breastfeeding woes

while it may be inappropriate to say the word nipple on facebook, this is my private blog, and i can say whatever i want. nipple. nipple. nipple. by the way, i am writing from my phone again, so there will be no capital letters in this entry.

ten months ago, i wrote that breast might not be best for me. but thankfully, this did not turn out to be true. blake and i enjoyed a wonderful breastfeeding relationship for six months. i loved breastfeeding so much and was so thankful that we had not had any issues.

then, in august i started to feel sharp pain when blake would eat. turns out, i got a yeast infection in my breast. we could not put blake in his cloth diapers because they rubbed his inner thigh, and the yeast liked to congregate there. with treatment, the infection seemed to go away, so i tried blake in his cloth diapers again. bam! the yeast came back with a vengence.

here we are, four months later still dealing with this awful infection. the treatment that worked before is not working now. the pain is unbearable, and my nipples hardly look like nipples anymore.

so the question has returned: is breast best for us now? or do i have to consider weaning blake? my mom says blake will be alright without my milk, but i might not be okay. it is hard for me to deal with this though because i'm a bit of a hippie, and i would like to continue breastfeeding for quite a while yet. it has been one of the most holy experiences of my life to sustain my baby with my body. i don't want to give it up, but for the sake of my health, this might be the best way to go. i am so heartbroken about it, but i have to kick this yeast, first and foremost! blake needs a healthy mom more than he needs momma's milk.

the little things

forgive the all lowercase letters, but i am typing this from my phone and can't use uppercase letters for some unknown reason. i have something important and potentionally heavy to talk about, which is probably no surprise to you.

but first, the funny part of the story. i was feeding blake his early morning num num's aka the boob when he took himself off and pooped. a big one. and then he fell asleep right after, and he cuddled up on my arm. it was so sweet. but there was a matter of that poop to take care of... so i changed him. as i was throwing away his dirty diaper, he decided to pee on his pajamas. so then i changed his clothes.

i got back into bed with him, and i snuggled him. he started to close his eyes, but suddenly, he started to hiccup. there was no way he would fall asleep hiccuping, so i started praying for him. i told god i needed to know that he cares about the little things. and wouldn't you know it, blake's hiccups stopped a minute later.

why should god care if blake goes back to sleep or not? there is a lot of crap going on in the world that he should attend to before my son's hiccups, isn't there?

the next morning, i was talking to a friend of mine who told me about a serious issue in her family. i felt overwhelmed by the seriousness of the issue and began to pray. and as i prayed, i realized why it mattered so much to me that god takes care of the little things... the immediate results things. it matters because the little things, the answered prayers that i can visually see and comprehend, show me that god is listening. and he cares.

i need to know that god cares so that i can continue to pray for my friend's family in full faith that god acts! we can't always see the results of prayer for these big things because serious problems don't get solved overnight. but we absolutely must keep praying! god is listening. and if you have lost faith in him, i encourage you to ask for the little things, like for the hiccups to stop. i am not saying god will always take the hiccups away instantly. but he will show up and show you his presence. and if that presence is there through the small things, how much more will our compassionate and sovereign god be there for the big things! thank you, god!

27

         I haven't written in forever. There's no specific reason other than, perhaps, laziness. But since I just turned 27 yesterday and am seeking to start this year out right, I decided to write something, anything!
        So since high school and college, I have facebook stalked enough to see that others have decided to better themselves. People are running half marathons and getting healthy. People have awesome jobs that they love. People are, in general, pursuing hobbies that they love. And I don't feel like I've done that. To this point, I feel like I've been more downhill, in some ways. Since the year after college, I stopped running regularly. I haven't found an outlet for my love of singing. This blog post isn't meant to be a downer, but I'm just laying the foundation to show how I've been inspired by others I've seen on facebook!
        In June, I decided I was done complaining about the extra baby weight, and I was going to do something about it. I started running again. Sometimes I was super committed, and other times, I was busy overindulging in cheese fries. But since mid-June, I have lost 17 pounds. I am now three pounds under my pre-pregnancy weight, which is awesome, but my old clothes still don't fit right. Bummer.
        Anyway, yesterday I decided to start 27 out with a bang and run 4 miles. But once I got to 4 miles, I decided to keep going, and I made it to 5 miles! I haven't run 5 miles since college, so it felt amazing to achieve something like that. Running is such an incredible thing because pushing your body and achieving a goal makes you feel so powerful!
        I want year 27 to be about no excuses. I want year 27 to be about growing relationships. I want year 27 to be about becoming a better me in all areas of life: as a wife, mother, daughter, friend, neighbor, stranger. Without further ado, here are some of my year 27 goals. I made a list of 27 goals to achieve, and I'm ready to set out and do them! Some of these things are things that will help me grow as a person, and some of them are just things that I want to do. I won't be sharing all of them, but here is a sampler. If you want to help me out with any of them, please let me know!

1. Run a 10k
2. Get paid to do something (aka get a job)
3. Be a better meal planner
4. Spend less money
5. Be more generous
6. Learn to knit, knit blankets for the Sweet Pea Project
7. Complain less
8. Do pilates
9. See Hanson in concert
10. Pray more
11. Be a healthier eater

        Being a mom has made me realize how much more I want for myself because I know how much I want for Blake's life. And I want to be a good model of living life to the fullest: being joyful, being healthy, having meaningful relationships with friends and family.

the balance of husband and father

Well, as you may or may not realize, I am not a man. Which makes me neither husband nor father. But I feel led to give some thoughts on the topic because I see a lot of different ways of being a husband/father. I've seen men that I'm thankful are not my husband because the way they like to live life is so different from what works for me. I wouldn't be happy in some of those relationships, but it works for those couples! The moral of the story is (or should I wait to tell the moral? I don't know, I'm a terrible storyteller!), you have to find what dynamic and roles work for BOTH of you as a couple. If the wife feels abandoned because the husband often goes out with friends and leaves her home with the children, it doesn't work for that couple because the wife isn't happy. If you don't mind if your husband is gone a lot, then I guess that's fine, even though I can't even begin to understand that.

As for my story pertaining to said topic, my son doesn't sleep well. I find myself getting up with him at least five times a night. For a month or so, I cried every day to my husband that I was so tired, and I couldn't go on the way things were. And night after night, he just stayed in bed while I got up with Blake. He justified it to himself that he had to wake up for work, so he shouldn't have to get up with Blake. And while this is true and the reason that I didn't ever outright ask for help, TJ realized one day that he was not being Christ-like in our marriage. He was not sacrificing for my sake. In our marriages, God has told the men that they must love their wives like Christ loves the church. This is a tall order for men! If you are a Christ follower, it is very sobering to consider getting up on a cross and dying for your family daily. But if you are a Christ follower, it's NECESSARY. When TJ realized that he was not being Christ-like in this area of our lives, he apologized to me. He desired to change his heart so that he could bless me with more sleep.

No man is perfect, of course. But I have seen a lot of change in TJ recently as he tries to help out, and I've also seen change in me. When I know that TJ is willing to help, it makes me more apt to fulfill my role in our marriage and taking care of Blake. I am more joyful about my role when I know that TJ is there to support me. I'm also more in love with my husband when I feel his support! When TJ comes home from work, he tries to take Blake and give me a few minutes for a shower or whatever. When there's a diaper to be changed, he often will offer to take care of it so that I can have a break from diaper changes. Ladies, I do not mean to say that if your husband is not doing these things, he is a bad man. But if you lack sleep and are barely functioning because your baby doesn't sleep well, and if you never get a break from diapers and childcare, it's a good chance to consider, with your husband, how are you both doing at being Christ-like towards each other? It isn't something you can accusingly throw at your husband, but it's something to pray about, and it's something to remind you that if you need help, your husband, as the head of your family, should be there to offer support. You aren't wrong to ask for help. You aren't wrong to ask that he be around more often.

I'm pretty certain there are no men reading this, but this is a challenge for all the husbands and fathers out there. Being a husband and a father is not something to be taken lightly. It's not something to just do when you feel like it. It's not enough for a man to go to work and come home, eat and sleep. In a marriage, both husband and wife need to question, what can I do to bless my spouse today? Will it sometimes mean that you don't get to do the thing you want to do? Yes. Is this what God intended for marriage and parenthood? Yes.

bigger than me

So I've been angry at God. I've been really angry because I feel like my needs have not been taken care of. I have asked God every night for months to please PLEASE give me a good night's rest. And I trusted every night that even though He hadn't come through thus far, He would that night. But He didn't.

When I think about it, this isn't a new struggle. I struggled for a long time to understand why, when I felt God telling me to be patient and stick by Ryan for such a long time, I was left alone in the end. I may have heard Him wrong, but I was so sure that I was in the right place. For a long time after Ryan broke up with me for the fourth time (yes, seriously), I was angry at God and didn't want to talk to Him anymore. I didn't understand. But now, I see. From the moment TJ and I started dating, I finally felt what it was like to be pursued, desired, loved. And now we have the most beautiful son I could ever have imagined. No, I couldn't even have imagined him. I never knew I could love someone so much as I love my husband and my son. God had to break my heart so that things would get better! And He knew all along that He had something better for my life. I just didn't trust it.

Anyway, back to this sleep issue, I've been angry at God. I haven't wanted to go to church. But then recently, I had a change of heart. It all started with one Saturday night when I told TJ how I was feeling. He told me, "You should read your bible. You should pray." And that just made me more angry. But when we went to church the next morning, the sermon was all about the bigger picture. Not that our problems don't matter, but there is a bigger picture, and the big picture is all about God's glory.

Since then, I'm still chronically exhausted. BUT God has been involving me in things that show more of the bigger picture. One example is IR4, an organization that connections a runner with a child with physical and/or mental disabilities. The runner dedicates their exercise to the child as a form of encouragement. I'm not paired up with a child yet, but seeing these children with so much joy written on their faces reminds me that there are others who have bigger problems than I do. And yet, they have joy.

So my child doesn't sleep well, and it sucks. But my child is healthy and has the gift of mobility (presumably) and that is reason enough to praise God continually. I'm guessing maybe years from now, I'll have some kind of answer as to why I had to go through this type of struggle (I'm really a 9 hours of sleep a night kind of person...) but even if I don't, I'll have forgotten this because I'll have a sweet boy running around, saying all sorts of strange things like toddlers do. I don't necessarily have an answer to why I had to struggle years ago with my relationship with Ryan. But it doesn't matter anymore because I have something so much more beautiful than that could ever have been.

There is a much bigger picture than this struggle. The bigger picture isn't that others are struggling more than me. That isn't the point. The point is that God is weaving all of our lives together in a tapestry that depicts His glory. My life is a part of that, and it's important. But it's only a part, it isn't the whole picture or the whole story. And if you focus only on your part of the tapestry, it's easy to get lost in your own woes. It's easy to think that God doesn't love you because He isn't giving you sleep. But God sustains me every day, and that is all to His glory!

To end, I want to mention my mother in law. Mom Rieger could not walk for years. She was in pain all the time, but she never complained about it. She called herself blessed, and she was full of joy. Was she happy all the time? No. It wasn't easy to be in her shoes. BUT she never used her circumstances as a reason to be ungrateful to God and to be unkind to others. And because of that example, I CANNOT be unkind to my husband because I'm tired. And I absolutely CANNOT be ungrateful for what God has given me because I'm not sleeping as much as I want to be.

writing a good story: finale

The sermon at church this past Sunday was about "poverty of relationships." Are we loving others as God has asked us to? Are our relationships shallow? Then this past week, a few things have happened with family and friends that have really broken my heart because I see the poverty of relationships for them. But it's not even about them and their own emotional turmoil and hurt; it's about what their children and/or grandchildren are seeing and learning from the situations. So I am challenged with the questions in my own life: Do I honor and respect my parents? Do I show love and grace to my husband? 

Mistreating your parents is kind of a crazy thing because if you don't treat your parents right, do you think your kids will learn to treat YOU right as THEIR parent? If your parents are elderly and need taken care of, you do it. If your parent needs a place to live and food to eat because they don't have enough money for their own place, house them and feed them! (Considering that they did that for you for 18 years or however long, I think it's the least you can do!) These kinds of things are a great example to our own children because it teaches them how to take care of others who are in need, especially our family. I never once considered that I wouldn't take care of my parents if someday they need me to. That's just what it means to honor my parents during that stage of our lives. I sure hope that my kids will learn the same lesson and take care of me someday! Watch out, Blake, I'm living until at least 90!

In light of other recent events in Jess Rieger Land, I wonder what our children are learning about the importance of marriage. Are our children learning that it's important to fight for your marriage and to keep your family together? Or are they learning to bottle up emotions, don't talk about problems, don't work through things. This is a huge kick in the butt for me because it's easy to forget about your spouse when you have a little one who is so dependent on you. It's easy for me to forget that TJ is dependent on me, too. THIS is when you have to fight for marriage! You BOTH have to fight to keep your relationship strong. I want Blake to learn that marriage is a lifelong commitment, and it's not a decision you go into lightly. Jesus forbids divorce for a good reason. It damages the couple in serious ways, but it damages the children in huge ways, even if they're already adults when it happens. God is challenging me to look at my everyday interactions with TJ as something for or against my marriage. It's the little things that either build up my spouse and our marriage or tear it down, brick by brick. And it's these little things that my children are going to observe and take note that this is how you treat your wife or husband and this is what a marriage looks like. I'm praying that, by God's grace, they will see more good example than bad. And when they do see a bad example, it will be followed by an example of grace and forgiveness.

All of this comes off as quite a rant because I have a lot of emotions going into this from situations with friends and family, as I mentioned. But these situations break my heart so much because of the children who are observing these bad examples. And I doubt that anyone reading this is cruel to their parents, and I hope that your marriage is not headed towards divorce. BUT the point is that it's the little interactions with your spouse and your parents that show your children what it means to honor and respect and be committed! Writing a good story with your relationships teaches your children how to have deep, meaningful relationships themselves. As small children, we choose who their friends are. But as time goes on, they will choose their own friends and form their own relationships. May we lead by example so that they choose friends and relationships that build up, rather than tear down. 

writing a good story: part 2

Before Blake came, TJ and I went through our movies and got rid of a few things that we thought maybe we didn't want Blake to see. Example: Boondock Saints. But now that he's here, I'm feeling like being even more strict about the types of movies we watch. I was watching the movie Just Friends the other day and realizing that some of those jokes are inappropriate. It stinks because some of the jokes are REALLY funny, and I've always loved that movie. But when I think about my son hearing and seeing things that are inappropriate, it makes me want to throw that movie away. You could argue that a mature audience can handle such jokes and nudity. But if it's bad for Blake to fill his mind with such things, why is it any better for me to?

The thing is, the jokes we laugh at and the images we look at tell our children what's funny and what is worth filling our time with. So I don't want to laugh at inappropriate jokes anymore. I'm happier watching Horton Hears A Who anyway. Sometimes TJ and I get made fun of because we won't watch certain things or because we enjoy watching kid movies. It hurts my feelings because I feel misunderstood. But it doesn't matter because ultimately, we are doing what we think God is asking us to do. And that's all that matters.

I like Blake seeing us fill our lives with family, friends, and adventures. I want him to see us serving others, being generous, being honest and kind. I don't want him to hear inappropriate jokes and inappropriate amounts of skin showing. If he hears us laughing at inappropriate jokes, he will learn that those are the things that are funny. And that would be a shame, considering there's a lot of other stuff out there that's ten times more funny than any inappropriate joke!

Even at this age, I know Blake is watching my every move. He's learning what is worth investing time in. He's learning what's fun and what's funny. He's learning how to care for others and how to be giving. Because I want Blake to learn good things from my actions, I'm challenged to live my life according to God's truth. By God's strength, I will be able to write a good story with my life by being wary of the stories that I watch on TV so that Blake might learn what's worth watching and what isn't. It's much more fun to live our story than it is to watch one on TV, anyway!

His Arms

Last Sunday, I had Blake in my arms, and it was time for his nap, so I just rocked him to sleep in the middle of the church service. I love those moments where I get to just hold him and watch him sleep so peacefully. He's at an age where sometimes when he's fussing for someone else, when he gets in my arms, he's content. Mom's arms mean comfort. Mom's arms mean everything is okay and safe. And while I wish that it didn't always have to be me because it makes me exhausted sometimes, there's something so beautiful in the fact that he trusts me and loves me that much. That I'm his person.

And that's when the revelation came. That's how God feels about me! He wants me to run to His arms for comfort and peace. He wants me to know that, in His arms, I am safe. It isn't a burden to Him that I ask for help because He loves to hold me! Being a mom is teaching me so much about the character of God.

I love watching Blake enjoy the toys that we give him. I love watching him explore the world around him. And I know God looks down and enjoys watching us appreciate the scenery and the people around us. He loves when we are thankful for the gifts He has given because, of course, He wants us to enjoy our gifts!

While I haven't carved out the time to read my bible very much since being a parent, I think I've learned so much more these past few months about God's role as Heavenly Father (and mother!) than I have my whole life. My dad never offered much affection or affirmation, so the idea of being God's child didn't strike me deeply before now. But now I realize in much deeper ways how much God loves me as His child.

In this world where so many children are the innocent victims of evil, I'm comforted in knowing that Blake is God's child too. I'm comforted in knowing that Blake is even more precious to God than he is to me (which is a concept I can't even begin to understand!). And while that doesn't mean that bad things will never happen, I know that God is watching over us and gives us power and protection over the schemes of the devil. But all of that is a much deeper topic that I won't get into right now.

Thank you, God, for the opportunity to become a mother and to know your heart in deeper ways! I understand much more deeply how you love and care for me as a precious child and how much you love and care for Blake, too!

blake's first beach trip

So I've been excited to take Blake to the beach since, I don't know... I was five months pregnant, maybe. I bought reusable swim diapers, a rash guard, and swim trunks. I browsed beach tents on amazon.com while nursing. But I didn't end up buying a beach tent because I figured an inflatable baby pool with a shade was cheaper and multi-functional.

I was waiting and waiting until it was close enough to our beach trip that I could look up the weather forecast, and much to my dismay, Monday and Tuesday (our days at the beach) called for rain. All day rain. I was so disappointed! It's kind of depressing to pack for a beach trip that you know you will end up in the motel room the whole time.

Monday was rainy, so we weren't in a rush to get there. We got there around 4 PM, and it was pouring rain. But during dinner, the rain stopped! So I told TJ we had to get out and enjoy the non-rain while we could. So we walked on the boardwalk for a little while, and then we even went on the beach and took a few photos.

Blake woke me up at 6:30 AM on Tuesday, which is way earlier than normal. I was not happy. But I saw sunshine! The weather forecast said it would start raining at 8 AM, so I got TJ up right away so we could go to the beach. We walked to the beach and put Blake's feet in the sand and in the water. It was such a sweet moment because I love the beach. He liked the sand, and he wasn't sure about the water at first because it was too cold. Once he got used to the temperature, he didn't hate it. After breakfast, it was STILL SUNNY so we headed back to the beach. I showed Blake how to jump the waves, and we took more pictures, of course. And it wiped him out! He ended up falling asleep in his baby pool/tent. For lunch, we met up with TJ's aunt and cousin, and we all went swimming in the pool because it was STILL SUNNY. Blake loved the pool. We bobbed him up and down, and he kicked like he wanted to swim. And then he got wiped out again. We never got even a drop of rain that day. I was so thankful!

On Wednesday, Blake woke me up early again, so we went to the beach, and then we got in the pool for a little. Then we drove down to Cape May for a whale watch. Blake didn't notice he was on a boat or anything, but he was fine. And luckily, TJ entertained him for a lot of the time so I could search for whales. We never saw any whales, but we saw dolphins, and I even saw a stingray.

We had a wonderful beach trip, and I'm so thankful for it. I couldn't have asked for more except for maybe one more day to spend there. I hope I can remember Blake's sweet expressions forever as he experienced the ocean for the first time!

the sin of ungratefulness

I once read that the first sin was one of ungratefulness. Adam and Eve disregarded everything that they were given, and they saw only that one thing that they were not given. I always read Genesis 3 and wonder how they could be so stupid to have messed up like that. If they were given every beautiful thing on the earth, and life was just wonderful and peaceful all the time, why couldn't they just be content, knowing that they have already been given more than enough? But if I really think about it, I guess I'm not content either.

This ungratefulness comes in the form of jealousy for me. It seeps into me like a poison, tainting my views of everything and everyone. It causes me to take for granted all the blessings that I have been given.

I'm jealous of women who seem to have no trouble at all losing their baby weight soon after having their babies. I walk around hating my body every single day. It's terribly depressing when you can't fit in any of your clothes, and it feels shameful not to have lost more weight after four months. But on the other hand, what a beautiful blessing to have grown and carried a baby inside of my body! What a beautiful blessing to be able to nourish my son every day with my body! What a beautiful blessing to be able to bounce, dance, change, and tickle my son every day! Maybe this body has a few extra pounds and stretch marks on it, but it sure is incredible what my body has done and continues to do! And hating my body and being jealous of others just tells God that what I've been given isn't enough.

I'm also very jealous having seen others get better attendance at their baby shower and more hospital visits from mutual friends than what I got at mine. I replay it over and over in my head, allowing myself to feel hurt and unloved over and over again. And maybe I am less loved by those people. But what about the people who did visit? What about the people who made us wonderful meals? What about the people who traveled quite far to come to my baby shower? It might not directly seem like ungratefulness, but if I focus only on the people who didn't show up, I ignore the people who did. And believe me, it's a lot more fun to think about the people who went out of their way to be supportive. My friend Allie came from near Philly for my baby shower during her difficult pregnancy. My friend Debby came from Harrisburg, leaving behind her own small baby. My friend Kayla made us three incredible meals after Blake was born to help out when I was really struggling! Wow, what a beautiful blessing to have friends who make loving me a priority in their life during those important times!

It's so easy when I'm tired and stressed to allow the enemy to invade my mind and make me feel like I don't have enough. It's the enemy who says, "Hey, those people didn't visit you when you had your baby! They must not love you!" But knowing that it's the enemy who tells me those stories lets me know that these stories don't have any truth in them. They are LIES!

God's truth says I am fearfully and wonderfully made. God's truth says I love you and gave my life for you. And those are the stories I need to be playing in my head. I can't tell you how much time I've spent lately arguing with TJ about how people don't love me and why I'm ugly. It has been a huge waste of my time (and TJ's) defending lies! And I don't want to do it anymore because I don't want to be ungrateful. I want to say, "Thank you, God!" rather than "Thank you, God, but I actually wanted this other stuff too." I want to allow God's truth to permeate every part of me and use my energy to praise Him rather than to be ungrateful for the many gifts He has given.

Time to Die

While this seems like a very morbid title for a blog entry, I assure you it isn't meant to be. The death I am referring to is the death required to all of us Christ followers--to lay down your life for the sake of others. We are, of course, commanded to lay down our life for all others, but it is most necessary to our spouses and to our children. I knew when I agreed to marry TJ that I was agreeing to put him above myself. It meant that sometimes I'm having a bad day, but I'm going to step it up because TJ is having a bad day, too. It means that sometimes I have to watch the show that he wants to watch. And God promises that I am BLESSED for sacrificing my desires for my husband's sake.

The good news is that dying to self in a marriage is a reciprocal relationship, where sometimes TJ will step it up for my sake. However, dying to self for your children does not tend to be directly reciprocal. It means that sometimes I am going to want time to myself, but Blake decides that nap time will be a little shorter today, so I don't get to read the chapter I wanted to read in my book. It means that when Blake needs me in the middle of the night, it doesn't matter how tired I am. Blake's needs will always come before mine (not that my needs are not important and do not need to be addressed). As a new mother, I'm learning how to address my needs in different ways. I'm adjusting. It means maybe I shower only every other day. It means that I wait to enjoy relaxing time until Blake is napping. It means that TJ and I schedule a date night maybe twice a month if we are lucky, and we cherish that time alone together. For these sacrifices as a mother, I am BLESSED!

Being called to be a wife and a mother are not easy jobs. I remember in college, my friends and I sat together and expressed what the one thing we wanted to do in our lives before we die was. For most of us, it was to get married and have a family. We saw marriage and children as our happy ending. I don't think we were thinking about the challenges of these roles at that time because we didn't know then what these roles require. But being a wife has made me a better woman. And being a mother is making me an even better woman. These are the roles I have been called to, and they aren't necessarily a "happy ending," but they are beautiful. Every day, I grow to be more Christ-like as I lay down my life for my husband and my son.

Perhaps my friends and I worded our biggest life goal incorrectly, for in order to have a good marriage and be a good mother, you have to die. These aren't the things that happen before we die; these are the things for which we die daily.

what it means to be honest

Several people have told me that they appreciate my honesty in my blog. Vulnerability has always been a quality of mine that I readily display because, well, I just have too many darn emotions to even try to hide them! But the willingness to be open and vulnerable takes a new form when it comes to being a momma. We all want to be perfect moms and do EVERYTHING right for our little ones. We worry we will permanently mess up our kids when, for example, they will only fall asleep while nursing. If we let it, anxiety can really tire us out, and seriously, as a parent, aren't we already tired enough?

At first I found it interesting that people would mention my honesty because why wouldn't people be open and honest about what their experiences are like and how they're dealing with them? But now that I see online forums and comments at the end of blog entries, I get it. Moms are hard on other moms. They're judgmental and critical. "OMG I can't believe that child still has a pacifier!" "OMG I can't believe that child is still in diapers!" And believe me, I'm guilty of doing this too (but at least it's only in my head). Why are we cutting each other down so much? We're all on the same team here, mom to mom. Don't we all have the goal of raising good and happy children? It's not easy to be open and honest about your experiences when you know that other moms are out there judging you.

Today I was looking at a blog that was about a mother bringing her young infant to the beach for the first time. The mother mentioned that she found it important to cover herself while breastfeeding on the beach. This launched a HUGE argument between readers who just had to comment with their opinion on breastfeeding in public. And it made me feel like I wanted to crawl in my shell with my own opinions and practices because I didn't want to be judged. And it's difficult knowing that when my son is hungry, and I decide to feed him in public, whether I wear a cover or not is going to be highly judged by every person who sees me. But what does anyone know about why I might not cover up? Blake gets overheated very easily, so covering him up makes him upset and fussy. So if I could find a way to stay modest enough and not wear a nursing cover, I would do it because otherwise, my child won't eat.

I'm definitely guilty of judging other moms on their decisions, but I'm trying not to be because I know we all (or at least most of us) are trying to do the best we can for our children in the best way that we know how. And I don't know the challenges that other moms are facing in these areas that lead to the parenting decisions they have made. If we didn't judge each other so much, maybe more people could feel comfortable being honest about their difficulties. It takes a huge load off your chest when you can say how you're feeling, but so many of us are just trying to keep it all together for the public. And who could blame them, when they're faced with a jury of peers who are all too ready to give their opinion.

Cutting another mom down by saying or writing a judgy comment is not what honesty looks like. People like to say something mean to others and then say, "Sorry. I'm just being honest." Honesty is being able to openly share your experiences without undermining another person's experiences. And if more of us moms could feel free to be honest about our experiences, maybe we wouldn't feel so pressured to get everything right because we would realize that not even one of us is getting everything right.

12 weeks? WHAAAT?!

First off, Blake is 12 weeks old today. I can hardly believe it! He's growing at a good rate and has stayed pretty average for his age in weight, so I'm thankful for that. We are having a few issues lately, for which I am in troubleshooting mode. First, he refuses to take a bottle. This makes babysitting very difficult because I stress when I'm away from him, knowing he won't eat. The other issue is that he's not adjusted well, so far, to living at my dad's house. He pretty much constantly wants to be held, and he won't stay asleep in his crib. So since TJ and I need to sleep, we put him in our bed. I don't love this option, though it does make nighttime feedings easier. Plus he still tends to prefer 11pm for bedtime, I am hoping and praying to resolve these issues soon because I'm exhausted! Other than that, though, he's a good baby. He loves people. He laughs now, which is AMAZING! The volunteers at the nursery at church rave about him. Apparently, he's a big deal.

So remember the woman who was certain she had postpartum depression who was so mad that this tiny, fussy alien was taking her away from her husband? Well, she had to take a pregnancy test a month ago because she didn't get a period, though she figured it was because of breastfeeding. She was disappointed when the test came out negative. I know, I don't get it either. Who wants to be pregnant again with a three month old?! (Two month old at the time, actually!) Apparently me. Sensible me knows better though. We had to save up a lot of money for my pregnancy last year, plus we can't have two babies at my dad's house! I know sensible me and TJ will win this argument, but impulsive me is ready for #2!! And yet I wonder if I could ever share my love with another child because Blake is kind of my whole world right now.



Remember the woman who said maybe breast isn't best for me? I was so wrong! I mean, it would have been fine to stick with formula, but I'm so thankful I was able to get him back to breastfeeding after such early bottle feeding! The fact that my body provides the food for my son is such a beautiful, holy experience for me. It's also a very heavy calling. I feel such a weight on me when he doesn't eat. A few weekends ago, we walked the MS Walk, but it was not great timing for Blake's schedule, so he didn't get to eat beforehand. He was napping, so it didn't really matter, but I knew he shouldn't nap that whole walk, but when he woke up, he would be hungry. So when we had the choice of the short walk or the long one, I asked for the short one for Blake's sake, but the group wanted to do the long one. It was a mile and a half longer, which probably took half an hour. Everyone said Blake was sleeping, so he was fine. But I knew better. Anyway, Blake woke up as we finished our walk, having slept too long and gone too long without eating, He was hysterical, and I felt so emotional like I had starved my child. It broke my heart. NOW I know to advocate better for Blake. I ended up feeding him in the car then after the race. It was a good reminder that day that Blake has to come first in my life. And while that comes pretty easily for me, it doesn't for others, especially when they don't know Blake's needs like I do. As his mom, I know his needs better than anyone, so I just need to let others know and stick to it, even if it means me making a sacrifice and/or looking like a party pooper.

writing a good story: part 1

For the last few weeks, I've really been wanting to exercise. But finding the time to do so is very difficult, especially because right now we are a week away from moving! I've been feeling like I don't do anything for me, and my entire life is consumed by taking care of Blake. Don't get me wrong, I love being a mom more than anything, but I know that I need some time for me. So today, my mom came over and babysat Blake while I went for a run outside. It was a short run, but I'm very proud of myself for lasting through it. And it was so rejuvenating to get some time by myself doing something that I enjoy. AND I'm hoping to get rid of some of this excess fat, so it feels good to actually do something about that!

Before Blake was born, I dreamed big dreams of running a half marathon in September. I thought to myself, if I can give birth, I can do anything! Well, as it turns out, I didn't technically give birth, so that makes me wonder if I really can do anything. And then there's that darned aspect of being busy all the time. But you see, this isn't about being a long distance runner or losing fat or anything. This is about writing a good story with my life.

Living my life passionately by, for example, striving for goals like half marathons, is what will show Blake what life is about. He will learn what it means to live a good story from observing me. Watching me live life passionately will give him the desire to find what he loves and to go out and do it!

One of my favorite poets, Rumi, says "Let the beauty you love be what you do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground." And what I hear in that is that living your life passionately is worship to God! Of course, Rumi wasn't a Christian, so I'm just taking my own interpretation there. But my point is that it's so important to me that I keep doing the things I have always enjoyed, like running and singing, because I want to show Blake how to live a full life. Believe me, I love to sit and watch TV, but I want Blake to have a childhood full of adventures and fun rather than lots of memories of funny commercials and good TV shows.

Lately, I'm very inspired by people I know who have changed their lives completely by choosing to exercise and eat right. THIS is what tells me that I can do anything, since they have proven that they can. So do I still have a goal of running a half marathon in September? I just might! So who's going to babysit in September for me while I run a race? ;-)

my mother in law

Last week, on Easter Sunday, my mother in law passed away suddenly. TJ's mom Betty had MS for 7 years, and it was really getting worse and worse right before she passed. Because of her disease, we knew that she only had a few years to live yet, but we really thought she had a few years. We were crushed at the news, but at the same time, we have a lot of peace. We are certain that she was in a lot of pain, even though she never let us know how much. She just always said that she was blessed. This is a huge challenge to the rest of us who remain! If my mother in law, who in her last days was confined to a hospital bed, could recognize and appreciate how she was blessed, the rest of us have no excuse to complain! I think of this often, since I do like to complain about little things.

We got the news that Betty was having trouble breathing and was likely having a heart attack while we were at my Grandma's house. We rushed home and started packing to go, even though we didn't really know what was going on. While we were packing, TJ got the phone call that she had passed. It was a mix of emotions. It was one of those moments that sort of feels like slow motion. You sort of go outside of your body as if you're watching yourself in a movie and say, "Is this really happening?"

Packing took a long time since we had never traveled with Blake overnight before. I was heartbroken at the news, overwhelmed at the task of packing, and anxious about how Blake would handle the change in environment. I managed to pack well for Blake, decent for TJ, and poorly for me.

The week was really meaningful for all of us kids because we got to spend time all together as a family. TJ's sister got to meet Blake for the first time. But Blake was all out of sorts. He wasn't eating regularly, and he wasn't sleeping as well. And to top it all off, by the end of the week, we all caught a cold. When it rains, it pours, I suppose. I don't even know how to begin to grieve the loss of Mom Rieger, and even if I did, I feel like I don't have the time to because all my time and energy goes to Blake. I wanted to spend last week supporting TJ, but, again, I had to take care of Blake. Taking care of Blake felt like a nuisance sometimes last week, but I was comforted in hearing Mom Rieger's voice telling me that taking care of him was the most important thing.

Mom Rieger was an incredible woman full of faith. I will miss her so much. She will not be here to see Blake grow up. She won't be here when I need to call someone for advice or encouragement. It is a huge loss for our family. In all the busyness of last week, I didn't get a moment to sit back and let it sink in, but now that I'm at home and can relax a little more, I'm really starting to feel the loss. I feel it more for Blake than for me because he will not know his Grandma. It's funny how God works. With her MS, she would have lost her sight soon and would not have been able to see Blake, but now that she has passed, she can watch over us and see him any time she wants to.

daughter of the king

It has been way too long since I've updated. Sorry to have left on such a depressing note, but I'm pleased to say that I am much more well adjusted these days to motherhood. I'm able to actually get sleep instead of being anxious all the time (and it doesn't hurt that Blake is sleeping longer stretches these days!) And I'm actually happy. I feel so much joy holding my little babe, that, in the times when he's screaming his head off at midnight, I can cope. Praise God! I know it's the power of prayer that got me through this adjustment period.

My prayers for myself have all been desperate pleas lately. "Please, God, just let me get two hours of sleep!" And when I asked for two, I was surprised to find that He gave me three. And when I've been staying up late with Blake this week when he is super fussy and inconsolable, Blake eventually goes to sleep and stays down for 5-6 hours! God has been blessing me abundantly, and by giving me what I need and more, He reminds me that I am still His daughter, even though I am a parent now. It's easy for me to feel like I don't matter anymore, but God wants me to know that I still have value, and He is still my father. This reminder is huge for me, but I don't know if I would have seen it quite so easily if it weren't for family and friends offering support to me. They have offered to stay over and take care of Blake so that I can sleep, and they have offered up wonderful meals so that I don't go hungry. They, also, remind me that I still matter and that, as I take care of Blake, I will be taken care of, too.

This reminder is so uplifting for me as a new parent because I need God's love over me now, more than ever, as I hold a precious child's life in my hands. And yet, as God is taking care of me, His precious child, I can trust that He is the one who holds Blake's life, not me. And that's a good thing.

the bar has been set high

i type this entry on my laptop one letter at a time with one hand. this is how i type most of the time now as i multi-task with nursing. it drives me nuts to type so slowly and sloppily, but it's either this or nothing! anyway, today i want to sing my husband's praises. i knew thar tj would be an amazing farther. but i guess i didn't consider how he would, simultaneously, continue to be a great husband to me.

as i discussed in my previous entry, i have really been struggling with baby blues. this scares tj because we are not sure how much "blues" is normal. there have been nights that i just can't stop crying, in the midst of blake having a crying fit. tj held blake in one arm and me on the other. tj has been so patient with me and has picked up some of my slack, like washing dishes, in addition to keeping up with his 50 hour work week.

when we brought blake home, we started formula feeding from bottles since nursing wasn't going well, so tj and i took turns feeding him. i got used to having a chance to sleep through a feeding at night, so when i went back to breastfeeding, it was difficult for me to imagine being the only feeder. now, if timing works out, tj gives blake a bottle around 11 or so, while i go to bed and get a head start on sleep. it makes a huge difference. he sacrifices his own sleep so i can sleep.

i know tj is exhausted from carrying the responsibility of making sure i'm okay, making sure blake is cared for, and trying to take care of himself. he has proven himself  to be a true hero to our family, and i'm confident he will continue to be our hero. tj has set the bar has set high for fathers and husbands everywhere, and i am so thankful. other family and friends have been very supportive and helpful, but there is nothing like my husband's mere presence to calm me and make me feel safe.

tonight, we are going on our first date night since blake's birth. i kind of thought it might be too soon, but the doctor recommended it because of my baby blues. i hope it will be a nice chance to get rejuvenated and reconnect with tj. i miss being just us, and i'm so jealous for uninterrupted time with him.

baby blues

So I have a few images floating around in my head that I saw on facebook. One of them is of a friend who had a baby a few months ago, and she took her one or two week old baby to a New Year's gathering. And the other isn't specific but a general hodgepodge of pictures I've seen of happy mommas with happy  newborns. It is these images that haunt me and make me feel like I must be a horrible mother who will never adjust to motherhood. These images make me feel like these other first-time mothers must have some quality that I don't have. It wasn't until a day or two ago that I realized that this was poison to me. Who knows how much these mothers struggled with their newborns crying for long periods of time for no understandable reason? Who knows how much they struggled with sleep deprivation and arguing with their husbands about nothing due to the stress? They aren't posting on facebook about those things because it's very personal, and random facebook friends may not necessarily be sensitive to these struggles.

Well, it definitely is personal, but I'm choosing to write about it anyway. I'm assuming that only people who care about me are reading this, anyway. The people who are reading this are probably the people who, if they asked, would hear my honest struggles.

I know that baby blues is a normal thing for a few weeks. And I don't know how much blues is normal and when it's a red flag, but I just know that I'm struggling a lot. I feel like an inept mother--that I wasn't cut out for this. I feel like this will never get any better or easier. I feel hopeless, like I'm just drowning. And I feel like I'm not myself, like I don't even know what being myself means anymore. People keep saying they would babysit for an hour or so while I go off and have some time for myself. But I don't even know what I would want to do with my time anymore (other than sleep). What would I enjoy doing? Where would I enjoy going? I don't know.

When TJ leaves for work, I watch the clock, just waiting for him to get home again. And he isn't even starting full time work until tomorrow.

Every night, I can't fall asleep because I'm so anxious about when I will be awoken next. When it's evening time, I start to dread the upcoming night. And in the morning, I dread the long day ahead.

And it's not because I don't love Blake. I love him so much, but this newborn phase makes me feel like I can't ever have another child because it's just too hard.

I don't necessarily have any happy conclusion to add to this because I'm still in the midst of this and haven't come out on the other side. I suppose I will come out on the other side, and this will all be a blip in time, and in a few years, I'll be wanting to do it again with another child.

I know that people say that this is just a hard phase, and it will get better. But it's hard to believe that during the times that Blake cries for three hours straight. Or when I've spent two hours lying in my bed and haven't been able to fall asleep yet, but he starts crying that he's hungry again.

This whole thing is so incredibly difficult, and it's not like I didn't know that it would be. But this is how I feel right now, and I've just decided to be brutally honest about it. Why? So that you will pray for me and understand how deeply I need the prayers. I won't sugarcoat it and make it seem like it's just something to pray about if you happen to have the time. No, I need you to pray for me immediately after you finish reading this, and if you can remember to, pray for me every single day for the next few weeks. I'm confident these feelings won't last a long time, but they may last the next few weeks, and it doesn't make this transition any easier.

In case anyone was looking at my happy baby photos or posts on facebook, you now know that that is not the whole story. I don't expect others to be so honest because I know facebook isn't the place for that, but it would definitely be helpful for me to hear that others have struggled, and when things got better, and in what ways things got better.

breast is best?

Throughout my entire pregnancy, there was no question that I was going to breastfeed. I think it is healthiest and most natural for babies, so I was really excited about it. Plus it doesn't hurt that it's free food for baby. I was prepared in knowing that getting a correct latch is key, and it isn't easy. In the hospital, two nurses helped me breastfeed for the first time right after my c-section. I didn't do anything, just laid in the bed while they did all the work. And throughout the next few days, breastfeeding wasn't so bad. I thought things were going pretty well. But even there, Blake would feed for at least 45 minutes, and he would still be fussy. He wouldn't sleep hardly at all. Even when we were holding him, and we thought he was sleeping, he would wake up and scream as soon as we tried to put him down.

When we got him home, it was worse. That first night at home was just the most horrible experience. I was basically up all night with him trying to get him to feed. I was so desperate to feed him that I didn't even care that the latch seemed wrong. I just needed him to eat and be done with it. When morning came, I was a mess. I told TJ I wasn't sure that breastfeeding was going to work out. Of course, it didn't help that my hormones were all out of whack. I couldn't physically breastfeed anymore because it was hurting me too much and was just too damaging emotionally for me, so we started using formula from then on. It only took a few hours to notice a difference in both Blake and me. Blake was actually sleeping, and when he fussed, he was fussing for a specific reason that we could solve. And I had a huge weight lifted from me.

We spent the weekend feeding Blake formula through a medicine dropper thing because I didn't want to give him a bottle before we made a final decision about whether to breastfeed. I felt so heavy with the decision, even though our decision was pretty much made for us because I just couldn't handle it. As a compromise, I was really hoping I could pump milk and bottle feed, even if it meant supplementing with formula. But I couldn't even get myself to express milk due to how much I was hurting.

Finally, this morning we went to the pediatrician and met with the lactation consultant there. She was really encouraging and did not try to force me to breastfeed. But she helped me with my breast pump, and right in that office, I pumped enough milk for two feedings for Blake. I was so overjoyed to know that my body could do it, and there was hope that I could still give Blake the nutrition from breast milk, at least for some of his meals.

I had come to terms with the reality that I just might not be able to give Blake breast milk. I think, in our case, it seemed that breast was not best. I am so thankful that there is hope that I can feed him some breast milk now, and I just praise God for this opportunity. Seeing milk flow from my breasts is such an incredible experience for me because it gives me that feeling of providing food for my son. Each time today that I have expressed milk, I thanked God, and I will continue to thank Him because He is so good! This is just one of the ways His goodness has shined in my life today.

blake makes his debut... reluctantly

Blake Samuel Rieger

Born 2/12/13 at 10:35 PM. 7 lbs 13 oz. 20 inches.

I must preface this story by saying that, at first, this story will not sound very uplifting at all. But as you can see from the above picture, there is a happy ending! It just goes to show you that even a story that starts with the word "induction" and has the word "c-section" in the middle is beautiful because it ends with the words "beautiful baby boy."

As previously mentioned, I was not too happy about being induced, but we were tired of waiting for Blake, so on Monday at noon, we went for my induction. The midwife suggested, since I was hoping for a more natural birth, that we start by inserting a balloon in my cervix to encourage it to dilate. She said that in 6-8 hours, I would be dilated 4 cm. By the end of 6 hours, I was so uncomfortable with these random tubes coming out of me down there. Then a nurse and the new midwife on duty came in and happened to mention the words "12 hours." Apparently this procedure actually takes 12 hours, not 6-8. Hmm... good to know. By 1 AM, exactly 12 hours after start time, I went to the bathroom thinking I had to poop, and instead, I pooped a balloon out of my vagina. What a weird feeling. The good news was that I was dilated 5-6 cm at that point! I was so excited.

The next step (starting at 1ish Tuesday morning) was the pitocin, which pretty much confined me to the bed, save a few bathroom trips in which wires had to be unplugged and IV units dragged to the bathroom with me. The contractions quickly became painful, and I hadn't intended on getting an epidural, but since I was already confined to the bed and thus wasn't able to do any natural coping methods, I opted for the epidural. I got kind of loopy as it took its effects and started talking about my tingly legs and ponies. Anyway, the epidural allowed me not to feel any pain at all, so I slept the day away.

Just before 6 PM, the midwife told me I was finally 10 cm and could start pushing. I was pushing pretty well and after a half an hour or so, the nurse said that they could see some of Blake's head. TJ told me that he saw it and that Blake had dark hair like mine. That was all the motivation I needed to push harder. So I pushed and pushed, but there didn't seem to be any progress. I kept telling them I needed to know if we were getting closer, and they kept giving me the same answer--that Blake's head needed to descend into the pelvis. Which didn't sound like anything had happened at all. So I pushed for three hours until I started crying that I couldn't do it anymore. Which leads us to the dreaded words... c-section.

They made my mom leave shortly after 9 PM as they got me ready for the c-section. She had to wait in the lobby. But it wasn't until almost 10 that they took me in the O.R. It was the scariest thing I have ever been through. They wheeled me into the brightest room I had ever seen, and there were so many nurses and doctors in there. I had been dealing with nausea all day, so the first thing I did was lean over the table and throw up medicine (that I had been given so I wouldn't have nausea). They set me all up and then put a tent around my head so I couldn't see, and then TJ was allowed in to be with me. I could feel a significant amount of pressure as they worked on me, so I was terrified that I would feel a knife cutting me. The doctor assured me that this wasn't the case, and that they had already started working. The procedure was very short, and then there it was... my baby's first cry. I couldn't see him, but I heard him, and that was enough to melt away the awful past two days. I instantly said to myself, none of that matters now.

I was pretty messed up after the procedure so they took me to a recovery room where they worked on me. I don't really remember any of it except that I kept trying to talk but couldn't get words out. Once I was a little better, the nurses brought Blake over to meet me. I couldn't hold him, but I got to kiss him and tried to breastfeed for the first time. And by breastfeed I mean, I laid there while the nurses got Blake to latch. If only it were that easy all the time... but more on that later.

We got to our hospital room at 1:30 AM Wednesday. I don't really recall the details of that first night with Blake except that I didn't get to hold him until the next day. But he was well worth the wait. He's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

Anyway, to summarize a long story... nothing about my labor and delivery went according to what I would have hoped, but none of that matters now. All I know is that I now am the mother of the most beautiful and healthy boy in the entire world (other mothers, it's okay if you disagree). And out of all the things I asked God for during my pregnancy, that was the most important one. So thank you, God, for this miracle of life. May our family bring you glory!

almost 41 weeks: nonstress?

Well, here I am at almost 41 weeks (not the best pic of me, but it is what it is). I'm so tired all the time, and my body is even more uncomfortable, which I didn't think was possible a few weeks ago! It has been hard to keep waiting because we are so excited to meet him. I spent the last few weeks trying to induce labor through different means, and it has only gotten me more frustrated because it hasn't worked. It turned into a means to try to control the situation, and it's just not possible to control this. People keep saying things like, God is in control. And I know that. It isn't helpful to me to hear it from others. I just want to hear an, "I'm sorry. It must be tough to keep waiting."

That being said, I feel like I have really learned a lot over these past few weeks. It has been a big journey of faith and doubt. I really thought that God would give us the January birth we had been praying for the whole time. And when He didn't, I said, "God, do you not care about us? Don't you care about what is best for us?" I was really discouraged, but then it occurred to me that perhaps God has some kind of bigger picture. Perhaps He knows what's best for us in other ways other than financially.

Today I had a nonstress test and an ultrasound; both went really well, and baby is healthy. We are really thankful to hear that everything is alright. TJ is very impatient at this point and probably would have agreed to induce today, but I want to wait a few more days to give Blake a chance to come on his own. I really do not want to have to induce labor, but we had to schedule it. So if Blake does not come on his own by Monday at noon, I will be induced then. Which brings me to my next doubtful moment. "God, do you not care about our desire to give birth naturally? Why would you start this labor out with drugs and set us up to need more drugs?" That's how I'm feeling right now. I'm hopeful just to know that by Tuesday, we will be holding our baby, but inducing is not how I wanted it to happen.

The good news is there are still almost four whole days for him to come naturally! We still pray that he will come before Monday, however TJ is not so hopeful that it will actually happen. I still hope. I'm trying to process what my mindset should be, though. Is it healthier for me to just think that labor will come on Monday and just be surprised and happy if it comes before then? Or should I continue to be hopeful that he will come sooner and perhaps be disappointed? I just don't know. What I know for sure is that my God is a God of blessing. God may not give us exactly what we had in mind, BUT His promise is to always take care of us and that everything will be to His glory. Thus, my new prayer regarding Blake's birth is that it would be for God's glory. If this is my purpose for everything, I cannot be disappointed that things don't happen according to my terms.

39.5 weeks: false alarm

So there I was at home, resting after doing some cleaning and organizing at my dad's house. I could tell my back was sore due to all the hard work, but then it started getting worse... so I thought maybe I'll just lie down and rest and feel better. But there was no position for my body to be in that made the pain lessen at all. Soon I was screaming and crying because it hurt so bad. I called my mom, and I told TJ he better come home from work because mom thought it could be labor starting. By this time, it was about 7 PM. We decided to go to the hospital, and we ran around finishing the labor bags just in case we would be staying.

The car ride to the hospital was just excruciating because my temperature kept fluctuating, and I felt so trapped in the car. My back hurt so bad I just couldn't even hardly breathe. I was already begging for an epidural and even a c-section. So there I am, in so much pain, and they make me come and check in at triage. They're asking me my phone number, address, emergency contact. They even asked me if I wanted to include my religious affiliation. I couldn't believe that I was sitting there, possibly in labor but definitely in pain, answering questions like this! They already had my information!

Finally we went to a room, and they hooked me up to a fetal heart rate monitor and a contraction monitor. I sort of had no choice but to lie in that uncomfortable bed in a certain position because of those monitors, so it wasn't fun. They were super busy in triage last night, so even when I pressed the help button, sometimes it took 20 minutes for someone to come.

They did two urine samples, and then they determined they needed to do an ultrasound because they started suspecting it was kidney stones. That ultrasound was the worst pain ever. She had to press on my kidney, where it was hurting the most. And then she was pressing really, really hard on my pelvic bone. I really felt like she was crushing my bones. I cried through the whole thing.

After that, I told them I needed pain meds. It took them probably a half an hour to get me a pill, and I'm not sure if the pill ended up helping me or not. 15 minutes after I took the pill, I vomited, so I might have expelled the pill anyway. I instantly felt better.

The doctor came in and told me that I had an inflamed kidney and a kidney stone. She told me I could stay at the hospital and be hooked up to an IV so it wouldn't be painful, or we could go home with a prescription for pain meds and wait for it to pass. I couldn't imagine staying in that hospital bed and gown for one more minute, so I opted to go home.

I was able to sleep through the night pain free, praise God! I haven't had any pain so far today, and I'm just drinking a lot of fluids to try to get this kidney stone to pass.

I am so SO thankful that I wasn't actually in labor, even though it was disappointing in some ways. I could not have survived a labor with that amount of back pain, not naturally anyway. So the 28th (the day TJ had been praying the baby would be born) has come and gone, and now, who knows. I'm preparing myself mentally for a February birth (a much bigger hospital bill) at this point. Guess we might be able to attend a Super Bowl party after all. Go Ravens! (I like that bright red color.)

39 weeks: being a hero

I've been saying to people that I would like to go all natural for Blake's birth, but I'm not going to tell them to refuse me the drugs if I beg. The phrase I keep hearing from people is, "You don't need to be a hero." And I keep agreeing with that because it gets my point across that I'm not going to refuse the drugs if I absolutely need them.

But I've been thinking... why shouldn't I be a hero?

I'm about to become a mom. And I want to be a hero to my kids, so labor/delivery seems like a good place to start.

Don't hear me wrong--I don't judge anyone who chooses to get an epidural or who needs to get a c-section. It's different for every woman. But I do hate how the hospitals just try to make money off of people and how getting an epidural or getting induced seems to have a snowball effect. And it's so easy to take advantage of a mother in labor who is in pain and whose main concern is the safety of her child. And what do we simple layman know about medicine? That's why I'm so thankful to be delivering at Women's and Babies with a midwife. In my experience at May Grant, I have not liked any of the doctors I've seen, but I have liked all of the midwives. The doctors keep pushing me to get more ultrasounds, for no good reason, and my midwife assures me that more ultrasounds would be unnecessary. So you tell me who is out for my good and who just wants my money. Unfortunately, these incidents have made me have trouble trusting doctors and labor interventions.

As I look forward to D-Day with excitement (and anxiety), I just can't wait to prove myself a hero. I feel like if I can deliver my son naturally, I can do anything. And that's a powerful way to start motherhood.

36 weeks: in defense of cloth

Here I am at 36 weeks. Getting big, but I'm hopeful that the weight gain is slowing and/or stopping soon!

I would like to give a defense for our choice to use cloth diapers, not that I think I owe any explanation, but just so you can understand our reasoning for such a decision. I have always felt burdened by the amount of disposable diapers that will lie in landfills for hundreds of thousands of years, but I didn't think there was any alternative until my wonderful friend Debby announced she would be using cloth diapers for her little one. I learned from Debby that cloth diapers are not what they used to be; in fact, they are quite easy to use and quite reliable. Let me lay out a few reasons why cloth is better:

1. They are cost-effective. I found a good priced brand of one size pocket diapers for which we paid approx. $6.50 each. In total, we paid about $200. Cloth diapering saves about $1000 per year, so considering that these diapers will take a baby from birth to potty training AND that you can use these diapers for subsequent children, that can add up to A LOT. (Of course if you pay your water bill, you would have to factor in the cost of doing more laundry. For us, that isn't an issue yet.)

2.They have super cute patterns. Sure, they might be more bulky than the disposable types, but who really cares?

3. Cloth diapered babies have less diaper rash. They are exposed to fewer chemicals, since disposable diapers are processed in factories and what not (this is clearly not a science lesson).

4. In case the idea of cloth diapering shocks you, let me take it one step further and tell you that we will be attempting to use cloth wipes. Yes, you read that correctly. Here's another great way to save money. And if you are already washing cloth diapers, you might as well wash some wipes, too.

5. Most importantly, going natural and utilizing reusable items is a way that I feel close to God. To me, it's important to take care of God's creation as much as I can, and using cloth diapers and wipes for our baby is one big way that I can do that. This is an important value for TJ and me, and we feel that it's a great way to introduce this value to our baby early on. So I really don't care what the naysayers have to say about our decision because to me, this is partly a faith issue.


I don't judge others for not making the same decision as us with this, BUT I do wish that parents would at least consider the option. I feel like our society doesn't even act like this is an option. We wonder whether we will have to use disposable diapers when we bring our children to the nursery at church or with babysitters, and it's kind of sad to me that we would have to do that. We will have to change our ways to accommodate and fit the norm. I hate the idea of it, but sadly, it might be what we have to do.