365 Day Photographic Challenge

It's been awhile since I wrote on this blog-- I stopped when the school year started last August!

Well, now school is over and I have a little more time. I'd like to take pictures more often this year. So, at the encouragement of Rebekah at Honey and Cheese, I am participating in my first 365 Day Photographic Challenge.

Here are the pictures I've taken since June 1. (Yes, there are more than 8. I had trouble deciding which ones to eliminate). I have a not-quite-2-year-old daughter, so most pictures are going to be of her. Sorry, can't help it.

1/365 -- "Just Before Church" -- Aleigha collapse into mommy's and daddy's bedding and "read" a coloring book.

Same day...Aleigha reading her fav book while getting (another!) breathing treatment.

2/365 -- "Playing Outside" -- Aleigha enjoys collecting sticks and dandelions outside.

Gotta pick all the dandelions!

3/365 -- "Ready for a Walk" -- Gotta have all the essential things for walking!

Same day...Aleigha is being mommy's kitchen helper for the first time.

And, we took a lot of pictures this day, apparently. Aleigha is learning how to use the potty.

Chillin' on the potty.

...and lovin' it! 

4/365-- "Baby Houdini" -- Those are car keys, but Aleigha understand the basic essentials to un-lock the door. Yikes!

5/365 -- "Picnic with Daddy" -- We were preparing for a trip, and the table was covered with stuff, so Daddy and baby had a picnic on the floor.

6/365 -- "At a Conference" -- baby did her part...by falling asleep.

7/365-- "Playing at the conference" -- Oh, trust me on this one: Aleigha did so much more than sleep at the conference. She handled being confined to her stroller for most of the weekend well, but to give her an outlet for her energy, I took her to the nursing mothers room to run around.

So, where's 8/365? It exists...I promise. I'm not going to share it, but I'll describe it.

Aleigha is sitting on the potty, looking slightly concerned at her "success" (as in, she pooped in the potty!) So, I'm not going to share it because 1) it might embarrass her one day and 2) that's gross. 

So, that's our big news! We're making some potty progress. I had my doubts last week after a little (failed) pep talk: 

Me, to Aleigha, immediately after she pooped in her diaper: "Aleigha, we poo in the potty. Don't poop in your diaper. Poo goes in the potty." 

Aleigha stared at me for a few seconds. Then, she looked at the potty. "Poo"? 

"Yes, poo goes in the potty." 

She happened to be clutching her favorite stuffed Winnie-the-Pooh toy at the time, so she threw that into the potty. I caught myself saying, "No, Aleigha. Pooh doesn't go in the potty, er, I mean, Pooh bear doesn't....poo poo does. Poo? Poop? Oh great...." 

By then, the moment was lost. Pooh was in the potty. Poop was in the diaper. And I don't know what A.A. Milne was even thinking-- Winnie-the-Pooh bear? Pooh? Seriously? Any other mothers out there ever find Pooh in the toilet? Toddlers can't hear the silent "h" ya'll!

PS: I meant to post this yesterday, so now I have to take a 9/365 and post again today. Ah! 

Peach Piece (a Talous Treasures short film)

Ah, Saturday. The start of a three-day weekend. Today I learned how to upload a video to YouTube. It took me a long time, but it was worth it because I captured Aleigha on video yesterday...and I think it's worth sharing.

I usually don't share videos on my blog because 1) I didn't know how and 2) probably only family will truly be interested in watching her do something menial like eating or crawling (and maybe few close friends...maybe).

But, if you like like to watch Disney Pixar's short films, I think you'll want to see this. 

Watch at least until 1:43 or so. After that the music runs out 'cuz YouTube won't let me use two songs. (If my brother Thomas is watching this...can you please help me figure out how to loop the music?)



And for the dedicated folk who want to watch even more...

One of those afternoons

When we first moved into our apartment e.v.e.r.y window screen had a huge hole in it. We called the property manager yesterday and asked if the owner would be able to fix them, and they said yes. So,  a handyman came by to fix our window screens. And we are thrilled, because it's cool outside now and we want to open our windows without letting all the six-legged critters inside.

A happy-ending, but it was still one of those afternoons. The handyman scared Aleigha by his mere existence, and she wouldn't calm down for an hour. I was a bit tense too, since I dislike letting strangers come inside. When she started crying, I felt a bit like crying too. Jason thinks she picked up on my tension, so she kept crying and trembling despite my efforts to reassure her.

After two hours he left...what a very long two hours. What kept me going was the thought of my surprise date with my husband. In the one hour and fifteen minutes I had until my friend came to baby-sit, I was so mentally drained that I had to think about each step I took.

What do I do next? Do that which needs to be done.

Which is...? Focus on one room at a time. One room...kitchen. Dishes. Wipe counter. Mop floors.

What next...? Vacuum. Clean the floor so Aleigha won't find anything to eat and choke.

And then....? Get dressed. Cuz I look like I've been cleaning dead bugs off the window sill. Cuz I have been doing just that. That and hugging a scared and crying Aleigha.

But you know what I remember most vividly from the day? The walk we took this morning. The bright blue sky we saw out our open window this afternoon. And the lovely date Jason and I had this evening. And now....zzzzzz........

What black beans taught me about coveting

In one of my first posts I wrote about the purpose of this blog-- seeing the Gospel in ordinary moments.

And since then, I've pretty much blogged about the "big stuff"-- first foods, first crawl, first watermelon eating contest...nothing about life's ordinary moments...

...which is strange since the sum of my life is mostly ordinary moments.

Like the day Aleigha was eating black beans in her high chair. One-by-one she picked each one up and artfully shoved it into her mouth. I turned my back to do something else, perhaps dice some fruit for her, and when I came back, I discovered...yes, that's right: she's helping herself to all of the beans.

Oh, perhaps she ran out of beans and didn't want to bother asking? Nope. She still had beans on her tray.

Beans in the bowl are far more appealing than beans on the tray....right? We laugh at her because it's funny to watch a baby want what she doesn't have, especially when she's only wanting black beans. But for an older child or adult, and especially for a follower of Christ, coveting is not-so-funny. 

"But sexual immorality and all impurity or covetousness must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints. Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving. For you may be sure of this, that everyone who is sexually immoral or impure, or who is covetous (that is, an idolater), has no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God." (Eph. 5:3-5)

When we covet our minds become consumed with our desires...and little else.

John Piper defines coveting like this: "'Covetousness'" means desiring something other than God in the wrong way.

Misdirected desire-- where the thing I want and my enjoyment of the thing is more important to me than God. Coveting is idolatry. ("...who is covetous (that is, an idolater)." (See also Colossians 3:5.)

Oh, how I've been a covetous idolater. Where my mind is so consumed with what I want that my relationship with God and others is affected. Where I relish the relationships and things I have to the point of being prideful. Where I enjoy the things I have so much that I cannot see the needs of others. Where I want things so much I am drawn away from my duties and responsibilities.

Coveting, I am finding, is so much more than simply wanting something that you don't have. Coveting is misdirected love.

So, was Aleigha really coveting? Well, I dunno. Maybe she was just exploring the world within her reach?? But I think her actions speak truth of human nature: what is just out of reach looks delicious. {smile}

At the Fair: Yet Another First

In Aleigha’s first year of life we’ve experienced lots of “firsts” this year. Remember her First Foods? Yesterday marked another “first” – first time going to the county fair!

Jason took a few hours off of work and we went to the Loudoun County Fair. Going to the fair with a child is oh-so-much more fun than going by ourselves.

After purchasing some lemonade, we pushed the stroller into the animal barn where the goats, sheep, rabbits, and chickens were caged. The goats greeted Aleigha with a loud “baaaaaaaaa.” She jumped and started to cry. We moved on to Jason’s favorite part: the chickens! She stared at the chickens…and then “waaaaaaah.” The clucking was too much for her. We moved to see more chickens, quieter chickens, but then she saw a fly buzzing around and became upset all over again (Aleigha’s been afraid of flies ever since a fly that landed on her highchair moved when she tried to eat it).

We left the barn to the next attraction. The Watermelon Eating Contest! I really wanted to watch this one. I’d never see a food-eating contest in person (that I can remember). I liked that the contest involved eating fruit and not pies or hot dogs.

We heard the announcer’s voice call for more participants: “We still have openings for ages 6 and under.” Wait—6 and under? Oh yes, Aleigha is certainly under 6 (indeed, she’s not even a one-year-old!) And, Aleigha really likes watermelon. She’s a champion watermelon eater at home and eats just as much as I eat (maybe more?) Every morning for us is a watermelon-eating marathon.

I knew she wouldn’t win, but she could certainly hold her own.  And did I mention she really likes watermelon? I wrote her name on the sign-up sheet.

While we waited for her name to be called, I took her shirt off and snapped a red bib around her neck. She sat on her blanket, holding a plastic spoon and waited expectantly for food. 

After her name was called, we picked up her chunk of watermelon and lined up with the contestants.

Every contestant must have been at least four-years-old. They stood in a line, clutching their watermelon chunks. Aleigha sat at the end of the row, clutching her spoon. 

Ready, set, GO!

I took the spoon from Aleigha and used it to scoop small, bit-sized chunks of melon for her. She ate them, one-by-one, while the crowd cheered and cheered.

An eight-year-old brother of the contestant next to us cheered his sister on. “Come on Ava! Big bites! Act like cookie monster!” She nibbled away as fast as she was able to, and in between bites called back to him, slightly annoyed “I’m trying to win a watermelon contest here!”

As Aleigha chewed she looked around thoughtfully, almost as though she couldn’t understand why there would be so much fuss about eating….breakfast? I didn’t want Aleigha to choke, so I gave her small, manageable pieces. About halfway through the contest though, I think she realized that she was supposed to be eating faster. When I didn’t give her the next piece fast enough, she grabbed a fistful of watermelon herself. I supplied the next bite quickly and prepared to cut up with chunk had in my hand. Aleigha grabbed it and shoved it into her mouth before I could take it back. After gulping it down, she took another, then another. She was eating almost as fast as the other contestants!

When the contest ended, I noticed she had consumed more watermelon than poor little Ava.  She continued to eat the melon even after the contest was over—who can pass up free watermelon?

We're goin' places!

Our little baby is starting to be mobile! And active! She is not officially "crawling" yet, but she can slither and scoot....kinda like a wounded lizard. It's adorable.

Her new trick is to get stuck on mommy's desk chair. Sometimes it's fun...

"I like being stuck. I get more mommy attention! I like smiling for the camera!"

...and sometimes it's not so fun.

"Mommy, put the camera away. My arm is stuuuck. *sniff* "

Chick-fil-A (A.K.A “Pregnant Cow”) Part 2

Today is Cow Appreciation Day!

Last year, I wrote about our Chick-fil-A experience-- at 7 months pregnant I dressed like a cow and walked into the restaurant with Jason on Cow Appreciation day... (read the story for background).

I promised myself that next year (2013) I would dress me baby like a little cow calf this year...and here she is!



I was not really sure we'd make it out this year. I planned to assemble our costumes while she took her morning nap, but for some reason she screamed for about 20 minutes before she slept. She doesn't usually do this, so I wasn't sure what was wrong. I decided to let her cry it out  (and she did), but at 10:30 am or so I still hadn't showered and couldn't find some supplies I thought I had. *deep breathe*

But, I made do with what I found and I think we all came out looking nice...well, er, like cows.
 

The things we do for free food. *shakes head*

Aleigha ate chicken tenders from her first kids meal (this is the first time she has eaten chicken tenders...or a kid's meal). She enjoyed her food! (I did let her eat a few fries too...it's a special day).

She might be looking at the enormous cow...

Capturing the Growth of a Baby

I'm packing away a lot of little baby things...bouncer, clothing, spit up cloths, receiving blankets, swing...all things we don't use anymore. 'Tis true-- babies do grow quickly (even my little peanut!)

When my baby girl was first born, I counted her age in hours: 2 hours old....7 hours....23 hours...
After she was one day old, I counted her age in days: 5 days old....9 days old....14 days old...
After about two weeks, I kept track of her age by week: 4 weeks old...10 weeks old...16 weeks old....
When she was about 4 months, I counted the months: 4 months....7 months...8 months

And she is now 8 months old!

We've celebrated a lot of "firsts": first plane/train/rental car ride, first time going to the zoo, first time going to the park, first time rolling over and sitting up, first taste of solids, first Mother's day... I am not very good at keeping track of all of the "firsts." I might just have to think of this entire year as her "first" and be done (and hey, it is her first year).

What I need is perspective because each day seems so exciting and new. Each moment with a new baby seems scrapbook-worthy and notable. In the digital age where mothers share and show-off creative and unique memory-keeping ways, it's easy to feel like a "bad" mom. Am I depriving my daughter of a beautiful babyhood by not documenting every moment? Despite my feeling that I am....no! We are living life and enjoying her babyhood...and it's alright that I didn't photograph every moment or write down the exact day she smiled, rolled over, or could sit unassisted. I don't keep track of her age in hours anymore...and I don't need to. 

But, I do wish I had thought of taking consistent pictures of her in specific poses to get a visual for her growth. Sometimes this just happened...like in the following pictures:

First month...

...just before 8 months

So a word of wisdom to soon-to-be new moms: think of any "stages of growth" pictures you want to take before you give birth...and be consistent. You'll be thankful that you did [smile].

Aleigha's First Foods

At seven-and-a-half months, Aleigha's been eating solid foods for a while now. She really likes her food. Despite her petite size, she can pack away a lot of food. She now eats fruits (applesauce, pear sauce, bananas, peaches, prunes, avocado, and a few blueberries) and steamed vegetables (green beans, sweet peas, carrots, sweet potatoes, corn, butternut squash, pumpkin). I've also started to feed her Greek yogurt and ...eggs! (Learn about giving babies eggs here!)

We started feeding her solid food when she was four-and-a-half months old. After researching the "right" first foods to feed a baby,  I settled on brown rice cereal mixed with formula. My hope was that a little cereal would settle her stomach and calm her acid reflux a bit. I think (but can't be sure) it worked. In any case, I nursed her throughout the day and offered her one solid "meal" every day around 5:30 pm each day.

Here's her response to solids:

Get it away from me! Aleigha's first bit of solids

On the second attempt, she actually took a bite.

hmmm...maybe this isn't so bad after all?

Even though her cereal was watery, she needed some help swallowing each bite.

She made hilarious faces after each spoonful...including this one...

What is this stuff?

..and this one

Not sure I like it...

Disgusting! (I laughed and laughed at those eyebrows! She has her daddy's eyebrow expressions).

And the funniest face of them all....



































Now, she really likes her solid foods! Her favorite food is applesauce....

What was your experience feeding your baby solids for the first time?

When I grow up...I'm going to marry Tigger

When I was about 4 years-old, I told my mommy that I was married to Tigger (the bouncy striped tiger from Winnie-the-Pooh). My reason? He was just like my daddy.

Huh?

You see, my dad was a policeman who "worked in the fields" (patrolling the streets). Hmmm...what are fields? Oh yes! Where things grow! An orange grove. Tigger likes to bounce among the orange trees. He does what daddy does-- I want to marry someone like daddy. I want to marry Tigger! (So my 4 year-old mind reasoned).

A decade-and-a-half later my mom tells Jason (while we were courting) that I used to pretend to be married to a storybook animal as a child-- Tigger.


So, when Jason proposed to me, he unbuttoned his overshirt to reveal an light orange shirt with a picture of Tigger on it. He spoke the words on his shirt: "Can I be your Tigger?" (And, I said "yes"!)

Jason & I the day he proposed....see the Tigger shirt?

So, I shouldn't be surprised that Aleigha really like playing with...a Tigger rattle!

Aleigha at a few days shy of 7 months

Trust

Now that you’ve heard the birth story. I’d like to share my experience afterward. Actually, this post serves as an explanation of why I haven’t posted much since her birth. {smile}

Even though I've heard about the "sleepless" nights with a newborn, I was shocked at the depth of sleep deprivation I experienced after Aleigha's birth.

I thought I was prepared since I hardly slept in college. If I could earn a bachelor’s on five hours of sleep a night for weeks at a time, surely I could handle waking up a few times a night to nurse a baby? I didn’t consider, however, the recovery process after delivery and the difficulties of nursing.

Recovering after a 50-hour labor takes time. My sleepless college nights never included catching up on sleep after a two all-nighters in a row.  Unlike in college, after giving birth, I couldn’t choose to sleep for 12 hours straight to pay my sleep debt. As a nursing mommy, I needed to be available to my baby daughter around the clock.

I’m convinced that the combination of a hard delivery and the need to nurse a baby every 2 hours immediately after giving birth is a product of the Fall. God, in His Goodness, would never create the combination of a hard labor and an always-hungry baby, right? Or would He? While hard labor is, I believe, part of the curse, God, in His Goodness, redeems the hardships in our lives for His glory.

Our first night home from the hospital was far from restful. My little baby cried so much, waking up every 45 minutes around the clock. My mother stayed with us for the first week, and was gracious to get up with me every time Aleigha nursed. As a new mommy, I was scared and worried that I didn’t know how to care for my baby.

At 3 am, Aleigha woke-up crying. I could hear her perfectly; she slept in a little co-sleeper next to our bed. I rolled out of bed, scooped her up, and stumbled into our living room. Aleigha refused to eat, however. After a few sucks, she fell asleep. I tried in vain to wake her up, knowing that if I put her back in bed, she would only wake up and want to nurse again.

I was hitting my wall. Why did she refuse to eat for longer than 5 minutes? Why would she refuse to sleep for longer than 45 minutes? Would this really last all day and all night?

My mom finally took Aleigha from me and said, “I’ll get her to sleep and come an wake you when she needs to eat again.” Those two hours were the best sleep I’d had in days.

For the next two-and-half months, I was completely, utterly, exhausted. I felt like I was going crazy.  A small part of me was bitter that I was the one primarily responsible for waking up with her. I was her source of food and comfort. Couldn’t I have a break? I quickly learned that once I became a mother, I’d always be a mother....

In the middle of night, I awoke, yet again to her cries. I was not only tired and frustrated, but also fearful and anxious. Would I ever get enough rest? Tiredness is manageable, but utter exhaustion...? 

Then, somewhere in the chaos of sleep deprivation, I realized that I needed to trust: trust that God knew my pain and would sustain me. He gave us Aleigha, and He would provide the means with which to care for her. If the only sleep I could get was an interrupted 4 hours of sleep, He knew, and would care for us. 

I can’t say that I’ve always maintained a good attitude in the middle of the night, but from that moment, my attitude changed. On those nights when I see every hour of the night, I’m too tired to remember much, but I can say one word: Trust.  

Aleigha's birth story (Part 3 of 3)

Dear Readers,

Thank you for indulging me while I re-tell my Aleigha's birth story! Enjoy part three!

(If you haven't yet, read Part 1 and Part 2).

I'm sorry it took me a month to tell the story. I didn't meant to take this long....really.

The Decision
Saturday, 2 am
After 48 hours

My labor was stalled again and I was not progressing.

The midwife began talking to us about our "options" again. She explained the risks of extended labor and her concern for the meconium in my water. We could stay and hope that I would fully dilate in the next couple of hours, or, we could transfer to the hospital and try pitocin to stimulate labor. Since my labor was starting to lose intensity (yes, again!), we decided to go to the hospital. My contractions were not likely to cause rapid dilation in the next several hours.

Power of Prayer
After talking to my mom later (after the birth), I learned that she was praying that we would decide to go to the hospital. Not wanting to interfere too much, she kept her thoughts quiet and prayed instead. I can learn a lot from my mother's example. One of her greatest strengths is praying for others. Of course, she speaks up when she needs to, but ultimately, she relies on prayer.

To the hospital!
Although I hoped and worked for a natural, unmediated birth, I was confident that we did all we could. Medical intervention was necessary. Our midwife called the hospital while we packed our bags to leave. My dad's rental car had a spacious backseat, so Jason and I drove with him. I fluffed some pillows around me and gripped Jason's hand. I prayed and prayed that I wouldn't have a lot of contractions in the car.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, my dad was really worried. I think seeing his daughter in labor was hard for him. He drove about 90 miles an hour at 2:30 Saturday morning, cutting a 45 minute drive down to about 25 minutes. Along the way, a police officer pulled us over. When the policeman came to my dad's window, my dad frantically told him, "My daughter is in labor and we're going to the hospital!" The policeman nodded and said, "Alright, go ahead. Just don't speed anymore!" My dad said "ok" and raced on.

Checking in
When we arrived, a nurse took me into a little room where I was checked and monitored. She took my vitals, listened to baby's heart rate, and timed my contractions. While she was asking me personal history questions, my contractions started up again. She took the opportunity to hook me up to a monitor to get a feel for the frequency and strength of each contraction. While she asked us basic medical history questions, the obstetrician on duty walked in. He was planning a c-section for us before he had seen/checked baby or me.

We explained the we were hoping for a vaginal delivery and that we would like to try pitocin first. He was upset with our decision, but he finally agreed to let us try pitocin.

I opted for an epidural, since I didn't want to try to handle pitocin (which makes contractions unatually strong) after 50 hours of labor. The epidural made me feel tingly and heavy, like an overstuffed human bean bag. I couldn't lift my leg if I wanted to. I was concerned so I asked the nurse to give me the lowest dose possible. After a while I could feel pressure, but not pain. Such relief! No. More. Pain. I should've slept, but I felt too excited to sleep. Instead, Jason and I talked and talked-- for what I think was over an hour.

The nurse was sympathetic to our hopes for a vaginal delivery. She administered the lowest dose of pitocin possible, enough to help me dilate but not affect the baby's heartrate too much. Pitocin can cause fetal distress, so too much would create the need for an emergency c-section and too little would not be effective.

She told us that if I did not fully dilate at a certain time (I can't remember the exact time), I would need a c-section. I actually don't remember her saying anything about this time deadline. Jason told me later. I was relaxed in the bed and enjoying the pressure of pain-free contractions.

Our nurse came in to check on me and announced, "Alright, you can push."

What? I can push? Really? I had been on pitocin only a couple of hours.

I tried to think about how I felt. Did I feel the urge to push? Well, maybe a little....?

The nurse came to help me pull one of legs up to my chest, mimicking a squatting position. Jason grabbed my hand and my other leg.

"Ok, get ready." The nurse said. "I am going to help you by telling when to push." A few seconds after a contraction began she said, "Push!"

I pushed. Pushing while not feeling my lower body was hard. I had to think about the muscles I needed.

"Push."  Breathe. "Push."

Jason's face was beaming. The poor guy was exhausted. He hadn't slept much in two days, but his face didn't show any signs of fatigue.

He cheered me on as enthusiastically as any guy would watching a football game. "Push, Aubrey, harder. Dig down deep." 

I wasn't sure what "dig down deep" meant, but Jason and the nurse were convinced that I pushed harder when they said it.

I started feeling more of my lower body again. Soon I could tell when to push on my own.

"Can you see? Can you see the baby yet?"

Not yet-- keep pushing.

The nurse set a mirror up so I could see what was happening while I pushed. I think the mirror was supposed to help me, but I decided I was absolutely not watching myself push. Ever. I did take quick peeks after each push to see if her head was crowning.

Finally, Jason said, "I see her!"

What? I think I stopped pushing a bit early to check the mirror.

"Oh no, her head went back. Push again!"

With each push her head peeped out, and then back in again, and again, and again. 

Finally, the nurse called the obsterecticion (Mr. c-section) in. "We're ready to catch the baby!"

I looked up and saw the room had filled with people. I don't remember how many and I didn't know who they were. A doctor happened to wander aimlessly in as though he were looking for directions. The OB laughed at him and said, "Hey, you wanna watch a birth?"

Really? Aleigha's appearance into the world is not a sideshow! I decided I didn't care as long as Aleigha would come soon!

Push. Push. Push. 

And, at 7:21AM, she was finally born. She needed to be cleaned immediately because of the meconium, so I didn't see her. But I could hear her; she screamed and screamed, clearly upset that her first moment in the world was marred by nurses wrestling her down to aspirate her lungs.

 She was cleaned, measured, weighed, and wrapped in a hospital blanket.

Then, she was brought to me...looking like this....

Meeting mommy for the first time.

Aleigha doing a little victory kick. Thank you to Grandma Waters for taking these pictures!

Hi, Everyone! (from Aleigha)

Friday, Jan. 11, 2012

Dear Mommy’s Readers,

Now that I’m 4 months old and weigh over 10 pounds mommy is letting me write in her blog!  Thank you for reading ‘cuz I know you all want to read part 3 of my birth (I don’t know why. You all know the end of the story—I was born, of course!)  Mommy needs a little break so she let me write.

Today we walked and then mommy bought coffee. A man said I was alert. You know, ever since I was born, strangers tell me I am alert. I just stare at them hard ‘cuz I don’t know what that means. I’m going to keep my eyes wide open and look around until I figure that out. 

I can now grab toys, roll over from my back to my tummy (but I don’t do that very often ‘cuz  I forget how), smile,  and giggle. Right now I like trying to pull off my toys from the toy mat, smiling at mommy and daddy, and chewing my fist. Yes, my fist. Mommy is trying to help me chew on toys instead, but holding toys while playing is really hard. So I prefer my fist.

I’ve been trying for weeks now to tell mommy that my mouth hurts. She didn’t understand, so I had to take action. I decided to wake-up every hour and scream so that mom would understand. It was exhausting, but mommy still could not understand. She didn’t tell me, but I cried so much she thought I….uh, had a brain tumor!* Poor mommy. She needs more sleep.

So, we saw the doctor today and you know what? He knew exactly what I was trying to tell mommy—I am cutting two teeth! Now mommy is helping by giving me a teething pacifier—it’s so fun!

Yours truly,

Aleigha

Editor’s note: Yes, I did edit Aleigha’s post. What can I say? I am a type A first born. She protested, but she’s a first born too.

I have to make a correction. Aleigha said that I thought she had a brain tumor. Actually, she doesn’t like to admit it, but I actually thought she was gassy [ahem] colicky—because she is! So, even though I know she’s teething (sorry sweetie—mommy’s just learning how to speak baby!) I am still cutting a.l.l dairy out of my diet. And you know what? I think it’s helping….
 

Aleigha's birth story (Part 2 of 3)

And now, for part 2 of 3...

Trying to Sleep

Saturday, 5 am – 8:30 am

After 27- 30.5 hours in labor

Our room had a king size bed so Jason and I could sleep in the same room…in the same bed! Under other circumstances that would have been romantic, but I was too busy trying to trick my body into sleeping.

My contractions were about 10 minutes apart and losing a bit of their intensity, but resting was not easy. With each contraction I felt pressure on my bladder. Contraction. Pressure. Bathroom. After each bathroom trip, I hoisted my pregnant self back onto the bed, propped the pillows up behind me and tried to nod off to sleep. Sleep. Contraction. Pressure. Bathroom. I would think that after a couple hours my bladder would finally empty. Nope.

Around 8:30 am or so the contractions resumed their intensity and I got out of bed to pelvic rock on the floor.

Rockin' the Labor
Saturday, 8:30 am – 11 am

After 30.5 – 32 hours in labor

When the midwives entered the room, I was crawling on the floor trying to manage the pain without waking Jason up. The midwives checked me again...and I had not progressed since my last cervix check; I was still at 5 cm. Even though I didn't know my progress at the time, I knew my labor was stalling because the midwives' suggested I use natural remedies to intensify contractions. And...I think they worked! My labor became strong again, so strong that I cried and cried and told Jason I "couldn't do it." We sat on the floor and he prayed with me.

I realized that this moment was one of the first times I actually prayed during labor. I felt remorse  for thinking that I could bring a baby into the world without His help. I'm convinced that God was allowing me to be in prolonged labor until I learned to rely on His strength.

An Afternoon Stroll with Jason
Saturday, 11 am- 12:30 pm

After 32-33.5 hours in labor

Since I was getting a little restless in the room, Jason and I (with the approval of the midwives) took a lovely walk around the Birthing Center. My labor began to intensify again as Jason and I walked around the building and down a little footpath. I don't remember what we talked about but I remember enjoying the walk. I needed to stop every few minutes to breath through a contraction, but the warmth of the sun and the cool breeze was a pleasant distraction.

When we returned from our walk I was checked again-- I was still at 5 cm maybe 6 cm. (Note to reader: if you lost track, this is the third check where I was at 5 cm. The first one was 8 hours prior to this one.) While I still didn't know my progress, I could guess from my midwives' reactions; they suggested more natural remedies.

Another Afternoon Stroll with Jason ...and Dad
Saturday, 12:30-2:45 pm
After 33.5-35.75 hours in labor

I am not sure when my dad arrived at the Birthing Center. In God's Providence he was in town on business around my due date. I was hoping that he could meet our baby girl, but instead he came to visit while I labored. Jason and I took another walk...this time with my dad. He and Jason conversed while I lunged through each contraction in an attempt to increase the productivity of each one. From that walk on, I squatted through almost every contraction and tried to "imagine myself opening like a flower." Yes, that sounds a bit nutty, but after 44 hours of labor, I was pretty much willing to try anything! 

Rebozo and other Techniques
Saturday, 2:45 pm - 7:30 pm
After 35.75-39.5 hours in labor

When we returned from our walk, one of the birth assistants came to me with a rebozo (long scarf) and told me that if she could turn the baby labor might progress faster. Aleigha's head was not quite centered over my cervix, which was probably why labor kept stalling.

I got on my hands and knees and she wrapped the scarf around my abdomen. Using the "sifting" technique, she gently but firmly pulled on each side of the scarf. The pressure felt wonderful and helped relive back labor.

During Saturday afternoon and evening, I think I used just about every laboring position available to women. I leaned over the birth ball, sat backwards over the toilet, leaned against the wall, sat on two different kinds of birth stools, pelvic rocked, laid on my side, walked around, squatted, sat upright and cross-legged, leaned against the bed, and crawled around. And, Jason did everything a wonderful birth coach could do. Her rubbed my lower back, warmed my hot pack, brought me water, and held my hands. To help relieve the back labor he use the pelvic squeeze method and applied strong counter pressure (both with his hands and with the rebozo).  He also made sure my rice heat pack was warmed and ready for my lower back.

 Finally at 7 cm!
Saturday, 7:30 pm- 8:30 pm
After about 40 hours in labor

 Our midwife wanted to check my cervix again to see if I was progressing. I don't remember the exact order of events, but I think she pulled Jason aside privately to speak with him about our "options." When she and Jason returned, they told me I was finally dilated to 7cm! But, our midwife told us that with the "prolonged" labor, we needed to make some informed decisions about whether or not we should continue to stay at the Birth Center or transfer to the hospital. We opted to stay-- I was excited to finally be at 7 cm and was confident that dilation would progress quickly!

After 40 hours, I finally resigned myself to each contraction. I labored confidently and didn't allow myself to think "I wish this would end soon" thoughts. I thought of Aleigha....of the meal I would eat when I felt like eating again...of napping with my baby...of having fun with my family after the birth.

Water finally breaks!
Saturday, 8:30-10:30 pm
After 44.5 hours in labor

My labor stalled again and I started talking to my mom about the stages of labor and asking her what she thought would happened next. Then I asked what having my water break was like. While I was talking with her I felt a contraction and, with Jason's help, squatted. As I squatted, I heard a "pop," like a water balloon tossed onto a cement driveway. Fluid gushed out of me...my water broke-- finally! If I wasn't 9 months pregnant I would have run circles like an excited puppy. The midwives checked my cervix again and this time I was close to 8 cm. Perhaps now our baby would be born soon!

Laboring and Time
10:30 pm - 2 am
After 44.5 - 48 hours in labor

Time in labor is unlike time during normal day-to-day activities. Sometimes each minute felt like the longest minute of my life. Sometimes hours would pass by before I even thought or cared about the time. But, the last 3.5 hours I labored at the birth center felt like 6 hours. Labor was intense and I was exhausted.

Around midnight, I managed labor pains by slowly dancing through each contraction with Jason. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend were were at a dance, like so many dances we'd experienced together. If I could pretend I was having a lovely evening with my husband, I thought, perhaps labor would pass quickly. With each contraction he would gently help me squat, and then support me as I stood up. While I didn't enjoy the discomfort and fatigue of labor, I felt peaceful and content in Jason's arms.

We weren't dancing for very long, but time stood still in those moments and I felt like I danced with him for hours. When the back labor grew too intense, we used other laboring positions.
The next 2 hours of labor was difficult. Since my water had broken, everyone assumed that I was going through transition. I thought so too. I prepared myself to have the baby soon. When I wasn't feeling the urge to push, I felt like I was losing my resolve.

Labor began to slow down again, and I felt so tired I didn't even care that I was not pushing yet. I wanted to sleep. Since each contraction slowed to around 5-10 minutes between each contraction, I sat on the birthing stool and slept, leaning against Jason for support.  I stopped thinking clearly here; exhaustion took over.

My memory is cloudy, but I think I remember waking up to a contraction, breathing through it, and then trying to sleep. Contraction. Sleep. Contraction. When I woke-up, I saw everyone-- midwife, birthing assistants, and my mother-- staring at me. The room was quiet and everyone looked a little concerned.

Our midwife broke the silence-- "Can I check your cervix again"? I agreed. After poking around a bit, she drew back and softly said, "There is no change."

More to come...

Aleigha's birth story (Part 1 of 3)

I’ve wanted to write about Aleigha’s birth story for a few weeks; however, exhaustion, feeding issues, and my return to online teaching prevented me from posting. Now that I am on Christmas break, I wanted to share my birth story. Since I was in labor for over 50 hours, this is a long story and I am going to post it in three installments. 

To all who were praying for the safe delivery of our little daughter, thank you!

Aleigha Faith Heki was born at 7:21 AM on Sunday, September 16. She weighed 5 lbs 15.6 ounces and was 19.5" in length.

We planned to have our little girl at the  NOVA Natural Birth center in Chantilly. The midwives, midwives in training, and birth assistants are wonderful, and I am grateful for their care.

My contractions started at 2 am on Friday, September 14. I labored at home for the next twelve hours. Although I tried to sleep through the contractions, I was not able to. The timing of contractions was irregular, and most of them were less than 5 minutes apart. We called the midwife throughout the day to report the progress, and twelve hours after labor started we left for the Center.

 
Checking in!

Friday, 3:15 pm

After 12 hours

We checked into the Center and brought our things into the birthing room. I was excited to think that we would soon meet our little girl! When we settled in, the midwives did a cervical check to see how dilated I was—I was 100% effaced but only 2-3 centimeters dilated. After being in labor all day I was disappointed that I had not dilated more. But, I knew that previous labor is not an indication of future progress, so I continued to labor and prayed that our little girl would come soon.

My Last Meal

Friday, 5 pm

After 14 hours in labor

The midwife told me I could (and should) eat and drink. Even though I didn’t feel like eating, I ate a chicken sandwich that my mom brought. Forty minutes later, the contractions became more intense and I….lost every last morsel of chicken sandwich; I didn’t feel like eating much afterwards, but was encouraged—my body was expelling everything in to prepare for the baby!

Slowing down...and picking up

Friday, 8:45 pm

After 18.75 hours in labor

Then, labor began to slow down, and the midwives gave me a choice of using natural remedies to stimulate labor or sleep. Since I had not slept much since labor started, I opted to sleep. And then, my contractions started to become stronger again.

She might come...any minute!

Friday 10:45 pm – Saturday 3 am

After 20.75 – 25 hours in labor

So, I labored in the bathroom for about 4 hours, but the time actually passed quickly. My wonderful husband never left my side as I breathed (and groaned) through contractions. Yes, groaning really does help manage the pain.

In between contractions, I heard one of the midwives mention “transition.” I was encouraged since transition marks the final moments of dilation before the “urge to push.” I’ve heard and read that transition lasts only about 10 minutes to an hour, so I leaned on Jason and labored on.  

Our daughter would probably be born before the morning!  And this is the worst part of labor—it will soon be over! 

Oops...false alarm

Saturday, 3 am

After 25 hours in labor

I never felt the urge to push and my contractions slowed down again. The midwives asked me if I minded a cervix check. I agreed to be examined; I wanted to know how “close” I was to giving birth.

But, my husband did not want me to know how much I dilated so I would not be discouraged with my lack of “progress.” In retrospect, this was a wise decision since I was only at 5 cm.

Floatin' in the Birthing Tub

Saturday, 3:30 am – 5:00 am

After 25-27 hour in labor

Shortly after the cervix check, the midwives finished filling the large birthing pool so I could labor in water. In the last few months of pregnancy, when I thought about laboring in water, I imagined that it would be a pleasant, relaxing experience. And, the tub did look peaceful. The midwives dimmed the overheard lights even more, turning on the tub light and tinting the pool a peaceful hue of blue.

When I climbed into the bath, I discovered that laboring in water was not as pleasant as I imagined. I tried to relax anyway through contractions and rest. Jason climbed into the tub with me, and I leaned against him. With each contraction, I remembered what I read in Ina May’s book and imagined the “rushes” bringing me closer and closer to meeting my baby. But I was becoming discouraged. Clinging to Jason, I cried and cried, desperately wanting labor to end. I was exhausted, simply from being awake for so long. And, the ache in my abdomen was extraordinary.

I don’t know how, but I guessed that I was at 5 cm. Turning to Jason I moaned, “how can I be in labor for so long? I am probably only at 5 cm!?” He didn’t deny or affirm my guess, but I could tell I was right.

This is pretty much what labor felt like. ;-)

Jason continued to comfort me and encourage me to take each contraction “one at a time.” What does labor feel like? Well, several women have told me that a contraction is like a menstrual cramp—not true! I've had cramps, painful ones, that felt nothing like a contraction. A contraction feels like a powerful hand that slowly squeezes the inside of of the stomach. Or, each contraction feels like severe constipation, nausea, and the stomach flu—all condensed into about a minute.



When Jason needed a restroom break, my mom came and sat on the edge of the tub. She told me that if Jason needed a nap, she could stay with me. I knew Jason needed sleep, but I couldn’t bear the thought of his leaving my side. The thought of him leaving left me fearful. I couldn’t labor without him. Yes, I felt a little childish and selfish, but in that moment, I needed him. When he returned from the restroom, I begged him not to leave, and he assured me that he would not leave my side.

During my time in the tub, I felt an incredible sense of fear and despair. Despair that I would never come to the point of delivering our baby. Fear that the pain would grow too intense.  I think that was the only time I felt like I was losing my resolve to give birth naturally. Without my husband's encouragement, I might have wanted to given up. 

Soon, the midwives came in and announced that everyone needed to go to sleep and rest.

Merry Christmas Eve! More to come...