HOLD THE PHONE:

This recipe is to DIE for. I suggest you go make it. And eat as much as you can possibly justify. Or just forget about the justifying part and GO FOR IT.

Sit and Stay Awhile Apple Crisp

I made it for my husby because it's our 2.5 year anniversary today! Hooray!

wordless wednesday

taking a step back

Sometimes it's good to take a step back and assess where you are in life. It's humbling to take a moment and evaluate the attitudes you've developed, scrutinize the habits you've picked up, acknowledge your own shortcomings and apathy. Sometimes you just need to ask yourself, "how did I get here?"

If you let it, life can get away from you. You can get caught up in the day-to-day routine, keeping up with the times, and living according to other people's expectations of you. These things don't always lead us to bad places, but I think it's a smart thing to make sure you know where these things are, in fact, leading you. As Christians, we need to constantly be surrendering our lives to God's sovereign will. This takes brutal honesty and, oftentimes, the death of a dream or two.

Joey and I are taking time to evaluate where we are. Life's been motoring on full speed ever since we got married (two and a half years ago tomorrow!). At times it's felt like we've been on a lazy walk through the countryside, and at others like we're on a freight train hurtling on, heedless of what lies outside. Now that the craziness of summer camp has abated, it's like the train has come to a screeching halt and dropped us off in the middle of nowhere.

So, here we are. Re-evaluating. Getting our bearings. Finding out which direction is Up.

lazy day

baby wearing

relief!

It's late*, but I just wanted to give a little update:

My midwife took a look at the cracks I mentioned in the last post and promptly got me a prescription that will (hopefully) heal me in time. For now I'm restricted to feeding Benjamin on one side. Even though it feels like I don't have enough milk, I know my body will provide it. For a day it will mean feedings are long and frequent, but I'm sure I'll adjust. I am SO thankful for this intervention and pray that it will work!

I also found out that Benjamin gained a FULL POUND in a week. That is absolutely awesome! Even though breastfeeding has been excruciating, leading me to tears almost every time he latches on, I have been caring for him exactly as he needs. Praise God!

This WILL get better. I know it will.


*I don't even remember when I last thought quarter to 10 in the evening was late. Man, I'm getting old. ;)

in which I am rather raw

Remember what I said yesterday about feeling like I'm months ahead of myself? Yeah.

NO. I am not.

I had two good days, but I need to be honest and not pretend I have everything together. The truth is that breastfeeding is still the hardest thing I've ever had to do. It is excruciating to feed Benjamin when I have gaping WOUNDS on the important parts - not just cracks. And, no matter what I try, they won't heal. Pumping and nursing shields do nothing to help, either. I am certain Judah feels neglected because of the time I spend nursing Benjamin, and I'm also certain it can't be pleasant to taste blood in one's breast milk.

I went for a walk yesterday, and it really did feel good to get out of the house. Granted, it was still stressful to be toting around two children, but at least it was a change in scenery. I know people at camp wonder why they are only seeing Benjamin for the first time at three weeks old. But, what do you know? Having an 18 month old and a newborn is hard!

Today I'm getting a mini-break and taking Benjamin into the city for a check-up. Judah will be with his Nana, and I will at least get a long stretch of road to think and pray. Hopefully I'll also get some help from  my midwife. At this rate, I don't know how I can keep this up much longer (the breastfeeding, that is).

I don't want anyone to read this blog and think I'm trying to hide the reality of life. It's fun to post the happy things that happen day to day, but sometimes you just need to let your hair down and give the facade a break.

different struggles

Baby Benjamin is one day shy of three weeks old. Time has seemed to be going by rather quickly lately, and I credit that to the semblance of routine we have managed to identify. I am now officially taking care of the (little) boys by myself, which has been quite the adjustment! Judah requires entertainment and discipline at all times, and Benjamin requires cuddles, food, and sleep at all times. I could not have two more opposite children - at least at this stage of life.

My struggles are entirely different than they were when Judah was a baby. This time around, I know how to sneak in a shower at the most impossible times (but don't ask me to tell you how), I'm able to feed myself a satisfying amount of food, and some housework is even being accomplished from time to time. Last time around, accomplishing any one of those things felt like a victory. I took months to figure out how to be "normal" while caring for a little one. This time, even with two children to look after, I feel like I'm months ahead of myself.

What I can't seem to figure out is how to relate to Judah while I'm caring for Benjamin. The latter may be a rather content baby and a good eater, but he still needs a lot of one-to-one time. I feel rather immobilized while he's attached to me. Judah, on the other hand, is struggling to come to terms with the fact that sometimes I just can't give him attention. I feel my patience wearing thin at times.

I know that no one is expecting me to have all of this figured out right away. Being new parents - or at least the parents of a new baby - is something that almost everyone looks on with compassion. The things we were able to do before may have to be put on hold. I still haven't made it over to visit all of the staff at camp yet. The thought of packing up two boys and enduring the heat just to show my face is a little bit overwhelming, and feels rather unnecessary at this time. I love our friends very much, but right now adding that expectation to ourselves is not healthy.

 For now I will be content with working out a "schedule" for this new crazy life of ours. My boys deserve consistency and love. I can't give either if I am wearing myself thin. I can't give either without leaning heavily upon God's word and trusting in His grace upon grace.

O, hello there.

Benjamin's birth story {part two}

The morning of August 4th was beautifully sunny. On the way to the hospital I was experiencing very strong Braxton Hicks contractions every 15 minutes. They didn't hurt, but their regularity made me think that something was starting. Either way, I was scheduled to be induced that day. I had waited long enough for my body to start the process, and every extra day overdue brought greater risk to the baby inside of me. I called my doula (who had been waiting on pins and needles for a full week for this baby to come) and let her know that she could meet us at the hospital at any time.

At the hospital Kari checked me to see how I was progressing. At 2cm dilated and 50% effaced, I had barely progressed at all from the previous day. What's more, the baby was higher up in the pelvis than he had been. It was obvious that I needed a bit of a boost to get going! Kari inserted the IV line in an invisible vein on the first try (seriously, she deserves credit for that!), and I started the oxytocin drip at 9:30 AM.

To the left: Benjamin's heartbeat. To the right: my contractions!

It took very little to make my uterus start contracting. The external monitor showed that the contractions were actually H-U-G-E, but at that point they were not painful. They felt like the Braxton Hicks I had on the way into the city. Annemarie arrived at 11:00, bringing me a gloriously large green tea lemonade from Starbucks. I was on an adrenaline high at that point as the reality of what was about to take place sunk in. An hour later, however, the contractions tapered off as Ben started doing some seriously painful moves down in my pelvis - much more painful than the contractions had been. Kari suspected that he was trying to free himself from the umbilical cord. Whatever the case was, labour stalled out at about 3cm dilated. My oxytocin was upped, Kari left for lunch, and Annemarie, Joey, and myself watched Doctor Who as the contractions began to reestablish themselves. They were finally getting painful.

Enjoying my Starbucks treat before the contractions became painful.

Dealing with the pain looked much different with this labour. For starters, I was attached to a wonderful pole (which Annemarie dubbed BOB) via IV line, and I was on an external fetal monitor at all times. If I wanted to walk around, I had to push the pole and detach myself from the monitor. What's more, walking around only seemed to put the baby to sleep and slow my contractions. Kari came back from lunch and told me that I would have to labour on the bed - it was the only position that seemed to keep things going. I was sad, thinking that it would be much more painful that way (that's how it seemed when I was labouring with Judah). Thankfully, Annemarie and Joey were there to help me get through. Joey learned to rub my hand in a firm way that helped take my attention off the pain, and Annemarie offered constant encouragement and coaching. I was checked again at 3:30 and was found to be 5cm and 90% effaced - great progress!

Joey was my constant support. Well, him and BOB, of course. ;)

What really sped labour along was sitting in a rocking chair. As soon as my bum hit the pillow, the contractions felt much more intense than before. I immediately said "that's not going to work!" (or something similar), and tried to get up. Kari told me that if I stayed in the chair, things would probably pick up pace. Reluctantly, I sat back down and began to breathe my way through contractions (which were 1.5-2.5 minutes apart and had been for a while). Even with Joey's constant touch and presence by my side, I could only handle it for half an hour. I dragged myself over to the bed, positioned myself as comfortably as possible, and went into full "I think I can I think I can I think I can" mode.

By 5:00 PM I was fully dilated and feeling "pushy". Pushing (although a bit premature) was great pain relief, I found. It was so difficult to shut off my brain and ride the waves of the contractions at that point. I had Joey rubbing my hand and my arm as soon as I felt one coming on, and Annemarie was rubbing my back almost the entire time. I also had them saying positive things during each wave. Even if they felt a little silly doing it, I clung to hearing them say "You're doing great!" and "One contraction closer to baby!" - it helped so much!

Transition hit me full force, and I could feel a sense of panic rising up inside me. I knew that I wanted to run away rather than fight harder, so I asked for the Nitrous Oxide gas. It was not pleasant at first, just as it had been last time. As soon as it took effect, however, I was able to see past the pain and let my body do it's work. I could hear Kari getting things ready in the background, could hear my own deep groans as I coped with the pain, and could hear the encouraging words of my husband and my doula. When I thought to open my eyes, the calm gaze of Joey was always fixed upon me. I remember thinking things like "Ok, it's GOT to happen soon!" as I felt the pressure growing at an alarming rate down below. I knew that Kari had already called for the second midwife to come as soon as she could, but I had a feeling that she wouldn't make it in time.

At 5:25 my water broke - such a strange sensation! And yet, at the same time, it was so awesome to feel my body doing exactly what it had to to bring our baby into the world. At some point Kari made Joey take the gas away from me and told me to stop making noise to concentrate all of my energy into pushing. With one push, I felt the baby crowning. With the next, Ben's head emerged. I desperately wanted to keep pushing and just get it all over with at once, but Kari told me to wait until the next contraction hit. That was incredibly hard to do! Joey said he could see the cord around Ben's neck at that point. When the time to push came, I felt Ben's body turn in the birth canal (freeing himself from the umbilical cord), and I pushed one last time. That second push was all it took to bring my second son into the world! The moment after he came out, the second midwife arrived. He was born at 5:42 PM.

Moments after Benjamin's birth.

Benjamin was allowed to lie skin to skin for as long as we wanted. I was a blubbering, ecstatic mess, and Joey was wearing the biggest smile imaginable. Ben latched of his own accord after quite a bit of time just resting on me and had a very solid, long feeding right off the bat. It was only after these things that he was taken to be weighed, cleaned up, scored, etc. He weighed 8 pounds, 6 ounces, and measured 20 inches long. We phoned/texted all the people we could think of at the moment, and relished the bliss of being the proud parents of another beautiful boy.

Benji getting scored by Juliet, the midwife who arrived a moment too late.

The amazing woman who delivered my babies! 

Benjamin’s birth story {part one}

The final journey to meeting Benjamin really felt like it started two days before he was actually born, when he was 13 days overdue and I was certain I would never go into labour on my own. Joey and I left for the city around 1:30 PM, fully expecting to either a) go into labour that night, or b) be induced the next day. Given these expectations, we opted to spend the night in a hotel room instead of making two extra trips just to sleep in our bed another night. One of the midwives checked me at the clinic, only to find (yet again) that my cervix was stubbornly pointed to my back, and there was little to no progress from the previous check. I was terribly discouraged, and while listening to Ben’s heartbeat on the monitor and watching the little graph recording every fluctuation, Joey and I agreed that being induced the next day was the best thing to do.

The hospital we were planning on birthing in evaluates which induction requests are the most pressing on a day-by-day basis, so there was no guarantee that Joey and I would make it in. But, considering our baby would be 14 days overdue, the midwife felt sure that we would be at the top of the list. Joey and I set off thinking that this was the last possible night for me to go into labour, and our last night alone for quite some time. The hotel stay was, therefore, quite the mini-vacation.

We woke up the next morning having slept rather fitfully, but still excited by the thought that we might be seeing our Little that day – excited and perhaps a smidgen afraid (at least I was). I proudly posted on Facebook “It’s baby day!”, and we waited for a call from a midwife saying “get thee to a nunnery the hospital” while enjoying nutrition-less waffles from the hotel’s free continental breakfast.

The call didn’t come until 9:30. And it didn’t inform us of what we wanted to hear. Kari (she was the midwife who delivered Judah) had consulted with that day’s OB, and they both agreed that with the external fetal monitoring showing what it did, I would be fine to wait one more day for my induction. Two more women were in a greater need of induction that day – really, who was I to deny them that medical intervention? Even so, the disappointment was fierce. I felt like we had wasted the money on the hotel room. I felt stupid for updating Facebook so optimistically. I felt like this pregnancy would not end well.

Kari wanted to see us at the clinic to give me one more good stretch and sweep. Yes, it’s as delightful as it sounds. She was encouraged to find that I had progressed (albeit very little) from the day before. On that positive note, she counseled me to take a castor oil induction mixture. Now, before you keel over in disbelief and dread for where this story is going, let me inform you that I was very aware of the possible outcomes of such a drastic measure. I’ve heard some women say it was worse than hospital induction, and I’ve heard others absolutely swear by it. Because I was 14 days overdue and absolutely terrified of being induced, I decided to go for it.

Please note: what follows is how it turned out for me, not how it will work for everyone (or even anyone) else. Everybody’s different, and the only thing I can swear by is listening to your midwife’s/OB’s advice!

Castor oil was a complete fail for me. I think it caused only one good contraction amidst endless Braxton Hicks contractions. It wasn’t that miserable of an experience for me, but it did NOT put me into labour. Not even a little bit. As primed as I was for to have a baby, it was not the “get out of hospital induction free!” card that I’ve heard it proclaimed to be – for me. It accomplished two things: my system felt good and, ahem, empty, and it assured me that hospital induction was the way I had to go.

The next morning, instead of waiting around for our call to come to the hospital, Joey and I decided to get on the road to the city as early as possible because we would be induced that day. We’d (almost) been promised that. Sure enough, halfway to the hospital, we got our invitation and were able to surprise the receptionist by saying “we’re almost there!”

Oh yes, we were ready and excited. After all, we were going to the hospital to meet our baby!

----

to be continued…

mercies

Thank you, Jesus, for a baby that loves his bouncer seat. I mean, thank you LOTS.

wordless wednesday

my little(st) buddy

why breastfeeding makes me nervous

This post is meant to clarify some things in the previous one. The reason I am so jittery about breastfeeding lies in how things went with Judah a mere 17 months ago. Things seemed to be going really well. Well, apart from the fact that he took constant poking and prodding to actually stay awake and eat. He was a bit fussy between feedings, but I convinced myself that he was just naturally a discontent baby. He ate every 2.5-3 hours and was even sleeping through the night, more or less. Wasn't that a good sign? Wouldn't he wake up if he was hungry?

Sadly, my little baby boy was slowly being starved. We only realized it when we compared one weigh in to another five weeks before. He had lost 11 ounces over five weeks. Ideal weight gain for babies is 2 ounces a day. I was mortified to find out the truth. I took the blame completely and beat myself up about it. I was firmly told that I had to feed him every two hours no matter what. 10-12 feedings! That's what babies need!

I was immediately stressed out by this new schedule. My body had been producing milk for a 3 hour schedule for so long that I was certain Judah was not getting enough when he ate every two hours. I resorted to leaving him on the breast for a minimum of an hour at a time. It felt like there was no break between feedings. I was so extremely sore and stressed. Judah also required constant stimulation to keep eating. Sometimes he would even become frantic at the breast. I was certain he was not getting enough. Sure enough, the scale proved it.

Joey and I decided to purchase a breast pump so that we could monitor how much Judah was eating. As I had suspected, I produced a disappointingly small amount of milk. I kept up with it as often as I could, but the stress was becoming too much. One thing I know about my body is that when it is stressed, it kind of shuts down. I lose weight. I feel sick. I vomit. After finding about Judah's lack of weight gain, I knew my body would also slow it's milk production. We were forced to start supplementing, which didn't actually alleviate any of the stress. I felt so much guilt for not being able to provide for my baby. I had to force myself to stay away from breastfeeding forums where proud women boldly declared that formula was harmful and there should never be a reason for a woman to have to start supplementing. It just hurt so bad to read those words and hear "you've failed!" ringing through my mind. That guilt plus the fact that I wasn't feeding Judah as often equaled a "game over" for my milk production.

Thus the jitters. I am so scared of a repeat performance. I know I shouldn't be focusing on the past, but it's so hard when it is still so fresh in my mind. Benjamin is an entirely different baby than Judah, and his habits look nothing like his brother's. I'm pretty sure he is getting enough and there is nothing to worry about. But worry I must, it seems. I am slightly encouraged, however, because Benjamin needs very little prodding to keep eating, if any. He seems a lot more interested in the whole affair than Judah did. The feedings seem much less grueling than how I recall Judah's feedings to feel.

There is so much to praise God for. I just need to remember that in every moment (which is very hard to do in the moment, by the way) and not let my over-thinking brain get involved. My mom gave me a very wonderful prescription last night: take a vacation from your problems.* Very good advice, is it not? I think I might even try it. Now to figure out which aisle of the pharmacy to find that in...

*If you have not yet seen What About Bob?, you totally need to get your hands on it. It will make you feel much better about life. ;)

one moment at a time

I’m going to be honest. This is hard.

Learning to care for a new baby (who is entirely different than my first baby) is hard.
Breastfeeding is still painful and still hard.
Trying to deal with my new fluctuating (to the power of 100) emotions is hard.
Saying “goodbye” to my husband by 7:30 every morning and possibly not saying “hello” until 11:30 PM is hard. So very, very hard.
Waiting until I get to my breaking point to call him and beg him to come home is hard.
Thinking about having to (eventually) take care of two children is hard.
Finding time to read the Word is hard.
Wanting to read the Word is even harder.
Not getting overwhelmed is impossibly hard.

I have had so many ups and downs in these last two days. Like I said, breastfeeding is painful. I know it’s not supposed to be, but when you are bruised, cracked, and bleeding and your baby’s hunger doesn’t allow time for healing, it’s bound to hurt. It got so bad yesterday that I almost gave up on it altogether. How could I keep it up when all it brought was frustration and pain? Then I prayed about it. It was a rather silly prayer, or felt rather silly to pray. And then? Well, I happened to find a website that was full of videos of babies feeding at the breast. I then picked up my child. Latched him on perfectly. Felt no pain. Saw him eating in a way that I knew Lactation Consultants would label as “good” to “very good”. That’s what I call an “up” – and an answer to prayer!

Then this morning we decided to go to church. With my new latching skills, I was able to feed the Bundle satisfactorily and with enough time for us to get to church on time. I even had a good hair day. He slept all through the service. And, goodness, I was actually in church for once! I’ve really been missing it. Another “up” for me!

Joey’s been back at work since about 2:00. It’s now 6:30, and I’ve had a fairly good day. At least it’s good when I don’t think, “Is Ben eating enough? Is his jaundice going away?” and then start to count how many feedings he’s had in a day and realize that there’s no way I’ll be able to get him up to 12… or even 10. And, by the way, why do “they” tell you that it’s normal for babies to eat every 2-3 hours during the day and every 3-4 hours at night, but then also tell you that they should eat 10-12 times a day? There are very few combinations that can get your baby up to that golden number of 10, and even fewer that add up to 12. Also, does that little snack he just did before he dropped off to a deep sleep count as a feeding? This is why I go insane. My mind. It does not shut off. Not for a mo.

So now I’m faced with this long evening ahead. Ben is sleeping in the other room. Do I wake him at that precious two-hour mark just to make sure he gets enough food? If I let him sleep now, will I get more than a two hour stretch at night? And when do I officially start the night? Do I wait until Joey comes home at 11:30 (blah), or start it earlier and make Joey’s sleep more disturbed than it needs to be? Do I wait until I’m in tears to ask him to come home to help, or do I ask him to stay now even if it may not be a dire need of mine?

I hope you, readers, can see the obvious answer to all of this. I have to stop living in the unknown and take the moment by the horns. Moment by moment, I know I need to choose to do what most honours God. I need to trust Him for strength at every turn and realize that He is fully capable of supplying it. It’s just so. hard. I can’t trust my own strength, or even the strength of my husband to get me through. I can’t depend on Joey being home to get me through the day.

If you think of it, pray for me. Actually, pray for all new mothers that you know. Maybe they don’t find this as hard as I have, but I am still convinced that motherhood is not something we should take lightly. In one moment a woman can go from fine and dandy to completely beside herself in despair. Pray that those who are children of God will cling to Him like never before, and pray that those who don’t know Him will seek and find Him.

One day moment at a time. That is where the battles are fought. That is where I sink or swim. That is where He is strong.

one week already!

It has been one whirlwind of a week. The Bundle is now seven whole days old, and sitting back at his birth weight of 8 pounds 6 ounces. Hooray! He showed signs of jaundice very early on, which did not surprise me. I have a feeling any babies I will have will be predisposed to turning quite yellow. Thankfully, it's moving through Ben's system really quickly, unlike it did with the Cuteness. He's a good little eater, that's for sure!

Having a new baby is entirely different this time. For starters, my body handled this birth much better than my first one. I have recovered quicker than I ever thought possible. My emotions are as crazy as last time, but I feel more free to talk about them and actually admit them to my husband. It was so hard to fight the knee-jerk reaction of "I shouldn't be feeling this way, so I won't bother anyone with it" last time. Now I know how important it is to get these emotions out of my over-tired, overwhelmed, and over-stimulated brain. SO important.

Ben seems to be a very happy baby. I can already see how his personality is different from that of Judah. Oh, and today he gave me his very first awake and aware smile! At one week old! He's been smiling tons in his sleep, but this one was definitely meant for me. :D I am so blessed!

I promise to write up a birth story just as soon as I have time to wrap my head around everything that has went on in this past week. Like I said, my brain is overwhelmed and overstimulated lately.

Isn't he just the cutest thing?

benjamin

Might I have the pleasure of introducing someone to you?

Benjamin James Sawatzky

born August 4th at 5:42 PM

8 pounds, 6 ounces and 20 inches long.

Our little lamb decided he simply did not want to come out of his own accord. At 9:30 AM I began the induction drugs, and by supper time we were holding our newest little boy. 

We love him so very, very much.

41 weeks and 6 days

I cannot believe that this baby has officially made it to the month of August inside of me! Now that it's come to it, I must admit that I am happy to be having an August baby - July is my least favourite month of the year (not that I would have complained if he/she had come sooner). I'm not really feeling any contractions to speak of, except your inconsistent Braxton Hicks kind. We are going into the city today to see another midwife and make some final decisions about induction. I'm assuming I'll get booked in for tomorrow, so the Husby and I will probably opt to book a hotel room instead of making ONE. MORE. TRIP to home and back. I think we're up past 4000 k's this pregnancy. If nothing happens today or tonight, then I will get to experience that weird feeling that comes when a woman has an appointment scheduled to have her baby. Again, I can hardly believe we're already at this stage! Nutmeg might be comfy in me, but 42 weeks will have been enough of an extended stay, thank you.