• 5 covers, 4 Thirsties v2, size small, $6.50 from Diaper Swappers, and 1 Fab Fitted, print, $13.25. Total $39.25
• 16 Target Flour Sack Towels, $1 each, 3 birdseye Flats, $1.80 each, 2 preemie prefolds, .80 each. Total $23
• 1 snappi $4, 15 wipes $3 (repurposed, torn blankets, and baby washcloths). Homer camp style Wash Bucket, $7. Total $14

So for $76.25, I was able to cloth diaper my baby, with the right supplies, for life!

The good: Flats were surprisingly easy! Folding was not as complicated or time consuming as I assumed. We had 3 leaks in 8 days, so they are very absorbent. I had no problem changing a diaper at 6am while half asleep with a wiggly baby. Being a geographically single mom with 4 other kids did not complicate it. My flats are SO forgiving, they are still beautiful white, soft, and smell like cotton. One of my covers got a little stained, but nothing that will effect wear. I love how trim they are, and how small they will fold into my suitcase when we travel. Line drying was so simple, and even on an overcast cool slightly breezy day, clothesline flats and covers dried much faster than inside hung diapers. Overnight is the perfect amount of time for indoor drying.

The bad: I will not lie, hand washing was hard. It was time consuming, tiring, and I really missed my washer and dryer at the end. In a real life situation I would probably have a larger quantity of diapers, and covers on hand. I would probably also try to borrow a washer a few times a week. I also would use a better plunger, my wood handled plunger ended up flaking paint onto my diapers. I also was not impressed on how much water it took to get my diapers clean.

The ugly: My hands are pretty calloused, my shoulders hurt the first part of the week, and my nerves were shot at the end by trying to wash quickly while the baby was napping, or folding flats off the line one handed with baby in arms. Liam was less than patient at times, and there were washes where I would get the baby calmed, run, agitate two minutes, comfort a baby again, plunge some more.

What I would do/do different: Like I said, I better handle for a plunger was necessary. My adjustable shower head that can adjust to a single jet was a lifesaver. A wet pail where it could not pose a drowning risk was so helpful. Hangers and clothespins to hang diapers from worked out so well. Line drying even when chilly and overcast pays off. A sense of humor was mandatory, as well as a healthy dose of determination. Splashing was almost guaranteed, wearing pajamas that I was going to change out of with pants rolled up worked well. I may have looked for a faster drying cover, I look forward to an Econobum coming in the mail, I hear they dry well. NEVER underestimate the power of the sun, instant whitener and stain lifter!

The best thing about this challenge was my confidence in myself, the amazing sense of community I gained, and the information gathered that I could not help but tell everyone about! In the forums, I repeatedly told people to try flats and come look at my blog. In Target, I stopped a young couple who were cloth diapering their baby and struggling with the start up cost and gave them a primer on flat use. And to my mom, who was probably ready for me to shut up already on cloth diapers in general.

What I am going to do next: Because I know I have all these new flats that I enjoy using, I am going to start de-stashing. I already got rid of quite a few older diapers. Next going will be newborn diapers split between 2 families, and then all my girly diapers to a friend north of me. After that? Who knows. Maybe I will find a family to sponsor with a primer guide as well as a half dozen flats and a cover?

Thank you Kim, at Dirty Diaper Laundry for taking us with you on what you described as Diaper Boot Camp. I feel like a much stronger warrior now, and I will continue to fight for the cause; for healthy bottoms, healthy budgets, and a healthy planet!

I was also feeling sentimental, so I sent Austin’s birth mom a text message thanking her for allowing me to be his mommy. She called me right back and we talked for about 30 minutes. It was nice to hear that she had no regrets, I have always worried she consented to the adoption out of desperation, and not because she truly wanted the best for him.

On Sunday, Austin turned 15. This is why I did Mother’s Day early. I knew he would make a fuss about it, and I didn’t want anything to distract him from his birthday. The little stinker still did, he made me breakfast in bed, and made eggs and bacon for the little ones. For his birthday dinner, he wanted me to make him BBQ Ribs on the grill. I also made corn bread and green beans. It was delicious. He played with his friends most of the day, he literally came home when the street lights came on. It was glorious. Our gift was delivered on Monday, a trampoline! The “t” was partially obscured on the package, so now the kids call it “the rampoline”.

For three days Austin and I built the rampoline together. Christopher helped keep the little three busy. I may or may not have taught Austin some new words as we stretched springs, and pulled safety nets tight. On the first day, I took a break for dinner, and just when I was about to put the last 5 of 8 safety net poles up, I asked Austin “do you smell something chemically??” He looked downstairs, and I looked in my bathroom, and I do believe my head exploded. That is a full bottle of deep purple nail polish, and some bare minerals face powder. I scrubbed on that thing for probably 6 hours (I was up until 3am) and I managed to lighten it to a lilac color, but it didn’t come out. I will need to replace the carpet in my bathroom. Right now it is half vinyl, half carpet, and I am hoping our landlord will let us rip out all the flooring in the bathroom and replace it with coordinating vinyl.
Liam is growing so fast, too fast. His new name is Mr. Grabbyhands. He has learned how to play with the toys on his bouncer to activate music. He has also learned how to make mama yelp in pain by grabbing onto a huge handful of hair and yanking really hard. He also can roll from his belly to his back, and most recently his back to his belly.

To all of our surprise, she kept running and then flung herself into his arms, holding onto him tightly. He picked her up and hugged her and started walking towards us with Sophie still in his arms. He told me he was pretty surprised how social she is, he expected her to be somewhat shy. I explained that she was really missing her daddy right now, so she’s a bit more affable right now. I think this statement made the doctor a little heartbroken, he has three little girls himself and could not imagine having to be away from them. To all the daddies (and mommies) out there, missing their sons and daughters, you have my complete sympathy. Especially to our troops, who not only risk their safety for our freedom, but miss out on time with their loved ones.

Oh, and Liam got a clean bill of health. She told me to take him off the albuterol, but to finish the antibiotics. His lungs sound fantastic, and she didn’t think a follow up with neurology or pulmonology is necessary. She did say he is at a slighter risk of developing asthma when he’s older, but given his family history, that comes to no surprise. We will just watch and wait and when another round of illness comes rolling through, you can guarantee I will be watching him like a hawk.

While we were being discharged, Liam’s final labwork came back confirming that it was not RSV, not Pertussis and most likely pneumonia. They also told me pneumonia is normally caught at the second x-ray, so not to be confused or upset that his first one was clear. My nurses were wonderful those 2 1/2 days, they were very attentive to Liam and I, making sure I took care of myself and reminded me to eat and drink and get sleep when I could. On that last day, little man was so feisty, he removed half of his nasal cannula (it was turned off, but there just in case he needed it) so they went ahead and unhooked it instead of re-taping it. He ripped out his breathing monitor, so they removed it too. He got the hint and started working on pulling off his IV sock, but unfortunately that stayed in place until discharge, along with the O2 sensor on his toe that he kept trying to wiggle off.

He came home with antibiotics, and a cream to treat a rash from those antibiotics, as well as instructions to use his breathing treatments every 6 hours as needed. I learned the “blow by”, where I point the spray near his mouth, is a LOT less stressful than the mask, which delivers more medicine, but causes him to panic and cry. The RTs (Respiratory Therapists), and Pediatricians agreed the extra dose of medicine is just not worth the cost of panic and confusion.

Last night was amazing, I missed my bed. A fold down chair in a hospital with nurses and RT’s coming and going, monitors beeping, and lights shining through the curtain is just no match to a Sleep Number bed in a dark room with no noises. Liam’s soft snores were comforting last night, I could hear the constant reminder that he was breathing rhythmically and easily. Liam went from waking every 3 hours to nurse at the hospital, to sleeping 9 long glorious hours at once. It was the little things that I enjoyed the most when we got home. Being able to hold my baby without cords and tubes. Of course having all 5 of my babies together. Being able to nurse my baby any where I wanted, and not be tied to a chair next to his bed. Coffee prepared the way I like it, when I want it, and as much as I want. And most of all knowing how having us home helps ease the worry and stress my kids and husband were going through, not being able to see Liam’s progress, like I was.

It is hard to believe my little man is already 3 months old (as of yesterday). He’s turning into a baby right in front of my eyes as some of his infant traits melt away. For instance, he rarely has evenings where he cries for no apparent reason from 9pm-10pm anymore. He also smiles, coos, and laughs now. He still has some more work to do on his head control, but he does well with holding it up, he’s just wobbly still. He also sleeps through the night very well, most nights for 7-9 hours at a time. If only I could get myself to lay down when he does, life would be near perfect.

He’s a pretty happy baby, at Matthew’s kindergarten teacher-conference yesterday, every time she would go into teacher mode when she read along with Matthew, he would start laughing. Something about her speech pattern just cracked him up. He’s pretty awesome about allowing anyone to hold him too. I remember Matthew & Sophie having a pretty healthy dose of stranger anxiety at this age, but not Christopher or Liam!

Oh dear Sophie, this girl is Drah-mah! She only naps about half of the time we lay her down, and then sometimes she will fight and by dinner time she is so exhausted we find her like this. Yes, that is my coffee table. We are still working on potty training, and it is so hit or miss. She still won’t poop on the potty, and today she peed on the potty. No “atta girl’s” here… I mean she peed ON the potty, as in panties up, onto the toilet lid. Don’t laugh. Okay, go ahead and laugh; I did. But don’t laugh in front of her.

Aren’t my boys cute?? Austin loves his baby brother. In case you are wondering, that is a road rash on Austin’s face. He ate the pavement with his face while riding his bike two months ago. Poor boy has his father’s bravado, combined with my grace. This totally explains why he has a major accident every other year starting in Kindergarten.

Quickies:

Liam is 2 months old today, he had a well baby exam and was 13 lbs. 3 oz shy of a 6 pound weight gain. Over 6 pounds if you count his lowest weight, he’s also gained 3 inches. Pretty awesome if you figure he’s gained 3 inches in 2 months and the average is 2 inches. The average weight gain is 5-7oz a week and he averages 11.6 a week.

Dude– I’m never getting another Dell. Christopher’s charger for his Alienware broke. 4 months of light use, we are talking probably 20 times of unplugging/plugging. It is a BAD design, think of a thin copper wire, like maybe the size of a .7mm pencil lead, housed inside a plug as big around as a pencil with the eraser pulled out. I was told that they would not honor my warranty because if it broke, it was “abuse”. BS! Got an aftermarket charger on eBay, no way is Dell getting $80 from me for a new cord.

Dyson, ROCKS. I love them! Their customer service is top notch. I called to order a new cover for brush, a thin piece melted or broke off. They are sending an entire brush mount, a $110 retail part, for free, on a 1 1/2 yr old vacuum. No questions asked. So now my raves for customer service are Apple, Comcast, Dyson, Verizon, Automated Petcare Products (Litter Robot), and of course USAA.

Austin was holding Liam last week and said “I LOVE it when his face turns colors, it is so red”. I said “yes honey, that is because he’s pooping”. His eyes got big, his face got red and he said “oh god no!!” and passes him back to me. Funny boy!

Sophia is totally potty trained, and we ventured out into public today without any accidents. Still no poop success, and we have not braved overnight yet.

Matthew got this ‘stache from a birthday party yesterday, I had to tell him to take it off to go to bed, he wanted to keep it on. I told him he looks like a young Burt Reynolds, but he didn’t get the reference, so I called him Baby Earl from the TV showMy Name is Earl. All day I was saying “my name is Matt”.

Christopher has been an absolute joy this week. He’s finally been allowed to get a Facebook page and has been absolutely superb at getting his chores done without being told.

I started writing this post 7 hours ago. I kept getting interrupted.

I love those sweet first “I am smiling at you, not because I farted” smiles.

Liam is getting a lot more interactive. He smiles. He laughs (and scares himself when he does) from time to time. He’s also has longer periods where he is awake, and is sleeping for longer stretches.

Even though he won’t be four weeks old until tomorrow, I wanted to go ahead and update while I had a moment… easier said than done when you have five kids (only the little three are home right now, and the littlest one is napping).

He’s a pretty mellow little guy, but he is also pretty needy, especially at night. He will sleep a couple hours at a time as long as he is in my arms. I am getting more accustom to sleeping with him in my arms, which is something I just do not enjoy.

[Interruption #1, Sophia climbed up on her dresser and dumped all the water from her wipe warmer all over her dresser and floor trying to plug it in. It was unplugged because it is broken.]

His brothers and sister adore him, but his sister is not too sure she likes sharing her spotlight. I know she loves him, but I also think she’s a little resentful that he’s always in arms. I am trying my hardest to make sure she gets extra attention and I am including her in his care by asking her to be my helper.

[Interruption #2, 3 & 4. Sophie is trying to dress herself and is bringing me clothes, shoes, and a diaper. Then she broke the latch off her dress-up chest and wanted me to come fix it.]

Matthew is constantly asking to hold Liam, and usually his timing is bad. I will have just latched him onto the breast and Matt appears out of nowhere and says “Can I hold Liam?”

[Interruption #5, 6, 7, Sophia found a shirt she liked and asked me to button it up, asked me to put a diaper on her that was wet from the wipe warmer water, and when I sent her away for a dry one she brought a pocket that didn't have an insert]

Christopher really does not ask or attempt to hold him anymore.

[Interruption #8, had to empty the potty chair]

Austin loves holding him though and is always asking to hold him, or stealing him out of his swing. I am so impressed with him, he is going to make such a good husband and daddy someday. He does his own laundry, loves to cook, adores babies and is very thoughtful. I figure when he’s 30 I am going to auction him off to the highest bidder.

[Interruption #9, 10 & 11, emptied the potty seat again, broke up a fight between Sophie & Matt over a balloon, and got a hug from Matthew for finding a lost villain for his superhero toys.]

Sophie has to be reminded not to put her feet on Liam’s head, I am not sure WHY she insists on doing this, but it is annoying.

[Interruption #12, drama over panties. Sophie claims she has some, Matthew tells her she doesn't, shouting match ensues.]

[Interruption #13-16, Liam wakes up, on the way to get him I have to rescue Sophie from herself, she has somehow climbed in the back of her diaper storage tower and is stuck. Get the baby up, change his diaper and his clothes. Sophie throws a fit because she insists she needs a wipe. Then throws another fit because I closed my door, not her.]

Liam is a pretty content little guy, he loves to cuddle and watch your face. He’s starting to smile a bit and engage a bit more.

[Interruption #17, baby needs to nurse.]

[Interruption #18 through ??.... had to make lunch one handed for Sophie & Matt, pick up my kitchen, all while holding a fussy boy who wants to nurse again.]

#!&% it, I give up. Yup, I see exactly why the last 4 weeks have flown by.

FYI: this took me 90 minutes to write.

I was due with baby #5 on 12/27/10, but given my history of 40+5 – 41 week births, I truly expected to meet my son or daughter in January. Around 33 weeks I was risked out of home birth for blood pressure readings over the 140/90 mark and encouraged to see my homebirth midwife’s favorite OB. At first, I was so angry and hurt I was feeling like I was not important in this busy practice. I would drive 45 minutes, wait 45 minutes, see the nurse for 5 minutes and the OB or CNM for 5 minutes then drive 45 minutes back. My kids were frustrated, I was frustrated and I was just so sad every time my blood pressure was taken and they would tell me how good it was. However I kept reminding myself “it is what it is” and each visit got better and I slowly changed my outlook and my attitude. I told myself that everything has its purpose, and there had to be purpose for this. Maybe this would be my healing hospital birth after my first and second left me feeling like a spectator at a sport where I had lost control and dignity? Maybe I could prove to myself I could have a natural hospital birth?

I diligently wrote up my birth plan. I stated I wanted my baby’s cord to be cut only after it stopped pulsating. I wanted to labor and deliver in the water, after all, this hospital *IS* the only one in my state that allows planned waterbirths. I did not want medication offered to me. I wanted to push in any position I wanted to be in and I didn’t want someone telling me when to push. And most of all I didn’t want pitocin or anything else to augment my labor.

So Christmas came and went without even a braxton hick. I just had to make it through my husband’s birthday the next day so I didn’t “ruin Christmas or my Birthday” as he kept teasing me. My little boy had plans of his own. Around 3pm on December 26th my contractions started coming 5 minutes apart, lasting a little over a minute. They were still pretty mild, so I just went about my routine. After dinner, I needed Bobby to blow up my birth ball so I could rock through them. By the time my kids went to bed, they started picking up and I would have to pause and breathe through them. By 1am on my due date, I decided I needed my doula here to help me through them. They started getting closer together and lasting longer, so around 3am we decided to head up to the hospital since it was an hour away.

I arrived at the hospital and they hooked me up to the monitors. My contractions had slowed down a bit so we decided to walk the halls until they picked up a little more. Around 6am they checked me, and I was only 2cm dilated with a baby who was not engaged. We decided I would go home, take a bath and a nap, and come back when labor picked back up. They did think it would be today though. A due Date baby! I was excited because only about 5% of all babies are born on their due dates, and it was my earliest baby yet!

Instead of driving all the way home, we decided to stay in a hotel down the street where I would take my bath, crawl into bed, and sleep. While in the bath I noticed I was losing fluid of some sort, but it appeared to have color in it, so I assumed it was my mucous plug. When I felt more fluid coming out I stood up and called my husband and noticed green water running down my legs in large gushes. Not only had my water broken, but the baby had passed meconium, which could suggest the baby was in distress. 45 minutes after we arrived at our hotel, we were leaving. Talk about a very expensive hour! Bobby and I joked that it looked like I was just a booty call, and he had some sicko pregnancy fetish.

This time when I arrived at the hospital, it was for keeps; they put me into the water birthing suite and hooked me up to monitors for intermittent monitoring. I called my doula back, and when she arrived we started walking the halls. Around noon, they checked me again and I was still unchanged, so I ask her to stretch me if at all possible.

She was able to stretch me to a 4-5cm, but my baby was still really high and not moving down. My contractions were mostly in my back, so my doulas did hip squeezes and we do squats with each contraction to move my baby down. While we were walking the halls, I saw my old midwife, who is there with other clients who had to transfer during labor, and she gave me a big hug and words of encouragement from her mentor; “remember, each centimeter is not created equally”. Around 6pm my contractions were starting to space out, and my baby was still not dropping, so it was suggested that while our doulas were taking a break for dinner, maybe Bobby and I should try nipple stimulation to pick up labor, because the OB wanted to start pitocin. When the doulas returned a half hour later, we asked for a little more time and tried lunges and rebozo.

[My doulas, Diksha & Sarah, using the Rebozo on me to get baby to move into a more favorable position]

We decided the baby was in a funky position and that is why s/he was not moving down and engaging, and without strong contractions to push the baby onto my cervix, l just would not dilate. At 7pm I was checked again and I still had not changed at all since noon, when I was stretched from a 2 to a 4-5.

[Me with my nurse, also named Heather]

My nurse gently suggested that I change rooms, since I could no longer labor or deliver in the birthing tub, because I was getting pitocin, and they were expecting a couple who desired a water birth. I was not about to let someone else lose their chance at a water birth, so we moved. But it was sad to cross another thing off my birth plan. The pitocin drip was placed, and it was a gentle slow process that was monitored closely.

The pit was only turned up every 45-60 minutes by 1ml (out of 30) and only if my contractions were not picking up. I tried to rest between contractions and I was able to nap through some of the early ones, but by the time I reached 6ml, I was done. I was physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted. I don’t remember what time it was, but I think by that time I had been in labor 36+/- hours, and I was beat. I asked for an epidural and anesthesia was called while they pushed IV fluids. The contractions were in my hips, chest, back, and lower abdomen, and just felt unnatural. My doulas made sure I really wanted this, and let me know it was possible I was closer than I thought, but respected my wishes when I said I was done. They told me how proud they were of me for sticking it out so long. I had some “rock your world” contractions while waiting for my IV bag to empty, they called them double peak I think? I would have one long strong contraction, with a second, shorter one right immediately afterward. My nurse said it suggested a posterior baby, so while waiting on the anesthesiologist we did some exercises to try to rotate the baby. We had to pause the epidural process three times for contractions, but finally it went in and halfway into my 4th contraction, my feet went dead.

The pitocin was turned up while I rested, but the monitor kept losing the baby’s heart beat, and my contractions were not being picked up at all. When we got to 8ml, the OB and nurse noticed the baby’s heart was decelerating with each contraction. They placed an internal contraction monitor in to see if they were happening at the beginning or end of each contraction because I guess one was better than the other. The OB mentioned that I may need a cesarean because my placenta may be showing signs of stress at this point, but they were willing to watch and wait. The pitocin was turned off and my contractions stopped and so did the decels. They turned it back on to about 6ml and watched to see what part of my contractions caused the decels. About 3 contractions later it was determined that they were caused by cord compression and that I could continue to labor. Some of the decels scared Bobby though as they dropped down to about 45bpm for a few seconds. I was put on oxygen and they moved me from one side to another. From time to time my legs were moved to open up my hips to encourage baby to drop. Around 7am I was checked and only at about 7cm and a -2 station, but with each contraction I would open to about 9.5 with a thick lip, so she let me try some test pushes to see if I could move through the lip, but baby just would not move down enough and when I stopped pushing, baby would pop right back up. My OB then went off duty and her midwife took over. Finally, shortly before 9am on December 28th, 43 hours into labor and 26 hours after my water broke, the midwife decided we could try pushing again. By this time I could feel my legs and my contractions and I was ready to get my baby out.

NICU was on hand because of the meconium, and my doula and Bobby held my legs since I still didn’t have complete strength back. It took 1 or 2 contractions, with about 4-6 good pushes to get baby’s head out, it was cocked to one side, asynclitic they call it, and baby had a hand up next to its face. With the second contraction I got out baby’s shoulders and then I was told not to push while she cut the cord (it was wrapped around the neck and the abdomen) and she suctioned baby’s mouth and nose. Finally with one last push my baby was born at 9:07am. Before passing baby off to the respiratory therapist, she asked my husband “tell them what you see daddy” and Bobby announced we had a baby boy! This was part of my birth plan. Oh, and I was told when I could push, but no one counted or instructed me how to push, so my birth plan was somewhat followed in that aspect too.

Baby was suctioned and given to Daddy to hold and then handed to me.

I held him and said his name over and over again, “Jackson”, and I nursed him, but then I started shaking so bad that I handed him back to daddy and they did the newborn exam. He was 7lbs 3oz, the same that I was at birth, and 19″ long.

I called my mom to announce his birth and tell her we named him “Jackson Liam”, but got off the phone when my shaking got to be too much. It was around this time I noticed Bobby looking at the baby funny. I thought maybe he was disappointed we had a 4th boy, instead of a 2nd girl, but finally he said “he just does not look like a Jackson to me, he looks like a Liam”, and I had to agree, he DID look like a Liam.

[Liam with my amazing doula Sarah]

[Liam with my incredible doula Diksha]

Liam and I both had fevers, so it was decided that they would take blood samples and allow them to grow for 48 hours to make sure he didn’t have an infection. My water was broken for 26 hours and I declined antibiotics, so I decided not to fight the doctor’s orders. I got my first shower and Bobby brushed my hair for me and we discussed middle names while we were waiting on the Dr. to get back from lunch. We decided on Liam Michael, we liked how it sounded and I have an uncle and cousin and we have a good friend named Michael, and it just fit. After the blood draws, Bobby headed back home to relieve the babysitter and get some rest. Our fevers went down, and Liam got his first bath.

The next afternoon, Bobby brought the kids up to meet their brother, and it was love at first sight. Sophie was a bit standoffish with me, like she had been when dad first came home, but warmed up quick when she saw the baby. They each got to hold him, and then it was time for us to rest. I was released on the 30th, once his 48 hour culture came back negative.

Liam is 12 days old now. He’s doing well. He sleeps great during the day in his swing, our arms, or on our bed. Night is a different story, seems he only wants to sleep in my arms, while nursing, which is counterproductive to me sleeping. I love the age old question “Is he a good baby??” Sometimes I can resist the urge to say “well, he’s not paying for hookers or betting on the ponies, so he can’t be that bad”, usually though something smart slips out. We do seem to have some gas issues, which may be related to tongue-tie that I intend to talk to his pediatrician about this week when I see her. Other than that, he is gorgeous, and we adore him.

Sometimes birth is about letting go, and making compromises. As much as I didn’t want pitocin, or an epidural, even more so I didn’t want a cesarean. I wanted another home water birth, but I can only speculate that I would have been too tired and ended up transferring to the hospital and getting an OB I never met, who didn’t know my history and possibly was not as open minded about about my choices, or desires for a vaginal birth. As difficult as his birth was, it was also a healing birth. I learned that not all OBs are surgery happy, and some are very trusting of the birth process. I learned that having a good nurse and being in a good hospital can make all the difference in the world on what kind of outcome you can expect. And of course, your baby’s birth plan ALWAYS trumps your own birth plan, so expect the unexpected, and learn to roll with the punches and let go of expectations.

I want to mention how much I appreciated the support I received from my amazing husband, my wonderful doulas, my incredible RNs, my awesome OB & midwives, and everyone else who offered support, advice and encouragement. I love you all so much.

Liam’s birth was supposed to be my second (and final) homebirth. At 33 weeks, my blood pressure was slightly elevated for a second time in my pregnancy and I was risked out of homebirth for PIH (pregnancy induced hypertension). My midwife ran labs to make sure I wasn’t developing pre-eclampsia, and then consulted with an OB, and together they agreed that for our safety, it would be best if I could deliver at the hospital. My best chance of having a natural birth was at the hospital 26 miles away in a bigger city. I was crushed. I was angry, heartbroken, disappointed, scared, and then I let it go. “It is what it is” I told myself over and over, until eventually I believed it. I accepted this new challenge as a way to heal from my last two hospital births in which I succumbed to a domino effect of interventions that led to me being on my back, numb from an epidural pushing my baby out on command. I told myself my new goal was to have a different experience and I diligently wrote up a birth plan that included no pitocin, no epidural, no back pushing, laboring and delivering in the water and I was determined I would have my homebirth in a hospital.

The rest of my pregnancy had its ups and downs. The OB’s office had me waiting over an hour to be seen my first two appointments, and I was getting frustrated by how little time I spent with a provider, vs. my homebirth midwife where I was greeted at the door, never had to wait beyond a couple minutes *maybe* twice, and each of my visits was an hour long. Accepting that I was still important even though I no longer felt like a priority was difficult, but I had to remind myself my homebirth midwife has a lighter patient load because she chooses to. My blood pressure was never elevated again which was bittersweet. My birth plan was accepted and it was decided I could have a planned hospital waterbirth. Now I just had to wait to have my baby. It seemed everything was lining up perfect and this birth would be my “healing” birth.

Stay tuned for my update of Liam’s birth story.

It is almost 4 months later and we still have not settled in completely. We have to organize the garage and have about a dozen boxes out there we have not touched. We have only hung a couple pictures and still have to build some shelves in the storage room. We have a good excuse, but more about that in another post.

When I said the location here is perfect, I mean it. I love the schools, I love how close we are to a neighborhood park that is just gorgeous, and huge. We are a couple blocks from a 22 mile trail that runs miles through the county, and will soon be expanding to be 48 miles long. We are minutes from walking to lakes, ponds, streams, etc. On our back deck, we can sit outside and listen to a chorus of frogs at night. I have never been happier in any other city. The plan is to keep renting here until we sell our home in Colorado and then consider buying, but I have no desire to do that for another 5 years or so.

Ok, more updates to come, I am going to break them up by major events instead of backdating them to when they happened.

I cope by knitting another row onto an afghan I have been working on for two years. I listen to Bob Marley and remind myself that “every little thing, gonna be alright”, I drink tea and sometimes wine, and take walks and watch documentaries on Netflix. But no matter how much I distract myself, I am still frustrated that we still don’t have the information we thought we would have at the end of December; and every other Wednesday I am thankful that he still has a paycheck, and insurance, and a job, even if he is at home driving me nuts.

I used to romanticize the idea of working from home, but if anything, the last couple weeks has taught me that working from home is the equivalent at working in prison, with between one to five noisy cellmates hanging off of you like a bunch of baby orangutans. I sometimes wonder if he volunteers to go to the store in the evenings just to get away from it all, and even then he usually has to drag along a few primates with him. I really respect that he hasn’t gone all “Here’s Johnny!” on us and redrum-ed the kids and I.

So whenever I complain to myself that I am tired, frustrated, or frazzled (the trifecta of mommy-hood) I just remind myself that not only is he dealing with the same triple-punch, but on top of that has deadlines and reports and real-actual-get-paid-for-work that he has to complete without a nice, quiet space to run off to. Sometimes the silver lining is obvious, sometimes you have to dig deep to find it, but know that it is always there.

So the last month has been a whirlwind of emotion. You know the feeling of standing on a rug, then at the last minute having it yanked right out from underneath you? Well, that was my December. For the last 11 months, we have been looking for houses in North Virginia… just to find out that we may be going elsewhere. No big deal, except for… we have no clue where we are going. We won’t know for another week… but we have to be there in a month. Yes, a MONTH. Simply put, I am a freaking, freak-out, McFreakerson, mess.

We have also had a ton of health surprises with our little princess. She “failed” her 18 month well-baby checkup so to speak. She got the label of failure to thrive because she is growing too slow. This has earned her a couple referrals to specialists, a long list of lab tests, xrays, and a visit for her strange way of walking yielded a referral to a cardiologist for a heart murmur. On the bright side, December brought me a baby who can FINALLY walk. I had decided when she turned 16 months old that she would crawl off to college; and the tender age of 18 months and one week, she joined the upright world. She took off running, never looking back.

2010 will bring good things to anyone who looks for it. The second month of 2010 will bring home Bobby from Iraq, and new adventures in a new city and state. Thankfully, January should fly by since I will have just 3 weeks to find a place to live, interview and hire moving companies, research schools and neighborhoods in a new location, and all the other little bits and pieces. I am looking forward to the last month of his deployment not dragging, like the 9th month of pregnancy always does. I am really hoping I can keep busy enough that it will seem like no time before he’s home.

This morning I am paying for it. I have a bad case of the lazies and I just can’t seem to get myself out of this funk I keep hoping for a burst of inspiration to get back to work on the office that needs to be turned into a nursery, or finish hanging lights, painting, or installing the CO2 detectors, or even knitting would be a step up from what I am doing now.

On a positive note, I have been better about carving out time to make sure to get 30-60 minutes a day of exercise. Last night I was able to pull out a box of clothes I wore 6 years ago, before I got pregnant with Matthew and after I had lost 50 lbs, and the larger of the two sizes fit. I was so happy to have some new clothes that fit since all my others are too small. Unfortunately, these were all summery clothes, and we have snow on the ground here, so they will be around the house clothes or workout clothes until I can drop one more jean size.

Sophie did well. They were able to get the blood they needed from her bruised little arms, without drawing it from her head. I won’t know the results until next week, but I am hopeful we will get good results.