It's not like we're looking for a Rolls

So the week before Christmas, the van was rear-ended, and insurance called it a total loss. Not too surprisingly, we're in the market for a new vehicle. It feels as if all we've done this week is look at vans. And Leo's done most of the hard work, scouting the net for vehicles in our area. He's decided it would be nice to have a Chrysler Town and Country, about a 2001 or 2002. He's also willing to settle for another Windstar, but is not crazy about the bench seats in the third row that break his back when he needs to take them out. (T and C has a split seating arrangement that is much easier on the old lumbar.)

We've seen one or two Windstars, and about 20 gazillion T and Cs. A lot of them have the DVD option, but we don't have our hearts set on that because we got a portable DVD player for Christmas. Still, after seeing what is out there that we COULD have, we start getting a little greedy and whiny when we see vans that aren't "fully loaded."

"It only has the console in the front? Not in the back? Crud."

"I don't like this kind of leather; I like the thick, nubby kind like in the van we saw yesterday."

"What? No seat warmers?"

And so on. The nice thing about Town and Country, though, is that they generally DO come with some bonus or other. But just when we decide we like one, something falls through. Yesterday Leo drew a cashier's check for the amount he was willing to pay for one particular van we both loved. After we pointed out some issues that needed to be dealt with, they decided they couldn't go that low. So that one fell through.

Then today, we found one close enough to the one we saw yesterday to make me happy. It did have some paint issues, which once again, we were promised could be dealt with. This vehicle came from another dealer, and our guy told us they wanted a certain amount for it. Trouble is, Leo had papers he'd printed out from online that showed they were actually asking for about $3,000 LESS than our guy admitted to. When confronted with this, our guy acted surprised (really!) and talked with his boss (good cop/bad cop) who said that with the body work we were asking for, he couldn't go down that low. I felt insulted. Did they really expect us to believe that they did not have access to the same information we did? If this guy really didn't know what the dealer was asking, he was not doing his job anyway.

We're back to square one. There is still a Windstar at the lot where we bought the original Windstar, and I think Leo has a few other things up his sleeve. But we have to take the rental insurance paid for tonight or tomorrow. Audrey starts school again next Wednesday. If we don't have a second vehicle by then, I have warned Leo that he will not be able to leave the house for any work until after I pick Audrey up at 10:30.

It could get ugly.

December 26: The day we look behind us and sigh with relief

OK, I know it's actually December 27, but whatever.

There is so much I did NOT include about how Christmas almost did not happen. Like how Friday afternoon, as Aislinn woke up from her nap, I noticed an extra pink flush to her cheeks, which turned out to be a low-grade fever now accompanying the green snot that had been gushing out of her nose for two days. It figured. Leo'd had strep earlier in the week. It was Friday afternoon. The chances of her having some sort of infection were high. The chances of me getting her in to see her regular doctor were nil, especially when the outgoing message when I called the office explained that THEY WERE ALREADY CLOSED FOR THE HOLIDAY. I love my kids' doc, but really! So I called MY doctor to see if she could be squeezed in. She had nothing, no one in her practice did. The receptionist suggested the local immediate care center as an option to a pricey emergency room visit. Aha! We'd never had need of the place before, so it hadn't crossed my mind, but I packed up the kids and we were sitting in the waiting room inside of 15 minutes. Much to my surprise, it was not packed with other sick people unable to get in to see their regular doctors at the last minute before a holiday weekend. In fact, we were in and out within 45 minutes, with stickers for Audrey and antibiotic samples for Aislinn (the one good thing about basically being self-pay: our docs have tended toward sympathy and have gone out of their way to give us free meds when possible. Once I got free Zithromax for Audrey! That stuff is pricey.). The worst part of the experience was realizing at check out that I had left my wallet at home. Oops. I was very self-conscious and afraid the receptionist would think I was trying to get out of paying, something I assume happens at a place like that not infrequently.

I also did not mention, in the days before Christmas, that the praying mantis that we found on the side of the house the last warm day of fall, which we had been keeping in Audrey's bug catcher and feeding crickets bought from Petco, suddenly appeared on the verge of death, and did indeed die sometime Christmas Eve. Audrey knew Abby/Maria (she kept changing the name) was not well and was distressed about this, and once I realized the poor thing was gone, I did everything I could to distract her and keep her away from the mesh cage, not wanting to ruin her Christmas. I moved the chirping crickets (saved from death only for a few days, until they too died of starvation) to a different room and generally kept her away from the cage. Then after Christmas was over, I couldn't figure out how to break it to her. Leo did. While we were out catching some after-Christmas sales, he suggested that if the praying mantis died (IF, oh boy), they could bury her in a special box and have a funeral. I don't completely understand why this approach was successful, but it was. That evening she told me about Daddy's plan, and I said, "Well, I guess that's what will happen, because she's dead. " She looked a little sad, but Leo's talk had prepared her. I found a box tonight and lined it with cotton. We'll have a little ceremony tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometime around the new year, I get a bit manic. I am filled with plans, delusions of ambition, not necessarily even resolutions, mind you, but plans about how I'm going to organize the house, schedule my time better, take on some new project. Tonight's trip to Borders shows I am already in the throes of this. I bought two books: Home Comforts, by Cheryl Mendelson, and Teach Your Own, by John Holt. The first shows that my annual early lust for spring cleaning, my delusions of organization, is already upon me (probably because I know this house will likely go on the market in a few short months). The second tells me that my dream of homeschooling is not yet dead. I am not sure which is more perplexing: the first, since every year I prove yet again that I can no more stay organized than I can ride a unicycle; or the second, since I have been quite enjoying my quiet half-days with Audrey at school, and am also looking forward to full days next year, not to mention hours of uninterrupted time in a few years after Aislinn starts school.

What can I be thinking???

Christmas is a go

Although even as I type, my neck is starting to seize up, a good night's sleep with a muscle relaxer (cutting it in half does the trick) and a nice cervical pillow should do the trick. All the presents are wrapped, mainly because half of them will be opened tomorrow when my extended family gathers here. And I'm not even doing pizza, as I feared! I've got a ham, a tray of raw veggies, some iced Christmas cookies, and some frozen buttermilk biscuits. My sis is bringing dessert, mom is bringing a corn casserole, and all I have to do is throw together a sweet potato casserole. Piece of cake.

Without further ado, I'd like to share a special essay written by Audrey. I wish you could see it just as she wrote it, but she used pencil on a piece of dark purple paper, so I doubt it would show up very well. I'll just type out her spelling and syntax, and then follow with the "translation".

(Note: This is Audrey's description of one of the scenes from the movie The Polar Express.)

the Boy pols the Handol thAt the GRol Thats the GRol that is IN ChArG oF GRIVEg the cHrAn the CHrAN STOPS A the MAN Gos oWT AND POLS the Athr MAns BeRd AND the Athr MAN SCReMS AN THe Der screMs AND Gos AWAY.

And now, the translation:

The boy pulls the handle that the girl that's the girl that is in charge of driving the train; the train stops and the man goes out and pulls the other man's beard and the other man screams and the [rein]deer screams and goes away.

Much better the first way, more vivid, don't you agree?

In case I don't get a chance to get online again (or if stress causes my neck to break into smithereens), I wish all of my readers (both of you ;) ) a wonderful Christmas. And if you don't celebrate Christmas, well, have a fantastic day anyway.

I thought I'd seen everything

I was wrong.

May all your Christmases be...er...fresh and clean!

All of this happened in one week

And most of it took place within a two-day span.

1. My stiff neck started spasming (is that even a verb? It is now).
2. My family doctor prescribed me a muscle relaxer, which only made me feel drugged, drowsy, dry-mouthed, and nauseated.
3. I ran an (apparently unrelated) 102 degree fever.
4. I bit the bullet and took Audrey and my mom to a special Christmas event at the Children's Museum.
5. This entailed driving with my mom sitting shotgun through downtown, as she refuses to go on interstates unless highly drugged, and enduring her gasping at cars passing mere feet (FEET!) from us every other minute, and telling me what I needed to watch out for in the interceding minutes.
6. Leo, with the girls and two other passengers (none me), was rear-ended by another vehicle, most likely totalling our van.
7. Leo took sick with a 100 degree fever, which feels like 105 to him since he hardly ever gets fevers.
8. My chiropractor took x-rays of my neck and found that my cervical spine is curved the wrong way, and that the vertebrae of my cervical spine are misaligned, particularly in the region that is currently offending me.

People, it's Christmas week. We are down to one vehicle, with plenty of shopping yet to do, no time to shop for a new vehicle until after Christmas and no guarantee that a lease from insurance will last more than a couple of days. We have not had two healthy adults in this house for at least two weeks, and it doesn't look like that will change soon. Christmas Eve my parents and my sister's family are all supposed to be here. For dinner. At this point, they'll be lucky to get pizza and receive their presents wrapped.

My Post Secret confession

Even though I have a toddler, I buy Gerber Banana Snackin Squares and Sweet Potato Puffs because I like how they taste. I eat more of the Banana Squares than SHE does (OK, I admit it, I selfishly hid the box from her!).

Aleve is my new best friend

Neck pain is really a pain in the neck. It would get a little better, then it would get worse, then it would ease up, then it would be bad again. It was never exactly the same. Sometimes it was achey, sometimes it felt inflamed. I think the achiness came about because my left arm and shoulder finally became tense and exhausted from trying to find just the right position that might actually ease the pain. It was like trying to fine tune a radio station, or finding a single pixel on a computer screen that you need to click on to get to the next screen of a game. You know it's there somewhere, if you just keep trying. But it sure is exhausting trying to get to that point.

Last night I took my first ever Aleve. I've only ever taken ibuprofen for cramps, or Tylenol for headaches or other miscellaneous pain. Tylenol usually kicks butt for me. Not this time. I was alternating between Tylenol and ibuprofen, and getting only some relief, none of which lasted any reasonable length of time. So I sent Leo out for Aleve last night. I don't know if this is a side effect or if it just works REALLY well, but I slept better last night than I have slept in MONTHS. I think the problem was that the pain in the neck was causing my arm and shoulder to be tense and achey, and the pain there made the neck tense and continued to be sore, and so on. I finally got some real relief, was able to rest, and this morning, while the pain was not (and still is not) completely gone, I feel like I can function now. For the past four days I have been a non-functioning blob. Today, I feel like a new woman.

About a half hour ago I noticed some snow flurries outside, and it's picked up a great deal already. We're supposed to get 4-8 inches before morning. I usually love snow, but this year had been dreading it. But this snow is nice, big soft white flakes. Even though it's very cold right now, I'm hoping it will be above freezing tomorrow so Audrey and Leo can build a snowman. Stuff won't stick together if it's too cold. She may even get to experience her first snow day. I was supposed to take Aislinn to her one-year well-baby visit tomorrow, but decided it would be wise to reschedule it. I drive out of town to get to this guy because he's so cool about some of the less-mainstream parenting choices we make. But I'm not driving out of town for anyone tomorrow.

Crick in my neck and prose from my dad

For those of you reading this who may actually be FROM Indiana, let me assure you, a small stream is not running through my neck. I have a stiff neck, a sore neck, and have had for the past three days. Let me tell you: though it has only been three days, I have major sympathy for people who must go their whole lives with chronic pain, because I am WIPED. OUT. If I sit very, very still for about 20 minutes, the pain will finally subside to a dull ache. But it's very hard to sit still for a whole 20 minutes in my house, and of course, after the 2o minutes is up, I have to go do laundry. Or feed the kids. Leo has been pretty good about helping the last few days, but unless he doesn't go to work at all, he can't do everything that needs done. He has thrown laundry in for me, but I still have to fold it. And if he's not here when it's mealtime, well...

I went to see my chiropractor yesterday for a regularly scheduled appointment, and he hooked me up to the muscle stimulators, on my neck and upper back instead of my lower back where the contacts usually go. OH. MY. BLISS. I let nurse turn up the juice a bit higher than I normally would, and did not regret it. Mild electrical current making the muscle in question twitch...I never imagined it could feel so goooooooooooooooooooood. But it was only for 10 minutes, and then I had to go home. He also adjusted my neck, and it helped a TEENY bit. But it's bad again today. I'm going back Thursday. It's got to get better. I can't live my life motionless on the sofa.

Got an e-mail from my dad this week that I have to post. I am reluctant to do so, because I'm not even asking his permission and can't, since he doesn't even know this blog exists. But, this was pretty funny. I had even heard both stories already, but the way he tells them makes them even funnier.

This past Saturday I had the privilege of watching my grandson, Andrew, play in his first game of “team” basketball.

You have not lived if you have not seen a group of 4, 5, and 6 year old boys and girls play their first “team” basketball game.

They are being taught that it is good to share the ball with your team and you should not be surprised if a person wearing the same color shirt actually throws the ball to you. On the other hand, you should not intentionally throw the ball to someone wearing a different color shirt. You should “guard” (i.e. stand close to) the person who wears a different color shirt but the same color wristband as you have on your arm. The coaches arrange for one player on the other team to have the same color wristband on his/her arm as a player on his team. (I say arm because wrist bands can cover a good part of the arm of a 4 year old.)

Scoring is not expected from every player because many 4 year olds (Andrew, for example) cannot heft the ball more than half way up to the basket. A couple of 6 year olds may be able to accomplish this feat. If this does occur the coaches of both teams, who are also the referees, are required to yell, “Everybody, run to the other end.” (except., of course, the person “dribbling the ball”, which means bouncing the ball occasionally).

Andrew may or may not have actually touched the ball during the time he was on the court, but this huge smile never left his face. (He is in better shape than some of the others.) His team, the Pacers, and the other team, the Spurs, ended up tied at 16-16. Which is about 30 points more than the adults probably expected to see on the scoreboard. The game on the other half of the court ended at 4-0. It was huge fun for everyone who did not fall and hurt their knee or elbow.


Another brief story from Andrew’s Sunday School class. A boy told his teacher he needed to use the bathroom. The teacher asked, “Number one or number two?” The boy, who was not in on this bathroom code, thought for a moment and then answered, “Number three!”

Good question

Recently an anonymous commenter left the following for me to ponder:

Thank you for voicing what I suspect many stay-at-home moms feel. Do you ever wonder, if you had it to do all over again, if you would have been happier not having kids? (You don't have to answer that, I'm just thinking aloud here.) I'm 27 and think about this a lot. My husband and I are very happy and I LOVE my job and I feel very satisfied and fulfilled. I wonder if it would be a mistake for us to have children -- or, if I don't, I wonder whether I would regret that decision. It seems as though to a lot of people, having children is a given. Is that how you felt or did you go through any "turmoil" trying to decide whether or not to become a mom?

These are good questions, and I don't have any problem answering any of them.

First, would I have been happier not having kids? I don't know. There are some days I wonder. But then Aislinn leans over and gives me one of her big sloppy kisses, or Audrey brings me a bouquet of violets she picked me from the backyard, and then I realize I can't imagine my life, this WORLD, without my kids in it. I think it's possible to be as happy without kids as with. Certainly there are probably people who would have chosen to have children if they could, but for whatever reason, could not, and yet go on to have very fulfilling lives. I have a quote that I use in my signature on the parenting message board I frequent. It's from Sheryl Crow's song "Soak up the Sun", the part that goes "It's not having what you want, it's wanting what you've got." I'm not always good at following this advice in practice, which is why I made it part of my signature, to remind myself that happiness is a choice, one I can make no matter what my circumstances are. I thank Anon for reminding me of this.

The rest of the questions are all part of what is probably Anon's ultimate question, which I would word as, "How in the world does one decide whether or not to have children?"

I have no easy answer for that one. I do think if one has doubts, then it's good to wait for at least a little while. I think "field research" is a good way to explore the possibility. Find other people's kids to nurture. Nieces or nephews, or even kids of friends. Babysit them, overnight if possible, unless the thought of an overnight fills you with terror. Then you should start off slower, an hour here, a couple of hours there, then maybe an afternoon or a whole day. You might surprise yourself at how much fun you can have with them. But it will also be a huge reality check as to how much work they can be.

I suppose I was one of those people for whom having children was a given, but I think it would have been wise if I had done a little more of this "field research" than I did. I didn't babysit much in high school or college. I did a little in my late 20s, but no overnights or even afternoons; in fact, most of my babysitting time was spent watching TV after the kiddos were in bed. GREAT insights into parenthood, I tell you (NOT!). I had one nephew before Audrey was born, but he lived far away in China, so he was not really an option for an overnight.

Truthfully, I went into parenthood very unprepared, with a lot of high-minded ideas about how I was going to do it. Some of my ideals I have stuck with, others I've compromised on and tried not to be such a perfectionist about changing my mind. For example, I was committed to extended breastfeeding, and while I succeeded in nursing Audrey until she weaned herself when she was ready (which was my goal) at 3 1/2 (which I more or less expected), I did not anticipate the mixed feelings I would have about breastfeeding. It's the best thing for babies, I've no doubt in my mind, and I do believe that it's best to let them wait until they are ready to quit. But I have to ask myself...was it worth the apparent risk of my mental health? I think I stuck it out more because I am a perfectionist and out of guilt, less because I truly believe it's best for babies (though I do). I don't think this is the best way to start a parent/child relationship, nursing a baby out of guilt. In some ways, I think I might have been a better mom if I had let myself off the hook and at least weaned her a little earlier. With Aislinn, it's different. I don't feel as ambivalent this time around, partly because I took care of the post partum depression much earlier. She may wean earlier anyway, simply because she's not as high-need as Audrey. Whatever, I've given myself permission to wean her earlier if nursing seems to be more a guilt-induced burden and less of a benefit to both of us.

Anyway, that's just an example of how unprepared I was. I had no clue about the effort that went into just being emotionally present for one's children, let alone their daily care and feeding. Still, if I were going to do things differently, I don't think I would NOT have kids...but I would probably have them earlier. Yes, earlier. When I still had energy, before I got so independent that it started to feel like an inconvenience to help my child learn how to fall asleep instead of letting her cry it out. I don't mean that I think I should have let them cry it out; I do mean I wish I did not feel it was an imposition on my time. In my case, I think waiting made me more selfish. I also think I missed out an a HUGE amount of energy reserves that I had when I was younger, that are simply not there today. I saw this played out in my pregnancies. Audrey's was very easy, enjoyable even. When I was pregnant with Aislinn, as you may have just read in her birth story, she couldn't come soon enough for me (or so it seemed). I was exhausted and my back hurt and four and a half years made a HUGE difference in how I handled pregnancy, let alone motherhood. Thank goodness Aislinn is my easy child! I can't imagine having the easy one first and letting all that reserve energy go to waste!

Anon, I can't tell you what to do. I do know that even on my worst days, I don't regret having my kids. Mostly I just long for the days when I don't need to keep opening and closing baby gates for Audrey, when I am done changing diapers, when they're both old enough to read to themselves, when I'm done breastfeeding, when they don't need a story at bedtime or an extra kiss after I turn out the lights...

Wait a minute. Am I so sure about that?

Aislinn's birth story

I have somehow lost Aislinn's original birth story that I wrote not long after she was born. I know at least two places I thought I posted it; one of those places I KNOW I posted it was hit by a hacker earlier this year, and the other, it simply isn't there. Maybe I never put it there. But it's gone now. This is my best re-creation. As with Audrey's birth story, this is a fairly long post.

It was late. We had come home from a birthday party that night and got Audrey in bed, and we were now relaxing in bed, watching the news and then Jay Leno. I'd had hopes for weeks that this baby would come early, because I was SO tired of being pregnant. So unlike my pregnancy with Audrey. I did get tired of being pregnant at the end with her, but with this one, I'd been ready for months. Since we were once again planning a home birth, I was hoping for just a little early. Tonight, my due date was two weeks away.

I felt a little trickle, but doubted it was anything. Still, I looked at Leo...and he looked back at me. "No..." he whispered. "I don't know..." I answered. "I just felt a little...no, I think I just need to go to the bathroom." I shifted in bed, rolling my huge body towards the edge, and as I did, I felt it again, an unmistakable trickle of fluid.

"Uh oh..." I grabbed the towel I had been lying on in anticipation of this eventuality. It wasn't needed. Though my water had indeed broken, I only felt one more brief trickle. It was not urine, and it was clear, so things looked good so far.

But I couldn't believe it! Despite wanting this baby to come early, I did not feel prepared. Baby clothes were still out in the shed, waiting to be sorted and put in the new dresser. And it was so late at night! With Audrey, my water had broken in the afternoon, and she was born before midnight the same day. I was going to have to go through labor at night, and I was afraid if the labor went long this time, I would be worn out from lack of sleep. I did not want to have to transfer to the hospital.

Not only that, but the midwife I had hired months ago was out of town. Her mother had recently had a stroke, and M. had been back and forth between here and Kentucky several times over the last couple of weeks until her mother finally passed earlier that week. She was not planning to be back until the following Monday. Her assistant was on-call for her, and though I liked A. and had met her a couple of times, I was disappointed that once again, the midwife I had hired would not be the one attending my baby's birth.

And one more important thing was not ready: the pool. I was again planning a water birth, and Audrey's had gone so well, the warm water easing the contractions so amazingly, I was looking forward to another relaxing water birth. But the original inflatable kiddie pool I had used with Audrey's birth was long gone, having graduated to its original purpose and springing an unrepairable leak the summer Audrey was a year old. I had ordered a replacement online several weeks before, and after waiting for weeks I discovered I had sent the pool to Illinois instead of Indiana. I quickly ordered a replacement, hoping it would arrive in time. That was less than a week before now. The pool had not yet arrived.

Now that my water had broken, the contractions began. "I don't want to do this TONIGHT!" I complained to Leo. But labor waits for no one, not even unprepared mothers.

I told Leo to rest and sleep while he could. I called the midwife, A., to let her know my water had broken but that contractions were still only about 10 minutes apart. I spent the night in the living room, watching TV, listening to Norah Jones, and timing contractions until I got too sleepy. I tried sleeping between contractions, and wasn't entirely unsuccessful. The paper I wrote the times down on shows clearly when I started to fall asleep, as my handwriting became more and more illegible. I finally decided to stop writing them down unless they started getting more intense, and rested (though without truly sleeping) between them as best I could. Around 5:30 I decided to call my parents so they could get on the road for the two-hour drive from their house. They had been here for Audrey's birth, and now they would hang out with her while we waited.

I think I called A. again sometime around...6:30? 7:30? Just to check in again. Contractions were still quite easy, though not easy enough to sleep through. My parents arrived around 8:30. Shortly after that, my contractions started slowing down...way down. They were now 15 minutes apart, then 20, then 30. By mid-morning, they had all but petered out completely. Now I was frustrated. Now that it was daytime and I felt more confident about laboring after getting at least a little rest, labor was slowing down. I called A. again. She came by on her way up to visit another client to check me. I don't remember now how far I was dilated, but I think it was reasonable, if not terribly impressive. She advised me to rest and sleep as much as possible so that when labor did pick up again, I would be ready for it. I decided that made sense. My first impulse was to walk and move around to try to get things going, but truthfully I could use a little more rest. Since contractions had virtually stopped, I could actually sleep now.

I slept for a couple of hours until about lunchtime. Ate lunch. Rested some more after lunch. Audrey had AWANA to attend at church that evening, so I planned for mom and dad to take her to McDonalds for dinner and then to church. I decided it was time to walk. When the amniotic sac has broken, the chances of infection increase the longer labor takes. Since I was laboring at home, among bacteria my body was used to, my chances were less. But I wanted to take no chance of a transfer if I could avoid it. So Leo and I set out on our first of several walks we would take around the neighborhood that evening.

And it worked! After a few hours of walking, with breaks in between, I felt the contractions start to pick up again. I timed them as we walked, and was pleased to see them getting closer together.

Audrey came home after church, glad that the baby had not come without her. We sent her off to bed, and I set out for one more walk...I think maybe with my mom this time. This time I could feel the contractions becoming more intense. I had to actually slow down for some of them. This was it! I knew it was going to happen this night.

When we got home, I called A. once more to let her know things were picking up, and she said to call her when they were five minutes apart. She had about an hour to drive to get to our house, so she wanted plenty of time to get here.

By 10:00 or so, things were getting very intense. I decided to try the bathtub, since, despite all hope, the pool had still not arrived that day (it would finally arrive four days after the baby was born). I just could not get comfortable in the bathtub. The pool had tall, soft sides. The tub's were short and hard. The water just could not get deep enough to cover my belly, which is how deep it needs to be to provide maximum relief. I started groaning during contractions, and decided it was time for A. to come. After we called her, I felt back labor begin. OH. JOY. There is nothing like back labor. My back had bothered me throughout this whole pregnancy, and it was only fitting that it should end in a crescendo of back pain. Nothing helped. I had Leo press as hard as he could on my hips until he was afraid he was going to break them. I longed for a deep water. Norah Jones sang for me to come away with her, and I thought, fine, anywhere, just so long as there is a deep kiddie pool with warm water in it.

A. arrived, and I started feeling nauseated. I had thrown up in labor with Audrey, so I knew it could happen. I yelled "BUCKET!" and it was shoved under my face. After twisting and turning and trying to get comfortable in the tub, I decided to get out. I made my way to the bedroom where chux pads and towels were spread out on the floor at the foot of the bed. Our bed at the time did not have a headboard, and I wanted something to brace my back against. So the foot of the bed it was. I asked for a pillow behind my back, and I was set.

I decided it was time to wake Audrey up if she wanted to watch. My mom brought her in, and she immediately ran for Leo. The plan had been for Mom to be responsible for her so Leo could help me, but I wanted her to be comfortable enough to stay, even if that meant losing a little support. M.'s apprentice, S., was also there, so I was doing ok on support anyway. As my contractions intensified and my groans got louder, Audrey became more and more agitated. When I started crowning, she decided it was too much and decided she wanted to go out and color with Grammy. I couldn't blame her. Birth is a very intense, freaky thing, watching a new person come out of another person.

It wasn't long after then that we met our new baby for the first time, very early in the morning. A. later told me that, as the baby was born, a huge gush of blood and clots flowed out unlike anything she had ever seen, and she was very concerned for a brief moment. But it was soon apparent that there was no problem. We rubbed the baby's back to get it to breathe, as it seemed a little blue. It cried, and opened it's eyes and I thought to myself, "I know you. I know you!" This baby looked so much like Audrey, for a moment I wondered if it was all a dream and this was still my first birth!

We didn't know the sex yet, though I'd had a strong boy vibe throughout most of the pregnancy. Audrey agreed with me for most of the pregnancy, but at the end changed her mind and declared it was a girl. In the end, she was right. We were going to wait a bit to check for "parts", but as I shifted the baby to move the cord to a better position so we could cut it, I inadvertently saw before we were ready. I gasped, and looked at Leo. "It's a GIRL! I can't believe it! I was sure it was a boy all this time!" I had actually been hoping for a boy, but in that split second of realization, it just didn't matter. She was here, she was gorgeous, she was ours. And that was all that mattered.

After a few minutes I stood up and put a little more clothing on so my dad could come in with mom and Audrey to see the new baby. We have a fantastic picture, though a bit dark, of Audrey sitting in our bed next to me, proudly holding her new baby sister.

This pregnancy, this birth, and Aislinn herself were so different than "previous experience", as I tend to word it (so as not to give Audrey a complex!). The pregnancy was harder. The labor was far earlier, but longer, than Audrey's had been. And the birth itself was harder, even though labor had been much easier. I had trouble pushing with Aislinn. I could not seem to get on top of the contractions, did not feel I was pushing effectively. In the end, though, I DID NOT TEAR, which was also different from before (I needed a couple of stitches after Audrey was born). And I think this is why my first week postpartum was far easier than it had been after Audrey. For a week after Audrey was born, I felt like my insides were going to fall out, I was sore, and did not want to move around at all. But this time...I was walking around Walmart shopping for a carseat the very next day, I kid you not. I felt great. I felt so great that A. finally told me I needed to slow down if I didn't want to crash in a few weeks (I saw the wisdom of this after a few days!).

And Aislinn...such an easy baby. God knew what I needed this time. Audrey was and still is pretty high-maintenance. She nursed every two hours or LESS the first nine months of her life, including at night. Aislinn was quite happy to go three hours from the start, and occasionally had to be woken up to nurse in her early weeks. She did not require me to hold her 24/7. A year later, she still does not truly sleep through the night, but she does let me get four hours at a stretch.

I'm thankful and blessed by both of my children. Each of their births was unique and I will never forget either of them