Monday, June 30, 2014

Anna Michele

Sweet baby Anna Michele was born on Tuesday, May 20th at 11:42 a.m. She weighed 6 lbs, 15 oz and was 18 inches long. She is perfect. Here's her story...


Abby and Elise were an emergency c-section in July 2008. Five years later, one baby on the way, and with the support of my hubby, I made a very informed decision to pursue a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean). I am woman, hear me roar! My body was meant to birth a baby and that experience is one I just needed to have, or at least try and have. The hospital here in town does not perform VBACs, so that meant switching doctors and opting to deliver in Overland Park. Enter our doulas. During my first trimester, I contacted two amazing women who I had connected with through Baby Sing and Sign: Stefanie and Lindsay. "Doula" from that point forward became an integral part of everyone in this household's vocabulary. 

Artwork by Abby: "Doolis" = "Doulas"
As I mentioned on the blog before, we hit our first hiccup around 28 weeks when Baby Lawrence developed a heart arrhythmia. After much monitoring, our fears lessened as the babe continued to develop beautifully and the arrhythmia faded. Our next hiccup came at 37 weeks when my blood pressure skyrocketed. Seriously? Blood pressure? All we could think was "how could that be my issue? I have the lowest blood pressure EVER!". I spent a week on modified bed rest, checking my BP too many times at home, and crossing my fingers that my pregnancy would continue. Here's the deal: with a VBAC, I was not a candidate for any type of medical induction. That's one of the caveats - to induce before the body is ready often leads to a longer, more strenuous labor which raises possible risks and complications for a VBAC. At my 38 week check-up, while my BP was within an acceptable range, the fluid around Baby L had dropped to a level that required delivery in the near future. It was go-time.

While I still was not dilated or feeling contractions, after checking into the hospital on Monday afternoon, the midwife on duty was able to insert a Cook's Catheter. For those that like details, this is essentially a catheter for your cervix. This does not require any drugs and was our only hope to get labor started. While contractions came on fairly strong after it was inserted, they lessened and we hunkered down for the night - best case scenario was that, by morning, the cook's catheter had done it's job and I would be dilated to a 5. 

Tuesday morning, the catheter was removed. I was indeed dilated to a 5. At 8:00, my midwife, Sarah, came and broke my water and, within a half an hour, contractions started. From there on out, it was a perfect VBAC. I was able be up and about, moving through the contractions as they intensified. My mom, John, and Stefanie were awesome - keeping me company, offering support, and chatting away the morning. By 11:00 I was fully dilated and Anna was born at 11:42 a.m. Everyone was expecting a boy, except for Stefanie! Although, before even asking if she was a girl or a boy, as I reached to hold her, out of my mouth popped "Oh, I'm so sorry about your head!"... poor little head looked as though it had been squished through a small opening. Oh wait... it had been. ;) I cut the cord myself, since it wasn't a task that either my mom or John wanted and we all soaked up that moment of holding, seeing, and loving a newborn baby. It was my perfect drug-free, all-natural, birth experience. 


Until... I'll make a very long story somewhat brief... Anna didn't rotate when she was born, so her shoulders came through square. I had third degree tears that were quickly attended to. While that procedure was taking place, concerns arose that my bleeding was not slowing. There was talk that part of the placenta had not detached from the uterus or that there was a blood clot issue... regardless, the looks on everyone's faces were changing. After the tears were repaired and the nurses were doing their post-procedure utensil/material count, they discovered a mis-count: one of the sponges used was missing. So... this led to intensely painful internal checks as well as a complete emptying, spreading out, and examining of the trash receptacles that contained far more blood than anyone should have to see. I also had to be x-rayed to make sure the sponge wasn't inside, all the while my blood pressure was plummeting. John, my mom, and Stefanie paced about the room, passing Anna back and forth as we wanted her kept with us at all times. She was a peach! But honestly, the room looked like a gory scene from a murder movie and, according to John, I wasn't looking much better than death. 

Throughout the afternoon, about every 30 minutes, the nurses would have to come and "massage" my stomach/uterus to determine if the bleeding was slowing. I would birth that baby all over again rather than experience hours of that. I remember passing Anna over to someone when they would come in because I had to brace myself on the sides of the bed - the pain was horrible. By early evening, I had lost too much blood to ignore and at 9:00 that night, they started a blood transfusion. The transfusion was the first event of the day that I couldn't handle - it sounded scary and serious and I didn't want someone else's blood. John had left to see Abby and Elise and head home for some sleep; my mom stayed with me. It was a phone call to John that helped calm me down. And, throughout the night, the company of my mom that took the fears away. The toll on my body from the blood loss showed itself in two ways: I had a raging headache for about five days and my milk didn't come in. We came home on Thursday; by Friday morning I had a hungry baby and I was completely stressed out. I texted Stefanie around 6:30... she was at our door 15 minutes later, following closely by my mom. The "hiccups" continued and, as we ventured out to have Anna checked by the pediatrician and acquire a breast pump, our car died and we spent a good portion of time stranded in a parking lot with a 4 day old baby. 

Here we are, six weeks later... Anna's arrival wasn't without it's fair share of stress and complications. I am so grateful to my "team" - I will never forget John bringing me home from the hospital and promptly preparing a steak, to up my iron count, while chanting "we're gonna make some milk!", in an effort to boost my spirits about my lack of lactation ... or my mom tearing up when we told her that her we had chosen her name for Anna's middle name, a choice that came easy for us after the love and support she provided during an exciting and terrifying time... or Stefanie's calm, kind voice saying "you're doing great, Erin" through each contraction... or Sarah sitting down on the edge of the bed in such a relaxed and compassionate manner, ready to hand our baby to us.


Anna Michele - you are so loved. I can't begin to count the number of times a day Abby and Elise kiss you on the head. You are six weeks old and still sleeping with me... partly because you only get up once during the night when you're there but also because it's the most wonderful thing in the world. You weigh over 8 pounds now, wearing up to 3-month size clothes and bigger than your sisters were at almost 4 months; you grunt, squirm, and stretch ALL the time; you cannot keep your hands away from your face, much like you were in every. single. ultrasound; you're holding your head up like a boss; and a week ago you started smiling at us - and I'm not talking about a little smirk... your mouth opens up as wide as possible, your tongue sticks out, and you SMILE! Yesterday, Gran, Abby, Elise, you, and I went to see The King and I at the theater. It was over 3 hours long - you slept for the first 2 hours, nursed for a bit, and slept through the rest. At one point, you started tooting, which wasn't quiet, and I was terrified of a full-on blow out during a very quiet scene. Thank you for resisting the urge, literally. Your first outing was to the pediatrician's office, followed by Gran and Grandpa's house. At 11 days old, you went with us to the farmer's market. The sling that I wear you in is like a baby sleeping pill and you've since slept through countless outings. Your hair looks lighter than your big sisters' and your eyes are still blue. Most importantly, you complete our family. After Abby and Elise were born, I wasn't even out of the hospital and was thinking about "the next time". You fulfilled my "next time" and this time, before leaving the hospital, I was thinking "family of 5...perfect". I love you.

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Say, make, eat, paint, and play!

Over the past few weeks...

We've said this:

Abby to Elise: "Oh, your picture is EXQUISITIVE!"
Abby to me: "Mom, how do you spell "coronation"?"
Elise to me: "I love you more than $129!"
Elise to my belly, every night: "I love you baby!"
Abby's baby names: Peter or Carrie
Elise's baby names: Rosella, Violet, Daisy, or Tommy

We made these:


We ate this:


Quinoa Cookies
  • 1 1/2 C organic stone ground whole wheat pastry flour
  • 1 tsp Himalayan pink salt
  • 1/2 tsp baking soda
  • 1/2 tsp baking powder
  • 1/2 C organic unsalted butter
  • 1/2 C organic coconut sugar
  • 1/4 C local honey
  • 2 local organic eggs
  • 1 tsp homemade vanilla
  • 1 C cooked organic quinoa
  • 1/2 C unsweetened coconut
  • 1 C chocolate chips (optional)
    • Bake at 375 degrees for 12-15 minutes
Quinoa Breakfast Bowl
  • Cooked organic quinoa
  • Organic milk
  • Cinnamon
  • Local, raw honey
  • Organic raw pumpkin seeds
  • Organic banana
  • Unsweetened coconut

We painted here:


And we played this way:


It has been wonderful to be outside... making mud pies, playing in the fairy garden, filling pots with herbs and flowers. We miss our chicken companions - the remaining two, Lavender and Pip, found a wonderful home a few weeks ago. As we prepared to drive them across town, Elise insisted that Pip not only kissed her but was also crying. When I said "Well girls, I think we found a great home for the chickens", Abby brought me to tears by responding with "those chickens will never have a better home than what they had with us". We decided that, with baby on the way, it would be nice to simplify the homestead - I'm sure it was the right thing to do and we found an organic, vegetarian home for the ladies - but I'm already looking forward to the next flock at some point down the road. 

Speaking of down the road... Baby L has 5 weeks left to cook. And I'm enjoying each and every day. I feel great, our weekly check-ups are looking awesome, we met with our doulas and have a wonderful birth plan in place, the babe's room is done, and the big sisters are excited! We still have no names picked out nor are we using the girls' suggestions. And the overall consensus thus far is that this baby has a penis. While I'm unsure of that detail, what I do know is that growing a baby rocks: hiccups, kicks, big sister belly kisses, nighttime bathroom breaks and all. 

Monday, April 7, 2014

The days keep MARCHing by!

Well, apparently March happened. While it's not a month well-documented in words, pictures will have to suffice for a recap:

Abby, aka Robin Hood, learned how to shoot a bow and arrow.


Trees were climbed to new heights.


Tank tops and bare toes returned. 


Charlie continues to have two modes: asleep or absurd (don't get me wrong - we love them both).


We sported our St. Patty's greens and our KU blues. Sadly the KU blues didn't have the kind of run that they had in 2008 - I was pregnant with the girls when we won the championship that year.


Speaking of 2008... on the left is what should have been my 32nd week of pregnancy in July 2008; on the right is my 32nd week of pregnancy this time. March brought us some stress as Baby Lawrence's heart had some struggles. After more visits with prenatal specialists than we had with A and E, a little maturity and extra love seem to be doing the trick - Baby's heart has been behaving and holding steady for the past couple of weeks. And, while my tiny 2008 preemies could easily conquer the world, I happily rub my belly and smile each and everyday that this one stays inside. 


Monday, February 24, 2014

Dynamic Duos

A & E had their second piano recital on Saturday and this one was twice as special as the last: it was a duet recital and, while the other students' partner was their private instructor, the girls had the special honor of inviting John to be their partner. It comes in handy having a Daddy who plays piano! 

Abby, Elise, and John - it has been such a treat watching the three of you work together. There were moments of frustration followed by moments of celebration! I have enjoyed taking a backseat while you tackle this project without me. And, on Saturday, your hard work more than paid off! It was a show of poise and dedication as well as teamwork and love. Definitely love.

Homemade Dog Treats

It is difficult for me to go a day without baking something, especially this time of year when we're inside quite often and keeping the thermostat turned down is a lovely excuse for turning on the oven. And I thought it should be made public that I bake for our animals (except the cat, Lucy, who is a butterball and needs no extra calories). Dog treats are a great baking activity for kids - it doesn't matter if the ingredients are out of whack, everything is edible (minus raw eggs), and they can be rolled, cut, carved into any shape. Go spoil your mutt - these treats are so good that Charlie is yet to have actually chewed one. Wait. Charlie doesn't chew any of her food. But I still believe that she finds these to be top-notch.

Homemade Dog Treats
adapted from A Kitchen Muse
  • 2 1/2 C whole wheat flour (I can't remember, but I think we did 1 1/2 C organic whole wheat pastry flour and 1 C organic oats)
  • 2 backyard eggs
  • 1 C organic canned sweet potato
  • 2 T organic peanut butter
  • 1/2 tsp salt (can omit if your PB already has salt in it)
  • 3/4 tsp ground cinnamon
    • Preheat oven to 350 degrees
    • Mix wet ingredients; add dry
    • Roll out (using flour if sticky), cut into fun shapes, and bake for approximately 40 minutes (more or less depending on size)
    • Spoil your dog... and everyone else's! This made a big batch - we shared them with at least 3 other puppy families and they lasted about 3 weeks. We also baked half of the dough and refrigerated the rest for a few days before baking the other half. 

Friday, February 21, 2014

And then there were 2...

In April 2013, we entered the world of backyard chickens... from raising the fluffy chicks in the house to building a coop to collecting eggs. Over that time, I've been the main chicken caregiver. The girls have been wonderful playmates for the flock and good egg retrievers and John is my reliable coop-closer at night. I've religiously cared for the ladies, building their humble abode, keeping them fed (well fed - I've learned that hens love warm oats, a nice bowl of yogurt, or a good helping of quinoa), watered, and clean, freeing them each morning to roam about the yard as chickens love to do. I've spent more time in the backyard, rain or snow or shine, tending to the flock. It hasn't bothered me one bit and, actually, I've quite enjoyed it (except during my first trimester, during which time the sight/smell/thought of the chickens made me wholeheartedly question my sanity in getting them - thank goodness that passed). I've only bought 6 eggs since July, and that's only because I dropped a carton of our girls' eggs. I had to tend to a dead chicken in the Fall when the neighbor's dog feasted upon Plum; I had to rescue a chicken from being pinned to the ground when a hawk attacked Lavender. No problem!

Last week, after dinner out, we got home around 8:30. John headed downstairs to let the dog out which was when he discovered Lavender on the patio. In the dark. Long past her roost-time. Strange? Yes. Worrisome? Not yet. I scooped her up, grabbed the flashlight, and headed to the coop. Hmmmm.... the fence was all closed up around their corner, so why was Lavender out and about? Strange? Yes. Worrisome? Not yet. I opened the fence, chicken still under my arm, and leaned in to stick her in the coop. I gave the doorway a quick shine of the flashlight and was met with two very large beady eyes. Strange? Yes. Worrisome? HELL YES! I screamed. Loud. Girly. Twice. And in that moment, for the first time, I thought "what have I done?".

We learned that night about opossums. Very large, ugly, chicken-eating opossums. Both Lavender and Pip had dug their way underneath the fence and escaped; sadly Peep was not so lucky. After a lot of pacing (with Lavender still under my arm, mind you), us non-farm-folk did the best thing we knew how to do: call someone who is. Within a 30 minutes, and sparing you a lot of details, one of John's co-workers came to our rescue and left with both the opossum and the dead chicken. And I'll tell you what - if you're a city-dweller who wants chickens, make sure in your network of contacts you have "that" person to call. Because I don't know a lot of others who would drop everything to wrastle a giant rodent.

Cabin Fever

Cabin Fever. Those are two words that I rarely use - I love being home and, much like my children, can easily occupy hours upon hours within the walls of our house. There is always something that can be crafted or baked, built or drawn, listened to or read. And still, in my second year away from the school system, I still eagerly await the announcement that it's going to be a snow day. I can't explain it but, if you're friends with me and work in the schools, you probably got a text, as usual, sharing my excitement over the cancellation. 

The snow days two weeks ago were different because they hit us at the very moment that we could either be devoured by or triumphantly overcome Cabin Fever. Within a week's time, Abby got sick, Elise got sick, I got sick, Abby got better, Elise seemed to be better, I got better, Elise got an ear infection, and we got snowed in. Cabin Fever clearly sunk it's claws into us.

The girls and I pick up a respiratory cold about once a year. In fact, I had Elise at the doctor on February 3rd this year and the last time I had been there with a sick child was on January 21st, 2013... one year ago. I don't dislike doctors; I believe in the power of healthy bodies to heal. I am not anti-medication; I believe in the power of healthy bodies to heal. It is hard holding steadfast to that kind of belief when I live in a world where people inundate their bodies with medication... pain relievers and cough syrups, antibiotics and antihistamines. Do the research: illnesses and diseases are smart - they learn to navigate drug-infested systems and grow bigger, stronger, and more resilient. And I can't help but wonder what it does to a healthy system to be attacked by these power-house germs? Stepping down from my soap box now. Just food for thought next time you reach for the medicine cabinet instead of a cup of tea.

We are all well... the snow has melted... and we kicked Cabin Fever's ugly face to the wayside. Enjoy some pics from our time together, both in and out of the house!

Making salt-dough Valentine magnets...

KU Women's basketball game...

From snow to shorts...