Two Mothers

 Below is a piece written by a guest about motherhood and the differences it can take in women embodied or not with love for her child. As a warning (and another below marked by the red asterisk) this is not a light-hearted commentary. Please feel free to comment, discuss, and share your thoughts. *The second part of this story concerns a young girl who was sexually assaulted, abused and then murdered.

Two Mothers

    A woman, who just happened to be an actor and singer on a television show called Glee, swims with her 4 year old son in Lake Piru, about an hour north of Santa Clarita, California. It’s a beautiful Wednesday afternoon. The water is warm. The lake virtually empty. Her name is Naya and Naya decides to take a break from her busy world to spend some time with her son. She rents a boat for the day and takes her son swimming in the warm California water. Then something goes very wrong. Naya swims to her small son, hurriedly boosts him onto the deck of the boat, then slips under the water and does not return. Several hours later, her son is found asleep on the boat; hours after that Naya’s body is recovered. The coroner finds no injuries or evidence of a crime and reports her death as an accidental drowning. We can only speculate as to what happened that day. Severe muscle cramps can render swimmers helpless, cold water spots can cause undercurrents and a phenomenon similar to rip-tides. The residents of the area know about these things and have reportedly complained for years about the lack of signage or life-guard patrols. Did Naya get caught by something like this? Did her unanchored boat simply drift too far away, and in her effort to catch it, had she exhausted herself? One of the few things we do know is that her four your old son is quoted to have said that his mom “boosted” him onto the deck of the boat, then went under the water. His lack of alarm or awareness of her distress makes sense. We know that drowning people are often unable to vocalize as they struggle to stay afloat. Lifeguards are trained to look for the “body language” of a drowning person, not merely to wait for cries of help. Her son did not know about her distress or the danger they were in, nothing she did signaled alarm, at least as far as a four-year-old might discern. All of this points to some kind of rapidly changing circumstance. Naya knew she was in trouble and that they both needed to get out of the water. Could she have saved herself and then retrieved her son? Perhaps she lacked the energy to climb onto the boat and that an attempt to do so would only waste her dwindling strength. Had she been fighting an undertow? I can only imagine what it must have been like to move between moments like that. To be swimming, smiling, splashing with your son. Then to pause while you wonder if something troublesome has you in its grips, then the realization that mortal danger is upon you, and then the struggle for life. She becomes exhausted, short of breath, unable to cry out or even speak. Her body is no longer working properly; the lack of oxygenated blood makes it uncooperative. 

    In all of this, one thought occupies her mind. Her child. He isn’t big enough to reach the deck of the boat by himself. If she dies while he’s in the water, he will be alone. Even if equipped with a flotation device, his low profile will make him easy to miss by other boaters. She dreads that he might be left alone, that he might eventually die in the water without her. So with all her remaining strength, she grabs her child, propels him to the edge of the boat and with one final violent effort, she kicks her feet and pushes her child onto the deck. She is spent. So completely exhausted that she no longer feels the tingle of oxygen deprived muscles. Even the water now entering her lungs goes unprotested. But one bit of satisfaction fills her dimming consciousness. In those final moments between life and death, she doesn’t think about her talent, her career, nor the admiration of a million fans, not even her own life. Her child is safe. 

    He is alive because she made a choice. Not a choice made after careful consideration, listing the pros and cons. She made a choice in the midst of horrifying circumstance and every temptation to panic. It is at these moments that our most basic and primal instincts are revealed, the instinct that says, “above all else, preserve thyself.” It is this primal fear that makes otherwise stalwart men run from calamity. It is this fear that makes us cowards. But the only thought in Naya’s mind was the life of her son. Despite all her distress, she fixated on one single goal, to save him. That is now his legacy and forever a part of his story, a frozen moment. His mother traded her life for his. Very few of us will ever be tested this way and fewer still will choose someone else’s life. But Naya was a good mom, the mom we hope we all would be.

. . .

    On July 9^th 2016, Sara Packer ended years of physical and mental abuse inflicted upon her daughter, Grace. 

    Sara and her boyfriend, a man by the name of Jake Sullivan, teamed up to drug, torture, and rape 14 year old Grace in order to fulfill Sullivan’s, “sex-slave,” fantasy. During one session of abuse, Sara told her daughter, “this is your life now,” and when Sullivan had finished his session, Grace would be left alone in a hot dark attic, on an otherwise beautiful summer day, to ponder that new life. These sessions, these violent horrors, occurred off and on for about 12 hours that day, finally ending with Grace’s death by strangulation at the hands of Sullivan. When the deed was done, Grace was dismembered and her body parts were placed in boxes of kitty litter. Sara then reported her daughter, “missing.” After storing the body parts in the attic for a while, the couple decided to deposit her remains in a forest seventy-five miles from their home. Grace was later discovered by hunters. Sara and Sullivan kept quiet but as media attention intensified and interviews with police persisted, they both decided to end their lives together. Their dual suicide failed and while in the hospital, Sullivan confessed. During the subsequent police interviews and trial, more information emerged. We find out for example that Sara felt “betrayed” by Sullivan for confessing. 

    Heartbreaking and grisly details are plentiful in this story, but there is one detail that stands out among all the others…at least for me. After a session of rape and beatings, when Grace was alone once more in that attic, she broke free of her bonds and very nearly escaped. Sullivan and Sara returned just in time to stop her, and a struggle ensued. Sullivan wrapped his arm around Grace’s neck and began to choke the life out of her. Unable to speak, unable to breath, Grace looked at her mother. In a silent courtroom Sara told us what happened next. She took her daughter’s hand, looked into her eyes and whispered, “Just go honey.” It was then that Grace looked away, closed her eyes, and gave up her struggle.

    When I first read about this story, I became numb as I thought about those last moments for Grace. Grace had endured a lifetime of abuse. She had endured multiple sessions of rape and torture. But there is something about the human spirit that seeks life even in the midst of dire circumstance. Our minds, against all reason, believe that whatever is happening, we may yet escape, we may yet live. We believe irrationally that there is some line that our abuser might not cross. We hope at some point this mother, hardly worthy of the title, just might come to her senses and stop the abuse. That was the look Grace must have projected, one final plea as if to simultaneously assert and ask the question, “This is the line, the line has been found… hasn’t it?” And her mother’s answer came in a whisper, “Just go, honey.” A term of endearment mingled with murder. It was surely then that Grace knew she was completely alone in a vast and empty ocean. Abandoned by the only person in the world that could have saved her and should have loved her, even when all others might fail. The last person in the world charged with her protection is now giving her permission, as it were, to simply die. That is Grace’s frozen moment. She died believing that no one loved her, that no one wanted her; that her life meant nothing to the one person for whom it should have meant the most. But Sara was a bad mom, the kind of mom we wish did not exist, but they do.

. . .

        I sometimes imagine that I am an alien studying the Earth and its human inhabitants from a great distance. Just when I think I understand a mother’s love for her child, I am shaken, as if startled from sleep by some horrifying aberration. How can both of these stories be true? How is it that humans can occupy such divergent spaces at the same time. And of all human philosophies, which one can possibly bridge so great a divide between the evil and the sublime?

                                                    Written by J

She's Already Here?

Today J is one week old! Yesterday was also her due date. And let me tell you, I would have never in a million years imagined that I would have an "on-time" delivery, much less an early one! My maternal grandmother carried six children to forty-two weeks, my mom carried four children to forty-two weeks and so did her sister. My first probably would have loved to stay in until forty-two weeks but my doctor at the time only let me go to forty-one.

This second pregnancy went by much quicker than my first and was overall a pleasant experience. I had the usual tiredness throughout and some mild morning sickness but other than that it flew by until around thirty five weeks. At that point, after consistently measuring on the small side, my OB sent me in for an ultrasound to check on the baby's growth. While it was fun to see the baby so much bigger than fifteen weeks before, I couldn't help but be anxious. I finally got the call back.

"Hi, your doctor said the baby is growing normally and everything looks fine. The amniotic fluid was just a little low, so make sure you're staying hydrated!" 

Okay great, I thought, that's a relief. I was already constantly drinking water but at that point I became more intentional about ounces, electrolytes and I cut out caffeine and anything else that would contribute to dehydration. 

Fast forward several weeks. Husband got home from the ship, we put packing and cleaning into high gear to move out, and we also surprisingly (and very quickly) found and bought a house to move into! We made it through all that and got up to our new house on the 20th of June! We had my family to help us move our stuff in and things were going as smooth as moving can be. Unpacking is a long process but we managed to get the important stuff done, we even painted a wall! It was becoming our home and we loved it. 

I was one day short of being 39 weeks when I went to meet my new doctor for the first time and talk about the birth plan and such. The meeting went well and she was completely open to letting me go to forty-two weeks, and understood my history of women carrying late in my family. I was feeling confident and then she had me lay down to listen to the heartbeat and measure my belly. The heartbeat was strong and loud, but yet again I was measuring small. Dr. H. frowned and said that she wanted me to get an ultrasound that same day. Thankfully there was a slot available in the next five minutes so they called me down and I got another peak at my baby. 

I don't know if ultrasound techs are allowed to say anything but this woman was clearly experienced and let me know that the baby was a little on the small side for this age and that the amniotic fluid was pretty low as well. I didn't know the implications of that but next thing I know, the doctor has called me back into the room and is telling me some alarming news.

"I'm sorry kiddo, I know you wanted to wait longer but I'm going to have you come back in tomorrow for an ultrasound. At this gestation, the fact that the fluid is so low is really not a good sign and tomorrow if the amniotic fluid is still so low we will have to schedule induction."

"Oh okay," I said, "would that be within the next week then?"

"Well no, I'd send you to the hospital that same day."

"OH. Wow, well I'd better pack my hospital bag then." She agreed and explained that this was called oligohydramnios and that meant there was probably a decrease of function in the placenta and of course that was not good for the baby. I left and reported everything to my husband, who was also just as prepared to NOT meet his baby for another three weeks. 

"Well, maybe tomorrow it'll be back up, she said to just chug water all day," he said "we'll just make sure you're extra hydrated." I agreed but had a feeling it would not be. How much more water could I drink than what I was already drinking?! I told my husband that I was pretty sure that it would be the same and that we were probably going to be having a baby in the next two days. We came home from that appointment and worked and worked to get the house back together and semi-tidy. While my husband unpacked the bassinet and found newborn diapers, I packed our hospital bags and made sure I had everything I needed for what I assumed would be a 48 hour endeavor. The next morning's appointment confirmed what I suspected and my doctor scheduled my induction for the following morning, July 1st, at five o'clock in the morning. 

We quickly had to arrange for our two year old to stay with my parents. We called my in-laws and let them know too. It was very surreal for me, and I knew I wasn't really processing the whole thing very well, I just wanted my baby to be safe. I never felt very anxious and the verse "Peace that surpasses all understanding" ran through my mind multiple times that day. 

We dropped off our kid and came home that evening. We packed our bags and tried to get to sleep at a decent time since we had such an early morning, and LONG day, ahead of us. 

Around 2:30 AM on the 1st I woke up to some mild, yet very noticeable, contractions. I was surprised and expected them to go away since, in my mind again, there was NO WAY that I would go into labor by myself. To my surprise every thirty minutes I was still having them and they persisted when it was time to go to the hospital. We got checked in, we got into the room and tried to settle in. Contractions were mild, but there and still a little sporadic. The nurses were very encouraging that I was having contractions. 

What proceeded next has really burned me on having babies in the hospital. First of all, while the sweet nurses do their best to NOT make you feel like just another pregnant woman having a baby, there are things that simply just are automatic there. Like automatically getting an IV picc-line because you MIGHT need fluids, or you MIGHT need a blood transfusion, or in my case I was probably going to need pitocin to really get my labor started. You also have to get your blood drawn to get typed in case of a blood transfusion. I was poked and prodded a lot within the first 40 minutes of my being in my room. I'm becoming increasingly agitated about all of it. Another thing was that since this is during the whole corona virus situation, they are testing the patients being admitted. I had to get tested but not my husband (makes sense, right?) There was also no warning about which method of testing they would be administering to an in-labor pregnant woman. Unlucky for me it was the nasal swab kind. The nurse who administered it briefly said "it goes pretty far up there, it might make you tear up" and I thought okay, that's not horrible. I'm pretty sure I'd had the flu swab and it does tickle and make my eyes water. 

THIS was NOTHING compared to that. When they say it goes up pretty far they mean SIX INCHES into your nasal cavity and what feels like your brain. I don't consider myself a wimp but it hurt so bad and it was so intrusive and stupid that I wept for a solid thirty minutes after it had been done. I was so angry and it is such an arbitrary system. I asked how long until the test results and my nurse told me that the results took at least 24 hours. 24 hours?! I will have had my baby and transmitted COVID to her by then if I actually had it, much less my husband not needing to be tested. I had several choice words run through my mind. And the nurses were fairly apathetic about the whole thing too. So, not a great start to that day. 

Thankfully after that, the nurses just left me alone to be in labor. My contractions were picking up and I was sure that everything was progressing as it should. I altered between walking around and sitting on the yoga ball. Chris coached me to breath correctly and was perfectly affectionate and sweet. By lunch, I had been given two doses of cytotec to help my cervix get ready, but things had stalled a bit. My doctor came in to check on me and we decided to break my water. After an hour things really picked up and by five PM I was in active labor and it HURT. I asked to be checked and unfortunately I had remained dilated at a four, but I was 80% effaced. Knowing that this same thing had happened with A, and that her labor had lasted for several more hours after being stalled at a four I decided to get an epidural. I still felt the contractions on one side, which was actually nice in a way because I could really feel my body working to get the baby down and I was still breathing through them. At that point I had the shakes and it was difficult to get my body to relax. Only two and a half hours later I was feeling a LOT of pressure and I called my nurse in to check on me. Things had sped up, and she told me that she could feel the baby's head being brought down with each contraction and in probably another half hour I would be fully effaced and dilated. I was shocked. Again, I had been expecting a long labor like A's, and perhaps even another three hours of pushing like with her, so the fact that things had progressed so quickly was very alarming to me. At 8:17, the doctor on call came in (she was amazing) and after a few contractions and six pushes later J was born at 8:29. She was so small! And all that hair! They put her on my chest right away and she cried immediately and was so healthy and perfect. We only stayed that one night in the hospital and got to go home the very next evening after all sorts of tests to make sure we were both spick and span. 

All of a sudden there were four of us. In the course of a day our hearts expanded, and I'm still processing that I have a newborn again. 

I am up every three hours during the night, and trying to take naps during the day. Since my parents are so close I've seen my mom almost every day and she has been the life-saver that I knew she would be. It's very different bringing a baby home to a house that has a two year old. A is doing really well considering she now has to share attention, and absolutely dotes on her baby sister. I make time to read her books and cuddle her and be silly with her, but there are several hours in a day where I am trapped on the couch for an hour nursing and feeding and burping the new baby. She helps to give her a bottle and burp her and loves it. She gets quite worried when she doesn't know where "baby goon 'ister" is, and often does drive by kisses when J is napping. We are all adjusting, and we have a lot to adjust to! A new state, town, house and now a new baby! God is good and I have never seen His hand move in my life the way it has the past several weeks. I'm constantly in awe of the continuous provision and blessings. Thanks for reading!

Ever Unseen Act of Love

“God sees every unseen act of love, and He is pleased.”

I read that on a random comment thread from Facebook. A friend of mine had shared an article about motherhood, and all the challenges it brings. The article was centered around the theme that God created you, given your child to YOU (not anyone else) and would equip you with the resources to faithfully raise them for Him. A woman I do not know commented, saying something like “Oh, I know, but sometimes I just don’t feel like anyone appreciates all the work I put in!” And my friend replied to her “God sees every unseen act of love, and He is pleased.”

How much that one sentence (not even directed at me) has been an encouragement and, at many points, my anthem to being a mother. Especially during those months when it’s just me and my child, when my husband goes to work. 

God sees me. He sees me take a deep breath and control my tone, my frustration and tears (and sometimes not as much). He sees me bend down for the hundredth time to clean up whatever mess has been made (food, pee, poop, snot, toys… you name it!) He sees me hold my crying babe who just bonked her head really good. He sees me lovingly prepare the thousandth meal for us to enjoy together, and the fun cookies or the playdough. 

And God sees you, mama. He sees you wake up in the morning after hearing your little one start to cry or talk. He sees you take a few moments to wake up, and get motivated for another day chasing them down and making sure they aren’t too cold, or too hot, or hungry or thirsty. He sees you read that one book for the tenth time in a row because (out of the fourteen other books) they only want to read “Goodnight, Princess” that day.

He sees the good moments when you’re both laughing and playing a game, or dancing, or learning. He sees the hard moments when they don’t stop when you say stop and that could have meant running out into the street. He sees the corrections, the “say please” and the “say thank you!”. He sees YOU. And YOU are doing everything He wants you to do. 

This world is upside down right now. We are cooped up all day (especially if the weather is horrible). There's the overhanging anxiety of not wanting to get sick, or be around anyone who even MIGHT be sick. There are all the things that we as adults are dealing with right now- the uncertainty of what is to come. How will the world look when we are finally able to emerge from our houses? What will the new rules be? Everyone is going through this weird, traumatic thing together yet separately and yet our job is to make sure our children don’t feel the worry. We can’t do anything about it, so we carry on. We continue to love and mold our children, and a lot of the effort is going to go unseen, unappreciated and unacknowledged. 

But God sees every unseen act of love, and He is pleased. 

The Two Year Old

April is here and for me that means that there is a birthday coming up! Specifically my baby girl will be turning two! TWO. I would hardly believe it except for all the definite two year old behaviors that have been making an appearance since January. It’s an interesting time to want to celebrate something like a birthday, when this world and country are in such disarray. Still, as the day has been coming closer I’ve been observing more and more what a wonderful and challenging blessing my almost two year old is. 

Yesterday afternoon for our snack, we sat on the kitchen floor and she watched avidly as I showed her how to help me peel an orange. We smelled the rind as we peeled off each piece and she helped throw the pieces away and we ate the orange on the floor. Each bite came with a messy result but the satisfied “yum” that came with each bite was too cute, and I knew that I could easily clean up the mess in a few minutes. The thing about two year olds is that they are such hungry learners! She watches everything I do! It can be kind of alarming- because I’m aware of how poor a role model I can be. The leaps and bounds of speech and communication blows my mind, even from just a few months ago. She strings together little two or three word sentences, narrates all her activities and makes sure I’m included when she does something “coo’!” 

We have rough days too. The waking up grumpy days. The “she didn’t get what she wanted days” and the days where I KNOW she can hear me but is clearly ignoring me. (How do they learn how to do that so soon!?) We have the days of many time outs. But even on those days, we take a bath and she puts on her jammies, we sit in the rocking chair and she lays in my arms for as long as I want and we sing songs, and read some bedtime stories and say our goodnight prayers to Jesus. Those times I get all the kisses and hugs, and the “luh yoo”s erase the day’s frustrations.

I can tell that she is going to be a very sweet and nurturing big sister, and that thought also makes these moments so precious! There are still three and a half months (ish) to go for baby #2 to appear, but these first few months have already flown by! It won’t be just the three of us for much longer, and there are less and less days when it’s just me and my first girl! 

Her favorite things are the Moana soundtrack (Moana muss-ee? Peesh?), apples (app-uh), bouncing off of anything she can (I bunce, I bunce!), dancing (‘anceeng), and generally wanting to copy whatever mommy is doing! Brushing teeth, brushing on makeup, cooking, and thankfully that includes cleaning! She’s a good little helper too (she loves positive affirmation, don’t we all?)

I don’t know how she can get any cuter or how I can love her more, but she proves me wrong every day and while I love watching her grow and learn, the phrase is TOO true: “The days are long, momma, but the years are short.”

Thank you, NO qualifiers

Thank you, no qualifiers.

Ladies, when you give someone a compliment (probably a fellow woman) do you mean it? Are you genuine? When you notice something beautiful or amazing or talented about another person and you decide to tell them about it, it’s probably true. So why is it, when another woman (usually) gives you a compliment about your hair, talent smile or makeup, we have this weird innate way of disregarding it. We say “Oh thanks, but….” 

But… what? You don’t agree? You don’t think they’re genuine? When you look in the mirror you don’t see the things they see?

Why?

This is my New Years Resolution. Say “Thank you”. That’s it. No qualifiers. Because we as women need to learn how to absorb a compliment. Take it in and believe that your friend freely and genuinely believes that your hair looks AMAZING. That those jeans look GOOD. That your eyeliner is ON. POINT. 

I’m in this habit too, don’t get me wrong. I realized though that when I say “ thank you, but” I’m turning my friend into a liar. I’m discrediting them in a way that my friend doesn’t deserve.

After all, if we can’t accept a simple compliment from our closest friends, what does that say about our ability to believe and absorb what our Lord says about us? We are daughters of the King, beautiful, loved, forgiven, and showered with grace. 

Ladies, say thank you. No qualifiers. No buts. Let the love of your Father and friends wash over you and catch a glimpse of how you are viewed. Beautiful, talented, sweet, kind, loved. 

Believe it, don’t discredit them, don’t discredit yourself, and most of all, choose to believe and understand how much you are loved by your Father in heaven. 

Part Time Husband

Consider this "Marrying A Man Who Leaves" part 2. 

Several months ago, we transitioned our daughter off of pacifiers, and she did great and was going to sleep without a peep. Fast forward to early in October, I went away for five days on a girl's trip with two of my closest friends and Husband obviously had the girl all to himself. Well, guess who started giving her the pacifier again?! I truly wasn't upset about it, but maybe a little frustrated I would have to get her off of it again. Three days after I got home, he left for the ship. As far as transitions go, this one was fine. He got to fly out of our local airport instead of the major airport (two hours away) and we got to spend the morning together while he packed his bag. Off he went and my girl and I came back home to business as usual. I understand that it's a very perplexing lifestyle. Afterall, I essentially operate as a single parent for half the year (not to mention just not having my favorite person around anymore. The house certainly gets VERY quiet.)

 I was reminded of this when, a couple weeks later, I emailed Husband lamenting that anytime our kid doesn't get the pacifier she had some epic meltdowns. He emailed back saying "Oh no, what are we going to do??" I responded by saying "What are WE going to do? You mean what am I going to do?" We had a good laugh, but very often that is the case when he is away. (I ended up throwing away all the pacifiers and cutting her off cold turkey. I was over it! She did great, and is back to sleeping without a peep throught the night, and doing great with her nap.) 

I reflect on that quippy exchange. "Do you mean what am I going to do?". The Lord is so gracious, and has let me know that it's okay to have that mindset while my husband is away. I never thought that I'd be the woman married to a man that leaves, but as I've said, here we are! I have an indepence within me, and I just thank God that my husband appreciates and encourages the attributes that come with being the one to run the household, and raise the kids when he is gone. Now it is also because of God that so far, transitioning back to Husband leading the household has been one that I gladly give over. I honestly love my role as a wife and mother. I realize that that is not a popular mindset in today's culture, and I would argue that because of that, there are a lot more unhappy men and women, single or married. God designed marriage to work in the way he did because He designed men and women to compliment each other, and have different but equal roles in the workplace and home. 

Because of this job and lifestyle, I do get to stay home with my sweet girl, and I absolutely love it. I love keeping a nice house, cooking meals, and having friends over. When he gets back, we enjoy our hobbies together, we watch our favorite shows and we get to do some amazing traveling as a family. 60 days on, 60 days off. I realize that can sound like a long time but we make it work- we even thrive. God is so good to us, and on the days when the distance feels extra long, I've learned to lean into His comfort, and Joy. I have an awesome circle of friends, a great church, and a husband that knows how to encourage and love me, even when it's through a quick email. 

Have Rest For Your Soul

I just came across this picture that Chris took of us on the plane to Ft. Lauderdale. How perfectly it captures a sweet moment between my child and I. However just five minutes before Adeline was crying and squirming- trying to fall asleep on a plane is hard! I was sweaty from wrangling her in the hot airplane and self-conscious of how loud my baby was being. I had been awake since 3 AM and neither Chris or I had been able to get coffee or a snack since then. Yet, after patience and calm, and reassuring pats on her back, she calmed down and fell asleep and my sweet husband and I got to catch our breath, get organized and get some coffee into our systems. Thus we settled into our day-long journey to the East Coast.

How often these moments reflect my relationship with God! How often am I tired and cranky, squirming and crying because I don’t understand this new situation, or am not okay with being out of my comfort zone? I remember a sermon from church a couple years ago when we still lived in Boise, the pastor was making a parallel about resting in the Lord and he compared us to a child who is overtired. Sometimes when a baby gets overtired, the poor thing fights sleep even HARDER, crying for an hour or more before falling asleep. As parents we think “if you’re so tired, why don’t you just fall asleep?!”

I have found myself getting overtired, and rather than just resting and falling asleep, I resist God more emphatically. Watching two toddlers every day leading up to long days of travel, improvising new routines with the baby, and then coming home without my husband was a lot for me. Throw in baby jet lag, my sister moving in and a lot of things being up in the air with my husband’s job! 

As mothers we are constantly pouring into those around us- our children, our friends, and our family. Often times, especially when my husband is away for work, there is no one else to pour into me except God. But that begs the question, isn’t He the one I’m supposed to look to in order to be ‘filled up’ anyway? Why don’t I remember this more often? 

Matt 11:28-30 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

I know that my “troubles” don’t hold a candle to what many other people work through and struggle with, but the comfort from the Lord is the same. Especially as mothers where we give so much of ourselves every day- just as the Lord wants us to do. I've had such a loving reminder to unburden myself at the feet of Jesus. 

Our family is in a time of transition, and rather than wiggle and squirm and fight, I’m soothed and encouraged by the Lord to just rest in him. He knows the plan, the journey, and the outcome. Why not be along for the ride?

Yes, Time Flies

In just under a week my baby will be turning one year old. As the date is coming closer and closer, I’m finding myself in a state of reflection. Every night before I turn out the light to sleep, I stare at pictures of her from one, two, three months old… slowly scrolling until I’m looking at her how she is today. How tiny she looks compared to the little person who now walks all over the house! I used to just sit with her in my arms for hours; there was nothing else she needed. Perfectly content, I would sing her songs, nurse her, burp her and she would fall right back asleep. Her world was my chest and my arms. The distance she could see was from my bosom to my face; she was content.

Now she is only occasionally in a cuddling mood, letting me hold her long enough to feed her milk. She then slides off to go pull all her toys from the bin and to open the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen.  She’s babbling, eating all the food, drinking three times the amount of formula she used to, she’s crawling and climbing up stairs and walking further each new day. She grows to look more like her dad every day, and I’m putting my hope in the fact that maybe our next one will be my mini-me! Her due date was April 6, but she didn’t make an appearance until April 14th. This time last year I was waddling around attempting to not flare up the terrible sciatic nerve pain brought on by my huge belly. A year ago my husband and I were dreaming about who we would meet: a boy or a girl? Benjamin (as was our boy name) or Adeline?

Despite my attempts, I know that I did not capture every possible moment of learning, or cuteness overload- such as the funny little smile she gave me after the first time I brushed her teeth. The minty flavor was weird, but her reaction to it was unbelievably sweet. While it’s such an amazing thing to watch her little brain grow and develop, I can’t help but be a little melancholy that the time has gone, and continues to go by so fast. My little eight pound five ounce baby is becoming so quickly a curious, exploring toddler.

I was warned about so much pertaining to motherhood: you’ll not sleep for months, you’ll watch them sleep, time goes by so fast, you’ll get used to how messy they get, there’s so much poop/pee/spit up...etc. Yes, all those things are true, but I never predicted how much I would miss and love the whole process. There were days that I would cry from lack of sleep, or frustration, or just simply feeling like I had no answers; but those were the days and nights she needed me most. Although she is still very small, and no doubt still needs me in every way, she is changing and evolving so quickly.
My mom joked that, just like she’s watched me, I’ll watch Adeline grow up and get married and have her own baby in the next 20 years. I told her that I could hardly imagine that, but truthfully it’s all to easy to imagine. If this first year has already come and gone… Lord willing the next 19 will go by a little slower, if only to be able to watch my baby grow up.

Post Partum...Depression.

Almost a year ago (11 months to be exact) I gave birth to my beautiful daughter. After one night and a day and a half we brought our sweet baby home to our little apartment for the first time. It was very refreshing to be home, and I felt rejuvenated and was straight up giddy when I took my first shower after coming home. My belly was still sticking out a little bit and I was sore but I felt really good. My sweet Mother in law set up a meal train for us and I was looking forward to having meals brought to us, and hoped that they wouldn’t stay too long to ogle at our new baby.
Now it’s funny. At the time I didn’t’ feel very overwhelmed- we usually had just one visitor every other day, and there were only a couple people who were not close family or best friends who stayed a little too long, but I didn’t feel too bothered by it at the time. Post partum is weird. Post partum depression is even weirder. True to what people say, you don’t really know you had it until you’re out of it, and I would say that I had a pretty mild case of it too, but nonetheless, looking back I definitely see where I had some crazy stuff going on in my head. And, as much as some people might be hurt and I’m sorry, I just wish we hadn’t had such a steady stream of visitors. I just didn’t understand how to say no without hurting feelings. What I’ve processed from that time is as follows.
It took me a solid six weeks to figure out what a baby is. Does that sound silly? It’s true. I’ve loved babies and wanted babies all my life, and yet having your first one is alien. It took that solid six weeks to really figure out how she worked, and how to nurse, and how to time the day so that I could take a shower and eat and take walks. I was terrified of leaving the house for more than five minutes at a time, especially without my husband. I also had this weird sense that something would go wrong with the baby if we weren’t in the same room at all times…. And if someone else held her for too long I internally would get very panicky. I was thankful and relieved when my baby started to get fussy because it meant that I had an “excuse” to get her back. One time we had visitors (I honestly don’t remember who, so sorry to who it was) and I happened to be nursing my baby when they arrived, but they were so impatient to hold her and kept telling her to “hurry up” I was almost in tears. To my annoyance this day, I did stop nursing her so this person could hold her, but in my mind that completely messed up the entire rest of the day. (It didn’t help that I had to supplement and that she fought nursing anyway).
I realize now that, of course at anytime I could have said “no” or “wait” or “please leave, I’m tired”… but what happened is that I felt all these different things and I didn’t know how to express myself.
I called my mom so much those first few weeks (she did come visit for several days… but I could have just had her live with me for months), especially when I couldn’t figure out why I didn’t have very much milk for my hungry daughter. After my husband left to go back to work (baby was six weeks old) I called my mom, and she didn’t answer. I called my sister, at this point crying, and she answered and heard me sobbing on the other end. “Wh-what’s wrong? Are you okay?” she asked me very gently. “I’m sad” was all I could get out and when she asked why all I could say was “I don’t know.” My mom got on the phone and talked to me for quite some time, prayed with me and we hung up. I was feeling much, much better, but still sad and frustrated. Again, with all the hormones and mood swings I craved company and hated it at the same time. I needed help but didn’t have the energy for social interaction. I realize now that I wanted a couple specific people, one being my mom of course, to be around all the time but I didn’t really have the wherewithal to communicate that. I was also so much in a daze of nursing and sleeping that I didn’t know that’s what I wanted in the first place.
At about two and half/three months I had a schedule figured out, I was going over to dinner at my in-laws house at least once a week if not more (I always looked forward to Thursdays and Friday morning coffee!!!) and I started to come out of that post-partum daze. I craved going on walks, I accepted the fact that I had to supplement/switch to formula, I started to lose the baby weight and every day got easier and easier. Oh and baby was sleeping for like six hours at night, and I was happy. I was JOYFUL. I had a routine, my baby was amazing and so cute, I had people to see and life was evening out. My sweet husband was being as supportive as he could from afar, and the Lord was answering prayers in that I started feeling just fine.
On another note, I would like to give a shout out to my Aunt Linda, who invited me over (or let me invite myself over) to your house several times to just get some social interaction- Thank you!!!! After the initial period of me getting used to a small human who needed me for everything, getting out of the house and getting invited out (and being thought of) was so instrumental in me feeling like a regular human being again. Aunt Linda, you were encouraging, you made me feel like I was doing everything right, you gave me a place to be and you let me eat your delicious food. I would also like to thank my friends Hannah and Alexa- you ladies were just yourselves and that’s exactly what I needed and wanted. You both had kids so you understood everything and always knew what to say. Thanks for making time when I came to visit you at work all the time, Alexa. Of course my mom and my mom-in-law were (and still are) always there when I needed advice, some girl time or a mom. I know that you both were just always ecstatic for the baby, but I never felt (or feel) overlooked. You both let me do my thing, you never have a criticism, always just love for me and my baby.
If this is extra cheesy and gooey… oh well!
To new moms, or new moms-to-be: Don’t rush it. It’s okay to feel scared or sad or angry. It’s okay to tell people “no”, to be demanding and to not immediately have the “motherly instinct”. If something is going on, and your doctor or lactation consultant or pediatrician is only giving you one answer, go ask somebody else. Read “Becoming Babywise” by Robert Bucknam. It’s an absolute lifesaver. Trust Jesus. The end.

Somewhere in the 3-5 Months mark, feeling myself again!

Somewhere in the 3-6 weeks while husband was still home with us.

Somewhere in the 4-5 month mark, eating fruit and screaming.

Traveling with an Infant

Something we have gotten asked often enough is how do we travel now that we have a baby? Is it harder? And I always say that you still can totally travel however often and wherever you want, it just takes a little extra planning and more stuff than you think you need.
After thinking about it for a couple days, I thought I’d make a list of advice and things you may want to bring with you to make your travels easier.
We just got back from a week of driving around Montana and Northern Idaho. It was so fun to see family and friends, but we probably clocked about 20 hours in the car total- between driving to our destinations and then around towns when we were there. Since Baby was born we have gone camping, flown to Florida and back, flown to Seattle, driven to Seattle, driven to our hometown and now up to MT, so I feel like we have a pretty good handle on what we need. Planes or cars- maybe some of this can help another mama get more prepared for traveling with babies.

Whether you’re camping or driving or flying somewhere with a baby, I’ve found its helpful to have these things:

If formula feeding: besides extra formula and bottles, we like to pack travel size dish soap and bottle brush. When you get to the destination just set up a bottle station right away to establish a little normalcy and organization. We bring a new tin of formula, three bottles, bottle brush and soap with us everywhere. I also keep a water bottle for formula in the diaper bag in case we are somewhere that doesn’t have a ready water source (such as the time we got stuck in the snow for 3 hours on our way back home this last trip).

Baby-jail: bring something where baby can safely be out of the way but still in sight. We bring a pack n’ play (for sleep and play) and a bumbo that also serves as a high chair when we travel. I recommend looking for a bumbo on EBay, surprisingly they were expensive on Amazon.
Diapers and Wipes: more than you think you need. Pack what looks good and then throw in ten more. (We also have a little fold-able foam 1X3 changing pad that we bring with us everywhere, and that has saved countless white sheets and couches from poops)

Clothes: I feel like I basically pack all of Baby’s clothes that she currently fits in- which was barely enough because she spit up and got food on almost every outfit I had brought. I did run out of pajamas for her. (Doing laundry would have helped. Ha.)
Toys: I try to grab a few toys that she is familiar with, and a couple that she hasn’t played with for a while so they are “new” and keep her busy a little longer- especially on a plane. Even though most people have been really understanding so far, it’s still hard to be the parents with the crying baby.

Schedule: Although it is easier said than done, try to keep the babes on their schedule. It will keep some semblance of normalcy and the transition to the new place will go a little easier, as well as the transition when you’re back at home. Keep nap time and bed times the same, it sure helped keep me sane during our travels!
Road trip tips: We have had  a lot of success of planning our departure time around Baby nap. Everything we can do is done when she wakes up in the morning, we do finishing touches and then by the time she is ready for her next nap we take off in the car and get a solid 2-2.5 hours of drive time before she needs to be fed or we need to stop.

Plane tips: during take off and landing ear pops, we have had success when baby either had a bottle or a pacifier in during those times. Landings were not her favorite but we’ve only had one major melt down out of our 10 flights thus far. During the plane ride itself make sure baby is not too hot or too cold; one time she was fighting a nap really hard for about 15 minutes before I thought to take off her jacket and then she relaxed and fell asleep right away. We also keep a couple different kinds of snacks on hand now too and rotate through them to keep her busy and interested.

In conclusion, these are some things we stick to when traveling with our almost 10 month old! But, please don’t think that all of our travels go perfectly or without hitches! We are still learning and getting better at it every time we go out! In fact, try as I might on this trip, Baby would not sleep in her pack n’ play at night she ended up with us every night we were gone (she moves around a lot in her sleep!) We forgot dish soap this latest time, and had to improvise when cleaning our bottles while at the hotel we stayed! Baby did keep to her bedtime really well, her naps were a little wonky, but her eating habits got really out of wack. She still pooped a few times every day so she got enough to eat, but I was still stressed! We had a great time and everyone survived, and there are always curve balls, something forgotten, blow-outs, and general life happenstances. What I want you to take away is this: Just because you have a baby now (or several), still travel, go out to restaurants, camp, backpack, and all the general things you did before baby. You can do it! You and baby will do great.

Your First Baby is the Experiment One

Good morning! I’m just going to take a few bullet points and talk about some “controversial” parenting tactics that are constantly being debated.

Number 1: Pacifiers. Are they a do or don’t? When we had Baby at the hospital they had a strict no pacifiers rule because I guess a baby at some point (and this is TRAGIC) had one in and asphyxiated. So those are not given to you if you birth at a hospital. However as soon as we came home, we stuck a pacifier in the little one’s mouth and she loved it, and we loved less crying honestly. My school of thought was that I didn’t mind pacifiers because it’s easier to take away a pacifier than a thumb (also, she never “found” her thumb anyway as a means of self soothing). My experience with thumbs is limited to the fact that my little sister sucked her thumb, and my parents had a heck of a time getting her to stop, and didn’t really succeed until she was four. Now I face the daunting task of transitioning my little girl out of having one for sleep. I think with our next kid I’m going to try not giving one and see how he or she does.

Number 2: When to Start Giving Solid Foods VS Exclusively Breastfeeding/Formula Until One Year (or longer)
I will say that a traditional pediatrician seems to push solid foods fairly soon. I’ve read all sorts of things regarding when babies are ready for some rice cereal or baby oatmeal- how many teeth they have is a sign that their digestive system is ready for more, when they start watching you eat/opening their mouth when you take a bite o food. I also recently learned that the push to start solid foods between 4-6 months is so that their risk of allergies to food in the future go down. (I’m aware that there are exceptions to every case of course and that genetics also play a role. And I will say if you suspect your child has an allergy go get a proper diagnosis from a doctor). Personally, Baby had her two bottom teeth by four months and was showing all other signs of being interested in food, so we started giving her baby cereal with every feeding and she loved it. At 9 months, she basically eats anything we eat- from scrambled eggs to chicken “soup” (just the chicken/onions/carrots) and of course, I’m still giving her a bottle before I feed her food. Now this is just what I chose to do with my kid, and I had no personal problem with it, but obviously other moms choose to breastfeed exclusively and that is awesome!

Number 3: Co-sleeping VS Independent Sleeping
Before she was born, my husband and I decided that we would not do long term co-sleeping. And I read a really great book that outlined how to get baby to sleep through the night by herself, without having to do some sort of ritual to get her to go to sleep- such as rocking/nursing/driving them to sleep. We are at the point where even if I wanted her to go to sleep with me, she won’t! Again, I’d read different pros and cons about co sleeping. We had her with us while she was still eating at night but by about 4 months she was sleeping in a bassinet that we kept by our bed at night. At nine months we have her in her crib in her room just down the hall from us. She goes to bed at 8 (currently waking up again at midnight because her teeth hurt, so we give her baby Tylenol and she goes back to sleep) and wakes up around 7:30-8:00. Some mamas say that they don’t need their babies to be so independent right away- and they don’t, but it was just our decision to keep our marriage bed to ourselves. It also is a huge stress reliefe that I’m not stuck putting her down for a nap or bedtime for more than 10 minutes, I swaddle, pacifier, kiss and hug and put her down and she just goes to sleep!

Number 4: Swaddling VS Not and Back Sleeping VS Tummy Sleeping

This one is a combo set I guess. I wouldn’t consider these subjects heatedly debated among mothers, but I’d just like to share my experience with these in general. I think every mom hears or reads that babies like being swaddled because it reminds them of being safe and cozy in the womb. They make awesome “auto” swaddlers that make it really easy for new parents to get the hang of tucking the babe into a blanket. Well, the trouble that I’ve run into is that now Baby has a hard time going to sleep when she isn’t swaddled, and sometimes she’ll just stand up and cry for eternity in her crib because she now can hoist herself up. In addition to that babies figure out how to bust out of the swaddle and the risk is then that they’ll end up covering their nose and mouth with the loose blanket and that’s not good. In order to avoid her busting out, loosing her pacifier or standing up, I’ve started leaving one arm out, flip flopping which arm so that she isn’t mainly dominate with one arm. So far the transition has been good, and since she has an arm out, she can put her pacifier back in by herself and roll over onto her tummy- which is now her favorite way to sleep. Speaking of tummy sleeping, “back is best” is the current mindset being proclaimed among the professionals these days. According to my lactation consultant from a few months ago, 15 years ago, tummy was best… and now it’s the opposite but I’ve read that when babies can roll over and that they start doing that to go to sleep, leave them. How exhausting would it be to continually be going in, waking up yourself and them to roll them back over onto their back? Just make sure that when they start doing that to go to sleep, there are no extra blankets or pillows for them to roll onto or get snuggled in too close.

Some questions for my readers:
What do you moms do to get your littles to go to sleep?
What has been your experience with solid foods or no? Any allergies?
What is your opinion about co-sleeping?

Thanks for reading!

A Little Life Update

Hello! I've been thinking that our friends and family might enjoy a little life update from the Adams family!
Living in North Idaho has been exactly what we needed. Husband is home from the ship until March and being together again as a family is amazing. The transition when he got home was one of the smoothest as long as we have been married (a total answer to prayer). I honestly feel like all we have been doing together is laughing and raising our baby. I know that for our family in Boise it is hard to have us away, but have comfort in the face that the Lord has us here on purpose and that we are happy and enjoying the cute college town.
We actually were in Boise very briefly a week or so ago for a family emergency. Everything turned out ok; the grandmas are recovering, and even though we went down under exacting circumstances it was nice to connect with as many family that we could.
We have some projects we are working on while Husband is home! Some of which including unpacking a few final boxes and finding cute bookshelves to put the rest of our book and trinkets away! The other, more fun one, is that we got some new recording equipment and have had tons of fun recording covers of our favorite songs- me usually singing and Husband singing or playing th guitar.
Baby is doing great! She is almost hitting 18 lbs, still on the tall side and her head is finally measuring average on the bell curve as opposed to in the 90%. As of today she now has a total of SIX teeth! Her top four are still coming down but they are all through the gums and making her pretty fussy. She loves every food I put in front of her, except banana... and she will only feed herself. If I try to feed her with a spoon she pushes out her little lips and will dodge and turn her head away until I leave her alone. She's a quick little crawler, and of course finds the cabinets, water bottles, apples and fridge much more fun to play with than her actual toys. She'll occasionally munch on some toy animals but that's the extent. She loves "reading" books, and can turn pages on a board book, and says a variety of sounds. She loves saying "mama" and "da-da" especially when she feels she is in distress! Her eyes are still blue, isn't that crazy?! We are thinking they will stay that way. She is absolutely beautiful and smart, and overall a pretty easy baby to have as our first one! I'm so curious to see if the others down the road will have the same happy disposition.
We want to do some traveling up to Coeur'd Lane for some skiing and to Butte, MT to visit family... and who knows where else? The end of March is a while away and we want to make up for lost time! Thank you to everyone who has been praying for us, they are definitely being answered! My own have been answered as well in the form of several new amazing friendships! There is a Calvary Chapel here. The church is on the smaller end, the preaching is great, and the people who go there were so welcoming right away. We've been able to start quality friendships with people who are strong believers and some who have kids- all of which are huge praises!

Anyway, since a picture is worth a thousand words, here are some snippets of our time together so far! Thanks for reading!

Matching PJs!

Cuties

We got her a cozy snow suite!

Some of you may have seen a few of these fun pictures we took when Baby turned 9 months

She moves her high chair around the kitchen

Applesauce is her current favorite!

Lazy mornings are our routine with Daddy :)

Starting a Diet Around the Holidays

The beginning of November held a realization for me: I did not have to wait one more second to start being healthier. Around the holidays, many people psych themselves up to start being the "better them" for New Year's- we've all made our resolutions but how many people really follow through with them past the first three months of the year? I certainly hadn't before, and I didn't want to keep telling myself "Tomorrow" "Monday" "After the weekend"- I made the decision to have a healthier lifestyle on a Wednesday afternoon.

If you're still with me, the suspense is now over: I began the Keto diet. 

Now, first of all, I hate the word diet because in my mind it is synonymous with the mindset that you do something for a certain amount of time, get the results, and then go back to what you were doing before. This will not be my story. 

Second of all, I did tons of research: 2FitDocs on YouTube, Magic Pill from Netflix, tons of articles and tips. I'm sure you all know what the basis of Keto is, you cut carbs so that your body will stop using those for energy and will instead use the excess fat in your body by releasing ketones into your blood therefore having your body be in an extended state of ketosis. You also want to eat more high protein and high fat meals (yes, bacon is allowed but it's not like I'm eating that with every meal). As the Magic Pill explains, fat somehow got a bad rap, "fat makes you fat", but in reality, good fats in food are good for you! Guess what makes you fat? Sugar! Guess what your body turns carbs into? Sugar! 

After all my research, I'm doing Keto for six months, trying to eat between 25-35 grams of carbs per day, and then I will re-introduce some grains and legumes in moderation back into my diet. After two solid weeks I began to see success in my body. Not only am I losing weight and inches, but I have not had a blood sugar crash since I've been doing it. The high protein, vegetables, and fat consumption leaves you feeling full and more energized throughout the day and in between meals.This has been awesome and this has helped me to stay super motivated to continue this lifestyle!

I don't have cheat days, but I have had to get creative with recipes and this girl has been an awesome source of motivation and meal ideas as she herself has been doing Keto for quite a while. She even has some desserts (I've made Keto brownies and keto ice cream and they've both turned out super yummy!) and cocktails.

Something interesting that I have yet to research more is that a lot of carbs you see on the nutritional label are derived from sugars, for example Egg-Nog you buy at the store has a total 27 G of carbohydrates, but 20 G of that is sugars. I'm wondering if the weight loss and feeling more energized (and my skin is super clear) has more to do with less sugar in my diet than a lack of carbs. I'll be able to take better notes of that when I try grains and legumes again in May when my six months is over. 

In addition to keto, I am working out at least five days a week. I'm intermittently doing high intensity work outs and strengthening yoga, all of which has been amazing. For me there was a three day hump where, after working out for three days in a row I was sore, tired and unmotivated but I soldiered on through days four and five. I found a groove and I've been loving getting stronger! Post-partum left a lot of muscles to be strengthened and I feel so much better in my lower back and my posture has immensely improved! It is hard to be consistent, especially when every day looks a little bit different with my sweet babe, but its worth it to feel confident and strong. In the end a healthier me is a healthier and happier wife and mother. I'm loving this new lifestyle, who says you can't start your New Year's Resolution two months early?! 

Thanks for reading! I'd love to answer any questions or receive tips or fun Keto-friendly recipes! :)

Marrying A Man Who Leaves

“Oh wow, he’s gone for how long?” “That must be hard.” “Since you’re getting married is he going to do something else?” “Since you’re having a baby, is he going to do something else?” “I guess that is nice when he’s home, but I just COULDN’T do that, it’s too much time away.” “How much longer is he going to sail?”

As some of you may know, my husband has a very interesting career. He sails on an oil tanker down in the Gulf of Mexico, and this job requires that he work for 75 days at a time and then gets to come home for about 75 days at a time. This means that when he is gone I am the only caretaker of our house and daughter, the only one going to church every Sunday (okay, almost every Sunday…), the one who takes out the trash, the main parent to our children and the person who sleeps with a gun on the bedside table at night.

But most of all, we are a married couple who love each other very much. So, yes, it can be hard. But, he may never do anything else. Unless we won the lottery, in which case HELLO COFFEE TRUCK! As we all know, those odds are slim. So, a-sailing he must go!

He was 27 and I was 20 when we met and was a few years into this career already, so there was hardly a transition. This just IS our normal. We have exchanged countless emails when he’s out at sea, and when he is in port, countless phone calls and texts. We got to know each other very well those months that we were dating and when I starting falling in love with him I very seriously weighed the consequences of marrying him. He who would have to be apart from me for almost three months at a time. Ouch. Of course, I decided that its totally and completely worth it. HE is worth it, and he obviously decided I was worth it too. Ever the gentleman, he did give me several opportunities to “back out”, and warned me that this lifestyle was not for everyone. Well here we are three years later with a baby. And neither of us will ever back out.

Our life is amazing. You know the phrase “absence makes the heart grow fonder”? Well, it does. I appreciate him always, but every time he leaves I am reminded at what an amazing man God let me marry. He is absolutely my best friend, and I like to throw around the term “soulmate” even though he thinks its cheesy as heck. Our relationship is on double time and on half time simultaneously. Since our time together is always precious we usually don’t sweat the small stuff. I say usually because how often can a girl trip over a man’s shoes in a day that were left in the walking path without getting the least bit annoyed? I can’t say that we are always good at “picking our battles” but we definitely don’t worry about things that are inconsequential in the long run. I’m not saying we never have disagreements or petty arguments because we do, but we have learned to resolve things quickly. We had to learn how to communicate very well especially when he is on the ship- because when he is working, everything else has to take a back burner, and that’s okay. He works really hard all day every day for 70-80 days straight.

Growing up I never thought I’d marry someone who would leave for extended periods of time because I like to be close to my people, yet here I am. Our life and this love are proof that the Lord will always know what is best for me and for us. This relationship is teaching me that I cannot always look to my husband for love, joy, and fulfillment; I must look to the Lord for those things.

“The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy and with my song I praise Him.” Psalm 28:7 NIV

“The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul.” Psalm 23: 1-3 ESV

Me and Baby on the bridge!

Chief Mate himself, with his best girl on the bridge!

The Beauty That Is Breastfeeding

Good afternoon! I'm just going to jump right in here.

Breastfeeding.

When I found out I was pregnant the very first thing I started to "fantasize" about was breastfeeding my baby! What sweet moments between the two of us, the bonding, the nurturing and the satisfaction that I was giving my baby the best option! In reality, I've never cried so much and also... OUCH. Breastfeeding HURTS, however, there is nothing like breast milk when it comes to nutrition, antibodies and so many other things so I kept it up! It's so good for your new baby.... and when the time came for my milk to "come in" a few days after my girl was born I got a big huge nothing. Okay, I had a little bit. But my daughter is my husbands child and she was HUNGRY ALL THE TIME. After a few days, horror of horrors, baby lost weight when she should have been gaining. (Yes I know that babies loose some ounces after they are born because they aren't attached to the feeding tube aka umbilical cord. Baby lost her newborn ounces, gained some back and then lost them again... not good.) I started pumping and realized that she was only getting half an ounce from me TOTAL. I cried for days. After all, isn't this is what my body is supposed to be able to do?! Is there something wrong with me?! I started drinking a beer every day, I ate lactation cookies, took lactation supplements, drank gallons of water every day and when I wasn't feeding baby, I was pumping. I pumped while she napped, I pumped after I fed her to up the demand.... I started losing my mind. And on top of that I was still having to supplement with formula.

I found myself sitting all day, every day and my milk supply had only gone up by an ounce. I wasn't sleeping very much at night because baby was still waking up every three to four hours and I was starting to feel sad and angry all the time. 

Thankfully, Jesus loves me and all of a sudden women I was very good friends with started sharing how they too had low milk supply! I was stunned! Low milk supply is a thing?! I looked it up, and read blogs and articles about moms everywhere who, for whatever reason, also had low-to-no milk supply. I was encouraged and was able to come to terms with the fact that what I had going on was not unheard of. I started calling my boobs unmotivated instead of defective.

I had to start getting active again, and regain some of my sanity. I stopped stressing out about pumping all the time ( it wasn't really helping anyway), going on walks every day because I had a little more freedom and my baby was doing great! Normal in every way and gaining and growing. Formula was saving me. 

Fast forward to today- after the move and not being able to pump at all, or really nurse in the morning like we used to, my milk supply tanked and now I have drops. I have peace of mind though. As my OB nurse said, breast milk is great, formula is good. And now that baby is eating more solid foods I've stopped worrying about it completely. Baby is happy and healthy, and I'm not chained to my pump. 

Maybe with the next baby my body will kick into drive, but I can't hinge my triumphs or failures as a mother on something that's completely out of my control. I'm just thankful formula isn't evaporated milk and corn syrup anymore. 

Thanks for reading!

Basically newborns are awake only long enough to nurse and pee/poop.

Milk drunk is a real thing. Soooo cute

 

Baby was really good at breastfeeding! And then after a few weeks she figured out that the bottle was faster.... and then it was a battle of wills every time we had to nurse. She always won.