One Year Ago...

I can't believe it's been a year since my Lu was born.  I know that time flies that first year...I prepared myself to savor every moment.  And yet, it feels as if that first year escaped me.  Seriously....how did my little one grow so fast?

I realized that I never shared the beautiful photos my brother took after Lucia was born.  Our intention was for him to be there to photograph the birth.  I was in the middle of intense labor when my doula asked if we should call him.  At the moment, the thought of having a person snapping pictures during my contractions really set me off.  So I asked her to wait.  I didn't think of it again until it was almost time to push.  So....he missed the birth.  I was really bummed about it for a while, thinking I would have loved to have the birth and everything that led up to it photographed.  In hindsight, I think it was good he wasn't there.  I'm glad he was able to capture what he did, but obviously my gut knew that I wouldn't be entirely comfortable with photography during my labor.

Here are a few of the photos...

This was taken almost right after Lu was born.  I was in the herbal bath my midwife prepared waiting for Lu to come join me. I remember feeling so exhilarated...though you may not see that on my face here.

This photo right here is my favorite of the bunch.  I literally gasped when I first saw it.  I remember just being in awe of this little person that I was holding.  And still totally shocked Lu was a girl.  I was convinced my entire pregnancy that I was having a boy.

Right after our bath the midwife took Lu to weigh her.  She used an old, metal scale.  I remember looking at the scale and wondering how many babies had been weighed on it.  So many.  I also remember that I had washed our towels the night before and they were still in the dryer.  I'm pretty sure I had to ask the midwife's apprentice to go get them out of the dryer for us in the middle of labor.

Here she is on the scale...I love seeing her wrinkly skin in this one.  She weighed 7lbs 6 oz....just two ounces more than Z.

Still in the bathroom...Joe and the midwife dressed Lu while I soaked in the tub.

Joe with Lu after they got her dressed.  He told me that when he got back to the room it was all cleaned up from the birth already.  Those apprentices are fast!  I love the look on his face here....exhaustion and joy (he worked pretty hard during the labor and birth too).

This photo is so interesting to me.  It's right after my bath.  I remember feeling so relieved and incredibly empowered...but I look totally wiped out.  Our priest is praying for us and Joe is beside me holding Lu.  Our doula is on the floor nursing her son.  This moment felt strangely sacred.  There was a lot of love in that room.

This was taken in the evening, after Joe and I returned from the emergency room.  I had to go to get sutured since our midwife does not suture.  Azalia had been out with her Abita (short for Abuelita) and Tia Sarah all day.  They took her out to celebrate her birthday, which was the following day.  Although Z was present for the birth, this was the first time she got to hold her sister.  I'm so glad that my brother captured this moment.

Many, many thanks to my brother, Nate, for these after birth photos.  They are such a treasure.

Compassionate Advocacy

Code Name: Mama is hosting their Carnival of Natural Parenting today!  The theme this month is compassionate advocacy.  Lots of different bloggers have written about how they advocate for natural parenting choices without judgement or criticism.  Subjects range from birth to gentle discipline.  I haven't read through all the participant's entries yet, but I am looking forward to having a little bit of down time this afternoon and browsing through the posts!  I could definitely use some suggestions on this subject.  Sometimes I feel like I can be so passionate about our parenting choices that it can come across as harsh or judgmental to others who do not choose to parent the same way.  So, if you consider yourself a natural parent, and even if you don't, you may enjoy reading these posts too!

We had a home birth (and you can too!) Part 1

*This will be the first in a series of posts about our birth choices*

If you know me in person you have more than likely heard me gush about our recent home birth.  It's hard for me to not talk about how amazing the birth was and it's even harder for me to not shout to every pregnant woman I see "YOU SHOULD HAVE A HOME BIRTH!  OUR BODIES WERE MADE FOR THIS!!"

Ahem.

I really detest the word "should" when it comes to parenting advice.  "You should just let her cry it out....." or "You should just spank her..." has been uttered to me many a time by people meaning well.  However, to me, the word should sounds like "I know better than you do and you should listen to me...."

So, I won't use the 's' word.  Instead, I will simply share with you what brought us to the decision to have Lucia (and any other future children) at home.  Maybe you'll read something that makes you think.  Maybe you'll just read an interesting story.  Maybe one day you'll have a home birth.

20ish weeks pregnant with Azalia

I used to think of home birth as something for natural birth extremists or hippies.  Not for me.  No thank you.  I want a natural, drug-free birth, but in the safety and security of a hospital with emergency personnel standing by, please. 

Then I gave birth to my first daughter, Azalia.  We had been planning and preparing for a drug-free birth the whole pregnancy.  We told almost everyone we knew about this decision.  And almost every single person told us, "Oh...just you wait" or "You're probably going to want that epidural at some point..." and even "Are you crazy?!  Do you just love pain?"  We chose to go to a midwife for the prenatal care because we knew that midwives were low-intervention and very woman-centered.  We read this book and practiced all the relaxation exercises the last few months of the pregnancy.  We took a Lamaze class from the hospital in which our baby would be born so we would be familiar with the procedures there.  We typed up a birth plan that included "Our desire is to birth our baby drug-free" and "I would prefer to tear naturally and do not consent to an episiotomy".   We were prepared. 

Then the day came.  Sometime soon I will type up Azalia's birth story.  But for now, know that it did not go as we hoped and I was very close to a c-section because of a spiral of interventions.  We did achieve the drug-free birth for which we worked so hard.  I was feeling the natural birth high, but because many things happened that were out of my control, I looked back on that birth experience with a little bit of disappointment.  (I really, really dislike when mothers express the slightest disappointment with their birth experience and are met with "Oh, but you had a healthy baby, that's all that matters".  No, you are invalidating that mother's experience when you tell her that.)

We did it!  We had a natural birth!

A couple years after Azalia's birth we were thinking about trying for another baby.  We also watched this movie.  I was doing a lot of reflection on my first birth experience as we prepared for our second child.  And I realized that the kind of birth that we were wanting and hoping for was not going to be in a hospital.  It would be in our home.

I began reading birth stories online about women giving birth at home.  I could feel how empowered they felt, I could see the strength in their stories.  I knew what natural birth felt like....I wanted to know what it was like to give birth to my baby in our home.  I didn't want to worry about labor slowing down or stopping when I was transported to the hospital.  I didn't want the pressure of an epidural.  I didn't want a doctor (yes, the backup doctor attended Z's birth) telling me to lay on my back and cutting me without consent.  I wanted to walk around my own home and smell my things and eat whenever I wanted.  I wanted to cuddle up with my little one and my husband in our own bed.  I wanted to feel safe.

Then, we had our miscarriage.  Losing Seraphim made me even more convinced about home birth.  I wasn't sure if we were going to have another baby, but if we did, I wanted that baby born at home.

After the miscarriage, Joe and I discussed home birth.  He was actually born at home! I assumed he would be 100% for home birth, especially since he knew we could birth naturally.  I was wrong.  He was hesitant.  We decided to talk with some more people, I gave him some things to read.  I really wanted a home birth, but I knew I would not be able to do it without his support.  This birth was as much his as it was mine.  I needed him to be just as passionate about it as I was.  So I prayed and I waited.

The Birth of Lucia Grace

I want to start off by saying that my husband is the most amazing man in the world. When I labor with him and bring a baby into the world with him I realize all over again why I love this man. He was my rock and strength during the fast 6 hours of labor of this baby and I am in total awe of him.

Labor began at 5:30 Thursday morning. I had been having some strong contractions in the middle of the night when I would get up to go to the bathroom. I didn't really think anything of them, just though maybe I ate something that wasn't agreeing with me. Then, at 5:30 I could not fall back asleep. I decided to go downstairs because I felt that I needed to pace with the contractions. I was trying to time them in my head and thought they were only lasting 30 seconds, but later realized that they were about 1 minute in length and about 3-5 minutes apart. My husband came down at 6 am and knew that labor had begun, but I was still in denial. He kept asking if we should call the midwife, but I wanted to wait, thinking that once I went to the bathroom I would be fine. I did go to the bathroom and the contractions only increased in strength. I was still able to walk during them, but they were so intense that I had to stop talking during one. So at 6:30 we decided to call the midwife, who had quite a drive ahead of her. After we called the midwife we called our doula, the amazing Stephanie Dank, and my mother.

Our daughter slept in and my husband actually ended up waking her around 8 am. By that point the contractions were very intense. I decided to start singing a tune each time I got a contraction. I'm not sure why, but it really helped to start off high, then get lower as the contraction ended. Z really liked that I was "singing to baby turtle" and wanted to help sing too. Our doula came around 9. Shortly before she arrived I decided I needed to be in our bedroom. I was grateful that it was cloudy and overcast outside, I really need dark when I labor. Z unplugged the clock in our room and Joe was about to plug it back in but I told him to leave it unplugged. So after Steph arrived I was not aware of time passing, just the intensity of labor.

Our priest came in and prayed for us and blessed me with the most heavenly smelling oil. It was wonderful to catch whiffs of it as I worked through the contractions. I ended up needing a lot of back pressure, so Joe and Steph took turns applying pressure during my contractions. I know that they were pushing as hard as the could, and I would always tell them it wasn't hard enough. My poor husband's arms were incredibly sore the next day...and he is in shape, so that tells you how hard I needed pressure!

I had some incredible moments of rest in between the contractions. Some moments I felt I was actually able to feel a contraction come on and tell my body, "Please, just wait a little bit...I just need to lay here for a time" and the contraction would subside. That rest was the sweetest rest I had gotten in months.

I got up to use the restroom a couple of times and my doula noticed that I seemed to handle the contractions a little better sitting on the toliet. We decided to move into the bathroom and I went through transition on the toliet. I remember feeling pressure and knowing it wasn't the baby but being very confused about what was happening. I yelled "Somethings coming out of me!" and then I felt my water break. That's when things got very real and it was evident this baby was going to come soon.

I soon felt the urge to push, but remember telling myself that it was way to early to do so, considering the midwife wasn't there yet. As I was sitting on the toliet I began to feel my body bearing down, even though I wasn't consciously pushing. Then I had a couple of contractions where I felt like I couldn't handle what was happening. I remember violently shaking my hands out in front of me. My doula could tell I was struggling and suggested that if I was fighting the urge to push that I should pretend to blow out a candle. That calmed me down a bit, but I still felt the need to push. The midwife's apprentice suggested that it was time to move back into the bedroom unless I wanted to have the baby on the toliet.

As we walked to the bedroom I heard someone say, "They are here now....your midwife is here". I didn't even wait for her to come up. I just got on my hands and knees on the bed and started pushing. At some point someone suggested that we put the birthing ball on the bed so that I could lay on it for support. So I kneeled on the birth ball and in between pushes I was able to lay on it and rest. Our doula asked my mom to come up with my daughter. Joe and I had decided we wanted her to be present for the birth, so she could see her sister or brother come into this world. She seemed to be doing well, though my mom told me later at one point she looked like she was really scared. But then later I heard her ask if she could go to her room. She sounded bored :)

As I pushed I could feel my baby getting closer and closer. It was incredible. Our midwife suggested I reach down and feel the head. That was very motivating to me, because I could feel how close she really was. And I felt her hair! I remember saying out loud how happy I was she had so much hair, that all the heartburn was worth it. Then I remember feeling really happy in between pushes. I said, "Oh Baby Turtle, I can't wait to meet you!". This was something that our daughter said to my belly almost everyday. It just kept repeating in my head, over and over. After a half-hour of pushing, Baby Turtle was born at 11:33 a.m, September 23rd, 2010. Since I was on my hands and knees I couldn't see her right away. I heard a little cry, but she was mostly quiet. And no one had said whether she was a boy or a girl yet! Joe caught her and held her briefly, then passed her up to me. Then I asked, "Did anyone look to see if Turtle is a boy or a girl?" as I opened up the towel. I remember thinking, "Where's the penis?" as I looked at her then said, "A girl!" We were shocked. We all thought Turtle was a boy, except for Azalia. The whole pregnancy she called Turtle a girl. She was right!

Joe was able to cut the cord after it stopped pulsing. The scissors were a little dull, so our midwife actually got sprayed with blood as he cut it! Then we nursed for a long time while I had some contractions. About a half-hour after Lucia was born I pushed out the placenta. Then the midwife helped us into our herbal bath. It was heavenly! Lucia really enjoyed it too. She was so alert and calm the whole time. As I soaked in the bath they weighed and measured her and checked her heart rate. All of this took place right beside the tub so that Lucia was never out of my presence. That was so comforting. After our bath Joe, Lucia and I were tucked into bed. My mom had already taken Z out of the house for a day of fun. Our doula had made us the most amazing zucchini fritters. I didn't eat a whole lot during the labor, so I was starving, and this was just what I needed. After everyone left, we took the most glorious nap together, then woke up and decided to go to the emergency room. I had a 2nd degree tear that needed to be sutured. Our midwife said it needed to be done, but not right away, so we napped first.

The emergency room was an interesting experience. We were treated very nicely by all the nurses, but the doctor was a total jerk and tried to intimidate me. He wanted me to give him our midwife's name, but I refused. He got a phone call and left the room. I turned to my husband and said, "If he comes back in here I'm asking for a different doctor. There is no way I'm letting this man touch me". When he did return he came back with our chosen back up doctor, who did an amazing job stitching me up! I was so grateful.

We came home to a house full of family and food. Z gave me the biggest hug when we walked in. There were cinnamon rolls baking in the oven, baked lovingly by my sister. Z's birthday was the following day and we had promised her cinnamon rolls for breakfast. Our families didn't stay for very long so that we could rest. Joe put Z to bed, then our friend and doula, Steph, returned with a celebration drink for us, wheat beer, to help my milk come in. We reflected on the birth together and Steph shared some things that really stuck out to her. It was cool to get her perspective on it all. After she left, Joe, Lucia and I all snuggled into bed together. As I lay there trying to fall asleep I remember thinking how crazy it was that we had a baby!

The home birth experience was incredible. I can't even begin to describe how wonderful it was to labor in my own home. Z's birth was natural, but in a hospital and there were many things that happened that I did not have any control over. This birth was different. Joe and I were able to be together and move about the house as we desired. I did what my body told me to do, without being questioned by nursing staff or doctors. And besides the emergency room and the pediatrician, I did not leave the house until yesterday. I know that home birth is not for everyone, but I wish that every mother could experience an empowering birth, a birth that makes them feel like their bodies were made for just this purpose, to bring a life into the world.

Braxton Hicks and Feeling Like a Whale

We are officially 37 weeks pregnant. This baby could come literally anytime now. That exhilarates, yet terrifies me. We are "prepared". We have clothes, we have our bed, my breasts are ready to start producing milk (TMI?). Diapers are washed and folded, waiting for a tiny little person to fill them. The house is a mess, but I'm getting little nesting urges that will take care of that. I had the most unnatural desire to dust all the walls in my house today. I have yet to do it, but I want it done. Pregnancy is funny.

It's hard to believe how quickly this pregnancy has gone. It's also hard to believe that it has been a year since we became pregnant with Seraphim and just as quickly lost him. The loss of that little one has been heavy on my heart these past few days. Just one year after we lost him we are preparing to welcome another little one into the world. It's beautiful and heartbreaking.

Z is growing excited for Turtle's arrival. With her excitement, however, comes defiance and independence. She knows that life is going to change. She can sense it in the air, see it in the house, in our faces. As excited as she is, she's fighting this change with all the strength her 3 year old body can muster. To say it's been trying is an understatement. Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on us! All of us need patience.

And so, we wait. As I grow larger and larger by the second, we wait. With each "practice" contraction my body is slowly preparing itself for labor and the birth of our sweet Baby Turtle. Come soon! But not too soon.

On Melting Down and Humility

Sometimes, pregnancy can bring out the worst in me.

Let me preface this by saying that I am one of those women that LOVES being pregnant. Seriously, I love it. As soon as that baby belly pops out I am given this super human strength and confidence unlike any I have while I am not pregnant. I become assertive and speak my mind. I know what I want and I don't mind asking people to get it for me. Never am I more comfortable in my own skin than when I am pregnant.

However, with this assertiveness, strength and confidence comes an ugly side. A part of me that loses patience more easily, snaps at the slightest teasing comment or just completely loses control of emotions rises to the surface. Oh is it ugly. Unfortunately, its the people that I love the most that receive this ugly side.

The other day I snapped at my beautiful daughter. Like, seriously snapped. So much that it stopped her in her tracks and she looked at me with this look I have never seen before. I believe it was a mixture of fear and confusion. She had no idea why I would speak to her like I had. I immediately felt guilty and apologized.

My sweet, patient, loving husband gets it too. And when I think about it...really think about it, I feel awful. How can I treat the ones I love with such impatience and disrespect? What is wrong here? What am I missing?

As I went to confession this last week, these incidents were weighing heavily on my mind. As I confessed my sins to Christ and my Father I immediately felt the weight lifted and my eyes were opened to what was missing. "How can you expect to be patient and kind," my Priest asked "if you forget God?"

And there it was. I forget God.

Sure, I could blame the pregnancy hormones on my mood swings and my impatience. That would be easy. That wouldn't require any change of me.

But it's more than that. I have neglected prayer. I have not asked God to help me to love unceasingly. I have forgotten Him entirely.

I will end with a quote from Saint John of Kronstadt, taken from a booklet entitled Children in the Church Today. I will shorten the passage, since it is quite lengthy, but encourage you to read the entire passage if you can get a hold of it.

In everything and at every time strive to please God and think of the salvation of your soul from sin and from the Devil, and its adoption by God. On rising from your bed, make the sign of the Cross and say: "In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit," and also, "Vouchsafe, O Lord, to keep us this day without sin and teach me to do Thy will." While washing, either at home or at the baths, say: "Purge me with hyssop, Lord, and I shall be clean; wash me and I shall be whiter than snow." When putting on your linen, think of the cleanliness of the heart, and ask the Lord for a clean heart: "Create in me a clean heart, O God!" If you have made new clothes and are putting them on, think of the renewal of the spirit and say: "Renew a right spirit within me"; laying aside old clothes, and disdaining them, think with still greater disdain of laying aside the old man, the sinful, passionate, carnal man. Tasting the sweetness of bread, think of the true bread, which gives eternal life to the soul--the Body and Blood of Christ--and hunger after this bread--that is, long to communicate of it oftener. Drinking water, tea, sweet-tasting mead or any other drink, think of the true drink that quenches the thirst of the soul inflamed by passions--of the most pure and life-giving Blood of the Saviour. Resting during the day, think of the eternal rest, prepared for those who wrestle and struggle against sin, against the subcelestial spirits of evil, against human injustice or rudeness or ignorance.....

St. John of Kronstadt continues on with many other times of day and actions we take in our daily lives. Even if all I do is begin my day like he suggests, I have a feeling I would be less impatient, less snippy and more loving.

Lord, have mercy!

Mother's Day

It has been so long. I apologize for abandoning this blog. For a while now I feel that I have been in survival mode. With morning sickness (that hung on just a little too long) and the tailbone injury that still pains me, we are just now getting back to normal.

We have been through an incredible journey. We are now a part of the Orthodox Church! I cannot even begin to describe the beauty of our Chrismation/Baptism service. That is for another post, when I feel I can process a little more what I want to say. It's almost like when people ask you, "So, how's marriage?" shortly after your wedding. How can you even began to answer that question? It's amazing, painful, beautiful and heartbreaking all at once.

Thanks to a friend of mine, I have been interested in finding out the origins of Mother's Day. I found that Julia Ward Howe, the author of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic", was the first to fight for an official Mother's Day. Her Mother's Day proclamation brought chills.

Arise, then, women of this day!

Arise, all women who have hearts,
Whether our baptism be of water or of tears!

Say firmly:
"We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We, the women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."

From the bosom of the devastated Earth a voice goes up with our own.
It says: "Disarm! Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice."
Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war,
Let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel.

Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means
Whereby the great human family can live in peace,
Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
But of God.

In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality
May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient
And at the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions,
The great and general interests of peace.

Almost 3 years ago my beautiful daughter was born. We will welcome another little one into the world around the time of her 3rd birthday. Motherhood has been an incredible journey. I have learned so much from my daughter and am still learning from her. I feel honored to have a day to celebrate this wonderful journey of motherhood.

Can you imagine, though, if on Mother's Day, instead of buying our mothers flowers or candy, we held a "general congress of women without limit of nationality....to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of peace."?

It would be a powerful day.

Thank you, my beautiful Azalia, for giving me the motivation to make this world a peaceful place.

The Big Announcement

Things have been a little quiet around here. I've probably written this post a million times in my head and almost published it, then thought better of it. For 12 weeks (well, more like 9 weeks) we have kept the tiniest little secret and told only close family and friends. Because of our past loss, we wanted to be sure that this was happening, this was going to succeed. And after Wednesday afternoon, we were told by our midwife as we listened to the beautiful little heartbeat of our new baby that our chance for miscarriage now was 2%. It was time! We are having a baby!

Our due date is October 1st. That was also Z's due date. I guess that January is a good baby making month for us :) I, obviously, have been extremely exhausted and nauseous 24/7. I feel that I am coming around the bend now. My energy is up, my appetite is slowly returning. On top of the morning sickness, about 4 weeks ago I bruised/broke my tailbone. It was an accident involving a wooden chair and lots of pain. My husband has been a tremendous help to me during this time. I can't even explain how in awe of this man I am. Every time I think I've gotten a handle on how amazing he is I am once again blown away.

And Z. My little mija. She has been so sweet. We told her early on that there was another little baby growing in Mommy's belly. She at once began talking to the baby at least twice a day. She kisses baby and gives him a big hug, then whispers "I can't wait to see you baby!". It's enough to put a hormonal pregnant mother in tears every time. Recently, she was having a conversation with the baby. She is convinced that she can see the baby through my belly button. This girls imagination....incredible. I asked her to ask the baby what his name is. She replied, "He said his name is Turtle." Turtle, baby Turtle.

We can't wait to meet you Turtle.

When You Wake Up

I feel as if I'm slowly waking up from a horrible nightmare. The kind in which you can't move when something is chasing you. The kind in which you scream at the top of your lungs, yet no sound is heard. The kind that is real.

On September 5th I took a pregnancy test. It was positive. I rejoiced! My husband and I shared a secret moment of happiness and joy while our sister-in-law and niece and nephew played in our living room. We spent the day with my husband's family and passed secret "We're having a baby!" glances at one another throughout our time together. We were happy.

A couple of days later the spotting started. I immediately called my mother who told me to calm down. It was probably nothing. It would go away. It did go away. Worries gave way to more rejoicing. We told our daughter, "You are going to be a big sister!"

This is where dates and times begin to run together. I only remember the bleeding. The sinking feeling. Knowing that my baby left me. We had so many appointments that week. But I didn't need the radiologist to tell me. Or the midwife. Or the doctor. I knew. My baby was gone and all I felt was empty.

Today is the beginning of a long road of grief, anger, worry, sadness, joy and....who knows what else. I've felt numb for weeks. It's been difficult for me to even face the reality of this. But I need to start somewhere. Right now my emotions are too raw. Just the simple question, "How are you?" puts me in tears. The world is moving so quickly and all I want to do is sit still. People (with wonderful intentions) ask when we will be able to try again. All I want to say to them is "Please, don't rush me. I'm not ready".

Last week my husband and I sat on the couch, trying to grasp what happened. Asking the whys and not hearing the answers. Or being too afraid to hear the answers. We decided to name the baby. The name Seraphim popped into my head. As I pondered that thought my husband spoke, "Seraphim is a good Saint name".

Seraphim. It's perfect.

It's All In the Timing

I've had baby #2 on my mind for quite some time.

It began when I weaned Azalia (or forced her to continue nursing until I was ready to let go). I remember in the early stages of nursing her that I couldn't wait until she was 6 months old. I told myself I would nurse at least for 6 months. Then, I really began to enjoy it. It was wonderful to sit and bond that way. At family gatherings I looked forward to that alone time I would have with her when she was hungry. I would have that 20-30 minutes before my loving siblings would steal her away from me again. Around 10 or 11 months it became increasingly difficult to get her to sit for a nursing session. She ate well...but was more interested in discovering the world around her now that she was mobile. So at 13 months I gave her her last feeding from Mama and she hasn't looked back since.

Immediately after she weaned I started thinking about baby #2. Joe was not ready for that. So we thought about it and prayed about it. And I asked him every night, "So...when do you want to try for little Michaiah?" (Michaiah is what we would like to name our son...Lord willing, if we have a son) Needless to say, me bringing it up every night was a bit much for him. We set a tenative "let's start trying in May" date, since that would be around our 3rd wedding anniversary. Now with May around the corner, I'm becoming hesitant again. I keep thinking of all these things I want to do that pregnancy would hinder. But when I start thinking like that I begin to feel guilty. I tell myself that I'm being selfish. Then I look at our beautiful daughter and am reminded of how blessed we are to be her parents. And I see how she would benefit from a little sibling to boss around (and love, of course).

I feel that this whole process is a lot harder than I thought it would be. Baby #1 was not planned, as many of you know. When we found out we were pregnant my mothering instincts kicked into high gear (with help from my hormones) and we started preparing for her arrival. It was difficult along the way, simply because we had been married for only, oh, 9 months. I felt like I was just getting a grip on how to be a wife. Then I had to throw being a mother in the mix! I shed my share of tears and worries, but we were able to get through it.

Now that we are, in a sense, getting to choose when this 2nd baby will come it seems so hard! What if it's too soon? What if it's too late? What if we can't get pregnant right away? Even though I know when my fertile days are (thanks Natural Family Planning!) won't that just zap the romance out of making love and turn it into an obligation? I know that most of these worries are just that...worries. And I know that no matter how much I plot and plan, ultimately, this is in God's hands. So baby #2, come when you want...we are waiting for you.