Audrey Royal: Birth Story

Almost six months later sounds like a great time to record a birth story.

Audrey was probably my favorite birth experience yet! It was incredible, amazing, and fun!

My due date was set for November 7. Mark was leaving for China November 14, so I had an induction date for November 11 just in case, but I wanted to avoid inducing if at all possible. Lucky for us, this little girl decided to pop out a week early on November 1 to give her daddy a little more time with her before his week and a half trip. Although, I have a theory my due date was way off and she came late (my menstrual cycles were every six weeks before I had her so it was hard to tell what was goin' on!).

At any rate, Sunday November 1 at around 4am I started feeling some contractions. I felt like they were about ten minutes apart. a little before 5am I decided to do some cat stretches to try to get some of the pressure off my back. I got out of bed, did one head up stretch, then did the head down, arched back stretch and POP! My water broke. I ran to the bathroom (SUPER EXCITEDLY!) and changed before deciding to wake up Mark to tell him. I woke him up and started finishing packing my hospital bag--talking about how we shouldn't wait because who knows how fast I'd go this time! Mark was...well, tired. He suggested we try to rest until the contractions were closer together so we wouldn't have to wake up grandma and grandpa to come watch the other two littles yet. I reluctantly agree and tried to get some sleep.

Well, if anything kept me awake it was my excitement at having a baby--not contractions. They actually started SLOWING DOWN after my water broke and I woke up at around 9am (if there is ever an excuse to make the hubs wake up with the kids on a weekend, labor is it) to almost nothing at all. By 11am contractions were basically non-existent.

I called the hospital and they recommended I not wait longer than 10hrs after my water broke to come to the hospital. So, grandparents took the kids to church and Mark and napped until around 3pm when we decided we should head to the hospital.

At this point I was getting a little nervous--would they have to give me pitocin or something to get things going again? With all the horror stories I'd heard I was NOT looking forward to the remainder of my Sunday.

We got to the hospital and I felt so weird checking in without even having contractions. Especially thinking back on the craziness of my previous birth with Sophie! Everything was so strangely... calm.

Well, they first told me that it looked like my water HADN'T broken which I strongly disagree with. Then they told be that I had to get on some kind of antibiotics because I was strep B positive or whatever it's called. My Dr's office had never informed me of that, so it's a good thing I came in when I did considering they like to give the antibiotics 4 hrs before delivery!

Anyhow, after checking me and testing some swabs of nasty they concluded my water actually HAD broken (thank you very much!). And they could continue with the labor process. Luckily them checking me a couple times seemed to stimulate something and I started having contractions again! Then the nurse mentioned little Audrey was probably sleepy and they did some kind of vibrate/sound thing towards my stomach and BOOM the contractions really started picking up! She did some pretty crazy kicks (compared to her basically not moving all day--also a little worrisome for me at the time), and I think it must have scared her right out!

So, after all this they moved me into labor and delivery around 5:30-6pm. My contractions were about every 5 minutes and I was 5cm dilated (which sounds impressive, but at my Dr visit a week before I was a 3 soo....). We knew we wanted to name her Audrey, but still hadn't decided on a middle name so we jokingly told the nurses to start offering suggestions after we got settled.

I was feeling GOOD though! I was excited for this baby to come out and I was getting ready to get in my "labor zone." Mark, however, didn't know what to do since our other deliveries had been so drastically different. He was sweet and kept asking if I needed anything when I all I wanted was for him to be quiet and stay in his own little corner until I needed my back rub. Don't mess with a pregnant lady in her zone, man!

Unfortunately I started to get some back labor--just like I had with Ellie. I had Mark rub my back while I tried all different positions to relieve the pressure. At around 8pm The nurse came in to check me and said I was 7cm.

I knew then that I had a choice. I felt like I could still handle the pain. It was fine--I was cool doin' my thing. But I thought about my birth experience with Sophie and wasn't sure if I wanted a small replay. Don't get me wrong--I loved how fast Sophie came and how I was able to hand everything....until the end. Because I felt like I couldn't handle the transition I got the epidural so late and it was great--but I loved my epidural experience with Ellie more when I got it early on enough to have some of it wear off. I didn't get that chance with Sophie and I couldn't move as much right after.

So, do I wait things out until the breaking point, or do I just get the epidrual now since I no longer felt like I needed to worry about slowing things down?

I decided what the heck! Let's get the epidural.

Best. Decision. Ever.

It WAS weird getting the epidural when I felt like I could still handle things, but it was crazy how the mood in the room changed when I did.

Instead of needing to focus on each contraction I could sit back and enjoy my husband's company and we could celebrate together the fact that our baby was about to be born! We started laughing and joking and just letting the complete excitement of our baby fill the room!

We decided to turn on the world series since we'd been keeping up with it for once. Living with

Mark's avid baseball fan dad AND having my hometown team compete in the series had made us pretty exited about it all! I haven't always been super into following sports teams. Still aren't. But I was so thrilled that the KC Royals were doing so well in "the" sport I married into, I had kept tabs on all the scores.

We didn't expect a win, but there it was--in the delivery room! Around 10pm we saw the crazy extra innings and we cheered our team together--letting that awesomeness combine with everything else! Then, when they were pretty clearly the winners but the inning wasn't over I turned to Mark and told him I felt like I needed to start pushing. His reply: "Don't you want to see them win this thing?!"

I laughed and told him to just get the nurse and have the Dr called. By the time he showed up they would win.

Sure enough, I was dilated and the nurse said I was a couple minutes away from pushing. My Dr. came in basically right after the Royals officially won the world series. And with that, I was ready to push. Sure enough, she was out minutes later after just two pushes!

The first words out of the Dr and the nurse's mouths were "Look at all that hair!" and "What a big baby!"
was so happy! WE were so happy! It was such a joyful, exciting wonderful experience.

The nurses/Dr were right--she was a good size baby weighing 9lb 12oz and 21 inches long. And what a beautiful one too.

Mark turned to me while we held her and asked what I thought about making her middle name Royal. I was hesitant at first, but loved how tied her name would be to the fun experience of her birth. And so Audrey Royal got her name, and I LOVE it. She is truly ROYAL and we love her to pieces!

Why Can't I Be a Feminist Too?

Let's do a little exercise. Just indulge me. Read the following word and phrases and ask yourself how each word makes you feel.

Feminism

The History of Feminism

The Modern Feminist Movement

Thanks readers. Now think about those feelings and keep them to yourself or comment below. The following are my own feelings.

Truth be told, the word "feminism" makes me kind of uncomfortable. Mostly because I don't know how to feel. My following feelings on the two phrases should help you understand why.

The History of Feminism: Well, this makes me feel pretty proud to be a woman. It makes me think of the suffragettes fighting for their right to vote and to have the same privileges as men. It makes me think of women throughout the 20th century who refused to be put in the category of "housewife" simply because of their gender. This phrase makes me feel like we've come a long way, and I'm so grateful. It's a pretty happy feeling.

The Modern Feminist Movement: Well, this one is not so happy. To be honest, it makes me think about angry women wanting to be treated like men. And I don't mean politically--I mean in almost every respect. It makes me think of women who say that they are proud of their female bodies, but don't want to take all the responsibilities of having them. The feeling is sad and frustrating because with these ideas of Modern Feminism, is a feeling of being left out.

I know many, of not most feminists aren't crazy, angry women... some are, but of course there were also plenty of those when the Western Feminist movement first started. I'm just telling you the picture that comes to my head.

I know, too, that pro-abortion and things like refusing to have men open doors for you is not all that modern feminism consists of. But, I feel like it is at least a fairly big part. Maybe I'm wrong, but let's say I'm right.

If I'm right, then that means I'm not a feminist. While I support women's rights for equal political and economic participation (among others), because of a few things I disagree on with modern feminists, I am kicked out of the club. Because I believe abortion is wrong. Because I like it when my husband opens the door for me. Because I don't think it makes sense for women to compete in most sports directly with men [Note: not the same as compete in the same sports as men do] because like it or not, our bodies ARE different. 

Can't a feminist like a little baking too? :)

And, what's more--and perhaps the most damaging to my feminist counterparts--I am a Stay At Home Mom (STAHM). That's right--I actually CHOOSE to stay home with my children every day. I clean the house and I cook dinners. I change diapers  and soothe two sometimes very fussy girls all day. There are weeks were I go days without leaving the house (okay...that's kind of embarrassing...don't judge!). I do the laundry--the closest my husband ever gets to helping is when I beg him to retrieve a load from the dryer. He works all day--achieving tangible goals--while I run around at home all day doing things like cooking meals and making up crafts and things for my two year old to entertain herself with.

I'm aware that according to the above description, I do not fit the "modern feminist" role. And that's why not being able to proudly call myself a "feminist" really bothers me sometimes.

Not because I want to go out picketing for my right to work because I'm oppressed by male authority figures, but because I am a strong woman too and I deserve just as much respect in my position as a woman who decides to work does. I may not work full-time, but I have a four-year degree and try to continue to educate myself. I am a 100% equal partner with my husband in all of our decisions. I'm just as smart and capable of critical thinking as most men and women with my same educational background are. Just because I choose to stay at home with my children doesn't mean I'm oppressed, brainwashed, or stupid. My husband has always said the choice to work outside the home is completely up to me. But staying home is a choice I made that is right for me and my family.

Now, all that said, I should acknowledge that in the past year or two I have seen some shifting in the modern feminist movement. Thanks to talks like Emma Watsons' at a HeForShe campaign event and really incredible mommy bloggers, we're making some progress. I guess I just wish it would move faster.

My daughter can be strong even in a pink leotard.

You see, this topic is especially important to me not just for myself, but for my daughters too. Despite whatever feminism turns into in the future, I want my daughters to know they can be whatever they want. If Eleanor wants to be an astronaut, or a stay at home mom, or ballerina, or a marketing professional my reaction will be the same: "You go girl. You be what you want to be.You do what you were meant to do. "

Because shouldn't that really be the message of feminism? We are capable of doing just about anything, so let's stand up for the right to do what we want--no matter what it is.

Memory: Eleanor walking

I found this old blog post that I never posted for some reason. It was fun reading though, and I figured it would make a good memory post :)

Ellie walked tonight. Before this we've seen her take a couple steps here and there when she didn't think we noticed. But tonight was the real deal. Full on walkage! It almost made me cry for a second. But mostly laugh and smile.

She's getting so big which makes me SO EXCITED but sad at the same time. I just want her to stay my little baby! She is my true joy, I can tell you that much. We are so lucky to have her--she brightens up our lives like no one else could.

Mark and I were arguing the other day about Eleanor's upcoming birthday. I wanted to have a big party, he wanted it to just be us three. I think that sounds boring, he thinks it sounds... well, cheaper. We later came to a good compromise, but that night while we were arguing is when Ellie decided to really walk. She's taken a couple of steps before (really it's been basically us pushing her across the floor to each other), but this time it was like five whole steps! Out of nowhere! It calmed us both down immediately and we were SO excited--as only her parents could be. The videos are up on facebook now and the funny thing is that ever since then she hasn't really wanted to walk again. I think it's because she's not around other kids her size walking enough. I don't know.

The point is, she's such a blessing to have. If ever things get a little tense, it's easy to look at her cute, squinty, smile and realize whatever it is isn't that important. Granted, sometimes her whines can heighten the tension, but for the most part she's brought a new peace and love and joy in our home that is totally irreplaceable.

Here is another video I found of Ellie trying peas for the first time... unrelated to her walking, but hilarious!

Crying Toddlers; A Thank You to Parents

I just feel like I need to say publicly (well, you know, as public as this blog is...which isn't all that public) that I really appreciate seeing other kids cry.

Yeah, let me explain:

As a mom, I guess I can be a little hard on myself at times. All mothers are. And, as much as I try to resist--I always end up playing the comparison game. Everyone hates that game, but no one seems to have figured out a way to stop playing.

So, when my two-year old starts screaming and crying in public, one of my first thoughts is usually, "No--really, she's not a brat! She's just a two year old! Don't judge my mothering!!"

I know, I know....pathetic. But, it's the truth.

So, when I see other kids scream and cry in public and I watch the mom and/or dad's face plummet with humiliation and frustration, I have to give a little smile their way. First of all, because I find that little, understanding smile encouraging. But mostly, I smile as a thank you. Thank you for making me feel normal. Thank you for helping me know that by nature toddlers are just fussy human beings. Their emotions are a roller coaster we can't get off of. It's not just my daughter that has the occasional desire to reek havoc on the ears of everyone in the grocery store--there are other toddlers with the same thing goin' on. I know, because I've heard them. Who hasn't?

So again, THANK YOU all you parents out there with sweet kids that just don't know how to control all their emotions yet. Thank you for dealing with their public bouts of rage and inconsolable sorrow--even though I know it can feel hard, humiliating, and sometimes like you want to punch a hole in the wall. Thank you, because I have a little one just like yours, and it's nice to know we're all in the same boat--trying as best we can to raise good kids. THANK YOU for making me feel better about myself....maybe that's not such a great comfort to you in the midst of the battle of tears, but I thank you all the same!

Birth Story, Sophie Marie

Finally ready to write out my birth story for baby #2--Sophie Marie Ackerman. Now, let's start from the beginning:

As a background, my first baby--Eleanor--was born 24 hours after reaching the hospital, and 5 hours after the epidural.

So, this time around we hadn't gotten insurance yet when I found out I was pregnant. Because we didn't know what kind of insurance we were going to get, I looked at going to a midwife and doing a natural water birth. I went there a few times before we got our insurance all straightened out.

Well, here's the truth--during my first trimester and slightly into my second, I had crazy hormonal issues I think. It was, for some reason or another, harder. Easier physically, but harder emotionally. I was SO scared of having two kids, and even more scared of going all natural. I read TONS of stuff online about all natural births--I did pre-natal yoga at least three times a week and kept as active as I could with how exhausted I always was. Still, I was terrified. I remember finally deciding to get the epidural with Ellie and how marvelous things were after that. It made me nervous for how going all-natural would be with the second.

Well, after we got really great insurance I was still so scared and unsure of everything, I opted for a hospital birth. My sisters have all had natural births, and I know doulas and I've read a lot of the material for going all-natural. I guess that for me, knowing the hard after, and during, births of some "naturalists," I couldn't get over the fear.

So, my decision was to go in just like I had gone in with my first--no expectations of how things would go down. If things went quickly enough, I would go all natural, if not, I would get the epidural.

So, My due date came and went, despite my being almost completely effaced for a whole week prior. But, June 14 (three days after my due date) I started having contractions. It started early in the morning, but I had been having so many braxton hicks, I pretty much ignored them. Until I went to the bathroom and realized my mucus plug come out. It got me excited, but I know it still takes a while for some people after that happens, so I kept chill and went back to lay down. Pretty soon though, I started leaking fluid--my water broke. With Ellie, the nurses broke my water for me, so it was a new experience. It didn't come out all at once, but was basically a steady stream for twenty minutes. I called one of my sweet friends from back home in Kansas to ask for advice. She's a doula and has helped my sisters with their births.

She was great to talk to. If nothing else than to help my confidence level so I could feel like I really did know what was going on with my body. So, because of how long I was in the hospital last time, this time I was determined to wait to go in. I still called the Dr. on call at the clinic I was going to so they would know what was going on, but he told me I could wait until my contractions where about 3-4 minutes apart since we lived so close.

So, from about 10am to 4pm I sat on our coach in a complete trance. I slept in between contractions while Mark occupied Ellie upstairs. The hours went by pretty quickly as I just sat there, completely calm and relaxed. I felt totally confident, familiar with these contractions from two years ago. In fact, these were much better since Ellie's were only 1-2 minutes apart for hours.

At around 3pm my contractions were basically 4 minutes apart. I wanted to wait, though. I was convinced this baby was not coming until 2 or 3 in the morning. Not sure why, I guess I just figured with how long I was in labor with Ellie, that had to be the case.

Then at about 4pm the contractions starting getting more painful than I had ever felt--these were not so familiar. Still I wanted to wait for some reason. But Mark came down to check on me at about 4:30 and it took me about ten minutes to realize my contractions had jumped to 1-2 minutes apart and we had to go to the hospital right away.

I was scared because in my mind I still had a while to go, yet these contractions were SO painful. We got in the car and I started screaming.

Yeah, screaming.

You know those movies with women that go crazy during birth? Suddenly, that was me.

I. Was. Crazy.

We got to the hospital and I held it together right up until we got to the doors to the birthing center. At Riverton Hospital you have to pick up a phone and tell them you're there in order to get in. That's when I started screaming again.

Here's a tip: If you ever really want attention in a hospital, just start screaming and you'll get tons of it. I imagine this rule is generally true in all places, but especially in a hospital.

We barely got in the room before I shouted I wanted an epidural. I had no idea how far along I was, I just knew I wanted the pain to stop.

They called the anesthesiologist while they checked how far along I was. I was an eight in full transition.

For some reason I was in a little shock--I was already that far along?! Then I thought to myself--I could do this. I could actually go all natural.

And then I had a contraction. My next thought was, "What's the POINT?!"

When I tell people my birth story, they're always amazed at the nurses allowing me to even get an epidural when I was so far along. Mark and I both attribute it to the screaming. We're about 98% sure it was because of the screaming.

The anesthesiologist came in and got everything ready waaay faster than my last one when did. Right before he was ready to put the needle in, he told me I would have to stop screaming. In fact, he even said--word for word, "If you scream one more time while I'm putting this in, I'm leaving and you won't get the epidural."

That shut me preeeeetty good.

Right after the epidural. I look horrible, but I felt great

 Actually, I think that was the best thing. If someone had told me I needed to shut up earlier it might have helped. I feel like all the screaming had started out as a way to somehow deal with this unfamiliar pain, and had turned into something that was psyching me out--I was so worked up I felt like I couldn't calm myself down.

So, then the epidural kicked in super fast and the entire room turned from a hurried craze of people running around and giving orders in between screams, to a clam peaceful place--you could almost hear the collective sigh of relief.

Well, about ten minutes after the epidural they told me I was ready to push but wanted me to wait for the Doctor. This is another reason why I wanted the epidural--I know how nervous nurses get delivering babies and how they want to make you wait to push until the Dr. shows up. But I really have no idea how I would have felt if the Dr. was there when I got to the hospital, so I can't say that's the whole reason.

Anyway, I couldn't feel pretty much anything (I told the anesthesiologist in my frenzied state to give me everything he's got!), so I was okay with waiting. I looked at Mark--his relieved face now that I was calm--and I felt so excited. Like I hadn't felt all day! The whole day was spent in deep concentration, and then a short while of freaked out pain. But at that moment I felt like I could actually enjoy what was about to happen--our baby was finally coming! And I felt 100% confident everything was going to go great. Mark and I got to just sit with each other for 10-15 minutes, enjoying this crazy excitement together.

Then the Dr. came in and told me to push. Unlike with Ellie where my epidural had started to ware off a little before I started pushing, this one was so potent I had next to no idea when my contractions were hitting. So, the first push was off, obviously.

So, then they told me when to push and out came her head and half her body. I have never had ANY desire to see my babys' heads crown, but I was actually for some reason so far forward that I could see the whole thing. I have to say, it was actually pretty cool.

By the end of the second--though first legit--push, she was half-way out. We had told the Dr. the gender was a surprise so at that point he looked at her and announced, "I think it looks like a boy!"

But, sure enough, the second push came and she was out....and was obviously a she.

With Eleanor I had spent 30 minutes pushing before she came out. This little one--about 5-10.

She was handed to me right away and I couldn't believe it. We had another girl! Mark and I both cried, of course, and felt like the happiest people on earth all over again.

I tried to nurse right away, but half my body was so numb I couldn't get a good hold on her very well. Still, it didn't matter. She was perfect.

I could go on about the after birth, but that's not near as interesting, and this is already insanely long. Here's one of the best parts I will share: NO STITCHES! None. After I could finally feel everything again, I felt AWESOME. Except for the extra baby skin hanging down (sorry if this is TMI, I just assume guys don't read these kinds of posts), I felt completely back to normal! No big amounts of bleeding, no stitches, and basically no soreness.

And there you have it--the birth story. Now, I have to have a small section in here devoted to my ranting. If you get offended easily, you probably shouldn't read on, because I think I come off kind of mean when I do this--which is why I've tried to cut down on my facebook rants lately, but sometimes I just can't help it.

RANT: I know a lot of people who are dedicated to the "all-natural" birthing methods. For the most part, these people drive me crazy. So many "naturalists" believe that because they go un-medicated, they're births are more beautiful than those who do the opposite. Well, here's what I have to say to that: CHILDBIRTH is beautiful you morons (yeah, I'm not even trying to hold back). And you can't ever tell me that my births were less beautiful than yours--because come on! They were plenty beautiful, alright?!
And a couple other myths I'd like to crush while I'm at it--"epidurals lead to not being able to push which leads to taring and/or other bad things." almost true, but WRONG. Okay, it's true, I couldn't feel when to push, I'll give you that one. But in NO WAY did that cause me any problems. No tares, no complications--and both kids were out SUPER quick. Then there's, "Epidurals stop the labor process and then Doctors make you get c-sections." Sometimes true, but mostly WRONG. If you get an epidural too soon when you're not far enough along in labor, this can happen. But don't get it too soon and chances are, you'll have a nice, peaceful birth with no other medical interventions. IN FACT, studies I've read say there is actually no evidence that people who get epidurals are more likely to get a c-section. It's just naturalist propaganda (Note: the word "propaganda" was meant mostly as a joke....don't take this too seriously).

I could go on and on dispelling all the stupid things I've heard about epidurals. But, I will say this. Going all-natural can be a great thing to do. I do understand some of the fears with getting medicated, but I also understand how MANY epidurals happen every year in the US and how few of them lead to anything bad. I mean, is it possible that I would have had the same peaceful results if I had prepared for a natural birth and gone through with it? Maybe, but maybe NOT. Could I have had no stitches at all this time around and an amazing recovery if I had gone all natural? Maybe, but maybe NOT (that's another myth--that recovery is always better when you go all natural. I've known plenty of women who've gone all natural whose recovery wasn't even close to as good as mine).

If you want to go all natural--good for you. In fact, to all those who have gone all natural, I have to say this: I APPLAUD YOU!!! I could not handle that pain. That is pretty awesome what you've done. But if you ever try to tell me that's the reason you're birth experience was better than mine, I might have to explode all kinds of crazy on you.

Why I won't teach my children to be different

It's okay to be the same--look how cute we are!

Okay, before you start freaking out, I won't teach my children to just "be the same" as everyone else either. At least never on purpose.But lately I think society has taken an interesting turn from valuing sameness to valuing contrast. Nowadays it's all about what you know that other people don't; what you wear that other people don't; what you say that you think other people won't; what you do that you think other people don't. It's like when we were all kids and we couldn't choose the same favorite color as any of our siblings--heaven forbid Clare and I both love the color pink! How will anyone ever see me as more than just Clare's sister if we BOTH like pink?!?! [Note: true story. That's why purple was officially my favorite color growing up. But you can't tell me I'm the only kid that went through that! Please tell me I'm not the only kid who went through that....].

My point is, it's all getting a little ridiculous. I had written various examples to describe just how ridiculous I think it is, but that made this post really long so I cut them out (you're welcome).

I definitely suffered from "gotta be different" syndrome through all my teenage years--basically right up until I turned 20 (I say suffered, but my symptoms were never that severe--at least not comparatively). For instance, I never wore make-up basically until I got married. I'll admit part of it was that after going so long without wearing make-up, the attention I got when I did wear it was embarrassing to me. But, I also liked that it made me different from my peers. It made me feel like I was better than other girls--like I was less vain (ironically enough). I felt like me not wearing make-up was cool because I was saying "no" to a popular trend.

We got engaged in China. Try to beat that hipster!

You see, that's just one of the problems with the different movement--putting yourself above your peers in one way or another. When I talked to others about not wearing make-up, it made me feel like all those other girls didn't even KNOW. The reason that being different feels so good and can be almost addicting, is because it feeds our vanity and pride into big enough traits to block out other big traits like self-doubt and insecurity. Unfortunately, the easiest way to deal with our own feelings of low self-esteem is to make ourselves feel superior to another person--either by putting them down, or raising ourselves above them, or both. Trying too hard to be different, does both. It puts a person up on a pedestal while making others look like idiots.

Now, this is not to say I think being different is bad--that is NOT my point! If someone is different without needing to show it off, they obviously don't fall into the same pitfalls as those trying so hard. It's the intense need to feel different that I think can be so damaging to people. So many people seem to be rejecting the idea of conformity (which I agree definitely has it's own problems) in order to value being different, but in fact both ideals have the SAME main problem: both require basing personality off of everyone BUT the person in question. In other words, whether I'm caught up in trying to fit in to what everyone else is doing, or whether I'm caught up in trying to not be like everyone else, all I'm really doing is giving the power of personal choice to everyone but myself.

I don't want to teach my kids to conform to whatever their peers are doing. But I also don't want to teach them to base their self-worth off of how much they stand out from the crowd. I just want to teach my kids to be themselves--no matter what anyone else is doing or being. Let me reiterate for emphasis:

Be yourself--even if that means being different and even if that means being the same.

Because that is the only way we can truly learn to love ourselves and love all those around us. And what is happiness but the giving and receiving of love? I want my children to live the happiest lives ever known to the human race! And that means teaching them to find out who they are by looking within, not without.

Loving this girl for everything she is

It's something we all struggle with--trying to find the balance of loving ourselves without falling into a false sense of superiority. But it can be done. I still sometimes fall into the trap of wanting to be different just to make myself fell better. But I have to remind myself that whether I'm different or the same doesn't matter--as long as I'm me.

So, let's not be afraid to like the color pink, too! And what's more, let's not even let it bother us. In the end, individuals are individuals--there will always be differences enough for real loved ones to treasure. Maybe we should take time to treasure the similarities, too.

Mark Memory--First day together in Shanghai

WHAT? Blogging twice in the same week!??!?!? MADNESS!!!

I've decided that for myself I should record more memories. Not necessarily the ones going on right now, but memories I have of the past that maybe I won't remember as well later? Even if I do remember, it'll just be something fun to write down. So here's my memory of the day:

Shanghai, China, June 2011

Mark took this picture after I fell asleep talking over Skype
(it became a common occurrence)

I knew I wanted to marry Mark Ackerman. Well, actually I'd known that for a really long time, but I finally knew that he wanted to marry me too! After skyping every day, always saying I love you, Mark being adamant that we should finally "officially" be in a relationship the past April, talks of when we would get married, and finally his flying from Hawaii to China for an internship (but, you know, really for me) made me pretty sure this was gonna happen.

I had been in Weihai, China since February teaching English. It was I think early in May when Mark mentioned when we was going to be in Shanghai and I learned that I would have a long weekend and some of my other fellow teachers were already planning a trip down to that same city. Next thing I knew the first weekend in June came around and I was flying down to Shanghai to see this dreamy guy again. I wouldn't be able to see him until the next morning, though, so I was going a little crazy. We were able to set up a time and meeting place, though, and I was pretty sure I could get their via the subway (or whatever you call it).

That morning I said "seeya suckas!" (probably without the suckas part) to to my fellow teachers and headed off to the main station in Shanghai--the clock tower right outside the station, to be exact. You must know, I had no phone, and almost no clue how to speak Chinese. I mean, I knew a little bit, but very little.

Our first meal together after six months apart

I got to the station just fine on my own, but where was the clock tower? After walking up the stairs and out the station and back and forth the length of the station I could find no clock tower anywhere. Did I get off at the right station? Yes, I was sure of it. But where was the clock tower? Maybe it was across a street somewhere? But there was nothing but buildings after a road that led to some apartment complexes. I walked back and forth, back and forth, but nothing. I would reach one end of the station and it would be a road and then a staircase leading down to the trains. I would walk to the other end and find a McDonald's the rails where the trains crossed. I wanted to ask someone but not only did I feel stupid, I didn't know how. I finally asked someone by pointing to my dictionary at the word, "clock" but all they did was point at the station! Maybe they thought I meant the train times which were posted on the front? I was starting to get more frustrated after getting the same response from two more people.

Rain. It started to rain. Not really hard, but enough to get my clothes a little damp. I wanted to cry. I almost did. I walked along that station for maybe an hour--going inside the Mcdonald's to get away from the rain occasionally.

At the aquarium in Shanghai 

After an hour it finally hit me. The people weren't pointing at the station itself, they were pointing to the OTHER side! But, how do I get to the other side? I couldn't read any signs when I got off the train, but judging by the pictures one staircase just led to more trains and the other led out here. The road I had found on one end didn't look like it went to the other side, but I figured that was my only option. At this point I worried if Mark was still waiting for me at all.

I walked down the road and luckily found it led to another road that seemed like it would lead to the other side of the station. Except, the station was sort of down this hill from the road and there was a cement wall and a small gate lining that hill. I was so excited I could actually see the clock tower down the hill, but there was no sidewalk or anything leading to it. There was only this road. Luckily I saw other people walking along this road, cars dodging them as they drove past. So, I followed. Then came the point where the hill had lowered and all that was in my way of getting to that tower was a small wall and that gate. By myself I would have at least really hesitated before climbing over, but after seeing other people do the same, my courage perked up. I had to first pull myself up onto the base of the gate/top of the cement wall which was probably as tall as my waist. Then I had to swing my legs over this gate. It was a small ordeal, but I had made it!!! How crazy that this was the only way to get to the other side! Who created this?! (Later I learned that in fact that other staircase which I thought led to more trains led to the other side...yep).

Well, it didn't matter because I had finally reached the clock tower. But no Mark. It had been about an hour and a half since the time we decided to meet, so maybe he went home? But I couldn't believe that. Was this the right clock tower? What a stupid question, of course it was. But what could I do now? The rain had cleared up on my walk down that road and climb over the gate, but it started again. I circled the tower over and over until the rain started getting harder. I spotted a McDonald's (those things are seriously EVERYwhere there) and ran inside. I heard McDonald's usually have wifi there, but I didn't have a computer or anything to check my e-mail. I stayed in there for a while until finally the rain had turned back to a slight mist.

Shanghai--pretty excited to finally be together!

I walked back across the street to the clock tower and determined to wait there all day if I had to. Then, there was this guy with an umbrella, squatting down, staring at where people come out of the station. He wore flip-flops, a white t-shirt and brown jeans. I was so excited to see him I wanted to yell!

I started off walking, then jogging over to him. The excitement filled in my chest as I saw his eyes light up after turning to see me. Right as he started to come my way the inevitable happened. I slipped and fell on my butt.

The pain in my rear and the puddles seeping through my clothes to my skin had no effect on my spirits though--this was going to be one of my favorite days, dry butt or no.

Mark of course smiled, but also looked concerned as he helped me up and asked if I was okay. I laughed and of course said I was.

What followed was a great day of sight-seeing and finally being together after six months apart. It turns out the moment I had finally gotten to the clock tower is when Mark had gone to buy an umbrella or try to e-mail me from somewhere. He had waited for me for two hours and would have waited all day.

One day later and we were engaged, but that's a different memory for another time. That first day--wandering in the rain and falling on my butt--started out miserably but ended up being one of my favorite memories.

Confessions of a Young Mom

This is my confession:

Sometimes I let myself wonder if I'm "cut-out" to be a mom. Mostly for the following reasons:

1. Boredom. I stay at home with my now eleven-month old baby all day. I don't live close enough to any family members and haven't made good enough friends to feel like I can go "hang-out" all day with people. So, almost every day it's just me and Ellie. It's fun to play with her for a little while, but am I expected to play with her for eight hours while my husband is away at work? Straight? The internet says that if I let her watch too much TV with me that I'm a bad mom because it could cause problems for her later--ADHD or something. Also I can only watch so much TV during the day. I try to read, but of course at eleven months, whatever I'm 'playing' with is way cooler than anything Eleanor is playing with, so then it's really just a constant game of tug-of-war. We both get pretty sick of that game after a while. Then of course I try to write or do other things on the computer, but then she can't stand that I'm ignoring her and once again playing with something cooler than what she has. So, she cries at my feet instead. This is something else I can only take for so long. Eleanor could do it all day though. So, what can I do? Sit there. Just sit there. All day. Watching her play and occasionally interacting--sneaking little moments that I can to read, work-out, or write--those little moments when she's preoccupied for a few minutes or right before she's noticed I'm not paying attention to her anymore. I'm bored SO much of the time. I'm thinking this will change as she gets older, but as of right now I have to wonder, do 'good' moms do nothing but play with their baby all day?

2. Not being able to get out. This kind of goes along with the boredom thing. But, the thing with Ellie is that she really is such a good baby when she's entertained, and entertaining her is usually not that hard to do. She's super social and is great when we do get to go and do other things with other people/kids. I would love to do some kind of volunteer work in the community or get involved with things. But then I think, who would even let me volunteer with a baby tag-a-long? Even if I knew she'd be fine just being in a new place, I couldn't go and try to do anything. Then, of course, even if I did find something to get involved in that Eleanor could come along with, I don't have a car. I guess that has nothing to do with whether or not I'm a good mom, but I'll admit sometimes I think about some of the things I could do if I didn't have to stay at home with her all day.

3. I am so much more impatient than I ever remembering being pre-baby. Eleanor is like her mom--utterly depressed without attention. She's also like her dad--bored with things way faster than should be possible. So, the result is a lot of "fake" crying/whining. All the moaning and screaming without the tears. I get so sick of it some days I just want to scream. My worst confession is that I actually have a few times. I'm pretty much completely positive it's impossible for this child to play by herself for more than three minutes at a time. The worst is when I try to do dishes while she's awake--she just pulls on my legs and "cries" the entire time. It doesn't matter how many toys I put on the floor next to me. Who knew someone would hate me doing dishes more than I do! I am, thus, often very frustrated and frazzled throughout the day as I try to do things around the apartment or for myself.

I guess if that's it I can't be doing too terrible, right? Hmmm.

At any rate, I feel like the only things I hear on blogs and from moms is how wonderful being a mom is and how perfect their children are (I'm aware this is untrue and simply my self-pity fooling with my brain). Granted the moms who have a few more kids will usually rant about how crazy keeping track of more than one is--and how their life is constantly going. Those, I'm sure, will be comforting to hear/read in the coming years, but for now I feel like, AM I THE ONLY ONE?!??! I hope not. That would make me feel preeettty stupid.

To end on a much more positive note, these are some of the things that make it all worth it:

1. It's so easy to make this baby girl laugh it's ridiculous. Ridiculously awesome, that is. She laughs ALL the time and all day, so long as anyone gives her any attention. Sometimes all I have to do is make a silly face and she's laughing and jumping and clapping. Too cute. She LOVES to play--way more than she loves exploring. I'd say she's pretty typical compared to her age group when it comes to loving knew things, but there's a reason she rarely leaves the room I'm in--and if she does it's not for very long. She could miss an opportunity to play and laugh with me!! Sometimes I think even her laughing is sounds forced--even if her parents aren't that funny, she'll give us a courtesy laugh just so we'll keep playing. It's really incredibly cute. She's definitely the FUNNEST baby I've ever played with and it does make our days SO fun!

2. Talk about SOCIAL! If you haven't guessed from everything I've already said, Ella LOVES people. Almost all people, though for a while she was really scared of guys (I think she's almost over that). It makes it SO easy to go anywhere because I know people will love her because she will love them and everyone will love each other and it will be a great time! Pretty much every Sunday at church is like this--she smiles at anyone sitting next to us and immediately has a friend: See ya later when I'm hungry, mom and dad, I've got people to meet!! It makes church, parties, hang-outs, reunions, ANY social event even more fun having Eleanor there! She probably cries less outside the house with other people than she does inside the house with just me. That thought could make me sad, but I'm grateful to have such a social baby so I never have to dread leaving the house!

3. Ella Mei is so sweet and absolutely the EASIEST baby to console. Meaning if there ever is anything wrong, all I have to do is hold her for a couple minutes and/or distract her with a toy or a mirror (her reflection is the surest way to make her smile) and it's like nothing ever happened. Aside from when she feels she needs attention, she RARELY cries and it's so easy to stop if she does! She might bump her head or fall, but play with her right after and she'll probably not even notice. It's so uncommon for me to ever feel like I don't know why she's crying--I count myself beyond lucky for that!

4. With how much Eleanor loves everyone ELSE, it's so special to see all the signs that tell just how much she loves me! Before I became a mom I would've found that statement ridiculous--she's my daughter of course she loves me! But, after having Ellie, those signs that she loves me as her mom are always treasured moments that what I do is worth it and wonderful. I feel fulfilled--complete--not just that everything I do matters, but that it matters to me. I feel this way when she cries when she sees me leave the house; when I come home while Mark is trying to put her to sleep, but upon seeing me she gets so excited it takes an extra twenty minutes; when she's hurt and all she wants is me; when I go into her room in the morning and her face goes from crying to complete excitement when she sees me; the moments when all she wants to do is be held by me. Those little things are what add up, making my life the best that it's ever been.

I guess in the end I always have doubts of whether I'm a complete disaster of a mom--and I'm not fishing for any approbation, but I suppose most moms probably have similar feelings at some point or another. And. I'm far from hopeless--I've got plenty more kids to raise before turning in my test scores! ;)

Life is just Scootin' By

Why isn't my baby crawling yet? Why doesn't she have any teeth? Is she a pickier eater than other babies? Am I feeding her enough baby food? Am I feeding her too much baby food? Is it too early to start on finger foods? Should I have started forever ago? Other babies are practically walking at her age, is she not normal? Or are those babies not normal? Why doesn't she always sleep normally? AM I EVEN A GOOD MOM?!?!?!?

Occasionally I get a little crazy like that. But, for the most part I try really hard to put mommy-anxieties away and realize that of course all babies develop in different ways and at different rates and Ellie is probably the most normal baby ever! And, am not a bad mom--am actually pretty freakin' good at it! ;) Ok, well, I try anyway--and that's all anyone can say.

So, Eleanor hasn't started crawling and has HATE, HATE, HATED her stomach since the first time she was put on it. So, I've had pretty mixed emotions. On the one hand I feel like if she would just start crawling she would be okay entertaining herself at home for longer periods of time when I have to do things like make dinner or, you know, blog. I love playing with her all day, but let's be real, this little one has got to learn how to do some self-entertaining every once and a while. Though, she's actually not that bad sometimes.

ANYWAY, so on the other hand I think it's way convenient not having to re-arrange our small and still not completely unpacked apartment so she doesn't crawl into everything. I mean, self-entertaining is great......until she starts sucking the ink out of our pens.

Well, despite all of my mixed emotions, Ellie, for the first time ever, moved forward BY HERSELF on her stomach TODAY. Yeah, it was "epic," as they say. And I'm way excited!! It kind of takes her a while to get anywhere still so I don't really have to worry...plus she doesn't seem to particularly like it--it's a lot of work. The point is: now I know--this girl means business.

I know, I know... that means the title to this post was probably a little too punny to be funny.... haha.... ok.

Here's the poorly taken video of one of her FIRST stomach scoots ever. Enjoy... though probably not as much as I do.

Declarations of Little Importance.... but cute pictures too

I'm pretty bad at posting pictures on facebook... mostly I'm lazy, but, I have been taking pictures! Of Eleanor that is. I took a lot of pictures while Mark and I were apart for a month so he could see her growing the little that she did. He was in CA and I was in Utah with my sisters while he worked and saved enough money for us to get an apartment. And now, we're finally here! Well, been here for a few weeks. Anyway, LOVE the apartment, LOVE California, LOVE LOVE LOVE finally being with the hubster!!!!! I'll take pictures of the place later as I get further into decorating it. I think for one of the first times in my life I'm going to try to BE CRAFTY!  I know, crazy, right? I was the girl in my church youth programs who always got the pity looks during our crafty-nights. No one ever said anything, but they didn't have to, because I knew the glob of glue and string and paper in front of me was all my doing. And I never minded, I pretty much have tried to stay far away from things that involve glue and paint and colorful paper and string. But, I think that I'm going to give it a try. This means you may or may not see pictures of my achievements--simply because I don't know if there will be any, or if there will, I'm not sure how long it will take. But, I am determined to try!!

I'm determined to do a lot of things here. Mostly to stay busy. Since Eleanor was born I have always been with someone(s) all day--first Mark while he was looking for a job and then with my sisters right after he found one. But, now it's just me and Ellie all day and I'm having to make up things to do. Luckily Eleanor is the chillest baby ever so I can plan great plans! Like getting back to my home-schooled roots and studying countries, philosophy and cultures. Also I'm planning on learning to sew, decorate, cook, take decent-looking pictures for once, maybe even (if I'm really that bored) make cute cards--all of the domestic things I've avoided like the plague for most of my life. It should be interesting. And, of course, will all be done slowly one at a time as Ella Mei lets me.
In the mean time, here are some pictures of Ellie from last month.

I just realized Ellie is wearing her pajamas in almost all these pictures.... You might be interested to know that I've come out of that lazier point of my life and now get Ellie dressed in cute outfits every day. One step at a time, right!

Being Mom

I've been thinking about writing this post for a while (it's supposed to be the mushy one I've previously alluded to). Yet, I still don't know exactly what I'm going to write. I think I'll start and let myself ramble to wherever my fingers take me. So, here it goes, be prepared for something most likely long and most definitely unedited.

I always knew being a mom was important, but that doesn't mean I always wanted to be. I never DIDN'T want to be a mom, but I was more of a "I want to work for an NGO when I grow up" type of a girl (no, really, that's what I told people when I was, like, 13), not the "I want to be a mom when I grow up" type of a girl. I had plans. But, as I got older I slid back and forth on the importance of starting my own family. Finally, right before I turned 20 I decided having a family would be the most fulfilling thing for me to do with my life--not the only thing I would do with my life, mind you, but the most fulfilling. 

Well, I got the feeling like I should start praying for it. It felt weird so I didn't do it very often, but I did do it. About one or two months later Mark and I started dating. A year later from then we were married. A year later from then we had a one month old baby girl. Yeah, be careful what you pray for. 

But really, I couldn't be more happy. I still have plans, dream, goals---things I'm going to do with my life. Little Ellie will just have to come along for the ride.

The thing is, even though I always knew motherhood was an important role, I didn't know it would feel like it does sometimes. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm in a constant state of lovey-blessed-wonderment [Note: I like the way I described that]......[Note: I haven't done "Note:" in a long time], BUT, there are those moments. 

Sometimes, I'm in complete shock--I think, "THERE IS NO WAY I'M A MOM!!! NO WAY, MAN, NOOOOOOOO WAY!" But, then there are times where it makes so much sense, the thought of me not being a mom makes me think, "PHHHHSSSS, what ELSE would I being doing with my life? Probably not existing." And then there are really special times where I look at this little thing I helped create and think, "How did I get so blessed? How is it possible that I can love someone so much who is so small and so new to me? How can I ever live my life to deserve her?"


The thing is, being a mom of a newborn is stressful. She's been sick this past week and waking up constantly at night just screaming. I've really had it easy with Ellie being such a mellow baby, but for a few nights I got a glimpse into the lives of moms with colic-y babies who won't stop crying even when comforted. Unfortunately, I can't say I felt much of that lovey-blessed feeling during that time [Note: Yeah, I know, I'm trying to be better about that. I've been working on empathy for how she is feeling, instead of getting frustrated].

Totally my new favorite picture of us

Being a new mom (or, from what I gather, any kind of mom) is also time consuming. Yes, I have plans I plan on still accomplishing, but don't ask me how far I've gotten in the whole "achieving" thing. Actually, don't even ask me about the plans at all. Almost every day I look forward to nap times when I can shower, brush my teeth, and BLOG of course [Note: sarcasm].....[Note: maybe because I haven't used the "Note:" for a while, I'm over-using it. Sorry.].

Yet, with all of that, she is still my number one and those special mom feelings still exist--I just don't always take the time to notice them.

I can't wait to see her get older, but at the same time the thought of her ever not being my almost six-month old baby makes me want to cry. Is it just me, or do I sound like an emotional wreck?

Well, this has taken some interesting turns. I think I'll end on this:

One of the most special feelings I have that sometimes brings tears to my eyes is that Eleanor was meant for me, and I for her. Sometimes I get this strong feeling that that she and I were best friends before we came to earth, and that while I was chosen to be her mom, we were both meant to learn from each other. It's an overwhelming feeling that I am to take care of this precious light to the world--that I am responsible for teaching, nurturing, and filling this amazing spirit with so much love. But, I can also be taught by her. Maybe that is one of the real objectives of motherhood and family rearing--to aspire together to be what we otherwise couldn't without each other. One thing's for sure: Eleanor is one special little girl and I am beyond blessed to know her, let alone be her mom.

Shout Outs

There are a lot of people who deserve shout-outs for the help I received before, during, and immediately following giving birth to Eleanor. Here are just some of them.

Suzie Bell:

Ellie loves Suzie too! (less than two weeks old)

Suzie is one of the most motivational people I know. Since we moved away from Hawaii I have had almost zero motivation for much of anything. I blame it on the fact that I no longer have constant contact with this girl. Besides lifting my spirits by seeing her smiley face all the time, Suzie helped me with preparing for labor by teaching me the Tupler technique. I'm pretty sure that's the reason that pushing only took me about a half hour when this was my first baby. My stomach doesn't look too bad either, though I stopped doing some of the exercises (no motivation without Suzie, remember?) so I know it could be looking a TON better if I were still doing them. Or if I had even done them for the first month. Anyway, Suzie was an amazing trainer.

What's more is that she was an incredible friend. Not only is she motivational, but she's just all-around an uplifting person to be around--something I really needed especially in my last trimester.

I MISS YOU SUZIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Castle Medical Center

Castle Medical Center in Kailua, HI was the best birthing center ever! Ok, granted it's not like I've had any previous experiences with birthing centers, or even hospitals where they deliver babies. BUT, I couldn't believe how nice and accommodating everyone and everything was. They had everything I could want for the labor, but also all the nurses were so awesome--especially right after giving birth.

They let me hold the baby as long as I wanted but were there to help every first steps of the way. Everything was done at my pace and the way I wanted. They were all just so sweet and considerate. Plus there was plenty of room for my mom and husband to stay there the whole time. Typically only one guest is allowed to stay overnight, but when they saw both my mom and hubs sleeping on the couch and floor mat provided they let it go.

I highly recommend Castle birthing center to ANYone getting ready to have their own baby.

Mom

Five days before Eleanor was born

Wow, how do women have babies without their moms there? More specifically, without MY mom there??? Even Mark right after the whole thing mentioned we wouldn't know what to do without her there. She stayed up the whole night pushing on my back, encouraging me, and supporting me in all my decisions. She was particularly amazing in the week following. She stayed up with the baby so I could get sleep and helped driving me to pediatrician appointments.

Ellie had major problems gaining wait her first week. She just wouldn't latch on no matter what we did it seemed. I tried the breast shield, saw a lactation consultant (who, btw was awesome and deserves a shout-out, but I just don't have the time to write one for everyone or I'll never get this thing posted), tried all different holds, but nothing worked. She was born at 8lb 5oz and dropped to 7lb in four days. Newborns typically lose some weight their first week, but not that much. The doctors were really worried so from her first check-up on Monday until that Friday we drove 45min every day to get her weighed in. It was one of the most stressful and draining experiences of my life. I had to feed Eleanor every two hours--morning and night. But, because we knew the problem was latching this meant I would have her on me for 45minutes and then I would pump so she could have another 2-3oz every feeding. It was crazy, but my mom was there with me the whole time. It was such a huge relief! I have no idea what I would have done without her helping me get an hour of sleep here and there between feedings and pumping!

Mark, My Handsome Hubster

Less than two weeks after birth

Wow, well, first of all, Mark is amazing. I don't think I can adequately express the kind of help and support he has been for/to me since Eleanor came to us. Eleanor was born during Mark's last few weeks of school and I know I was probably not an easy person to live with as the stress and lack of sleep made me an emotional wreck. But, he's always been supportive and helpful and loving the whole way. During the labor he was up when I was and walking and breathing with me. Afterwards he would also wake up to take care of the baby while I pumped (he and my mom switched off to give each other some sleep). After my mom left his duties doubled as I asked even more of him. But, Mark has never once complained and has done much more than I know a typical new father might do. This is because feedings were SO LONG and stressful for the first month and a half. But, he's always taken it with nothing but love for me and Ella.

Now I just pump which is still time-consuming but not as much as pumping AND breast-feeding and is also a lot less stressful. Still Mark helps all the time and is up every night with me to heat up bottles and sometimes rock (or in Ellie's case, walk) the baby back to sleep.

About a month old

He is so loving towards Eleanor--it's so fun seeing him as a daddy. He sings to her, plays with her, makes her laugh, calms her when she cries, and shows so much love to our beautiful girl. He loves being a dad and I think it suites him well. One thing's for sure, I don't know what I'd do without him.


Well, those are all the shout-outs for now, though again I know there are so many more. The thing is, it takes me forever to write these posts because they are so long so eventually I just don't finish them and then, you know, a year goes by. So, this is just where I'm going to end it for now. I am a very blessed girl with a beautiful family of my own that is so full of love. My life couldn't be better.