

For our part, we really tried to choose quality toys that the bean would play with for a long time. We don't have a very large house, and this has helped us to really think about each purchase. We consider the safety--we prefer toys made of wood or fabric, we feel that these are safer, although you really have to take the manufacturer's word on the safety of wood finishes; we think about how much use the bean is likely to get out of it--blocks, stacking cups, toy foods, and dolls are play staples throughout most of childhood, in my opinion; and finally, there's an aesthetic component--large, brightly colored plastic toys that play music or make a lot of noise just don't do it for us. As I'm typing this right in front of our big plastic exersaucer, I feel the need to say that there are definite exceptions. We originally had a "no plastic" rule, but found it very difficult to follow so now we just try to limit it. Two brands that we love and that meet our requirements are Melissa & Doug and Plan Toys. These are the brands we directed our family to when they asked us what to get.

The bean was given some really great things, including this little rocking horse that she loves:

But by far, her favorite present right now is this pull toy, which we thought she wouldn't use for a few more months. As you can see, the flag is her favorite part.

The boy and I like the idea of all the presents "arriving" under the tree on christmas morning, so we stayed up on christmas eve putting the presents out. Obviously, this was more for us than for her, since she had already seen all her presents (and helped us wrap them), but its a nice tradition that we wanted to get in the habit of practicing. We opened presents christmas morning just the three of us.

Ha, I just realized how huge the bean's feet look in this picture. She has room to grow in those PJs!

The boy is really the toy expert around our house and started early (was it September?) working on the bean's christmas list. We wanted to get her a big present, but there really weren't any "big" things that are age appropriate, so the boy had the great idea of getting the table and chairs set. We hope she'll get lots of use out of it in the next couple years.

Soon, little one, you'll sit at it without Mama's help!

And we had yet another celebration to attend late in the day on christmas. I love this picture of the three of us because the bean's expression says it all--she was done and ready for christmas to be over.

This time of year, especially, I miss my family on the West coast, but I have to admit that there was a little part of me that was glad that we didn't have 4 christmases to attend.

Merry Christmas

Today, as always, I am so thankful for my little family, who are the greatest gifts I could ever hope for and I am wishing for love and joy in your lives as well, now and in the new year.

Merry christmas from krafty, the boy and the bean!

Thankful

This year, as always, I am so thankful to have the boy in my life. I am so very fortunate to be able to spend my life with someone so loving, understanding and supportive.



I'm thankful that, when one of the relatives we planned to spend the weekend with came down with the flu, it was a mild case. I'm thankful that, when we decided to change our plans at the last minute so as to not expose the bean to said flu, family friends were willing to let us crash their thanksgiving dinner.



Most of all, I am so very thankful to have a happy and healthy little bean. Every day I am struck with what a huge responsibility we have to care for and educate this little person. I am so thankful for the opportunity and I promise to do the absolute best job I can.

Bittersweet

Yesterday, our family had a court date. The boy's second parent adoption of the bean was finalized.

The judge was the same man who performed our marriage ceremony and who presided over my name change and it was nice to see everyone at the court and show off the bean. Afterwards, we went out for a celebratory lunch but it didn't feel like there was much to celebrate.


We are fortunate enough to live in a state that recognizes gay marriage, which means that we have both been listed as parents on the bean's birth certificate since her birth. The second parent adoption is more of a formality, meant to protect us in less gay-friendly areas. We know we are very fortunate to have these options available to us to protect our family.

And yet, we have so far to go. In order to obtain the adoption, we were required to submit to a home study by the state. A social worker visited our home in order to determine whether we were suitable parents and our bean was appointed her own lawyer who was asked to determine whether it was in the bean's best interest to remain with her family of origin. The whole process was demoralizing, maddeningly slow, and felt unnecessary. As the boy said, "I just adopted my own daughter."

I spent the day feeling sad that we had to do this, happy that we were able to do it, and sad again that not every gay couple has this option.




But the bean did get to help swing the gavel. That was fun!

Happy Halloween!

Last year, I took christmas off. I was exhausted from my pregnancy and still battling with morning sickness and the idea of pulling all of the decorations out of storage and trying to set up a tree was too much for me. I asked the boy if it would be too terribly disappointing if we just skipped it. The boy agreed but added, "This is the last year you'll get away with that!"

Very true. Now that we have a child, we agree that there is no more skipping holidays, which is why its funny that halloween was almost here before I looked at the boy one day and said, "We have to take the bean to the pumpkin patch!" Some of my favorite fall memories include taking a hayride out to the pumpkin patch where I searched and searched for the most perfect pumpkin to bring home. I wanted to start that tradition for the bean as well.

So we went. And took a hayride. She picked the perfect pumpkin.

And decorated it up.

Dressed as a chicken.

And didn't miss out on celebrating her first holiday.*

*I think we get a pass for the 4th of July. She was 4 days old, we took a picture. Good enough!

Flattery Will Get You Everywhere

Its been quite an adjustment getting used to my post-pregnancy body. I expected that it would take some time to get back into my jeans, but I hadn't planned on 'the girls' partaking in the steroids that my butt and hips obviously abused the last several months. The first couple weeks postpartum, in my sleep deprived, hormone crazed state, I would look in the mirror and proclaim that nothing had stayed where I had left it.

Every couple weeks, I've been optimistically pulling out pre-pregnancy clothes to try on and see how they're fitting. The weather has been getting cooler lately, so today I pulled out a warmer shirt that I haven't worn since last fall and the results were, um, unpleasant. I said to the boy, "Why doesn't this shirt fit me? It fit fine before I got pregnant!"

The response? "Yes honey, but you were flat-chested then."

The Unexpected

We knew from the beginning that we could plan all we wanted, but there would be no way to predict how things would go with a new baby. Still, I've been surprised by the things that haven't gone according to plan.

Diapers. We just used the disposables provided at the hospital for those first couple days and switched to cloth once we got home. Then the bean got a horrible case of diaper rash that caused her so much pain that she was wailing inconsolably. The bean cried quite a bit those first couple weeks, but it was always for food and she was easily quieted at my breast. With the rash, she was in too much pain to eat and we were heartbroken that we could do little to comfort her. We tried several different things, but the only way we could find to get rid of the rash and keep it away was to switch to pampers. We tried some more earth-friendly (and less chemical-laden) brands, but they too brought on the rash. You can imagine that's difficult for this tree-hugging mama to swallow, but the bean's in charge. Now that her sensitive skin has started to toughen up a bit, we are very slowly starting to reintroduce the cloth by using one or two a day, but we may never be the full-time cloth diapering family I thought we'd be.

Sleeping. Before the bean was born, I posted about my concerns over our sleeping arrangements. I wasn't exactly sure where everyone would start out sleeping, but I had always thought that I would bring the bean into bed with us at some point during the night to nurse her and we would all sleep together for at least a couple hours. As it turns out, the logistics of that were really too difficult for me. Nursing in bed is not as easy as I thought it might be and I turned out to be way too paranoid to sleep with the bean in the bed. We did try out the snuggle nest for two nights before it was returned. You still have to pick up your baby to get him or her into the thing and the bean always woke up when I picked her up those first few weeks. I figured if I was going to risk waking her, I might as well put her in the bassinet. Yes, the ancient bassinet is where she ended up sleeping her first two months. The boy had the brilliant idea to remove all the lacy coverings, which allowed us a clear view into it from our bed so we could easily check in the night that she was still breathing (c'mon, I know all you parents have done it too). This setup has worked really well, but the bean is growing so quickly that she's within a couple inches of not being able to sleep in it with her legs straight out. She's been able to stretch and simultaneously bump all four sides with various body parts for a few weeks, so this past weekend we moved the crib into our bedroom. (We're still not ready to give up on being able to check her breathing in the middle of the night.) We now have a crib at the foot of our bed and we sleep with our heads at the foot so we can check her more easily. We have co-slept a handful of times and for sure the bean sleeps great in bed with us, but I am still paranoid about the whole thing and sleep better myself when she's in her own bed. Had we known, I guess we could have put the crib in our room from the beginning.

Baby Stuff. This was the biggest surprise. I was adamant that we not have big piles of plastic baby accoutrement around our house. That and my aversion to anything single-purpose led us to make very thoughtful, well researched purchases. We got a pack and play that came with an activity mat in tasteful, subdued colors. Travel, downstairs naps, and play--three uses! We chose a similarly subdued rocker. No bouncy seat, no swing; we thought we'd hold her or have her in a baby carrier most of the day anyway. Turns out the bean's aesthetic and mine are very different. She didn't much care for subdued and hated being in a carrier. (And not once has she been able to stay asleep when we put her in the pack and play.) Fortunately, we have some experienced friends and relatives that answered our calls for help when we couldn't manage to keep this baby entertained for more than 30 seconds at a time. We now have a living room full of brightly colored (some plastic) baby gear. She loves her hand-me-down activity mat and bouncy seat so much that I feel bad I almost deprived her of them. Lesson learned. We will continue to make thoughtful, earth-friendly purchases, but our living room decor will no longer factor into the decision.

On a different note, I was completely unprepared for how being a parent would change me. When the boy and I first got together, we spent every moment of our time getting to know one another. We stayed up all night having deep, intimate conversations and, after sleeping an hour or two, would pick up the next morning right where we left off. We would lock ourselves in the bedroom all weekend, emerging only to eat or walk the dog. We missed a lot of work in those days because nothing seemed as important as spending time together.

Being a mama to the bean is like that. Its mostly one-sided, but it has a similar intensity. I've spent every day and night with her for 2 1/2 months now--watching her learn new skills and discover new things, studying her in an attempt to predict when she'll be hungry, tired, or wanting to play. Its been such a short period of time, but its hard to remember what things were like before she arrived. I didn't think that I spent very much time thinking about myself before but, in comparison, it seems like that's all I did. Now, everything is for the bean. My needs are squished in around the edges. The poor boy is somehow piled in on top of that. In a way, I feel that its a juggling act, but in other ways its really not. The bean needs us to do absolutely everything for her, so she wins out each time. In such a short period of time, this little being has become my universe and its amazing to me how natural it feels.

The boy and the bean. My two favorite people.

Late Night Confusion

Last night, as I was climbing into bed at 5am, the boy woke and asked me, "What are you doing up?"

I took a long pause, trying to decide how to respond. "Did you forget we have a baby?"

"Oh, yeah."

Silly boy!

Birthing the Bean

Monday morning we had our last midwife appointment. We had spent the weekend trying all the induction techniques we could think of (other than castor oil), but we just couldn't get anything started. The midwife checked me (3cm), swept my membranes (for the second time) and scheduled me for an induction on Wednesday. We talked about the castor oil and she said if I was going to take it, I should do it that day. I was nervous to take the stuff, so we decided to wait until Tuesday morning to try it since I had been nauseous all day and didn't want to make myself more sick.

I woke up just after midnight on Tuesday morning to go to the bathroom and by the time I got back in bed, I had my first painful contraction and then another one 5 minutes later. I timed contractions for 20 minutes, then woke up the boy to say, "I think I'm in labor, but you should go back to sleep." I drank some water and paced around downstairs to see if the contractions would keep coming. When it seemed like this was the real thing, I tried going back to bed, but it was too uncomfortable to lay down. I decided to labor in the living room trying a bunch of different things to get comfortable--labor ball, hands and knees, standing, etc. I was really tired and wanted to conserve energy, so I ended up spending most of the time propped up on the couch so I could rest between contractions but still be sitting up when they hit. The boy kept checking on me throughout the night to see how I was doing. I was nauseous and finally around 7 am, I threw up like I never have in my life. I can't even explain how violently I wretched except to say that when I looked in the mirror afterwards I burst into tears. Hundreds of blood vessels had broken in my face and I was literally covered with large red blotches. It was terrifying. By that point, I was done with laboring at home. My contractions were between 3-4 minutes apart and only 45 seconds long (we would have preferred them to be closer to a minute long), but I just wanted to go to the hospital. The boy called one of our midwives who offered to check me at their office.

The trip to the office was torture--I made the boy pull over every time a contraction hit because I couldn't handle the bumps while contracting. We finally made it to the midwive's office and learned I was 4-5 cms dilated. We were given the choice to head to the hospital, go back home, or walk around at the office for a bit. I just wanted to go to the hospital and get settled so I didn't have to move around anymore, so we went in. I had several contractions while walking into the hospital and had to keep stopping and leaning on something until it passed. A bunch of people offered us a wheelchair or asked if we needed help, but it was a point of pride for me to walk into labor and delivery myself (I can't tell you why this was, but its how I felt). We finally got there and got to our room, but had to wait a while to get checked in (and we were waiting for the midwife who would attend our birth to arrive). I wasn't sure what to do with myself, but ended up sitting cross legged on the floor and stayed that way during check in and the initial 20 minute fetal monitoring.

Finally, our midwife arrived, I was taken off the monitors and given the OK to get in the whirlpool. While I was in the tub, they gave me some IV fluids, since I had been vomiting. The tub really helped with the pain of contractions, but also worked to slow them down. At some point while I was in the tub, our doula arrived and shortly after I got the shivers. I had heard that shaking was normal after delivery, but didn't realize it would happen during labor as well. I was so glad the doula was there to reassure us about that because it was a little disconcerting to be shaking while in a warm bathtub! I was in the tub for over an hour and then had to get out again to spend some more time on the fetal monitors. Our nurse was great, but was insistent that I be flat on my back during the monitoring, which was the worst possible position for the pain. While I was in the position anyway, the midwife checked me and I was still at 5 cm. If sweetie and I had learned anything during all our classes and reading, it was that we shouldn't invest any energy it what those numbers were. It was drilled into us over and over that labor can stall at any dilation and can also progress quickly. I had decided to just ignore the numbers and focus on getting through the contractions. Still, I had been in labor for almost 12 hours and it had been almost 4 since I was first checked at 4-5 cms. The midwife suggested she break my water to try to get things moving. I always thought I would resist having my water broken because, once its done, you have a limited amount of time to deliver before they begin pushing for a c-section. I quickly agreed, though, because I realized that I would be worn out and unable to continue if I hadn't delivered in another 12 hours.

After my water was broken, contractions became more intense almost immediately. The midwife recommended I try taking a shower, but I couldn't get the water hot enough or the water pressure high enough to do much to alleviate the pain I was feeling in my back, so I got back in the tub. While laboring in the tub the second time, I became nauseous again and started really having a hard time handling contractions. This was the first time that I turned to the boy and said I couldn't do it anymore. Rather than making it through each contraction one at a time, it became about making it through a third of the contraction. They would start out OK and I would do a good job of relaxing through it, but at the height of each one my body would involuntarily tense in a way that felt like wretching. After the peak, I would regain control and be able to relax again. I told our doula that I thought I was pushing. I really wasn't sure because it wasn't as though I was making a choice to push and tensing my muscles--my body was just taking over and doing it without any help from me. The doula reassured me that I would feel like pushing when I felt more pressure down low, so I figured I was wrong about what was happening. After an hour or more in the tub, it was time to get out again and be hooked back up to the monitors and have my midwife check me. I was at 8 cms. My back pain became overwhelming, along with the nausea. I threw up again and remember being embarrassed at having done it in front of everyone, particularly the boy who was right next to me, but I quickly forgot about that. From that point on, I kept my eyes closed and turned completely inward. I was aware of what was going on around me, but I didn't feel a part of it at all. Looking back now, I know that I was in transition but at the time, I couldn't think about progressing. I could only focus on what was happening at that very second. It wasn't about having a baby, it was about surviving each new contraction. After this point, I also started saying no to everything anyone told me to do. The midwife told me the baby was trying to turn her head to make her way down and that I should get out of bed and on my feet, but I couldn't face the idea of moving. It wasn't until I overheard the midwife tell our nurse that I needed to get out of bed "if we have any hope of making this work" that I agreed to move (out of fear of a c-section).

Since my eyes were closed, everything that happened at this point just happened--voices came and went in my ears, pillows appeared, hands were on my back, but I wasn't always sure who was doing what. I was set up leaning over a counter and was told to pace around the room between contractions. I was really vocalizing with every contraction and tried to moan like I was being told to do, but ended up mostly yelling "oww" and "it hurts so much." Of course, there was also a lot of "no" and "I can't do this" thrown in anytime anyone told me to do anything. This was absolutely the worst point, as I labored through those last 2 cms. The contractions were so intense that I needed to lean over the counter for the first and last third of them and then stood up straight and pushed 2 or 3 times at the height of each. Someone told me not to push, but then I heard our midwife saying that I should go ahead and do whatever my body was telling me to do. I had no choice in the matter--there was no way I could not push. The boy was helping me walk around between contractions and when I felt another one coming, I would rush back to the counter so I could lean. Remember also that my water was broken and I was leaking fluid with each contraction. That is such a sanitized way of describing what was happening--the reality was much more gruesome than it sounds and I was again horrified by it.

While we were walking around, I had to open my eyes, of course, and I saw that everyone was rushing around getting things ready. The baby warmer was brought out and supplies were being piled up. I didn't understand why they were doing this--I still didn't believe the baby was coming any time soon. The midwife mercifully asked me to get back in the bed and checked me again. I was fully dilated and ready to push. Rather than being excited by this news, I complained. I didn't want to push, I really didn't want to do anything but tell everyone that I couldn't do this anymore. My legs were lifted for me and I'm pretty sure someone had to lift my hands and force me to hold my legs up. I began pushing because I was being told to. The midwife had me sort of roll over--I pushed for a few contractions on my back, some my side, in a squatting position, and then the other side. At one point, I believe the baby's heart rate declined because the nurse asked me to not push for one contraction and, as much as I didn't want to push, it was worse to not push. I complained about that too. After that one contraction, we were back to pushing and the midwife asked me what position I wanted to continue in. I could have squatted, which was what I had planned, but I was just too tired and too scared of more pain to move, so I continued pushing on my back. This may sound strange, but I was still in my own world and not thinking about the baby at all. The doula kept telling me the baby was coming and I'd think to myself, "No, she's not!" I guess part of it was that I was just trying to get through what was happening to me and part of it was that I didn't want to get my hopes up in case I ended up with a very long labor. So, when the midwife started talking about the color of the baby's hair, I told myself that the head can move down with each push and then move back up between contractions. A few minutes later, the midwife asked if I wanted to feel her head crowning. I felt her little head there, but for some reason it didn't register that she was crowning. I was waiting to feel the "ring of fire" that I'd heard about and I didn't think she could really be crowning if I hadn't felt it. A few minutes later, I felt incredible pressure and almost a bulging feeling and I thought maybe that had been her starting to crown. The midwife asked me to open my eyes and I really didn't want to (I may have even said no), but thankfully I did. I opened my eyes and that was a moment I will never forget. I had birthed the bean's head and shoulders and there was this baby right there, just looking around at everyone. I was so in my own world I had almost forgotten we were having a baby, but seeing her there brought me right back to reality and I couldn't remember a time when I wasn't thinking about her. I looked up and saw the boy, who was also watching the bean. There was so much emotion on both our faces. I later learned that the boy had caught her as she came out. The midwife then told me to reach down and pick her up, which I did and she came right onto my belly and just layed there and looked around. Unfortunately, they had to take her away immediately because there had been some meconium when my water was broken. They checked her out for a few minutes, which felt like an eternity, then she was back on my chest. I wasn't quite done whining, though, so I told the midwife at that point that I didn't want to birth the placenta--I was done! It ended up being no big deal and it was a lot less pressure without everyone yelling at me to push. During that time, we were told to keep the bean crying for a while until she pinked up, but once her color was good she latched on and ate for over an hour. In fact, she stayed up nursing most of that first night.

Everything turned out exactly the way we wanted, despite our concerns about being in the hospital. The only little thing I wish I had done differently is that I wish I had forced myself to suck it up and push in a squatting position. My tailbone was broken during delivery, which made getting in and out of bed extremely painful those first couple days and sitting to nurse for hours is torture. I wonder if it would have been different had I not pushed on my back. Still, its hard to complain. We ended up with the most beautiful little girl and were able to avoid the induction and have a natural birth.

Birthday Couple

Thirty-three years ago today, my sweetie was celebrating birthday number two while all the way on the other side of the country, little old me was being born. We took our dear sweet time finding one another, but I am so thankful our paths did finally cross and so fortunate to have such a loving, supportive person in my life. I look forward to us sharing the next thirty-odd birthdays (and another thirty-odd after that, if I could be so greedy).

Happy 35th, Sweetie!

Wedding Recap

Yay! I finally have proofs back from the photographer and I apologize in advance for posting so many. He did such an amazing job--I can't decide which ones are my favorites.

So, the weekend started on Thursday night when I picked my parents up from the airport. We got home late and just hung out for a little while before heading off to bed.

Friday morning, I dropped the boy off at the train (poor thing had to work) and worked on a little bit of wedding stuff until my Mom woke up. We hung out for a while and then Mom, Stepdad and I went out to run some errands (including picking up the chocolates that would be our favors). Later in the day, we were off to my (now) mother-in-law's house. On the way, I called the sweetie and we talked about everything that we had done to prepare. Up until that point, I was feeling really good about everything, but at one point in the conversation, I said, "Well, I think we're ready" and then the nerves set in. I guess since I no longer had any details to obsess over, I could start obsessing over being nervous.

We met up with my mother-in-law and sister-in-law and all got our nails done for the next day. (Well, all except for Stepdad, who found a place to have a beer while we were at the salon.) This was the first time our families were meeting and we were all a little nervous about how things would go, but everyone got along incredibly well. After the nail appointment, we picked up some pizza, the boy arrived from work and we all had dinner. After dinner, some family friends stopped by. It was nice to hang out with everyone and I'm glad my parents got the chance to meet so many people before the wedding.

Everyone was getting along so well that the boy and I were able to sneak off and the boy gave me a beautiful music box that plays Pachelbel Canon (which was playing as I walked into the ceremony) and a necklace to wear with my dress. I had purchased a necklace, but the night before I'd decided it was too big to wear and was going to forgo a necklace altogether. The sweetie rushed out during work on Friday to pick something up for me--I'm such a lucky girl! The sweetie's mother also gave me a handkerchief that her mother had made. She gave it to me and told me to use it for the wedding, then pass it down to our little girl. It was so touching and meant so much to me that she would consider giving me something like that.

My Mom, Stepdad, and I headed home where I was supposed to go right to bed, but Mom and I stayed up late chatting. Before I knew it, it was 11 o'clock and the sweetie was calling to order me to bed!

Of course, I couldn't sleep in Saturday morning. I was up at 5 and tried to convince myself to go back to sleep until 7:30, when Mom came it to tell me to get up. (I later learned that the sweetie had done the same thing--so cute!) We loaded up the car and headed to the town where the wedding was held. I kept playing through the day in my head trying to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything. Saturday morning I went over it with my Mom, tellling her everything that was going to happen and everything that we'd need. I kept thinking that we had everything covered and even my Mom was impressed that I was so organized (oh, we later learned how wrong we were!).

Mom, stepdad and I had a nice, relaxed breakfast and then went to check in to the hotel where the sweetie and I would be staying. We left stepdad there to watch TV and get dressed while we were off to the salon. I thought we might be pressed for time later in the day, so I made sure we arrived a little early in case they could take us early. They were able to start on our hair immediately when we walked in and I was so happy with how my hair came out! The stylist did exactly as I wanted (which is usually not how things work out for me) and everyone kept telling me how nice it looked. I had a makeup appointment immediately after my hair and here's where my plan to be early hit a snag. We were done with my hair early, but the makeup artist was late. Mom and I went to the cafe next door for something to drink while we waited (me in sweatpants and a tiara!) until finally, the makeup artist arrived and I got my makeup done and we were on our way.

We rushed back to the hotel and the photographer had already called to say he was heading over to the room. I sort of wish we had taken our time more, but we were both panicked and rushed to get dressed. Mom helped me throw all my many layers of undergarments on and then literally threw the dress on over my head. At some point during all of this, the flowers arrived, although I hadn't seen them and the photographer had started snapping pictures.


I had reminded myself many times to put my shoes on before the dress, since I couldn't reach my feet with it on, but of course I forgot. My Mom very graciously agreed to get on the floor and put my shoes on for me.

The boy was going to meet us at the hotel for a couple pictures before we all headed over to the the restaurant, but we had rushed so much that we were ready early. After all that excitement, we just sat around and waited (and laughed a lot about me trying to sit in a chair with my huge dress on!).


Finally, the boy arrived and waited in the hotel lobby for me to come in. We took some pictures of us seeing each other for the first time and me pinning the boutonniere on. The boy looked so handsome and I felt like such a lucky girl! (Still do, in fact.)



We then did what was maybe not the brightest thing. We went over to city hall in the town where we were married to take some pictures in the gazebo. I think it might have been about 20 degrees, but the sun was out and it looked so pretty! We ran to the gazebo, stood there for a few seconds and then ran back to the car. We were both shivering so much, I'm not sure how we managed to smile for pictures, but they turned out so good.


Then on to the restaurant, where we double checked the room where the ceremony would be held, then headed upstairs to the reception room. When I first walked in the room, I was so impressed with how beautiful our centerpieces had turned out! They were exactly what I had pictured and looked even better than I had hoped in the room.


We had a bunch of extra candles to go on the tables, but quickly decided that we already had too much stuff and removed those. We put some candles around where the cake would go, set out the favors, table numbers and seating cards and were done. I was so worried about time, but we kept getting everything done ahead of schedule! The boy headed downstairs to start greeting our guests and I waited for the cake to arrive, so I could make sure it was placed in the right spot. The cake came and it, too, was more beautiful than I had hoped. I was so pleased with how everything came together.


Then it was just time to wait. My Mom, stepdad, and the photographer waited with me at the top of the staircase until everyone had arrived and we were ready to go. When the officiant arrived, he came up to introduce himself. We talked for a minute and then he asked me for the marriage license. Oh right. I guess we were supposed to bring that with us, huh? Funny, it didn't make it on any of my lists and as many times as I'd gone over everything, NO ONE picked up on the fact that we were overlooking it. I was afraid he'd say that we couldn't get married or that the marriage date would need to be different on the license, but he said it happens all the time and just to bring it to him Monday. Whew!

Finally, someone came to tell me everyone was ready and then I started shaking. I was so nervous! I came down the staircase with my Mom and stepdad following me and the photographer snapping pictures. At the bottom, Mom handed me my flowers and I walked in. I was seeing everyone for the first time, so I kept smiling and looking around, trying to say hello to everyone. The boy was nowhere in sight, but I just headed toward the officiant and finally I saw the sweetie behind some people off to the side. We held hands and the ceremony started. I started to get emotional right away and had a hard time saying "I do." When the boy started with the vows, I couldn't hold it in and started crying. I wanted to look into the boy's eyes while we exchanged vows, but I knew that the tears were contagious, so I tried to look away for part of it. It was no good. We were both a mess and with no tissues! (Mother-in-law's handkerchief was safely pinned to the inside of my dress for luck). It was such a touching moment, but a little embarrassing in front of all those people--yikes!

We exchanged rings,


kissed,


and were done and heading upstairs for the reception. We mingled with our guests a little bit and then took parents and siblings out to a separate room for formal pictures.



Back to the room for dinner and more chatting, then we cut the cake (which was sooo good!)

and snuck away again for a few more pictures


and before we knew it, everyone was heading home.

We cleaned up, sent my parents back off to our apartment and headed back to the hotel. The next morning, we met our parents for brunch at the hotel, which was so nice. I'm really glad we decided to do that, so the parents could spend a little more time together and we could go over all the events of the previous night.

It was such a great day and I only wish it hadn't gone by so quickly. I spent the entire day with a smile on my face and am so happy we are able to be married. Hard as it is to get used to, I'm so glad to be Mrs. Sweetie!