3 years

The past year of marriage has been a bit different from the previous two. This year, I was pregnant. This year, I gave birth. This year...we became parents.

Pregnancy did things to me that, frankly, weren't pretty. Some things were just downright ugly. And the weeks following delivery? They were far, far worse.

But Adam held my hand through it all, every step of the way. Not only that, but I don't think he missed one. single. day. of telling me how beautiful I am. He thought my round, pregnant body was sexy. Held me while I cried over nothing. Made me laugh when that was the last thing I felt like doing. Cheered me on in my very weakest moment - and assured me that, yes, I really did have the strength to push Axton out in the those last unsure hours of labor. Swung my legs over the side of the bed when I could no longer do it myself (both before and after delivery). Simply put, he loved me. All of me. Outside, inside, good, bad, ugly, sad. It did not matter. Nothing changed in our relationship - except for, it did. It strengthened.

Everything we experience together - and there have been a lot of new experiences this past year - just brings us closer and makes us that much happier that we chose each other. And that we continue to choose each other. We choose us. Always and forever.

Adam, you're my favorite.

1 year.
2 years.

Doing is becoming

Now that Axton, Adam, and I are all getting pretty well settled into a routine that is normal and healthy and, for the most part, happy, I'm determined that not only can I be more than a wife and mom, but I need to be. It's your typical "I can't completely lose my identity to motherhood" syndrome. 

So I asked myself what other identities would I like to have? What kind of person do I want to be? What kinds of things do I want to spend my time doing? 

I decided on 3 things I wanted to be:

A photographer

A writer

A runner

And because in order to be these things, I must do these things, This is how I am working on photographing, writing, and running:

• Someone asked me to take their quite-active boys' photos when I was very pregnant (and there wasn't much of a time during my pregnancy that I wasn't very pregnant). At first my answer was yes....and then I pictured myself getting low to the ground, trying to bend my awkward belly into just the right position to get the perfect shot or running behind those wild boys, waddling like a penguin and gasping for air....and I had to turn right back around and tell her no, I think I will take a maternity leave. And actually, that was quite a fun thought to me, that I could say that. Anywho, the point of this story is to tell you that, after quite a long maternity leave,     I am back in the photography business! We had to get rid of my old website we worked so hard on, but I am in the process of shifting things to a blog. Check it out here, become a follower, leave a comment! Better yet, book a session!

• I am working on a personal essay on my journey through pregnancy and early motherhood to submit to a contest. If there was a particular post or thought that I've shared on this blog that you really enjoyed, I would totally appreciate you mentioning it and I will include it in the essay. That would mean loads to me! And maybe I will even share it on here, if I happen to be pleased with the final product.

• I will be running in the Baltimore 5k on October 13th. It may not seem like much to you experienced runners out there, but it's quite the task for this four-month-postpartum body of mine. I needed a goal and a deadline, and this race provided both. Adam and Axton may be joining me, but that's up to Adam. I have decided that running is for me. I even stopped bringing my dog with me because he slowed me down too much and I just needed something that I did solely for me. So now I leave the dog at home and I fly. Well, you know, I feel like I do, anyway... you know, one of these syndromes:

Source

Pinterest Challenges 1-4

So thanks to Jessica's challenge to finish 10 pins in the month of August and thanks to getting some fancy new noodle bowls in the mail today, I decided to try this Malaysian Veggie Laksa that's been sitting under my Vegetarian board for quite some time now.

I definitely made a few of my own modifications (the most obvious being the fact that I used Ramen noodles! Oh for shame! But it was still delicious). Original recipe can be found here.

Pin #1: Malaysian Veggie Laksa (success)
2 Ramen noodle packages
1 tsp olive oil
2 Tbs red curry paste
1 chopped onion
1 tsp minced garlic
1 can light coconut milk
1 cup chopped red pepper and zucchini
2 cups boiling water


Heat olive oil in a large pot. Cook curry paste, onion, and garlic in the oil until onions are softened. Add can of coconut milk, peppers, and zucchini. Boil until veggies are softened.

While veggies are boiling, cook ramen noodles. When noodles are done, measure two cups of the boiling water and add to the coconut milk, along with the noodles and the two seasoning packets.
That's it! So easy and sooo yummy. I also added crushed red pepper flakes cuz I like it hot.

Pin #2: Braid Buns (fail)

Source.

I'm pretty okay when it comes to doing my own hair.....except for braids. Dreaded braids. I can't braid other people's hair and I certainly can't braid my own hair. So I should have known this was going to be a failed attempt from the very beginning, but I thought it looked simple enough. First of all, I didn't do the braid within the braid like the directions said because that's just too many braids. I got the three sections braided and things were already looking ugly. Then when I started to try to pin them up, they just kept falling out and down and around and all over. My layers poking out of the braids didn't look cute-messy, they looked sloppy-messy. By the time I gave up, it looked like I had let a four-year-old do my hair - and it was just about as painful too. I tried to take a picture but I wasn't flexible enough and Adam wasn't home and I wasn't about to keep my hair like that the whole day. I'm sure anyone else could have made this pin work, but not me. (Total use of the word "braid": 9)

Pin #3: Striped Nails (fail)

Original pin

I've got way too high of hopes for myself when it comes to pins, apparently. I know I can't paint my own nails for the life of me, and yet here I am trying. And trying one with stripes nonetheless. But, really, I didn't even get to that step before I failed.

I put three different colors on my nails like it shows in the top right-hand corner of the photo, but I used green, blue, and silver (they matched, I promise). That paint job was pretty ugly already. While I was waiting for that layer to dry, my dog needed his collar on and, like usual, I just said, "Oh they should be fine by now anyway," and started putting his collar on. By the time I was done with that, my nails were pretty butchered. But I figured with the top color over it you wouldn't be able to tell. So then I couldn't find my black nail polish, nor any tape thin enough to make the stripes. So I thought I could just use my silver crackle paint on top and maybe that would really seal the deal. Well, seal it, it did. A terrible paint job to begin with + smudges from the dog collar + messy crackle paint = really, really, really ugly nails. So I did what any other girl would do at this point - I took it off. Aaaaaaaaand of course we didn't have nail polish remover so I just scraped it off. Lovely. I'm sure you've got a pretty good idea of what my fingers (not just nails anymore) looked like at this point.

This is what they looked like three days and a gazillion hand-washes later. Still not too hot.

Pin #4: Potato Salad (kind of success)

I am definitely a lot better at Recipe pins than Style pins. This Potato salad recipe added sugar, something I'd never done before. I didn't really like it - I like my potato salad to have more of a kick, so I probably won't be using this recipe again.


And here's a picture of my boy. Just because he's cute. I didn't make anything else in this photo but the child, and hey, at least I didn't need a pin to know how to make him :)

How do you know?

Awhile back I had a friend ask me how we knew it was time to have a baby. She asked how to tell the difference between just being baby hungry and when it's, you know, "right." I think if you were to ask anyone this question, we all would have different answers. Here's what I told her:


Adam and I had also originally said we wanted to wait 5 years before having kids. And then that changed to, "Well, we'll wait until we just can't wait any longer."

Well, I graduated in December of 2010 and at this point Adam and I had been married for almost a year and a half. I started getting pretty baby hungry at that point - mostly, I think, because I was finally done with school, we had a job lined up for Adam, and I was too scared at the idea of me getting a "real" job too. So we threw away the protection and left it up to fate. However, I still had my Europe trip coming up in April. I took my chances and figured "morning sickness can't be that bad.....I'd be fine!" Psh. I'm so glad I didn't get pregnant before my trip.

When I got home from my 4 week backpacking trip --- a trip I'd been dreaming of my entire life, and a trip I took without my husband --- my mind had changed quite a bit. I was feeling a taste of Miss Independent, so we held off for a little longer. Then I started my job as a nanny and boy did that really make me not want to have kids. I had such a bad attitude about it and just didn't know where I was supposed to be. I was experiencing a major "stupor of thought" --- a post-college depression, if you will. What was going to make me happy? Getting a new job? Going to graduate school? Certainly I wasn't ready for a baby....was I?

I was seriously depressed. I got up every day at 5:30 in the morning, went to a job I didn't like, and was exhausted when I came home at 5:30 at night. I didn't have energy or time to make dinner, take care of the house, or be a good friend or wife to my husband.

And then at the end of June, my sister-in-law had her baby boy she was pregnant with when we lived with her for 6 weeks. And, if you remember, a week later he died.

I was surprised at just how much this tore me up. I saw how much love he brought into our entire family, what a sweet, special spirit he is, and my heart just......it just ached. Adam and I flew out to California for the funeral. I stayed for a week longer, just to be with Noe and her family. It was during that week with Noe and away from Adam that in my heart I felt that starting a family would make us happier.

I don't think I could say, "I just knew it was time." It wasn't a pre-destined timeline that God was merely making me aware of and that hit me like a ton of bricks and I just accepted it.  No, it was a definite choice I made in my heart - one I did without wagering many other factors. I didn't think about the sacrifices a baby would mean - less income, less time to myself and Adam, less freedom, etc. All I could think about was all the things I would gain with having a baby: more happiness, more purpose, more love. Sure, I thought about those sacrifices in the weeks following getting pregnant, but I never regretted our decision.

At around week 10, I quit my job, thanks to lovely morning sickness. From then on, I felt so much lighter, my mind so much clearer, so much happier. The stupor of thought I'd been experiencing was lifted and I really, really began to feel like.... myself again.

Of course the decision is uniquely made for each couple and family - and even when you do start trying, no one ever knows how long it will take to actually get pregnant. Which I believe is the Lord's way of saying, Not yet my children, but you will be blessed for your willingness.

I really don't think I can offer any advice....all I have is how it happened for us. I wish I could just say, "Oh you'll know..." but I'm not sure that's true. For us it wasn't a matter of, "Oh we couldn't wait any longer," it was the fact that I didn't want to wait any longer. And when that point happened, things fell into their proper perspective. Thoughts of grad school and a different job faded away, and a joy returned to me that had been missing for awhile.

 Yes there are other things to consider like income and insurance, and ya do your best to get them in place, but they should never be the only factor. Those things dont worry me so much -- the Lord blesses those who follow his commandments.

I do think there will come a point where having a baby is the only thing that will make you happier than you are. And thats the only way i feel you can make this decision without regrets - if you know you made the choice you made because it ultimately made you and your husband happy. You are young (though age doesnt matter much either) so you do have a lot of time on your hands....IF you want it.
And even if you do start school or get a permanent job or still live with your in laws....plans can change. :)

I hope this helped or at least gave you something to think about!


and of course you can and should pray, but i think its a rare case when Heavenly Father tells righteous couples to wait on kids :)



What about you guys? How did you know it was time to add a little one to your family? And now what I am really curious about is, for you second-time mommies (or third or fourth or whatever number you're on) how do you know when it's time to add a sibling?

Growing pains

I almost titled this post something along the lines of "The Pains of Letting Him Grow"....but I realized that there was no "letting" involved - I simply do not have any say in the matter of my son getting older. I cannot stop time, I cannot bottle his infancy, and I will not always be the center of his universe, try as I might. So instead I deal with it - him growing, and all. But sometimes it hurts.

Like that night in Idaho when my mom wanted to sleep with Axton. She knew we were leaving soon and she wanted to get as much snuggles in as she could. Fine, I said. I don't mind, I said. Maybe I will actually get some sleep tonight, I said..

So she laid with him on mattress, and I turned and walked away. The first few steps were easy, and I had high hopes for the night. But that hallway to my bedroom was a mile long and soon the skip in my step was slowing. When I reached my doorway, the darkness and silence that hit me was overwhelming. My room was empty. There would be no soft presence in the bassinet next to my bed, there would be no sleepy sounds of a tiny body to lull me to sleep. No one and nothing waited for me in that room.

And then I cried.

I was not ready for that. I was not ready to be done with him sleeping right next to me, even if for just one night. Even if it meant I would get a longer stretch of sleep than 5 hours for the first time in 3 months. I knew that that time would come soon enough, and I was going to enjoy him next to me for as long as I could. So I turned around and walked back down that mile-long hallway, tapped on my mom's shoulder, and told her to either scoot over or to pick up Axton and come with me to my room.

I never realize how much he means to me until his presence his questioned, and then it's like my body momentarily experiences death - a ripping apart of the heart and a cessation of breathing.

Or how about our first night in Minnesota? They had a crib - but those are for big boys! - not a bassinet. And that crib was not right next to my blow up mattress. No, it was totally on the other side of the room. Well, this won't work too well. Too far, I said. I've got to get up and feed him! And then Axton started fussing a bit in his crib and I walked over and picked him up and as I did I said these words,

"Oh, Axton, you want to sleep with Mommy, don't you?"

As the words hit my ears I knew.

I knew it had nothing to do with Axton wanting to sleep with me, and everything to do with me wanting to sleep with Axton. As I realized this, I shut my eyes, swallowed the lump in my throat, kissed his already-asleep little eyes, laid him back down in his crib, and walked weakly to my own, cold bed.


And now that we are home and he is back in his bassinet right next to me, I am still just a little sad because tonight, for the first night, he is sleeping unswaddled. He's slowly been resisting it more and more lately, and I've been resisting his resisting. A silly thing, really. But it means he is no longer a newborn, needing to be cozy and wrapped and secured. He is a baby and he wants to stretch and suck his fingers and have a blankey simply laid across him. And just that small thing....well, it sends my throat into a frenzy and I have to swallow that lump again.

Also, the fact that his legs are so long that when he nurses they are like spaghetti noodles dangling over my belly, onto the bed, and crossing at the feet --- when just a short time ago they used to curl so tightly against me, his toes barely past my belly button.

He is conscious of liking something and knowing how to get it - that fact that that process is even working in his brain already astonishes me. He makes his Lifting Weights Face when he wants to sit up and look around, when he never even used to know what sitting up meant. He cries when I take him out of his swing too soon because he wasn't done watching the mobile spinning in circles, when not long ago he couldn't even see them.

                                          .................................................................


My husband asked me tonight if I liked being a mom. It hardly seemed a question to me - my immediate, instant answer: Yes. I love it.




Ask me if it's easy, and I will tell you No.
Ask me if I miss my sleep, my personal time, my patience, my old body, and I will say, Heck yes I do.
Ask me if, sometimes, do I just need a break? And I will say Yes, wanna watch my kid for an hour?

But when you ask me if I like being a mom, my answer will always be, forever more, Yes, yes, yes. It is my calling, it is my dream, it is my life, it is my heart and soul. It is the most painful and most amazing journey I could have ever chosen to embark on.

And tonight I cling to the fact that he still sleepily smiles as he is falling asleep, my breast still at his lip and his hand clutching a fistful of my shirt.

Good night, my love. My baby forever.

On eating my placenta

.....That got your attention, didn't it?








Well, it's true.


I did - and occasionally still do - consume my placenta. Not in the raw, bloody, chewy form - but in a simple, dehydrated, powder form (though if you're interested, I've seen many a recipe on the internet for cooking with your placenta! Extra yum!)


I haven't told too many people this, for obvious reasons. But I finally decided it didn't really matter who knew and perhaps someone reading this would find it at least interesting. I don't think it's a very controversial issue - either you think it's disgusting or you see the benefits in it. If you don't know the benefits, keep reading. I'll get there. And if you're among the people who think it's absolutely revolting, then you can say what you want to yourself and skip reading the rest of this while you try not to gag. It's okay - I understand. I get a little grossed out myself if I think about it too much.


We were first introduced to the idea during my Hypnobirthing class. A doula came in and chatted with us about the benefits of placentophagy, and then proceeded to offer her services to the class. She would come into your home and dehydrate your placenta with some special herbs and then encapsulate them for you to easily (and tastelessly!) consume. 


When we got back out to the car, Adam asked me if I wanted to do it. I was surprised - I had thought it was interesting, but hadn't really considered actually doing it until he asked me about it. It seemed just a touch too granola for me. But then we started talking about it and doing more of our own research online and I decided I wanted to try it --- only we were going to dehydrate my placenta on our own. 


As it turned out, there was no "we" in the process - Adam, fabulous as he is, did ALL the work for me. This involved placing my placenta in a ice-filled cooler as we left the birth center, putting it in the freezer until he could get to it, thawing it, cleaning it, cutting it up and blending it. When it was in pureed form, he poured it onto a flat cookie sheet with parchment paper underneath. Then he put it into our oven at the lowest temperature possible so that it would slowly dry out rather than cook. After it was dried, he cut it up into small strips and blended it in a food processor. It was now in powder form! He did all of that - and it didn't even come from his own body!


At this point we didn't have any empty capsules, so for the first two weeks I would simply throw a spoonful of powder into a berry smoothie every morning for breakfast. The powder has a pretty strong smell, so I tried not to breathe in whenever I got it out. There was also a slight earthy taste added to my shake when I used it. Once I even tried just adding water and drinking it quickly, like taking a shot. Once. Never again. Eventually I got sick of smoothies everyday so we bought empty capsules and that was a lot easier. 





So, what are the benefits of consuming your own placenta? Increased energy, increased milk supply, a mood-booster, and replenishing your iron supply after losing so much blood, to name a few. The number one reason I decided to try it was that I was worried about postpartum depression. For those of you who haven't noticed yet, I'm a pretty emotional person, so I was willing to try something that claimed it would help with baby blues. 

Did it work for me? Well, never having had a baby before this, I don't have much to compare it to. However, I really believe it did affect me - especially my milk supply. I was overproducing like crazy - to the point where poor Axton would sometimes have milk coming out his nose. It was just too much for him to handle. I stopped taking the pills for a week or so to see if it would help tone things down a notch and it really did. Things got under control and I started taking it again, just less. I also think it did help with regulating my hormones and emotions. Sometimes, on emotional days, Adam would ask me if I had taken my Placenta Pills that day and usually I had not.

I will definitely do this again with my next child - I don't want to take any chances. In my opinion, it can only help, so why not? If you struggle with milk supply or postpartum depression, I would recommend looking into this to see if it might be something you would be interested in trying.

Here is video that goes into further details about how and why placentophagy is beneficial.

And another personal account of a woman who tried placenta encapsulation after her third birth: http://www.passionatehomemaking.com/2011/10/the-benefits-of-placenta-encapsulation-for-postpartum-healing.html


If you have any questions for me, I'd be happy to answer them. As always, I hope we can be mature adults and leave only kind comments!

The EYE Story

Tomorrow I leave Idaho to go visit my Dad in Minnesota. I'll write a post about that someday soon, but for now I want to tell a different story. I will be flying out of Jackson Hole, and Jackson Hole always reminds me of one thing:

The EYE Story.

Some of you know this story. Some of you might have seen pictures on Facebook. And some of you probably have no idea what I'm talking about. But I still suggest everyone read on, because it's a pretty crazy one.

So from the age of 12 on, I spent the school year with Mom in Idaho and the summer with Dad in Minnesota. The summer after I graduated from high school, my dad picked me up in Idaho and we took a road trip back to Minny. We went hiking in the mountains and then camped in Jackson Hole.

La la la, having such a good time.

That  night we were staying in a little cabin, so no way could I talk to my then boyfriend in that tiny cabin with my dad. I took a little walk outside to chit chat with him. Part way through the phone conversation, I felt my eye starting to itch. Well gol darn it, I'd gotten a bug bite. This was nothing new - I was always the first - and worst - one to get bitten by mosquitoes. But when I got off the phone, I felt my eye and noticed it was just a tad swollen. I took a picture of it to see how bad it was.

Well, gee whiz, it was quite swollen! Sad.

I thought, Oh well. It will be better in the morning. 

Yeah right.

I woke up to my eye completely swollen shut!

This one is almost cute. Almost.

Oh and this one? Well, it was colder than I was anticipating so I had to wear all my clothes to keep warm.

I'll be the first to admit that I thought it was pretty funny. 

But then it got worse. And then I thought it was really funny. Except for the small voice in the back of my head that kept asking, "What if it just keeps swelling and eventually my eyelid actually BURSTS from all the pressure?" 

Shiny.

Did I mention that this happened the day we were supposed to go white-water rafting?

Well, it did. I was a one-eyed monster on the one day that both eyes would have been pretty handy. We decided we should probably get some medicine for me, so we picked up some Benadryl at the store. I wore my sunglasses until the very end, when I wanted to freak the cash register out. 

Now I was not only one-eyed, but pretty drowsy from the meds. But on I went! And I didn't fall out of my raft, not even once.

After white-water rafting - the Eye slowing beginning to deflate.

It took quite a few days, but eventually my eye began to heal.

And that's my eye story. Lesson learned? Talk to your boyfriend inside the cabin. Or, for heaven's sake, wear bug spray!!!

Jackson Hole, here I come!