Childbirth Story from Amber Johnson

Hadley Johnson's Stork Report

On May 25, 2004, my daughter Hurricane Hadley graced the world with her presence. Her birth...and subsequent life have been a WILD ride (and I'm not just talkin' about them thar stir-ups....)

Monday, May 24th, 2004 — More than one week before Hadley's due date. Busy making final preps on our brand new house until late. Husband Jamie is incredibly stressed with projects at work and yearns to skip out. His final words to Hadley before bedtime: "If you come tomorrow, I'll buy you a car when you're 16." Daddy's final lesson before becoming a parent: be careful what you wish for. It may actually come true.

Tuesday, May 25th-1, 3, 5 and 6 a.m. — As usual, Amber waddles to the potty.

7 a.m. — Waddles to the bathroom. Discovers something unusually wet — her water possibly broke! Calls the doc who tells them to come in. Jamie rejoices about starting his two-week "vacation." The reality of his car pledge later hits him with great force.

9 a.m. — Meet with the doc. Performs various tests. Bag of waters is ruptured with a leak but is not broken. Evil woman sends Amber and Jamie home.

10 a.m. — Amber and Jamie go on long walk (a.k.a. waddle), hoping to kick things into motion. Steady leak continues but no real progress.

11:45 a.m. — Decide to grab a sandwich at Einstein Bagels. After eating, Amber blows her nose. Suddenly, the flood gates open. In very public booth #3 at Einstein's. At lunchtime. Amber hisses at Jamie to discreetly grab her some napkins to cleanup. Jamie obliges and brings back two napkins, not understanding that bag of waters is in actuality, plural. Meaning many.

12:30 p.m. — After operation "Cleanup in Booth 3," Amber casually strolls (a.k.a. waddles with soaked pants) to the Jeep. They rush to the hospital. Jamie drops her off with a grocery bag of personal items. He proceeds to park the car and bring in the suitcase.

12:45 p.m. — As Amber stealthily walks up to the nurse's station, she notes her appearance: soaked black sweats, unruly hair and a Wal-Mart bag for luggage: White Trash Incarnate. Jamie arrives with the rest of the luggage, announcing to the nurses: "Has anyone seen a strawberry-blonde with wet pants?" They chortle delightfully, later avowing his statement will go down as the funniest entrance in Birthing Center History. What a crackup.

1 p.m.-5 p.m. — Amber put on Pitocin (also known as "Pit") to induce labor. Later discovers it is actually the "pits." Light contractions begin but she can barely feel them and spends the afternoon watching Dr. Phil and Oprah with Jamie. Wonders what all those wimpy women have been whining about for centuries re: the "pains of childbirth."

5:30 p.m. — Discovers what those "wimpy women" were talking about. The hard way. Now wonders why women would knowingly choose to do this multiple times.

6 p.m. — Excruciating Pain Con't. Jamie compares Amber to Jekyl and Hyde. Cracking jokes and delightful…until the contractions hit. Jamie does a fabulous job as coach. Is instrumental in helping Amber Hyde maintain her composure.

7 p.m. — Amber's best friend Mimi the Epidural Lady arrives. About 7 excruciating contractions later than requested. Amber practices the Miracle of Forgiveness. But not until after the drug kicks in.

7:30 p.m. — Amber is a new woman and plays the waiting game until full dilation. Jamie and Amber have a delightful time talking travel with the doc and nurse. Amber ponders the mysteries of life i.e. why anyone would chose not to get an epidural. Equates it to the lunacy of climbing Everest without oxygen.

10:15 p.m. — Starts pushing. Ouch.

11:05 p.m. — Everest attained. With oxygen. But the views are nonetheless spectacular! Beautiful Hadley arrives pretty and pink. Mom Amber now understanding why women do this multiple times. Dad Jamie still worried about that new car he owes his obedient daughter.... And thus began our tale of living "Happily Ever After!" (or would that be sleepless?)

From Amber of Crazy Bloggin' Canuck and Mile High Mamas. Amber is 1 of 5 semi-finalist bloggers in Microsoft Office's Winter Games Contest — you should totally go vote for her!
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Note from Design Mom: for the duration of my pregnancy, I'll be posting advice, memories and stories about pregnancy, childbirth, adoption and growing a family on Wednesdays. You can find them all by clicking here. I'd love to hear your story or memory or advice, feel free to submit it to gabrielle@designmom.com.

Reflection on Motherhood from Miranda Anderson

When my six-month-old Milo was only 4 weeks new I took a few minutes to reflect on his arrival. I am so glad that I did. I posted it on my blog back then, and thought it would be fun to share with you:

Friday May 29th, 2009
One month and I can't even remember what it was like to not be a mom. The process of becoming a parent is fascinating and progressive. I remember back last May when Dave and I decided to begin preparing to have a baby. Our preparations included eating healthy and exercising to be in optimal shape, ensuring our daily, weekly, and monthly habits were intact and would not be lost in the whirlwind of a new child. Also, observing solid financial practices to allow for a comfortable transition to parenthood with all the necessary accoutrements. After a couple months we were ready, and I was pregnant. The look on Dave's face when I told him reflected the excitement, anticipation and joy that we shared at that moment, and through the remaining 34 weeks of pregnancy.

Pregnancy. Now there is an interesting process. Mine was full of new feelings, white and tan foods (like cheerios and bagels...daily for 16 weeks!), weight gain, wiggles in my belly, trips to the bathroom, Dave saying "thank you for carrying our baby," counting down the days until the next appointment and doppler, long walks, borrowed maternity clothes and wondering and waiting and waiting. I have never felt more unlike myself than I did while I was pregnant...until, all of the sudden (somewhere between weeks 20-30) I was pregnant, and I couldn't remember being anything else!

Then, at around midnight on April 30th, I awoke for a usual trip to the bathroom and I noticed a crampy feeling in my belly. Convinced that the beginning of labor would be somewhat more spectacular, I spent the next hour eating a snack, doing dishes, and taking a bath to see if these contractions would subside. When they had increased in intensity and frequency I woke Dave up and told him that we may be on our way to having a baby. I called the OB, who said to spend a few hours at home to make sure labor was real, so Dave and I watched A League of Their Own in bed, made sure the bags were indeed packed, then returned our library books and DVDs on the way to the hospital at 4 am.

After 1 hour of triage and a monitored strip showing contractions 3 minutes apart, I was admitted...I was having a baby! We walked the halls for a little while, pausing to squat against the wall and relax during contractions. I found that method not quite as comfortable as I wanted, so I opted for a hot bath in my room's jacuzzi tub. Dave sat next to me on the floor and coached me through each contraction. He held my hand and timed 30 seconds from the start of each so he could tell me when it wasn't going to get any worse. I sipped iced cranberry juice and nibbled graham crackers to maintain hydration and energy over the following 8 hours. Because I had a natural delivery, I was unencumbered by tubes and lines and was able to move around freely, which became less and less important as contractions intensified.

Labor was a dance of forced relaxation in the bathtub, on the birthing ball and side lying on the bed. About 10 am I was dilated to 6 cm and though contractions were painful, I realized that this pain meant progress. At 12 pm I was 8 cm and I felt fatigued but focused. At 1 pm when I was only 8.5 cm we decided to break the fore bag to allow a little more pressure for dilation. When Julie, the midwife, broke the bag we discovered that there was meconium in the water...and for the first time I felt anxious about the process. My concern for Milo's welfare was overwhelming. I was ready to get him quickly, and safely into my arms.

Instead of increased frequency of contractions, after breaking the water mine spread out to every 5 minutes. We needed to find a good position for direct pressure. Turns out the right position was sitting on the toilet, not a very relaxing or comfortable place to experience the most painful and intense contractions of the whole labor. Dave's role as labor coach became vital as I struggled through transition. I was able to close my eyes and listen to him encouraging me to relax every muscle and envision myself floating...just floating through the pain.

Finally, around 2 pm the contractions didn't just peak with pain, but with an overwhelming feeling to push. I felt weak and shaky but excited to be approaching the time in the labor when I could DO something rather than using all of my energy NOT DOING ANYTHING. Every muscle in my body went into those pushes, first sitting on the birthing stool, then lying up in the bed. Pushing was fun! Contractions stopped hurting and spread out to allow some rest. I have never put more physical effort into anything else...ever.

After about 30 minutes I could see Milo's head. After 29 more minutes I pushed my last push. When little, conehead, purple Milo shrieked with vigor my still worried heart settled and the specialists who had been called in case of meconium aspiration quietly left the room. Then I held my son for the first time. He was slimy, wiggly, warm, swollen, tiny, and PERFECT. I counted ten little fingers and ten little toes. He opened up those huge eyes and looked around his new world. Dave cut the cord, took some photos and then snuggled up close to Milo and me. Over the next hour I nursed Milo and talked with Dave as the midwife and OB repaired my battle wounds.

It was amazing how fast we went from two to three, and how incredibly natural the transition. I have heard that there is no way to prepare for being a parent, but somehow even in those first moments I felt like my whole life was preparation, and this was what I was made for.

I love watching Dave as a dad. He is so excited to spend time with Milo, even if it's just holding him while he sleeps. Having my husband become a father adds a whole new dimension to our relationship. I didn't know I could love him more, but I do. Every day for the last month Dave and I have been blessed to care for our little miracle. He eats, squeaks, sleeps, stretches, grunts, snuggles, and learns as he looks around with his wide eyes. I have found my joy in life, and it is being a wife and mother. Nothing could be better.

From Miranda of Mr. Milo Goes to Washington.

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Note from Design Mom: for the duration of my pregnancy, I'll be posting advice, memories and stories about pregnancy, childbirth, adoption and growing a family on Wednesdays. You can find them all by clicking here. I'd love to hear your story or memory or advice, feel free to submit it to gabrielle@designmom.com.

On Roots — by Juli Fraga

Before my mother adopted me in 1974, I came to her via letter, delivered by the postal service, along with a picture on a black and white Polaroid. My three month history was less than 500 words. I came to her as “Sun Ok Park,” but she named me “Juliann.” I traveled the ocean waters all the way from Seoul with a social worker to meet her, and was placed in her arms at the airport. She met me in Kansas City, Kansas. This was our beginning.

I grew up in Omaha, Nebraska right in the center of America. Omaha is a predominately white community, thus there weren’t many other Asian or Asian American children in my neighborhood let alone any other adoptees. My brother (also an adoptee, but not my biological brother) and I attended a small Catholic school where we were the only Asian American students, and not only that, we weren’t even Catholic and our mother was divorced. Talk about not fitting in.

My adopted parents are white. At an early age I recall my mother talking on the phone saying, “people always look at me when I go out with Juli because we look different.” As a small child I could not make cognitive sense of these words, but I felt what she was saying.

A well-known psychologist in the area of transracial adoption once talked about the concept of honorary white privilege — fitting in because one is the adopted child of white parents. Growing up, I did not feel anything honorary about this process. I felt invisible. I was envious of those who could say they had “their Mom’s eyes,” or “their Dad’s nose.” I’ve always felt like a branch without its tree. I’ve always wanted roots.

****

It is Saturday, December 15, 2007. I am getting ready for a friend’s birthday party, and am decorating gingerbread cookies. I notice that I feel nauseous. “I couldn’t possibly be pregnant, could I?” To ease my mind, I decide to take a quick pregnancy test. It is positive. I call my husband and say, “You have to come home because we are going to have a baby!” And so our journey begins.

I have a relatively smooth pregnancy. At 19 weeks we find out we are having a little girl and at 20 weeks I take a trip to Australia to see a close girlfriend. Realizing this is the last international trip for awhile, I enjoy every minute of it. Each night I read all sorts of magazines. I do a lot of eating, shopping and site seeing during the day.

I share the journey of pregnancy with close girlfriends. We exchange stories about pregnancy woes, preparing for our babies, and career and identity changes. In July, three of my closet friends throw me a wonderful shower. We make a special bracelet for the baby. My dear friend Susana travels from Hawai’i with her daughter, Josephine, and seeing her before the baby’s arrival feels complete. As someone who has no known biological family and no sister, Susana is an older sister to me and her daughter a niece.

Around week 36, I begin to feel very uncomfortable. As a petite woman I can feel the baby’s feet kicking the top of my rib cage. This is not a comfortable feeling. I go on maternity leave two weeks early and hope the baby arrives early. I go to acupuncture to try and induce labor. My due date comes and still no baby.

Stephen and I take long walks to try and induce labor. We also go out to a few of our favorite kid-unfriendly restaurants knowing we won’t be returning for awhile. It feels like cramming for finals — trying to get in all the adult freedom and fun before the big day.

It is August 23, 2008, my husband and I are at UCSF hospital in San Francisco. After over 36 hours of labor, two shots of morphine, pitocin, antibiotics for an infection in my amniotic fluid, she arrives via c-section on August 24 — 8 lbs, 6 oz. Lucy Park Fraga. This is our beginning.

Lucy is my first known biological relative. It’s the first time I can look at someone and see a physical resemblance to myself. I will take Lucy with me when I go to Korea. I will go to retrace my own geographical roots, and to fill in some of the gaps to my story.

From Juli Fraga of All About Cute.

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Note from Design Mom: for the duration of my pregnancy, I'll be posting stories about pregnancy, childbirth, adoption and growing a family on Wednesdays. You can find them all by clicking here. I'd love to hear your story, feel free to submit it to gabrielle@designmom.com.

Birth Story from Michelle Jammes

There are few pictures of me pregnant and with good reason. I fell into that category of not happy pregnant people. My pregnancy came as a surprise two weeks after my 30th birthday and it did not suit me one bit. All those tales of a glow and energy and life inside you.....hmmmm. How about brittle hair, sciatica, heartburn, pinched nerves, morning sickness for 16+ weeks so bad that you would have given a million dollars to eat just one little saltine cracker. : )

Well, the big due date neared and Emma was clearly not interested in coming out. She never dropped and my cervix never even dilated. Since I had high levels of amniotic fluids and ‘gestational hypertension,’ (which in hindsight I believe was just “white coat syndrome”), my doctor didn’t want me to go past my due date of Sept 24th. On the night of the 24th I would be induced and on the 25th I would have my baby girl.

The designated night rolls around and we check into the hospital. I was a little upset that I would be missing Project Runway but quickly remembered that they show back to back episodes and I could catch up next week. (Priorities!) The nurse came in to explain the procedure. At midnight they would give me the first of possibly many suppositories to get my cervix soft and dilated. That would be followed by pitocin to induce labor and by this time tomorrow I would have my baby. Simple enough. The nurse even jokingly told me to turn off the TV as tonight would be my last night of proper sleep.

So I complied. Like Cinderella awaiting the stroke of midnight, I lay back and let the beeping and flickering lights of the stat machine lull me to sleep. At some point, I became focused on one particular number on this machine. I knew the numbers should stay in the range of 150-200. Anything lower than 150 was cause for concern. 150, 130, 120. Two nurses come in and in a calm manner tell to me lie on my right side and try not to move. They explained how sometimes the monitors shift or the baby moves out of range. I think to myself, 'I was just laying the wrong way', but within 5 minutes, like a scene from a movie, the lights are on and the room is filled with more nurses. There is a doctor and my anesthesiologist is back.

The numbers are low, 130, 120, 90, 80. They are not going up. After being prodded with what felt like an entire forearm, they inform me they have just called my doctor and that there is no time to induce. "Do you understand?” one nurse asks me. I think I must have looked perplexed but I knew quite well what was going on. I recognized this scene from so many movies where the doc tells the husband "I can do this procedure in my sleep, I can have the baby out in less than 8 minutes. All will be fine". So Hollywood told me all would be well and honestly I wasn't afraid. I actually secretly wanted a c-section and hoped my doctor would tell me that I HAD to have one. I went in at 1 am and by 1:15 she was out.

I did feel pain. A lot of pressure is the only way to describe it. It is as if someone is squeezing your organs. It took longer for them to sew me up than to take her out. I remember wanting to just pass out or throw up but that I needed to hear her cry. I wanted to see her, but could only make out a fleeting image of a pink, wrinkly, piglet-like creature being whisked away to be cleaned. I felt assured as the nurses joked that I had a "big baby". Emma Adela was 8 lbs 13 oz. and 21.4 inches long.

For some people I guess motherhood comes naturally, but for me it took a while. I can honestly say I didn't have an immediate connection with her. Once they handed her to me I remember thinking to myself, "Hey kid, I guess we are stuck with each other." I never had dreams of being a mother — I was always playing the big sister with my dolls. I loved, and still do love, all animals. I brake for squirrels and will get out of my car to help a turtle cross the road. To be handed this little human being who needed me more than anything or anyone ever did was both daunting and numbing. You can't just leave food and water out for this person or take a holiday from them. I knew I had to push forward for this person and embrace this new phase in my life.



As they handed her to me I quietly mourned that part of my life that I would never be able to return to. But with the passing of each day I cannot imagine a life without her. I cry each day at her advancements and feel a sense of comfort to know that she is because I am.

Emma turned one almost a month ago. The year just flew by and Emma is such a wonderful little person. She has such a joy for life that I feel blessed to be able to see the world through new eyes now, and in a way, be a child all over again.

From Michelle Jammes.

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Note from Design Mom: for the duration of my pregnancy, I'll be posting stories about pregnancy, childbirth, adoption and growing a family on Wednesdays. You can find them all by clicking here. I'd love to hear your story, feel free to submit it to gabrielle@designmom.com.

A Pregnancy Trial from Brenna

I was 25 when my husband and I got pregnant with our first child. Several of my friends were pregnant too, and I was delighted that I would get to share this experience with them. I was so lucky at the beginning, because I didn't get sick at all. It was easy!

That was good because I was an incredibly busy kindergarten teacher and felt like I had something to prove since I was young. The first trimester passed with relatively few troubles. The only thing out of the ordinary was a small bump we had found near my collarbone. Probably lymph tissue, but no one seemed to concerned so I tried not to be. After 3 weeks on antibiotics, it was still there and starting to cause more worry. But I was busy, so it just got pushed to the back burner.

A few months later I was visiting a doctor for my eyes. His brother happened to be an ENT and when he saw my lump, he told me that I should go and get it checked out by a specialist, so I did. The specialist did a fine needle biopsy which had inconclusive results; we followed up with a full biopsy and the results were devastating. At 24 weeks along, I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Cancer! I was too young for that!

Those first few weeks of diagnosis were incredibly difficult. Lots and lots of testing; some of it was quite painful. Each day we hoped for the best and we kept pushing through, but the fear consumed us in our quiet moments. No mother-to-be should ever have to wonder if she's going to be around to watch her baby grow up. As days passed we learned that the cancer had already advanced to "Stage 3." It was everywhere but my bone marrow. We had to make a choice. Start chemo right away or deliver early and start as soon as possible. We listened, we prayed, we cried some more. We decided that we would wait until I was 34 weeks to deliver and then start chemo.

The hardest part was watching all my friends — the same friends I had been delighted to share pregnancy with. It seemed things were perfect for them. I remember visiting my best friend the day she had her baby. I was so happy for her, but I was incredibly jealous of how easy things seemed. I cried myself to sleep that night, and I can still feel that hurt in my heart to this day.

But blessings came to me too, although I was still working through the trials. At 34 weeks I delivered a healthy baby boy, who we named Caleb Roy. In fact, though he was 6 weeks early he weighed 6 lbs at birth! He spent 2 weeks in the NICU, but came home as normal as can be. I started chemo the same week I had Caleb. Caleb was the most mellow, easy baby I could imagine. Though I was sick quite a bit, we managed.



Six months later I finished chemo with a perfectly clean bill of health. I've been cancer free over a year now and I am grateful for each moment I have with my husband and son. Life is a beautiful blessing.

From Brenna.

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Note from Design Mom: for the duration of my pregnancy, I'll be posting stories about pregnancy, childbirth and growing a family on Wednesdays. You can find them all by clicking here.

A Dramatic Delivery Story from Danika Gunn

Note: Fair warning — it's a long story. Also. Times are estimated because I wasn't really looking at the clock. I just know I woke up around 2:30 AM and Lia was born at 3:15 AM.

September 15th, 2004, 2:30 AM- I woke up with really bad cramps. I thought they were just diarrhea cramps from the castor oil I'd taken to try and get labor started.

2:45 AM- I realize they are not diarrhea cramps. They are contractions. And they have now turned into super, incredible amazingly hard contractions. I had my first child without any medication and remembered that the contractions hurt pretty bad at 5 cm, so I think I am about 5 cm and go get in bed to do my hypnobirthing (a deep relaxation technique to help reduce the pain of labor). I told Matt (my husband) I was in labor and for him to start timing the contractions for me. I would tap his arm once when they started and once when it ended. Every time I tapped him it would wake him up and he would say "Oh it wasn't even a minute long" and fall asleep again. (Later he told me that he was just trying to count to 60 in his head.)

Finally the contractions are so hard I can actually feel and see my belly jerking or crunching as the muscles contract. I tell Matt, "I am in so much pain. Call the hospital and tell them to have that epidural at the door. I don't know how I can even get to the car it hurts so bad." He says "You're okay," and kinda rubs my arm a little and falls asleep again. In his defense I have to say that when I was talking it was in a very calm quiet voice, because in hypnobirthing you try not to tense up at all. Not even your eyebrows. I knew that if I lost concentration I would be in way more pain. I looked and sounded very calm, almost sleepy. So he thought I was just fine.

2:50 AM- I am ticked at Matt for not listening to me. Plus I am super scared because of this intense pain and I think I still have 6 more hours of it. I ask Matt to help me get ready to go. He doesn't move (I had false labor a couple times the week before and he just thought this was another one of those).

3:00 AM- I get so ticked off and can't control myself any longer and I say, "Fine I don't need any help! I'm only in labor and dying and I can do it myself!" and I rip the covers off and start moving as fast as I can for the bathroom. That got his attention! Again I told him to, "Call the hospital and tell them we're coming," and "I don't know how I can get to the car in this pain." I get to the bathroom and think I should go to the bathroom before I go to the hospital. I sit down and start another contraction and it is so intense that my legs shot straight out in front of me. I still think I have a couple more hours of this.

3:01 AM- I hear Matt talking on the phone saying our address and how old I am. I'm wondering, “Why he is even telling the hospital those things?” (Later I find out he was talking to a 911 operator, not someone at the hospital) “All he needs to do is to tell them to tell the doctor we are coming in.” But before I can yell at him to just get to the point, my body is overcome with this super intense pressure and I can't talk or breathe. I grabbed the side of the sink terrified. My body had never done that with Abe (my first baby). I didn't know what was going on. But then I felt "the burn." Most of the ladies should know what I'm talking about here. I realized that I did not have any hours left. The baby was coming now!

3:05 AM- I tried to tell Matt but I couldn't get my breath. He is still talking on the phone. I finally get a little voice back and tell Matt, "She's coming. She's coming out." The phone is not cordless so I hear him trying to make it over to me and telling the operator, "She says the baby is coming, but I don't think she is." Then he turns on the bathroom light and sees Lia's head starting to come through. He tells the operator that she is indeed coming and the operator says, "stay on the phone."

He can't reach me and stay on the phone at the same time. He chucks the phone and gets to me just as Lia's full head comes out. At this point I remember everything calming down a bit. I wasn't in pain anymore. So we were just sitting there trying to gather our thoughts. I asked Matt if the cord was around her neck. He said no, but then he checked a little harder and found that it was wrapped around her neck. Later he told me that due to all the pressure the cord was so, so hard to get off from around her neck that he was just pulling on that thing! He got the cord off her neck.

3:15 AM- Lia is born! And she is breathing! Hurray!

3:16 AM- I am sitting on the toilet looking at this beautiful baby in my arms, wondering what just happened. Matt gets back on the phone and tells the operator the baby is okay. We wrap her in a towel and try to figure out what the heck is going on. And just oohing and aahing over her. She was so sweet. We found out later that she was 8 lbs 10 oz. So beautiful!

3:19 AM- I am buck naked so Matt tries to put some grey sweat pants on me but the placenta hasn't come through yet so we decide no pants.

3:20 AM- The paramedics arrive. There are ambulance dudes and fireman there. Three of them cram into our tiny little apartment bathroom and stare at me. Naked and holding a baby on the toilet. They ask me if I'm bleeding. Duh. They just stare. I am still holding Lia and I am shaking. I feel like I should say something to them so I tell them, "I was just sitting here and I had a baby. Will you please take her? I'm afraid I might drop her from all this shaking." So they let Matt cut the cord and take her away.

Matt called the only friends we had, The Sanchez family, to see if Sarilu could come over and pick up Abe so we could go to the hospital. Sarilu had been an ER nurse for a long time so when she saw the baby was still not dried off and wrapped up warm she told them, "Get that baby wrapped in a space blanket," and then she had to leave. They didn't wrap her in a space blanket. I remember one of them saying "She looks kinda blue," and the next one answering, "Don't worry she'll pink up at the hospital when they dry her off and rub her a bit." I wish I could have been thinking clearly, because I would have just taken the baby from them and done it myself.

(No more time line because I have no concept of time or much else at this point).

I still have not delivered the placenta but one dude says "Well, let's get you to the hospital." I'm still buck naked and I am trying to stand up. Finally one of them notices I need a little help and grabs my arm to help me up. Then he waits for me to start walking out the bathroom door. (Sorry this gets a little gross). Problem. My umbilical cord is just dangling there dripping blood on the tile and I don't want to get blood on my carpet. So I tell the paramedics this. One of them glances around and then pulls one of my towels off the rack and says "Straddle this". I do. "Let's go," he says again.

Problem. I'm still naked. There are all kinds of lights flashing outside. "I don't want my neighbors to see me naked." One of them leaves to go find me something to wear. He returns with this dark green, really short, satin robe that I have not even seen for a long time. I put it on just happy not to be naked. And then out the door we go. No help. Just me waddling out into the cold, September Colorado night with no shoes or socks, a nighty, and a towel between my legs trying to make it down the flight of stairs to the ambulance.

If I had been able to think clearly I would have done things a lot differently. I think my husband and I were in a bit of shock and we were just doing what the guys in uniform told us to do. I had to stop 2 times on the stairs to have 2 more contractions. I was just shaking and gripping the rail. Matt was busy with the baby or else he would have been taking really good care of me. These paramedics had no idea what they were doing.

When I get to the bottom of the stairs I start to cross the sidewalk to get in the ambulance which is 10 feet away. However, the paramedics then decide it is too dangerous for me to walk that 10 feet, put me on a stretcher and then put me in the ambulance to go one block away. Ladies, you know how after you have a baby the nurse rubs your belly. Well these paramedics do that to me and they each take a turn learning how to do it. I kept telling them that it really hurt and that I needed a break. They just told me to take another breath. I wanted to hit them. I arrived at the hospital in my sexy little green robe and immediately the nurses ask why the baby is not in a space blanket and whisk her away.

I was taken to a super small room past the broom closet and was left alone there for a long time. I was covered in blood and really, really, really thirsty. Finally someone came in, and I asked for water, but couldn't have any because they were putting me on pitocin to try and get me to deliver the placenta. My doctor came in with crazy hair and I thought I woke him up so I say, "Sorry I woke you up," and he says in a dazed voice, "You didn't. This is like the 15th baby I delivered tonight." After his work is done, placenta and all, he leaves. The nurse says she'll get me some water but then leaves.

I was alone, and had patches of blood on me for a long time. Wondering how my baby is doing and what the heck just happened. Matt was with Lia and she was having a hard time. She was only around 95 degrees when she got to the hospital and was low on oxygen. She had to go to the NICU and Matt stayed with her until she was settled. I am so grateful that he would stay with her when I couldn't.



In hindsight we wish we had never called the paramedics. Matt could have done a better job, and drove us one block for free. But happily (so happily!) at the end of the story we had a healthy baby and a healthy me. Plus a really great story to tell. : )

(For those who are curious, I had my next two daughters at home with a midwife attending. With Hazel, labor started when my water suddenly broke and thirty five minutes later I held her in my arms. Olive's birth was very similar. It started with my water breaking and thirty minutes later I held her in my arms. I am so glad I was at home and not out in public!)

From Danika Gunn of LoGunns.

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Note from Design Mom: for the duration of my pregnancy, I'll be posting stories about pregnancy, childbirth and growing a family on Wednesdays. You can find them all by clicking here.

Pregnancy Story from Aimee Giese

Learning to Love Your Stomach

Whenever someone asks me about pregnancy, I just tell them it was the time I learned to love my gut. I loved people to touch it, loved that it was hard and round. Love loved loved my stomach.

Because the rest of it was weird.

I got pregnant on vacation, a business trip that we both happened to be on in Vancouver if you want to get technical, which makes Declan half-Canadian if you want to get more technical, and if you want to get really really really technical - there is only one time in one day where he could have been conceived. February 8th, 2002. Around 3pm in the afternoon. IF you want to get technical.

Have you ever told your co-workers you may have become pregnant the day before? It's weird.

Flash forward three months and we're tra-la-la-laing through the pregnancy like it we're running through a sunny meadow and the doctor suddenly puzzles over my urine. Have you ever had anyone puzzle over your urine? It's weird.

Come to find out, I was spilling sugars like crazy, so they move up my glucose test. Which I abjectly fail. Fail so badly I had to lay down after drinking the un-fizzy orange drink. Lime they had to FIND a place for me to lay down because that had never happened before. Have YOU ever had to lay down during a glucose test? It's weird.

The test results come back and my doctor is yelling at me so loud I have to hold the phone about 10 feet from my ear, then was rushed on to insulin shots THAT NIGHT and once wave after shocking wave of realization washed over me that, yes, I have been diabetic for what could have been years before this pregnancy, I thought, "this is really weird."

So, I get over my fear of needles, I get the blood sugars under control and I am back on the merry happy path that was my pregnancy. Except for Declan had other plans. He decided he wanted to come two months early in a very spectacular fashion. Not even anything related to the diabetes even. I will spare you all the details, but let's just say it involved more yelling from my doctor and some knives. Oh, and me on my hands and knees on a gurney with my booty in the air.

THAT. WAS. WEIRD.

But it all worked out. Declan was fine, I was fine. My husband? Maybe not so fine, but he could deal.

So, maybe in the end, I didn't get all huge and puffy and wobbly like some ladies who go the full nine months - which is why I loved my stomach so much.

But that's OK. It's what came out of it that matters.

From Aimee of Greeblemonkey.

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Note: for the duration of my pregnancy, I'll be posting stories about pregnancy, childbirth and growing a family on Wednesdays. You can find them all by clicking here.

Pregnancy Memory from Sarah Lemoine

At the hospital the day Abe was born.

A Bittersweet Year

Pregnancy is such a beautiful thing. Creating life — then helping to mold that life into a decent little person — is perhaps the most elevated of all callings. Sometimes the job seems ordinary. Even mundane. But in light of the bigger picture, each seemingly insignificant moment is nothing less than extraordinary.

My third pregnancy was bittersweet, as my husband, Seth, was deployed to Iraq for most of it. As a National Guard soldier, he was a weekend warrior with a different full time job. I never really expected him to go. I had a three-year-old daughter and a two-year-old son... And I was 8 weeks pregnant! Unfortunately, the military didn't deem my plight as sufficient cause to discharge my soldier. Before the end of my first trimester, I watched my dearly beloved board the plane that would take him away for my bittersweet year.


At the airport — Seth was saying goodbye to our son, Jack.

knew this pregnancy would be challenging. I didn't realize it would also be my saving grace. Determined to keep living, I vowed to create fond memories with my children and my unborn baby. Instead of counting the seemingly endless days until Seth's return, the baby gave us mini-milestones to celebrate each week... 17 weeks- it has tastebuds! 20 weeks- it's a boy! 23 weeks- he can feel me dancing! 36 weeks- full term!!! Each doctor visit was exciting and the children were intimately involved in every step of the pregnancy. The magical process of growing a baby created a pleasant backdrop during a tumultuous time. Between tears, we played a lot. We took adventure walks. We cooked. We did crafts. We webcammed with Daddy. We put furniture together and painted 2 bedrooms. We wrote letters, drew pictures, talked, and took tons of photos. The pregnancy gave us a beautiful distraction that kept us moving forward.

Early on, I decided that I didn't want Seth to come home for the birth. He was allowed 2 weeks of leave, but I knew if he came home for the delivery, I would be stuck in bed most of the time and his departure would surely send me into a postpartum depression! Because I was so afraid that labor would start unexpectedly in the middle of the night (with no one there to watch my other kids or take me to the hospital), each tiny tightening and twinge in my belly sent me into a panic. About a month before my due date, I had a false alarm. I remember praying all night that God would just let the show begin in the morning. I texted all of my neighbors and out-of-town family at two am to let them know it may be time. In the morning my phone was abuzz with calls from friends and family, worried that my 3-year-old delivered my baby and angry that I had not called to wake them. The next day my mother-in-law drove in to stay with me until I gave birth.

One week later, I awoke at about four AM with mild, but steady contractions. This time I knew it was real. By eight AM, I was in a good bit of pain, so we loaded the kids in the car and I asked my mother-in-law to drop me off at the hospital before she took the kids to mothers-day-out. Looking back, I imagine how sad it must have looked: me, walking into the hospital alone- with my overnight bag and in the throes of real labor. (On the up side, I was wearing make-up and looked prettier than I had for any other delivery, knowing my husband would only have the photos to document the occasion.)

By the time I was admitted and situated, I was eight cm dilated! And by 11:30 AM, my mother was cutting the umbilical cord. Seth called (literally) two minutes after Abe was born. Because I was 2 weeks early, he didn't even know I was in labor- and suddenly he was the proud Dad of three. That was exactly one year ago from this Saturday. Seth has been home for five months and the memory of his year away is already clouded by a nostalgic haze. I remember laughter, fear, joy and longing... but mostly, I remember love. Love for my country, my husband, my beautiful children & my blessed life.

Whatever the circumstance surrounding your pregnancy, remember the magic- the miraculous journey- is just beginning. Embrace your situation and enjoy the ride.


At the airport on the day Seth left.

Best wishes!! Enjoy the vacation at the hospital... lots of magazines, trashy television shows and sweet, sweet sleep.

From Sarah Lemoine of CocoBlu Studio.

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Note: for the duration of my pregnancy, I'll be posting stories about pregnancy, childbirth and growing a family on Wednesdays. You can find them all by clicking here.

Pregnancy Dream from Calli Taylor

When I was barely pregnant with my twin daughters, my mother in law, phoned my husband early in the morning. She had just had a dream that she needed to tell us about.

In her dream, she was in a hen house. She was standing over an egg, and although she knows you are not supposed to help a chick break out of it’s shell, she felt she compelled to help this one. She peeled away the shell. When she was done, she was horrified… there was not one, but two chicks in the shell. But the birds weren’t ready to be hatched… they looked limp, gray and lifeless. And she was filled with shock and remorse. She turned away. But after a moment, she heard a chirping sound and looked back at the shell. Inside were two yellow, healthy, darling, little chicks.

After she finished telling my husband about the dream she said, “I think it means you are going to have twins.” He had a good chuckle and hung up the phone. He told me the story of the dream and I ran to the bathroom to throw up. When I was done, I came back and told my husband “Oh no, I am not having twins… I am not the twin mom type… I don’t even like any two names that rhyme and I hate matching outfits!”

As time unfolded her dream became incredibly prescient, because I was indeed having twins. And they came early… way too early. They weighed 1 lb. 10 oz. and 1 lb. 3 oz. at birth and they looked limp and gray and lifeless. They actually looked like unfeathered baby birds with thin translucent skin and incredibly tiny limbs.

Thankfully, Kit’s dream continued to be right. My little chicks eventually fattened up, turned pink and healthy… and although I didn’t name them matching names and rarely buy matching outfits (though I love to sometimes…) I especially love having my twins.

Gabrielle, I wish you all the best with your pregnancy! I won't wish twins on you... but they are pretty wonderful.

From Calli of Make it Do.

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Note: for the duration of my pregnancy, I'll be posting stories about pregnancy, childbirth and growing a family on Wednesdays. You can find them all by clicking here.

Pregnancy Thoughts by Laura B

Carrying Andrew, my biggest baby, at 9 pounds.

Pregnancy is amazing. Truly amazing.

I’m amazed that my belly can stretch this much. And then (almost) shrink back down.

I'm amazed that I've gone through three pregnancies. That I have three beautiful children, grown in my own womb. I'm amazed that it's been over two years since I was pregnant. Time flies. And yet, when I talk to friends who are expecting, I can recall with clarity the feelings I had when I was pregnant with each of my three children. I really love being pregnant.

I love the first flutters of movement I feel when my baby starts to make his/her presence known.

I love the rolls across my belly when my baby gets bigger and stronger.

I love noticing little hands and feet punching and kicking as my baby stretches.

It’s amazing how much I endure in order to give life to a new baby: nausea, exhaustion, stretch marks, sciatic nerve pain, varicose veins, carpal tunnel, broken tailbone, peeing all the time, not sleeping well, heartburn, etc. And a new ailment or two comes along with each subsequent pregnancy.

It’s amazing that most of that can be “forgotten” so that I’m willing to do it again.

Then there’s labor and delivery. Amazing pain. Truly amazing, unbelievable pain.

But the miracle of birth follows the pain and makes it all okay. (Not forgotten, but okay.)

Me and my first baby, Connor, bonding in the hospital.

I love the first glimpse of my baby, so fresh and new and perfect. So full of trust and potential.

I love the first snuggle as my baby is laid upon my waiting breast.

I love the two days in the hospital, just me and my baby, getting acquainted. I guess it’s not really getting acquainted since we already knew each other pretty well after nine months of constant companionship. Still, I cherish those two days to love my baby, to sleep holding my baby, to teach my baby to nurse, and to just be a new mother again.

Alan, Connor, and Andrew.

The most amazing part of bringing a baby into this world is the amount of love that I can feel for another person.

The love between my husband and me as we celebrate the new life we created, with our Heavenly Father's help.

The way the love in our family multiplies, not divides, as another person joins our team.

And the amazing amount of love I feel for a little person so new to this earth-life. I know we knew each other before we came here and that our spirits were destined to help each other through our earthly journeys.

Amazing. Quite amazing.

From Laura of My Dream Job.

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Note: for the duration of my pregnancy, I'll be posting stories about pregnancy, childbirth and growing a family on Wednesdays. You can find them all by clicking here.

Adrienne Berry's Pregnancy Memory

Last year my husband Brian and I felt it was time to start trying for number 3. Knowing that I am on bed rest for the first half of my pregnancy made it one that I had to gear up to (and my husband, as he became Mr. Mom during that time). Soon after we started trying, we were successful in getting pregnant and I was in bed from week 6 (first of October) through December. From the beginning I knew baby #3 would be a boy. I could feel him fluttering around so early on, it was like a constant reminder that he was letting me know it was all going to turn out fine. I often had thoughts of how blessed we were to be bringing another little boy into our family as I lay there in bed and let my man do all the work.

As I was sick, I started to notice my 4 year old son David was not getting better from a fall cold. It went from cold, to flu, to cold, to flu, to strep. Many days we lay in bed together feeling rotten, but giving lots of snuggles. Then one day he started wetting the bed again. Rancid bad breath ensued and I couldn't put the energy into this change in angry 4 year old behavior. David became aggressive and lethargic. ER visits provided no comfort. Pediatrician visits seemed fruitless. After months of both of us being sick, I told my husband we needed to start having blood tests done on David. At this phase, baby #3 was all but a growing bump in my belly.

On December 1st, I was laying on our front couch making an appointment with our Pediatrician again, requesting blood work to be done and urine tests as well. My other line beeped in and I ignored it. Then as my husband's cell phone rang I was transported into a de ja vous. I knew my dad was calling. He was telling my husband that my mother had suffered a severe stroke. I knew she was near death. As he hung up the phone, I said "She had a stroke didn't she?" This dream had happened all throughout my pregnancy, you know those weird dreams that you have that you just ignore?

Within hours I was in the car driving to visit my mom in the neuro ICU 300 miles away. Brian was to take David to the pediatrician for the blood work.

I thought about my mom, possibly not being able to hold baby #3 or comfort my other two children like grandma's always do.

As I arrived to my mom's bedside, I received a call that David was being rushed to the ER: prognosis Type 1 Diabetes, DKA: Diabetic ketoacidosis is a complication of diabetes that occurs when sugar (glucose) is not available as a fuel source by the body and fat is used instead. David was about 24 hours away from death.

Suddenly anger and fears of caring for another child stemmed and I wasn't sure why I had the crazy idea to grow our family. How could we care for a diabetic child, a toddler and a new baby?

With the prospect of burying my mother and son in the same week, I had to make a decision. Thankfully my mother stabilized after about 12 hours and I was able to turn around to drive back home to David.

As I got to the hospital where he was admitted I was blown away with the information that I had missed out on. IVs, insulin therapy, injections, and my sick little boy - in a yellow hospital nightie. As soon as I saw him, I snuggled up to him on his bed with my now protruding belly. He then rested his hand on my tummy and told me, "Mom, I'm going to be the best big brother when I get feeling better."

There in a hospital bed, I felt two little boy spirits — one so close to death, the other so close to life — and I couldn't help but regret my feelings of anger and inadequacy. No love lacking, my sons taught me a valuable lesson that day.

Sometimes our biggest trials are a blessing in disguise.


4 Generations of boys, 4 generations of girls!

We have learned to live happily with Type 1 Diabetes. Pregnancy gave us something to look forward to, and not dwell on the past few traumatic months. My mother miraculously recovered and since Charlie was born he's been our little ray of sunshine for 2009. Happy and cheerful, he reminds us that, "When life gets you down, Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming swimming swimming!"

From Adrienne of Dingbat Press.

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Note: for the duration of my pregnancy, I'll be posting stories about pregnancy, childbirth and growing a family on Wednesdays. You can find them all by clicking here.

An Adoption Story by Jenny Newcomer

Seven years ago ovarian cancer and its treatment left me, left us, without any reproductive options. So we — my husband Will and I — opened our hearts, our minds, and adoption’s heavy door.

Whether it was our heart, our mind, fate, or a combination of all three, we adopted our daughter four years ago in what most would consider an ideal open adoption. We thank God for Sam, for her wonderful birth family, and, believe it or not, for the cancer that lead us to her.

Fear, however, did not abandon ideal. An emotional rollercoaster pulled up a chair and made itself comfortably uncomfortable in the months, weeks, and days leading up to the delivery: what if the birthmom changed her mind? Could we do this? How do we know? What if something, anything, goes wrong?

She didn’t change her mind — and the adoption went as smoothly as one could reasonably expect an arrangement that involves one woman handing a baby over to another woman to go. The emotions were many and multiple — and I vowed to cherish every moment — quiet, loud, overwhelming, and miraculous — with our little girl because I knew many of those I experienced waiting for her weren’t ones I would experience again.

Until now. We decide to try to adopt a child again.

The tearful exchange of a precious little miracle from woman to woman those four years ago isn’t as vivid as it once was. But the swell of love from and because of that little miracle certainly is. Nothing compares to that swell—and the space for love that Sam has carved out in us is boundless. More love makes more love.



In the six months since Will grinned at my mention of baby number two, it’s the social worker at the door, not the UPS man; pages and pages of application and verification documents stand in piles on the desk not ultrasound imagess; fingerprints and background checks are complete; and we are number 37 on the adoption agency waitlist. After a year & half wait, little Henry arrived into the world destined for us.

From Jenny Newcomer of LobotoME.

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Note: for the duration of my pregnancy, I'll be posting stories about pregnancy, childbirth and growing a family on Wednesdays. You can find them all by clicking here.

Happy Tuesday, Friends!

So I've got a few little notes to share:

1) Sorry for the site wonky-ness over the weekend and yesterday. In preparation for a site update (it's about time don't you think), we were messing with the server. My apologies if you couldn't access the blog. It should be good to go today.

2) It was so much fun to host all those lovely stories last week about women growing their families. So much fun in fact, that I think we should make it a tradition. My plan: for the duration of my pregnancy, I'm going to post more stories every Wednesday of every week. Starting tomorrow. For reals.

Many of you have already sent in your thoughts on pregnancy, childbirth and adoption. I look forward to posting some of those stories and inviting others to join in as well. Now we can all look forward to Wednesdays together.

By the way, to find all the growing families stories in one place, you can go here.

3) Because of the wonky-ness, I've decided to extend the J Caroline Home Giveaway for one more day. I'll republish it at the top so it doesn't get lost.

4) I've got a great Guest Mom this week that you'll love to meet. Watch for her introduction and first post in the next little bit.



5) I could not be more excited to get the house ready for Halloween! The kids pulled out the Halloween box yesterday. Remember those awesome plates (find instructions here)? The spooky branches? I can't wait to see how everything looks in our new dwelling. Fun!! What are you guys doing for Halloween decorations? Anything especially rad?

Donna McEvoy's Pregnancy Thoughts

My mom and baby me.

Navajos believe that those closest to the Spirit World are new babies, pregnant women, and the very old. That's because babies are newly arrived from the Spirit World, the expecting mother is in contact with the SW, and the old person will soon depart for the SW. (Navajo friends, correct me if necessary).

It fits. As a lady-in-waiting, you feel a Spirit close, and the new babies, well, we all arrive as Wordsworth says: "...trailing clouds of glory do we come...from God who is our home."

PS: In later years a hysterectomy gave me a new realization. The surgery made me feel cut off from the Eternities. As a women capable of bearing children, I had felt that privileged connection.

From my Mother, Donna McEvoy (who is on a mission in Russia, by the way).


Stanley Christmas card photo from 1976. Jake, Rachel, Sara, Joshua and me.

Note from Design Mom: My parents worked as teachers among the Navajo Nation for years. In fact, my oldest brother Jake, is a member of the Navajo tribe.

Julia Blair's Pregnancy Thoughts

Robert and Julia Blair with their oldest 3 kids, Margaret, Dell and Bobby.

I'm honored and delighted to remember my child-bearing days.

I'll soon be 77 and I find myself wondering how I could ever have complained about the joy and thrill of having a new baby. Of course I remember the queasiness, the awkwardness, the ordered bed-rest, etc. But mostly I am consumed with wonder and gratitude and nostalgia for the soft, helpless, beautiful babies that came through me.

I marvel how I treasure the memory and the joy of holding and nursing a new-born babe. Thinking now as a great-grandma, about the responsibility and trust placed on us naive, new and young parents, I stand all amazed! The miracle through it all is love, love, love along with faith and trust and knowing that we follow long lines of mothers, mothers, mothers! Families! Families! Families!

From my Mother-in-law, Julia Blair.

Liz Gumbinner's Pregnancy Advice

Most books have it all wrong.

Enduring pregnancy isn’t a matter of getting enough sleep, sucking on ginger candies, or kegel marathons.

Really, it all comes down to storing up a repetoire of snappy comebacks to stupid questions.

Mostly the ones I received were about my size — I was too small, too big, way too big, and should I really be eating so many chocolate chip pancakes?

In Gabby’s case, no doubt it will be about the size of her beautiful family. And while she’s far too gracious to use any of these, I would have some stock answers ready to go. Just in case.

-Yes we planned it. It seemed a shame for that last seat in the minivan to go to waste.

-Yes we planned it. I hear we get a free toaster with every sixth baby.

-Yes we planned it. Now only 12 more to go!

Those forty weeks may seem long but really, they’re a small price to pay.

After all, look what we have to show for it.



From Liz of Mom 101 and Cool Mom Picks.

Laura Mayes' Thoughts on Being Two People

Thoughts on Being Two People

I feel that I need to start by saying, it's basically insane that I'm on Gabby's blog talking about pregnancy or having children. Because, G is the first person I'd call if I had ever a question about either. In other words, you should not ask me. And if you do, I'll just ask her anyway.

But here are two things I know about being pregnant:

1. Wear a bathing suit whenever possible. Seriously. Wear it around the house. Wear it to church. Whatever. I mean, you're probably hot (temperature wise) anyway, especially as you get further along, so it helps with that. And, also, you're totally looking hot (smokin' hot wise) because a.) you're glowing, everyone is telling you this and b.) your giant stomach makes your backside look smaller. Think about it. You've really never looked better, so wear that tankini to Target. Trust me on this one.

2. Enter as many strength competitions as possible. Now's your time. Because you're not just a giant person, you're two giant people. And two giant people can kick one giant person's arse (is it okay to say arse on here?) every time. You will win every wrestling match you enter. I guarantee it. Because besides your gargantuan-ness, no one wants to say they beat the pregnant chick. Bad form. They'll totally make you feel like you won. And really, you have.



Thoughts on Being a Mother

This part gets a little more serious, because face it, there's nothing more serious than sleep loss. And here's a little preview of something that's included in the upcoming Kirtsy Takes a Bow book that's coming out late this month. Watch for it. It includes essays, photographs, tweets, ideas, and input on all of the nine Kirtsy categories (Arts & Entertainment; Design & Crafts; Family & Parenting; Fashion & Style; Food & Home; Internet & Technology; Mind, Body & Spirit; Travel & Leisure; Politics, World & Business) from more than 100 bloggers, including Mrs. Blair, here. But here's the one I submitted. You saw it on Design Mom first:


What Makes A Mother?

Someone recently asked me, "What Makes You a Mother?" And here I am coming up on my second Mother's Day as a mom, and I have no idea how to answer this question.

Because obviously there isn't an answer.

At least if there is, I don't completely understand it.

After all, it's not about being pregnant and having a baby. Because of course, you don't need to do these two things to be a mother. That said, I've been pregnant three times. I have one beautiful son. And even as I type this, I'm literally shedding tears for the other two babies I lost. Because I was their mother. And I celebrate them too this weekend.

It's also not about doing anything. Because there are a million ways to do everything, and I'm guessing at least 96% of the options are completely valid, good, and right.

So I guess being a mother is mainly about the being. And, as they say, being is mainly about being present in any given moment. But in this moment, as I sit here two days before my second Mother's Day, my precious little boy is spending two days with his grandmother and grandfather, and my husband and I are having our first-ever childless vacation at home. Which means I'm not presently being in any moment with my child. It also means I slept in past 7:30 a.m. for the first time in 19 months. I woke up on my own, without my Hurricane alarm clock. And I made coffee before I changed a diaper. It's been an incredibly lazy morning, just the kind I like.



However, as I sit here drinking that coffee (and typing), I swear I keep thinking I hear the little whimpers my beautiful little son makes when he wakes from a sleepy nap. And then, I realize he's not here right now, and I have that oh darn feeling, like when you wake up from a great dream and realize you aren't really George Clooney's girlfriend. That's what I'm experiencing.

See, even though I can do whatever I want today, I keep thinking about what he's doing. In fact, I'm seriously resisting the urge to call my mom and see what they're doing right now. And I can't wait to see him tomorrow.

Because my thoughts are always with him. And even though my life doesn't revolve around and through him (because that's pressure he doesn't need), his is a very cherished room in our incredibly way full busy, beloved, and blessed house.

And even though on any given day, I would and will daydream for a day like this and remember my open-schedule days of yesteryear with blissful longing and a rose-colored sigh...here I am.

Enjoying the eye of the storm, but really missing the Hurricane.

Because I'm no longer that person of yesteryear. My heart has added an extra room.

And whether I completely understand it or not, I'm changed.

And that's what makes me a mother.


From Laura of Blog con Queso and Kirtsy.

Isabel Kallman's Birth Day Advice

See this picture? What do you see? You probably notice me nuzzling my newly–born son. Aww. Me? Yes, I see that too. But what I remember about this photo is my awful hair stuck in a rubberbanded bun. I admit I’m vain.

Remember your wedding? Remember the painstaking decisions over photographers, make-up and hair? Why? Because that stuff is being recorded forEVER in photographs and video and then being shared with friends all over the internet and shown to generations of family thereafter.

Well, same thing with the requisite new baby pictures. That’s right. Those photos get a lot of play too. The baby may be the center of attraction, but everyone loves to get a shot of the mom.

During childbirth (whether you’re medicated or not), there will be physical exertion. You will be laboring and pushing. And sweaty blown-out hair is still much better than sweaty non-blown-out hair.

If you’re pregnant for the first-time, you’re probably wondering exactly when you will have the time. A first-time mom will labor for approximately 24 hours. Even if you plan on requesting pain medication, like an epidural, a substantial part of your laboring will NOT take place at your birth facility, but at home. If that laboring takes place during the day, distraction is your best technique for easing contractions in the early phase. And thus this is the perfect time to get a hair blow-out. Also, I hate to break it to you, it may be the last time you’ll get one for a while.



If you can’t get your hair looking all purty for the main event, then I suggest you at least look in the mirror before the bulbs start flashing. You can thank me later.

From Isabel Kallman of Alphamom.

Pregnancy Thoughts by Irene from Bloesem

Irene, 30 weeks pregnant and her son, Lode.

Congratulations Gabrielle with this very good news. Of course I wish you a wonderful pregnancy. Not too long ago I was pregnant myself and I remember clearly how thankful (and relieved) I was every time I came back from my gynocologist knowing the baby was doing great — although I kept worrying even though he had told me everything was fine.

Yes, I'm the kind of mom who worries (and is in a panicky state) the entire 9 months. Caught between this amazing feeling of carrying a child inside of me and fear of the worst things that could happen to my baby. So basically for better or for worse I spend most of these 9 months in a sort of twilight zone. Very happy and very scared. I mean BIG time scared — will everything be okay? is it normal to feel like this? is my belly too small? — people asking me in week 30 whether I'm in my first trimester certainly doesn't help : ) And having had 3 miscarriages before didn't help either.

But I guess I am rather persistent and my wish to have a family is much bigger than my fear. So a new healthy baby boy arrived in our family. (Our second son. Men rule the house now — or at least that is what they think. 1:3 ratio. A walk in the park for any mom. And all 3 of them worship me (smile).) Looking back now I can only think of the special feeling I had knowing life was growing inside of me. It truly is the most spectacular feeling and I'm utterly amazed how this is even possible. Yeah, us women know how to create life (with a little help) and we should be so proud of this!

Living in Malaysia made my pregnancy much easier compared to living in the Netherlands, this might seem strange to you, because the Dutch healthcare system is pretty sophisticated, but when it comes down to pregnancies the Dutch tend to be behind the curve it seems. I admit, pregnancy is a natural thing, but to do away with regular check-ups, ultrasounds, painkillers and the almost enforced home deliveries (that is, if you don't deliver at home there must be something wrong with your attitude) — just not my cup of tea I think. Nope. I'd rather be in a safe environment and oh boy was I right.

My second boy was born via a c-section because on one of the ultrasounds the doctor noticed the cord was strangled around his neck and didn't want to take any risks, so at 36 weeks + 4 days the c-section was planned and when he was born we discovered the little Houdini had wrapped the cord around his neck 7 times. Seven times! With no regular ultrasounds after 20 weeks in the Netherlands I don't think anyone would have noticed and if they had I sincerely doubt whether they would never have delivered him so early.

I can't even begin to think of the possible consequences, so here's my big thank you for the fantastic doctors in Malaysia!! And for all of you who are pregnant I can only say ENJOY, enjoy. And for all of you who would like to get pregnant and have difficulties, don't give up. It took me and my husband 8 years as well and the wait was definitely worth it. No fear!

From Irene of BloesemKids.

Andrea Scher's Pregnancy Memory

My favorite pregnancy related memory actually happened long before Ben was even conceived. My now husband Matt and I had been dating for about six months when I laid my head down on the pillow to sleep next to him one night.

As I closed my eyes, I saw a flash of an image: It was like a photograph, one that I had taken, of Matt wearing a hiking backpack with a wee boy in the back. They were both squinting at me in the sun (looking impatient that I was taking another photo)... and I knew instantly that Matt was my husband and the little boy was our child.



It took two more years for Matt and I to marry, and despite our best efforts, three long years to conceive Ben. But through all of that time of infertility, through endless acupuncture appointments and doctor's visits, and through all the sadness and despair that came it, it was this picture, this memory, that I held onto.



It was the one thing that gave me faith that our boy was coming. I had seen him, and he was real.

From Andrea Scher of Superhero Journal.

Liz Fuller's Pregnancy Memories

When I was pregnant with my Sylvia, I watched the corn fields near our home grow just as she was growing in my belly. As they grew a little taller, my belly got a little bigger.

I was having a girl.



A true tom boy at heart myself with two boys at home, I felt scared to have a girl. I was worried I wouldn't know how to fix her hair. And bread, I didn't even know how to make home made bread! The endless list of traditional feminine skills I never had interest in learning began to suffocate me. I worried I would not be ideal for her. That surely this gender was misplaced into the wrong family, didn't the stork know I can't even twist together a respectable French braid!? I was concerned this little girl of mine would find me a big fat disappointment in the department of any and all things female.

The corn was getting taller and that meant she was coming soon. And I still had not learned how to bake bread! I remember being at the mall one day and selecting a first purchase just for her. A little red pair of shoes. It sounds silly for a little treasure like that to change my heart, but it did. I began to realize I had a lot to offer her, after all. That no matter who she would become or interests she would have, I would do what all mothers do best. Support her in her life. From astrology to fashion, arithmetic to nail polish I will guide her in her interests just as I do with my boys and their Bakugans.



Most importantly I will continue to work at being a good person, always refining my character as I lead these children by constant example.



My favorite moments during my third pregnancy were each and every time I thought of her. What she might be like and what her interests might be one day. What a privilege it is to be her mommy. And who knows, maybe one day she'll be teach me how to bake bread.

From Liz Fuller of Backward's Attraction.

Jennifer James' thoughts on Pregnancy

The very first time I met Gabrielle was at a Disney Mom Bloggers event last year. I was immediately struck by how stylish and beautiful she was. I mean, this woman can rock some clothes! It's amazing. I was also struck by how nice and generous she was. I absolutely loved meeting her and her presence stuck with me ever since. Gorgeous. Stylish. Mother of five. And unbelievably friendly. I love her!

Fast forward to August of this year and we attended the same event in San Francisco. This time we got to bring our kids and Gabrielle brought along Ralph, the sweetest kid on the planet. I had the chance to see Gabrielle as a mom this time and she is just as I had imagined: very cool, loving, affectionate, caring. Quite simply, Gabrielle is an amazing woman and mother.

A few weeks later when I heard Gabrielle was pregnant I was beyond thrilled! Pregnancy is such a lovely state to be in. I loved every moment of both my pregnancies and look back on those months with dreamy eyes. Save the early morning sickness, I felt the best I ever had when I was carrying my daughters who continue to sprout before my eyes.



I can only imagine how delighted the Blairs are to be expecting their sixth baby. Just being around Gabrielle and Ralph for a few days I know for sure how love dwells in their home and how generous they are raising their children to be. During the event Ralph allowed my oldest daughter to use his iPod Touch. He didn't put demands on her or even stand over her shoulder to make sure she didn't break it. My daughter was amazed. So many children she comes around are selfish with their possessions. That showed me, again, how amazing Gabrielle is as a parent. It showed.

I wish Gabrielle the happiest, healthiest, most amazing pregnancy on the planet. She deserves it because of who she is and the lives she touches. Plus, I can't wait to see how she rocks her maternity clothes!

From Jennifer James of The Mom Salon.

Laurie Smithwick's Pregnancy Thoughts

Bob and I had been trying to get pregnant for almost a year and it had finally worked. Somehow I convinced him to come with me to the OB’s office because, you know, he absolutely had to be there every step of the way. It turns out my OB/Gyn performs an early ultrasound at your first visit, just to confirm a “baseline” healthy pregnancy. So there we are, staring at the underwater outer-space forms on the tiny screen, with the OB decoding all the circles and clouds for us. She finds the baby’s tiny fluttery heartbeat and Bob and I laugh, thrilled, relieved and amazed. Then she’s quiet for a minute or two and finally says, “Okay, now I’m going to show you guys something that’s going to really freak you out.”

Bob and I look at each other. Really? Is she allowed to say things like that?

“See that circle? That’s your baby. And it looks great. And that cloudy area there is blah blah blahdy blah blah.”

“Oh get on with it please,” I want to say. “What are you trying to tell us?”

And then she points to something on the screen and says, “Do you see that circle there?”

I see it.

“That’s your other baby.”

At which point Bob and I explode into maniacal laughter that lasts for two weeks. No, seriously, every time we looked at each other we started to laugh. For weeks. Two babies.

Nine hilarious inflated months later, we become the proud, delighted, overwhelmed, underslept, blissful, and terrified parents of identical twin girls.

And seven years after that, looking back on that day in the doctor's office, I believe I can see a lesson: Learn to embrace the lack of control that having kids brings into your life.

Gabby, I know you don't need to learn this lesson -- you are the guru of acceptance. But it can never hurt to be reminded of just how very little control we have over even the most major events in our lives. And when that loss of control gives way to things like this:


...which can then give way to things like this:


...it's hard to miss it too terribly much.


Super humongo congratulations to you, Gab, and Ben Blair, and your whole fantastic gang. But the biggest congratulations of all go to Baby Six, who has no idea what a dream of a family he/she has landed him/herself in. Bravo to you all.

From Laurie of Leap Design and Kirtsy.

Practical Pregnancy Advice from Jenny the Bloggess

Advice for women who are too pregnant to function anymore:

Inevitably your husband will come home to find you unable to move under the weight of this gigantic fetus you are carrying and will want to know why the house is a mess and dinner isn't made and then you'll want to stab him because this is all his fault but you don't have the energy to find a clean knife.

And you'll want to explain how completely exhausting being pregnant is but men never understand so whenever Victor would say "How can you be tired? You hardly did anything today!" I'd respond, "I made someone's ear canals today. Inside my stomach. Without even using my hands. What did you do today? Paperwork? God, how exhausting. I MADE SOMEONE'S NERVOUS SYSTEM."

Then my husband would walk away, suitably impressed. Or scared. Either way he left me alone. And this is how you have a successful marriage.

from Jenny the Bloggess.

Joslyn Taylor's Pregnancy Memory

There were all manner of magical happenings when I was pregnant with my girlies: the first kick, that sort of glowly, endorphin-drenched daze that perpetuated my second trimester, and of course the birth —oh my, nothing tops that moment when you finally meet your child after what feels like eons of waiting and hoping and wondering… But my most poignant memories were the moments spent with my oldest daughter Audrey while I was pregnant with her little sister, Millie.

I was acutely aware during the entire pregnancy that this was the end of an era with Audrey, she’d no longer be an “only”; we’d no longer be a unit of three. Everything was about to become bigger, rowdier, more complex (and I truly believed) infinitely more fun. But I wanted to be sure Audrey and I had plenty of time to savor each other before our family became four. We went on a few family trips, planned lots of special outings and adventures and, every. single. night. before bed, she and I would sit on the floor and do a little pregnancy yoga together. Mostly it was just holding hands and stretching, but it was sweet and quiet and we connected to each other and to the new life about to join us.

From Joslyn Taylor of Simple Lovely.

Stephanie Brubaker's Pregnancy Memory

During my first pregnancy (and unfortunately subsequent pregnancies as well) I experienced morning sickness the entire 9 months. As a result, I relied heavily on my husband to take care of meal preparation. At one point in the pregnancy my husband was required to leave town for an entire week to complete some work training at company headquarters.

This felt like an eternity at the time and he and I became very concerned about what I would eat while he was away. So, he did what any outstanding husband would do...he went grocery shopping and then spent 6 hours in our tiny San Francisco kitchen making meals for the entire week. He placed a few in the freezer for me to reheat and a few in the fridge to eat first.

I remember going to bed early that evening and occasionally waking up to the oven timer beeping, or sizzling food in the cast iron pan. I smiled to myself and then went back to bed feeling very loved. I count this as one of my favorite memories during our {almost} 10-year marriage.

From Stephanie of Stephmodo.

Karen Walrond's Childbirth Memory

Alex, photographed September 16, 2009.

I can't tell you how thrilled I am about Gabby's wonderful news. I've only known Gabby for a couple of years now, but in my completely unprofessional opinion, this woman is made to be a mom, isn't she? When I look at her, I always think of the mother in "Little Women" — her children are surely blessed to have her to look up to, and this little one on his (her?) way is no exception.

When Gabby asked me to share a story with you here today, I immediately thought of the day my daughter Alex was born. Alex's birth story is one of my favourite memories thus far in being her mom. It's a bit of an unusual story, since she came to us via an open adoption: in other words, we have a relationship with her birthmother. While her birthmother was pregnant, I was able to go with her to prenatal doctor's visits, and, bless her, she invited my husband and I to be present at Alex's birth. It was a really cool experience — I'd never seen a child born before — but it was actually what happened immediately after Alex was born that made the event absolutely unforgettable. And even though I suspect that most expectant mothers at the point of childbirth, are a little ...well, preoccupied, let's say, what with the whole in-the-middle-of-giving-birth-thing, I tell Alex's birth story to every expectant mother, in the hope that just maybe she might be able to catch a glimpse of what I saw, during the birth of her own child.

So anyway, to the story: the baby was born, and she was upside down in the doctor's arms, and he was cleaning all the birth gunk from her face and neck. At this point, I was sort of numb, and my first thought was that it was not possible that this little, tiny doll-like being was going to come home with us in a couple of days.

My second thought was that this baby was the most beautiful shade of cerulean blue I had ever seen in my life.

Alex's birthmother asked, "Doctor, why isn't she crying?"

The doctor replied, "I don't want her to cry just yet. The umbilical cord was wrapped around her throat. Just one second."

The doctors and nurses kept doing their thing. I wasn't nervous, because they seemed pretty calm. A few more seconds passed, and then, just as I was wondering if I should be nervous, the doctor said:

"Okay, she's going to cry ... now."

And Alex inhaled. She just took this great, big, huge, breath ...

... and she turned pink. First her arms, then her hands, and then her legs and her little face and chest. And as crazy as this may sound, I am absolutely convinced that we'd just witnessed Alex's soul, which had been waiting in the delivery room with us, flying into her body, and giving her life. Even more, I absolutely, unshakably believed, at that very moment, that this little girl was meant to be ours, and that had we not been waiting there for her — had her birthmom decided not to place her, or has there been another adoptive family in the room — a different soul would've entered her body, and she would've been a totally different person.

And then she started to bellow.

Anyway, Alex has proved me right every day since. She's just .. well, she's just like us, I suppose. She gets our senses of humour. We're such a tight-knit family. We're a team. We fit.

So, I guess the point of all of this is that when you become a parent, whether by giving birth yourself or via adoption, you have to believe that God, or Allah, or Fate, or the Universe or Whatever You May Believe In has a plan. Trust that the child you bring home is meant to be yours and yours alone. It has always been this way. It will always be this way.

Congrats, Blairs. May your family ... your team ... continue to grow as tight-knit as ever.

From Karen Walrond of Chookooloonks.

Lindsey Johnson's Thoughts on Pregnancy

Lindsey, with her third child, Babetta, born last summer.

Pregnancy is one of those things in life that no amount of reading or advice from family and friends can ever prepare you for adequately. The same goes for that first moment you hold your new baby fresh and warm from the womb.

Like many women, I have my share of funny stories about pregnancy woes. I have heartwarming moments that will forever be with me in my memory.

I spent hours talking to my belly with each of my three pregnancies. There were sappy professions of love and undying devotion to being their mommy. There were mundane descriptions of traffic along the Bronx River Parkway on my way up to monthly appointments. There was music played and hands pressing firmly into my fleshy belly in hopes of feeling the gentle (or sometimes hard) kick or poke from a developing limb.

Each pregnancy taught me a different lesson about life. My very first pregnancy ended in miscarriage at 10 weeks. That experience taught me not to take the fragile miracle of life for granted. It taught me to stop blaming myself. It taught me yearn for something more.

Over the past 5 years and three full-term pregnancies, I learned new things about myself. I'm stronger and braver that I ever thought possible. I learned patience and endurance.

I learned funny things. For instance, I will never be able to look at a can of Chef Boyardee ravioli again. Or drink another glass of strawberry flavored Tang. And that if I am going to enjoy a splash Frank's Red Hot sauce, I better follow it with a chaser of Pepcid AC and Mylanta. I also became a pro at peeing in a cup and massaging my sore sciatic nerves each night.

More than anything else though, I've learned that love knows no boundaries. Love is not divided between husband and subsequent babies — it multiplies, it matures and deepens, it blossoms and flourishes. I learned to appreciate and love womanhood and the divine roll we play as mothers and nurturers.

And it is all worth it....even on days like this.


Lilly, Fritz, and Babetta posing for our Christmas card picture...that we never sent.

From Lindsey Johnson of Café Johnsonia.

Amy Turn Sharp's Pregnancy Advice

Amy, Finn, and Joe on babymoon in Miami.

Congrats Dearest Gabby and Family
Pregnancy is such a wonderful time in a woman's life!
You are growing a human! YOU ROCK!
Life is amazing and mind blowing!
I LOVE that you are bringing another cool and kind person into the world!

Some things I remember about being prego:
*I never stayed hydrated! Drink Gabs Drink!
You have such a full life and I am sure you attend to everyone else first — but just try and remember to drink tons of water. It makes for a happy mama body and mind. Keep a pretty carafe with a small water glass by your bed and work space.

* Yoga pants are your BFF!
(Old Navy size up last a long time.) Rock out as much non maternity as you can. Buy pieces you can wear after the baby too. I like a caftan! I love a tunic. Liz Lange tight black long sleeve tees! Dresses really are so simple when pregnant. You always look chic though gal. I can't wait to watch you guide us through your mama wardrobe!

* Shoes. I like a wedge when I'm knocked up!
I give up the heel. I bring out the the trusty guns. My feet are also size 11 now. Eeeks! Like Paris Hilton! They were 10's two boys ago.

*The wish for Freedom.
We are free to do what we want! The issue with motherhood I have found is sometimes other mothers can be a bit critical of each other. I wish we all would just support each other more. We make the best choices for our families and babies and issues from breastfeeding to labor to attachment parenting to sleep techniques and we should never be questioned. We need to rally around each other as women! Go LADY POWER!

*Rest is paramount.
With a large family, you should carve out time on your calendar now to have some help that is designated for you NOT working and JUST Sleeping! Schedule sleep! Take care of you! But have fun too! Everyone should take a wee weekend away before the baby comes no matter how many kiddos you have. Ask for help when you need it. Really. Ask for help when you need it.

*Document it all.
How many of us loved this blog this year? OH MY! I was guilty of not allowing anyone to photograph me while pregnant with my boys. I wish I had not been so silly in retrospect. Take photos of your beautiful body! You should use your awesome house DIY projects as props! Belly shots on a rocker or by your new family table?

*Don't be stressed if you can't journal or write down things because your so busy!
Everyone does things differently! My second son does not even have a proper baby book! We instead make mix tapes of music that mattered to the boys, write letters to the future when we can, use flickr and blog the family now. I make up new traditions each year! Just go with the flow. Find what works for you!

Life is so amazing. Oh yeah — BABY NAMES!!! How fun is this? I must go before I get the FEVER myself!

From Amy Turn Sharp of Doobleh-vay.