Category Archives: thoughts on life

Beginning of a Journey

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I think that the last six weeks have been the longest of my life.  Even longer than the last six weeks of pregnancy (did I really say that?).

Our Christmas season was nice, but consumed with home inspections, contract negotiations, packing and planning, mingled in with the regular Christmas busyness. I was so excited, anticipating the move, the new house, the new beginning all the while feeling twinges of homesickness for the house I had loved so much.

We planned to move the weekend of January fourth.  Moving day dawned bright and beautiful, although very cold; the high temperatures that day only reached the teens.  Everything went wonderfully, we had lots of help from family and friends and our new neighbors.  We were upbeat, optimistic and excited.  We noticed when we unloaded during our second trip that the house didn’t seem to be warming up, despite the furnace running; in fact it seemed that the vents were blowing cold air.  I figured that because it was so cold outside (below zero at this point) and the doors were open with people unloading that the furnace just couldn’t keep up.

Boy, was I wrong.

Later, I was alone at the new house with the kids, who were playing and exploring their new house.  I was nursing Squishy, under a big quilt because it was freezing, and heard the furnace click off.  I looked at the thermostat it was 45 degrees in the house.  I knew the furnace was in working, order; we had had it inspected and serviced, could it be the propane?  This house, being so far out from town, runs off its own propane system, something that is new to us, and we hadn’t even thought to check the levels of the propane tank.  When Dadzoo got back and unloaded the truck, he went and looked at the meter on the tank.

It wasn’t low….  It was EMPTY.  Zero.  Nothing.

There we were, with our children, our babies with no heat and it was negative eight degrees outside….

It was going to be a long, long night.

I got the children settled with many blankets and a small space heater, while Dadzoo researched propane companies.  Realizing there was nothing we could do until morning and we could contact the previous owner we, took the babies to bed with us (to keep them warm) and tried to sleep.

I cried.  I wanted to go home.

The next morning was chilly, we hurried and dressed and headed back to the old house to take hot showers, load more stuff and figure things out.  Dadzoo spent most of the morning on the phone trying to figure out how to get propane delivered while our good neighbors loaded all the big stuff into the truck.

To make a long story short, we weren’t going to be able to have any propane delivered until Monday morning.  Because of liability issues we had to have an account set up with the propane company that owns our tank before they could deliver, and since it was a weekend there wasn’t any office staff to set things up for us.  They promised a truck would be there first thing to pressurize our lines (since we had to turn the gas off, there wasn’t enough propane to even hold a pilot light) and fill the tank.  In talking with the company, we found out that the previous owner had been out of propane for quite some time.  While I was really angry that she didn’t inform us, so we could have had it taken care of before we moved it, I tried to focus more on how sad it was that she couldn’t heat that house for her children.

Saturday we moved the rest of our things, with the exception of a few odds and ends.  Family came over and helped me put the kitchen away.  It was cold.  My little Monkey walked around in her coat with a runny nose and purple fingers.  The only warm spots were right next to the space heaters.  It was so cold that they didn’t really help unless you were right next to them.  I was so discouraged.  I wanted to get my house in order, but it was so very cold.  My children were cold (but not complaining!)  My baby had to be bundled, but as much as I tried to keep her wrapped up every time I would nurse her, her little nose and chin were freezing, and she had developed a yucky cough.  The thought of staying another night in that house was unbearable.   I just couldn’t do it.  I was trying so hard to be brave, but I just couldn’t, all I could do was lay my head on the ice cold table and cry.  I wanted to go home, I wanted a hot shower, a warm bed, familiar surroundings, a CLEAN (the new house, despite having had it cleaned was filthy and smelly) place to be.  I was so homesick, tired and discouraged I thought my heart was going to tear in two.

I just kept thinking “what had we done!”

Dadzoo, saw my distress, and because he is a kind man, packed us all up and took us back to the old house for the night.  The kids slept on the floor, the babies in porta-cribs and Dadzoo and I on an air mattress (thanks to my dear neighbors who picked it up for us at Walmart).  It was good to be home.  I cried off and on all night long.  I had no idea I was going to have such a hard time leaving.  I had no idea how much I had loved that home, and now I was leaving, all the time, love and work for an orphan of a house that had no heat, a fixer-upper, that smelled bad and was dirty.   What was I thinking!

Sunday was a little better, we cleaned the old house, packed up and moved the few odds and ends and ran some errands.  We were able to stay in the old house one more night, per our contract we didn’t need to vacate until Monday morning (tender mercy!).  We rented a couple of movies, ordered pizza and had a little going away party on the floor of our old master bedroom.

Early Monday morning we left the keys on the kitchen counter, locked the doors for the last time and pulled out of the drive way.  We said goodbye to eleven and a half years, to all those memories, to the place we brought home four babies, and birthed one.  We said goodbye to all the work we had put in, all the love, the tears all those moments.  How we loved that place, our first home.

At nine o’clock that morning we met a big beautiful propane truck.  I have never wanted to kiss a man (that wasn’t my husband) so much before.  He filled our tank, checked our lines, lighted the pilot lights and fired things up.  By that afternoon the house was toasty warm, our things were starting to get put away and spread out and slowly things were starting to feel like home.

We have lived here now two weeks, and every day I get glimpses of home, as we work on this little orphan house we put more of ourselves into it and it becomes ours.  We have a long road ahead, there is a lot of renovation and loving to be done, but we are going to jump in with both feet and in the process make this place, home.

I Learn About Gossip

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Gossip hurts,

and I need to repent.

This weekend it came to my attention that I was briefly the topic of conversation among a group of ladies.  Apparently I am thought of as kind of weird in a few areas, and in one area in particular I am especially strange and wrong.  The person who told me all this didn’t mean to hurt my feelings, and at the time we laughed at what was being said, although deep inside it stung, and as the day went on the feelings of hurt became more acute.  I don’t have many friends, and I feel as if I generally have a hard time fitting into any group, and this particular group I don’t really feel like I fit it very well, but I did feel wanted, until now.  Later that evening I was at a party with some of the members of this “group” and in total honesty, I felt like an outsider, I felt judged, I felt like I didn’t belong and I could see very well how much I didn’t fit in.

My judgment had been clouded.

I probably was being a little too sensitive, but I was hurting.

Here is the part that really upset me.

As I was sitting there, silently watching everyone, feeling more and more depressed, it occurred to me that I had done the exact same thing to almost everyone in the room.  That very thing that was making me feel horribly isolated, I had done, and more than once.  I would never consider myself a gossip, until I honestly looked at myself.  I would never consider the things I had said as very hurtful, until I was on the receiving end of gossip.  It hit me square in the heart, I need to repent and change my tone of conversation.  I am going to work really hard at only saying kind words, at only speaking of someone if what I am about to say could be said in their presence.  The only time negative information will pass my lips is if someone needs to know, taking the word NEED very seriously.

I don’t want to create hurt like I felt, and I am truly sorry for any pain I have cause because of my own gossiping.  It was a hard lesson to learn.

Birthing at Home

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“The MIdwife” by Loren Entz

I just want to start out by saying, home birthing isn’t for everyone.  Dadzoo and I carefully considered, researched and prayed about our decision to home birth, and it was the correct decision for us, this won’t be the same for everyone, and I respect that.  Every woman should be shown respect for her birthing decisions.

I have seven children, the first five were born in a hospital after being induced with pitocin and given an epidural, the sixth baby was born at a hospital completely unmedicated (no pitocin or epidural) and my seventh was born at home.  I wish I would have done them all at home, I loved it that much!

I just wanted to share some thoughts about that home birth, things that didn’t fit into the story or I forgot to include.

First of all. Midwives. Are. Awesome.

-It was family centered.  My kids were there, my husband was there, and not just the guy sitting in the corner, he was part of the action.  He helped with my crazy pushing stage, he lay next to me and held me as I delivered, he had his arms around both me and baby as we all got acquainted.

-It was mother centered.  There was no “letting”.  I will explain.  At the hospital they “let” me drink some juice while laboring, they “let” me get off the monitors if I sat still for 20 mins, they would “let” me use the tub if I wanted, they would “let” me refuse some procedures…. etc….  At home I made choices.  I ate when I wanted to, I was monitored off and on, but only when asked and I consented, I got in and out of the shower as I pleased and walked or paced or lay down as I wanted, for any procedures on me or baby I was consulted and I made a choice.  No one made me do anything, or “let” me do anything.  Nothing was ever done for the convenience of the midwives, the adapted for me.  At one point I had IV antibiotics, it was during transition and the contraction were very intense.  I have been given IV’s many times during my previous 6 births, and usually at some point not only would I be working through contractions, I would be doing it while being stuck with needles.  This time was different.  The midwife was finding a vein as a contraction started up, as soon as she saw I was contraction, the tourniquet was whipped off the the needle put away until the contraction was over.  The midwives were also very quiet (with one exception, but she was a student and my doula got her to shush up), during contractions they were nearly silent and during transition they whispered instead of talking among themselves.  They followed my cues, if I wanted to talk or chat in between contractions, they would do that, if I wanted to close my eyes and be quiet, they were quiet too.  I didn’t have to say a word, they just read me really well.

-My body was respected.  I wasn’t just another cervix, birth canal or bulging belly.  For every touch, every examine I was asked first.  From the very first prenatal, no one ever laid a hand on me where I wasn’t asked first and had given consent.  “Can I palpitate your uterus?”  “Can I feel the position of the baby?”  “Let me know if you would like an examine.”  “You are so close, can I help support your perineum?”  “Let me know if this hurts.”….etc….  I have never felt so in control, or so respected.  There were times that my main midwife wanted a student midwife involved in an examine or prenatal visit, I was always consulted first.  When my midwife was determining the position of my baby at one of my last prenatals she asked if a student could try and practice on me, I said that would be fine, and before the student touched me she asked, “is it ok if I feel baby’s position”.  Wonderfully refreshing!

-I was in complete control of my care.  My midwife was just a guide, all decisions were up to me.  I decided if I wanted an ultrasound, blood work, diabetes test, GBS testing, vitamin K shots, eye drops and PKU testing.  I was given information, I was given opinions if I asked for them, but ultimately the decision was up to me and Dadzoo, and we took responsibility for each and every one.

-My postpartum care was the best I have ever had.  I had a phone call at 24 hours.  I had a home visit, that lasted an hour, at 48 hours.  I had my midwife’s cell phone number and was told to call at anytime, for anything.  I had an appointment at two weeks that lasted an hour.  I had access to lactation consultants and postpartum doulas and I could have as many appointments with my midwife as I needed.  When I told her I didn’t feel the need for a 6 week check, she said that was fine, if I felt good that there was really no need, but if I change my mind to please call.  I feel like I could still call her for any of my woman care needs.  I don’t feel like I have been cut lose.

My home birth/midwife experience was extremely positive.  I don’t have any complaints.  I loved the care I received, I didn’t feel like one out of a hundred clients.  I felt like I was being cared for by a trusted friend who knew me as a person, a woman and a mother.

Yes, I am still alive

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Barely….

Some days it is all about survival and some days we thrive!

So I have been thinking:

– 1 year olds are funny little monkeys, Little Lady keeps me busy cleaning up her messes and laughing at her antics.

-One of the reasons God created nursing, so busy mama’s have to sit down and hold their babies.

-Sleep is a good thing

-I want a farm house on a lot of land, I would like to drive down my own lane to get to the farm house.  I would also like a barn, and I want to grow heirloom tomatoes.

-It takes a lot of energy to run a household with 9 people in it.

-I don’t like homework, I didn’t like it when I was a kid, and I don’t like it now that my kids have to do homework.  It seems like my kids have much more homework (aka busy work) than I ever did and at earlier ages.  Makes me consider homeschool.

-I love birthing at home, I wish I had done it with all my kids.

-Speaking of birthing, I need to write down Little Miss’ birth story, but I hesitate to do it, it was kind of hairy (2 1/2 days laboring) and I don’t want people to tell me I did it wrong….

-I need to work on a budget and start saving money like a crazy person if I am to ever have that farm house, barn and lane.

-Laundry is my enemy.  If I have to pick between a nap and folding laundry I pick the nap.  Did I mention that Little Miss isn’t sleeping though the night?  Laundry can wait.

-I want to have more children, but not right now.

-I plan to blog regularly again, I just wish I knew how to attract more readers…..

Have a good day!