I think I'm becoming a minimalist...

Wow, two years since I've blogged here. For a while I was thinking that this blog didn't serve much purpose anymore, but I browsed through it a while ago and decided there was some good direction here. My other blog (simply-vulnerable.blogspot.com) is more about sharing poetry and profound thoughts. This one I feel should be more about day-to-day stuff, which I have not been very good at recording lately. Since my last blog post here, I've had another baby, we've sold our old house and moved to a new one in a different city, my husband changed jobs--life has just been busy. But I'm ready to start recording again. I'm not sure if I'll do it here or if I'll switch to a regular pen-and-paper journal, but this will do for now.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about simple living and minimalism. When we put our home up for sale last summer, we did a lot of decluttering and dejunking. We had a very successful yard sale, paid to have our house professionally  deep cleaned (which was heaven for me as a pregnant mom!), packed away the rest of the stuff we could easily live without for a while, put grass in the back yard, did a little redecorating and staging, and made our home look beautiful in a simple, clean way (which made me sad to leave it!). Because we had to be ready for a showing pretty much any time of day (we opted to have only a one-hour notice before showings), we tried our best to keep the house pretty clean most of the time. It was a lot of work with two toddlers running around and my ever-growing belly (stooping again and again to pick up all the toys off the floor was murder!), but we were confident our house was priced right and would sell quickly--except it didn't. It sat on the market for six months--once we didn't have any showings for over three weeks, which drove me crazy. But that was six months of doing our best to keep our house as clean as possible at all times (though we did finally say that we needed more notice before a showing when I was super pregnant and just after Jenna was born). And things got a little more lax the longer our house stayed on the market. Even so, it was definitely the cleanest and most clutter-free our house had ever been, and I realized that I really liked it that way. I liked having clean countertops and tidy floors. It brought a greater amount of peace to our home. When we moved into our new house in February this year, I felt this was something I'd like to keep up.

I made and tried several different cleaning schedules. We were already rotating our toys before we moved, but I reduced the amount of toys in each rotation a little more. I took a few ill-fitting things out of my closet, and tried to keep papers from piling up. It helped, but I began being really bothered with something. Maybe I'm a bit of a baby when it comes to housekeeping, but I began to be really bothered by the fact that if I took even one or two days off to do something like a fun family outing or to care for my kids or myself when we got sick, the house would become disastrously messy very quickly, and I would have to spend an entire day cleaning just to catch up (more if I had missed a Friday, which is when I do all the deeper cleaning). Even just doing every day cleaning felt burdensome and too much--in order to keep my house reasonably clean (but not sparkling) took up a lot of time every day. I felt I was missing all my opportunities to be doing fun things with the kids, using all my energy and patience for attacking the dishes and floors and leaving little to none for reading to the kids, going outside with them, or even my own personal development.

At first I told myself that I should just woman up and accept it--taking a day off means working harder later when you're in the job industry, why should my home be any different? And maybe I should just be fine with messy floors and piles of dishes (Pinterest quotes like "Excuse the mess--we're making memories," and "Excuse the mess, but we live here" come to mind). As President Monson said, "If you are still in the process of raising children be aware that the tiny fingerprints that show up on almost every newly cleaned surface, the toys scattered about the house, the piles and piles of laundry to be tackled, will disappear all too soon, and that you will, to your surprise, miss them profoundly.” I know I will be in this position someday, so I should just learn to enjoy the messes...right? 

Maybe not. Lately I've been on a blog-reading, podcast-listening spree. I'm not sure what brought me to it, but I began feeling a strong urge to read every blog post on minimalism and simplicity I clap eyes on. The more I read, the more it ruminates in my brain, and the more I feel the need to purge and simplify. I don't think I could ever live as spartan a life as some minimalists do (I love the decorations on my walls and I don't think I will ever be able to give up our perfect book collection), but I have found courage and determination to really evaluate the place that each item in my home has in my life: it is supporting my goals and dreams for myself and my family? is it useful or beautiful? is it adding value to my life? I feel I can honestly say that most of our possessions fall on the "yes" side, but I was surprised at how much I could still edit out: I threw away a ton of medications, supplements, and beauty products in our bathroom, cleared out my closet again (I'm thinking there's still more to do there, however!), pared down my kids' clothing and toy rotations yet again (I've gotten a few complaints from Noah and Bethany, but they soon forget), and got rid of a bunch of kitchen items that haven't been touched since we moved in. I also reorganized my usual routine to put my personal development time and my time with kids first and my housekeeping second. I'm still working on making this a habit, but so far I've loved how much better I feel and how my house cleaner my house is!

I keep thinking about accruing experiences instead of stuff. One of my favorite joys in this world is enjoying a new experience or watching my children enjoy a new experience, and the less money and time I spend buying more stuff and having to care for it, the more time and money I'll have to give our family these new experiences. 

I think I've gotten most of my writing bug out for now. There are still a few unfinished thoughts in my brain on this topic, so I'm sure I'll revisit this soon. 

Snapshots Part 2: Random pictures and thoughts

Friends, I won't lie. This motherhood thing is tough. Just when I feel like I have a handle on balancing the kids' needs with my needs, just when I start to feel like I don't need to rely on Netflix and my iPhone to make it through the day with any semblance of sanity, my kids just laugh and say, "Just kidding! We're changing everything--again!" It can be very discouraging sometimes. Especially on mornings like this:

 

 

This was 8:47 a.m. on Monday morning, folks. 8:47 a.m., and the kids were already whiny and grouchy. It pretty much went on for most of the day.

 

Finding 20 minutes to myself to go through a quick yoga podcast doesn't sound too hard, right? Well, this is pretty much what happens when I try. So much for my relaxing "savasana" pose.



 

 

 

I'm not sure how much difference my few-and-far-between yoga practices make for my body, but apparently I'm doing it enough for Noah to catch on. He says, "o-ga" whenever I pull out my yoga mat, and knows how to find and turn on the podcasts on my phone. He even tries to copy me sometimes. 

 

 

 

I know this picture is super blurry, but seriously, can this be any cuter? I might have to get him a yoga mat of his own--he always wants to share with me when I try and use it. 

 

A friend gave us some free passes to the Discovery Gateway center, and the whole family had a blast watching Noah go from one area to the next! 

 

 

 

 

The car was his favorite!

 

 

I've been trying to think of ways to make our days run smoother. With these two young'uns being so--well--little, each day requires constant adjustment and flexibility, which is something I am not very good at most of the time. I am always looking for great ideas and tips to help us have happy days, days that fill everyone's cup. My kids need attention, love, laughter, and good nutrition. I need exercise, showers, time to read and play the piano, and a house that is not on the verge of disaster all the time. Of course it's a give and take thing, but finding that balance is hard. Here are some things that I am either currently implementing or going to implement very soon:

• quiet time instead of naptime for Noah (so far it's working great! hallelujah!)
• a daily story time (we need more books, though!)
•  exercise in the morning before the kids are awake.
• storing meals in the freezer
•  keeping up with chores by doing a little bit each day, rather than taking a huge chunk of time every once in a while
• doing more house-stuff and me-stuff in the morning, while focusing more on the kids in the afternoon. The kids are more self-entertaining right after breakfast. At least, it seems that way. It could totally change tomorrow. Flexibility, right?
• more books, less Netflix
• going to bed earlier

Sometimes, I worry that I don't do enough for my kids. I don't give them enough experiences, I don't read enough books to them, I don't take them outside enough. It's May, and Noah hasn't even been out to play in his sandbox yet. I can count the times he's played with play dough and finger-painted on one hand.

When I think of this, I start feeling like I ought to start planning glorious projects and experience-packed schedules. But then I see their smiles, their exuberance, their love for life. It is so easy to make them smile! A tickle, a silly song is all it takes, and they're happy. I have to remind myself that what Noah and Bethany need most is a safe, peaceful, happy home, a place of growth, exploration, and hugs. They need a mom who recognizes their needs any time of day, and has the energy necessary to respond. In order for this to happen, we need simple activities and easy schedules right now. We're ok with that.

 

I want to fix these faces in my mind forever. I want to enjoy my kids without worrying too much about things that don't really matter.

They matter. So much. I can't imagine life without them.

 

 

I want to remember this time, these tender days of early motherhood. I want to remember that it is really hard to be a young mom. I also want to remember that it is rewarding beyond belief. I want to remember these days so much that, halfway through writing this post, I held a very squirmy Bethany and typed with one hand, desperate to preserve the feelings in my heart. 

 

Today I read a poem by William Blake that touched me:

When the voices of children are heard on the green,

And laughing is heard on the hill,

My heart is at rest within my breast,

And everything else is still.

 

(Nurse's song, st. 1)

 

I love those words. I let myself stress too often over transient things, I become overwhelmed too easily by silly problems. I hope I can learn to let my heart rest more, let myself bask more in Noah and Bethany's joy as I watch my children grow and play each day. 

Snapshots: A Celebration of Real Motherhood

This morning I had a brilliant idea to photograph and write about as many little moments from our day as possible--the good, the bad, and the crazy ones--and make them in to a blog post. I didn't take as many pictures as I wanted, but I captured the important ones. It wasn't until the end of the day, though, that I realized that I didn't get very many pictures of Bethany (oops!) so maybe I'll try this again and focus more on her.

I'm calling this "a celebration of real motherhood" because I often give too much glory to the moms I see on Pinterest--the bikini-body-after-having-five-kids-moms, the DIY-Pottery-Barn-House-moms, and the I-make-everything-from-scratch-moms. I compare the worst sides of my house, my kids, my cooking, my clothes, even my body to the best things I see on the internet, things I don't and can't have and do right now, causing me to forget the generous amount of beauty that already exists in my life. 99% of the time, a mother's life is not Pinterest-perfect, nor should it be. Moms spend a lot of time doing things that are fairly mundane and repetitive. But hidden within our daily labors are precious little moments that should never be forgotten--moments that make it all worthwhile. I believe that both the mundane and the precious moments deserve celebrating every once in a while, which is why I'm writing today. Enough explaining. On to my account of our day.

8:15 am: Noah and I are sitting down to eat breakfast together. Bethany is playing in her bouncer. I start cleaning our breakfast mess.

8:42: Just as I'm turning to do the dishes, Noah randomly starts puking on the kitchen floor. No idea what caused it. When it's all over, Noah starts crying because he wants to be held, and Bethany starts crying because she's tired. But there's puke on the floor. All over the place. What's a mom to do? I clean it up and try to comfort both kids at the same time.

9:45 Bethany wakes up from her first nap, and we have story time. Noah and I choose 6 or 7 books (some short, some long) and settle down on the couch to read. Of course, both kids clamor to be held. Luckily, they're still little enough to squeeze on to my lap. I don't know what I'll do when they get bigger.

{note--this picture isn't from today. This was another story time that took place a few months ago. My arms were too full of kids and books to pull out my phone to take a picture of this moment today.}

 

 

10:30 Snack time! This picture actually marks an important moment in Noah's life. See that cup he's avidly drinking from? That, my friends, is cow's milk! The supposed dairy allergy is out, and we've been earnestly trying to get Noah to like cow's milk. It tastes so different from the rice milk and coconut milk he's used to drinking, so he hasn't exactly taken to this new taste. Today was one of the few times he's been willing to drink it (with the help of some strawberry Nesquick...)! Good job, Noah!

 

 

 

11:00 I put Bethany down on the bed for a few seconds. I come back to find her chewing on Daddy's (freshly washed) sock. Yummers. About five minutes later, I notice Noah cuddling with something on the bathroom floor. Is that...? Yep. A package of toilet paper. Apparently it's very comfortable. 

 

 

 

 



12:00 pm--Noah is again playing in the bathroom while I iron something for a craft project. His game of choice: trying on Mommy's necklaces.

 



 

 

12:30-Lunchtime. I'm trying to broaden Noah's palette a little, so today we have tomato basil pasta salad and avocado chicken salad on the menu in addition to the more-familiar cheese and hot dogs. I hope he will be interested in trying it. 

 

 

 

 

12:45-No dice. A few bites of hot dog and cheese. It seems this little boy was too tired to be patient at lunch, so we ended it early. Off to bed. 



 

 

1:50-That was a short nap.

 

 4:30-Noah is literally running around in circles while I'm trying to teach my piano students. I'm surprised my students can concentrate at all through the racket he's making.

 

 

7:00-Bethany's bed time. Diaper change, pajamas, and then nursing in the rocking chair. She's been doing this odd little humming thing today when she's nursed, and she proceeds to hum and suckle with great gusto. Noah, understanding that it's time to wind things down for the night, brings a blanket into her room and curls up with it on the floor.

 

 

7:30 Bath time for Noah. We've had a busy day--I'm exhausted by this point, and I had imagined Noah would play happily in the water while I sat and tried to find some sanity for 15 minutes. Instead, he throws a tantrum because he wants me to turn the faucet on again. How are you supposed to discipline a kid who's throwing a tantrum in the bath tub? You can't do time-out, you can't just end the bath without washing them, and you can't leave the bathroom to let them cry it out and blow off some steam. Suggestions? Anyway, I quickly washed my thrashing, screaming toddler and threw his pajamas on as quickly as I could. I had hoped to end the evening on a high note--a nice cuddle, maybe do a puzzle or something--but he wouldn't quit whining, so straight to bed he went. I tucked him in and said good night.



 There you have it--our day in a nutshell (I spared you the more unnecessary and boring parts). I hope that you enjoyed reading it, and that you feel a little bit more inspired to celebrate and cherish both the precious and the mundane in your own life! Thanks for reading!



20 Reasons Why I Can't Wait for Spring

1. I can go on walks with the kids.
2. I can start my 12-week jogging program.
3. Noah can try his hand at decorating our sidewalks with chalk.
4. I can get in and out of the car without getting snow in my shoes.
5. Flowers
6. Starting a little vegetable garden.
7. Being able to spray paint stuff outside. I have a lot of little home improvement projects I want to do!
8. When I'm having a rough day with the kids, I can take them outside and let Noah burn off some energy by running around.
9. I can dress Bethany in nothing but a onesie, and I'll be able to see and squeeze her chunky thighs all day long! (Okay, I guess that's more of a summer thing, but still!)
10. The chronic dry-skin-winter rash on my arms will finally go away!
11. We can take Noah to the zoo!
12. Going on walks with Tyler.
13. Sunlight after 6:30 p.m.
14. Short-sleeved shirts
15. Driving without risking my life on black ice
16. Having a clean, shiny car with no yucky salt residue all over it!
17. Being able to open the windows to air out the house.
18. The semi-annual Hilltop consignment sale in April, where I will buy all my kids summer clothes! It's so fun to go shopping!
19. Green grass
20. Easter!

Finding our rhythm

Bethany has been with us for almost eight weeks, and I think I'm getting the hang of things again. This week things have felt less stressful and more normal. Before Bethany was born, Noah and I had a pretty nice routine to our days (in a loose sense of the word), and we're finally settling back into that relaxing, normal rhythm.

I find that having a daily "rhythm" gives me a lot of comfort. I don't mind spending the morning washing the dishes and folding the laundry as much as I might have once. It actually feels rather therapeutic to cook and clean and even change diapers (yes, I said diapers). Is that odd? I find that the normal doctor's appointments, family dinners, and occasional trips to WalMart have given me all the escape I need lately.

One thing that I really enjoy doing each day is keeping my New Year's Resolutions. I know, I know, it's only the second week of January, but even so, I've done a pretty good job of keeping up with all those things I wrote about last week. I've been eating much healthier, and I really look forward to the time I get to spend exercising. I started using cloth diapers for Bethany a lot sooner than I thought I would, and so far I am absolutely loving it. My efforts to spend intentional time playing with Noah are paying off as well. Right now, I feel like our playtime together benefits me just as much as it does Noah, if not more. It's such a great time for me to drop all the concerns and frustrations that come with parenthood and just see life through his eyes for a little while.

It's so nice to feel all the bits and pieces of my nature and personality fitting into place. I feel whole, fresh, and happy to be alive. I can go to bed at night and honestly look forward to the day ahead of me, no matter what day of the week it will be.

Time to go take a loaf of yummy wheat bread out of the oven. Mmmmm, I'm hungry...

My 2013

I am so excited for this new year! I love the fresh, hopeful, clean-slate feeling that January brings. I feel ready to reach for my hardest goals and my loftiest dreams. I am determined to make this year the healthiest and happiest year yet! Who's with me?!?

 

There are a lot of changes Tyler and I want to make in 2013. We've decided to take every measure possible to help us achieve these goals. We started with the most basic, important step--writing it down! We did that last night. I've decided to take the next step in resolution-keeping 101 by sharing it with family and friends and enlisting your support. Below is our family mission statement for 2013. Tyler and I are going to keep this on our iPhones and hang it in our bedroom so we can always keep it fresh in our minds. What do you think of it?

 

Bailey Family Mission Statement 2013

To better prepare our family for any circumstance: Pay off our existing debt; Live debt-free and within our budgets; Complete our family’s 72-hour kit; Create a regular fund for 3-month food storage; Eat out only on special, pre-planned occasions.

To enjoy and care for our God-given bodies: Exercise regularly (at least 3 times a week) throughout the whole year; Eat processed foods and sugars sparingly; Use Bountiful Baskets and the Food Co-op to encourage healthy, clean eating habits.

To strengthen our family relationships: Hold a weekly Family Home Evening; Spend 30 minutes a day playing with Noah and Bethany; Limit television-watching to 1 show a night; Go on at least 2 dates a month.

Apart from our family goals, I have a few personal goals for myself. I want to:

-Lose 25 pounds by June 1st. Sadly, this is the same amount of weight I had leftover to lose after my first pregnancy. It was my intention to do better the second time around, but I kind of lost steam in the last trimester and ate whatever and however much I wanted...oops! On the bright side, I've already lost 25 pounds once, so I feel pretty confident that I can do it again!

-Eat absolutely no sweets or treats in January. No chocolate. No ice cream. No cake. Nada. Folks, I am addicted to yummy, sweet things, and it's becoming a problem! So if you see me reaching for a cookie or a Snickers anytime in January, STOP ME! After January, Tyler and I are thinking about establishing certain days each month that we are allowed to eat a treat (holidays, birthdays, that kind of thing). Right now, though, I'm not thinking beyond January. Baby steps first.

-Complete this running program I found on pinterest. I am just waiting for my 6 week postpartum checkup to get my "official" exercise clearance and then I am lacing up my running shoes! 

healthy-living.global-endeavor.com

-Run a 5k. I'm shooting for end of June, before it gets too hot.

-Take another summer class from George Wythe University. I took a course on William James' work on psychology last year and it was a blast!

-Do all of the projects on my 2013 Bucket List pinterest board. I'm really excited for this one! I think my first projects will be the vinegar produce spray and the laundry detergent.

-Spend at least 30 minutes each day just focusing on Noah. You'd think this would be easier, considering I am home all day, every day. But even with no car and no places to go, it's amazing how much effort it takes to stop my googling, facebooking, reading, and house-keeping stuff and just focus on him for longer than five minutes. But he needs me. He needs me to look in his eyes, to converse with him, to show him how to build with blocks and put puzzles together. I think he's been having a harder time adjusting to our new family life with Bethany than we've realized. He gets really sensitive and clingy at times in the late afternoons and early evenings when he wakes up from his nap. So my plan is to spend a good chunk of these grouchy times helping Noah do fun, new things--coloring, fingerpainting, playing with his new sensory tubs, building with blocks, doing puzzles, reading stories, and all that fun stuff. I love my little guy, and I hope that these special mommy-and-me times will help him feel more like his secure, good-natured self!  

-Read a long picture book to Noah every day. I'm kind of including this outside of the 30-minute playtime. We read lots of board books (I've got Mr. Brown Can Moo and But Not the Hippopatumus memorized like the back of my hand), but it's harder to get him interested in reading longer stories. He always wants to get up and run away after the first two pages! But even if he doesn't sit still for any of it, I'm still going to read one longer story every day.

-Start using cloth diapers. I've actually wanted to do this for a long time, but we've lacked the funds to make that initial investment. I'm going to be bringing in a bit of extra money from teaching piano lessons, though, so I think I'm going to use some of that in the next few months to buy what we need. I'm going with these Flip Diapers. I'm super excited for the money-saving benefits, and for no more blowouts (Bethany has at least one a day right now)!

There you have it, friends! My 2013 Resolutions!

 

 

 

 

Bethany's Birth Story

Wow! It's almost Christmas, Noah is 18 months old, and Bethany is finally here!!! Actually, she's been here for a month now. And it's been fantastic! I love having a baby in the house again! I know there are so many other details about our lives that I could (and should) write about, but today I'm just going to focus on Bethany's birth.

Sunday, November 18th, was my due date. That afternoon, as I sat in church, I had a few contractions that felt different from the usual Braxton Hicks. They were sharper, and they wrapped around my whole lower back and abdomen, instead of coming just in front. They weren't anything to pay serious attention to, so I went on with my day and didn't say anything. About two hours later we were driving out to Tyler's parents' house for Sunday dinner. I noticed the funny contractions again, and mentioned it to Tyler. By the time we got to my in-laws' house, I was starting to feel like this might be the beginning of labor. Not wanting the contractions to go away, we left Noah with Cort and ElLois and took a walk around their neighborhood. It was very cold outside, but I didn't mind. I was excited that our baby might be coming soon, and I sincerely hoped all that walking would encourage my body to keep those contractions coming!

We only stayed at my in-laws' house for about an hour before I decided we needed to go home. The contractions continued all the way home, and I whipped out my handy-dandy iPhone contraction timer app to see how far apart they were. If I remember correctly, they were about 5-7 minutes apart and lasting for about 50 seconds, and definitely different from Braxton-Hicks.

Once we got home, they seemed to slow down a little bit and came a little less regularly. We went to bed and tried to act like everything was normal, just in case nothing came of it after all. Thankfully, normal was not in the cards for us that night! My contractions woke me up at about 1:30 am, and they were definitely getting stronger and more regular. I woke Tyler up to tell him, and he advised me to try to go back to sleep. I tried for another hour and a half to sleep, but was unsuccessful. After timing my contractions for a little while longer, I got up to get a snack. I was starving! I got some applesauce and some toast, but as soon as I ate a little, my appetite went completely away. I started feeling a little nauseous, and my bowels started moving quite efficiently (how's that for putting things delicately, eh?).

I decided that taking a bath would help relax my body and my nerves. I stayed in the tub for an hour or so, timing contractions and reading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. At this point, my contractions were about five minutes apart and lasting for about a minute, and I had to start concentrate to relax through each one. I called the midwife at the hospital to tell her what was going on, and she advised us to come within the next hour and a half. I woke Tyler up and told him to start getting things together to to go the hospital. I didn't feel the need to rush, so we took things slowly and calmly.

About 30 minutes later, I realized that we needed to leave for the hospital ASAP! I couldn't talk through contractions anymore, and they had really started to hurt. The center of the pain was right in my lower back, and I asked Tyler to come and push on it when each wave came. We got Noah up and got our bags in the car, and by 6:10 we were on our way to the hospital. It was a 40 minute drive to the hospital, and I wished that we had left an hour before we did. Each contraction was getting harder and harder to handle, and during that car ride, things intensified really quickly. The only way I could keep my body relaxed was to sort of hum and moan through each wave of pressure.

By the time we handed Noah off to my father-in-law in the parking lot and got into the L&D lobby at 7:00, I was really having a hard time. It was all I could do just to remain standing as we checked in. They got us into a room very quickly, and I changed into a long, grey nightshirt that I had picked up at the DI (last time I had to wear the hospital gowns and I HATED it!). The nurse, Cathie, checked me and told me I was 8 centimeters dilated. I felt so relieved and elated! I was terrified that she would tell me I was only at a 4, and even my best-case-scenario thoughts  imgined I was only at a 6. Without saying another word, the nurse zoomed out of the room to see if the midwife was there. Since everyone was in the middle of shift change, the midwife I had spoken to was already gone, and the new midwife was 30 minutes away. Cathie got a resident doctor to be on standby, and she came back to get my IV for antibiotics started (I was strep positive). About five minutes later, I told the nurse I felt like I needed to push. The nurse checked me again, and told me I was at a 9. Since the midwife wasn't there yet, she said I could push "a little" to make me feel better. Any woman who's given birth naturally knows there's no such thing as pushing "a little" when your body is truly ready to push. I tried pushing and my body completely took over, pushing harder and longer than I even imagined possible. Just as the resident doctor was getting ready to come and break my water, the midwife, Martie, ran in and started coaching me through my contractions. Three contractions later, my water broke as I was pushing and the baby really started moving down. Martie and Cathie did such a great job coaching me through this pushing stage. I was not a very calm and quiet laboring mother, that's for sure! The contractions were so very intense that the moaning and humming had long given way to a very loud groan that was closer to yelling than anything else. As I pushed and the pain intensified, my groans started getting higher in pitch, and it took a lot of reminders from the nurse and midwife to keep it in a lower octave. Apparently, when I let my voice get higher, it tightened my vagina. Keeping my voice low allowed my vagina to remain relaxed as the baby descended.

It seemed like the "ring of fire" stage lasted forever. For a few minutes, I felt like I couldn't do it anymore and that the pain would never go away. But Tyler, Cathie, and Martie gave me lots and lots of encouragement, and I kept pushing. After only 20 minutes of pushing, Bethany Elise Bailey emerged at 7:55 am, and Martie put her right on my chest. I couldn't believe it was all over and Bethany was here at last!

That hour after Bethany was born was completely opposite from Noah's first hour. Because there had been some minor complications with Noah's birth, they had to whisk him right away after I had only held him for a few moments. They had cut the cord immediately and started doing his assessments quickly. The room was full of nurses and lights and talking. When Bethany was born, the room was completely devoid of rush and worry. It was just us, Cathie, Martie, and maybe one other nurse. Everything was just as it should be. I held and tried to nurse her for a good 20 minutes before anyone talked of taking her anywhere. When I was good and ready, the nurse did her assessments and gave her right back to us. Everything was calm and peaceful. In fact, the only uncomfortable thing that was going on was the attention Cathie and Martie had to give to my body. Just as with Noah's birth, I came close to hemorraging, and I needed medicine right away to stop it. I also had a 2nd-degree tear which took a while to stitch up. Nevertheless, it was wonderful to be alert, with no epidural to restrict my movements, and to have Tyler and my baby right there with me the whole time.

My recovery was a hundred times better this time around, thanks to the lack of drugs. Last time I felt like a train had hit my body, and it took two full days before I was strong enough to walk around comfortably. This time, I was able to get up and go to the bathroom a few short hours after giving birth, and by that evening I could stand up long enough to shower and make myself look presentable for my parents and Tyler's parents to visit us. I was definitely on a birth-high, and I felt happy, energetic, and pleasant. In short, everything that I had wanted for this birth came true. It was intense, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle with the great support that Tyler, Martie, and Cathie gave me.

 

I love my dear, sweet Bethany. She is such a blessing to our family, and I am excited to see her little personality take flight and grow. I hope I am being a good mother to her and Noah. Motherhood is definitely a challenge, but it is also a joyful privilege. I am so thankful for two healthy, beautiful babies and for my wonderful husband. Family means everything to me, and I feel so blessed by my Father in Heaven because of the beautiful people that share their lives with me!

Counting our blessings

Phew. Things are finally starting to get back to normal around here. And I feel so relieved and so glad! To briefly bring the story of our summer up to speed, we finally got an appointment with a gastroenterologist at Primary Children's last week. The doctor was very thorough in making sure that he had every detail of our story correct before offering any judgement, which was a huge comfort to me (I didn't feel like that was the case with our previous gastroenterologist). We came up with a game plan to help Noah start eating better, and Dr. Varier seemed confident that we could easily and quickly get him back on track. They did one more stool test and the results were--negative! The clostridium difficile was completely gone! Tyler and I both felt like a huge weight had fallen off our shoulders when we heard the news. We eagerly turned our attention to implementing the eating strategies that would encourage Noah to have a better relationship with food.

Dr. Varier gave us two different options to try at mealtimes, and the first one didn't work all. Instead of giving him his special Elecare shake with every meal and snack, we tried reserving the drink for snacktimes and just before bedtime, and serving food only at mealtimes. The theory behind this was that by withholding food and drink until specific times, Noah's hunger and thirst would build up enough that by the next meal or snacktime, he would eagerly dive into the food (at mealtime) or drink (at snacktime) and increase his intake. We tried this for four days without seeing any change at all in Noah's willingness to eat. We decided to switch to Plan B.

Plan B was to simply offer Noah his food first, and give him the drink only at the end of a meal or snack. We saw changes almost immediately, and by the end of the third day, Noah had increased his overall intake to about 100 calories per each meal and snack (before it was more like 25 to 50). It has continued to increase every day, and I can't tell you how thankful and happy I am to see him become invested in his meals again!

We've also had to really change our approach to mealtimes. Over the last month, Noah had developed a really negative attitude about meals and snacks, particularly when it came to sitting in his highchair. He became impatient and started throwing tantrums (and food) for no apparent reason--even if he had appeared to be enjoying his meal 30 seconds before. I'm sure many, many moms have experienced this before, and that his behavior is perfectly normal for a toddler his age. That, combined with his little drink "addiction," had been making meal times even more difficult and discouraging. I have a bad habit of getting wound up when Noah's wound up, so I really had to work hard to make myself relax even when Noah starts throwing food and crying. Tyler's much better at it than I am!

Our dietician also said that making mealtimes a social experience for him was important also, and so we've really been trying to sit down and eat with him. It's so tempting to use the few minutes of high-chair-containment to do dishes and sweep and other household tasks, but I've found that sitting down with Noah and giving him direct attention while we're eating has helped his patience increase tremendously. It took a few weeks of doing this regularly before we started seeing results, but I think that our efforts to make mealtimes a relaxing and pleasant social experience, as well as our little plan of giving him his drink at the end of a meal, have really paid off, and will continue to help Noah eat more (and get fatter!).

Now that it seems we've got the most of this mountain behind us, I've had a lot of time to reflect on the changes that are quickly approaching. Our second baby is due on November 18th, and I can't believe how quickly that is coming up! I feel like this pregnancy has flown by so fast. Sometimes I feel like a deer in a headlight when I think about how soon this pregnancy will come to an end, and how much our lives will change. Often, I feel apprehensive about how Noah will feel when he sees me holding her all the time and giving her so much physical attention. I don't want him to feel sad or replaced, but Tyler keeps assuring me that he will adjust and that he'll be just as happy as always. But mostly I just feel happy. I am so excited to meet our little Bethany!

 

I've moved into a bit of a nesting stage lately, and I've spent a lot of time doing housework. I don't think I've ever been so on top of the laundry piles and the dishes in my life! (Don't get too used to it, Tyler, because once this baby's here, that's all going to change...)

I'm also using these next few weeks to just enjoy Noah and Tyler and the little life we lead together. Noah is learning to do and say so many things, and I just feel fascinated whenever I stop to watch him play and talk. He loves wearing his shoes, exploring outside, and laughing. He's also developed a keen interest in finding special places for him to sit down--the bottom of a bookshelf, the bottom of the stairs, and any chair he can manage to climb up on. Once we came across a small plastic chair in a consignment store, and he was so upset when I made him get out of it so we could leave! I think I foresee a special table and chairs under the tree for Noah this Christmas...

 

 

 

I love fall. It's such a perfect time to sit back and just drink the good things of the world into your heart. That's exactly how I intend to spend these next four and a half weeks. As always, thanks for reading. 

The Battle Rages On

Poor blog...you must feel so neglected! Life has been crazy, to say the very least, since I last posted. And Noah's c. diff is still not gone. The whole world is probably sick of hearing the things I've been posting about Noah's battle over the last three months, but that's ok. I'm mostly writing about all of this for my own benefit, because I think certain experiences are important to remember.

So, to pick up where we left off last time, Noah was on a new medication and accepting the recommended quota of the formula the doctor gave us. We were seeing great results from the medicine, and Noah's appetite started to normalize. He completed the 10-day course of antibiotics, and we started giving him lots of high-quality probiotics to encourage healthy bacteria to grow again. We held our breath as we waited for a week to pass before doing another lab test to see the results. But on the fifth day after we stopped the medication, Noah started having major diarrhea again. Obviously, that nasty bacteria had not been killed. We knew before that there was a good possibility this could happen, so we quickly got a test sent off to the lab to confirm the presence of c. diff and got Noah started on a new round of the antibiotic. This time, we thought, this time for sure we will beat this.

Noah's appetite, in the meantime, took a turn for the worse. I'm not entirely sure if this happened because he felt sick, or if he just fell into a habit, or what--but Noah started to refuse almost all solid food in favor of this formula-smoothie-shake thing--the same shake that had originally saved us from possibly putting Noah on a feeding tube. Does anyone else see a remarkable amount of irony here? In the middle of August, I was depressed and worried about getting Noah to drink enough. By the beginning of September, the situation had turned completely around into a new, scary monster that I could never have predicted--getting Noah to eat. Not just eat more vegetables, or eat enough calorie-dense foods. Just eat. And he wouldn't do it. The formula won out every time, no matter what we put in front of him.

This worried and scared me out of my mind. Just a few short weeks ago, my baby's appetite had been ravenous and eager. Noah's interest in food quickly shrank and shrank, until he was eating, on average, about 5-10 bites of food (translating into roughly 25-50 calories) per meal. Sometimes, it wasn't even that much. I called our dietician for advice, and she reassured me that, through the formula-shakes, he was getting enough calories to sustain his weight and energy. She said that trying to force him to change would not be a healthy choice right now, since he was still sick with c. diff. I felt a little more optimistic that things would start working themselves out after that phone call.

However, things did not start to work out. Noah finished his 2nd round of antibiotics, and we waited a few days before doing another stool test. The fifth day passed, and the sixth, and the seventh--we saw no symptoms of a relapse, and Tyler and I felt so hopeful that this was over. When the results of Noah's test came in, the doctor called to say that, despite the lack of symptoms, the bacteria had not been killed. Noah would need to have another round of antibiotics. This time, though, he said that he wanted to try a different one, an antibiotic originally designed to treat--of all things--traveler's diarrhea. Tyler and I were not convinced that this medicine was going to help our son. In fact, when Tyler picked up the medicine, he asked the doctor, in a very straightforward way, if this medicine would work. The doctor essentially said that he had no idea, and that he was just having us try it because he didn't know what else to do.

We knew, at that point, that it was time to find another doctor. I called Primary Children's Hospital to get us an appointment with one of their gastroenterologists, only to find that they were very booked out and that the best I could do was set an appointment for November and put Noah's name on a wait list, in case there was a cancellation. That was two weeks ago. We're still waiting. But our pediatrician is using her influence to help us get in to Primary's sooner, and I have high hopes that we will be able to get in on Thursday or Friday.

Noah became ill with c. difficile nearly three and a half months ago. It was diagnosed two months ago. We've been through 4 different medications. Noah has not eaten a normal-sized meal for a full month. We've been to the emergency room, we've been threatened with feeding tubes, we've had to buy ridiculously expensive formula to whiz into his smoothies, and we're still waiting for the help we need to end this, once and for all. Most of the time, I try to pretend that all of this is "normal": I make the smoothies, I call the doctor, I take him in for lab tests, I shove medicine that probably won't work down his throat 4 times a day as he squirms and cries, I put miniscule amounts of food on his plate and, more often than not, wash 50% of it down the drain. And then, some nights, I stop long enough to think about it, and a very loud voice in my head yells that this is NOT normal, my little boy is NOT healthy, this is NOT ok--and I can't help but break down. And the only way I can pull myself back together is to put the facade back up and tell myself that this, for now, must be normal. It has to be.

My only solace, through all of the crazy, unforseeable twists and turns our lives have taken over the last three months, is that Noah, bless his heart, isn't old enough to be distressed by any of this. He has as much energy, as many smiles, as much laughter, as much intelligence and playfulness as ever. This helps my ability to be happy and optimistic tremendously.

The next time I post, I very much hope that it will be to share the good news of Noah's full recovery. The Lord has blessed us in many ways, especially in the wondefully supportive family and friends He's given us, and I have faith that our "normal" will be back to what it should be very soon.

Master, the Tempest is Raging

Master, the tempest is raging,

The billows are tossing high!

The sky is o'ershadowed with blackness,

No shelter nor help is nigh.

After Noah's diagnosis with c. difficile a week and a half ago, we've tried three seperate medications. The first one, Flagyll, made him horribly sick, and he wasn't able to hold anything down all day. My poor baby laid on the couch almost all day with me, refusing to engage in even the most gentle play, refusing even Pedialyte and popsicles. I'd never seen him like that before, and before the day was out, I knew he could not continue on this medication. So our doctor called in another prescription, one that is not commonly successful with treating c. diff but much gentler on the body. The vomiting stopped, but the new medication still affected his appetite enough that he showed no interest in eating all his familiar, favorite foods. The only food we could consistently get him to eat was Cheerios, and the only drink he would readily accept was water. Further, the medication did not produce any results, even after a week of trying it.

When our pediatrician heard my report about his appetite, she insisted that we get him eating some higher-calorie foods, worried that the lack of nutrition would impede his recovery. I tried pushing him to eat some of his favorite fatty foods--avacados, chocolate rice milk mixed with coconut cream, and wheat bread spread with sunbutter. Whenever we presented these foods to him, he would mostly pick a little at them and then reject them completely. All our coaxing and all the healthy options we tried to present him with only won out about half of the time. He won the other half, and he got his Cheerios.

We got his medication switched again, and this time we started seeing results almost instantly. His appetite improved, though he was still extremely picky and resistant to the higher-calorie foods. Our pediatrician became worried enough that she decided to call the gastroenterologist himself, and they decided that we should try Elecare and Neocate, two formulas designed for children who have suffered severe trauma to their digestive system and are unable to process food correctly. On the plus side, these drinks are high-calorie and easy to digest. On the downside, they taste awful, despite the manufacturer's effort to make them more palatable with flavors such as tropical and chocolate.

So I went to the doctor's office on Tuesday to pick up a bunch of samples of this formula. While I was there, they basically told me that I needed to get Noah to drink 20 ounces of this formula daily, or else we would need to put him on a feeding tube. They gave us a rough deadline of two days to meet this goal. Suddenly, the main issues at stake changed from Noah's battle with c. difficile to Noah's failure to eat enough and gain weight.

I left their office with a heavy, worried heart. Noah doesn't even drink that much water--his current beverage of choice--on a daily basis. And lately he's become more and more resistant to accepting new drinks, even if he likes the flavor well enough. How was I supposed to get him to drink 20 ounces of some nasty, chalky formula?

However, the thought of putting him on a feeding tube scared me to death. So we started giving it our best shot. I offered him the drinks every chance I got, and always kept his cup close at hand. We tried buying new cups, hoping that the novelty would help him accept the drink. We even tried mixing the formula in a very thick, concentrated amount and giving it to him via syringe. Noah met each new effort with the most stubborn resistance. At best, he would take sips of the beverage here and there, and then lose interest completely. He began resisting the syringe violently, even when it was the new medicine, which he happened to like. Meanwhile, our two days were flying out from under us.



Carest Thou not that we perish?

How canst Thou lie asleep

When each moment so madly is threat'ning

A grave in the angry deep?

Tyler took the day off work yesterday to give me a break, and I enjoyed a quiet afternoon in Salt Lake shopping and trying not to think about the imminence of Noah having a feeding tube. I'd hoped that Tyler could do a better job of convincing Noah to drink while I was away, but when I came home, I found that nothing had improved.

I won't try describing the emotional journey I went through last night. Putting your child on a feeding tube is far from the end of the world, but when you start thinking about all the implications--the discomfort it causes the child, the daunting task of learning to put it in and take it out, weaning the child off of it when it is no longer needed--it becomes a very scary thing. The more Tyler and I thought about the prospect, the more we noticed the gaps in our doctors' reasoning behind the feeding tube, and the more we realized that they might not have enough information to make this decision correctly. We knew that before we put Noah on a feeding tube, we needed to sit down with our doctors and have them explain all their reasons for thinking it is necessary, and we needed to be convinced that they were right. If they couldn't convince us, then we would seek another doctor's opinion. I decided that if Noah hadn't magically decided to love drinking the stuff by tomorrow afternoon, I would call and set an appointment to discuss our questions with our doctor.

As I tried to go to sleep, exhausted from a lot of crying and worrying, I thought about the formula, thought about all our prayers and efforts to get him to drink it. I said in my mind to Heavenly Father, "There is nothing more that I can do. I've tried everything I can think of. We need you to take over." 

Master, with anguish of spirit

I bow in my grief today.

The depths of my sad heart are troubled.

Oh, waken and save, I pray!

Torrents of sin and of anguish

Sweep o'er my sinking soul.

And I perish! I perish! dear Master.

Oh, hasten and take control!

This morning, before I even got out of bed, I knew that there was one more possibility. I remembered that there used to be another drink that Noah would chug down as eagerly as if it were water, something I hadn't made in a long time. Before Noah got sick with c. difficile, I used to make him "green drinks," smoothies made out of spinach leaves, bananas, juice concentrate, ice, and water. I stopped because I was worried that the juice concentrate would make the diarrhea worse. However, I thought that maybe if I tried mixing up the formula in the style of a green smoothie, he might accept it more readily.

We didn't have spinach, but we had the rest of the ingredients. I dumped a bunch of formula in the blender cup with a banana and lots of juice concentrate. I whizzed it up and poured it in Noah's cup at breakfast. He didn't touch it, didn't show any interest in trying it whatsoever. I felt my hope slowly evaporating as Tyler left for work.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Noah realized that the cup was there. He picked it up and drank. He drank for a long time. He put it down, and then picked it up to drink some more. I could see that several ounces were gone from his cup, gone within a matter of seconds. I could hardly believe my eyes--yesterday, convincing Noah to drink that much would take an entire afternoon.

His interest in the drink, though sporadic, was enough that he had finished the entire cup by noon. I quickly whizzed up another batch and offered it to him before putting him down for his nap. This brings us to the current moment--Noah is still napping, and I have a newfound hope. He's already had a quarter of the formula that he needs for today, according to the doctor's recommendations. Again, this is much, much more than every bit of formula that he has drunk willingly over the last two days put together. I feel optimistic that we can get him to drink at least two more cupfuls, which will put us close to that 20 ounce mark.

Even if that doesn't happen, and even if our doctors are still pushing for a feeding tube, I feel much better about things now. I feel like my idea about the green smoothie was a gift from heaven, a merciful gift that is the start of everything really getting better. I feel calmer with the realization that it is perfectly within our rights as parents to ask to sit down with our doctors and make sure they have all the information they need to really make a good judgement about this issue, and that we have all the information we need to feel that their judgement is, indeed, correct. This has been an exhausting, scary process, and it's not over yet. But the tempest is, at least for now, gone.

Master, the terror is over.

The elements sweetly rest.

Earth's sun in the calm lake is mirrored,

And heaven's within my breast.

Linger, O blessed Redeemer!

Leave me alone no more,

And with joy I shall make the blest harbor,

And rest on the blissful shore.

The winds and the waves shall obey Thy will:

Peace, be still; peace, be still.

Whether the wrath of the storm-toss'd sea

Or demons or men or whatever it be,

No water can swallow the ship where lies

The Master of ocean and earth and skies.

They all shall sweetly obey Thy will:

Peace, be still; peace, be still.

They all shall sweetly obey Thy will:

Peace, peace, be still.

Master, the Tempest is Raging:

written by Mary Ann Baker,

as found in the LDS hymnbook.



The night is darkest just before the dawn

Before I launch in to today's story, let me just say that I'm not writing about all of these things because I want to be a Sally Sob Story. A big part of my reason for writing this blog is to be better at journaling. These last few weeks have been difficult, and I've learned a lot as a result. I'm writing this stuff down partly so that I can remember it and continue to learn from it. Thanks for putting up with me!

So, to start where we left off last time: Noah's wheat allergy test came back negative!!!! His reaction to wheat on the blood test was only slightly elevated--definitely not enough to be causing all those poopy diapers, and not enough to start buying gluten-free bread. Naturally, I was relieved that he doesn't have a wheat allergy, but that still left us with no answers about what was making Noah's body so sick.

The next step that our pediatrician advised us to take was to see a gastroenterologist. I took the first available appointment, and on Thursday morning I got both of us up early and drove in to Salt Lake to see what they would have to say. I met with their nurse practitioner, and we discussed the possibility of Celiac Disease based on certain things that made him a candidate. She ordered a blood test for it, but she thought that a bacteria called Clostridium Difficile (c. diff) was more likely to be responsible, and ordered a test for that as well. All of the antibiotics that Noah took for his ear infections killed all the good bacteria and thereby gave this c. diff. bacteria--normally dormant in most people--an opportunity to grow, eventually growing enough to cause this nasty diarrhea that has been plaguing Noah for over a month now. So we went to their lab, got the tests done, and went home to wait for the results to come on Monday.

As if all of this--the blood tests, the possibility of Celiac disease, bad diaper rashes, and Noah's increasingly poor and picky appetite--weren't wreaking enough emotional havoc in our lives, Noah had a rare complication from the month of constant diarrhea on Sunday morning. I was alone with Noah when it started, and I had no idea what to do about it. I'm not going to go into details here, because it really was an unpleasant business. All I'm going to say is that it was NOT life-threatening (thank goodness), but it was still scary, it put Noah in a lot of pain, and it was all very upsetting. After trying to handle it myself (with the help of my mom and mother-in-law over the phone--thanks, moms!), I called Tyler home from his church meetings and started trying to decide how we were going to make this better. It was evident that we couldn't deal with this problem on our own, but it also happened to be Sunday--a day that our normal pediatricians' offices aren't open. And, from our internet research about this particular issue, it appeared to be rare enough that your average pediatric Instacare wouldn't know how to handle it. We decided to give the Kid's Instacare a try anyway, and drove 40 minutes in order to get to a location that opened an hour sooner than our local one. Although the nice nurses and doctors at the Instacare recognized that this problem was not life-threatening, they didn't know how to handle it and told us that we either needed to take him to the ER at Primary Children's, or wait until our normal doctor's offices opened on Monday.

We didn't want Noah to have to suffer any longer, so we decided to go to the ER. Not only did they show us how to handle the problem and gave us pain meds to make it easier on Noah, they also had the results of the c. diff test, and told us that it was positive. The gastroenterologist on call--who also happened to be from the same office as the gastro nurse practitioner we saw last week--gave us the prescription we needed to start treating the c. diff, and since the hospital's pharmacy was open on Sunday, we were able to fill it right away and start giving it to him.

Even though it took a trip to the ER to get it, I felt very relieved that we finally know what's been causing Noah's illness a day early, and that we could get the medicine to treat it right away. A phone call to the gastroenterologist's office this morning confirmed that he does not have Celiac disease, and that it's just this nasty, stubborn bacteria that's making him sick.

Unfortunately, things still aren't simple and easy. This c. diff bacteria is very hard to get rid of, so Noah's road to perfect health may be long, and we might need to try several medications before we get there. The medicine that Noah is currently taking makes him nauseous, and while I'm hoping that his body will adjust to it and that the vomiting won't reach a severe level, we might need an anti-nausea medication to counter it.

Despite the many, many roadblocks we've encountered in this process, I'm so glad that we finally have answers. We know why this illness started, we know how to treat it and how to prevent it in the future, we know that he is not allergic to wheat and that he does not have Celiac Disease. Most of all, we know that he will soon be back to his normal, healthy self very soon.

Especially over this last weekend, I've been reflecting on the steep, steep learning-curve the first year of my motherhood has given me. I've become acquainted with the worlds of ear-infections and food allergies. I've learned creative ways to help pack some pounds on an underweight child who is allergic to dairy. I've learned the importance of taking a good probiotic after taking antibiotics for a long time (VERY important, folks!). I've learned that I can deal with things I never thought I could handle--things I never wanted to handle.

More importantly, I've learned how to enjoy my son. I've found a wealth of joy in the way he wrinkles his nose and sets his lips, the way he cuddles with stuffed animals and romps right before bedtime, the way he loves to look at books and carry my purses around. My child's vitality and curiosity and smiles enrich my life and causes me to say that I am truly blessed. I thank the Lord every day for a life so full of joy and love.

I wish I could say things were better

I posted a few weeks ago about how Noah has been having digestion issues. Without going into too much detail, let's just say that I've been changing an average of 6-10 poopy diapers A DAY. After a lot of troubleshooting, a round of expensive medication, two bottles of diaper rash cream, and multiple conversations with our pediatrician, dietician, allergist, and my mother-in-law (a NP), nothing has changed. It's been over a full month since this started, and we are getting desperate for an answer.

Fortunately for Noah, a bad diaper rash marks the extent of his suffering--to all outside appearances, he's a perfectly healthy, normal little boy. This is the one good spot I can be thankful for during this whole experience--that he hasn't felt or appeared to be sick. His oblivious cheerfulness makes everything easier to handle.

After trying all of the normal solutions, it's time to move into deeper testing. Today, we're going in to have his blood tested for wheat and corn allergies. We tested a few months ago for dairy, eggs, and peanuts, but we didn't test for wheat and corn since I had not yet seen any signs of a problem with these foods. Noah's been eating things like bread and graham crackers since he was 6 months old, and this is the first time I've ever suspected that there might be a problem with it. Now that this issue has gone on so long, though, I can't think of anything else it could be.

The thought that Noah is probably allergic to wheat has been extremely hard for me to handle. Is it silly to be so worried about this? I mean, it's just food, right? It's not like death or war or a hurricane or cancer. And there are so many resources for people with allergies today. Being allergic to major food staples like dairy, eggs, and wheat doesn't mean the same thing that it did for people 20 years ago. Alternative foods and ingredients are very accessible today, and I'm grateful for that.

Nevertheless, it's been really hard for me to put a positive spin on this. How is Noah going to feel, as he gets older, when he sees other people enjoying birthday cake and sandwiches and pasta and McDonald's Happy Meals and pizza and ice cream? How hard will it be to teach him not to eat these foods when he's out on his own? How can I teach him that things like this don't matter, when it matters so ridiculously much to me?

I've only been able to come up with three answers so far: First, I need to find a way to let go of it all. I LOVE cookies, and whole wheat bread, and french toast, and breadsticks, and pizza, and spaghetti. But in order for me to emotionally handle the fact that Noah can't have these things in conventional forms, I need to change my attitude about them. Spaghetti can be just as yummy with rice noodles. Wheat-free, egg-free, dairy-free cookies and brownies can be just as delectable and enjoyable. And skipping out on the cake and ice cream at family birthday parties doesn't have to take all the fun out of it. In order to raise a child who is not emotionally upset by all the things he can't have, I need to find a way to erase my own emotional attachments.

Second, I need to stop thinking about all the things Noah can't have and focus on the things he can have. Ice cream made with coconut milk, for example. Corn chips and guacamole. Otter Pops. Potato chips. Popcorn. Maybe whenever I'm tempted to list all the can'ts, I should habitually list all of the cans instead.

Third, I need to remember that the important thing here is that Noah is healthy and happy. As long as he doesn't eat these few foods, he will be perfectly healthy. And as long as he is surrounded by loving family, friends, and given lots of opportunties to expore and learn and play, he will be perfectly happy.

Well, that's all I have time for right now. There's another poopy diaper to change. And then it's off to the hospital to get this blood test done. And even though I've started to be ok with another allergy, I'm still praying and hoping and crossing my fingers that everything turns out negative!

Crazy Preggo Dreams

For the first time in my life, I think I've been having what some people might call a "recurring dream." It doesn't happen every night, and the details aren't always the same, but the pattern and the message is. I've had the dream about five times now, spread out over the course of my pregnancy. It's rather bizarre!

Since half of the reason why I'm writing this blog is for journaling purposes, I wanted to write about this dream mostly for my own sake--so I hope I don't wierd anyone out too much!

The dream usually starts out with me going into active labor. I go to the hospital--which always looks different with each new dream--and things get going. Strangely, I never remember the actual birth. My dream always skips that part, and the next thing I know, it's the next day, and I have no clue how the actual birth went. However, my body always feels fantastic, even though I've just given birth, and I start to do crazy things--like leave the hospital to run races with my sister-in-law or go to work. One time I gave birth the day before Thanksgiving (that's the week I'm actually due) and decided it would be a good idea to go to RC Willey and buy a TV the next day. I stood in the customer service line for an hour and a half, and I felt so proud of the fact that you would never know that I had just pushed a human being out of my body.

This time, I delivered my baby via C-section, at 20 weeks along (which is about where I'm at right now). In real life, I am terrified of having a c-section! I mean, I know I would survive if I ever had to have one, but I am still quite scared of the whole thing. But in my dream, I was perfectly calm and happy with it. I knew exactly why we needed the surgery, and I agreed that it was necessary. I remember up to the point where they were making the incision, and then--nothing. The next thing I remember is seeing our baby girl, dressed in adorable pink clothes and looking like she was perfectly healthy and fat, even though she was 20 weeks premature.

Again, even though I had just had a major surgery, I felt fabulous! I went back to work at my old job the next day, and I did a great job teaching and interacting with the kids. No one even asked where my baby belly went. I could feel the healing wound, but it didn't hurt at all.

By the end of the day, the memory of yesterday's events finally impact me. I just gave birth. I have a brand new baby at home, which I haven't seen all day. My body just went through a major surgery. Why am I working? I don't belong here, doing busy-people things. I belong at home, resting and bonding with my newborn. Just because my body feels energetic and carefree doesn't mean that I don't need to be doing new-mommy things. I need to go home to my baby.

These dreams always end that way--with the realization that, even though my body feels perfect and full of energy, I still need to be home, resting and taking care of the new child in my life.

I wonder what my subconscious is telling me here. Do I just want a positive birth and after-birth experience so badly that I'm creating this scenario over and over again when I sleep? Or is there a deeper meaning somewhere?