hattie at 6 weeks.

I've been waiting for a smile! And yesterday I got smiles all day long! Since I'm motivated by affirmation, I am feeling greatly encouraged!

I'd sum up this baby by simply saying: Hattie is a delight. She is pretty calm on the whole, which is very nice of her. And loves to cuddle. When I go to burp her, she tucks her legs in like a little ball and rests her head on my shoulder in the sweetest snuggle. There are lots of times in the middle of the night when we fall asleep like this in the glider rocker. I have a hard time putting her back in her crib when she is so, so snuggly. In the early morning I'll bring her into our bed and lay her on my chest. And she will inch her way up so that her head is tucked right under my chin. She is a sweetheart and I love her to pieces.

Her sleeping has been remarkable being a newborn and all. The big exception would be this past weekend when I had chocolate in some cookies I made, and felt the consequences. She was gassy each  night, sleeping for maybe 45 minute stretches... if I was lucky. We had two nights of this and I was reminded of what true delirium feelings like. What it's like to literally not be able to see straight because I was so tired. And the power of a strong cup of coffee, a brisk walk outdoors (I took three on Sunday) and a fast shower to wake back up.

She sucks on her pacifier like Maggie Simpson sucked on hers. Except that Harriet has trouble keeping hers in her mouth. She sucks in and out with such vigor that it often falls out... which is very frustrating for her. So I will hold the pacifier in her mouth and when I do this, she wraps her fingers around my pinky and pointer fingers. Oh I love that so much.

This third baby is a joy. I feel way more seasoned than with the first. And way more settled than with the second. This time around I am just taking in the snuggles, saying no to a lot of outings and opportunities, and feeling quite content about our every day.

We named you well, little Hattie. You are a complete joy.

family book club

My favorite blogs to read are the ones that inspire me to action. I like the DIY blogs where they post projects that I can actually do myself, or art blogs that aren't just pretty to look at but motivate me to get out my own art supplies. And my very favorite are the mothering blogs that make me want to work hard at this most important job. The ones where I think, "I want to do that in my house too."

Some blogs inspire. Some blogs make me feel like I'll never catch up.

My hope is that this is a blog that inspires. And it's why I'm sharing this next idea. Because when I find something that works in our routine I want to shout it from the mountaintops.

Family Book Club began a few weeks ago when the weather got a bit chilly. We got rid of our television last April which didn't really impact us because the weather was turning nice and we started spending our life outdoors again. The impact of not having a tv didn't really hit until that second cold night when Rory looked at me and said, "so what's the plan with the kids from after dinner to bedtime? because we've got to do something with them." And it was true. When we're home all day the final hour stretch can really drag on. Most tricks and toys have been used.

We talked about this idea, and after three weeks of finessing, I think we've got it. And I want to share how it works with you:

1. The name. I think it's so important to name a shared activity. This is true for Quiet Play Time and Family Movie Night. The kids know exactly what those names mean and what to expect during those times. The same is true with this. They know the drill now when we say it's Family Book Club.

2. We have a bin of books that are out all the time (you can see those to the left of the couch). But for Family Book Club we have a tupperware (with a lid!) full of library books that are only to be read during this time. This is key! These are different books from the same old same old. They are books they chose at the library themselves (They each pick 5 books and I pick 5 books...I try to find fun picture books). And best of all, it keeps all of our library books in one place! Praisealuja!

3. At the beginning of Family Book Club Ivar and Elsie choose one book from the bin that we will read aloud. So I read those two books, and then they have to "read" on their own. Which means they look at the pictures and make up their own words. It is adorable to watch. Ivar can stick with it. Elsie sometimes needs to find another quiet activity towards the end. Totally depends on the night.

4. Rory and I have to read too. So far we've been the weakest link. Usually one of us sits there and reads our book, but the actual problem is that suddenly the kids are totally occupied and this frees us to do something else. Which is absolutely not the point, but people, our kids our occupied! And of course, Harriet sometimes isn't into Family Book Club, which can change things up a bit too.

5. And we don't have a set time limit. Usually it goes until bedtime, usually about 20-30 minutes. But it depends on how it's going. I doubt we'll ever set a timer. I don't want it to ever feel like drudgery.

Two weeks in, and it is nothing but awesome. It is a quiet way to wind down the day. It is sweet to all be in the same room for a chunk of time. And it feels right. We all know it's good for kids to see their parents reading...now it's built into our day. So give it a whirl. I hope it works for you too!

overheard

Elsie had her blanket on her head while wearing her princess dress. I heard her say to Ivar, "I'm Maddie, because I am getting married. See my val? (veil) So I'm Maddie." Ivar said, "Oh, okay! Then I'll be Lisa!" (Maddie's mom. Ha!)

Ivar told me, "We are good pirates and we are fighting against the Philistines! And this time they don't just have one giant, they have nine! But we're going to win!"

Ivar said, "Elsie! You're just telling old tales!"

Frequently Elsie will invite me and Hattie to play with her, "We can play together! You be the mama, Hattie can be the baby and I'll be the little girl!"

We have been playing Christmastime this week, coloring wrapping paper to wrap things found around the house, making ornaments, hanging handmade decorations (basically, a lot of coloring.) I announced bedtime would be in 10 minutes and an exhausted Ivar threw himself on the floor crying, "I just have too many ornaments to make and presents to wrap! I'll never get it all done!"

Rory came and told me he saw the kids playing pretend on the couch and heard Elsie sigh, "We're almost there on a beautiful country drive."

Ivar said to me while sobbing, "I don't like how I'm acting either, but I just don't know how to stop!"

Harriet's birth story, part 4: a baby is born!

Alrighty. I think I have made the retelling of this story on my blog longer than the actual birth itself. Which is impressive. But I'll try to wrap it up, because we're getting close! (If you want to catch up, here is Part One, Part Two and Part Three)

When we left our heroine in part three, she was immobilized from the waist down and loving it. It was finally time to rest and let the contractions get her dilated to a 10. Everyone thought that would happen quickly, but we all know that was a dumb thing to think. That night she spent time looking up at her IV tree, a collection of five bags dripping into her body: pitocin, the epidural, the penicillin and two kinds of blood pressure meds because her numbers were so low. It was a funny sight to stare at because of her hopes to do this birth thing au-naturale!

She tried to sleep, but kept waking up when the blood pressure monitor would inflate on her arm, leaving her to wonder if her arm would be amputated. The thing blew up so tightly and often had to try multiple times in a row because it couldn't get a good read. So then she lay there wondering if someone was working on a less constricting way to monitor a persons blood pressure. Surely she didn't deserve to be woken up ever 20 minutes.

Each hour a team of nurses came to turn her body. Often this resulted in a round of throwing up. And at one groggy point, she remembers her sweet husband looking at her with tears in his eyes saying he hated seeing her like this and felt so helpless. That's still a sweet memory for her.

After 11 hours of this they checked her and said she looked close enough. She violently dry heaved a few more times and the baby crowned. The nurses were so pleased! They said many babies are pushed out when the mama throws up. They acted quickly, disbanding the bed, getting her legs into position, calling in the doctors and another nurse. They asked how long she pushed for her last baby and her husband commented, "not long at all..two pushes, maybe." Everyone was ready for this baby to fly out! 

**Um, I'm going to stop writing in 3rd person. I'm not even sure why I started out that way, but this is getting complicated...and since I'm here, writing this tale, I'm going to switch to 1st person. Sound good? Thanks.

But 45 minutes later, little progress had been made. The doctor was positioned at the base of the bed and kept yawning uncontrollably. I kept looking at the nurses and asking if I was pushing in the right place and they sort of half smiled. It was very discouraging. I was so exhausted and had nothing to give. And I felt so desperate. I was praying in my head and they were angry prayers, praying the scriptures. I remember saying, "You began this good work in me, now complete it! You said when I am weak, you are strong. Now be strong. You said I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. I cannot do this alone. You have to strengthen me." The kids had just brought home a book about angels from their library and the artist drew them as little fairy-like hot pink, teal and periwinkle people with wings. I remember thinking about those little angels and telling God, "you have to send an angel to tell this baby how to come out. It doesn't know what to do. This baby needs help. Please tell it how to come out." 

We passed an hour of pushing with hardly any progress. And then the nurses brought out the handle holds on the side of the bed, and a mirror so I could see where I was pushing. And something happened then. I focused on the mirror and pulled myself up with those handle holds and after a few rounds of contractions the baby finally came, in the proper position. Everyone was so surprised. Then they told me it was a girl. And I felt joy overflowing. My baby was here.

They put her on my chest for a few seconds only, suctioned her mouth a bit, and then took her to the other doctor who was called in to be sure the baby would be okay. They were concerned that she may have ingested meconium. Rory was with her and the doctor continued to work with me. I was so glad she was here. I was chatty with my doctor and pretty unaware of all that was happening on the other side of the room. I heard the nurse get on the phone and order a few things "stat." And I could see the seriousness grow on the faces of the nurses working with Hattie. I remember telling Rory, "Talk to her, daddy. Tell her who you are. Let her hear your voice." I was never fearful. Somehow I was protected from that. But Rory was. He was right there and heard the nurses and doctors talking. He could see her motionless body, completely still. I couldn't.

The x-ray team arrived and then the lab team to take blood samples. At one point I counted 11 people moving about in our room. It was about 7:15 and the whole staff changes at 7. So nurses were saying goodbye, while others were introducing themselves. My delivery doctor stayed around, but the new doctor was now on the clock and she came in fully caffeinated and took over. I remember thinking she was really loud for how exhausted we all were. She took everything in and then turned to me to tell me, "it is likely Harriet will need to go to another hospital to receive the best care." She explained the helicopter team that would come to transport her and I silently wept. I had finally had my baby. I had worked so hard. And I didn't want to be left behind at the hospital when my baby and my husband went to another city.

In the end, this doctor was amazing and exactly what we all needed in that moment. She came in with sound mind and heroically made some hard decisions early in the morning. She was sharp and later I was grateful. In the moment I didn't like her because I didn't like what she was telling me.

Everyone was talking of the fluid in Harriet's lungs, and the probable pneumonia that was visible on the x-ray. Rory went out into the hall to call our mom's and our pastor, telling them that we had a baby girl and to pray. And to get others to pray, too. And I asked him to call my friend Ali, asking her to come and stay with me while he drove to Minneapolis to be with Harriet.

The new doctor was getting Harriet ready for the helicopter ride when she said, "let's bring her to her mom." I'm still not totally sure, but I think she was just being kind letting me hold my daughter for a moment before we were separated.

But something miraculous happened when they put her in my arms. Harriet's breathing started growing stronger. And stronger. I talked to her and told her I was here mama. That I had carried her for ten months and I was ready to take good care of her. I told her I loved her and would always love her. The doctor said, "let's see if she'll nurse." And in moments we had a strong latch and Harriet was not only breathing on her own, but sucking. She nursed on both sides. In those ten minutes we think we had over 40 people praying for our little baby girl, and in those minutes, life came back into our daughter. You can see it in the picture below.

The NICU helicopter transfer team arrived, ready to whisk her away.

The NICU team was a wonder to me. They were so fast and direct and impressive. They ran a series of tests and in the end announced, "her lungs are clear. her breathing is strong. we think it's best for her to stay with her mom" And they packed up their things and flew away, leaving Harriet in my arms. No one could account for her miraculous recovery. Everyone was waiting for her to falter after she had been fed, but she never did. She didn't cough anything up. She never cried. And yet her lungs were clear of all fluid. It was inexplicable.

And I had my baby in my arms.

Finally things calmed down. The nurse took her foot prints. Ali took lots of pictures and then my sister and Rory's folks arrived, and we moved to the recovery room where my parents and our kids met us. It was a time of joyful introductions.

And then everyone left and Rory and I were alone with our little Harriet Joy for the very first time. It was quiet in the room, we had our baby in our arms and then we looked at each other and cried. A big, big cry. All the fear we felt when they told us she couldn't breath on her own, the exhaustion of a three day labor, the questioning if we were hearing God's voice at all, the disappointment of not having a home birth, the frustration that the baby would not get into position...it all made sense. We needed to be at the hospital. We needed God to write this story. We cried with gratitude, with relief, with thanksgiving and with love overflowing for the little life that had been trying her best the whole time.

We recounted all that happened after she was born, remembering the details, asking each other what the other heard and saw. We cried and held our daughter close. Knowing we were holding a miracle.

Harriet's birth story, part 3: baby spinning

Alrighty! Part One got us to the point where my water broke. Part Two got us to the point where we headed to the hospital. Part Three is all about the six most athletic hours of my life. I'm smiling in the picture above because I have no idea what is ahead. And because I had just ordered a bowl of oatmeal off the hospital menu, and I loved ordering off that fancy menu.

We got to the hospital and I felt so welcome there. I didn't know if I would...we were a home birth that was now showing up without any doctor that had me on their charts. But the administrator who ran the birthing wing was incredibly warm and kind to me. And the nurse we had actually had birthed two of her four babies at home, so there was no stigma with her either. In fact, she was really knowledgeable in all sorts of baby spinning techniques, as we tried to get this baby to get into position to come into the world. I had read a bit about these maneuvers so I sort of knew what was coming.

They checked me and I was dilated to a three. They hooked up the pitocin and before we started the baby spinning I took the traditional walk down the hospital hallways.

I'd caption that picture above, "get back into life! With depends!" Because I was still wearing them... And then I'd caption the picture below, "I'm a good sport!" This smile was before the pitocin really kicked in. Also, it's strange to remember that between contractions life is bearable. The pain is not constant. Which is nice of it. I seem to forget this fact (that there is relief between contractions) from baby to baby.

But then the contractions come. And they do hurt. Oh land, they hurt so bad. My favorite birthing position was in the glider rocker, singing quietly little falsetto melodies to the music we were listening to. We were playing the new Sara Groves album (Floodplain) and the new Andrew Peterson album (The Burning Edge of Dawn). Both of which are incredible. And since they were brand new to us, I was listening to the words with great concentration. My little falsetto melodies went along with the songs and somehow the singing and the rocking lessened the pain for me.

Along with the contractions hurting like craaaazy was the penicillin IV that I had in case of strep. I hadn't been tested for strep and because we didn't know if I was positive they administered the penicillin as a precaution. And man that IV killed going into my arm. It burned on the way in and my arm felt like it might explode.

My nurse had me doing all sorts of things with my legs and belly. At one point she had me squatting as low as I could with Rory standing behind me holding my belly up from behind as securely as he could. Folks, I don't do squats on a good day, let alone through a series of three contractions, multiple times in a row. In the picture above, one leg is swung off the bed. We did other exercises with the medicine ball and after six hours of pure athleticism they checked me again and I was dilated to a four. After all that, I had earned one centimeter. I was discouraged and exhausted and called mercy. Which translated to: epidural. 

At 7:30 the lady with the epidural showed up. She told me I should be able to still feel my toes with the epidural. But a few minutes later I couldn't feel a thing from my belly button down and I could not have been happier. They kept one leg up on a medicine ball (under the sheets) still hoping the baby would get into position. They turned me every hour, changing the leg on the medicine ball. The epidural made me throw up (it has with all three kids) a total of twelve times and after a while it was obvious this baby was still not coming anytime soon. We decided to sleep for a while. Thankfully we didn't know it would still be eleven more hours before our baby would be born.