I love our family. Addison is fitting in really well (Garrett calls himself the ‘Baby Whisperer’) and Isaiah has adjusted to life as four. Many things have recently changed in our lives, all were good changes regardless of how difficult they have been (even the freakish unexpected ones). Garrett walks around cooing at Addison and smiling. When Isaiah was a newborn we never got to choose to hold him. We just HAD to. His Demon Colic caused him to scream scream scrrrreeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaam if he wasn’t in someone’s arms. So when we could finally put him down (around 3.5 months old) we let him have A LOT of individual play. Addison doesn’t cry much, once we figured out that oversupply breastfeeding thing and the tied tongue, she is happy as a clam. So we hold her, not because we have to, but because we want to. What a different world that is.

With all the changes in our world, we have been discussing the idea of contraception. When Addison first arrived I told Garrett to schedule a vasectomy before he even thought about touching me. He’d say he wanted another one, I’d say no. Then he’d wake up at three in the morning for a feeding. The next morning I would say I wanted another one, and he’d say no. We flipped and flopped and had a pregnancy scare and then decided maybe we needed to talk about what we really wanted, before nature chose for us.

So Garrett, in all his brilliance, came up with this plan (which I like a lot): No contraception. Just breastfeeding. The side effects of contraception on my reproductive history as well as my anxiety are unfavorable. We didn’t want the risks that I would have to take with all my medical history and Garrett wasn’t ready to accept a vasectomy at 24 years of age.

If we do not get pregnant by the time I stop breastfeeding (about two years) then we are going to fix break Garrett’s man-plumbing.  I don’t know if this plan is very in favor of a third, since I had to have fertility treatments to push the Addison Ova out, but I guess we will see.

I think it is the excessive sun I am getting … but I have never been this loosey goosey with life planning. I don’t like the unplanned, unscheduled, unorganized (when it comes to my body). In both instances with Isaiah and Addison I already had their names picked out BEFORE I knew what/who they were. I always knew I’d have two children, some way somehow. So if I get pregnant a third time- I may not even find out the gender. I may let Garrett name it Alexander Magnus Kopter Pilot the 3rd.  I am just feeling that adventurous about life!

So maybe we’ll have a baby or maybe we won’t. Guess we’ll leave it up to nature

* We love finding outfits from thrift stores and taking those awful Wal-Mart Photo Center Pics… here is one Garrett and Isaiah gifted me toward the end of our pregnancy*

I had this whole post fleshed out about how I felt about my baby (who is no longer my baby) turning THREE soon…. but then I deleted it. I deleted it because it was all disconnected and I couldn’t form a good sentence, which only demonstrates how shaken I am that he will actually be THREE! Where did the time go?

Every once in awhile a gal likes to treat her man real nice. So this gal decided to treat her man to a space on the Netflix Queue (because his choices usually include movies like Team America- which is probably the worst film of all time). I decided to slip The Goods: Live Hard, Sale Hard into our next DVD delivery…. We are watching it    .as.I.type.this.sentence.

L-O-V-E means watching DUMB movies like this. I mean, Jeremy Piven would, I am sure, prefer to get mercury poisoning again than admit that he made this film. This is right up there with Glitter (sorry Mariah). So while I sit here trying to distract myself from this movie I post blog posts like this.

I must really love my husband.

Turns out. I do.

I once had a friend who was so in love with this girl that she was with she went to a StarWars convention dressed as an Ewok. I had another friend who took a month of French to say a couple of sentences to an exchange student. I mean, with Garrett, I didn’t convert to another religion or do anything else extreme- but I DO find myself having to watch mind-numbing movies and listening to way more Creed than I would otherwise listen to. But I love him.

So I sigh and stare at him with goo goo eyes as he laughs like a hyena at Ving Raines attempting to resuscitate an already VERY dead acting career.

What do you do for love?

When you have a second child, or during your second pregnancy, if you are like me, you think, “Shazaam! Number two will be a breeze, cause I got this shit on lock DOWN!” Ok, maybe YOU don’t say ‘lock down’ but if you did, you’d be as awesome as me! I digress.

If you welcome the second child with the admonition, “welcome, jewel of a baby, for I know all the secrets to motherhood and you don’t frighten me…” you’ll be wrong. I was wrong. I was SO wrong.

Every baby is different (as well as every pregnancy). And pride? It cometh before the FALL. That fall is the one where you burst into tears crying, “what did I eat that is making her scream in pain!!!!!!”

Addison is tongue tied. Not only do I not know how to deal with this medical issue, but I have never ever HEARD of it. Turns out it is more than an expression. Tongue tied babies have a very hard time latching and all that jazz. So now I have to figure out what to do about her tongue. I could get it clipped (OUCHIES!) or suffer through her poor latching, air sucking breastfeeding… In spite of her poor tongue, Addison is doing well. She is gaining weight and nursing like a champ- she just sucks a bunch of air and then farts like a man (a very large man that has eaten too many bean burritos) and occasionally screams because her poor belly is full of air.

So I don’t know if I should  get her frenulum clipped….

Does anyone have any experience with this?

I had no idea that so many things could happen to a woman’s underparts! I arrived home and promptly sat in my Midwife Herbal Bath. For all who don’t know: the Herbal Bath is a concoction of several herbs, sea salt, and Garlic. Soaking in it after a vaginal delivery expedites healing and is soothing. What they don’t tell you is all that salt and Garlic leave you smelling like a piece of Garlic toast…. and with a sagging belly, well, that just ain’t sexy!

I have wrestled with the idea of what to say concerning the birth of Addison. It was the most ideal experience I could have hoped for. And still, everyone is asking, “Did you get an epidural?” “Did you do it naturally?” A big part of me feels like I owe people a story, since I bitched about all of it so openly on the blog…. the other part of me wants to hold on to the beautiful experience I had and not have it tainted by people’s judgments (because OH! DO THEY JUDGE!).

I think the better questions for people to ask me are: “Jasmine, was it what you wanted?” “Did you feel supported?” “Is Addison here and healthy?” Yes to all of the above!  Garrett was a super labor coach, Sadie was great comedic relief, and I pushed that baby out in two pushes like Zena the Warrior Princess! I am so elated with what I went through. It was lovely. The UTI that followed was NOT lovely. I have never had a urinary tract infection. I would rather give birth to all of the Dugger’s children than experience that again. Um. I am not lying! I would eagerly pop out all of those little Duggers than ever have razor blades come out of my pee hole again! Thank the Lord for Cranberry and Antibiotics. MERCY!

When we are a little farther away from the birth….and I feel less of a need to hold on to this sparkly happiness of a memory, I will recapitulate what I experienced. For now I am still all squishy over what happened. IF it is any indication, half way through Sadie and Garrett and I LAUGHING through one of my contractions Garrett looked at me and said, “Dude! This birth stuff is awesome, we should have another one…” Then a couple of days later he was looking at me with creepy Precious Moments dough eyes and said, “Aw babe! I miss your pregnant belly.” I mean, the experience was awesome, the pregnancy was a breeze… but keep your evil parasite producing penis away from me sir! There will be none of that!

Hope everyone is well. We are all covered in breast milk and happiness around here <3

Like the title? I hope so….

So. Garrett and I went in this morning to have my membranes stripped.

HA! What a joke!!!  You wanna know what happened? My contractions got closer together with no change in intensity. So now my vagina is just all hurty and my back is all crampy and my front is all contraction-y, with no progress.

So. I check in tomorrow for good ole pitocin. I am a little frightened that I won’t be able to handle pitocin induced contractions, but at this point I am so angsty and bitchy that I might just stand up and grunt this baby out all Zena the Warrior Princess style (ew. gross visual!).

Hey remember all that lofty and mature crap I was spouting in the last post about not controlling life… EFF that! I am ready to see this baby and move on to phase two.

Check back in a couple of days, when I am sure to be all squishy and happy and in love with my little girl and this annoyance only a tiny blip on my maternal radar.

Pregnancy is a lot like life. It hardly ever goes EXACTLY how you plan it. So, rather, you learn to readjust and embrace things as they come. You attempt to understand that control doesn’t always mean security and what matters most is how you deal with disappointment or obsticales.

Listen to me! I sound so mature! I am done with life. I’ve reached my pinnacle *snort*

Addison will be here Tuesday or Wednesday via induction. This is why:

I have been on anti-anxiety meds for a good part of my life due to Generalized Anxiety Disorder and various other things (See previous post about post-partum psychosis). When I became pregnant I talked with my primary care physician about going off my meds (because they are not the BEST for baby), and he advised that during the last two months I could transition off them. I did transition off them successfully…. until last week. Last week I started having panic attacks. My body was getting very tired from the continually uneven contractions and emotionally I was just done being pregnant. Any women who has carried a child to term understands the intense anxiety that comes when you are at the final stage. By nature, I am not a patient person (when it comes to myself) and I am just generally anxious. So when the panic attacks began to hit at random times (like driving home from Target, when I was startled by a bird…) Garrett and I began to re-evaluate the whole home birth choice.

I had a visit with my OB and he talked me through some options. He said, and I agreed, the best thing (ultimately) was to get back on my meds so I would regain composure over my anxiety and to have the baby. Since my body is still contracting (still unevenly and and random times) and my cervix is way more than ready he asked if I felt ok with attempting natural induction (stripping my membranes) and then if that didn’t work medical induction the next day. The date is set for Tuesday (strip membranes), and if that doesn’t fire things up Pitocin induction on Wednesday.

In my journey to obtain a birth experience that was solely mine I have learned several things: The business of babies coming into the world is miraculous, regardless of the process.  Each mother needs a different experiences, even a different experience from her previous pregnancies. Be informed about your body, your rights, and your needs. Take charge of your health! Advocate a process, for yourself, that will set the stage to being a healthy and balanced mother for your children. That last lesson was what made me change my mind about a home birth. The reality is, if I had a panic attack in the middle of labor at home, my husband, midwife, and I would be ill-equipped to handle it. As opposed to some popular opinions severe panic attacks can’t just be “breathed” through my some individuals. Generalized Anxiety Disorder is a medical condition caused by several factors and should be treated with the utmost respect. All that to say, it can’t be conquered with some Lavender oil and chanting (trust me, I’ve tried).

My utmost concern is creating a stable experience that will 1. not push me into the whole psychosis experience and 2. not create more anxiety for myself so I can enjoy  the arrival of my daughter. This brought Garrett and I to the difficult choice of deciding to go to the hospital (with out labor support team) to be just and IV drip away from medication that would help manage a panic attack.

All of the Brokins’ readers have been so supportive about my journey with Addison. I can’t thank you enough. I keep reminding myself, as one of my very best friends told me, that “either way I will have a new life in my arms. Sometimes it matters less HOW they were born, but just that they were BORN.” The end result both directions is the hope of a beautiful baby girl. Do I have reservations that the anxiety of a hospital birth will push me toward the same post-partum depression experience? Hell yes! Am I afraid that I won’t have a panic attack and the birth will be perfect and I will wish I stayed home. Double hell yes! 

What I do know is that I am more educated this time around, better supported, and fully equipped to face this experience. I feel that if I don’t hedge myself in and control my anxiety that it will most certainly negatively impact my chances of developing post-partum depression and taint the arrival of our daughter.

 Listen to me? I sound like I am flying to the moon.

I think this is a blessing. It has uncomplicated the process for me and brought me back to the understanding that life isn’t controllable (though I will be damned if I stop trying to control it!). Facing your giants, in any form, is important. Taking charge and taking care of our bodies is a vital.

Wish me luck folks, I will check in again on Tuesday.

I was reminded by a friend that (even though I call it hippy and joke) the reality is that home birthing and the midwifery model are actually not “Hippy” at all. They are part of  the humanistic/holistic model of care. As opposed to the medical model they choose not to treat pregnant women, but rather assist women through a natural process and little intervention.

After I quizzed my OB and my primary care physician for several visits (do you know how expensive it is to just TALK to your doctor!) I was given the green light and decided to pick my midwife. We (Garrett and I) discussed what traits were important to us and I took to the task of calling a few in the area. I knew that I would instantly tell if I wanted to work with someone over the phone, and true enough having phone conversations narrowed my choices down to two. I ended up not even meeting with the second midwife choice. I immediately knew I was in love with Janessa Craig. Add  the fact that my OB worked with her on the Labor and Delivery Unit at Siloam and I was golden. Janessa is a smooth personality who will sit and look at me very patiently as I ramble on about research and data. She looks at me graciously and inhales for me and reminds me I won’t have this time back ever again and tells  me to savor it.

Janessa and her apprentice came to have a home visit on Monday.  I cooked lunch and they explored my house, discussed scenarios, and determined what I wanted for the experience. They didn’t leave for three hours.  After doing my vitals they just sat on my bed and giggled and talked like we were old friends. At this point I entered into my lecture about why Janessa needed to let me take Castor oil… “I NEED this baby, ” I complained, “I am over it! I am done being pregnant… I want her NOW!” Janessa shook her head and gave me the same ole speech, “Jasmine the best thing you can do is let her cook and when that time comes  that God appointed she will be here.” THAT is exactly why I don’t let God be in charge of anything!!!! That dude has got His priorities all jacked up! Doesn’t HE know that my body has expired of this process!? Who likes to pee forty ba-gillion times in one damn night!! Janessa’s words, however, reminded me that I could hold on for another week and maybe even two more after that. And just to make sure my misery was cataloged in my mind appropriately, I looked up at Janessa and commented, “Don’t some women stay pregnant well past forty weeks?” She nodded. “UGH!” I exclaimed, “That is it! I am going to be pregnant forever!” To which she responded, “Well! You could make us some money then!”

So we are still waiting. In Jasmineland more waiting means more projects.

 Even though I DO own Castor Oil… I am harnessing everything I have in my overly impatient body and holding on to allow Addison to decided to arrive when she wants. *Better make is soon kid! Asking Momma to have this much patience is sort of an act of God!*

Isaiah is half naked with a broom in his hand. The warm weather we had this weekend revived all the flies in Siloam Springs and they are currently living in my front room. Isaiah responded to this by taking off his pants and diaper and grabbing a broom to destroy them…. he gets that from his father.

My son is a wonderment. I see so much graciousness in him, more so than what Garrett and I have. When I see things that I know I couldn’t have possibly done, but they are so good and wonderful that someone has to take credit, I usually just blame it on God. I think Isaiah is who he is because of God. I haven’t completely worked out that line of reasoning, but I know he is so pure and good that I couldn’t take credit for that.

Yesterday Isaiah was baptized. It took less than five minuets but, I am certain, changed my life forever. For our family, Isaiah’s baptism was a recognition of his membership into the church and the acknowledgement that God redeems us to Himself even before we can acknowledge it through faith. Something about that baptism flipped a switch and reminded me that, “WHOA! This is a human life!” His soul has assigned value in Creation, he is a member in the Kingdom of God, he matters, and I am in charge of his care. THAT was a bit overwhelming. I can say, though, I am thankful that I was given this child, and this assignment, but it isn’t to be completed alone. I have Garrett. Garrett is BEYOND awesome as a father and friend. We also have our community. Our church. Our friends. All these people who are willing to link arms with us and help guide Isaiah, in love, toward a life that is his to live…

Stupid tears

This weekend reminded me, in SO many ways, to hold fast to those who are willing to not take the easy way out. Hold fast to those who will confront the hard stuff with you. Hold fast to those who will affirm that there is good in your despite your shortcomings. Hold fast to the piece of innocence in all of us….

It is that mix of dirt and deity. That innocence and love that shows on my son’s face (even when he half naked annihilating flies).

Happy Monday Y’all.

As a child I was very concerned with other people. I still am.  I see the same trait in Isaiah and it freaks me out. I tend to take up my grandmother’s mentality as my own: “I am happy as long as those I love are happy.”  She taught me that you just take care of people, and therein lies the will of God. I think she is right about that. There is something good about seeking to meet the needs of others. This has meant many years of asking others what they want/need and working very hard to make that happen for them. I don’t do this begrudgingly… I truly find contentment in helping other people get what they need.  Just like anything other life maxim, though, this has to be tempered with balance.  Balancing this characteristic hasn’t been something I am good at. It has created a really uncomfortable trait in me. It is the same trait my grandma has too. She will make a plate  for everyone and forget to eat, buy other’s new clothes and ignore the holes in her own, and things of that sort.  I have watched as my grandmother was exploited by folks who didn’t mind taking from her, but wouldn’t pour into her- and, today, I have to safeguard myself from those same kinds of people.

So when it came time to figure out this whole home birth system I had to come to a rock and a hard place. With the medical model of birth you just do what hospital protocol is or what the doctor wants. Although you can make choices on if you receive drugs or not and things like that, you are still put through a system… when I signed up for home birth I found that  my midwife and her apprentice started asking me nonsense: “Jasmine- what do you want to make you comfortable…” I swear I answered, “whatever is easiest for you.” She chuffed at me and calmly patted my hand. She explained, “Jasmine. This is ALL about you. Every moment is about what is happening to your body and what you need to facilitate that.” Can I admit that it freaks me the hell out that something is ALL about me? I am not OK with that. Lets talk about YOUR problems, what YOU need, how YOU are doing. My best friends have annoying habits of asking me what I need from them and I rarely have answers. “Uhhhh? Friendship? Make me goulash? I dunno!” Like my grandma, IF I answer their questions I have to admit that I NEED something. This translates into I need other people and can’t do it all by myself! But who has time to admit that! Certainly not ME!

Garrett and I sat down and thought about what we wanted (with the most weight going to what I wanted) and made a game plan. During this time of planning I’ve had to chant to myself, “I will not feel bad about wanting things my way, I will not feel bad about wanting things my way, it is okay that this is about me, it is ok that this is about me.” I don’t know if I will get used to this fact. I don’t know if I will ever get to the point where I can unabashedly proclaim, “Stick sucka! I am doing things how IIIIIIII want them, forget how you feel…” Because the truth is, I care about how people feel (a little too much sometimes), and frequently when I do what I want I second guess myself for weeks afterward. I do the whole, “geez Jasmine, you are selfish and bratty” lecture in my head. But  this home birth experience is teaching me how to take care of my personal needs, how to fill myself emotionally so I can better give to others (like Isaiah and Garrett) without being totally drained, and how to receive love and care without feeling guilt.

Pssh! And I thought I was  JUST signing up to have my baby at home *guffaw* things are NEVER that simple in my world!