PreK to College ~ What Happened?!

Completely caught off guard, Abigail runs to me after Daddy brings her home from from vising her surrogate Grandmother and hands me a bright pink flier saying... 

"Mommy, please read this important special paper", folding her hands in front of her in the prim-n-proper little way that she does. 

It is an invite.... to her PreSchool Graduation Program.

Reading each line aloud, smiling yet crying more with each word... All I can think is,

How is this happening?! lol

She JUST STARTED PreK!

I was JUST sobbing uncontrollably in the hall as I watched her class get further and further away from me (after managing to hold it together until she couldn't see me anymore, of course) on her first day of school, clutching my wrist where we had drawn a smiley, peace sign and heart on ourselves so we could think of each other every time we looked at it on that momentous day.

It may have been nearly a year ago... but the days, hours, minutes.. where have they gone?? 

Somehow even in the midst of grasping on to each day as if it were the last, excitedly helping her with her once-a-week homework, watching her carefully (and eclectically) get her school clothes ready every night,  helping her choose something for 'Show & Tell' for every Thursday morning and eagerly asking her how her day went everyday when I picked her up.....

Somehow it all passed us right by, and now our baby girl who we brought home at just 4.5 pounds is graduating PreK and will be starting Kindergarten. :(

{....crying again....} 

All of these tiny milestones keep creeping up on us, and no matter what they are, they grasp my heart and instantly remind me that these precious times are just that; Precious.

I cry now for the woman in me that will one day be as I sit on the bleachers on the day of her High School Graduation crying at the years that passed us by... wishing I was only crying at her PreK Graduation Day again, rather than getting her packed for college. 

I cry now for the woman in her that she will one day be... Not because I don't want her to grow up, but because she must grow up. 

She must face this world as a Woman, Adult & Individual. 

And if we as parents {in general} are sure to remember exactly WHY we are living, working, breathing...

If we are sure to allow ourselves to FEEL and CRY in these times so that we are reminded to slow down and ENJOY our little ones during these precious years that we'll never get back ...

It is then that we can be sure to give them the quality kind of CARE, LOVE and ATTENTION that they need to one day face this world confidently, intentionally, thoughtfully and successfully.

These 5 years have gone by in a flash, and it is our promise to you, Abber-dabbers, that we'll be here for you at your every achievement/milestone, with smiles on our faces and with tears swelling in our eyes. 

Mommy & Daddy loves you baby... And we're so very proud of you. 

You're sweet, caring, creative, smart, loving, intuitive, polite and you love to learn. 

What more could we ever expect of you. <3

What the Sun Does to Her

Oddly enough, right in the middle of Spring... the Sun came out!

It does not go unnoticed up here in Washington, especially with Abigail and, I'm sure, the rest of the Pacific NW children.

She rises quickly on a weekend morning, the sun only just barely peaking through the crack in her window.  The clouds are still huge and heavy in some places, and the wind remains, but even the back and forth between the Sun and the grey is enough to make her Aura instantly vibrant and energized.

All morning she has consistently asked me in many polite, Abigail-like ways if I would go watch her out front while she played...

WHY is the front yard so much better than the back yard?? LOL I'll never know. The backyard is bigger!

"Mommy...  would you so kindly, if you mind, you could watch me as your beautiful self.. um... in the front yard while I run and jump and play?"

<bats eyes, smiles and tilts head>

She's... irresistible, really.

She is amazing, smart, bright, kind, polite, stubborn, FREE, beautiful, and strong... She is SUCH my daughter.

It is the middle of the day now and she dances and twirls in the front yard sporting her multi-colored striped tights, her pink jumpsuit (as she calls it), a long sleeved shirt underneath, her shiny black dress shoes with her favorite lip gloss on.

She picks some of our Lavender and holds it out in her hand...

"Close your eyes and smell that, Mom."... as she lovingly smiles. 

She's just so beautiful to me, inside and out.

We ran giggling as I chased her around the yard for at least 5 minutes. She makes me feel like a kid again.

Children are the most amazing, magical beings we are so blessed to have and to raise, love and cherish.

I love all of our children, even if they drive me nuts half the time.

Life would not be the same without them.

Happy Sunday  :) 

Life As I LOVE It

You know those mornings when the alarm sounds and your eyelids feel like elephants are sitting on them, and when you try to open them, it feels like it is more like 3:00am instead of 6:30am? 

Mondays (usually).... 

It was something I thought I was getting rid of when I stopped punching an actual clock at a corporation 40 hours a week.  But having to get up before 8:00am  after getting up a few times with an infant to get Abigail up, ready, fed and off to school.... oh, and ON TIME... 

That just turned out to be my morning workout sometimes! Especially on Monday's. 

But it's good to know I'm not alone! Taking Abigail to school on Monday's consistently has the same feel to it.  We take our kids into the school, trying to look as graceful as possible while walking them into the hallway as we all could have probably benefited from arriving just a couple of minutes earlier. 

We give kisses, clean their faces a little one last time, tell them to have a good day and send them off to sit in their line and wait for their teacher.  

Abigail likes it when I wait for her teacher to come so that I am there to waive to her as she walks by Carlin and I in the hallway on the way to her classroom.  A few other Moms do the same, which is nice because we inevitably started talking to one another and now it's something that I kind of look forward to! 

A teacher will join in the conversation most of the time and it is kind of nice, especially for us stay-at-home-moms, because every woman can find something to relate to in one another.

But ANYWAYS..... Then it hit me. 

My dearest friend, Ann, always says to me when she comes by... 

<shakes her head and smiles> 

"THIS is your life" 

... as I watch reruns of FRIENDS and munch on the SMORES (Or REESES; depends what day she comes over) I made from my super secret stash of munchies that I hide from the kids.   (which I'm SURE we're AALL guilty of at one point or another!)   ;) 

Not to mention when my first post on Facebook in a couple days was about Carlin's massive poopy that required me to just hang his little butt under the faucet to effectively clean it! 

When she saw me she said, 

"You're posting about poop. THIS is your life."

That's when I thought, standing there in Abi's school in my ankle tight yoga pants, bright blue Converse (shoes that make your feet look HUGE), half combed hair and wearing my hoodie...... 

"This IS my life. THIS IS MY LIFE!!!" 

Working full time worked for me for a while, but my heart (and my hubby's) felt the need for a change, so we went for it! 

And here I am, talking and sharing stories of morning or weekend events with other Mommies, and coming home to watch FRIENDS (and ELLEN!! I admit, I just LOVE her!), nurse our baby, attempt to manage a clean-ish house, do projects and, most of all, BLOG! :) 

This has given me a chance to grow & awaken to my abilities, expand my creative side and enjoy myself, our little family. 


I truly value how I spend my time more than I ever have. 


Paul, my husband, said it best....


I love that you're so content, baby.  

Yeah, "Content" .... That's it. :) 


Content, and SO humbly happy and thankful. 

Little Miss Fashionista

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While the rest of us were getting ready for a day trip to Olympia, WA to have lunch with some friends we made in Occupy who traveled from WA, DC, Abigail ran around the house in her “fashionable” and well thought out outfit loudly expressing her excitement to try a new Indian restaurant.

Daddy had just finished getting ready and sat down while he waited on the rest of us to get ready (and by that, I mean Mommy. But I have to get everything else ready for the day ahead!). He asked Abi to come to him so he could brush her hair when he asked her (being jokingly serious … ? Yes, that works)…

“Abigail, are you sure that black dress coat is “fashionable” (a term our daughter has re-defined) with your outfit? I’m sure the rainbow sweater with the hood would go much better”, he says with a smirk to be funny, but was actually making an honest observation.  

Abigail tends to match some pretty random articles of clothing together by pairing cowgirl boots,  tutu’s and small dress coats with pants and halter tops.

Free expression is encouraged in our household. It keeps  things interesting to say the least!

“That’s OK, you don’t have to listen to me. I’m just the stylist”, he continued as she stood with hands on her hips looking at him like… “REALLY DAD??”

It was then when I chimed in and said, “Yeah babe, maybe go get your black boots to match your dress coat.”

She then lovingly walked over to me, put her hand on my shoulder and said, 

“Mommy, please stay out of this.”

LOL OH that child…

Our daughter is a little fashion diva and has been since she was big enough to walk and talk. It may have been the princess movies she watched, or the ballerina movies and her obsession of becoming a rock star that inspired her “fashionista” personality, but it certainly wasn't from me . Sure I dress well when I need to and may have my own sense of layed-back-hippie-style but it is not in my nature to stand in front of the mirror and prep for very long. Brush the hair, throw on some facial lotion, minimal make-up and some lip gloss and I’m done!

Abigail will change several times in one day, and when she knows something is coming up that she will soon be attending, she will pick her outfit out ahead of time with every piece carefully thought out.

Her murmurs can be heard from her room as she giggles and says things like… “This will go PERFECT with this tutu.” (EVERYTHING should be accompanied by a tutu, according to Abigail) “Oh yes.. this will be fashionable. Daddy will approve.”

Daddy is her personal stylist. This is just something that developed organically over the years. To be specific, he is also the Chef and (main) Gardener. :)  I am the glue. I keep everyone and everything in order (and I use that word lightly), delegating tasks to keep the house in some sort of decent condition, while also being sure we have fun along the way. 

But it is Daddy who, when we go to our favorite thrift store full of very lightly used/like-new clothing for children to replenish Abigail’s wardrobe (Shout out to Tiny Hiney's in Vancouver, WA!), is the one who picks out all of the clothes which are usually as funky and unique as our Abber-dabbers.

It will be interesting to see if this pans out over the years as she gets older.

<3 MHM

My Hippie Thoughts on Attachment Parenting

It has been a couple of weeks now since I have learned what "style" of parenting I apparently practice... and after having some discussion, reading halfway into a book I borrowed and my own reflection on the topic as our family operates naturally in this way, I cannot hold back any longer and am finally ready to have a "bloggy" discussion on Attachment Parenting. 


Recently I came across a lovely fellow Hippie Momma's blog, (The Happy Hippie Homemaker) while searching for blogs to follow and the first two words that popped off the screen to me were Attachment Parenting, or AP for short.

Had no idea what it was. Never heard of it. But it sounded intriguing and I've been reading about it ever since!

Giving something a label is usually overrated to me and puts things into categories that can separate people, cultures, etc. And I have to admit that the first thought that came to mind after reading about it a little was.... "Isn't AP just Parenting, and shouldn't the alternative to Parenting be "Detachment Parenting"? But there's still just something about knowing that the way we naturally parent actually has a name and definition that gives me the warm and fuzzies. 

AP is more of a philosophy and less of a "style".  It is a lifestyle by instinct to those of us who usually practice baby wearing, breastfeeding, co-sleeping or bed sharing, choose natural foods and read labels, shop local, labor naturally and are all around Hippie Mommas (and daddies) at heart (none of that is criteria of course). 

We are are sensitive to our babies needs. We believe in their cries and respond to their cues, staying flexible and avoid schedules that are impractical for a baby. 

For example, since I began writing this post I have stopped to play, nurse, change a diaper, play some more, rock and even took a walk because the sun came out for a moment (Sure it was raining on us a little bit while we walked, but we take what we can get up here in Washington). 

We feed our babies when they give the signs of wanting to eat and we allow them to sleep when they feel like dozing off. When one parents in this way, parent and baby live in harmony within each other day to day, taking away many stresses or worries that they would have otherwise if they'd chosen to follow a rigid schedule. 

Here are the 8 basic principles of AP: 

1. Preparation for Pregnancy, Birth and Parenting
2. Feed with Love and Respect
3. Respond with Sensitivity
4. Use Nurturing Touch
5. Ensure Safe Sleep, Physically and Emotionally
6. Provide Consistent Loving Care
7. Practice Positive Discipline
8. Strive for Balance in Personal and Family Life

Studies have found that attachment-parented children grow up into more secure adults who handle the stresses of life, relationships and pressures of life better than children who were not attachment-parented. The studies have also shown that AP children usually have healthier relationships with both friends, acquaintances and lovers than the non-AP children.  

With AP, the baby can trust that their caregiver (the parent, guardian and even baby sitters) will comfort them when they need it, eliminating doubts or fears of the new world around them far before they ever have time to form. The AP child has a great respect for their parents, a bond that is based on trust and love, and generally aim to please their parents, being less likely to wanting to risk disappointing them. 

AP parents take any opportunity to turn a situation into a learning experience.  This holds true even with discipline.  

AP children are disciplined with what is called Positive Discipline (PD), focusing on helping the child learn and grow and on helping them handle their current situation. The opposite of this would be to respond to a situation in an angry (or violent) fashion, punishing them without teaching them anything in the process. 

Practicing PD means to have reasonable expectations of the child according to their age and to discipline the child in a loving, caring, encouraging and firm manner. 

There seems to be a confusion in modern society that when a baby cries, they are trying to manipulate their caregiver, and trying to somehow control their surroundings.

Before the age of 1, babies do not cognitively have such an ability to give them any sort of thought process, and it is psychologically impossible to spoil them. That is a fact!  When a baby cries, they simple need comfort and care. It is their primal way of requesting care in order for them to survive. 

All of their "wants" are actually also their vital needs during the early stages of life, and they cannot even comprehend they are a separate being from their mothers for months after birth. Because of that... baby wearing, bed sharing and breast feeding all contribute to their security, which gives way to a more secure and independent toddler, adolescent and adult. 

So often you hear of "baby training" where the parent is trying to teach their newborn to be more independent and sleep through the night right after birth, when really... a baby needs the opposite of that. 

The reason a baby wakes up every 2 to 2.5 hours at night is all a part of that primal request of "PLEASE TAKE CARE OF ME! PLEASE TEND TO ME! PLEASE HELP ME!". 

Babies need to eat every few hours for several months after birth and should NOT go more than 4 hours between feedings, as recommended by midwives, doctors, nurses, studies, etc. Baby is simply reminding you of this when he wakes in the middle of the night. 

Babies should also not sleep with a wet diaper all night long. Baby is asking for a clean, dry one when he wakes you up at night. 

Obviously AP evolves over the years as the child gets older when bed sharing ends, breastfeeding is in the past and the parents are still in tuned with their child; all of their needs, body language, etc. 

To Attachment Parent is to be bonded with your child closer than you could ever imagine. Read about it... Learn more about it....

I recommend a book ....  The Attachment Parenting Book: A Commonsense Guide to Understanding and Nurturing Your Baby.  It has validated so much for me and I wasn't ever really looking for any validation. 


Disclaimer: This post is simply that of my own "Hippie Thoughts", is reflective of how I personally feel and is in no way meant to be demeaning those who do not parent in this way.  I just feel that maybe if we, as parents, simply surrender to parenthood and NOT parent at a distance, letting go of rigid schedules, ignoring any outside pressure of what we "should" be doing for our baby/child and just follow our own natural instincts, enjoying our children and nurturing them as they need us to, when they need us to... We could raise more secure adults who have something to contribute to society. After all, our children are our future. 


Sure, Attachment Parenting is a "label", but I will accept it.  It is a good set of guidelines, so to speak, and the very topic could awaken new parents who may be unsure of their self to a truly beautiful world of parenting. 

<3 MHM

Happy Mothers, Breastfed Babies

Yesterday I visited our local La Leche League just to check it out and meet other mothers who are as passionate about breastfeeding as I am. 

As I was warmly welcomed by a mother who was unpacking the library of books for the group while her 2 year old ran circles in the room blabbing a song only he could understand, and as her 4 year old sat quietly at a table coloring, I found a chair, set down my things and asked if one has to be having difficulty with breastfeeding in order to attend. 

"Definitely not" was her response with a smile on her face as she lovingly tried to wrangle the crumbling graham crackers from her toddler's hands. 

Only 5 other women and myself attended, and as they entered the room one by one with their children, ranging from 6 months, 2 and probably 5 or 6, the room was soon filled with the sounds only a room full of toddlers could make. 

And so the meeting began. After introductions, the mother who greeted me lead discussion, with the day's particular topic being "Overcoming/Preventing Difficulties". 

I've always been a people watcher, and it is not to judge them in the least. To the contrary, it is really because I genuinely appreciate people... What they're made of as far as personality, their body language, their smiles, their eyes... Especially their eyes. So much can be seen within the eyes. They are truly the gateway to what is underneath. 

I was immediately comfortable in that group. Of course I expected to be, but you just never know.. well, the unknown, until you've put yourself out there and try it out. 

Discussion was organic and continued seamlessly among the battle cries of the toddlers among us. 

Mothers are such amazing beings. It is a beautiful truth that, once you're a mother, you're a mother to all children. It was interesting to notice how we all, at one point or another, had our eye on the children (whether they were our own or not) and occasionally would instinctually "mother" (Yes, it is a verb too!) the closest to us, all while being fully engaged in discussion that was filled with personal experiences, advice based on those experiences, and of course, affirmations. 

You can always count on affirmations among women. Well, most women. It is only among those who are comfortable within their own skin, do not pass judgement and are open and receptive to other women. It's unfortunate that some are not. They're missing out on connections that could help them grow in unfathomable ways. 

After discussion and toward the end of the meeting, all of us had breastfed at one point or another, with children being breastfed from the ages of 6 months to the age of 2. Seeing toddlers being breastfed reminded me of "Attachment Parenting". This is something I recently read about on a fellow hippie momma's blog, realizing that, although I probably will not breastfeed into toddlerhood (just a personal choice), I have always practiced Attachment Parenting! It's actually the most natural way to parent, essentially following instincts rather than "popular" or societal expectations. Who knew it had a label though! I'm not big on labels, but was pleased to learn more of this AP, and was more pleased to find a book in the LLL library. 

Before we changed diapers and headed out, the leader then mentioned the need for volunteers.... UH OH. LOL 

I mentioned to my husband a few weeks back that I planned on attending this group at some point, and he said in so many words, that as long as I don't end up planning rallies every weekend, then all should be fine. 

What he means is... I tend to gravitate toward organizing things. I'm good at it. I love it. And it is just natural for me. 

It was a good point for him to make, because one thing we're focusing on for right now is being home and NOT planning/leading anything, mainly because for an entire year and a half, we helped lead in several ways within and behind the scenes of the Occupy Movement, taking a lot of time and energy and passion. A lot. 

So, it was good to have his voice in the back of my head when my "OOoo!! Ooo!! I'll help with publicity, coordinating events, social media, and.. and..!!" urge came on at the first mention of them needing help to grow and get their name out there. 

Not being able to completely pass it up, and after brainstorming a bit on some ideas, I did offer my help but mentioned how my 'man hours' must remain low for the time being, receiving chuckles after I shared the reasons why. 

Groups like this are very important. This pregnancy and baby (as far as breastfeeding, mothering, etc) has been a piece of cake (knock on wood) with really no difficulties or feats to overcome. But I say that humbly. 

With my daughter, postpartum and breastfeeding hell were demons on my shoulders leaving me feeling like a failure, and with hardly a support system or confidence in myself at the time, it honestly scared me to reach out. I know for a fact that if someone would have reached out to me and gotten me to attend just 1 meeting, my life and world probably would have been a whole lot different from that point on. 

Women need women. Mothers need mothers. 

After what we go through for 9 months and then the birth of our child, no matter how we birth... We're all sisters in a sense. We must reach out to one another. 

La Leche League is full of angels who do just that. This is something I could get used to. :) 

I'm glad I went. Looking forward to where this takes me. (SLOWLY, of course.) teehee

<3 MHM

Just a Standard Nipple.... Go figure

Yesterday was an exciting day for us! Well... it was exciting for Mommy & Daddy at least.

***Carlin had his 1st bottle feeding!!! 

He is 6 weeks old and is beyond well established in breastfeeding, so I felt it was time to test the waters with bottle feeding.

This is great news for us as parents because, in order for us to be able to get a babysitter for our little man so that we can go be husband and wife for the first time in a LONG time, he needs to be able to eat from a bottle and not just my boobies.

First, we tried the Medela Calma Bottle, which is around $20.00 per bottle.

It is a new, state of the art bottle designed with breastfeeding in mind. The baby must suckle the nipple as baby would suckle the breast to first draw the breast milk down into the chambers of the nipple (which would equate to "stimulating" in breastfeeding, to bring the milk "down" to allow for full flow). And then only with the baby nursing just as he would from the breast, will the milk come out of the nipple and into baby's mouth.

It sounded so good.... We were SOLD!

However, it failed. Miserably.

First of all, the nipple is not even the shape of a nipple. It is more of a tube-like shape. That had me questioning it from the beginning, along with the fact that the nipple didn't seem to be soft enough to mimic the breast as they say it does, but again... we were sold on the sales pitch, loved that the bottle acted as a the breast and wanted to give it a shot.

This bottle may work for some babies, but Carlin was not having it. He gnawed on it for a while, before eventually just getting royally pissed.

So,  I grabbed the 4 oz. glass bottle we bought for less than $2.00 a piece at the Liquidators, which sports a standard, old fashioned nipple, by the way... And I then crawled on the floor up to Daddy who was feeding Carlin ...   (side note: when you desire to continue to breastfeed and want to introduce a bottle for the first time, it is best for someone else to feed your baby the bottle and for you to stay out of sight and quiet

... I then transferred the milk from Mr. Calma to Mr. Glass (I just named it that)..... AND.... WAH-LAH!

WE HAVE VICTORY!

I stood on the other side of the room silently bouncing up and down, celebrating the moment and, of course, jolted to the baby book to log the date and time of this milestone!!!

Being the hippies that we are, it is a big bonus for us that Carlin prefers drinking from a bottle made of glass so that we are certain to stay away from the chemicals found in plastic bottles. Yes, Medela bottles say BPA free, but still. Nothing beats a glass bottle!

IN CONCLUSION! This means (after I get the IUD in place in a few weeks) that Mommy & Daddy get to go on a date soon! :) Yay Carlin and YAY for us!

<3 MHM

Things Abigail Says (#1)

Oh my.... Our daughter.... Who is 5, but has always been this precocious....

< And, just so you know, you can't make stuff like this up. LOL We have been trained over the years to log every word, word for word, of something she says like this because these words must be remembered forever and ever. >


So, word for word, Abigail just said to me....

"Mom! You gotta come see this!! You just gotta come see the SIZE of this! I just pooped that HUGE poop, Mom, and it didn't even hurt! This is fantastic! And LOOK! See it poking out of the water?! <shakes head> WOW... I can't wait to show Daddy. He's going to be so proud of me! Don't flush the toilet, Mom. Dad needs to see this. <skips through the living room and goes outside>."

Me? What was I doing...?? Well... I was doing what any other perfectly....  Immature parent would do...

LAUGH MY ASS OFF!!! ... Then give her a hug, a bunch of kisses for being so damn cute, and then bolt for the computer to log these timeless, priceless "victories" of hers. 

:) We love you, sweetheart. 

Carlin's (long) Birth Story

Carlin Delano Nipper
7lb, 4oz, 20 1/4 inches long

Saturday, January 26th was like any other day to us. I was tired from barely sleeping due to my huge and growing belly and dealing with sporadic contractions that had lasted a ...full week by then. But as usual, wanted to continue to get ready for baby Carlin b/c even though he was not due until Feb 12th, we knew he could come any day. I started my morning nesting.. vacuuming, folding his clothes, putting up his pack n plays... when at 11am I had a contraction that was seemingly stronger than usual, but didn't think much of it. Then 11:10, another, then about 7 minutes later, another. When contractions are false, there's usually something you can do to make them stop. I walked, drank some water, laid on my side., took a shower.. they kept coming. I notified my midwife of them and also that we were heading out the door to attend my baby shower. She said "Of course you are!". LOL And said to contact her after the contractions progress. We went to the baby shower; at this point it is 1pm. 

As soon as we arrived, I realized that my contractions were now 5 minutes apart and lasting for about a minute long. Rule of thumb is for this to take place for an hour to determine if it is real labor, known as 5-1-1. ( 5 min long, lasting for a minute, for an hour long.) Contraction after contraction took place, each growing stronger, as I opened my gifts, laughed and visited in between them. This was determined by everyone present that it was definitely the most interesting baby shower any of us had been too. Some were worried, but most were laughing, and sometimes the room would go silent when a big one came and everyone would talk me through them. But by the end, an hour later, we were all but rolling on the floor giggling b/c I would have a painful contraction and then be so grateful for the gift I had just opened right afterward. It went from one extreme to the other repeatedly until we were all delirious. A little after 2pm I knew we needed to go. We rushed home, grabbed my bags that had been packed for a month, called the midwife, called my friends on call who wanted to be present and help with Abigail, and hit the road. 

By now they are 3-4 min apart, and Paul is letting me squeeze his hand while he uses the song times on a CD to time them for me, but with the volume down. (worked perfectly!). At one point I realized I had to pee (we're on our way to Vancouver) so he stopped at a gas station in Ridgefield and I proceeded to run inside, during a contraction, begging for the restroom. You should have seen that girl's face. haha I would have peed on her floor at that point. My bladder was seconds away from bursting so I 'm glad she answered fast even in her moment of shock. 

My friend Diana was ahead of us and met us at the hotel where we needed to pay for a room really quick so that she and Abigail would have somewhere to stay that night. We planned on booking at the Shilo Inn b/c they have full kitchens, etc. that make it seem a bit more "homey" and comfortable for Abigail. Paul didn't have his credit card so I waddled in with him with mine, full blown contractions happening in the lobby. The man was so kind, we got a discount for the room b/c I was in labor! (Shilo Inn off 134th exit in Vancouver - THANK YOU!). 

We finally made it to the hospital and into our room with the built-in birthing tub for my planned water birth that we had looked forward to this entire time. My midwife, Patty from Pacific Midwifery, was so wonderful. Very soft spoken, immediately dimmed the lights and to my relief, notified us that I was already 6cmm and had managed to labor mostly out of the hospital on my own. I cried tears of relief, and felt a little empowered to make it through the rest of the labor. 

As soon as I lowered into the tub... "Ahhhhhhhh...." parted my lips and a calming wave of energy washed over my body. I realized now, after making fun of what they called Water Birth in our child birth classes, "Auquadural".. it is really "aaaaaaaahquadural", b/c of the immediate feeling of Ahhh.. LOL Water.. what an amazingly healing element. Felt right at home. Each contraction came 3-4 min apart, but with Paul sitting in front of me holding my hands, Diana and my midwife sitting beside the tub, and with my sweet, precious daughter Abigail offering me calm, loving words of encouragement as she poured water over my back, washed my face with a rag, rub my cheeks with her hands.... my contractions seemed further apart than they were and were so much more tolerable. 

A couple hours went by, my friend Ann arrived with toys for Abigail and now my moans were getting deeper and longer. The world outside myself was a blur as I focused internally, completely submitting to the pain, staying relaxed and using my loving husband as my focal point.

My midwife asked if I wanted her to break my water. I thought for a moment... knowing that it could still be a while, and although everyone around me said I was handling the pain of labor more beautifully and gracefully than what they are used to witnessing... I honestly knew in my heart that I just wanted to hold my baby. I just wanted to be done and hold my little man. She broke my water at my request and my pain immediately went from about a 10 to a 15 in seconds flat. (they always ask what your pain is between a 1 and a 10). She then asked if I was pushing my baby out based on my guttural moans. 

When I said No, she checked and said I was at 9cmm, and at that time she wanted to check the baby's heartbeat just to make sure all is well since he is now deep into the birth canal. For several minutes, she and a nurse fight to find his little heartbeat, and b/c what they kept hearing was a beat between the 90's and 100, they couldn't tell if it was his heartbeat or mine that they found, so they asked that I briefly get out of the tub so they could determine baby's heartbeat. It is then I realized that there are oddly no breaks between contractions.

For some reason, the pain was ongoing and felt intolerable. I no longer felt in control or peaceful as I did only moments before. On the bed, after a few scary minutes of not finding his heartbeat, she found it... and was not happy. My back faced her as I faced the back of the bed, mumbling how I don't think I could do this... please get this baby out... the pain wasn't breaking... something felt wrong. At one point I was backing down off the bed and in my mind, just wanted to run out of the room and go home. LOL I didn't want to do it anymore. 

Everything had changed so quickly. My friends Ann and Diana, my midwife and the nurses, and my husband all shouted out words of encouragement. My midwife had me turn around; she looked me square in the eye and said "We need this baby out NOW. You have to get this baby out, Amanda, RIGHT NOW." My body was tired, my mind had become my enemy and I knew that I could not birth in the tub as I had long dreamed. I knew that my peaceful birthing experience where I was in full control, and my baby would gently float into my arms... was over. But I knew that his life was up to me. I had to save his life and get him into this world as quickly as possible. 

Patty told me that the reason my pain was constant and the contractions seemed never ending was b/c his little forehead was stuck on the lip of my cervix, preventing it from dilating to a full 10cmm, which is what it must be to push him out. At this point.. I must remind you.. I am doing this entire labor DRUG FREE. This is important to know, b/c from this moment forward, just when I thought I was in the most pain possible... these next several minutes would prove me wrong. 

After ordering the nurses to give me an emergency dose of something to help my cervix dilate and relax more (at which time I was stabbed in the thigh with a huge needle of medication that would do the trick) Patty had to pop the lip of my cervix off his head with her fingers... OMFG, OUCH. And I immediately started pushing. Patty kept instructing me.. Keep your legs wide open, Amanda. You have to push with your chin to your chest.. Keep pushing. With all that was taking place, focusing my mind on doing just one thing was a feat, but all 3 of the commands were a bit difficult to master, so a nurse held my leg, my husband held my chin to my chest and held my other leg while he coached me and encouraged me, telling me “it is almost over, our baby is almost here.” 

With this being such an urgent need to get this baby out, I felt a doctor cut an episiotomy, which was followed by me belting out a blood curdling scream, which I was later told could be heard from the end of the hall even with the door to my room shut. (Diana had taken Abigail out of the room long before this time.) It seemed like forever, and found myself looking down at my midwife Patty... She locked eyes with me for what felt like eternity, telling me when to push and that I needed to get this baby out NOW. I remember thinking this is the greatest woman ever... With her locking eyes with me, the rest of the room, which was now full of about 20 or so doctors due to my urgent need to deliver all of a sudden, had faded away. 

It was me, her, and my husband’s loving voice right in my ear as tears streamed down his face. I pushed and his head emerged. Paul cried harder saying "He's here baby, he's here... keep going.. he's here baby, keep going, you can do this baby." I pushed and pushed and half his body came out when my body said it was done and I stopped pushing, only to be revived by tons of voices in the room shouting “NO!! You're not done!! Keep pushing!!!” LOL In my mind I'm like, "really?!" I didn't know it but Carlin had his umbilical cord wrapped over his shoulder, under his arm, and down around his ankle, and Patty had a doctor in there who had placed a vacuum on his head as well as electrodes to better monitor him in his descent down the birth canal. I gave a final push and our baby boy was born at 6:18pm... 7lbs, 4oz and 20 1/4 inches long. 

He was immediately carried over to an incubator as Paul gave me a quick kiss and followed him to the other side of the room to be by his side. After all that pain... I found myself smiling and staring at our little man across the room, as well as my husband’s sweet face as we both cried and cried and cried. Carlin's little hand already clutching his daddy's finger in his very first minutes of life. 

It was brought to my attention that I had lost and was continuing to lose more than twice the blood one should lose during giving birth. Nurses pushed on my stomach and would manually contract my uterus for a good 30 minutes at this time b/c it was not doing it on its own, a doctor would stitch up my episiotomy, my husband was still across the room with our baby boy, Abigail and Diana was behind a curtain to where they could only see Carlin and Daddy and not mommy, and Ann, who immediately rushed to my side when daddy went to be with Carlin, was standing beside me squeezing my hand tightly as we both cried together, and she then informed me that I scared her to death and that I am never doing this again...LOL To which I agreed.

The reality of what I had just been through.. what I had just accomplished, with absolutely zero pain medication, was beginning to sink in, and would continue to do so for the rest of the night and following days. The feeling of.. 'I cannot believe I just did that. I cannot believe I just made it through that, and the feeling of 'there is nothing I cannot do'.. all of that was a lot to take in. I cried b/c it hurt. I cried b/c, despite the excruciating pain, I did it. I FREAKIN JUST DID THAT. I cried b/c I was immediately thankful, rather than sad, that... NO, I didn't get my water birth. But what I did get was more of an empowerment than I could have ever expected or imagined. More of an experience that would have so much more of an impact on me for the rest of my life than I could have ever planned for. 

Here I was in exhaustion and tears, looking around the room in complete awe of the moment, completely in the Present, completely thankful for all that I see.. All that had taken place. Everyone made the right decisions at the right time to guarantee that myself and my baby boy are safe and alive in the end, my two close friends were present and I knew that we could not have done this without them, my midwife was my strength as she remained calm and focused in the midst of urgency and emergency, and my husband.... my best friend.. my loving husband who was my center the entire time. 

I love you, Paul. You are my center, my core, my consistent sturdy ground in all that we do and all that we are in our lives. You are the man who I know, from your actions throughout our day to day, loves me as if I am you and you are me. And after this sweetheart... after this experience, and just when I thought I could not be more certain, I have never been more sure of all of this. There is nothing I cannot do with you by my side. Thank you. Thank you for loving me as you do. Thank you for fighting for us when we were at our most fragile state, not letting our love die, not letting anything come between us. Thank you for all that you are and for the Man that you are on the inside, that you probably never thought you could be before we met. 


Most of this experience was caught on video as I instructed Ann to film even the most graphic scenes, but.. after my blood curdling scream from the episiotomy, she was instructed to shut the camera off. Ann being Ann of course, turned it back on at one time, but was immediately told to turn it back off again... LOL Mainly due to liability on the hospitals part, I'm sure. So, baby Carlin’s birth was not caught on camera. But, that's ok. The memory will be forever vivid in our brains and hearts. After this, when all was calm, Paul then told me and anyone who could hear him that when I had Abigail, he thought I was the shit but he still thought he could take me. After witnessing this though... he said that he has nothing on me and would never claim he could take me. LOL I'm not afraid to say it.. I am the SHIT. That shit hurt!!!!!!! LOL :) And it was all in the past the moment I laid eyes on my newborn son. 

Giving life and being a mother... there is nothing greater in this world that a woman has the pleasure of being, and I will never take that for granted. And I wear that badge proudly. Our son was finally placed in my arms… I cried like a baby and, despite it all, I’d do it all over again if I had to. There is nothing.. NOTHING in this world, comparable to the feeling of holding your child, meeting your child, for the very first time. Mommy and Daddy loves you, Carlin, more than you will ever know until you one day have children of your own. Welcome to this world. We will try, have tried, and will continue to fight to make this world a better place for you. That is our promise. ♥

<3 MHM

Something About Sundays...

Sundays for us are the day of renewal. It is the day we fill the cupboards, do the laundry, clean the house...

There's something about Sunday's that seems to raise my serotonin. It is always so refreshing to wake up on a Sunday morning to my wonderful husband (who spoils me) making breakfast (he's our chef, that we won't share with the world), to the foot steps of our 5 year old up and down the hallway, in and out of her room as she dresses up in 3 different outfits and dances in front of her mirror singing her own made up versions of opera, and now to the grunts of our little man, Carlin. The teenager doesn't sleep in too late, but rarely awakes before the rest of the house.

Carlin seems to never leave the boobie. We don't offer him a pacifier or bottle, so I am both his binky and food supply, which makes it to where he pretty much is always attached. Even though gathering dirty clothes and tidying up my bedroom before going downstairs is a bit more difficult with him attached like a little parasite, it doesn't matter. These days are precious. This is exactly what I asked for when dreaming of having just one more child.

The morning always starts off busy. We eat breakfast, our teenager, Devlin, starts laundry, our toddler has already strung half her bedroom across the living room floor and couch, the hubbers (being the chef, he also does the grocery shopping) spends his time typing his grocery list on his phone and cleaning out the leftover food that will not be eaten, while Devlin divides what goes in the compost and what does not. But then he and hubby leave to "forage for food" and then there is a still in the house as my little girl, my infant and I are left on the couch, cuddling and ready for a movie.

Once the movie is over, the boys return, the cupboards get filled, I have my teenager back to help me straighten up the house, the clothes get washed, sorted and distributed, I usually vacuum.. although yesterday didn't allow for that part of the ritual as Carlin was exceptionally hungry, and after a full day of little break from nursing him, my energy tank was pretty low.

Although I do enjoy our weekly ritual on Sundays, it usually takes less than 24 hours for the house to look just as it did (minus all of the dirty laundry) before we began cleaning, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

One day these kids will be grown, and the lack of frilly tutus, tiaras, tiny toys, and all that Devlin leaves in his trails, as well as all that Carlin will soon leave in his path in addition to his cloth diaper landry... will, before we know it, be replaced with the memories of when our children were completely dependent on us.

Sure there is a sense of liberation to one day be able to only have to plan for ourselves and dreams of traveling far and wide via RV with little worry in the world are pleasing; and even to show up on our children's lawns and have them take care of us for a few days in the meantime, has crossed our minds. But these are the golden days. The days of innocence, first experiences, development of mind, body and soul before we send these soon to be grown individuals into the world, hoping we did all we could to be sure they can contribute and help advance a society.

So, I'll continue to enjoy my Sundays waking up to our little opera star, and cleaning up tiaras, tutus and tiny toys.

<3 MHM