Sunday, January 25, 2015

It's My Privilege

I tried to find pictures where all three boys are doing the same pose. Rae is on top, Joe on the left, Caleb on the right. 








Three little boys. 

A little while after Rae was born, I got my first "memento mori", my first gray hair. Fitting, considering that he is my hundred-mile-an-hour child. A little while after Joe was born, I was diagnosed with clinical depression and post traumatic stress. I was a hot mess. 

Moral of the story: Having babies = lots of stress. 

Yet, when I found out that I was expecting an unexpected baby, I felt peace. And when I first held Caleb, I felt healed of the trauma around Joe's birth. I also felt healed of my new mom anxiety with Rae---to quote Rae, "I got this." Fewer things make me nervous. 

Here's what I've learned: as much as parenting is stressful and at times wholly painful, it is my privilege. I get the opportunity to participate. And participating is what brings the blessings. It's working in the vineyard that is a privilege. It's being a mother and doing the work of motherhood that's a privilege.

One of my favorite lessons from Church History comes from Doctrine and Covenants Section 81, in the heading. In 1832, Jesse Gause was called to the the first counselor to Joseph Smith. He "failed to continue in a manner consistent with this appointment" and Frederick G. Williams was called to replace him. In the original revelation which outlines the blessings and responsibilities of Jesse's calling, you can see Jesse Gause's name crossed out and Frederick G. William's name written over it. 

In other words, Jesse was replaced, and the exact same blessings and responsibilities of his call were given to another. The kingdom of God rolls on, whether you are willing to participate or not. It is your privilege to participate. It is your privilege to receive those blessings and responsibilities. Somebody else could do it.  

The same thing is true for my children. They are my blessing and responsibility, just like being a first counselor was Jesse's blessing and responsibility. But somebody else could do it. Frederick G. Williams fulfilled that calling, somebody else could be Rae, Joe, and Caleb's mother. It's a calling, and I can be replaced. 

Does that sound harsh? 

It's not. 

The Church rolled on without Jesse Gause; my children would roll on without me, but it is my privilege to raise them. I get the opportunity to participate in raising them. And as long as I "continue in a manner consistent with this appointment" I get the responsibility and the blessings. 

I still feel like a hot mess. 
But I also feel hope---that I can change for the better. 
And that brings peace. 

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Happy New Year!


Okay, okay.

New Year's day was a little while ago. I started this New Year off right: with a good case of the flu--four days of fever and chills. Now, I'm just easily tired and have a smoker's cough, bleh.

Last New Year's, I was in Urgent Care with Rae because he had dislocated his elbow. This---someone having a pressing health issue--- is shaping up to be a great non-tradition. I vote we do something else for 2016, ...like sparklers and eggnog.

Anyway, all that excitement means I feel behind on making New Year's resolutions. Here are my goals for 2015:

  • 100% Visiting teaching, and I am going to let myself feel successful if I write an email, send a card or make a phone call. Maybe even if I just fb my sisters. 
  • Read the BOM by the end of the year. I only got to Helaman last year, but I'm going to start and finish it this year, by golly. 
  • Work through my yoga book. 
  • Design and memorize a pilates routine. 
  • Start lifting weights again. 
  • Incorporate more "traditional foods" into our menus.
  • Take the boys outside daily (where possible). 
  • My goal last year was to answer my phone. I feel like I did better. My goal this year is to keep my voice mail box clear-er. It was full for about 8/12 months last year.
  • Learn how to use a dehydrator. 
  • Practice meditation. 
  • Teach Raeford to read. 
  • Help Joe learn to eat. 
  • Blog weekly. I do find great joy in blogging, … I just need to make time to do it! 
  • Read classic literature. 
  • Reach out and connect with others better. 
  • Attend the temple monthly. 
  • Plan and take family vacations. Maybe try camping… maybe. 
  • Read to the boys for a total of half an hour each day. 
  • Practice listening without judging. 
  • Practice patience with myself and others. 
  • Try to apply "Come along, Come along" philosophy to my parenting. I want spend my efforts promoting good behavior. I also want to instill in my kids that they are good, that mistakes are temporary, and we can be better than we are now.
  • Feel proud of the efforts I make in achieving my goals! 

These goals are breaking the rules of good goal setting, like be specific or have a deadline. That doesn't matter so much to me this year. Goals for me this year are a vision of where I want to go, not so much what it looks like as I'm getting there.



"Come on, Mom! Let's take a picture." Rae then pulls up Photo Booth on my Mac and shows me how to use the webcam to take a picture of the two of us. And adds effects.
I love this boy. 

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Caleb's birth


Veni. Vidi. Vici.


That's how I feel about Caleb's birth. I came. I saw. I conquered.

About 5:20am, I wake up with contractions that cause me to get up and dance. They are strong and close together, which scares me. You don't sprint at Mile One of the marathon! A few contractions like this and I wake up Mr. Graff. (I say "labor" and he bolts out of bed.) A bit before 6am, I call my midwife.

About thirty minutes later, she and the birth assistant arrive. I get into the bath tub and the space between my contractions spread to 5-8 minutes. Rae wakes up and Mr. Graff starts making phone calls to take each boy to their separate sitter. Rae comes in and and kisses me goodbye. Off he goes. Joe wakes up a little later, and he is fed, changed, and taken in another direction.

Labor steadily progresses when I feel something bulging out of me, so I grab a mirror. The midwife helps me to see the bluish translucent look of the amniotic sac. "It's the fore-waters. It can bulge out ahead of the baby." I feel a sense of awe -- what amazing work birth is!   

A few minutes later, my water breaks, and we stand around looking at the fluid; I feel curious about everything. I'm in labor and actually curious about what is going on, instead of just enduring it. Labor is nerve-wrecking because it's unpredictable. There are few sign-posts that say when things are happening, but instead of feeling nervous or scared or even tired, I am interested in the process. 

We put on Seven Brides for Seven Brothers and prepare for the long haul. The midwife and birth assistant run across the street to buy some food. Contractions are steady but less intense. Every contraction releases another gush of fluid and eventually we have to change out the water-proofing. 

The midwives come back and check on the baby. I have several intense contractions, during which I yell out, "Woohoo, YEE HAW!" (mimicking Raeford when he's excited). I move onto my hands and knees and remind myself that I can do this. This is hard, this is very hard. At this point, I still think I have hours of labor left, not minutes. 

I get up and move to the bathroom to try to pee. I can't. As I stand up to go back to my bedroom, I start pushing, not really believing that it was time yet, just feeling the need to push. But once I start pushing, I keep going! Did I really already transition? Where was the puking and the uncontrollable shaking and the extreme exhaustion? I can't believe that I am already pushing---and that the baby is coming out. Mr. Graff holds me as I lean over the bathtub.  The midwife tells me to breathe into the contraction and focus my energy into pushing instead of vocalizing. It's good that my neighbors are at work; I'm loud.

The baby crowns and I reach around to feel his head. The skin of his scalp is wrinkly and I feel a lot of hair. As I keep pushing, his head and one shoulder come out together so even though he's big, he doesn't get stuck. Instead of falling out in one big push (like Rae), I push a couple of times to get his sturdy, little body out. "It's a boy!" Mr. Graff says after Caleb plops out. I don't even care. I'm just grateful that he's out and breathing and healthy. I'm beaming. I've done this hard thing again. 

Caleb's little body is white and his hands and feet are purple. I notice, but it does not concern me. His umbilical cord connects him to me and I can feel the blood flowing from the placenta into him. He breathes gently and quietly. Eventually he cries and pinks up nicely. 

I walk back to my bedroom and lay down with Caleb. I cough to push out the placenta. The placenta's huge and my tender belly feels much better without it. The midwife and her assistant check me (almost no tearing), clean up the room, do laundry, go through newborn instructions, do a newborn exam of Caleb, and tuck me, Mr. Graff, and Caleb into bed before they leave. 

Overall, 6.5 hours of labor, 5 minutes of pushing, and a 10 lbs. 4 oz., 21" baby boy born at 11:50 am. 

I'm a mom again.

Caleb's birth has been healing for me. Caleb reminds me that life is good and goes on. I can do hard things. One step at a time.



Maple Syrup Festival

  We went to the Maple Syrup Festival @Cunningham Falls State Park today. The weather was *gorgeous* and the crowds not horrifying.  We star...