I love all my kids dearly, but for different reasons. Today I'm going to write about James, and one of the traits that I love about him. Pretty much every day, he gets quite excited about every meal. He is my least picky kid, whose favorite food often is avocados. Sometimes hot dogs though too.
A common occurrence happened the other day, which I'll relate and you'll realize why every cook needs one of these boys around. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Supper-time! (the kids obediently come running, haha)
James: Mmm, I love supper.
Me: You don't even know what we're having.
James: I know, but I just know it'll be good!
Me: Well, I hope you're not disappointed.
After he starts eating, in a very sing-song voice, "Mm-mm, I was right, it is good!"
Often he'll say, "this is the best ____ in the whole world" or "this is the best supper I have ever eaten" or the other day for lunch "mmm, I love egg salad, it's my favorite" and then the next day, "mmm, I love tuna, it's my favorite". This kid just loves whatever food you make him!
Today though, my hopes were kind of dashed (after I was all puffed up from all his compliments) and he says to me (while eating yogurt, thankfully)
James (4): "Mom, do you know who makes the best spaghetti in the world (no 'r' pronounced)?
Me: "Umm, me?" (hoping)
James: "No, Kristie does!"! I guess pride goeth before a fall, hey?
Sunday, January 15, 2012
"Before I Formed Thee in the Womb....."
My friend Emmy wrote this and posted it on Facebook. She gave me permission to share it.
"Before I formed thee in the womb I knew thee; and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee, and ordained thee a prophet unto the nations."Jer 1:5
"I was thinking tonight about when life begins, does it begin like so many people in our culture believe when a baby has been delivered from the womb and is free and independent of the mother's body? Does it begin at conception, when a sperm and egg meet and are safely implanted in the mother's uterus? Or does it begin in the heart and mind of the Creator? If an artist were to create a master piece where would we say it originated? If we tore up his canvas and destroyed his brushes can you imagine his frustration at having this desire to create and seeing his lovely creation in his mind's eye and but being unable to ever form it and see it become a reality?
Burdette and I spent a season of our lives thinking and praying about this very thing. We didn't want to feel trapped, having many children that we didn't really appreciate or know how to properly care for. We also didn't want to be deceived by the culture or an ungodly world view. We could not seem to get away from the verses in the word that say that God knew us before we were even formed (Psalm 139:16) or even while we were still in our father's loins (Hebrews 7:9-10). They spoke so clearly to us that people are God's creation, that it wasn't about our physical bodies but about our willingness to be a vessel for the Lord to create a living soul, a child that he would give us the wisdom and grace to care for if we would trust him. As far as providing for their physical needs we believed His promises that He even cares for the sparrows and that He has yet to see the righteous forsaken or his seed begging for bread. We both had the testimonies of our fathers as well, who were honest, hard working men. They did not have college degrees or an earthly inheritance with which to raise us but they trusted the Lord and although Burdette's parents had 16 children and mine had 15 children we never lacked the things we needed. In fact we did not lack anything and both had happy childhoods, never even realizing the things we did not have because we had the important things that make children content.
My children and I were talking tonight about the Israelites in Egypt and how God multiplied them so greatly that Pharaoh became afraid and ordered the midwives to kill the boy babies. But the midwives would not obey and despite what the Egyptians would do to the Israelites God blessed them with health and children. Then I was thinking of all the blessings of the Lord through out the old testament and how many, many times he told his people that if they would obey him he would bless them with among other things fruitful wombs. (Duet 7:12-16, Isaiah 49:19-20, Jer 31:27 and 33:21, Ezekiel 36:37-38 and 36:10, Zach`2:4) Just to name a few! Also if you look up barrenness you will find that it was given as a curse.
I think it is sad that so many believers have taken a curse upon themselves and turned away God's blessings. What if the Israelites had thought, "This life is too horrible, I mean we are slaves! Why bring more slaves into the world? We better figure out a way to prevent pregnancy." God would not have had his large, healthy, victorious people to lead out of Egypt! I'm going to be like the midwives in Egypt. I'm going to refuse to obey the wisdom of this world that says to me that God's blessing is a curse and that I should destroy my children and prevent future generations from even existing. Instead I will pray that God will bless us and our children and if the world stands, our children's children with fruitful wombs and hearts that see God's gifts as good.
A while ago I heard one of our ministers read from Psalm 127 and he said he did a word study on the third verse. He said the word heritage in this verse means a heirloom, something precious and valuable that we would pass on from generation to generation. Isn't that beautiful? "Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it, except the Lord keep a city, the watchman waketh but in vain......Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord and the fruit of the womb is his reward. As arrows in the hand of a mighty man, so are the children of the youth. Happy is the man who has his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate." If any of you haven't thought about birth control from a spiritual stand point I would encourage you to read Nancy Campbell's book Be Fruitful and Multiply. It is full of scripture and rather than being legalistic I think it is very freeing. All of my love and good will, Emmy"
A little girl with a small family said in the Above Rubies magazine that I subscribe to, to her friend with a large family, "your family seems complete, mine feels like there's people missing." What insight! How it isn't about us anymore when we commit to have taken up our cross and followed Him. It's about souls for Christ. What better way to win souls for Christ than to increase the numbers in His army? My will, my dreams, and my desires fade in comparison with what my Master has in store for me when I seek His will to run ALL areas of my life. Yikes, that's a tall order!
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Readers, readers everywhere
Unable to put a finger on it, I have been thinking about readers (aka: those who read books, and books and books) and not sure where my thoughts should go because I was not really sure of where my thoughts had been. So, in some deliberate pondering, I came up with a few things. This topic has surfaced, because our oldest child is sure to be a reader. He LOVES books. He's taken off with reading, and, as his mother, I wanted to know how much I should encourage reading, and how much to set boundaries on it. Let me explain.
I grew up in a family of readers. My Dad has always loved historical books, non-fictional. He read us all kinds of history books, and still reads mountains of them today. He did go through a hiatus from them one time, and read the TinTin books quite thoroughly (after which he'd dream about adventures with Captain Haddock and relive them at breakfast each morning, much to our amusement!) My Mom loves biographies and health/nutritional books. My older sister read everything, mostly girls fiction though. She read and read and read. Every summer she would win the reading contest at the library, after checking out stacks and stacks of books. My mom would have to vouch to the librarian that she actually DID read them. My brother read everything too. He mostly read non-fiction. Things like the encyclopedias A-Z, the dictionary, manuals for machines, and of course lots of The Adventures of Tin Tin too. It wasn't uncommon for our whole family to be reading all those long winter evenings. Except me and my littlest sister would be reading Archie comics as our form of increasing our knowledge of the world.
Many of our friends were readers too, which got on my nerves because the girls would always rather read than play with me. And if they did want to play, it was to reenact scenes from books that of course I hadn't read. *du-mb* (my kid opinion) As I was explaining this predicament to my husband the other day, he summed it up, "so, you have a bias against readers because they shafted you as a child". Yep, that pretty much says it! One of my cousins also mentioned to me (as an adult) that when she visited our house as a child, my sister had her nose in a book the whole time she visited, leaving her feeling like she (my sister) didn't really care to have visitors. I don't want that to be my child in a few years, so am wondering how to strike that balance in my own kids.
In the book, First Born Advantage, Dr. Kevin Leman explains how many first born children are book lovers. He says that they attach themselves to books to avoid being hurt by people. (I can't remember why he says they do this, or what to do about it, but have found this if often true) Books don't betray. Books are less work than relationships. You can 'drop out' if you don't like what's going on, unlike real life. Because of this, many avid readers have a Pollyanna view to life, and have a much harder time dealing with reality. Because, in the real world relationships are hard work. Husbands don't come riding in on a white horse but instead are sinful human nature like ourselves. Real kids get dirty faces and behave unexpectedly much of the time. Wives in real life don't wear a flowered apron and always have a sunshiny disposition with endless energy and freshly baked cookies on the counter. (at least not in this house) But in books, you can choose what you want life to be. Loving reading is a great gift, but one that also needs discretion.
Another thought that sparked interest in me recently was a quote from a lady in a magazine I subscribe to. She was listing bits of advice for young ladies seeking wife-hood and later motherhood. She said, "I wish I had spent more time learning about how life works than having my nose buried in a book all those teenage years". I know of one man who ruined his eyes reading by the streetlight because his parents had removed his lightbulbs at night so he wouldn't stay up ALL night reading (when he had school the next day). He also read from the light that came under his bedroom door. I DO NOT want this to happen.
So, to close I still wonder- how much should a child read? How do you limit reading (if you need to) yet still encouraging a love for books? How do you censor what books your child reads (without reading them all yourself)? And at what age do you do this? Any thoughts are welcome.
Luke wearing his new hat and pj's, while reading his new book "Squanto" that he got from Auntie B for Christmas.
I grew up in a family of readers. My Dad has always loved historical books, non-fictional. He read us all kinds of history books, and still reads mountains of them today. He did go through a hiatus from them one time, and read the TinTin books quite thoroughly (after which he'd dream about adventures with Captain Haddock and relive them at breakfast each morning, much to our amusement!) My Mom loves biographies and health/nutritional books. My older sister read everything, mostly girls fiction though. She read and read and read. Every summer she would win the reading contest at the library, after checking out stacks and stacks of books. My mom would have to vouch to the librarian that she actually DID read them. My brother read everything too. He mostly read non-fiction. Things like the encyclopedias A-Z, the dictionary, manuals for machines, and of course lots of The Adventures of Tin Tin too. It wasn't uncommon for our whole family to be reading all those long winter evenings. Except me and my littlest sister would be reading Archie comics as our form of increasing our knowledge of the world.
Many of our friends were readers too, which got on my nerves because the girls would always rather read than play with me. And if they did want to play, it was to reenact scenes from books that of course I hadn't read. *du-mb* (my kid opinion) As I was explaining this predicament to my husband the other day, he summed it up, "so, you have a bias against readers because they shafted you as a child". Yep, that pretty much says it! One of my cousins also mentioned to me (as an adult) that when she visited our house as a child, my sister had her nose in a book the whole time she visited, leaving her feeling like she (my sister) didn't really care to have visitors. I don't want that to be my child in a few years, so am wondering how to strike that balance in my own kids.
In the book, First Born Advantage, Dr. Kevin Leman explains how many first born children are book lovers. He says that they attach themselves to books to avoid being hurt by people. (I can't remember why he says they do this, or what to do about it, but have found this if often true) Books don't betray. Books are less work than relationships. You can 'drop out' if you don't like what's going on, unlike real life. Because of this, many avid readers have a Pollyanna view to life, and have a much harder time dealing with reality. Because, in the real world relationships are hard work. Husbands don't come riding in on a white horse but instead are sinful human nature like ourselves. Real kids get dirty faces and behave unexpectedly much of the time. Wives in real life don't wear a flowered apron and always have a sunshiny disposition with endless energy and freshly baked cookies on the counter. (at least not in this house) But in books, you can choose what you want life to be. Loving reading is a great gift, but one that also needs discretion.
Another thought that sparked interest in me recently was a quote from a lady in a magazine I subscribe to. She was listing bits of advice for young ladies seeking wife-hood and later motherhood. She said, "I wish I had spent more time learning about how life works than having my nose buried in a book all those teenage years". I know of one man who ruined his eyes reading by the streetlight because his parents had removed his lightbulbs at night so he wouldn't stay up ALL night reading (when he had school the next day). He also read from the light that came under his bedroom door. I DO NOT want this to happen.
So, to close I still wonder- how much should a child read? How do you limit reading (if you need to) yet still encouraging a love for books? How do you censor what books your child reads (without reading them all yourself)? And at what age do you do this? Any thoughts are welcome.
Luke wearing his new hat and pj's, while reading his new book "Squanto" that he got from Auntie B for Christmas.
Friday, January 13, 2012
new option
I think I've finally figured out how to get the blog sent to your email if desired. On the top right, above our picture, you can now sign up. Let me know if you know of a better way, as I'm not so savvy in that area.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Tribute to Uncle Cliff/Ain't it funny how a smell can bring back a memory?
It all started with my chapstick fetish that I have. Over the years I accumulated dozens of those little tubes, and then one day said, "this is ridiculous" and vowed to use them up before I bought one more. Mind you, this was very difficult to do as buying chapstick is one of my biggest vices (in the material sense). So, since we've moved to WA, I have not bought any, but continued to use up the ones in my stash (which was overflowing profusely). Last spring I realized that my stash was empty. Completely and honestly empty. And I was using Lipsmackers Amethyst Grape (my least favorite kind of the lot, so it got left until last). Now, being the frugal person that I am, I couldn't bear to pay full price to replenish my supply, so I headed down to my favorite liquidation store Prospector's, as I knew they'd have some of what I needed. Bingo- they did! So, I rifled through their stash (at $0.25 a piece, mostly) and found a handful of brand new tubes in reliable brands in reliable flavors. There's nothing quite like getting a gross kind, in my opinion.
So, over the next few months I began using them. One in the car, one in my purse. One on the nightstand, you get the picture. Then I happened to open one and got not quite what I was expecting...in a good way. I opened a ChapStick original (you know, the pink kind with the black label, the most boring yet reliable flavor in the world?!) and the smell just hit me. It took me right back to being a kid and riding in my Uncle Cliff's truck home from church with him and using his black chapstick (while checking out all the other cool things in a bachelor uncle's truck).
Uncle Cliff (Staudinger) was my Dad's oldest brother. He would turn 70 this year in April, but died at age 47 from esophageal cancer. He was the only sibling that never married, thus spoiled us nieces and nephews quite nicely. He was a farmer, and prior to that drove a car carrier for many years (he would be my boys hero if he still was around and did that for a living!) He lived 3 miles from us, and did our farming for us since my Dad had a business to run in those days. We loved riding in the tractor with him or playing in the grain of the grain truck while the bed was dumping out the grain as it was unloading. (Mom hated that we did it because barley has burrs that would stick to our clothes and wouldn't come out very well), but Uncle Cliff let us. He would always ask us, "so, what did you learn in school today?" to which we'd reply, "nothing" and he'd answer, "well, I don't see much sense in going if you don't learn anything!" We still had to go though!
He had 6 vehicles, all of which were licensed and he drove regularly. 3 cars and 3 trucks. At his house you could jump on the bed endlessly and twirl the glass chandelier (in the guest room) all up and then let it go so it spilled fancy light shapes all over the room and no one minded. We never had to wear seatbelts when we rode with him (it wasn't the law in Alberta back then, but Mom made us anyhow).
The day he was diagnosed with cancer, I remember all too well. We were eating supper when we got the phone call. We had spinach that night, which was hard enough to choke down on a good day, and then after that gut wrenching news, was impossible to get down. I was barely 14, having a rough year starting high school anyhow, and that didn't help the problem. He had surgery, but there was one area in his stomach that wouldn't heal up, so he remained in the hospital on TPN (total parenteral nutrition via IV) since he couldn't eat. He was in the hospital probably 5 months when he then went home to my Grandpa and Grandma's house for care. He still thought he'd get better, but by then the cancer had spread to his liver. He was amazingly optimistic, but lost alot of weight and in the end was very jaundiced. He never pitied himself for being sick, but instead looked on the positives namely 1) he was living in this world and a certain number of people get cancer, and he happened to be one of them. 2) he was single, so if he died, he was glad that he wouldn't be leaving a widow or fatherless children as any of his siblings would have been 3) he was a Christian and would spend eternity with his Savior.
The biggest guilt I have ever held in my life, happened the week he died. It was a huge burden, and it took many years before I even had the courage to mention it to anyone, to lighten the load of guilt. Our whole family was over at my grandparents for dinner (all the cousins, aunts and uncles, etc), so us kids were asked to stay outside since Cliff was so weak. Right before we were to go home for the day, I ran inside to use the bathroom. Cliff was sitting in a recliner and said "hi, Rachel" as I ran by. I didn't want to see him looking so sickly, so I kept running calling "hi" over my shoulder as I ran. I could tell he wanted me to stop, but I ran right back outside and we went home. On the way home, I started to feel bad for not stopping and giving him a hug or small amount of my time. I realized that even though he looked so sick, he was still the same person inside. I vowed that next time we saw him, I'd spend time with him, even though it was hard. That was Sunday, and he passed away on Tuesday. I never got that chance. It was probably 5 years before I told anybody about it, and became bitter not only because of my own ignorance, but because of my selfish notions at age 14 about death. Why did I have to lose him? (not even caring that my Dad lost his brother, or my grandparents lost their child) It was all about me. It took a long time to heal due to my teenage selfish thoughts. In nursing school we studied death and dying, and I learned alot and vowed that if I ever faced death again, I would be open and honest and not hold all those feelings and emotions inside. Little did I know I'd be faced with the death of my 2 cousins the very next year. Healing that time was much more smooth and healthy even though their deaths were unexpected and tragic.
I seem to be veering away from the topic, but that's where my thoughts have gone today. I am thankful for the time with my Uncle Cliff, and after he died, my Grandpa told me "you were his favorite niece". I took that as a great compliment, and later found out why. When my parents moved back to Alberta from the Northwest Territories, we moved in with Cliff until we found a place to live. I was about 18 months old, and he and I became best friends. He'd tease me and I'd laugh, I'd tease him back. It went like that my whole life and he always called me his "Wascally Wabbit" (Rascally Rabbit).
So there it is, all over a little tube of ChapStick Original that I found at Prospector's!
So, over the next few months I began using them. One in the car, one in my purse. One on the nightstand, you get the picture. Then I happened to open one and got not quite what I was expecting...in a good way. I opened a ChapStick original (you know, the pink kind with the black label, the most boring yet reliable flavor in the world?!) and the smell just hit me. It took me right back to being a kid and riding in my Uncle Cliff's truck home from church with him and using his black chapstick (while checking out all the other cool things in a bachelor uncle's truck).
Uncle Cliff (Staudinger) was my Dad's oldest brother. He would turn 70 this year in April, but died at age 47 from esophageal cancer. He was the only sibling that never married, thus spoiled us nieces and nephews quite nicely. He was a farmer, and prior to that drove a car carrier for many years (he would be my boys hero if he still was around and did that for a living!) He lived 3 miles from us, and did our farming for us since my Dad had a business to run in those days. We loved riding in the tractor with him or playing in the grain of the grain truck while the bed was dumping out the grain as it was unloading. (Mom hated that we did it because barley has burrs that would stick to our clothes and wouldn't come out very well), but Uncle Cliff let us. He would always ask us, "so, what did you learn in school today?" to which we'd reply, "nothing" and he'd answer, "well, I don't see much sense in going if you don't learn anything!" We still had to go though!
He had 6 vehicles, all of which were licensed and he drove regularly. 3 cars and 3 trucks. At his house you could jump on the bed endlessly and twirl the glass chandelier (in the guest room) all up and then let it go so it spilled fancy light shapes all over the room and no one minded. We never had to wear seatbelts when we rode with him (it wasn't the law in Alberta back then, but Mom made us anyhow).
The day he was diagnosed with cancer, I remember all too well. We were eating supper when we got the phone call. We had spinach that night, which was hard enough to choke down on a good day, and then after that gut wrenching news, was impossible to get down. I was barely 14, having a rough year starting high school anyhow, and that didn't help the problem. He had surgery, but there was one area in his stomach that wouldn't heal up, so he remained in the hospital on TPN (total parenteral nutrition via IV) since he couldn't eat. He was in the hospital probably 5 months when he then went home to my Grandpa and Grandma's house for care. He still thought he'd get better, but by then the cancer had spread to his liver. He was amazingly optimistic, but lost alot of weight and in the end was very jaundiced. He never pitied himself for being sick, but instead looked on the positives namely 1) he was living in this world and a certain number of people get cancer, and he happened to be one of them. 2) he was single, so if he died, he was glad that he wouldn't be leaving a widow or fatherless children as any of his siblings would have been 3) he was a Christian and would spend eternity with his Savior.
The biggest guilt I have ever held in my life, happened the week he died. It was a huge burden, and it took many years before I even had the courage to mention it to anyone, to lighten the load of guilt. Our whole family was over at my grandparents for dinner (all the cousins, aunts and uncles, etc), so us kids were asked to stay outside since Cliff was so weak. Right before we were to go home for the day, I ran inside to use the bathroom. Cliff was sitting in a recliner and said "hi, Rachel" as I ran by. I didn't want to see him looking so sickly, so I kept running calling "hi" over my shoulder as I ran. I could tell he wanted me to stop, but I ran right back outside and we went home. On the way home, I started to feel bad for not stopping and giving him a hug or small amount of my time. I realized that even though he looked so sick, he was still the same person inside. I vowed that next time we saw him, I'd spend time with him, even though it was hard. That was Sunday, and he passed away on Tuesday. I never got that chance. It was probably 5 years before I told anybody about it, and became bitter not only because of my own ignorance, but because of my selfish notions at age 14 about death. Why did I have to lose him? (not even caring that my Dad lost his brother, or my grandparents lost their child) It was all about me. It took a long time to heal due to my teenage selfish thoughts. In nursing school we studied death and dying, and I learned alot and vowed that if I ever faced death again, I would be open and honest and not hold all those feelings and emotions inside. Little did I know I'd be faced with the death of my 2 cousins the very next year. Healing that time was much more smooth and healthy even though their deaths were unexpected and tragic.
I seem to be veering away from the topic, but that's where my thoughts have gone today. I am thankful for the time with my Uncle Cliff, and after he died, my Grandpa told me "you were his favorite niece". I took that as a great compliment, and later found out why. When my parents moved back to Alberta from the Northwest Territories, we moved in with Cliff until we found a place to live. I was about 18 months old, and he and I became best friends. He'd tease me and I'd laugh, I'd tease him back. It went like that my whole life and he always called me his "Wascally Wabbit" (Rascally Rabbit).
So there it is, all over a little tube of ChapStick Original that I found at Prospector's!
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Sleep, Glorious Sleep
I've posted about sleep in the past with previous kids, and since I still remain baffled, I'm going to "vent" again. First of all, I have to say that baby #4 (Isaac) is overall a very *good* baby. I use that term loosely, because it doesn't mean that other babies are bad, per se, but that they just are harder to figure out and harder to please. He's overall predictable and keeps a pretty consistent routine.
Since I discovered babywearing 4 months into Elise's life, it became a world of difference in happy baby vs. fussy baby. My back felt way better, and my baby cried way less; so how can you complain when Mom and baby are both happy? She still didn't sleep better, but I could at least get something done while she fussed, or else she fussed less because Mom was holding her, even if she was tired. With Isaac, I started babywearing from the start. I used a wrap, then have been gradually working towards a maitei and Ergo as he's gotten older. He sleeps wonderfully in them, right next to Mom. If he starts to wake up, then I just jiggle him up and down and he drifts back off (usually 1 hour in the morning, 1-2 hours in the afternoon). This created a very happy baby, because he got proper naps. The problem is now starting where he's 4 months old and getting very heavy, even though the carriers are awesome. And...I'd like to get a break when he naps (to give my other kids some attention mostly, but also occasionally to lay down and rest). So, I've began trying to train him to sleep on his own, which is going well....umm...we'll see in time.
What I'm figuring is wrong is that he goes through one sleep cycle, slightly rouses, and then wakes up when he's not ready to get up yet. (after 20 min or so) Then 10 minutes later he starts fussing because he's still tired. But not tired enough to go back to sleep yet because of his previous "pikku nukkua" (my dad's Finn words for "little sleep"). When he's in the carrier, my jiggling him gets him through that stage back into deep sleep again. So, I'm trying to teach him to do that on his own, and am not sure how exactly that is done!
According to "The No-Cry Sleep Solution" by Elizabeth Pantley (which, by the way, is my best recommendation for sleep books) she says that is likely what is happening, and keeping them asleep is the key. She claims about 1 week of doing this every nap should do the trick. So, I have to sit by him as he sleeps and then when he starts to rouse, quickly get him back to sleep. Today I've done that, and he slept 1 1/2 hours the first time and is now sleeping going on 40 minutes (yay!) The trouble has been figuring out how to get him back to sleep, as he doesn't take a pacifier very well, and nursing him creates burps that wake him up in a few minutes too. Today I just jiggled him until he settled again (about 5 minutes) and that seemed to work.
So, I'm hoping we're on the right track. I think my main frustration is not knowing how long to try something before putting the kibosh on it and trying something new. Usually I just go around in circles and never get anywhere but then the baby gets bigger and the problem finally solves itself. But, that would mean another 8 months of this until he's 1, and I'd really like to not go there if I don't have to!
Anyhow, he's awake and he's pleasant, so I'll close.
BTW, the books I've read are:
-The No-Cry Sleep Solution by Elizabeth Pantley (recommend)
-Nighttime Parenting by Dr. Sears (recommend)
-The Happiest Baby on the Block by Dr. Harvey Karp (recommend)
-Sleeping Through the Night by Jodi Mindell (various cry it out methods, don't recommend)
-The Baby Whisperer by Tracy Hogg (can't remember it being helpful at all)
-On Becoming Babywise by Gary Ezzo (tried it, but couldn't make it work for us with #1 & #3 kid)
Since I discovered babywearing 4 months into Elise's life, it became a world of difference in happy baby vs. fussy baby. My back felt way better, and my baby cried way less; so how can you complain when Mom and baby are both happy? She still didn't sleep better, but I could at least get something done while she fussed, or else she fussed less because Mom was holding her, even if she was tired. With Isaac, I started babywearing from the start. I used a wrap, then have been gradually working towards a maitei and Ergo as he's gotten older. He sleeps wonderfully in them, right next to Mom. If he starts to wake up, then I just jiggle him up and down and he drifts back off (usually 1 hour in the morning, 1-2 hours in the afternoon). This created a very happy baby, because he got proper naps. The problem is now starting where he's 4 months old and getting very heavy, even though the carriers are awesome. And...I'd like to get a break when he naps (to give my other kids some attention mostly, but also occasionally to lay down and rest). So, I've began trying to train him to sleep on his own, which is going well....umm...we'll see in time.
What I'm figuring is wrong is that he goes through one sleep cycle, slightly rouses, and then wakes up when he's not ready to get up yet. (after 20 min or so) Then 10 minutes later he starts fussing because he's still tired. But not tired enough to go back to sleep yet because of his previous "pikku nukkua" (my dad's Finn words for "little sleep"). When he's in the carrier, my jiggling him gets him through that stage back into deep sleep again. So, I'm trying to teach him to do that on his own, and am not sure how exactly that is done!
According to "The No-Cry Sleep Solution" by Elizabeth Pantley (which, by the way, is my best recommendation for sleep books) she says that is likely what is happening, and keeping them asleep is the key. She claims about 1 week of doing this every nap should do the trick. So, I have to sit by him as he sleeps and then when he starts to rouse, quickly get him back to sleep. Today I've done that, and he slept 1 1/2 hours the first time and is now sleeping going on 40 minutes (yay!) The trouble has been figuring out how to get him back to sleep, as he doesn't take a pacifier very well, and nursing him creates burps that wake him up in a few minutes too. Today I just jiggled him until he settled again (about 5 minutes) and that seemed to work.
So, I'm hoping we're on the right track. I think my main frustration is not knowing how long to try something before putting the kibosh on it and trying something new. Usually I just go around in circles and never get anywhere but then the baby gets bigger and the problem finally solves itself. But, that would mean another 8 months of this until he's 1, and I'd really like to not go there if I don't have to!
Anyhow, he's awake and he's pleasant, so I'll close.
BTW, the books I've read are:
-The No-Cry Sleep Solution by Elizabeth Pantley (recommend)
-Nighttime Parenting by Dr. Sears (recommend)
-The Happiest Baby on the Block by Dr. Harvey Karp (recommend)
-Sleeping Through the Night by Jodi Mindell (various cry it out methods, don't recommend)
-The Baby Whisperer by Tracy Hogg (can't remember it being helpful at all)
-On Becoming Babywise by Gary Ezzo (tried it, but couldn't make it work for us with #1 & #3 kid)
Monday, December 19, 2011
Kid sayings
I try to remember the cute stuff the kids say to write down, but it gets forgotten so quickly. Here's a few:
James was telling me how God sees us everywhere, in all that we do. He said, "Like when we're playing with Knapford Station, God says, "hey, there's James playing at Knapford Station."
At bedtime we were talking about how God made each of us special. I asked the kids to tell me what God had made special about each of them (thinking hair color, eye color). James says, "well, He gave me blood...and bones...and, oh yeah, meat!" (muscles)
Elise's Christmas medleys: "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way; up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky; and Jill came tumbling after."
"Dashing through the snow, in a one horse open sleigh; come on, let's go, Little Einstein's."
(this is from a few months ago when Grandma was here, but I still laugh about it) We were trying to think of something fun to do, so I suggested we go on a carousel ride. James immediately: "but what if we have to go to the bathroom and they won't stop it?"
Elise said "Christram" for Christmas all season. (Christram lights, Christram tree) She also called Joseph "Jofef and Mawy". Her other words that are her own pronunciation: wanting to eat a "yandwich" and go for a ride in"the Hentra" (the Sentra, our car)
James was telling me how God sees us everywhere, in all that we do. He said, "Like when we're playing with Knapford Station, God says, "hey, there's James playing at Knapford Station."
At bedtime we were talking about how God made each of us special. I asked the kids to tell me what God had made special about each of them (thinking hair color, eye color). James says, "well, He gave me blood...and bones...and, oh yeah, meat!" (muscles)
Elise's Christmas medleys: "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way; up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky; and Jill came tumbling after."
"Dashing through the snow, in a one horse open sleigh; come on, let's go, Little Einstein's."
(this is from a few months ago when Grandma was here, but I still laugh about it) We were trying to think of something fun to do, so I suggested we go on a carousel ride. James immediately: "but what if we have to go to the bathroom and they won't stop it?"
Elise said "Christram" for Christmas all season. (Christram lights, Christram tree) She also called Joseph "Jofef and Mawy". Her other words that are her own pronunciation: wanting to eat a "yandwich" and go for a ride in"the Hentra" (the Sentra, our car)
Christmas Wishing
Two years ago, we happened to be in Target doing some Christmas shopping when we came across a guy dressed in a red coat (80's era polyester, I might add) with a hand crocheted Santa hat. He did have a long white beard, but just regular jeans and work boots on the bottom half. As we met in the aisle, he asked James (then 2 1/2) "have you been good?" James nodded in fear and astonishment and we kept on our way. Later that day at home when Daddy got home from work, the boys told him that they had seen Santa in Target and "he was buying our Christmas presents". From that day forth, that is the real Santa. We've seen hundreds of other Santa's around- in the mall, on advertising, in books and on movies, but somehow my kids know they're all just men dressed up like Santa. That guy in Target though, he was the real deal. Even today, 2 years later, James said, "Santa buys our toys at Target, remember when we saw him there." Luke adds, "because if he made them they'd be out of wood, but they are metal trains, so he must get them from Target."
I came in on them last night as they were talking in their room at bedtime. I asked them what the topic was, and they said, "we're just telling about what we want for Christmas." I asked if they'd share with me what they wanted. They thought of a few things, and then I said, "what if that isn't what you get?" ('cause you know Moms know this kind of thing) And Luke said, "well, we just might get it, you never know!" So this morning, they were making up these lists, to put in their stockings to give Santa some idea of what they want.
James'
0 (means start here)
Mavis the train
Hot Wheels
A Candy Cane
x (means stop here)
Luke's
I want
A toy gun
A candy cane
A hot wheels
A pop gun
I want
a shield & sword
(he drew them as he didn't know how to spell them)
I love their enthusiasm about Christmas. They are counting down the days, and feeling the presents that are already under the tree to try to figure out what's in them. James says, "I just know they are going to be fun!" My Aunt B gave us our presents when we saw her the other day, and when the boys discovered theirs and the conversation went something like this:
James: Mom, what does this spell?
Me: T-i-g-g-e-r? You know that one.
James: Tigger...this present says it's from Tigger.
Runs to his room and wakes up Luke who is still sleeping.
James: Luke, I got a present from Tigger. You know, the Tigger from 'Pooh'.
Luke: Huh, a present from who?
James: Yes, a present from Tigger. Can you believe he gave me a present?
Luke: No, I'll come and look.
They go look together confirm the findings and also find that Elise has one from Frosty the Snowman, and Luke has one from Buddy Squirrel. Hmm. How does that work out?
My Grandma Kurtti started that tradition when she wrapped gifts (and who knows, maybe her mom did it too) to her kids that they were always from random characters. My Mom and B carry on that tradition (and perhaps the other siblings too, I don't know), and every year there are all kinds of gifts from all kinds of characters under the tree. But there is always a gift from Buddy Squirrel, and no one ever has figured out who he is!
I came in on them last night as they were talking in their room at bedtime. I asked them what the topic was, and they said, "we're just telling about what we want for Christmas." I asked if they'd share with me what they wanted. They thought of a few things, and then I said, "what if that isn't what you get?" ('cause you know Moms know this kind of thing) And Luke said, "well, we just might get it, you never know!" So this morning, they were making up these lists, to put in their stockings to give Santa some idea of what they want.
James'
0 (means start here)Mavis the train
Hot Wheels
A Candy Cane
x (means stop here)
Luke's
I wantA toy gun
A candy cane
A hot wheels
A pop gun
I want
a shield & sword
(he drew them as he didn't know how to spell them)
I love their enthusiasm about Christmas. They are counting down the days, and feeling the presents that are already under the tree to try to figure out what's in them. James says, "I just know they are going to be fun!" My Aunt B gave us our presents when we saw her the other day, and when the boys discovered theirs and the conversation went something like this:
James: Mom, what does this spell?
Me: T-i-g-g-e-r? You know that one.
James: Tigger...this present says it's from Tigger.
Runs to his room and wakes up Luke who is still sleeping.
James: Luke, I got a present from Tigger. You know, the Tigger from 'Pooh'.
Luke: Huh, a present from who?
James: Yes, a present from Tigger. Can you believe he gave me a present?
Luke: No, I'll come and look.
They go look together confirm the findings and also find that Elise has one from Frosty the Snowman, and Luke has one from Buddy Squirrel. Hmm. How does that work out?
My Grandma Kurtti started that tradition when she wrapped gifts (and who knows, maybe her mom did it too) to her kids that they were always from random characters. My Mom and B carry on that tradition (and perhaps the other siblings too, I don't know), and every year there are all kinds of gifts from all kinds of characters under the tree. But there is always a gift from Buddy Squirrel, and no one ever has figured out who he is!
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Christmas Letter 2011
Greetings this Christmas season;
Well, it looks like fall is winding down and winter is well on it's way. That's fine by me, although November and December tend to be rather windy in these parts, which makes going outside rather unpleasant. The loggers continue to log further up our hill, so there are log trucks passing by many times a day, which makes going for a walk not doable anyhow. I totally support sustainable logging, but when it interferes with my sleep or my walks, then I'm not so happy about it! They start going by at 3:30am some mornings and end at sundown. Talk about a full days work!!
Our biggest news is the birth of our baby Isaac William, on 
September 13. He was born at home (very quickly), so the midwife did not even make it in time. Greg ended up delivering him, and all worked out amazingly well. Isaac is doing really well. He is a very predictable baby, which gives me peace of mind, because I usually can find out why he's fussing and I also know what to do about it.
Luke is coming along with his 
homeschooling. He journals each day, works on spelling, phonics, reading, and math for lessons, and then reads history/geography/science books on his own for quiet time which he learns a wealth of information about different things. I like being able to see what his interests are and then find the answers for those subjects, rather than sticking to things he isn't interested in just because it's in the curriculum.
James is doing great these days too. He does a 'lesson' each day (coloring in a preschool learning book usually) and 
then helps me with chores while Luke finishes his schoolwork. He's a enthusiastic helper, but also gets distracted very easily and forgets what he's doing. He’s also full of funny sayings, so keeps us laughing most of the time. Yesterday he was asking why King Parrot killed all the babies during Baby Jesus' time. (Herod)
Elise is my best helper these days, but her intentions far outweigh her capabilities. She would love to wash all my dishes, but instead splashes water over the whole kitchen without getting any dishes clean.She loves to pester her brothers (and they love to return the favor!)
As for Greg and I, we're doing fine. Greg started a new job in February which has been a real blessing. It has less stress, more days off and is closer to home. We are very thankful for that. Before he started, we were able to take a trip to CA, AZ and NV with the family and enjoy some sunshine! Now we’re trying to get a few fall projects done (me- Christmas gifts for our annual Canadian cousins gathering, and he- cleaning gutters, filling muddy areas with gravel, hauling wood and *fun* stuff like that). He's also working on some Christmas gifts with his newest hobby of which I can't tell! Isaac sleeps fairly well at night, so we actually function well most of the time. Our family did get out clam digging a few weeks ago (at night) and that was pretty fun. I didn't dig, but just enjoyed watching the lanterns bob around on the beach. We hope to go again here soon.
Wishing you many blessings now as we celebrate the birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ!
Greg, Rachel and ours
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Thankful for...
Lately I feel like I'm getting back to normal after the new baby stuff of the past few months. We've settled into somewhat of a routine, and life is good. As it is Thanksgiving tomorrow, I've been thinking of the many blessings that I've been given, and how God is truly watching over us and guarding and guiding us each day. My dear husband and beautiful children are most appreciated, as well as extended family and friends. This new little baby Isaac is truly a miracle, and I am so amazed at the birth of each baby, how perfect they are, how much they teach us about ourselves (not always such fun lessons, but important, none-the-less), how they truly make us into less selfish, more Christ-like people if we're willing to let them teach us instead of forcing them to abide by our mindsets and preconceived standards. Anyhow, for all the blessings I've been given, there are times that I miss the past. I do miss a few certain things every now and then, and was just thinking about them lately as one of my old friends brought up some memories that ignited more memories of "single days".
Then tonight Greg suggested watching a movie, and my thoughts went to "I wonder when the last kid will get to sleep so we can actually enjoy the movie" and "I'd love a bowl of ice cream while watching but I know eating it that late will give me a sore throat" (as I'm fighting a cold) and "is it worth staying up with, when I know I'll be awakened by one of four little persons much earlier than I want to be?" Well, turns out here I am writing on my blog while baby is asleep on my lap (tried putting him down at least 4 times, all of which he awoke crying) and my husband is asleep on the couch and I doubt (again!) any movies will be watched.
So, the things I miss about "single" days:
-Eating whatever, whenever, wherever and being young enough and healthy enough for it not to make much difference (now I'm on a nursing mother diet, recently on a pregnancy diet, usually a no-coffee-after-noon-or-I-won't-sleep diet)
-Staying up late meant sleeping in as late as I pleased. And if I couldn't sleep, I was guaranteed a nap, as long as I wasn't working at nap time
-My body was my own. I could go to the bathroom uninterrupted, sit and relax without someone nursing, jumping on me, pulling my hair or necklace
-Waking up to an alarm clock is not fun, but funner than a crying baby or crying toddler who's wet the bed
-The camaraderie of good friends. I miss just laughing and talking with my "old" friends for hours and hours. I have a very best friend in my husband, but our hanging out time together is pretty minimal these days and usually is quite distracted when we are together. (or we're too tired to come up with something to say)
-Going for a "quick trip" into a store. I now unbuckle and rebuckle numerous kids, have numerous bags and purses and diaper bags at all times. 'Cause it really sucks to be unprepared when you've got 4 little ones following you around. (if you forget something in the car)
-Swimming laps, and going to the gym and working out. I miss exercise, the kind where you get your heart rate up, and actually burn a few calories. It just doesn't work so well in the wet rainy windy November here when it's dark when my husband leaves for work and also when he gets home. We try to go for walks each day, but lately that hasn't even happened due to log trucks and blustery days. It just makes everything so sluggish when I can't get some exercise.
-When work was done for the day, you went home and it was done. Now it's never done.
-Going on road trips whenever I pleased
There are many things I don't miss though, and it wouldn't do justice not to mention them:
-Working on someone else's schedule by their rules. I now am my own boss in many ways (although I also now have 5 bosses in other ways)
-Having to take care of car repairs/maintenance
-Being alone and fearing that I would be the rest of my life
-Profanity/unpleasant people in the workplace
-Uncouth roommates at times
-Living in rentals (boring white walls, rowdy neighbors, many flights of stairs, tacky decor)
Now, for a few things I am thankful to God for:
(note that it's 11:30 and my brain is getting pretty tired)
-An adopted family that always takes us in for Thanksgiving
-Precious husband and children that love me and forgive me unconditionally
-A Savior that loves me and forgives me unconditionally
-A warm, cozy, family friendly, smallish, red and white house
-Wood stove with a glass front so we can watch the fire and firewood for it
-Money for groceries and a car that gets us to the store to get them (that's Luke's but I'll ditto it)
-An enjoyable view out the windows where I look each day
-A minivan that makes parenting so much more enjoyable!
-Health and energy to do my job each day
-Coffee with peppermint mocha creamer with Trader Joe's dark chocolate
-My Laz-Z-Boy for rocking kids for hours on end some days
-Family and Friends
-A good job for my husband with 3 day weekends
-Supportive loving parents (and grandparents)
-The ability to stay at home and raise my children in a Godly environment
And on and on....
Happy Thanksgiving!!
Then tonight Greg suggested watching a movie, and my thoughts went to "I wonder when the last kid will get to sleep so we can actually enjoy the movie" and "I'd love a bowl of ice cream while watching but I know eating it that late will give me a sore throat" (as I'm fighting a cold) and "is it worth staying up with, when I know I'll be awakened by one of four little persons much earlier than I want to be?" Well, turns out here I am writing on my blog while baby is asleep on my lap (tried putting him down at least 4 times, all of which he awoke crying) and my husband is asleep on the couch and I doubt (again!) any movies will be watched.
So, the things I miss about "single" days:
-Eating whatever, whenever, wherever and being young enough and healthy enough for it not to make much difference (now I'm on a nursing mother diet, recently on a pregnancy diet, usually a no-coffee-after-noon-or-I-won't-sleep diet)
-Staying up late meant sleeping in as late as I pleased. And if I couldn't sleep, I was guaranteed a nap, as long as I wasn't working at nap time
-My body was my own. I could go to the bathroom uninterrupted, sit and relax without someone nursing, jumping on me, pulling my hair or necklace
-Waking up to an alarm clock is not fun, but funner than a crying baby or crying toddler who's wet the bed
-The camaraderie of good friends. I miss just laughing and talking with my "old" friends for hours and hours. I have a very best friend in my husband, but our hanging out time together is pretty minimal these days and usually is quite distracted when we are together. (or we're too tired to come up with something to say)
-Going for a "quick trip" into a store. I now unbuckle and rebuckle numerous kids, have numerous bags and purses and diaper bags at all times. 'Cause it really sucks to be unprepared when you've got 4 little ones following you around. (if you forget something in the car)
-Swimming laps, and going to the gym and working out. I miss exercise, the kind where you get your heart rate up, and actually burn a few calories. It just doesn't work so well in the wet rainy windy November here when it's dark when my husband leaves for work and also when he gets home. We try to go for walks each day, but lately that hasn't even happened due to log trucks and blustery days. It just makes everything so sluggish when I can't get some exercise.
-When work was done for the day, you went home and it was done. Now it's never done.
-Going on road trips whenever I pleased
There are many things I don't miss though, and it wouldn't do justice not to mention them:
-Working on someone else's schedule by their rules. I now am my own boss in many ways (although I also now have 5 bosses in other ways)
-Having to take care of car repairs/maintenance
-Being alone and fearing that I would be the rest of my life
-Profanity/unpleasant people in the workplace
-Uncouth roommates at times
-Living in rentals (boring white walls, rowdy neighbors, many flights of stairs, tacky decor)
Now, for a few things I am thankful to God for:
(note that it's 11:30 and my brain is getting pretty tired)
-An adopted family that always takes us in for Thanksgiving
-Precious husband and children that love me and forgive me unconditionally
-A Savior that loves me and forgives me unconditionally
-A warm, cozy, family friendly, smallish, red and white house
-Wood stove with a glass front so we can watch the fire and firewood for it
-Money for groceries and a car that gets us to the store to get them (that's Luke's but I'll ditto it)
-An enjoyable view out the windows where I look each day
-A minivan that makes parenting so much more enjoyable!
-Health and energy to do my job each day
-Coffee with peppermint mocha creamer with Trader Joe's dark chocolate
-My Laz-Z-Boy for rocking kids for hours on end some days
-Family and Friends
-A good job for my husband with 3 day weekends
-Supportive loving parents (and grandparents)
-The ability to stay at home and raise my children in a Godly environment
And on and on....
Happy Thanksgiving!!
Monday, November 21, 2011
The Case of the Missing Keys
So...I have this bad habit. One that I've had for many years, and although it irritates my husband greatly, it hasn't been enough of a problem that I have put forth the effort to change it. (regretfully)
My habit is that I leave keys in the doorknob after I unlock the door when we get home from somewhere. This is done out of sheer laziness, as I usually keep them in my purse or on a hook by the door, and I'm just to lazy to do it right away when I get home. So, they hang in the door until the kids are unloaded, baby fed, groceries brought in, etc. This usually isn't a problem, because we have a screen door on the outside, and the inner door is left open until I remove the keys and shut it. Well, the other day it became a problem. I was feeding baby, so I asked Elise get my keys and shut the door (since it's Novemberrrr and getting pretty cold out there!) She shut the door but left the keys in it. Greg came home later and was hauling wood and as he opened the front door, he found my keys much to his dismay (I had forgotten to get them, since the door had been shut). He then proceeded to "put them somewhere" and they haven't been seen since. I was feeding baby once again, and saw the whole ordeal, and will confirm that I saw him set them down somewhere in the entry way, but they are gone. We've turned the house upside down and been on the lookout for 4 days now, and still no keys.
I would like to say I hope I have learned my lesson. You'd think I would have learned it once before, since one time back when I was single I did a similar thing and as the keys were swinging in the lock, they caught on the handle of the screen door, making it impossible to open either door. I had to painstakingly remove the window from the screen door to get them out. I obviously didn't learn then. Now hopefully I'm a bit wiser.
The other bad habit (that I really am working on) that irritates my husband is that I don't screw lids on my juice/pop bottles fully while I'm drinking them. I mean, why screw it all the way back on when you're going to take a sip in another minute? Well, it so happens that many a bottle has tipped over or fallen out of the cup holder and leaked in the car (usually due to him not remembering my habit, or our unruly kids doing some stunt), so I am really trying to remedy that one.
My habit is that I leave keys in the doorknob after I unlock the door when we get home from somewhere. This is done out of sheer laziness, as I usually keep them in my purse or on a hook by the door, and I'm just to lazy to do it right away when I get home. So, they hang in the door until the kids are unloaded, baby fed, groceries brought in, etc. This usually isn't a problem, because we have a screen door on the outside, and the inner door is left open until I remove the keys and shut it. Well, the other day it became a problem. I was feeding baby, so I asked Elise get my keys and shut the door (since it's Novemberrrr and getting pretty cold out there!) She shut the door but left the keys in it. Greg came home later and was hauling wood and as he opened the front door, he found my keys much to his dismay (I had forgotten to get them, since the door had been shut). He then proceeded to "put them somewhere" and they haven't been seen since. I was feeding baby once again, and saw the whole ordeal, and will confirm that I saw him set them down somewhere in the entry way, but they are gone. We've turned the house upside down and been on the lookout for 4 days now, and still no keys.
I would like to say I hope I have learned my lesson. You'd think I would have learned it once before, since one time back when I was single I did a similar thing and as the keys were swinging in the lock, they caught on the handle of the screen door, making it impossible to open either door. I had to painstakingly remove the window from the screen door to get them out. I obviously didn't learn then. Now hopefully I'm a bit wiser.
The other bad habit (that I really am working on) that irritates my husband is that I don't screw lids on my juice/pop bottles fully while I'm drinking them. I mean, why screw it all the way back on when you're going to take a sip in another minute? Well, it so happens that many a bottle has tipped over or fallen out of the cup holder and leaked in the car (usually due to him not remembering my habit, or our unruly kids doing some stunt), so I am really trying to remedy that one.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Novemberrrr...
These pictures are from our recent fall photo shoot at the nearby lake. I usually have my aunt do the kids pictures every fall, but she took off to Kenya yesterday, so I decided to try them myself. My first location didn't work as the weather took a turn for the worse and then James fell out of the tree I was going to take a picture of him in. (and Isaac was screaming his head off, and Elise had a fever/runny nose) So, we did get one good family shot there, and then canceled that plan and then just took them at home later that evening. They turned out well, except I plan to redo Elise's, just because she has a pretty sick look to her in all of hers.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Birth Options and Opinions
I've wanted to write up my summary of our change in birth options this time around. I did a copious amount of research (and praying) prior to making the home birth decision, and want to share what I learned about our own situation, but also how it relates to birth in general.
My first 3 kids were hospital births, the first 2 with epidurals/induction/episiotomy/continual fetal monitoring, etc. For #3 we had a doula with us in hopes (and success) of avoiding an epidural to also avoid an IV, as well as other interventions that may have causes boy #2's jaundice => allergies (as per a snippet of information I had read somewhere). So, after a successful 'real' birth, (thanks to the doula and Bradley method of childbirth) I had the confidence that we could have a home birth without pain meds (my biggest fear for all my births), since we had done so already.
The only drawback was that my dear husband wasn't on board. So, back to my hospital midwife I went. At the first checkup, we brought the kids so that they could hear the baby's heartbeat. The midwife (who I love) asked the kids if they wanted to see their new baby. Of course they answered 'yes' and so she brought in the portable ultrasound machine and proceeded to find baby and take a few pictures of him/her. Less than 5 min was spent with the machine, we finished the appointment and out the door we go. Well, later that week we get a bill in the mail for $280 for that ultrasound. Ouch. Didn't even think of that when we gave our okay to it. This gave G the motivation to explore other options. He had just started a new job and there was a guy there whose wife had had all their babies at home, and they were expecting baby #5 at present. He and G got to talking, and he got a 'guys perspective' about the whole situation and soon G came home with the midwife's number. I prayed about this constantly, and then talked to the midwife myself and made an appointment, was still feeling pretty unsure and anxious about exploring a new avenue.
After our first appointment though, the midwife (Laura) had calmed all my fears and answered all my questions. She is about as experienced as they come (delivered 3500+ babies) and has never lost one. She's done many midwifery mission trips in 3rd world countries, and explained the licensing standards in the state of WA (of which I was confused prior). She is a Christian lady, and we felt like our prayers had been answered. She doesn't do the 'fasting glucose', but instead just tells you to eat before your appointment and she does a finger stick glucose when you get there. She has a little ultrasound machine and is able to check for fetal position, sex of baby, amount of amniotic fluid, cord length and placental position. Her pricing includes everything except the lab fee (for group B strep) and a birth kit (which you order yourself online to have at home when baby comes). Her mantra is "healthy moms have healthy babies", and if for some reason a mom ends up being high risk, then she doesn't even consider taking them on. That is what an OB/gyn is for, and she'll refer them as necessary.
So, what is considered high risk? High blood pressure, diabetes, multiple births, breech/transverse position, placenta previa. Not: first time moms, laboring too long/lack of dilation. (the state of WA has guidelines on what midwives can deliver and can't). The more information beforehand, the less chance of surprises at delivery. Good thorough prenatal care is key. My next question was: Why do you send moms to the hospital then? Answer: preterm labor (before 37 weeks), the baby flips to breech between last checkup and delivery, and pain control due to exhaustion. Hmm, none of those sound emergent. (she has a 4% hospital transfer rate, and the majority fall into the preterm labor category and are at 36 1/2 weeks) The next fear I had was hemorrhage. Why do women bleed (sometimes to death, as we hear of horror stories)? The number one reason is that the Dr/midwife/caregivers don't wait for the placenta to detach itself and they pull on the cord causing bleeding. Or, bits of the placenta are retained and this causes bleeding (quite rare, but requires a D&C usually).
Fetal distress (a common cause of C-section these days) is almost always remedied by change in moms position at home, and by not inducing the mom in the first place. Mom's are rarely told the hazards of induction (I know I wasn't), but rather the 'safety of the baby' is so highly stressed that interventions are started before they're even necessary.
Another question I had, which I read the answer to in "Ina May's Guide to Childbirth" by Ina May Gaskin was: Why did women die in childbirth so often 100 years ago (as we hear so much about, which led to hospital births becoming the norm)? The answer to this is many fold, but the main reasons are 1) when the settlers came to America, the majority were young men and women. Skilled midwives stayed in the old country, so many deaths were caused by not having skilled help at deliveries. 2) many women had rickets due to vitamin D deficiency which caused them to have a deformed pelvis which could not properly birth babies. Neither of these reasons are present today that we should concern ourselves with.
More to come in part 2....
My first 3 kids were hospital births, the first 2 with epidurals/induction/episiotomy/continual fetal monitoring, etc. For #3 we had a doula with us in hopes (and success) of avoiding an epidural to also avoid an IV, as well as other interventions that may have causes boy #2's jaundice => allergies (as per a snippet of information I had read somewhere). So, after a successful 'real' birth, (thanks to the doula and Bradley method of childbirth) I had the confidence that we could have a home birth without pain meds (my biggest fear for all my births), since we had done so already.
The only drawback was that my dear husband wasn't on board. So, back to my hospital midwife I went. At the first checkup, we brought the kids so that they could hear the baby's heartbeat. The midwife (who I love) asked the kids if they wanted to see their new baby. Of course they answered 'yes' and so she brought in the portable ultrasound machine and proceeded to find baby and take a few pictures of him/her. Less than 5 min was spent with the machine, we finished the appointment and out the door we go. Well, later that week we get a bill in the mail for $280 for that ultrasound. Ouch. Didn't even think of that when we gave our okay to it. This gave G the motivation to explore other options. He had just started a new job and there was a guy there whose wife had had all their babies at home, and they were expecting baby #5 at present. He and G got to talking, and he got a 'guys perspective' about the whole situation and soon G came home with the midwife's number. I prayed about this constantly, and then talked to the midwife myself and made an appointment, was still feeling pretty unsure and anxious about exploring a new avenue.
After our first appointment though, the midwife (Laura) had calmed all my fears and answered all my questions. She is about as experienced as they come (delivered 3500+ babies) and has never lost one. She's done many midwifery mission trips in 3rd world countries, and explained the licensing standards in the state of WA (of which I was confused prior). She is a Christian lady, and we felt like our prayers had been answered. She doesn't do the 'fasting glucose', but instead just tells you to eat before your appointment and she does a finger stick glucose when you get there. She has a little ultrasound machine and is able to check for fetal position, sex of baby, amount of amniotic fluid, cord length and placental position. Her pricing includes everything except the lab fee (for group B strep) and a birth kit (which you order yourself online to have at home when baby comes). Her mantra is "healthy moms have healthy babies", and if for some reason a mom ends up being high risk, then she doesn't even consider taking them on. That is what an OB/gyn is for, and she'll refer them as necessary.
So, what is considered high risk? High blood pressure, diabetes, multiple births, breech/transverse position, placenta previa. Not: first time moms, laboring too long/lack of dilation. (the state of WA has guidelines on what midwives can deliver and can't). The more information beforehand, the less chance of surprises at delivery. Good thorough prenatal care is key. My next question was: Why do you send moms to the hospital then? Answer: preterm labor (before 37 weeks), the baby flips to breech between last checkup and delivery, and pain control due to exhaustion. Hmm, none of those sound emergent. (she has a 4% hospital transfer rate, and the majority fall into the preterm labor category and are at 36 1/2 weeks) The next fear I had was hemorrhage. Why do women bleed (sometimes to death, as we hear of horror stories)? The number one reason is that the Dr/midwife/caregivers don't wait for the placenta to detach itself and they pull on the cord causing bleeding. Or, bits of the placenta are retained and this causes bleeding (quite rare, but requires a D&C usually).
Fetal distress (a common cause of C-section these days) is almost always remedied by change in moms position at home, and by not inducing the mom in the first place. Mom's are rarely told the hazards of induction (I know I wasn't), but rather the 'safety of the baby' is so highly stressed that interventions are started before they're even necessary.
Another question I had, which I read the answer to in "Ina May's Guide to Childbirth" by Ina May Gaskin was: Why did women die in childbirth so often 100 years ago (as we hear so much about, which led to hospital births becoming the norm)? The answer to this is many fold, but the main reasons are 1) when the settlers came to America, the majority were young men and women. Skilled midwives stayed in the old country, so many deaths were caused by not having skilled help at deliveries. 2) many women had rickets due to vitamin D deficiency which caused them to have a deformed pelvis which could not properly birth babies. Neither of these reasons are present today that we should concern ourselves with.
More to come in part 2....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)