Tag: pregnancy

THIRTYONEDERFUL

Posted on by Lynzie · 1 Comment

whiteboothlaugh

favorite candid shot from a lunch date with my handsome fiancé a while back

Tomorrow I will celebrate another birthday, and since I always seem to wax nostalgic about these sorts of things, I offer this here assortment of sentiments in honor of my thirtyfirst year.

Oh, 31. You were good to me, but you also kind of kicked my ass. I spent the entirety of these past twelve months not feeling exactly like myself, which is odd. And after all that’s happened, I’m not quite sure what myself is supposed to feel like. Between pregnancy and ongoing postpartum issues, I’ve gotten a little lost in the shuffle of things. But instead of freaking out about this minor identity crisis, I see it as an opportunity to grow, which is how I know I’m not just getting older, but wiser, too. Age is a blessing, thank you very much, and I think I’m starting to get the hang of this whole woman-in-her-thirties thing.

I accomplished a few personal goals that I’d been working toward for what seemed like forever, all three of which were finally ticked off my life’s to-do list on three consecutive days, just like that, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little bit more like a grown-up. Also, this coming September marks the longest tenure I’ve had as a teacher at any one school, and even though my role has shifted a bit – moving from one subject to another – I’m more comfortable and confident in my career than ever. Working in the Waldorf movement inspires every other part of my life, and I’m very lucky to be able to do what I do.

To be brutally honest, nothing has aged me more in all my years than the delivery of one Roux Huckleberry Baker and the subsequent recovery therefrom. I woke up from emergency anesthesia to a body I didn’t recognize, one I’m still learning to claim as mine. I mean, even my broken foot hasn’t fully healed! In short, thirtyone was not kind to my physical self. But if there is one thing I know about bodies, it’s that you get out of a body what you put into a body, and I’m carrying that tidbit very close to my heart as I move into this next year.

Speaking of my heart, thirtyone was a mighty good year for love. The best year. That mister of mine, he’s full of surprises, which is precisely what made his marriage proposal so special. I had absolutely no idea! Seeing a sparkly ring on my finger every day still takes my breath away, I simply could not be any more over the moon madly in love with the man I’m going to marry. He’s one of a kind, and he’s a damn good father to boot. To all three of my kids, because that’s just the kind of guy he is. So, yeah. Our engagement is clearly the highlight of what was, quite simply, a furious and fabulous year of my life.

Any year that brings me a baby is going to be special, that goes without saying. And this baby, well, he’s all kinds of special. His wellbeing has occupied a significant part of my day to day, almost at the expense of my own, and in taking stock of things, it’s clear to me the ways in which I can afford to expand as a person. And if clarity isn’t a sign of maturity, then I give up!

Seriously though, I’m starting to feel like an adult and I like it. Because let’s be honest here, I couldn’t name one song on the radio if you paid me.

ON GETTING MY GROOVE BACK

Posted on by Lynzie · 2 Comments

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There’s nothing like a good cry to get your thoughts really flowing, amiright? I, for one, have been weepy for the past week or so, which is to say that I’ve got more than a few things to get off my chest, and they’ve got to go somewhere, so here they are.

Emet turned eleven years old yesterday and I’m all kinds of nostalgic about the whole thing. For me, life pretty much started when I was eleven. That’s when things got really good, in the juicy, sink your teeth into living sort of way. To think that my baby boy is now a young man, an actual preteen if you will (if you say the word tween I will cut you), boggles my mind completely. He is easily one of the coolest people that I know, and watching him stretch into a body that is very nearly as big as my own is incredible. Soon he’ll rest his head on mine, and that gives me a pain in my heart that only a mother who’s watched her son go through the same transition can understand. I wouldn’t trade that pain for anything in the world. It’s beautiful, and I couldn’t be more proud.

I gave him deodorant for his birthday, by the way. So.

Today marks the anniversary of discovering the presence of a certain tiny guy, and hell if my body hasn’t been through the ringer. Between a difficult yet beautiful pregnancy, a broken foot, and a surgery that scarred me in all the ways, the time has more than come for me to give myself a little bit of attention. I put aside a lot of creative and delicious endeavors due to the distraction that is having a baby, but my oh my what a magical distraction. Still, there is a lot of change involved, and I might not be the quickest when it comest to adaptation.

But a year is long enough, if you ask me. My Huckleberry friend is twenty weeks old now, and doing wildly better than expected. He’s off the preemie charts, just barely in the case of his size, but he’s off them altogether and that is something. My recovery is clearly going to take more than me just waiting for it to happen, an oddly familiar theme, so doing something about it is really my only option.

Getting started is always the hardest part, why must this always be the case? I shake my fist at you, momentum! It usually takes something radical like a thirty day writing challenge or a couple dozen miles on my bicycle, but without fail, it takes some kind of daily maintenance and I have not been committed to anything on the regular in a very long time.

Except breastfeeding. Breastfeeding forever. We’re a little over one month away from solid food and the fact that my newborn baby is that close to being six months old? Crazy, I say. Just plain nuts. But breastfeeding is not for me, it’s for him. And I need to do something for myself.

My big kids, they left this morning for a little vacation with their relatives in Los Angeles, and I’ve decided to dedicate this time to carving out a few new habits and hobbies for myself. My beautiful friend Kate wrote this thoughtful essay about refining her morning routine which really resonated with the struggle I have been experiencing personally. I have no routine to speak of at present, and I think that’s partly why I can’t seem to get anything done. I haven’t found my rhythm yet.

The plan is simple, really. To get up, get out, and get moving, is the basic idea. Little walks around my beloved neighborhood, a gentle swim at our local pool, a few trips up and down my favorite secret public staircase that’s right across the street from my house, these aren’t exactly difficult things to do. Neither is finishing the few essays I have still lingering in my drafts folder, or even preparing and photographing a couple of the new recipes that I’ve developed recently. And yet, I can’t seem to accomplish any of it. So for the next five days, while my big kids are away, I’m committed to doing at least one thing for myself every single day.

Like writing this here manifesto. I do declare this to be the year of loving myself, of not letting life get in my way. Because when it comes right down to it, I spend an awful lot of time taking care of others, and methinks I’d do a much better job of it all if I actually spent a little time taking care of myself. Furthermore, I want to set a good example for my children, for them to see the importance of personal practice, to always feel that they are worth the effort, and, above all, to never forget that they are the guardians of their own well being.

HELLO, JUNE

Posted on by Lynzie · 1 Comment

hopelisacongdon

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I have no fewer than six essays in various stages of completion cluttering my drafts folder, in case you were wondering. I haven’t had a lot of time to finish things lately, and not just silly things like blog posts. My to-do list is long, and although I’m getting through it much more slowly than I’d like, I have managed to do a pretty commendable job of fattening up a certain tiny guy. I thought about it the other day, and I literally spend between 4-6 hours a day nursing him, which doesn’t exactly leave time for much else, although I did manage to tackle all the laundry, a personal victory.

June really crept up on me, which is fine by me seeing as it’s one of my favorites. I love me a good summer solstice. Also, there are just three school days left before summer vacation officially begins, and thank goodness because I’m pretty sure we’re all already on break. I’m really really looking forward to lots of little adventures with all three of my kiddos — I plan on taking full advantage of the fact that we live in San Diego, one of the loveliest cities on planet Earth, which is finally starting to feel like home.

I started this blog back up last year around this time, well before I knew I was pregnant, when I was just starting to feel like myself again after a couple of really turbulent years, including that one in Oregon that really unsettled me to the core. One year later, and I’ve got a new baby, we live in a lovely new-to-us home, and we’re more settled as a family than we’ve ever been, Jesse included. In other words, a lot has happened over the last twelve months, and somehow I’ve managed to chronicle bits and pieces of it here. And only one recipe! Shame on me, is all I have to say about that, but the rest of it is pretty spot on and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m rather proud of what I’ve published.

This next year is sure to bring lots more exciting things to write about, including wedding shenanigans. I apologize in advance for the many posts to come about all things related to our totally rad future nuptials, but there are just too many thoughts and they have to go somewhere! I also hope to incorporate more recipes and even a few craft projects into the rotation because, let’s face it, those things are helpful! I’ve learned too many things from the internet not to give back at least a little.

Thank you for reading this silly ol’ blog of mine. I really do pour my heart into the things I write, and having you along for the journey is nice company. Your comments and messages are so kind and thoughtful, I appreciate each and every one and feel pretty lucky to have such a gracious audience.

Seriously, though. My precious firstborn is one month away from turning eleven years old. His tenth birthday was a day I’ll never forget, as it was the very last day of my life as a mother of two. Discovering that a new baby would be joining our family the following day, and all that has happened since, has been wild and wonderful. I can’t even begin to imagine what lies in store for us this coming year. I’m sure there will be plenty of good stories to tell.

EIGHT WEEKS

Posted on by Lynzie · 5 Comments

helloroux

holding my huckleberry for the first time, 36 hours after he was born

The thing I can’t wrap my head around is that some women actually choose to have their babies delivered by C-section. For me, that was never even a consideration. I skipped over all the chapters – even in Spiritual Midwifery there are chapters – pertaining to hospital deliveries, and almost especially I did not read about surgical deliveries and or recovery therefrom. Why would I? I was giving birth at home.

Up until a few hours before my baby was born, I had been exclusively cared for by midwives during the course of my pregnancy, with the exception of one initial prenatal visit with my beloved OB in Los Angeles. And this being my first non-obstetrical pregnancy and therefore my first experience as a patient of midwifery, I had little reference by way of either expectation or practice. So I went with it, and since everything seemed fine, I didn’t ask too many questions.

To be honest, I really loved, and still do, the idea of compassionate birthing. Being a person of strong physical constitution, and also one that vehemently believes in the natural abilities of the body, it was very easy for me to accept the idea that biology know best, especially in the case of mothers growing babies. Plus, I’d already had two relatively healthy pregnancies and did not expect for this one to be any different.

In many ways, this pregnancy was similar to my others in that I was blindingly nauseated for months on end. But it stood out to me mostly because I was so aware of, and so grateful for, being pregnant. In spite of how awful I felt all of the time, I loved every second of carrying a little baby in my belly. And I most certainly was not ready for it to be over, and so suddenly.

It’s been eight weeks since my tiny guy was born the only way he was able to be, through emergency surgery. I walked into a hospital with a question, and did not leave until five days later, after what was easily the most emotionally intense experience of my entire life. I had absolutely no intention of giving birth within the walls of a hospital, and yet without a hospital and a highly skilled team of doctors and nurses, my baby would not be alive. In a matter of minutes, I faced one of my biggest fears without even the slightest bit of advanced preparation. And little by little, I’m getting through it.

At my six week check-up, my doctor (I sort of adopted the physician that helped me through my labor, more on that later) informed me of a condition I developed during pregnancy that is the primary cause of stillbirths. There are a variety of reasons as to why this particular condition can arise, including the baby compressing his own umbilical cord for a period of time, and both the baby and I will have tests over the next several months to rule out any serious complications.

The good news is that, for the most part, we are both doing really well. That baby of mine is fattening up rather nicely, and all thanks to my boobs, which is quite an accomplishment when it comes to premature infants. He’s starting to coo, and I’ve spotted a few smiles peeking around the corners of his sweet little mouth.

We are both, however, still rather sensitive. The baby, well. The baby wants to be held. Which makes perfect sense given the shocking and most traumatic way in which he entered the world, but which also means I don’t get much else done other than nursing and cuddling a baby. Also, sleep. We have not yet established our rhythm, meaning I’m pretty sure we’re both totally exhausted.

As for me? I can’t touch my scar without crying, and from a conflicted place of deep sadness and profound gratitude. It is not a pretty wound; it very clearly illustrates the urgency of the situation. I experience consistent, throbbing pain throughout my lower abdomen, which I’m told can last for an entire year. I’ve yet to wear anything with a waistband. And I’m constantly leaking breastmilk.

In reality, I still haven’t completely processed what happened the night I delivered a baby over a month early, while strapped to a gurney, completely knocked out from general anesthesia, and in front of at least a dozen people I had never met. I’m not sure I ever will. The truth is, I’ve learned a lot more about myself from this than I would have from a home birth, including my ability to handle devastation with grace. I discovered strength I didn’t even think I had, and I felt loved and cared for completely. As the days pass, I still feel those things. But they’re joined with feelings of grief as I mourn the loss of the birth I wanted.

Ultimately, I did not get pregnant so that I could have a home birth. I got pregnant so that I could have a healthy baby, and that is exactly what I have. An extremely cute one, to boot. And as much as I’ve yet to recover from the circumstances of his birth, I’d do it all again this moment just to bring him into the world. Because truly, he is a miracle.

PREGNANCY, INTERRUPTED

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There is a very fine line between life and death, one that isn’t always easy to recognize. What is easy, though, is taking for granted the gift of intuition. On February 16, I trusted my instincts over my reasoning and have been permanently altered as a person – and as a parent – as a result.

I can’t say exactly how I knew, only that I did.

The past two weeks have been incredibly intense, and I’m only barely beginning to be able to wrap my mind around the magnitude of it all. It is my hope that as I begin to distill this experience into words, that I will be able to have a better understanding of what I went through, and why.

When February began, I had a sense that it was going to be a busy month, but for very different reasons than what it turned out to be. And here we are, the first day of March, and it seems so surreal that I don’t still have a baby in my belly or a home birth to look forward to. Instead, I have a tiny guy to nuzzle and a sparkly ring on my finger, two of the greatest gifts this life has ever given me.

What surprises me the most about this whole thing is that I’m not sad, really, only nostalgic. Everything happened so suddenly, and I wasn’t exactly prepared. Thankfully, with the love and support of my precious family and dearest friends, I have managed to survive what is easily the most tragic and triumphant time of my life.

I have no inclination as to what this month shall bring, but I’m thinking it’s going to be a good one. And if I’ve learned anything at all from all of this, it’s that my gut feelings are usually spot on.

In that case, I say hello to you, March! Show me what you got.

5

Posted on by Lynzie · 1 Comment

35weeks

Maternity Leave, how I love you so!

After getting the kids off to school this morning, I climbed back into bed and stayed there until almost 11 AM. That is what I’m talking about! Also, I haven’t stopped eating since I last saw my midwives, and I’m fairly certain the baby and I have both made fighting weight. I’ve not quite reached maximum discomfort yet, though, so I know there’s still room to grow. Which of course is crazy, because look at that enormous belly!

The rest of this week will be spent completing a long list of home projects, things like hanging curtains and rearranging our cabinet space, as well as the first few loads of tiny clothes and diapers. I will be cloth diapering this baby, a first for me, and am pretty excited about these soft little newborn nappies that I’ve started to collect.

These are the days. Being relieved of my responsibilities at school allows me to fully immerse myself in my family during this precious time, and I’m so grateful to be able to have these last few weeks together as we continue to prepare our home and our hearts for the highly anticipated arrival of our new little person.

I still can’t believe that we’re having a baby next month!

6

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Monday morning, I saw Dr. Fan, a wise and wonderful healer who has been graciously tending to my broken foot. A former surgeon, and a master of Chinese medicine, he finally said to me that in order for my foot to heal more quickly, I need to stay off of it completely. I took the rest of the day and spent it in bed and you know what? By that night, the swelling near my injury decreased for the first time in nearly four weeks.

And then I went to school the next day.

By the time I got home that evening, my foot was back to its swollen state, and I was in pain. I was still determined to finish my last week and a half, though.

That is, until I saw my midwives yesterday. Turns out, my belly measures four weeks smaller than it should, which is not terribly concerning, because I’ve measured small during my whole pregnancy. However, I haven’t grown hardly at all since my last visit two weeks ago, and my weight gain is not significant, having put on a mere three pounds since November. They want me off of my feet until they see me again, meaning that my leave is starting a full week earlier than expected.

In other words, today is my last day of work. We’ve reached the home stretch. I keep saying how quickly this pregnancy has gone because it’s true! I can’t believe we’re already here: Maternity Leave.

We’ve managed to collect almost all of the essentials needed for birth and baby, including two very important bottles of Birth Day Champagne. One of my best friends in the whole world is staying with us for the weekend, and I’ve got nine hours left to spend with my sweet students and colleagues before I turn my focus entirely upon my family.

The next six weeks are gonna be so good.

7

Posted on by Lynzie · Leave a comment

spiritualmidwifery

We built the baby’s cradle tonight. We are getting ready, folks!

I had a follow up appointment for my foot and the good news is that I’m healing, but not very quickly, because my body is growing things other than my bones. So relax, says the good doctor. And stay off my feet, which is pretty much the hardest thing for me to do. Hello, swollen ankles.

Things have come together rather quickly over the last week, meaning that we went from not having anything for the baby to having a place for our tiny one to sleep. And a car seat! There are baby socks, and they are so small. I look at Emet’s sock, which happens to be the same size at Babe’s, and it’s just crazy how fast it all goes. Really.

There is still quite a lot left to do before this baby arrives, and not that much pregnancy left to do it. This darn foot of mine is not helping, but it is forcing me to go slower, which in itself is a good thing? At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

I’ve been waiting for months to read the first book Ina May Gaskin ever wrote, intentionally saving it for this last stretch before the home birth….

I can’t believe we’re less than 50 days away from having a baby right here in our house.

A MOST SPECIAL BIRTHDAY

Posted on by Lynzie · 1 Comment

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courtesy of my favorite instagram account

Today, we celebrated 35 years of Mister Babe Elliott Baker, the most lovely human of all.

Actually, the celebration started Friday, with a leisurely date night. Just the two of us, we enjoyed an incredible meal, found this great jacket for the birthday boy, and caught a very late showing of Wolf of Wall Street. Even though I slept for more than two of the three hour film, it was our first trip to the movie theatre since 2012 and I loved every second of it. Plus, I’d already seen it (I’d like the thank the Academy for that one) so a nap on the lap of my love was pretty much perfection.

In spite of yesterday’s royal SNAFU, we managed to get ourselves good and ready to have this baby by finally ordering all the supplies for the home birth. The nesting hormones have kicked in at full throttle, and I’d have reorganized my entire house if it weren’t for this foot of mine. Why oh why did I have to break my foot? I’m still searching for the lesson in this one, though I have my theories.

We had intended to go to the museum today, but learned last minute that it is closed this week for installation! Instead, we spent the day having spontaneous adventures that included donuts for brunch, and you just can’t go wrong when your day starts with donuts, am I right? The kids and I made sure the guest of honor felt positively spoiled, and I mean, I couldn’t have had a better time if it were my own birthday. Which is convenient, seeing as today is my half-birthday.

Isn’t that cute?

8

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32weeks

image from mister baker’s instagram

At least once a day, I find myself saying out loud, “this is such a good time in my life.” And it’s true. I can’t remember ever being as happy as I am at this moment, and that’s with a broken foot. I’m really lucky and I know it, is what I’m saying. And it feels pretty damn good.

I’ll see my midwives on Thursday for an official report, but as far as I can tell, baby and I are doing just fine. I’ve been taking spirulina tablets, little green pellets that smell like fish tank, and my energy has benefitted significantly as a result. Which is good, because wow, I am busy.

And hungry! The kind of hungry that had me get out of bed at midnight and make waffles. Also, pickles. So many pickles.

The nesting has begun, and not a moment too soon. We’re less than two calendar months away from our due date, and 4 weeks from the day that our midwives would like us to be prepared for both the birth and the baby. So, yeah. Busy!

With everything that is happening, it’s easy for time to just disappear. I am trying to slow down and savor these last few moments of carrying this baby, because this pregnancy has been one of the most beautiful experiences and there is a part of me that isn’t quite ready for it to end.