Chapter Three: "He's There, just Out of Reach"

Last night we slept in real beds. It is amazing the things you take for granted. It was amazing to have pillows and blankets and get to sleep next to Blair. We so needed the time to be together, alone.

Blair is so patient with me. I don't understand how he is handling this so well, even though he assures me he's not really. I had a good friend remind me that when your milk comes in, there is a chance that your hormones might shift and cause you to be a little weepy. Oh yes, this is true. Blair has seen me cry about many things. Most of the time it's not even about Deano. I cried the other night because I bought him the wrong thing from the cafeteria for dinner.

I cried last night at four AM because I didn't have my babies.

Blair's Mom, who came from India to be here for us, brought Ellie to see us yesterday. I came out of a shower and there was my girl. My beautiful, healthy, running, toddling girl. So precious. And talking so much! Oh my heart! Oh my darling daughter!

I don't think anyone can fathom the guilt I feel not having either of my babies to put to bed. Can't know how excited I was to change Ellie's diaper (and it was even a messy one!) yesterday.

I have a newborn baby. And I got a good nights rest. I was up to pump, but I still got good rest. This is practically unheard of for a momma with a newborn!

My heart aches to have my children with me. When we stopped at our house to pick things up yesterday, I looked at the corner where his pack and play should be set up (it's not yet), and his dresser, and all the amazing things people have made for him and yes, I cried. I want them home with me. I want my babies.

I told Blair this morning it almost feels like we're on a surreal vacation, because we get to sleep so much, and don't have to lug Ellie's things all over, and I'm not constantly nursing our son.

But I wish I was.

All of my very soul wishes for my babies, I can't say it enough. I'm a Momma without her babies right now...I feel misplaced in the world.

I walk slowly still, recovering from his birth. I wonder what people must think of me, this slow woman walking to and from her car in the hospital. I want to shout and scream, "I just had a baby!"

As much as this is Deano's story, it's Ellie's too. My girl is spending so much time away from me. Oh Lord do I miss her. All the sudden she looks so big...Dc Children's Hospital has this little bear called Dr.Bear, it's their mascot. She loves him. All through out the hospital she pointed to them and said "Da Bears! Da Bears!" She was enamored with them. I held her up in a window and we looked and looked at them. I can't wait to see her be a big sister. It hurts me deeply that she didn't get to come see Deano before his surgery. I'm grateful that they were able to get it done quickly and successfully, but I wanted her to just see her "baby". Just once. And yes, it's out of fear that it might be the only time.

We aren't out of the woods yet. I celebrate each moment. Every day since Monday I wake up thinking "Thank you Father, for this day." Friday I kissed Blair good morning and said "We made it one more day. One more day."

Time has never felt so precious. We are living in the moment in an amazing way. Accepting enough Grace for the day. Thankful for the new mercies. Thankful for the prayers. Thankful for the love. Thankful for my family, for Blair's family, for the people who love us, my sister friends, and Blair's brother in arms. There are people across this country praying for my son, right this very moment.

How humbling. To be so loved. Whoah. Today one of the Elders from our Church drove out to DC to just see how Blair and I were doing, to pray with us. Just because he woke up thinking about us.

Writing this post, there are more tears.

I've gotten a lot of feedback about writing and sharing his story. I have to. I process things this way. And if my story and Deano's story can help others, why would I not? Look I've met so many other HLHS Momma's. Ones who have gone through this, are going through it, or have yet to go through it. My heart hurts for each and every one of us. My heart is angry at the sin in this world that has caused such pain and heartache. I am constantly reminding myself of God's sovereignty and His Great Love for us. I am constantly reminding myself that this is breaking God's heart too.

It feels like my babies are here, just so far out of my reach. My mama heart wants to do so much more for them, both of them. Especially for my beautiful swollen baby boy.

I have to remind myself, minute by minute, that if they are out of my reach, if I am unable to get to them the way I want to, they are not, nor will they ever be, out of God's reach.

So snuggle your babies, your children, close. Call them up please, tell them that you love them. Treasure the moments that are hard, that are difficult. Drop everything for them, please, if not for yourselves, do it for me. Do it for my Ellie girl who is being spoiled by Mimi, and for my Son who can't be held by me just yet.

When you go to sleep tonight, remember your children are held by the Ultimate Father. Remember that you are held by Him as well. Remember you are His Child and His heart is for you.

Remember no one is out of His reach.

Chapter One: "But I Can't Keep Him Safe Out Here"

It somehow didn't occur to me that I would go into labor on my own with baby Dean. In my head, we had a plan and by golly we were going to stick to that plan.

By golly we did NOT stick to that plan.

To tell Dean's birth story we have to back up to a snow storm that postponed a Dinner Theater I helped direct/Write/throw together as a fundraiser for my little sisters. When we picked a new date because of the snow, I knew we were cutting it awfully close to my induction date.

We also have to talk about one of the best woman I've had the privilege of knowing: Stephanie Conley. We all knew she was sick, that God was calling her home, none of us knew when. God knew. The Monday after my Card Shower, she got to go home to the Lord. I was so thankful I had the week of work off to grieve and be there for her kids, who are practically like family to me.

That Friday we had our Dinner Theater. It was great. Exhausting at 28 weeks 5 days pregnant, but it was awesome. I was so glad I was able to help my sisters. That Saturday, I was able to go to Stephanie's Celebration of Life. I got to play with her Grandson. I got to hug her kids. I got to cry as I heard stories about her children eating breakfast together after she'd gone home to Jesus. It was beautiful. I wore an actual dress, she would have loved it, would have been so proud of me for looking like a girl with no paint on me anywhere!

These events are important, because when I woke up Sunday morning, I felt off. Uncomfortable. I went to Church (also keep in mind Blair had been at Drill that Saturday and most of Sunday, because you know, stuff always happens when he's at Drill) and tried to sit still, but I couldn't. My lower back just...hurt. I knew this could be a sign of labor, but was nervous to say much to anyone. My mom, however, I think she knew something was up. I was greeted by people, given some amazing Cinnamon Rolls and a red hat for my boy, and was prayed over by the Elders of our Church, joined by my parents and Blair's Father.

I could spend so much time just on that alone...how powerful that room felt...how the very presence of the Lord was there...I feel like that's a whole other blog post though. Maybe one day. :)

By the end of Sunday School I was uncomfortable. Ellie went home with my parents, Abbie came with me to get our stuff "just in case" and by two thirty I was at my parents house, and I was feeling contractions. Blair's unit was able to be released early and he was on his way to get his things and to come to my parents house. I jumped in the shower because the back labor was really starting to make me VERY uncomfortable. Blair got there, and we timed a few contractions while my dad watched the Superbowl game and my mom made food. Around five thirty we decided that maybe we should go to DC.

I was nervous about going in. Mainly because with Ellie, I had a lot of back and forth labor and it just took a while for my body to kick it into gear. My mom and Blair were very encouraging, and Blair was adamant that we go get checked there. My dad and Blair and Mom packed up, we called Ellie's "Uncle Jon and Aunt Kackie" to let them know she needed to be picked up, and away we went.

When we got to the hospital, they checked me and I was at 3 CM. I walked around the hallways for what seemed like forever with my mom and Blair. His Dad and my Dad watched the Superbowl Game in the waiting room. Dean was more excited than I've ever seen him, and my Dad was worried about me and the baby.

Through all this, the entire thing, my Daddy has been my Daddy. It's amazing to his love for me, our son, and Blair. To know that this is a reflection of our Heavenly Father's heart for us. This could also be a whole other blog post.

I went back to be checked around ten, had dilated to a four, so I was admitted, once again, to be on the safe side.

There was blood pressure taken, heart monitors put on him, contraction monitors put on me, blood drawn and BOOM. It was time, apparently, for me to labor.

All night the nurses kept asking me if I felt the contractions, the answer was always no. I had a lot fo back pain, but I was able to get some rest, ONCE we were able to monitor babies heart beat.

Let me tell you, this boy is a stinker. All I wanted was to lay on my side and go to sleep! Every time I did we would lose his heart beat and the nurses would have to come in and mess with me until they found it again. I was uncomfortable for a lot of the night. We had one nurse who FINALLY found his heart beat while I was on my side and then there was sweet sweet rest. Thank you Jesus!

I continued to have contractions I couldn't really feel and continued to dilate all morning. I spent a lot of time on Facebook being goofy and a lot of time texting other people. Quite frankly, for a while, I was bored. I watched movies and listened to music. Blair played a lot on his computer. We chilled.

Around ten, I stopped making progress on my own. We were given the option of using Pictocin. After talking to Blair and my Mom, we went for it.

While we waited for them to get it all set up, I had a few moments. All the sudden, this was real, all the sudden we were going to be serious about getting him out. All the sudden things were out of my "control" and he would be on the outside...where I can't keep him safe. I wasn't ready, I told my Mom, I wasn't ready. I cried. She came and hugged me and we prayed and Blair held my hand. I took a deep breathe, we began the pict and so began the hardest labor of the two I've had.

Pictocin is brutal. At first I thought, ok, I can handle this. Ok, this isn't so bad. Ok, this is doable. It helped me dilate, I felt more contractions, everything was going well. I had a lot of friends praying for me because they knew how important it was for me, personally, to have a vaginal birth with little to no intervention. Around two, after some good laboring,my pict level was at 10 and we had the option to break my water.

We broke my water.

And it felt like all hell broke lose.

I stopped being able to breathe through contractions. I felt baby boy move down and the doctors even told me that he was. (I did not need to be told, I felt it, I promise!) The pictocin made my contractions fast and STRONG. With Ellie, I had a build up. I would get cold and then as I got warmer I knew a contraction was coming and could mentally prepare my mind. With the pict contractions, they just WERE. I had no build up. I clung to my mom and Blair. I didn't want them to leave my side. I was checked, was dilated to about a six/seven and told to labor through those contractions to bring baby boy down more.

It hurt. It hurt like hell. It was brutal. I thought, there is no way I can do this this way. I can't even relax between contractions, I felt like I couldn't breathe. If Blair or my mom were not holding my hand during those contractions I felt lost.

I begged them to make it stop. Around three I thought I just couldn't make it through. I begged them and begged them to help. Blair held my hand the entire time and told me to look in his eyes while I contracted. I remember thinking how handsome his eyes were, and remember the smile on his face as he would tell me good job. I also remember snapping at him at one point when he told me to stop fighting the contractions. I very loudly told him I wasn't fighting. He didn't take it personally. I love him so much.

My mom also held my hand. She kept telling me how wonderfully I was doing, that I was the only one who could bring him here. She helped me relax my shoulders and my forehead, taking the tension away from those areas and getting me to focus on bringing baby down. I kept telling them I couldn't do this, I couldn't do this, that it hurt, it was different, that I couldn't do it.

I remember this utter feeling of helplessness and hopelessness and feeling like this labor would last forever. I tried to talk to the Lord, to call on Him, but I just couldn't. I tried to tell Blair to talk to Jesus, I remember telling him to ask Jesus to help me through. I could see in Blair's eyes the prayers he offered up for me.

I would have gotten an epidural if not for my mom and Blair. I begged for it, Blair knew that's what I was asking for. At one point he said to me "Maddie, you don't want that. If you get that, you won't feel him the same way you felt Ellie and you loved feeling Ellie. You can do this." If he hadn't reminded me...well, who knows? I did ask for the laughing gas though, and was so mad when it felt like it took them too long to get it to me.

I ended up not even being able to use it. It freaked me out too much. I would have contractions and put the mask on my face and try to suck it in and couldn't. I felt like I was suffocating. It scared me more than it helped me. I think this was close to four.

By four, I felt pressure and I was just so so so done. I bore down a little, felt him move, and yelled for my mom and Blair to bring the doctor's in. When she went to check me she told me she felt a little cervical lip. She pushed it back and that was it. I felt him move down. I knew I wanted to push. So I did.

Oh Lord have mercy the confusion and drama! Ha! She was yelling for the other nurses to get the babies doctors and telling to stop pushing. There was no way I could not not push! But I did! Normally, I probably would have been like, Nope! I'm pushing. But for my son...I knew my son needed those doctors. So I breathed hard. I looked at Blair at my mom. I did what I could, but it got to a point where I couldn't hold back anymore. I felt him crown, the doctor was literally holding him in, I was yelling, people were running every which way and she said GO! Push! I pushed.

Not for long though. I think I gave one or two good pushes and I felt my son come into this world. And to my amazement and delight, they laid him on me. And oh was he beautiful.

And oh was I terrified.

With Ellie, we had a good 30 minuted together, she laid on my chest, she latched on. My son was there mere minutes before they needed to evaluate him. Blair went to the corner with him, my mom held my hand while I was shaking and crying. I could hear him cry. They were checking for tears and reminding me to deliver the placenta. I bore down and it came out with no issues. The next thing I know I hear "Let his Momma hold him."

I was preparing my heart to not be able to hold him after his birth. I was preparing to hear the worst.

God gave me the best.

My son wrapped up in a blanket in my arms, I got to kiss his face and tell him I loved him and stroke his cheek. He calmed at the sound of my voice and oh oh oh he was so so so beautiful.

And then they had to take him.

And I cried.

And My Mommy held my hand and told me how brave I was and how beautiful I was and how proud she was.

4:14 pm on Monday, February 8th, weighing 7 pounds 8.8 ounces, here was my son, Dean Blair Jaques, yes, the Fifth.

I said the hardest part was holding him in, but that's not true. After being checked out by the NICU he was prepared to go to Children's Hospital CICU.  They packed him and before he went over, they brought him to see me. 

He was in a big plastic box, there were tubes already in him and oxygen on his nose. And he knew my voice and I got to tell him I loved him and stroke his cheek. Twice.

Twice.

And then, they took my son to another hospital, and I couldn't go with him. 
And this was the hardest thing I have ever done. 
To watch my son leave. 
To not be able to go with him. 

God knows my heart. And He knew there were certain things that I just said "Lord, if you are willing, please let this happen." Every single one of those things happened.

I went into labor on my own and wasn't induced.
I did not have to use cervidal or cytotec to soften my cervix.
I did not have to get an epidural or a c-section.
I was able to hold and kiss my son, twice, after he was born.

Dean's birth story, and his story from now on, is to be told in chapters.
Chapter One, I can't keep him safe out here, but oh oh oh, the Father Can.

So Much Love

38 Weeks.

Belly? Henna'd. Huge. Uncomfortable.

Sleeping? What is that? Does that really happen? Can I roll from the left to the right side? No. If I don't do it fast it doesn't happen and I end up stuck on my back. I am a turtle.

Feeling? Hormonal. There were tears this week about wipes. There was anger at my husband about...well, wipes. And other assorted stupid stupid things.

Blessed?

Yes yes yes.

I feel the prayers. I feel the support. I feel the encouragement. Today I was surrounded by women and friends from my church who just...it was amazing. It made it all the more sweet that two of the people who made it happen have been going through some difficult things themselves. They still took the time to make this Card shower come together. Oh the sweetness.

I said it with Ellie, and I'll say it with baby Dean, I feel like Mary, treasuring all these things in my heart. The women who hug me gently and let me know they are praying. The ones who smile at me in church and tell me that me posting about my babies, ALL my babies, made them cry. The texts, the emails, the cards, the understanding. The offers to watch Ellie. The people who are coming home.

I am overwhelmed.

I am humbled.

We might not have to buy gas for the entire month of February. Wow.

We have money for food, groceries and elsewhere. Wow.

I have a book of support, prayers and verses (and some other pretty hysterical notes to make me laugh, hashtag whodidthat?). I have pictures. Ellie ended up with a bear (not intended for her) that she has been toting around and loving on. We have the most amazing artwork of the Tin Man for baby Dean's corner of the room. All the sudden, I really want to set up "his" space so that I can look at all the beautiful things meant for him.

Oh we are just...ready now. I'm ready for him to be here. I'm ready to hold him, I'm ready to fight, I'm ready to find out how God is going to use this little dude and his story for so many amazing things. I'm also very very ready to NOT be pregnant any more (seriously, the random projectile vomiting has got to go, I'm over it!).

From the very depth of my soul, to the people far and wide who are praying for us, I cannot begin to tell you how much you mean to me. I was telling a friend that we just don't know how well baby boy will do and she said "But Maddie, a lot of those other babies, while I'm sure they're loved, they may not have the power of prayer behind them like this baby does." It's true. So much power. So many good thoughts. So much love.

So much love.

What a wonderful way to end a hard week.

What a wonderful feeling to wrap myself in and dream of.

No News Is Good News

Thanks for all the love, support, calls, and texts today.

Basically, no news is good news. Our boy's heart looks pretty much the same as it did last month, which is actually good! It means there are no new complications and we can keep him baking in there for a while yet!

We are scheduled to be induced in DC February Ninth and are looking forward to seeing our son (I'm really hoping he has his Daddy's dimples!). Until then, I still go see lots of doctors to keep an eye on him and me.

There have been a multitude of people who have helped watch our Ellie girl while we were at appointments, and I can't even begin to tell you how much that means to us both. The prayers, listening ears, and hope that are thrown our way sure make this easier to deal with.

The closer we come to having him in the outside world, the more nervous I become I must confess. There are still a lot of unknowns. There are still a lot of risks. He's still my baby boy. I beg for patience and understanding, especially if I don't return phone calls or texts right away.

We are pretty tired tonight (as are my parents I imagine, who made the trip out to DC with Blair and I...which means more than either of them will ever know), so I this is probably all I'll say before drinking some warm tea and passing WAY out.

There are many blessings in this storm we are weathering (like he fact that we will be able to see Blair's Dad before baby comes, with the possibility that he might get to meet his grandson!) and we are sure to count them.

Regular pregnancy is certainly starting to takes it toll on this Momma too. I am BEAT by the end of the day. Our boy is getting bigger and bigger (he gained an estimated pound from last week to this week..I need more protein and less chocolate!) and rolling from side to side gets harder and harder.

We have around 20 days until we get to meet this guy, and THAT is when our REAL battle begins.

What I Pray For

Many people will not like what I'm about to say.

Please bare with me and wait until the end.

Please keep in mind this is my personal blog, and I am writing to share/process this journey.

Please be kind.

I am not praying for God to miraculously heal my son. I am not praying that when he is born he will not need surgeries and that his heart will be healed. 

You may pray for these things if you'd like, but please, refrain from telling me you are doing so.

I promise you, I have reasons.

I believe that God is big. Bigger than you or I could ever imagine. I believe that if He wanted to, He COULD heal my son, in a heart beat (no pun intended there). I believe that God raised people from the dead, healed them by His touch, cured the diseased, and made the blind see. I believe He is the same God today that He was then, and if He wanted to, He could do whatever He wanted.

For some reason (one I may never know) He has chosen my son, our son, to have a heart condition. One that really won't ever be truly cured unless there are major advances in medical science (totally possible! Please pray for that!) or by a completely new heart.

Every month, a lot of times two or three times a month, I go to a Doctor's office, lay on a table, get some goo put on me and they check on his heart. I lay there uncomfortably and see exactly what the doctors are talking about. Half of my sons heart doesn't work. I see this. Every. Single. Month.

When I went in December, maybe...to be truthful, I was hoping that the ultrasound they showed would be wrong. I was hoping I could get in the car and call about five million people and say "See, look, God HAS healed him!"

But this is not what God did. This is not my sons story.

There are lots of people praying for miracles. Lots of people who have loved ones going through terrible battles who would love to see God's hand in their lives...in the way they WANT to see God's hand.

I am...am asking a lot of God right now. I am asking for strength, and patience. I am asking for Joy in the middle of what could possible be something terrifying. I am asking for Guidance, to do the right things as we go to have our son and as he prepares for his surgery. I am asking that no matter what I keep my eyes and heart focused on this Big God who has chosen us and my son to do Big things.

But I do not need to ask God to miraculously heal him. Because maybe to God that means my son goes to Heaven before I do. Maybe to God, THIS is our miracle, that we get to draw deeper and deeper to Him in this, our time of utter dependence on Him.

I am praying for God's Will to be evident in our lives and in our sons life, and that We, as a Husband and Wife, as a Mother and Father, glorify Him, no matter what the outcome, no matter how hard, no matter what.

If my son is born and they find out that his heart is fine, Praise God.

If my son is born and whisked away because half his heart doesn't work, Praise God.

If my son doesn't survive birth, Praise God.

If my son doesn't survive the first, second, third surgery, Praise God.

If my son survives and thrives for 20 years and developed complications later, Praise God.

It is easy to say these things now, hard as they may be, but it will so much harder to live them out. Please...please pray that We glorify God in this situation. Please...please pray for the Doctors and Nurses that will be taking care of our son. Please...please pray for the other families who just spent Christmas and New Years in the Hospital, praying that their child's numbers get good enough to come home. Please pray that Blair and I have the opportunity to pour Hope into other families facing the same challenges. Please pray that God's Will be evident and that we accept it with Grace and Beauty. Please pray that we rely on the Lord and the amazing Support that we have had during this time. Please pray that my emotions stay in check when they induce me, that the Lord give me a Spirit of Strength and Hope, that I do not fear. Please Pray for Blair as he misses work, and tries to take care of me, Ellie, and our Son. Please pray that Ellie have such a grand time with others that she doesn't realize how long Mommy has been gone. Please pray that the she is taken care of so well that I don't even have a second to worry about her. Please pray for our own hearts, as we see our child hooked up to tubes, with a scar down his chest. Please pray that we budget well, that our finances stay secure while we are in the hospital.

Please Praise God with us, that we have had our son as long as we have had him. Praise God that we have seen an out pouring of love and support.

Life, in and of itself, however God chooses to bring it, is a Miracle.

We don't need one my friends, we already have one.

Thank you.

Labor of Love: One Week Out

I’m thinking that it will take me a very long time to type out the story of Ellie’s birth. It’s really her story.  It’s a beautiful story. I love it, I love everything about it. You know why? Because at the end of it, there is a beautiful baby girl, one who is lying next to me in a pink blanket with little whales on it.

Ellie’s birth story starts on a Tuesday, June 17, the day I was supposed to go to my last day at work before leave. Instead, that morning I called and said that there was a chance I might be in labor and that it would probably be best if I didn’t go in that day. I made the right choice. I won’t go over all the details, because I’ve already talked about all that. As embarrassing as it was to have to send my midwife and birth team home not once but twice, I think this is where I mentally, took a turn for the worse.

Thursday and Friday I did everything and anything to take my mind off of the fact that this week I’d had those contractions and that it had all happened. I was trying to remind myself that labor takes a long time that it could still be weeks before I actually had my baby, that it was all good. I went for walks, I played in the pool, ate talked laughed, hung out with friends. I tried very hard to tell myself that she was not coming this week, that it would take a long time that I needed to be patient. I prayed. I hung out. I felt huge. I felt like I was on the edge of something that I couldn’t explain.

So. Saturday. I woke up a little while after Blair left for work and sat on the edge of the bed. I got up, used the bathroom, came back, and there was this wet mark on the bed. And I thought to myself “I’m pretty sure I didn’t wet the bed…” I knew that this could be my water, but was unsure. And I didn’t want to sound the alarm again without it being the real deal (this would be a common theme throughout the day, and I believe some part of the reason we ended up transferring, but we’ll get to that). I took a walk with my mother in law, found out my best friend in Va Beach who was ALSO VERY pregnant was being induced, and walked back home. Once we got back home, I started to pray for my friend, and tried desperately to ignore the contractions.

I couldn’t ignore them anymore. My wonderful mother in law helped me upstairs, made sure I was ok, I called Blair, and my mom and asked them to come. I did NOT want to call my midwife yet though. I did not want to call the fairy godmother. I felt like people had already been here so much that I didn’t want them to come unless, you know, my body was truly in labor.

When Blair came home, and my mom got here, they made the choice to call my midwife. She was on her way. We called the fairy godmother. We walked, and stood, and rocked, and the contractions got closer and stronger and more intense. By late that evening, I really truly felt like my body was ready to push. We began trying different positions that encouraged baby to head down. We worked at this for what seemed like a long time to me. I was getting so tired. And I was so ready to meet our girl.

But. Around nine (I think? I could be wrong, time stopped working for me after a while) we took a break and did a vaginal check to see where I was. What this check told us was very revealing.

I was still only 5 centimeters. I was not dilated enough for pushing to do much. And this is where my story goes from “home to hospital.”

We were given options. Go now just to make sure baby and I were alright or go to sleep and see what happens in the morning. Everyone left the room and I looked at Blair. I still wasn’t sure what we should do. We prayed together and decided to go to bed. Ameh left, the midwives left, and my mom went to sleep out on the couch (she said couldn’t leave). Before leaving, my midwife prayed with me and gave me some Benadryl to help me sleep.

I couldn’t sleep though. Normally that stuff knocks me out (ask Teri from camp…I had some once while we were out craft shopping…it was very special) but this time, it didn’t. I was up all the time because of contractions and they hurt. I would get up with them, pee, come back, try to sleep, I would try to be quiet through them, but would always whimper and wake Blair up. He tried to help, applied counter pressure in my back, but absolutely nothing helped.

At this point, mentally, I was a little out of it. I had called people there, sent them away, labored, bore down, changed positions, all of it. But as far as I knew, I was still only at five, and no one could explain why that was. So…sad to say, I kinda freaked out. That last time, I woke Blair up and said “We need to go, we need to go now.” He called the midwife to let her know, I started to pack things, realizing I had NO idea what you needed to bring to a hospital. I went out to ask my mom, and out there with her, I cried. I didn’t understand why my contractions weren’t doing anything, I didn’t understand what was taking so long, and I was convinced something was wrong with my baby.

I threw stuff in a bag and off we went. We followed behind my mom who, according to my husband, did not go the right way and drove to slow. While in the car, I had these intense contractions…I would roll down the window and try to remember to breathe. Blair was my rock. He told me that no matter what, all that mattered was Ellie and I were ok.

Once we were at the ER, I was wheeled back to labor and delivery. They had already been informed of my situation and they gave me a gown and asked to do a cervical check. When they checked me, I was at 7 cm. Every now and again I give Blair these “What in the world faces?” and I know at that point I gave him one. I did NOT think that anything had happened, in my panicked brain, nothing would have happened. So, they admitted me.

I have to say, the people at the hospital were amazing. They listened so well to everything that I wanted. I basically had the same kind of birth I would have had at home, the only difference was that they broke my water around four am, I believe.

Labor picked up hardcore for me after that. And even allowing them to break my water was a huge leap of Faith for me. I had always intended to let things happen naturally. When they asked if they could, I looked to my husband and my mom for their strength to make a choice, and they loaned it to me. I held their hands while it happened, asking Blair with my eyes if we were doing the right thing. I know it does not seem like much, to allow someone to break your water, but for me, as I said, leap of faith. He really comforted me, told me that we had done the right thing.

We had. After that, it was like my body kick started. Even though I was so so so tired, I knew that she was coming soon, this time for real. I could feel the contractions build, could feel myself getting ready. I knew that the work was just beginning. Right before a contraction I would get really cold and pull the covers up, but then I would get hot with the contractions and throw them off! I held Blair’s hands and my mom’s, if either of them left me, I called them back. In between, I let my body go limp and I would sleep for however long I could.

I’m not sure when things changed or how they changed, but they did. And I was ready. I would wake up and bellow through contractions. I’m not sure how much time the doctor had to actually get “Set up” I know I didn’t want to wait for her though. I did what my body was telling me to do, I pushed. It was intense.

I felt her. I felt her move through my body, I felt her crown, I felt her head pass through, and I felt her slide between my legs and the next thing I know there is this tiny human right on my chest in all her grossness. It was beautiful and wonderful and everything I ever wanted.

I don’t remember a lot of things, which is why I’m glad Ameh was there taking pictures. I remember feeling like there was no way I could make this happen. I remember being at home lying in bed begging God to help me. I remember looking at Blair and seeing strength there. And I remember this incredible sense of euphoria when she was there on my chest. This beautiful beautiful baby…our gift for just a little while.

God is good. I know I said that. I know I thanked him. I know I forgot that I still had to push to get my placenta out. Blair reminded me of that a few times. I vaguely saw my mom and Ameh hugging and crying. I kept looking at my baby and then at Blair.

Three years ago…I never would have thought I would be here. I never thought that I would be married, never thought that I would have a daughter (I HAVE A FOR REAL BABY, WHAT!?), I didn’t think that I deserved it. Let me rephrase this, I don’t deserve it. I am blessed. Terribly and wondrously blessed. I am so incredibly thankful for this gift.

Eleanor was 7 pounds 2.5 ounces, 19 ½ inches, she was born at 6:28 AM on June 22, 2014. She is beautiful. She is amazing. She is already incredibly goofy and makes some of the best faces I’ve ever seen.

In the past week I have fallen so deeply in love with her, that I’ve fallen in love with God all over again and with Blair. He comes home from work and we are the first people he has to see. He’s had to work so much…but each night he comes home, no matter how tired he is, he holds his baby. He talks to her, he asks for pictures while he’s away. He is wonderful. He was so strong for me…and even though people have told me I was strong, I didn’t feel that wat though.

It took me a hot minute to be ok with the fact that we transferred. At the time I wasn’t upset about it. Most days I’m not upset about it, the hospital did a great job of making me feel like I was in charge of my daughters birth story. However…I’m sad that Doran didn’t get to greet Ellie first thing, it was stressful thinking about how we are going to pay that bill, and it wasn’t what I wanted. But what I want and what I actually get are different things, and I got my precious baby girl. Transferring, this time, was the right thing for me. Mentally, I think it helped me let a lot. I would still want a home birth; it’s a dream that I am going to fulfill one day. I know this. In reality I don’t feel that I failed or did something wrong. I did what I thought I needed to do for me and my baby.

She’s here in my lap right now. Snoozing away. Being perfect. Being wonderful. Just being.

I’m amazed at what God has done in our lives. I’m amazed at this little girl. And in the past week, I have come to know what a mother’s fierce love is. And she’s beautiful. She’s just absolutely beautiful. 

Care With A Midwife

Recently, I've received a lot of questions about what Midwife care looks like. How it works, what happens when I go, that sort of thing. So I decided to take a small visual journey and show you all how my midwife works (with her permission of course! She loves my blog...:) )

I once wrote a post about how I got to take pictures and witness a birth, and I wrote about how awesome it was. I would link you to it, but internet here is not so fun, plus there's a storm. My midwife was the midwife that attended and helped that Momma in her journey. I loved watching her work. It was exciting and I agreed and loved all the choices she made for that Momma. I knew that one day, hopefully, Lord Willing, I would have her as my midwife.

Well, the Lord was willing, even last June when we found out we were pregnant the first time. Doran saw me through one of the worst times in my life. She sent me encouragement and love, and that is something that I will forever be thankful for. When we found out we were pregnant the second time, I felt that I could confess my fears to her without being judged. When I got sick and couldn't eat, she was nothing but loving and encouraging through that as well.

Me at our 38 week appointment! 

Doran is a CPM, Certified Professional Midwife and her practice is called Blessings Gods Way. She works out of Strasburg Virginia and has an adorable yellow cottage where she serves woman. Her website is incredible and can explain a lot of the questions that anyone might have.

I love visiting her. I love seeing her smiling face, knowing she's not only excited but that she already loves my little one, me, and my husband. Her cottage is warm and inviting and it always smells good.

Every time I visit Doran, I pee in a cup. I take a test strip and test that, and we look at it. The cool thing (for me at least) is that we look at it together. Together.  I like that I got to learn what the colors were telling me. I knew what was happening and I got to take part in it. That's neat.

The next thing we do, is we talk. I sit on her glorious comfy bed provided for us Momma's, and we just chat. How have things been going? How do I feel? Have I been swelling? How much water am I drinking? Do I have any questions? What's going on this week? I ask her about birth stories I've heard, I tell her how my toes only swell rarely and how I drink tons of water. I tell her about my family all coming in for the weekend, and she reminds me that I need to take it easy and rest when I'm tired. Another neat thing about it all, is that I an bring friends and family. My mother in law, Mommy, and two of my wonderful sister in laws got to come to appointments with me. My very best friend, birth photographer, and Ellie's Godmother were at our 36 week home appointment. Special people who uplift me and love me. 

She records all of my information in charts. 

Her assistant Jodi, they found out about this post and needed to "look like they were doing something", even though they always do!

Usually after chatting for a bit and writing down any information that's needed, they take my blood pressure and check my pulse. I think maybe there was ONE time that I had a high blood pressure, and immediately Doran said "Some one's a little riled up today, everything ok?" She was checking on me. Wanted to know if there was anything going on. At that time, there was, however, this has been resolved and my blood pressure has returned to what it is normally for me.

After those things are all taken care of, we move on to checking my fundal height with our little owl friend.

Fundal height measures how big my uterus is, to make sure that little booger is growing about where she needs to be.

After that is recorded, we listen to Lil Girl! When she's real little, we listen with a Doppler, but as she's bigger now, we listen with a fetal-scope. I love this part, even though my lil girl likes to hide from Doran. It's like she gets shy around her, which is silly, because the woman will be helping Blair catch her.

This part is really neat because once we find her little heartbeat, everyone gets to listen to her, they want. Angela and Karynne, my brother's wives, both got to hear Ellie's heartbeat, even though it can be a little tricky, and Ellie's Meme, my mother in law, got to hear it as well. And of course, I get to hear her as well, which always makes me smile a little.

So that is what an appointment looks like! We spend time together and I love it. I don't feel like it's impersonal or like she doesn't know me. Doran is not only my midwife and a professional, but she's my friend. She makes me feel calm and we have a lot of the same values. She serves the same God I do. That alone makes us sisters in Christ, which means a lot to me.

I've been asked when I'm supposed to call her, as in, what do I do when I go in to labor. Basically, I keep her informed. I've tried very hard to be in tune with my body, and nothing feels like something is too small to tell her. Even the other day I was kinda sorta unsure about something but needed to tell her anyways, and she was perfectly fine with it. Fun fact: I talk with her over Facebook chat. We're facebook friends. It's real life. :)

If my water breaks or my contractions become more intense and consistent, it's time to call her. I let her know about things like my mucus discharge (it happens while you're pregnant, just saying) and how I feel. We talk about lots of things, and sometimes she has to ask me awkward questions that most other people wouldn't ask. My favorite was when my sisters in law WERE at our appointment and she needed to know if um Blair and I...well...if we had happy fun times. It was awesome! But she needed to know, so she asked. We're close like that.

I also have this awesome sheet tacked to one of our bulletin boards called "What to do if Mom needs to push and the midwife isn't there yet". It kinda makes me smile a whole lot. HOPEFULLY and I'm sure this won't happen she'll be there in plenty of time to help me bring Ellie to this world.

I'm a huge advocate for women feeling empowered and comfortable where and how they birth. One more time for those who missed that:

I'M A HUGE ADVOCATE FOR WOMEN FEELING EMPOWERED AND COMFORTABLE WHERE AND HOW THEY GIVE BIRTH. 

For us, this means that we don't want to be at a hospital. I don't want to be hooked to IV's, have nurses constantly in and out of my room, be in some other persons gown, or to be restricted in any way. I want to be free to move. I want to be in my own room, in my own house, with my own people. That is what makes me comfortable. If a woman chooses differently, if the thought of having a home birth freaks them out, you won't be comfortable during labor, and that's no good friends. However, I wish more woman were truly educated, knew their rights, and fought for them. I also wish that birth and labor were less shrouded in fear and selfishness, but that is a whole other post. 

For me to feel comfortable  to have a baby, this what we chose. Luckily, God has made a way for that to happen. We've been incredibly blessed to be able to pay our midwife and to continue in her care. For a while, I was scared that HG would send me straight to an OB and the hospital. With God's grace, a supportive husband, and an incredibly midwife, who saw me through a rough pregnancy. 

So that's midwifery care. That's how things are done. If you ever have questions, feel free to ask and I'll answer to the best of knowledge, or ask Doran the next time I see her. :) 

And Doran, feel free to comment with anything that I missed! Blair and I love you, and are thankful for your service in helping bring Miss Ellie into this world soon! And you too Jodi! 

Love is Blooming

Maybe I'm just getting sassy in my old age. Or maybe it's all pregnancy hormones, whatever it is, I've decided some things. Some things that are worth sharing.

For the first time in my life, I'm on the other side of this being pregnant thing. Normally, I'm the one watching and waiting for friends or sisters in law or my mom or whoever. I get excited about babies. About ALL of it, the pregnancy, the labor, the newborn. I wish every women felt comfortable with sharing their birth stories, because I always have this burning curiosity to ask. I like knowing it all, how long it took for them to go into labor, how many weeks they are, all of it.

As the pregnant one now though, on the other end, I must humbly apologize for all the times I've annoyed a pregnant lady. Because you can be sure I've gotten annoyed a time or two myself. Here and there. About certain things. Little things.

The matter of the uterus a common topic, though we don't call it that. But if we're all honest and grown up and adult about this, that's where babies are formed and created. The uterus.  I don't like saying things about my daughter being in my tummy...makes me feel like I've eaten her and that's weird. She is where God intended her to be. The muscular organ that has grown SO very large.

Here's the deal though, my reproductive system, is the business of three people. Me, my husband, and my God. This includes but is not limited to how many children we have, how far apart they are, and when they come out of me.

I've decided that when I go into labor, I don't want people to know. I have certain expectations in my head. One of them is that I will be in labor for a while, like my Momma was. (She had LONG labors, that crazy woman) So informing EVERYONE once the contractions hit/the water breaks/however my body decides to do this, is for me, my team, and my husband.

I want to post a picture of a beautiful baby and invite friends to tell her Happy Birthday. Because that's what a birthday is people, celebrating the day that YOUR mother pushed/went under/whatever to get YOU out. (Think about THAT the next time you think your birthday is all about YOU)

My plan is for my team to know. And for my closest family to know. My older brothers and their wives, a few grandparents, but honestly, as much as I love all of you, you can wait. Just like I've had to for these past few months. Be patient. This birth is not about  you, and I'm not entitled to have to tell ANYONE when I go into labor. Plus, who knows when it will ACTUALLY happen, AND there is no way to tell how fast or slow a labor will go.

Don't worry, when she's born, I'm gonna wanna tell everyone. I'm gonna wanna show everyone. I have someone taking birth pictures for us, I promise you that you won't miss much (and don't think to much about birth pictures, there will be nothing too graphic). Every mother is proud of their baby. Every mother wants to show their baby off, I'm gonna want to, really really.

Now that that is said, here, look at some pictures my best friend/godmother of my child/Auntie Ameh took of me. I look like I'm gonna have a baby and what not...weird!

 

I know that most of you have seen these, because of the good old Facebook, but I still wanted to write about it. It meant a lot to me that she took the time to take these pictures for me (and hopefully, will take some of me and Blair together..?) especially since we went to the place that she had gotten engaged at the DAY BEFORE!!!

I love that I have someone willing to help me document this time. Especially since I never thought I would want to. Ameh is amazing, and she's doing such a wonderful service for us...and I won't be able to say enough how honored I am that she is part of her Lennie's life. She doesn't love in little ways, she loves with her whole heart, and that's...that's beautiful and something worth teaching my daughter.

This is a poem that she wrote, and it's beautiful. I want to frame this and put it above my daughters bed/her little corner in our room.

Love is blooming, right here, right now, right inside of me, and that is a precious gift that I am holding close.

Choices, My Team, and A Plea For Help

Let's talk about choices. Because, we all have to make them.

Some woman chose to have their children in hospital, some have them in cars (because they don't make it there), some woman in third world countries have them in huts. Some woman, have their babies at home.

As most of you know, this what Blair and I chose for our baby. We are informed and educated, we get that it freaks some woman out, we get that some people can't or won't or that they fell uncomfortable doing so. Let me be clear, regardless of where you are going to have your baby you should feel comfortable. If you don't, this will highly impact how your labor goes and I believe that with all my heart.

We are embarking in a grand journey right now. Big things are happening, we're excited. I'm growing a human. It's kinda awesome. As we draw near to going into labor, there are some things on our "To Do" list that we haven't done yet. We haven't made a Birth Plan (which, though I know it can change, I think is important to write down, if you haven't, consider it and check out this site http://www.birthingnaturally.net/ because it has a lot of incredibly useful information on Birth Plans) and as I sit today and consider what I want on there, I start to think of who I want there. My team.

I need a team. I need people who know me and help me and are there for me. Here is my team:

The Husband 
It's pretty standard. He's been with me every step of the way, seeing me at some of my worst times. He's supported me, prayed for me, loved me (Even when I was being completely insane), and helped me remember how to breathe. He's wonderful. He does things sometimes that I didn't know I needed him to do. I can't imagine a birth without him. I couldn't imagine him not being there to catch our little girl. I think it's so neat that the very first person, outside of me, who will touch her, is her father. What a story to tell her...

My Mother
 Not only has my mother given birth to 7 amazing children (if I do say so myself), she's been training to be a Doula. And I've seen her in action.

My mother is amazing. She's beautiful and compassionate and she loves to serve. I need her in the room with me. I need her to calm me down and rub away the stress. I need her to remind me that I can do this. I need to see that look on her face, the one where I know, that if she could go through it all for me, she would. She's going to take care of me, and my Husband while he supports me. She's not going to leave my side, I know she's not. And in the end, I feel like the privileged one to be able to have this woman with me.

The Photographer 
Here's where I get a lot of "you're crazy" from people. My very best friend and Godmother to my child will be here to photograph Eleanor's Birth. I want pictures, and yes, I want pictures of it all. I want pictures of my labor position and what my face looks like when my uterus contracts. I want pictures of my mom and my husband holding my hand, I want pictures of the time, the date, the tools, everything. I want pictures of my team and I want pictures of Blair's face the minute he meets his daughter. I want pictures of us holding her and of all the people in the room crying, I want all of it. Documented. Maybe not so much for you, but for me. In my experience at the five labors I've been to, Mothers forget a lot of little things that happen. Photographers help capture those little moments. More than that, I want her her. I want her to see what birth is like, I want her to experience with me that I am not afraid, and I want her to be able to tell Ellie one day, "Hey, I was there..." Think of it as making memories.

My Mother in Law
She doesn't even know that she's on my Team, but she so is. She's the background person. I can see her cooking and making sure people have eaten. I can see her making sure we have whatever we need, towels, wash cloths, warm blankets, anything and everything. She might not be in the room when I push, but she will be in spirit and I need her. I do.

And finally,
My Midwife and Her Team
This is where we get to some of what I really want to talk about. Some things I might ask for some help with. I need her professional hands to be here with us after the birth. I've also seen her in action and I love her. More than that, I love her in general. I've loved since before we even got pregnant. She's been amazing and phenomenal and graceful and taught us so much. When we lost our first baby, she checked on me for months. And when we found out about Eleanor, she knew my fears. She calmed my fears. She helped me get through those fears. When I got sick, she encouraged me, and didn't judge me when I told her that at the time, I just couldn't eat well...my keytones looked atrocious for months and she never once made me feel like a bad mother. It was...precious. Her team is wonderful, and I need her there to help calm those fears. I need to hear her tell me that she knows that it works but that it's for my daughter.

Which is why, what I'm about to ask my friends and family is not asked lightly. Since being sick, we've had to cut back on a lot of things. I couldn't work for a while. We lost a lot of money...and then there were ER trips and my need for Zofran to make it through the day (which has slowed down a lot! Some days, I don't even need it!). My midwife is a professional and as a professional, she should be paid. While we are slowly but surely working on that, it's taken a lot out of us.

I know...I know there are some people who have told us that they would still like to get Ellie a gift. Well...here is the gift I'm asking for: please help us with our midwifery bill.  Think of it as a blessing to a family that would like to pay the woman who helps bring a healthy baby into the world. All you have to do is follow this link and specify that however much money you would like to donate goes to Blair and Maddie Jaques. It would be an incredible blessing to us. And it doesn't have to be much. And if you are thinking "we've already given them a gift" then don't worry about this. We would ask that you prayerfully consider helping us, and if you can't, then really, it's ok. Any and all help would be wonderful and we'd appreciate it.

We are trusting, no matter what, that this will be taken care of, either by ourselves alone, or with the help of others. At this point, I can't humble myself much lower...shoot, in January I had to ask people to bring me food and my house...God bless all the people who saw my house.

God is good. He is faithful. And we're trying to only ever do what He would ask of us. For us, this means that we birth at home, here in our little apartment at his parents with the best team possible. If you can or are willing to help make that team possible, you have no idea the amount of gift that you are giving to us.

Plus Ellie SSSSSSSOOOOOOO doesn't need ANYTHING else. Child is already spoiled, I'll be real. :)

Baby Growing, Mother's Day, Middle of May!!!

Well friends I feel like it's been a long time since I last wrote anything to you. We've been awfully busy. My new job, Blair's new job, growing a baby, no biggie. :) Not to mention that when I DO have days off I feel this incredible need to be SUPER productive. So I end up scheduling myself for about a billion things. I promise you I'm trying to slow down...it's just not so easy.

As always, I've been thinking about five million different things that I want to share with my few friends who follow this blog (are you following me? I would love for you, I really love sharing my thoughts). I am trying to think of the best way to organize these thoughts and make them coherent. It's not easy, especially with the Ellie STEALING MY BRAIN. Seriously, Baby Brain, it's real. In fact, let's start there!

I have become VERY dyslexic as my pregnancy progresses. I mix up letters and numbers and words like it's my job in life. When I'm researching something for the Library or looking up a book for a patron, I end up typing it all backwards. I have to re-try quite a bit. So in advance, I apologize for all grammatical and spelling errors. I should let the Fairy Godmother read these before I post them...it would probably cut back on me sounding illiterate.

This past Saturday I took pictures for some of my very favorite people (side note, why, at the END of my pregnancy have I decided that spending all this time taking pictures for people is a good idea? Oh yeah, I love it...got it...). We walked FOUR miles. And I did the WHOLE thing. I won't lie, for me, this was a big deal. It helped me sleep and walking is such an amazing thing to help with labor. What's more, those pictures turned out amazing and I love them. Plus that family is one of the best. No joke. I even let the mom use my camera to document me. My husband has been on a lot of my photo shoots lately, and I love it. I love when he comes with. We both got thousands of bug bites, but it was so so so worth it.

I feel very big now. We're almost 34 weeks and man...I marvel at how big she is, and that she will just get bigger. How did God DO this? This right here, what I'm doing, makes me feel like more of an artist than anything I've ever created before. I'm helping to MAKE a HUMAN. How...how can this not blow your mind? Even on the worst of days when I just want to skip to the part where I push her out...I can't help but think about her in there growing and moving. She's so funny, so full of personality. We went to see Shrek the musical (which my younger sister Evie was in and who did an AMAZING job) and Eleanor LOVED it. Very rarely does she move that much! I think we have a future theatre/musical geek on our hands.

I celebrated Mother's Day, and herein lies a small rant. While at Church, I heard someone make a comment when I raised my hand to signify that I am mother. While it was not the right time or place to call said person out, I so badly wanted to. Being pregnant, counts. You. Are. A. Mother. What's more, even if I hadn't been as pregnant as I am, I would have raised my hand. Cara counts. To tell the mother of a lost baby, whether miscarriage or still born, is to deny that she had life inside her. To deny that life...is unacceptable. And mean. And cruel. Being pregnant with Ellie certainly helped this year, however, I still felt the sting of our loss. Because my plan for this year, was to actually have a physical baby to hold, and not just a memory.

For the record, if you know a woman who suffered a loss in any way, and it's mother's day, make damn (yes, I used that word, get over it) sure to tell her Happy Mother's Day. And if in your opinion said person is NOT a mother, keep it to yourself. You have no idea how your comment will affect her. I'll get off my high  horse now, but that one comment I heard behind me really...well, it got to me.

We are doing really well. Pregnancy wise, moving, in general is getting harder and harder. Even flipping from side to side at night takes a lot of me. I think it's hysterical, Blair sometimes...not so much. I'm pretty sure I woke him up last night because I moved his pillow because it was "trying to eat my face"? He grumbles, but he will always scoot over or help me adjust the thousands of pillows I sleep with. He's a trooper, I love him.

Stretch marks have finally decided to REALLY show up. It seems as though in the past two days I've gotten these beautiful lines marking up my belly. I love them. I love the evidence that I am carrying life.

Let's talk about yoga for a second, because I love yoga. I wish I was going more frequently. I feel very good about myself and my baby after we go. Everything hurts less. :) I also like that most of the poses are things I can bring home and do on my own. My instructor is wonderful and adorable and makes me feel incredibly at peace. (In fact, after this, I'm gonna go do some stretches...things be tight up in here yo!)

All in all, we're just getting more excited. I keep praying about labor, and trusting in my midwife and listening to Blair when I feel crazy (which has been rather frequent I must admit...) I'm drinking lots of red raspberry leaf tea and another tea called NORA tea (Nettles, Oats, Raspberry leaf, and Alfalfa) and I feel strong. Most of the time. Sometimes, when I'm still for too long and then start going again, I get weird and move really slowly. I've got the pregnant waddle down, even though I try really hard to walk normally.

It's already the middle of May and June is almost here! I keep in mind that Little Miss might decide to come in July (which I can TOTALLY see her doing because she's half Blair and he's stubborn like you would not believe) just to mentally prepare myself that I might not be "done" when the calender says I should be. Babies come when they're ready. I'm ok with that.

I will really try to post more! I have lots of things that happen and I think, "That would make a great blog post" and then I get home....and Eleanor says "SSSSSSSSSLLLLLLLEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPP" and I must admit, I'm willing to oblige the little goober. :)

Full

There are all these little things that are happening that just make me smile. Conversations that I've had, people who've stopped to see me, encouragement right at the right time.

I think about how my husband and I realized how incredibly selfish we are with and for one another. If we have spare time, we want to be where the other is. Three times Blair has come by the Library just to see/be near me. He showed up today and confused the heck out of me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I wanted to give you a kiss." He said. And then he did.

Our schedules have gotten much busier than we are used to. I work more now that I have been in MONTHS and I LOVE it. It just means that we don't get to spend our afternoons together the way we used to. It's all worth it though, because I love what I'm doing now. He sees this, knows it, and embraces it.

Today I saw a friend I haven't seen in a LONG time. She said "I love seeing how much you love Blair and Ellie." First of all, I love that she called them both by name, and second of all, I love that my actions speak that loudly. I want people to know who I love. I want people to know about my Faith and about these two people who mean so much to me. They are gifts, shouldn't we treasure our gifts? I've been thinking all day about that conversation. It kept me smiling.

Tonight my little brother took me to get frozen yogurt for cutting his hair. He looked at me and said "You're not the same Maddie as last year." All these things in just one day, my heart feels full.

We are officially in the third trimester. Ellie Girl feels huge, shoot, I feel huge. It freaks me out a little that she's not done growing and that I'm going to get even bigger. I can't imagine that it's true. I still get sick in the mornings, but I'm so tired of talking about throwing up, that I just ignore it when it happens. I've gotten to this divine acceptance that THIS is what pregnant looks like for me. I have two choices, complain, or accept it. While some days it's hard to accept, still, most days, I just take care of business and carry on. I like it better that way. Having two or three nose bleeds in a week tends to make me a little (read, a lot) fussy, but I'm really really trying to control that attitude. I know there are plenty of women who would love to have what I have sickness wise if it only meant that they were pregnant.

All the sudden I've got this voracious appetite. I want all the foods all the time, expect first thing in the morning. By ten though, man...it's like a food monster lives in me. At night, I feel like I get so hungry I could eat and eat and eat. I'm trying to remember all the things that are super good for us though. I may not have been able to eat well the first two trimesters, but hopefully I can now.

I've also been treated to a pedicure and a steak dinner in the last week. It amazes me the amount of wonderful people that surround us. I told Blair that we've got to start getting out more, if only because truly, people miss us. It goes back to that being selfish with one another. We're entirely too content laying next to eat other in bed reading or talking about books. However, I know that there might be a time when we really won't have all this time for one another, so be patient with us as we try to make the most of it now.

My heart feels full today. Almost like I was empty and needed some words of love without even knowing it. It's amazing to me how God works things together to fill us, even when we don't know we were running on empty.

The Cost

Blair and I were reading not long ago that when you blog you should do so with some sort of purpose. I'll be honest, I'm not sure what my purpose is for writing except that I like to and it helps me organize my thoughts. I also live under the impression that if you can help someone else in ANY way, well, you should. Especially when you're a Christ Follower. When did we become so tight lipped? Why is it so hard to want to share our lives to help one another?

Granted, at the moment, I'm all about Baby Girl. I'll be honest, it's been a journey, and I like to chronicle it here for you people/maybe a little for myself. We as a couple and individually have learned a lot. It's important for me to share, because for once, I didn't let the bad outweigh the fact that God is still working in my life. I'm learning things about the character of God that I'm not sure I understood before.

This weeks post centers around one song, ONE. We went to visit the Fairy Godmother this weekend, because I have been feeling AWESOME and wanted to see her. She got to feel her Lennie (NO ONE ELSE IS ALLOWED TO CALL HER THAT, HER NAME IS ELLIE OR ELEANOR)(for the record) kick, made us dinner, we watched stupid movies, and she had no idea that we were coming. We also got to see the Fairy Godfather. The whole hour long drive there, we just got to be together. Just got to live. Just got to chill out man. There was much talking and much singing. This song has been in my head all week.

"Real Love is not afraid to bleed."

Soak that line in for a second. It stuck with me and I started to think allllll sorts of thunks. 

See, I love God, I do. I love Jesus, I love the Bible, I mean, if you can't tell that by now, then you might have missed something. I am learning how to live in my life in a quietly bold way. One where I am able to say my opinions without being a jerk. Christians, we can have our beliefs, it does NOT mean we have to be rude or mean about it. I believe that Jesus, being God, took the form of man, came down, died for me. 

Died for me. Bled for me. Think about this. The cost for Jesus to LOVE me the way He wanted to, was to bleed for me. This song says "I've counted up the cost, and you are worth it." What is the cost?  Me. The cost of following Jesus is that I pursue Him, love Him, seek Him, get to know Him. I'm not selfish enough to think that this world is all about me. I forget it sometimes, but in reality, I know that in the end I want people to know WHO I loved, instead of just that I did. 

As my belly grows bigger and bigger, I think about what this baby costs us. Not money wise, but time wise, and life wise, and physically. In just a few short months I will prepare to work in such a way that I have never worked before. I will get tired, I will want to quit, I will want to stop, it will hurt, it will take all the strength I have, but in reality? It's not about me. 

What you might say? You being in labor is not about you? Are you crazy?

No. Labor is about bringing new life into this world. Therefore labor is about my child, not about me. I hope that what I'm saying makes sense. Because all the sudden, I understand Jesus just a little more. He knew the pain that awaited him, I know the pain that comes from childbirth. He knew that he would bleed, there is a fair amount of what people call "birth grossness" when it comes to labor. He knew that the cost of what He was doing was worth it. I know that the cost of having my daughter with us is all this HARD work that I will have to do. 

But I've counted up the cost, Eleanor Amanda Ray is worth it. And it must be real love that I feel for her, because I'm not afraid to bleed, I'm not afraid to spend hours waiting and working for her, I'm not afraid of whatever pain might come, because at the end, I get her. 

As I thought about this, I thought about my Jesus in those hours before the cross. You know, Easter is coming, and while we celebrate the fact that um, you know, He ain't dead, let's go back and read what He did. Read those chapters in John. Out loud. Let yourself cry because of the pain and blood loss. Remember that He did it for you, just because it's real love, just because He loves you. Remember that all He wants is a better life for you, all He wants is your Heart, and man, once you've tasted that Love, it's hard to want anything more. 

Then call your Momma, if you can. Say thanks for bleeding for you, working for you, for bringing you here. Tell her thanks for thinking you were worth it. And if you can't thank her, or you don't speak to her, thank God. The fact that you are alive means that someone really truly loved you. No matter where you are now.  

PUSH: The Labor Playlist

You know what I'm most excited about with this pregnancy?

Labor. That's what. I'm so stupidly excited to be in labor. I can't truly explain it, and I won't try to hard, because there are plenty of people who are probably like "You have no idea, you'll hate it." No. I won't. And most woman, if they're honest, won't and don't either. Why? Because you have a tiny little baby that you carried around with you for 40ish weeks and you finally get to meet them.

Maybe I just grew up weird, with a Mommy who talked about Birth and Labor and nursed (gasp!) in front of her older children. Maybe it's because when I was really small, maybe 7 or 8, I found her Bradley Birthing Method book and looked through. Have you ever seen that book? 1, It's a wonderful book and incredibly useful for a laboring mom and her partner, 2, there are some awesome pictures of laboring women in it. I wasn't scared though, to me, it seemed perfectly natural. I saw the looks on the women's faces too, I could see that they were working HARD, but it never occurred to me that they were in pain, or hated what they had to go through. It never occurred to me that a 7/8 year old should or shouldn't be looking at pictures of women pushing babies out of their vagina's. Although for the longest time, I really did think we pooped babies out and got worried when I went number two. For real. That happened in my little kid brain. :)

Maybe it's because since becoming an adult, I've seen one of my best friends in labor three times. No joke. I was there. It was real life. Or maybe I'm not scared of home birth because I got to witness another amazing friend bring her son into the world, at home. I've seen it all and felt some of it. I got hold my friends belly while her taunt tummy contracted around her daughter. I've cried each time I've seen these things. To see the strength there, the beauty...why is our culture so afraid of birth? Why don't we support one another's choices to birth where and how we want?

See, I don't like being told what to do. When I'm in pain, or working hard, I normally put on head phones, turn on some music and retreat to a very primal place where I work hard and get a job done. I've done it with yard work, with painting, with cleaning, with loads of things. I also know when I need people to look me in the eyes and tell me "Yes, you can do this." Therein lies the Husband's job.

I have more dreams about the labor that I look forward to than giving birth to kittens or whatever else people say you dream about. I have dreams about squatting next to our bed, holding my husbands hands, looking him in the eyes, and pushing. I tell myself, even now, you know, you can DO this. 

I'm not afraid. Oh but please don't think I don't have a healthy respect for labor and birth! Hence the reason I have a Midwife, hence the reason I have my mother who is also my Doula, because those woman, they know more than me medically wise. I have my primal instincts, but there are things I don't know, that they do. While I am not afraid, I have a healthy respect for what is unknown to me.

I  was thinking about all this today because I have to be excited about something, I just find it amusing that I'm most excited about the part that most women are afraid of, or don't look forward too. I'm a little weird.
I was also thinking about all this, because I made a playlist for myself called Push, and I wanted to share it. These are songs, for whatever reason, that I want to listen to while I'm working like I'll have to. Some of them are funny, some of them are serious, some remind me how I am fearfully and wonderfully made, some remind me of my husband. I have my reasons. I'm sure I'll add more as time goes by, but it's just fun to share. :)

• Falling into You, our wedding song, Maw
• Be Born, Tally Hall
• Summertime, Mae
• We Are Gonna Be Friends, The White Strips
• Eye of the Tiger, Survivor
• Psalm 126 (You Have Done Great Things), Chris Tomlin/David Crowder, Passion
• Viva La Vida, Coldplay (a feel good song for me.)
• Easy Silence, Dixie Chicks
• Crags and Clay, Gungor
• Lullaby, Dixie Chicks
• Crazy, Gnarles Barkley 
• Waiting for This, Hanson (I found this amusing)
• Sort Of, Ingrid Michealson 
• God Will Lift Up Your Head, Jars Of Clay
• Blessing in the Storm, Kirk Franklin
• The Circle Of Life, Lion King (Hey man, it's true! I'm giving birth! It makes sense!)
• Doxology, Micheal Gungor (I need some Camp in there for strength)
• I Will Wait, Mumford and Sons
• Looks Like Love, Needtobreathe
• Not With Haste, Mumford and Sons
• Fireflies, Owl City
• I Miss You, Blink 182 (Long story, but I want it there!)
• Man, I Feel Like A Woman, Shania Twain (you can't get much more womanly than birth yo!)
• Such Great Heights, The Postal Service 
• Us, Regina Spektor
• For the Moments I Feel Faint, Relient K
• Must Have Done Something Right, Relient K
• Captivated, Shawn McDonald
• I Celebrate the Day, Relient K (I know it's a "Christmas" song, but the lyrics are so good, and it would be a day to celebrate, no?)
• The Light, Sara Bareilles

It's all so exciting. And hey, we're almost there! Crazy to think that we're pretty much kinda half through our pregnancy waiting to meet our little girl. 

You know, despite everything, God is Good.