Gifts

Every now and again, I get these thoughts. They stick with me, glued there in the back of my mind. I’m not sure what started this thought. I’m not sure where it came from. Nothing in particular happened. It just started. Now it won’t stop until I just share it.

It’s not for who you might think it’s for. In fact, the intended audience even surprises me. When this one tiny thought bubbled into my head it exploded at a group of my peers. At my community. At the Christians in this world, in this County, in this state, maybe even in my home town.

Here’s the deal: we had a baby. A beautiful, precious baby girl. We are and were young. We are and were not sure what we were doing. We were sure of one thing though, and that is what the bible has to say about children, about babies. About them being a blessing. About how Faith can be as small as a mustard seed and it can be all that you need.

Not everyone applies this to every aspect of their lives though.

Christians, when did babies and children become what the world thinks instead of what God thinks? When did we decide to pass judgment on our own people, the ones who feel called to raise and love their children? When did we decide that we needed to comment on how many kids a woman has, or how far apart her children are? Why can’t we simply love one another and stay out of their uteruses?

I don’t understand. I don’t understand being told that Eleanor was a choice. She was our choice? Really? Is that why I cried when I found out I was pregnant with her, terrified I would watch myself bled out and miscarry again? I really wanted that, right. I had to give up a lot of fear and doubt and remember that the God who parted the Red Sea was also the God who had given my husband and I this gift.

We need to change how we think Christians.

When we devalue the loss of a baby at 7 weeks, we are devaluing life. If you read the Bible, you know that life is important to God. So we get up in arms about abortion but don’t comfort the weeping mother who is struggling with each day because she miscarried? I don’t understand. We preach and tell the world that babies are not choices, and then we tell young Christian couples that it was their choice to have babies so they can deal with all that entails on their own? What?

We needed help after our daughter was born. We still do. I still go talk to my mother and other Christian women in my church, asking for their help, advice, and comfort. I still need help doing laundry some days, because I’m just so tired. I still text my sister in law about things like cradle cap, and ask my best friend who had her daughter the same day if she is experiencing the same thing.

I’m not asking people to pay our hospital bills. I’m not asking people to be up with me at four am. I am tired, but I don’t go around complaining about it, I knew I would be. Believe me, you adjust. You become less selfish. You have to. It’s not about you anymore.

I am asking that people love us. That they don’t say demeaning things. That they don’t judge the piles of laundry, or make fun of me because I didn’t do half the things I thought I’d do. I am asking that Christians stop acting like babies are only good under certain circumstances, within the walls that they place. Christ lived outside of the boxes we put Him in. If He’s bigger than all the things we say He’s bigger than, then why aren’t children included in that?

We are such a society that picks and chooses.

So. To every couple that had a honey moon baby, to every mother who just didn’t have time to shower. To all the Mommy’s who are crying right now because it’s their third, fourth, or Heaven forbid, fifth child and they don’t feel loved, to every mom who knows what it’s like to be sick and nursing an infant, to all the Dad’s who work to pay bills and feel that they aren’t home enough. To the Momma in the grocery store with the screaming two year old and the round belly of life, to all those who feel like you are devalued because how much you love you babies, or are afraid to announce your fifth precious baby, please know, from the bottom of my heart, I. Love. You.

You are enough. You are beautiful. You are hard working. You valued in the eyes of our Savior. I feel like this has been said before, there are plenty of blog posts out there that say these same things. But it needs to be said, again and again and again. Because our hearts are so full of love, because we think that no one knows how we feel. Because someone in your Church made a comment about how “it’s your fifth so you don’t need a baby shower”. Every child is a gift. Not a choice. If they were choices, there wouldn’t be any children. Because our world is a selfish one. And Christians are just swimming right along with the world…and I can’t stand it any more…

What I've Been Learning

It had been quite some time since I have taken the time to sit down and write. I've (as per usual) written several posts in the interim, with the INTENTION of typing it all out for you all. But the truth of it, I have been far to preoccupied to actually sit and write it all down.

My baby girl is already growing too fast. We have visited family, taken road trips, gone to the doctor (maybe because I'm slightly paranoid), taken about thirty billion pictures, and I have learned so much about grace and love and myself that to begin to tell you about it would take eons.

Eleanor is sleeping in her swing. She is napping, late at night, and I am letting her. Maybe I let her grandmother feed her a bottle, maybe I prayed she would sleep so that I could nap as well. Maybe there is a large pile of clothes on our bed waiting to be folded. And they might continue to wait while I write about how the motherhood thing has taken me and stretched me and made me so much better.

This week God truly worked in my heart to remind me to stop thinking so much of self and to start thinking more about the cross. About selflessness. I've read articles written by other mothers that brought me to tears, and I've sat in my car and cried out to the Lord, and I've sung "Lord I need you, Oh I need you, every hour I need you" quietly to my girl at three AM when she woke up to eat. I want Ellie to know the Lord, His Grace, but if I can't show it to her, then who will she learn it from?

I've caught myself thinking things like "I just want to read, alone, for an hour without worrying about her" or "I used to be able to go to the gym whenever I wanted" or "I used to spend hours painting". All things that I used to do, by myself. Things are not easy. I can't just go out without making sure she is taken care of or making sure that I have my pump (things can be uncomfortable pretty quickly without it...), things as easy as running into a store are difficult now. I found myself resenting it. Resenting the slow down pace I need to take now. Resenting that the room is never clean enough or the laundry never seems to actually be done.

So I had a moment. God reminded me, gently like He does, that His grace is enough. That letting laundry be put to the side to snuggle my precious girl is ok. That she is worth not having the time to read, or paint, or draw like I used. Not that I don't still get to do those things, I am and I have been doing the things I love. Maybe I can't devote hours to them, but I am still me. I am just me with this beautiful baby girl.

She is enough. I've said before that I never knew how selfish I was until I got married. Now I have to triple that since I've been blessed to be a mother. I have been called to this. My hear feels so full when I see her little face. Knowing that for her, I am her world right now. She is completely dependent on me, she loves me. And you know, things are so easy right now, I think most first time parents would tell you that this time was challenging for them as well. But Ellie has no idea.

She has no idea that laundry doesn't get done on time. She has no idea that I'm exhausted when I come home from work. She has no idea that sometimes I get crazy and annoyed with people. She has no idea that sometimes Blair and I fight. She has no idea what bills are, or what money is. She has no idea that we live with her grandparents. Do you know she knows? Love. Our voices. Our faces. She knows that in the middle of the night I pick her up to feed her. She knows that I change her diapers and wash her little body. She knows that I keep her close and snuggle her when her Aunt Abbie accidentally hits her head. She got so upset that she was hurt...and calmed as soon as she was in my arms. She knows me. She knows love.

And if that is enough for her, that's enough for me.

This motherhood thing is no joke. For anyone. Whether you stay at home, work full time or part time, it doesn't matter. It is a calling, one worthy of all my time and selflessness.

Eleanor ranks so much higher in my life than all those other things that used to be or could have been important.

Anyways, that's what I've been thinking about. Here, have some pictures. These are a few of my favorites. :)

Almost There

This summer, I've been stretched in ways I never thought possible. Being a mother is single handedly the hardest and best thing I have ever done. It has made me realize how incredible God is, and how much I need help. It also made me realize how much I need time to myself. Sometimes taking a shower is the best thing that ever happened in the whole world.

I've thought a lot about some things I really want to share with people. I think, more than anything, it comes to this: it amazing to be around people who know my heart.

For as long as I can remember this is what I've wanted. Last night, Ellie decided sleep was not what she wanted or needed, so I was rocking and singing to Itty Bitty, talking to Blair. I said "Sometimes, I don't think you understand the gift you've given me." Even at four in the morning, with only cat naps to go on, I remembered that this is what I've wanted my whole life. I've wanted to be a Mommy, I've wanted to be a Wife, I wanted the four AM feedings, the diaper changes, and that sweet smile Ellie has while she nurses so close to my heart.

A lot of the people in my life know this. I got a hug from a great friend at camp and she whispered to me "I'm glad you have your dream." (I'm glad she is getting hers as well.) I would not say I'm where I want to be in life, by no means have I "arrived". But I'm so much closer. So so so much closer.

Thank you. Thank you to the friends who stood by me when I became enamored with my first my husband, then my daughter. Thank you to the friends who know that my life is different now. Thank you to the friends who knew that I would not be as available as I used to be. Thank you to you all, because I'm still me, and I needed support.

I love Blair. I love my Ellie girl. I love this stupid little room where we live for right now. I don't always mind four am any more, and I realize that I will probably not sleep through the night for a long long long time. I am learning what is worth saying to my husband and what I need to keep to myself. I am learning how to balance time with a baby who depends solely on me for food and comfort, with a husband who is still very very very much in love with me. I am learning to still love my body, despite wider hips and a flabbier belly and less time to devote to working out. I am learning how to find God is quiet moments, how to pray instead of just thinking, how to glorify him in everything, still. I am learning.

I'm almost there. I feel almost there. This is a life I wanted so badly that I can't even imagine how it could even be better. It's hard and sloppy, I have been pooped, peed, and vomited on, and it's great. It's honestly great. Because seeing her smile makes four am less lonely and all the sudden, it's the best time in the world.

Thank you. To those who know what Ellie means to my life, who know how filled I am with joy, thank you.

Still Here!

Just wanted to post real quick, I haven't forgotten my blog. I think about it often, and think, I should write something, and then I get sucked into baby snuggling...or feeding...or playing, so writing here has taken a small back seat. I go back to work soon though, and lunch breaks are a great time to write. :)

Ellie is wonderful. I love posting pictures of her, I love her smile, and I love her goofy giggle/cough thing that she does. I love seeing her with Blair and I love the joy she brings to so many others. She's two months old today, and finally wearing something other than newborn clothes. I love her. I love her a whole bunch. It's been a wild ride these past two months, harder and more rewarding than I could ever imagine. I look forward to telling the stories of this beautiful artwork that Blair and I created together. We sure did a good job with this baby making business. :)

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. 

Ready...Set...AND NOPE

I’ve been contemplating the best way to start this blog post. I considered telling everyone that Blair gave birth today at three pm to a beautiful litter of puppies. Or telling everyone Ellie was here, we just decided to ship her to a different family and I was going to keep a water melon up my shirt. It’s late, I’m getting sleepy, but I’m trying to process my life as of the past two days.

Basically, here’s the skinny, I thought I was in labor. My body thought it was in labor. My body had some awesome contractions, I lost lots of mucus, and I got a great feel for what labor might feel like. But the real question is, what was really happening?

Just like my body is not so great at being pregnant, I’m not so sure it’s good at being in labor. It has no idea what’s going on, and so yesterday and today it was like, “Let’s be cray-cray.”

I feel foolish. I feel crazy, for not knowing what’s happening with my own body. I feel silly for calling my midwife here, not once, but twice, and for having my mom here and the Fairy godmother. I know that they all love me, I know that no one blames me, they are all incredibly supportive, but still. It made me feel very silly.

After trying lots of different things today and walking up a hill while having some awesome contractions and some other things, we decided to all go home. Maybe this is just my body preparing. Maybe something more will happen, maybe it won’t. Maybe my water will break, maybe it won’t. Maybe I’ll have more contractions, maybe I won’t. (That never did happen, and I’m glad, even though a few times I was just praying that ANYTHING would happen.) Truth is, we don’t know, can’t predict, and aren’t trying to. I love my midwife is so supportive, I love that my mom and best friend are completely not mad, and I love love love my husband.

He’s been amazing. You all have absolutely no idea. He was fantastic during some of the really hard contractions, and knew what I was saying when I couldn’t really talk. He worked just as hard as I did and even forced me to get up and do some things that he knew would help. After we sent our team home, he kinda got a little sad. I didn’t realize how much he was looking forward to seeing our baby girl.

I might go into hiding for a while. After everyone went home, I took a nap, relaxed, chilled. Woke up. Blair didn’t quite know what to do with himself and neither did I. So we went to see a movie. We drove for a while. My body has calmed down a lot. We are content in our waiting.

Please be patient with us. And know that this embarrassed me beyond belief. My ENTIRE family thought I was in labor. And a couple of friends.

So this is just another chapter in our pregnancy story. My crazy child doesn’t know what the crap she’s doing, neither do I.

We ended the night with burgers, Blair with a root beer float, and laughing while we threw fries out the window. We’re gonna snuggle and go to bed. As I’ve said before, I promise that when there IS  legit baby and not just a watermelon seed one I’ve eaten, people will know.

All in God’s timing ok? We’re still gonna wait, so you all will have to as well. J

Love,
Maddie and Blair 

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!