Clark's Birth Story

My mom has been right about a lot in my life, and I always hoped that she'd be right about women forgetting the pain of childbirth once they held their child. Fortunately, I was able put another tally mark in her accuracy column. 

This is the story of my son, Clark's birth. (Warning: If you're not a fan of obnoxious pregnancy details, this post is NOT for you. There will be several TMI moments.)

I was blessed to have an amazingly healthy pregnancy. From the very beginning everything was "perfect". My weight was good, my labs were good, the baby couldn't have been more perfect, my blood pressure was occasionally high, but being that I have "white coat syndrome" it was usually good at the end of my midwife's appointment. Because everything looked good and since both Mike's and my mom were two weeks late when they carried us, I was convinced that our son would be late.

Things were shook up a little on Monday, April 30. (Thank goodness I listened to the advice of my friends and mother to go on maternity leave a week earlier than planned!) My blood pressure was high (140/90) both times they took it. In addition, I had seen "stars" several times in the past week. My midwife ordered additional labs and put me on a mild blood pressure medication. I was ordered to do a 24 hour urine screen. While not a painful test, it was definitely a hassle to collect and refrigerate all of my pee for a full day. 

I alerted my doula, Louise, to the situation via email. She called me almost the instant I hit SEND. She talked me through the possibilities and mentioned that we should prepare ourselves for the possibility of induction. So I did-kind of. I thought maybe Tuesday, if things look a little sketchy. At that point I'd be 40 weeks-on my due date. We kept news of the high blood pressure quiet not telling friends and family for fear that we'd cause unnecessary worry.

I dutifully took in my jugs of sample urine on Wednesday morning and found out that somehow I was NOT pre-registered at the hospital, so I took care of that too. I spent the rest of Wednesday running last minute baby-prep errands. On Thursday morning, nesting grabbed a hold of me and I cleaned (most of) our house before going into my blood pressure check at my midwife's. Michael was at work so I went solo to the bp check. My blood pressure was better, good even. My midwife explained that all of my labs looked good, EXCEPT for the protein in my urine from the 24 hour screen. It was 3 times the allowed limit. At that point, she told me she wanted us to meet her at the hospital that evening to begin induction. The concern was as much for Clark as it was for me. If my condition turned into true preeclampsia, I could become toxic. In the worst case scenario my kidneys could shut down and they would have to take Clark via emergency C-section.  Despite Louise's advice to be prepared for an induction, I was still shocked that we would induce so soon. I thought maybe we'd wait the extra 4 days until my due date, but no, we would be meeting our son in the next day or so.

The plan was simple (as simple as child birth can be). Cheri, my midwife, would perform a procedure called an EZ. The procedure entails inserting a catheter into the cervix and inflating a ping pong size balloon. This balloon agitates the cervix so it dilates. Michael and I arrived at the hospital right at 6 pm and within a half hour Cheri was there to insert the EZ. Due to a variety of factors (one being my labial varicosity--I warned you about TMI), I passed out during the procedure. I remember waking to approximately eight nurses surrounding me. One was inserting an IV, another was putting an oxygen mask on me, still another was wiping my head with a cold cloth. However the voice of the one who called for an emergency C- section will probably forever remain in my memory. At that point, I sat up enough to tell Michael, who looked terrified standing behind all the nurses, to call Louise. Soon, Clark's heart rate, which had dropped to 60 when I passed out, was up and in the healthy 130s again. The C-section would not be necessary. Cheri let me rest for about an hour before talking to us about our next course of action.

Once everyone was confident that Clark and I were both stable, Cheri told us that she was not going to attempt the EZ again for fear of the same result. Instead, she wanted to use a drug called cytotec to induce labor. Ironically, I knew about cytotec because my dear friend Sarah (who gave birth just two weeks before me) was supposed to induced using the same drug. She ended up going into labor naturally, but we had talked at length about the drug. There were a number of reasons I was wary about using it to induce. Other than the fact that it is not approved for induction (it's actually an ulcer medication), I was concerned that it could not be regulated after it was administered (they put a 1/4 of a tablet directly on your cervix and allow it to be absorbed). Additionally, as a drug that is routinely used for abortions, there was a possibility of hemorrhaging and death to mother and child. I asked about our other options. The other option--and the one we went with--was a drug called cervidil. It too is manually inserted, but it is approved for induction, has few if any side effects, and is on a string so it could be removed if there were a problem. Cheri inserted the cervidil at 8 pm and said a nurse would pull it at 8 am. That night Michael and I watched the Sox game and some other random shows. We talked to our parents to update them about the induction and we both tried to get some rest.

The next day started easily enough. The nurse pulled the cervidil at 8 am. At 9 am she started the pitocin. Louise joined us around 10 am. I remember the nurse telling me that I was having contractions, but I truly didn't feel them. Michael's parents came up to see us since I really wasn't feeling contractions, I was able to entertain a bit. My mom and sister also came out. Mom had put together a basket of goodies for the nurses (not that they needed to be bribed to give me outstanding care, but as teachers, my mom and I know how much it means to feel appreciated). They also brought Michael and me Panera for lunch. Cheri came to check on me a bit before 3 pm and decided to break my water to get labor going.

Here's what I remember from that point on. The contractions I couldn't initially feel turned into uncomfortable contractions that I had to breathe through. I felt better on the birthing ball, but after a half hour or so, Louise had me up and moving. We walked the halls for about a half hour. Every ten feet or so I would have to stop, lean against Michael and breathe through a contraction. When we got back to the room, my nurse checked me. I was 4 cm dilated and 90% effaced. Around 4 pm I got into the tub. It was glorious! My contractions were so much more bearable in the water. After about a half hour, Louise said I needed to switch positions in the tub. I went to a position on my knees and I hated it. She told me I needed to do six contractions in that position. (I feel like this is a perfect example of what a doula is--she's essentially a personal trainer for childbirth.) Michael counted me through the six contractions. At the end of them, I threw up. From all of my research and our birthing classes I knew this was a good sign--I was in transition. 

The next two hours are pretty fuzzy. I remember getting out of the tub and into the bed. I remember my contractions being incredibly intense. For the first time all day, I had trouble breathing through them. When Cheri arrived, she checked my progress. My time in the tub was definitely productive; I was 9 cm dilated 100% effaced.  I labored for another hour or so. There were multiple times that I asked for drugs. Michael's way of handling my pleas for relief was to stare at me blankly. Louise simply said it was too late for drugs--I'd have to do this just as I had planned--on my own, without drugs.

I had been told that by the time I got through active labor and transition pushing would feel like a relief. While that was partly true, it was still painful. The biggest relief was that I was in control of the pain. I pushed instinctively. No one was coaching me on when to push. Instead, Louise and Cheri coached me on how to push. In retrospect, it's amazing that I remembered so much from birthing class. I would stop when I felt burning, gear up and push again. My midwife and doula redirected my energy from screams to pushing. When I was certain I couldn't continue, Cheri had me reach down and touch my baby's head--he was almost here--I could finish, I would finish.

Finally, at 7:18 pm on Friday, May 4, 2012, our son, Clark Wiley Samples entered the world. He came out screaming. Michael told me later that he must have heard me during labor and assumed that's how we communicated out here. :) He also promptly peed all over me and the bed. I didn't even care. I was immediately in love with his pink screaming face. Because there were no complications, we were able to let the cord pulse before Michael cut it, just as our birth plan outlined. I delivered the placenta without any problems and even watched as my midwife took time to explain to me all the parts of the amazing life-giving sack. 

Clark stopped screaming as soon as they put him on my chest and covered us with warm blankets. His dark eyes darted between Michael and me as he saw the faces that went with the voices he'd heard for so many months. Because I had not torn, I was quickly cleaned up. Louise suggested we quickly allow our parents and my sister back to see Clark. I held him so that people would be less likely to try to take him away from us. The five members of our family came back to see our newest addition. After brief congratulations, they left us to be a family of three. I was able to nurse Clark in the delivery room before he and Michael went to the nursery for his assessment. 


I was taken over to our postpartum room shortly after Michael and Clark left me. After I got settled in, I joined Michael in the nursery as they checked out our little guy. He was perfect. The next morning, I awoke early and showered while both boys were sleeping. I knew that I needed to be ready for visitors. Cheri came to see us not long after I made it back to bed. She gave us the option to leave that night or wait until the next morning. Michael had had enough of sleeping on the uncomfortable pull-out, and I was more than tired of nurses in and out of our room at night, so we decided that two nights in the hospital were enough and told Cheri we'd go home that evening. The next several hours were filled with visits from many of our closest friends and family. By 7:50 pm we were on our way home with our one day old son. 


It's taken me over two weeks to finish this post that I started the morning after he was born. I guess that's an indication of how our lives have changed in just a couple of short weeks. I don't think I've ever been this tired, but I can't recall being this happy either. 

37 weeks...

On August 31, the morning I took my first pregnancy test, it seemed impossible that we would ever be here. There were so many doubts and concerns surrounding pregnancy. Now, I've never had any true issues that would constitute concern about successfully caring a child, but I didn't want to take this miracle of life for granted. I didn't want to arrogantly presume that my body would do what it would was supposed to do. So, on that late summer morning, the reality that I would ever be ready to deliver a full term baby was unbelievable.


Yet, here we are, one day past 37 weeks (full term), twenty days away from our due date. Our baby could be born today and be healthy (that's not an invitation, Clark--there's a lot of brain developing for you to do in the next twenty days)! It's surreal that the child I'm carrying is a honest to goodness baby. He looks like him (minus a pound or so). He has hair and nails and good Lord willing, perfect little limbs and fingers and toes. I just can't believe that I get to be a part of the miracle that he is. 


The past nine months have been such a whirlwind and a blessing. I'm not sure that any length of time is enough to feel prepared to be a parent, but the last 37 weeks have gotten us closer to being ready. I know that when our little guy gets here there will be some scary moments of questioning what we got ourselves into, but I also know that we couldn't be more excited to officially start our family. Ready or not though, Clark is coming!

A Selfish Moment

If you've read this blog from the beginning of my pregnancy, you know that I've worked very hard to maintain perspective. It's important to me that above all else (my comfort, appearance, or preferences) Clark is healthy. Regardless, I think all women struggle with the how pregnancy wrecks havoc on their bodies. I knew that I would be no exception; I've struggled with my weight and body image for at least the last twenty or so years. When I got pregnant I weighed more than I wanted to, the comfort of marriage caught up to me, and I was already carrying 15 more pounds than I wanted. By medical standards I was considered overweight. According to my books, I was to gain 15-20 pounds during pregnancy. 

I did alright during my first trimester. I gained around 6 pounds. Shortly after, however, the holidays took their toll. At my appointment in January my midwife commented that I seemed to be a little high and that I should watch the sweets; I was just shy of my 20 pound mark. I followed her direction and although I still let myself have the Junior Mints and Tootsie Roll Pops that I craved, I did cut back. At my February appointment, I decided not to look at the scale. (The OBGYN's scale was always higher than mine anyway--no surprise, I usually had appointments at the end of the day.) So, for the past three months I haven't really had a clue about how much I weigh. My midwife referred to herself in one of our early appointments as a "weight Nazi", so I knew that if there was a problem she'd let me know. 

I've felt huge recently and it didn't seem wise to have my first reality check at the hospital while in labor, so this morning, I had to look. I needed to know what I was up against. Would I need to lose 60 pounds, 70 pounds, or oh, my goodness...80 pounds (remember I'm still counting that extra 15-20 that I was carrying when I got pregnant)? With trepidation, I pulled out my trusty scale, blew of the dust, and allowed it to go to zero before stepping on. While I won't tell you the number, I will tell you that I was pleasantly surprised when I realized I've "only" gained 30 pounds! If I gain the 1/2 pound a week that I'm supposed to for the next three weeks, I'll be up about 32 pounds. This, my friends, I can live with. This is doable, and this, makes me feel much less like a failure. I know is a selfish and vain moment--being concerned about losing weight before my son is born, but one of my biggest fears about life postpartum has been not feeling like me. It's nice to see a light at the end of the tunnel and know that I can once again feel comfortable in my own skin--even if it will take a lot of hard work to get there!

Shower "Back Home"

To say that I'm blessed to have been born into the Brennan/Leonard family is a gross understatement. As a child, I loved my mother's extended family, but it wasn't until I was an adult that I truly appreciated how rare the relationships I have with those amazing people are. I grew up with family holidays that included sometimes sixty people. I knew I was loved by not only my aunts, uncles and cousins, but also by great-aunts and uncles, second cousins and sometimes even more distant relatives. So, while I didn't grow up on or even near the family farm, whenever we made the journey back, I still said we were going "back home" because that's what it felt like. 


It was no surprise then that going "back home" for a baby shower will remain one of my greatest memories of pregnancy. My dear Great-Aunt Mary Ann (who is also my godmother) and my Great-Aunt Ruth hosted the most perfect shower for little Clark. While our numbers have dwindled over the years, I was still surrounded by the love and excitement of some of my favorite first, second, and third cousins as well as my aunts and great-aunts. It was a perfect day. Here are a few of the highlights.

Aunt Mary Ann, me & Aunt Ruth

Allison & Samantha were amazing present helpers

Even though Charlie & Jon couldn't be there, they made sure to send Clark (& Michael) some Dolphins love!

Kaitlyn, Aunt Mary & Janet 

How cute is she?!

Linda & Laura

The aunts with Patty

Clark got a TON of great books! Laura went through her collection and pulled out her favorites for him--how special and sweet!

A Shower for our Boy

We were incredibly blessed to actually have TWO showers for our Clark. (I'll have to post pictures from the family shower "back home" in McHenry later this week--they're still on my camera which is charging.) I have a tendency to go on and on in long-winded explanations when I blog. Fortunately for you, Becky took great pictures, so I'll mostly let them tell the story. I will say that the day was PERFECT! I couldn't have asked for a shower that was more "us"! Our moms and sisters truly outdid themselves, and I am left with some precious memories. We couldn't be more thankful.

Welcome table with escort cards and "guest blocks". 

"Guest blocks" for everyone to sign and one of my favorite pictures from our maternity shoot.

Aww...Mommy & Daddy escort cards--so sweet, Courtney!

Centerpieces (each table had a letter and a coordinating item) & games

C is for Clark--LOVE our ultrasound picture of the little man!

Beautiful cake by our "Cake Lady"--I swear we didn't realize that his initials would be CWS until AFTER we decided on his name. It's a nice tribute to our Chicago White Sox, though. 

Prize table--Nice job Jen & Laura!

Not sure what my hair was doing, but we're pretty excited to be Mommy & Daddy! 

With Mono--Michael's mom

With Grandma (we're still waiting on Finn to give her  a unique name)--My mom

From the left, Grandma Hoyle, Aunt Lillian, Grandma Samples, & Grandma Gladys (one of my godmothers)

Holy gift table! Our friends and family were so incredibly thoughtful and generous!  Somehow we were able to get (most) everything to fit in the house!

Jenn, me, & Becky--We've been friends for nearly FIFTEEN years, and once Clark is here, we'll have four kids between the three of us!

Sisters & Nieces!
Back row: Michael's sisters-Jen & Laura, our niece (Jen's daughter), Ashley, me & Michael
Front row: Our niece (Laura's daughter), Nicole, My sisters-Courtney & Becky 

Finn came to the shower so Uncle Mike didn't have to be the only boy. ;)
We can't WAIT for him and Clark to play together! We're hoping they become the best of friends!

There were plenty of gift shots, but there's no need to post them all. This onesie (from Jenn) was one of my favorites!

The Girls!
From left: Chrisanne & Tenley, Beth (Reagan was with her grandma), me, Becky & Finn
We're missing Rachel & Violet in this one (it's excusable seeing as how Violet was  less than two weeks old at the time!)

Leslie mad it in from Chicago for the shower--we were so thrilled she did!

I wish we had been able to get pictures with everyone who came, however, the memories made that day with everyone who showed their love and support will always be me. Clark, I pray that you never forget that even before you were here, you were so incredibly loved by so many!

Maternity Pictures & 1 month

I LOVE St. Patrick's Day! I always have. There are many reasons why I am proud to be a part of my grandmother's family, but one reason that I am particularly proud is due to the Irish heritage of the Brennan family. I grew up with my Aunt Georgia telling stories about kissing the Blarney Stone, going to funerals that were true celebrations of life, and falling in love with all things Irish. I bring this up for several reasons, 1) Saturday (St. Patrick's Day) was one of the ONLY days during my entire pregnancy I was seriously bummed that I couldn't drink (Clark--you're totally worth it, but Mommy wanted a beer), 2) I was excited that we took our maternity pictures on St. Paddy's Day because I'll ALWAYS remember it, and 3) Somehow it made the pictures of me in the rocking chair my Grandma Betty bought for my mother when she was pregnant with me all that more special.

Before I share those pictures, I'll give you some exciting news. I'm 33 weeks right now which means that in ONE MONTH Clark will be full term and if he came, it would be ok. One. Month. So terrifying. So exciting!

A special thanks to my wonderful best friend and sister-in-law, Becky Hoyle, for taking our maternity pictures. I'm posting my favorites (all of which came from our preview--Beck, you have such good taste!), so for those of you who are not on Facebook and have been demanding belly shots, you should be appeased. After you finish this post, click on over to Hoyle-Cunningham Photography or go like them on Facebook, because seriously, I have some amazingly talented friends/family!

This is the chair my Grandma Betty gave my mom when she was carrying me. It was super important to me to have it in the nursery. All I  did was paint it white to match Clark's room.

So artsy. So beautiful.

Bruce (left) and Bentley (right) know something is up, but I doubt they have any clue how much their lives our going to change in the next several weeks. (We kind of feel the same way!)

One of the only bare belly shots I actually LOVE!

Clark's room is almost done. The only things left to do are finish the prints that will be framed and hung on the walls and buy/assemble the bookshelf.

Love this.

One of my favorites. It's amazing how I look like I'm all belly--I swear I'm not!

31.

Now seems as good a time as any to reflect on the past several months and look forward to the future. It's amazing to me that time has gone by so quickly. I was warned that it would. I anticipated it doing so, yet somehow, I was caught off guard when I realized that a week from from Thursday I'll be two months away from my due guess date.

While I'm practically giddy to meet our little boy, when I think back on the past 30 weeks, part of me is sad that this time is going to be over so soon. I've really loved being pregnant (even if it has meant giving up cold turkey sandwiches *sniff, sniff* and coffee *sob, sob*)! In fact, the other week week I was talking to my best friend Chrisanne and telling her that while I can't WAIT to see Clark on the outside of my growing tummy, part of me will miss having him there and knowing that he's with me and safe. She guaranteed me that while she felt similarly with her little girl, Tenley, they're much more fun to play with on the outside. :)

I'm also grateful that I've had such a complication-free pregnancy. Each check-up has been "perfect." Even my weight (which I was nervous about) is on track according to my midwife. I don't want to be arrogant or fool-hardy and assume that all will go "perfectly" during our delivery, but the fact that I haven't had problems thus far makes me a little more optimistic.

What has not changed is how busy I am during the spring. I'm irritated with myself that I haven't blogged in a MONTH! Slightly more irritated that this post is coming a week after I planned for it to (it was originally titled "The Big 3-0!"--now, however, "The Big 3-1!" doesn't have the same ring to it). Last week I finished teaching my first of three test prep classes. Last night started #3 and after Thursday I'll be half way finished with #2. Between regular work, teaching test prep 1-2 nights a week and all the weddings we're finishing for Signature, Ink., I'm definitely keeping busy while waiting for our little one's arrival.

I'll post a belly picture soon. I just need to find time when I'm at home to move it from my camera to computer.

Busy.

With the way life has been recently, blogging has taken a bit of a back seat. I have had to get real with myself about the fact that currently, I am NOT being paid to blog, thus the things I AM being paid for (or should be getting paid for--here's hoping Signature, Ink. actually MAKES money this year!) need to take priority. That being said, I'm happy-ish that I can be blogging once a week. 


I can't think back on a time in my life that I wasn't busy with something, and this pregnancy is proving to be the just more of the same. Between school (ugh. school--hopefully this will be one of my last years teaching), working to start a business, and my side gig teaching SAT & ACT prep courses at night I'm happy when I can squeeze in a little TV time with the hubs or dinner with a good friend. Presently, I'm grateful to steal a few quiet morning moments in between Signature, Ink. invoicing/bookkeeping and getting ready for my nephew Finn's 1st birthday party to blog a bit--for me.


Being busy like this has me looking forward to the weeks after Clark is born. While I'm 100% aware (although I'm sure not truly prepared) for six plus weeks of pure exhaustion, part of me is truly looking forward to the opportunity to be busy with one thing--my new family. School will be handled by a substitute. At least four of the six weddings we are currently working on will be in production or done. SAT & ACT classes will be finished. And I will be ridiculously tired and completely in love with the new man in my life. I'm praying that those weeks will not only be an amazingly precious time for me to cherish, but also a time for Michael and me to make some discoveries and decisions about what can/must change in lives in order to put this new family of ours at the top of our priority list.


In the meantime, I'm handling this busy time as best I can, praying for the strength and wisdom to move toward motherhood, and thankful for the people in my life who understand why I am often MIA.

Fear

As promised in my last post, it's time to talk about the fear of childbirth. From all I've read and been told, EVERY woman experiences a modicum of fear when considering birthing her child. It apparently took 24 weeks for that fear to set in for me. Last week I had a true breakdown that resulted in Michael being soaked in my tears. So, what threw me into such terror? Well, other women, of course.

It was mostly my fault. I should have known better. I've spent most of my online-adult life avoiding forums. Rarely is there anything of value on these cyber traps, but I just couldn't resist the thread on my baby site titled "What no one tells you about delivery." In truth, I clicked the link with an air of  "tell me something I don't know." After all, I've read a LOT about birth. I've had friends who have recently given birth who have shared their stories. I felt that I was prepared, educated, ready.

About 80 responses in to the thread that should have been more accurately titled "Let's try to scare all new moms to death (or into scheduled c-sections)", I started freaking out. How had I been so lead astray? Were my "friends" maintaining some sort of pact in this new mommy club they joined? Had they promised to tell enough of the truth to appease me but kept the real horrors of childbirth to themselves only to dupe some other poor sap (i.e. me) into pregnancy only to relish in her demise? (Lord help us if our son has my flare for the dramatic.)

I went straight to (one of) the source(s), my dear friend Sarah who is currently carrying her second child. (Baby VP 2.0 is due just a few weeks before our Clark!) After announcing that I was incredibly mad at her for lying to me, (you should know is that Sarah is also one of my business partners in Signature, Ink., a fellow teacher, one of my spiritual mentors, and easily my closest rival when it comes to being bossy, so she is used to my accusatory demeanor) I proceeded to explain why. I'll spare you the details because really, they're gross and it turns out that everything I was afraid of, according to Sarah, was not shared with me because it didn't happen or is "not normal and those people should see a doctor."

Where does this leave my fear quotient? Much lower than it was after reading the scary forum, but slightly higher than it was, let's say, 7 months ago. I know that reading will only do so much to prepare me for task of giving birth and that the classes we'll be taking will help a bit more. I also know that women, some of whom are  much stronger than me, but many who are much weaker than I am have done this for thousands of years. Our child will come into this world and all will be well. In the mean time, I'm reading, praying, and seriously considering purchasing Hypnobabies. At this point, any relaxation has to help!

Judge much?

Remember the adage...something about the things that annoy you the most about others are probably things that you're guilty of yourself? (I think it's an adage, if not, it's a Jane-ism compliments of my mother.) Anyway, I've been thinking about this a lot lately mostly because I can't seem to get away from judgment.

I'll start by fessing up. My name is Betty and I can be INCREDIBLY judgmental. I know this about myself--I'm not necessarily ok with it, nor to I accept it as who I will be forever, but I know that my natural tendency is to assume that my way it right/best. With that in mind, I will also say that I've come a long way. If you can believe it (and some of you can because you've known me for most of my life), I used to be even more judgmental than I am now. For much of my life I wrote it off as being opinionated, but I now realize it's more than that. 


With motherhood looming in front of me, I'm working on being a woman that Clark will be proud to have as his mother, and no part of me believes that being judgmental is part of the job description. I'm also realizing that this club of mothers that I'm about to join is not much different than a lot of other clubs or societies that I've been a part of or witnessed. My friend Sarah blogged just last week about mean girls. There's little value in me re-hashing what she said, so go read her post (and follow her blog while you're there) then head back here.


Sarah's observation about mothers being just as horrible to one another as the "Plastics" in the movie Mean Girls isn't a unique one this week. Just yesterday my sister-in-law/best friend Becky posted this article about women judging other women for staying home...or not staying home (because although we women may be bitches, at least we're equal opportunity bitches).


My point is this. While my child is still in utero, I've seen others judged for their choices (What?! You're ok with breastfeeding...in PUBLIC?!), and I'm sorry to say, I've even been the one judging. But what I'm realizing is what you might call another Jane-ism, we're all just doing the best that we can with what we have where we're at. It's possible that the mother sitting in front of me at church feeding her baby formula tried desperately for months to breast feed, but finally, finally was able to move past her own hang-ups and supplement or switch to formula for the health of her baby. Or maybe she never tried to breast feed. The thing is, it's not my business. And while I don't understand it and hope I'm never in that position, judging her doesn't help promote the greater good. It doesn't recognize that this woman has taken on what I already view as the most difficult job in the world. And it definitely doesn't make me the woman I want my children's mother to be. 


I don't believe I'll ever stop being opinionated. I have very specific beliefs about most things, and I won't apologize for believing that breastfeeding, cloth diapering, and non-processed foods are what's best for my baby. However, I'm done being judgmental about others who don't believe the same thing because if mothers can't get love from other mothers--women who have literally been there--then where can they get the love and appreciation they deserve?


Finally, the more I read about delivery and postpartum recovery the more love I have for all of you mothers because I'm seriously beginning to freak about this giving birth thing that's going to happen in a few months...but I'll leave that for my next post.

Running

If you've read any of my pregnancy posts, you know that I absolutely love carrying this little guy! The good outweighs the bad in so many ways, but recently I've been craving a run. My college roommate, Sarah (if you don't yet follow/read her blog, you need to!), just posted about getting back into running after the birth of her daughter. While I'm happy for her, I was more jealous than anything. 


I miss running. Now this sounds silly given that if I were a hard-core runner I could still be running right now, 22 weeks into pregnancy. After all, Amber Miller ran the Chicago marathon and then gave birth to her daughter a few short hours later (she was even in labor during the last leg of the race...seriously?).  So, no, I'm not that hard-core, but even people who aren't hard-core can love and miss something. And, I miss running. 


It's really the feeling I get about 7 weeks into running that I miss. My lungs no longer burn, my feet and legs no longer hurt, and 3 miles is a "short" run. That's what I miss. That's what I've been craving. It's supposed to be 50 degrees in Chicago on Friday--perfect running weather, but instead of joining my fellow runners out on the road, I'll be avoiding their cautious glances as I drive by. While running and I have always had a love-hate relationship, the fact that right now we're stuck in this taboo love affair is a bit more than I can handle. I'm hoping that once my Lo gets here he and I will be able to hit the trail, jogging stroller and all, so that someday he'll love-hate running as much as I do.

21 Weeks & a Post-Christmas Update

Oh, my! I can't believe it's been 12 days since my last post. So much has happened in the past few weeks. I'll try to avoid my long-winded ramblings and give a quick, bulleted update! 


Diaper bag: Thanks to my dear friend, Chrisanne, and her lovely daughter, Tenley, for going with me to retrieve my coveted Timi & Leslie bag! I got quite the deal on my trendy yet functional accessory. While Charlie retails at $160, I was able to score the designer bag for a mere $94! I did end up getting in the mustard color, and after seeing the black and light brown colors in person at another store, I'm happy I did!


Cleaning: As usual with breaks, I think I'm going to accomplish much more than I do. With our crazy holiday schedule, the new cleaning routine hasn't completely come to fruition. I'm not abandoning the plan though! I should have a better update for you after I get back to school. (Ugh. School.)


Christmas: It was a wonderfully odd Christmas for the Hoyle/Samples clan. There were many changes instituted this year, and on top of it all, there was no snow. All of that added up to wonderful time with family (especially because my nephew, Finn, celebrated his first Christmas), but when it was all over, I was left feeling like Christmas had yet to arrive. I'm hopeful that next year the excitement of Clark's first Christmas will bring the magic back.


Clark: Perhaps the most exciting news is that I reached the halfway point in my pregnancy. It's odd because there are days that I still feel newly pregnant and others seem like I've been pregnant forever! Either way, I'm so grateful that everything is progressing just as it is supposed to. At our last midwife appointment a few weeks ago I was measuring right at 18 weeks, had perfect weight, and other stats. Thank you, Lord! 


In other baby news, I was delightfully surprised the morning after Christmas when Clark kicked me for the first time! I've felt him moving for several weeks now but no real kicks. It was the best present I got all year! With that said, here's a belly shot for you. (I've got to say that I'm getting to that "I feel super gross" portion of my pregnancy, so I'm not sure how many of these shots will be posted from here on out.) Oh, I almost forgot! We put the crib together yesterday, so you get to see that too!

In lust.

I'll admit it. I'm in lust. No, not with a super hunky A-lister or even a sexy pair of new sky-high black pumps. My current obsession? A diaper bag. Ah, how life has changed. I never thought I'd fawn over, wish for, and hunt down a...diaper bag. 


So which bag has captured my hyper-hormonal heart? Why the Timi and Leslie Charlie II, of course! What? You don't know what I'm talking about? You don't lust over diaper bags? It's ok,  I didn't either. Wait until you're preggo. My guess is that you'll join me. Here's a snapshot of my love.

Well, hello beautiful accessories!

Isn't it BEAUTIFUL?! Notice that it doesn't, not for one little second, look a thing like a diaper bag? I'm DYING to get my hands on this beauty. For that reason, my ever dedicated to fashion best friend Chrisanne is going to trek out to the suburbs with me tomorrow night and try to snag one of my very own. (The boutique where we had our gender determination ultrasound is hosting a Midnight Maddness sale and all their merchandise is 40% off from 6-10 tomorrow night!) I'll be sure and let you know how it goes, but for the mean time, keep your fingers crossed that we don't make the trip for nothing! 

See? Jessica Alba loves the bag too!

When Michael & I were at the boutique last they only had the bag in the mustard color. If that's the only color they have, should I still nab one?
For 40% off, I just might!

Nesting

Although I'm incredibly type A in many ways, I am NOT by nature a neat freak. Since being with Michael (my loving, but incredibly OCD husband) I've gotten much better at putting things away and keeping up with cleaning, but I am still far from having the spotlessly organized house that I want. Thus, when I found out I was expecting, I looked most forward to nesting out of all the symptoms of pregnancy. (Ok, if you know me, you know I was really looking forward to bigger boobs, but that has yet to happen--they lie about the boob thing; not everyone gets huge boobs!)

This leads me to my favorite new blog post from The Fun, Cheap or Free Queen. I've tried to implement a schedule like this in the past, but I think my version was much too intricate to be functional. This schedule fits on less than a page and is SIMPLE! My plan is to put it into place starting next week when I'm on Christmas Break (no, it's not vacation because I do not get paid for this time).

In addition to the schedule, I'll be cleaing the house with 100% natural homemade products. With the baby coming, I'm trying to get rid of as many chemicals as possible. I'll be sure to let you know how Operation Clean House works out with the new schedule and eco-friendly products!

Yes, we're cloth diapering.

Before you read on, please know that this post is in no way meant to sound preachy or critical of disposable diaper using parents. Would my child die if I used disposables? Of course not. Do I think that parents who use disposables are incompetent or bad parents? Definitely not. I'm slowly learning that we all make choices about what is most important to us. For Michael and me, cloth diapering is important.  I'm also learning that sometimes people do what is easiest in order to survive; I get that too.  

I wanted to write about our decision mostly because so many people ask about and are surprised by our choice. My guess is that because the cloth diapering revolution is rather new, few people know about why and how people do it. If nothing else, I hope this post answers some of your questions and leaves you asking some too. :)


Top Ten Reasons We're Cloth Diapering


#10--Cloth diapers are CRAZY cute! 
This is the most superficial reason, thus it is number 10. If all the other reasons didn't exist, I still might have gone this route just for the adorable factor. 

#9--Cloth diapers have more padding.
There's more cushioning for our little one as he takes toddles and topples while exploring the world. 


#8--You can't beat the convenience.
We won't have any midnight runs to Walgreen's because we're out of diapers!


#7--Potty training is easier.
When it is time to get our buddy out of diapers, he's more likely to train faster since he'll know that he's wet. (Chemicals in disposables/Pull Ups keep the baby dry, so he's less likely to realize that he's had an accident.)


#6--Being a leader is much more fun than being a follower. 
All I mean by this is that I'm not about to do anything as a parent simply because "everybody else does." I get that most Americans use disposables. Most Americans don't vote either. In fact, there are A LOT of things that most Americans do that I you'll never catch me doing.


#5--Cloth diapers are more reliable.
When tested against disposables, cloth diapers are more likely to contain leaks and blowouts! Less mess? Count me in!


#4--These aren't your grandma's cloth diapers!
When I tell people we're going to cloth diaper, after the shock and awe face has subsided, one of the first questions they ask is, "Like with pins?" No, people. There are no pins involved. A majority of our "stash" consists of pocket diapers (they go on like disposables) that are VERY user friendly. Here's a little diagram:

#3--I want our great-great-great-great grandchildren to live in a clean world. 
The average child will go through as many as 8,000 diapers before being potty trained. These diapers end up in landfills (accounting for 3.5 million TONS of poop and plastic going into our ground) that are not created for human excrement. This waste ends up in our groundwater and can cause a variety of problems. (Disposable diaper packages instruct users to dispose of feces in the toilet...when was the last time that happened?!)


#2--It's cheaper. (If Michael were writing this post, it would probably be his number 1!)
So far, we've spent about $300 on cloth diapers. By the time our stash is complete, we may  have spent $500--TOTAL. These diapers will not only be used for our first little guy, but can also be used for any children who join our family after him. If we were using disposables, we'd be spending a minimum of $800--A YEAR! (Yes, we'll be doing more laundry, but a couple extra loads a week won't even touch the money we'll be saving!)


#1--It's healthier for our baby. 
I've done TONS and TONS of research on this, and here's what it boils down to: disposables have crazy chemicals that I do not want on my child. In extreme cases, children have sustained chemical burns from these toxic elements. I know that I will sleep a little easier at night knowing that our little guy's bum is resting comfortably against soft cotton sans chemicals. In addition, the fact that we are having a little guy makes me want to cloth diaper even more; there have been studies connecting the use of disposable diapers on boys to lower sperm count as adults. I'd like grandchildren some day. 

I love this...

Michael and I were recapping our days yesterday and talking about how certain changes in our work situations would impact our lives once our little guy gets here. For the third year in a row, Michael will be forced to take 19 furlough days. While the loss of that income won't break us, it's frustrating. However, my ever-optimistic husband talked about how it will be nice to have an extra day at home with the baby and me during the last half of the year. All this conversation lead to dreaming about the future of our little family and the person our son will be.

As excited as I am to meet this miracle, I have to admit that part of me will be sad to no longer be pregnant. I'm sure once I get to the incredibly uncomfortable end of the pregnancy, I'll be grateful for the relief, but right now I'm relishing the alone time with my child.

I don't want to give the impression that there haven't been unpleasant or frustrating aspects of being pregnant. The constant nausea of the first trimester and the lack of enjoyment I get out of food right now are no fun. And I'm quite certain that once I start getting bigger and looking more pregnant the stretching and changing of my body will be depressing, but even with all of those irritations, I LOVE being pregnant!

I love the fact that everyday is bring your child to work day for me. I love knowing that he's safe and sound because he's with me. I love these first "flutters" of movement, and I L-O-V-E my sweet little man's profile in his sonogram pictures. Right now, I even love that my bump is starting to tell the story of our family.

I'm sure experiencing all of these pregnancy "firsts" with our future children will be exciting as well, but I wonder how much I'll get to enjoy and cherish them while chasing after another child. For that reason, I'm relishing all of these moments as they come and trying to document the excitement, wonder and anticipation that this child has already brought to our lives.

Waiting, guessing, and finding out.

Before we were even considering starting a family Michael and I knew that we would want to find out the gender of our child before he or she arrived. We're planners by nature, and the prospect of 40+ weeks not knowing if the new addition would be a boy or a girl was too much for either of us to handle.

Since we found out we were expecting, I've had this "boy" feeling. I second guessed it several times, mostly because I questioned the validity of mother's intuition. Could I really know before I knew? 

For fun (and at the prompting of my sisters) I checked out The Bump's Chinese Gender Chart. The ancient tradition told us our Lo would be a...BOY!

Out of pure curiosity and excitement, I bought an IntelliGender test on October 23. The gist of the test is that the first day's urine mixed with the crystal concoction indicates the gender of your child. It's supposed to be 80% accurate. The "scientific" test told us our Lo would be a...BOY!

 

It was hard to put much stock in either of these tests (even if they did agree), so we scheduled our gender determination ultrasound at a lovely place called The Belly Factory. (Thanks for the recommendation, Chrisanne, they were as wonderful as you said they were!) The tried and true ultrasound said our Lo would be a...BOY!

Three out of three isn't bad! While we would have been ecstatic to have a little girl, there's a part of me that feels so good knowing that I knew our Lo was a boy. It restores my faith in this mother's intuition I'm supposed to have (while also making me feel better that many of the "gender neutral" clothes/diapers we have right now are really more boy than I wanted to admit at the time). To say that we're thrilled to welcome this sweet little boy into our lives is the greatest understatement of all time! Get ready world, another Samples man is on his way!