Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Another thing I could not live without...

The book of Romans



If I had to choose a favorite book of the Bible, or at least of the New Testament, I would choose Romans. I've heard it called, 'The mini Bible', because it has basically everything you would need to know about the Law of the O.T., as well as the grace offered through the New Covenant.

A couple of years ago Josh and I had the extreme privilege to study the book of Romans under a bible scholar. Of course he didn't go to school to become a bible scholar, but by God's divine ordination, he is indeed a learned student of the scriptures. When we first began the study I had asked him, "What keeps you so into reading the Bible?" At the time I was going through a hard season of disinterest with the Word, yet his undying love to study and know the scriptures played on the lonely notes of my heart. He told me, "There is so much in this book - I am fascinated by it". He also said that there is so much that the more he learns, the more he realizes he doesn't know. He was into digging real deep to discover the meanings, understand the culture and how it influenced the writer's writing, hear and know God's heart, and to reciprocate that to his brother's and sister's in Christ. He was, (and I hope still), PASSIONATE about the word and reading it.

God richly blessed me that summer. During the long study of Romans He impassioned my heart with His word too. I had no idea the Bible had so much in it for me personally! I was overwhelmed by God's grace as He poured out his Spirit and let me understand the hard writings of the book of Romans.

Since then my passion for the word has had it's ups and downs. The cares and worries of this life can so easily carry us believers away, but for this reason I rejoice in Romans chapters 7 and 8. If anyone understood the struggle of flesh against spirit it was the author of the book, Paul. I know this is true because although Paul was an incredibly godly man, his flesh and spirit still fought it out on a daily basis. The last half of Romans 7 is all about the "conflict of two natures" (as my Bible puts it), and whoa what a conflict it is! My spirit joyfully concurs with the Holy Spirit on all matters good, pure, and righteous. But my flesh is a devilish character, constantly combating the will of the Spirit in it's desires to do good, by 'looking out for number 1', playing the role of the disobedient nature, and down right evil in all it's intentions.

It is a weary battle.

And then the end of chapter 7 reads, "Wretched man that I am! Who will set me free from the body of this death?" Can't you just hear the desperation in his exclamation? Often when I read this I just automatically exchange the word man for woman, 'Wretched woman that I am!', and the thought continues, 'How can I say I am a Christian when I am so selfish with my time? Or when I am so lazy with my house hold duties? Or when I am preaching the message 'read your bibles and pray every day!', and yet how often do I actually do that myself' Oh the temptation to become overwhelmed by these thoughts is strong. But Paul, understanding the deep love, compassion, and grace of the Father does not end Chapter 7 on this despairing note.

"Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!" I can almost hear it as if Paul were shouting it from the top of the mountains - there is that much freedom in this sentence. In modern terms I think it would go something like this, "Because of Jesus I do not have to be bound up by my sinful flesh! I am FREE to not feel guilty, to not mope about as though I have let God down, I am FREE to enjoy Him because I am a wretch and He knows that and still He wants to be with me!' O sweet freedom!

Then chapter 8 begins, "Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." And with those words my heart lets out a giant sigh of relief.

It is my daily struggle to be reminded of that truth, and not become overwhelmed with guilt of not being a "better" Christian. Yet if I am humble to come before Him and express my wretchedness with complete sincerity, He is faithful to bring these things to remembrance.

Awe the Book of Romans, where would I be with out you?

Monday, October 18, 2010

I love my miniature food processor!

One thing I could not live without....
My miniature food processor.



Why has this particular item struck me as "invaluable", something "I can not live with out", you may ask? Well for starters I don't have a big food processor, and it seems clear to me that every woman needs at least some size of food processor in their kitchen. I mean they are SO handy! Hey want some home made salsa? Toss in a couple tomatoes, green chilies, onions, lime juice, garlic and wa-la! The best salsa you ever did have *said with a southern accent*. Or how about the fact that with out it I could not make good whole raw foods for my baby boy? With only 6 teeth in his mouth, salad and bell peppers are a little tough to chew up and swallow. And seeing how I just recently learned that at least 51% of each meal ought to be 'raw', there would be no other way for Elias to get his daily 51% with out the handy dandy chopper upper!

So there you have it. Lets hear it for the mini. food processor's of the world! *hip! hip! Horray!* ;) yes I am silly like that.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

I am head over heels...


...for a little boy named Elias.


He is the happiest baby I know. He smiles so big, loves his mommy indefinitely, and his daddy is his best buddy.

He is over 26 inches, and already 15 lbs!

About 3 weeks ago we started him on solids and he is loving them! Ok, well he hates green beans [but if I cover the flavor of them up with a little apple juice, it suddenly becomes the best thing he's ever eaten!]. Whenever I try to give him apple juice-less green beans he dives for the spoon, gobbles up the beans, and than sits back in his bumbo and cries. Its actually pretty funny. Other than green beans, he has eaten [and loved] rice cereal, bananas, watermelon, and oatmeal. We also let him try a starburst and he really liked that!

I can't believe that he is already 5 months. I swear every day he grows I have such mixed emotions. I feel both joy and sorrow.

Whenever he is going down for the night I cuddle him in the rocking chair until he starts to rub his adorable little eyes and drift off. He generally talks to me, and I sing to him. He mumbles and makes little noises like 'uhhh' or 'ahhh' - very monotone and even keel.

About a month ago, while nursing him, he reached up with his left arm and started waving it around in the air. I knew immediately what he was doing, and leaned my face forward so that he could find it with his 'searching' hand. I love love LOVE when he does this! I'm not sure what is motivating him to search for my face, or why he only does it with his left hand, but once he finds it he just rests his hand on my lips, cheek, or chin. Of course he can only keep it still for about 20 seconds, and than up and out his hand goes again, just to come back down and squash my face. Its very sweet. Its one of those memories I hope to always cherish and hold unto.

He rolls unto his tummy, and he is getting pretty close to sitting up, though right now he is mostly interested in chewing on his toes [sucking the right big toe, to be exact]. We'll try to sit him up and he will usually bend himself in half and reach for the feet in front of him. Last night Josh helped him with sitting up and we got a little of it on camera :)

Elias is such a sweet boy! I surely will miss his baby hood when it is all said and done. Even as I say that I fight back tears, realizing how quickly the time is going breaks my heart. It saddens me to think that in another year I will be back here, [hopefully], updating about what our 17 month old is up to.

The first month dragged like the last weeks of pregnancy. After we finally got nursing down, though, man time has flown by. I swear I was just taking his 4 months pictures, and already he needs his 5th month ones. I wish I could make time stand still, just for a little while. I often catch myself saying ,"I can't wait until...[such and such]" only to quickly correct myself and say, "I'm so excited for the day when Elias does...[such and such]". I don't want to breeze by these amazing moments too quickly. I don't want to waste a moment doing anything other than deeply and fully loving my son.

I honestly can't believe how much I adore him. It wasn't until this exact moment that I realize how much I love that little boy. He has fully and completely captured my heart.

I can't imagine him not being so beautiful and innocent, but I know that one day we will see that ugly sin nature come through.

O how I cherish all these things in my heart! O how I love Elias so much I could burst!

His daddy is pretty smitten over him as well. I am thankful for that though. Whenever Josh comes home for lunch or after work, the first thing he does is look for Elias. He kisses his perfect cheeks and talks to him in silly baby talk, and I just love to hear them interacting with one another. Elias loves his daddy too. He already gets excited whenever he walks into the room.

Its very sweet how Elias expresses his excitement. So far the best way to tell whether or not he is excited is to watch his hands and legs. His little wrists will sort of twist in circles and his fingers race up and down quickly as if he is playing piano. He also stretches both his arm's and leg's out stiff and just before the peak of his excitement his body calms a little, he takes in a deep breath, and with wide eyes he lets out an excited scream of delight! It really is so precious. Gosh I love that boy!!!

He still isn't one for crying much. Most of his crying really serves a very valid purpose, whether it be caused by hunger, pain, sadness, loneliness, or tiredness. Even when he cut both of his bottom teeth just last week, I would have had no idea it was happening had he not been tugging at his ear in the middle of the night. He never experienced any fevers, nor did his gums become swollen and red. I don't even remember him drooling more than usual. And like I said, if it hadn't been for him pulling at his ear after only being asleep for a couple of hours, I would have had no idea he was cutting a tooth. Now that the two bottom ones are in, however, there will certainly be no more chewing on mommy's fingers, ouch!

I love love love this little blessing so much! I can't even remember life before him, and it is difficult to remember what marriage to Josh was like before having Elias [which slightly bothers me].

There is no better job, for a woman, than to be called to mommyhood. I love this job. I love this life God has given us. I love it all!

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

An update!

I haven't done an update in quite awhile, so I thought I would go for it now!

Elias is closing in on 15 lbs, 27 inches, now. He had his first laugh on March 17th and is still giggling to this day. His hair is as fierce as ever, and growing in bleach blonde. His beautiful round eyes are still blue, and a very deep dark blue. I don't know anyone else who has eyes as beautiful, but of course I may be biased. He is blowing raspberries, grabbing his feet, jabbering his head off, and oh yea, complaining. I actually think it is pretty funny when he complains. His whole little face gets all frustrated and he lets out a sort of scream cry. Its one of those noises that make a mom go, 'O no Elias, that is not nice'.
He started rolling over just two weeks ago. His favorite is to try to roll while his mommy is trying to pin on his diaper, great timing kid ;) Only once has he rolled from his back to his stomach again, and only once has he rolled over twice, but he is getting it down. The one time that he rolled twice, he was completely naked, waiting for his momma to diaper and pajama him. It was quite funny, actually, because I turned around to grab a diaper and as soon as I did I heard the sound of plastic bag rustling, (and if you have ever noticed this about Elias, he hates the sound of a plastic bag rustling). Well of course I quickly turned around to see that a Mr. buck naked Elias had almost rolled himself completely under his crib and right into a plastic bag. I don't think he was intending on moving that quickly, because his eyes were as wide as they could be and his little arms and legs were straight out like as if he had been startled. So I laughed, rather loudly :) I think that he can really get going whenever he doesn't have a big ol bulky cloth diaper on.
He is a pleasant little person to be around, unless he is tired, hungry and not getting fed, or waking up from some of his naps. I love him so much it is ridiculous and Josh and I are beginning to see why it is so great to be parents :)

Josh is still at the church working as a pastoral intern and teaching Jr. High. He is praying about us starting up a small group, and also praying about leading the men's ministry at the church. He has such a firey passion to see the men in the church having a real and alive relationship with Jesus. He also has a hard time tolerating men being lazy and not the spiritual leaders God has called them to be.
He is growing in the LORD every day and I am so incredibly blessed to watch it happen.

As for me, I've begun a new commitment with God. The commitment consists of me making time for an hour long appointment with Him, and simply not breaking it for anything. The inspiration came when on Friday evening I heard Becky Tirabassi's testimony. She was saved out of an alcoholic life, where drugs and partying were also the usual, and was so on fire for Christ. She works with Youth for Christ, is married and has one son. The thing that got me, while listening to her story, was that after being a christian for a number of years she noticed a sourness in her heart. She said that she was bitter, overweight, and not the kind of christian that would make non-christians want what she had. At a conference for youth leaders the bombarding message was that the most important thing to youth ministry was that the leaders spent much time in prayer. Becky said she was thrown back, since she had always thought kids needed 'fun and excitement', and because her own life didn't consist of much prayer time with God. As a result of that conference she decided she was going to, for the rest of her life, spend an hour a day in prayer, and that was over 20 years ago.
On Friday night I too made that commitment. Becky challenged the many young people listening, (it was a previously recorded message from a time she was talking to a group of young un-married believers), to do the same saying that it wasn't about convenience, but about making a commitment and keeping your word. So with God's help, I am going to keep my commitment.
I'd challenge you all to do the same, as you can only reap un-countable blessings from doing so.

This morning I prayed and eventually found myself in John 15, where Jesus speaks about being the vine and we are the branches. "...apart from Me you can do nothing", vs. 5.
I can no absolutely nothing good with out Christ, including keeping my commitment.


So that is pretty much sums up the high lights of all that is happening lately. Josh are still learning how to be both a couple and parents. I am enjoying my renewed spirit in Christ. Josh is finding passion in teaching. And our happy little man is well, happy :D What more could a family ask for?

Monday, April 26, 2010

Cloth Diapering...

Could I do it any other way?

I think not! Though I did try disposables for about a month.
And they really weren't all that bad, though quite stinky (I believe it was the type of diaper, not just because they are disposies).

So far Elias lives in flats and plastic pants, although he does have a couple pairs of homemade longies, (thanks to Allison and Cathy - you sisters are awesome!), and 4 pairs of something made by Wonder Works. I tried to figure out what they are, and I believe they are pocket diapers (or something along those lines). So since Elias is sorely low on covers (and well, what is a cloth diaper with out a cover to keep in all the nasties?) I typed "make your own diaper cover", into google's search bar.

Now I am stoked to get started on what I discovered! Mind you, at the sewing machine I really have no idea what I am doing, but I have faith in a few good friends, (that don't yet know about this), who are wizzes with their machines!

So in honor of my new "love", I thought I would post up the sites with the patterns I've come across so that if any of you ladies are interested, you can try them out yourself. If you do, please let me know how they turn out! As soon as I get to Goodwill, print out the patterns, and have someone teach me what a 'zig zag stitch' is, I'll post pictures of the finished product and give you a little report on my experience :)

K so here are the sites:

http://katrinassqs.blogspot.com/2007/10/free-soaker-pattern.html <- she has a TON of patterns. Ok, well she has more than one. And I am very excited about trying her fleece pattern!

http://marthasworld76.blogspot.com/2007/05/how-to-make-wool-soaker-from-recycled.html
<- cute way of making longies

http://www.borntolove.com/frugal-column2.html <- though it seems that the directions are missing some possible key points, I am excited to try out her method. Another site directed me to her's and that woman said these were exceptionally easy.


Woo-hoo! Now who wants to teach me how to sew?!

Monday, April 19, 2010

Happy baby boy

Birth story of an almost homebirth

Elias James, Jan. 4th, 7:33 a.m. 9 lbs 2 oz 21 in, one small tear that needed a stitch, and no episiotomy :)



My son was 'due' December 24th, but other than BH, there were no signs labor was soon approaching. Finally on the morning of Jan. 2nd I woke up with a bit of show. I was so excited I immediately called my MW and doula! They both were greatly encouraged, seeing how this first baby of mine was taking awhile to show any signs that he would actually come out.

By 7, that night, I felt my first real contraction. My DH and I were watching a movie while I bounced around on the exercise ball, (baby was turned around and face up). I didn't tell him right away, but waited about a half an hour to see if these ones were the real deal. When I told him, my DH was so excited he said that we needed to call my mom, who lives in AK, and tell her to catch the next flight! I told him we needed to time them first, than call the MW, than if after we talked she thinks this was real labor, maybe than call my mom.

7:30 we started timing them and the time between was by no means consistent, but they were still coming! *thank the Lord*! We called the MW, she said it sounded like labor, told me to call my mom, and try to get some sleep.

I tried to lay down in the bed but there was a terrible constant pain in my lower back. So instead I sat upright on the couch and tried my best to sleep. I did pretty well, though every once in awhile a really strong contraction would rudely awaken me

By 8 the next day, (the 3rd), my in-laws were picking up my mom from the airport and coming back to our place. My mom rushed into the apartment, gave me a BIG kiss on the head and I instantly felt as though I could now have my baby.

We were planning on having the baby out our doula/friend's house, so we packed everything up and by 10:30 a.m. were on our way. At this point contractions were getting stronger, but I could talk through 96% of them.

We arrived at my doula's, and began setting everything up.

Timed contractions again and by the afternoon they were about 6 - 7 min. apart, and still totally bearable. I mean so much so that I even thought, 'well if this is labor, I am definitely made to have babies!' Little did I know, the tough stuff just hadn't showed up yet

My wonderful support team, (minus the MW, she didn't come until about 6 pm), took wonderful care of me during this super easy part of labor. I mean they were awesome at distracting me from the pain, talking with me, checking on me, feeding me, and making me go to the bathroom every hour on the hour.

About 3 we timed contractions again. They had spread out a little, but were getting more powerful. The spasm in my back also continued to get more intense. My support team were taking turns trying desperately to get the muscle to calm down, but all their efforts only aggravated it more. When this first began I thought it was back labor, but after I described it to my MW, she said that it was just some lumbar muscle that I must have strained sometime before labor began. Needless to say, I was not so happy about this added pain.

3:30 the whole house decided to take a nap. I tried also, but contractions were now strong enough that I could not sleep. I could still enjoy the company of other's, so I sat up with my doula and she prayed over my back. I think I remember it letting up a little, but not for long.

During all this the baby was still not rotating.

6 p.m. (ish), my MW arrives and decides she wants to check me. Because of testing pos. for Group B Strep, this was the first time I had been checked during this pregnancy. Amazingly I was already 100% effaced and at a "stretchable" 6 cm. My MW was impressed. She said that whatever my body had been doing for the weeks leading up to actual labor, had worked! I was pretty impressed too, seeing how labor still really wasn't hurting and I was more than half way there to having my baby. While checking me she tried her best to turn the baby, but he wouldn't budge. She also predicted he would be about 8-14, and said I had "plenty" of room to have this baby. She strapped me to the monitors, and baby's heart beat was strong, before, during, and after, contractions. There were no worries what-so-ever, this baby and his mama were doing great!

After she checked me, we sat down to have a little talk about the distance my doula's home was from the nearest hospital. Unknowingly we were planning to have this baby about 20 miles from any hospital, a distance that was just not comfortable for my MW. So after talking, I decided to take us all back to mine and DH's apartment. Also during our hour long conversation labor suddenly became more intense than anything I had ever felt before. My legs began to shake and I rocked my hips back and forth while holding fastly to the bed post. I also started breathing deeper and with more intention than before. It was good that I was warned this was going to happen, seeing how my MW had said that checking me was probably going to speed up labor. To that all I can say, "um. Yes it did!"

So while everyone was eating dinner, my wonderful DH announced, for me, that we were going to head back to our place. My support team, again showing me how wonderful they were, quickly re-packed everything and put it, and me, in the car. The ride back was quite a bit more difficult than the ride out. DH hit a couple of bumps that made me cringe a bit, but that was unfortunate seeing how it only seemed to happen right at the peak of a contraction

By 8:30 (ish) we were back home. I got down on hands and knees to try to get the baby to wiggle himself free from his unfavorable position. My mom popped in a DVD slideshow of pictures from the brother's wedding that I had missed (due to being too close to due day), and my water broke. I was rocking my hips and felt a huge contraction. With the contraction came a intense pressure. At first I thought the pressure was gas, and I was mortified that I might 'fart' in front of all these people, (yes I am that kind of a women that no one, and I mean NO ONE, hears me toot - which is what I prefer to call it). At the peak of the contraction and pressure feeling, and me with a scared look of pain and embarrassment, a big huge gush of water came flowing. I told everyone that it was the most amazing feeling I had ever felt before in my life, and well, it was, at least up until the part when the baby came out.

They quickly helped me out of my laboring pajamas and started the bath. I wasn't sure if I was having the baby in the water, but I at least wanted to be in it since I knew labor was just about to get a whole lot harder.

At 9 (ish) I got into the tub, and from about there on than on out, all things are a blur of time, faces, and pain. At some point during being in the tub I was given cut up apples with peanut butter, on a plate. I don't even think I ate one of the slices, (such a waste!), because later I saw a picture & it was put aside and it looked like everything was still on it from when it was given to me.

About 10 they got me out the tub to go to the bathroom again. I would have to admit that going to the bathroom, during labor, was one of my least favorite memories. For some reason it just made all the pain that much worse whenever I had to squat down to meet the toilet. After that not working out, they helped me change into something dry and than my mom lead me the 5 feet from the bathroom to the bedroom. Now contractions were definitely strong enough that without her strong arms holding me up, I would not have been able to walk to the bedroom.

In the bed room they started me trying lots of different positions to get the baby to move. He was not only backwards, but also higher than they would have liked to see this far into labor.

With my hubby in front of me, his knees on the ground, leaning forward on to the bed, I got on my hands and knees and held tightly unto his hands. This was probably my favorite memory from labor. Though it was hard, and everything a blur, as long as my husband was right there, right in front of me with his forehead against mine, I felt I could handle the pain. Later we moved to me sitting on the bed, on my knees, & sort of propped up against him while he sat on the exercise ball behind me, this I also liked. They checked me again and though it had only been a couple hours since my water broke, I was 9 cm with just a lip - anytime now! In fact they thought for sure I would have the baby by midnight.

Midnight of Jan. 4th rolls around and we're still doing the same dance, propped up against my hubby. My MW asked me if I wanted to get up and go pee again, but seeing how I hadn't been having any luck with that, she asked if I would prefer to do a catheter. And seeing how I absolutely despised trying to sit on the toilet, I opted for the cath. Unfortunately it didn't quite work out, because the baby's head was sitting on my urethra. My MW said that she could feel the tube hitting his head as she tried to put it in, and it just couldn't push past it. We did our best, though, and my bladder emptied a little, but I still had quite the pooch of what would not come out. By this time the baby had finally moved a little, now he was sideways, but she couldn't tell which way he was facing. He had so much hair that my MW could not find the fontanel line.

So they threw me back in the tub, this time with all the lights off, no people around, and me with my back pressed against the wall and my legs up, as if they were in stir ups. My MW sat in front of me and helped me hold my position by being the brace I pressed my feet against. She said this was a sure fire way of getting the baby to turn the rest of the way because my hips were most open in this position. I have to tell you though, it was extremely painful. I don't know if that was the case because of the awkwardness of the position, or because the baby was moving, or because now I was in the transition faze and nothing seemed to be happening, but regardless, during this time is when I felt as though I could not handle anymore. Later my husband came in and I told him that I thought I needed to go to the hospital because I needed an epidural. Being the wonderful, and practical, man that he is, he loving encouraged me that I "could do this".

My MW also helped me during this time by talking me through what I was feeling, and what was now happening in my body. She would tell me to just relax every muscle in my body, all the muscles that are not needed for getting the baby out, let your arms go limp, release the tension in your back, and breath deep. She told me to work with the baby, feel him turning inside, try to help him turn by relaxing everything. If it had not been for her in there to talk me through that part, I know for certain I would have had them call the ambulance, it really was that unbearable.

Now I must give glory to God at this point, because He really was with me through every single step of the way. I felt His presence holding me up, strengthening and encouraging me through out the entire labor. At this point in the tub my contractions were pretty much back to back, and so overwhelmingly powerful that in my mind I would cry out to God and ask Him for give me a break. I would cry out, and He would respond. Everytime I asked for a break, He gave it to me. It was like He was saying, "I am right here my beloved, I'm not leaving you alone in this very difficult place. Here is a break, so that you can re-gain your strength and continue on." During these breaks, however long they were, I would literally fall asleep. It had been over 24 hours since first contraction, and at least 8 since my water broke, and I really was exhausted. Whoever was in there, when I fell asleep, would tell me to wake up because they were afraid I would slump over and hit my head on the tub. But back to the main point, God, the living and real and powerful God, the one who hears when His children cry out to Him, was with me and lovingly giving me everything I needed to successfully labor! I could have possibly labored without my support team, but there is no way I could have done it without my Savior.

3 hours after getting into the tub I asked the MW's assistant what was going to happen next. I needed to know because I needed to know that I wasn't going to feel that much pain for too much longer. With a kind and confident smile she told me, "Next the baby comes." I than asked her what else I could do, because I had had enough of being in the tub.

By 5 am I was back in the bed room, and told the MW's assistant that I felt like I needed to push. She checked me and said I was 9 cm with that same small lip, but go ahead and do what felt naturally (thank you! This is one of the reasons I wanted a home birth, 'do what feels natural to do' - thank you!) She also felt for the baby's position and he had turned! Praise God!

I started pushing, and they woke everyone up. My mom was the only one who had stayed awake the entirety of my labor with me, but I am glad that the rest had gotten a little sleep.

5:30 - I pushed and out came a green'ish colored fluid. It immediately put up a red flag for my MW. Fortunately I didn't know green fluid meant meconium, nor did I even see it because my eyes were closed. In a calm voice my MW asked me not to push until she could put the monitors over my belly. Still I had no idea about the green fluid. The baby's heart beat was good and strong, except for when I pushed. I would push, his heart beat would sink, and than it took a very long time to return to where it should be. They began switching my positions. I started upright, and would squat down with someone pushing my hips into eachother. We than moved me on the floor on hands and knees. And than on my side, and than on my back, anything that would help the baby through me pushing. Eventually my MW just told me, "don't push on the next contraction". For all your mom's who have done this naturally, can you imagine being told that? I said I couldn't, she said she just wanted to see how the baby handled the contraction when I didn't push with it. Fortunately whenever I did not push, and just heavily breathed through the contraction, he was fine. Than she said, "ok go ahead and push on the next one". I pushed and the heart beat plummeted further, and struggled to return. We did this sequence one more time before she told me to stop pushing, and she was calling the ambulance.

The fire truck was there in like 5 minutes. They tried to IV me, all the while I am breathing in oxygen, which my MW put on me for the baby's sake, and blowing it out like a horse does when he waves his lips in the air.

The ambulance was there with in a half hour, and would have been sooner but someone in a more stressful situation needed them first. They came, loaded me up on the stretcher, ran me outside, my hubby hopped in the front and we were on our way. At one point I asked the very kind gentleman inside if I was going to have to have a C-sec. Of course he told me he didn't know, and that they were taking me to L&D. Than I felt the ambulance stop. I knew that we weren't at the hospital yet, so I asked, "I didn't know ambulances stopped at stop lights?" He told me, "Pregnancy isn't imminent" I had never heard that word before, but I immediately knew what he meant. I was not in an 'emergency' situation, and there fore we stopped at stop lights. I also asked him why there wasn't any sirens. Shortly after that they turned them on and sped up the pace. I think they began to feel sorry for me, I was quite the mess.

We arrived at the hospital and I was met with one of the kindest and most gentle smiles I had ever seen, Marylee, my nurse.

My support team arrived shortly thereafter and piled in the room. There were at least 6 hospital staff, and 6 people from my support team, so 12 people watched me give birth to my son. It is a very good thing that when you get to that point you no longer care who is in the room. I really would have been embarrassed had that been the same scene, 12 hours earlier.

They laid me on my back, started putting the equipment on, and transfered my IV, all while I was still breathing like a banshee. Than after being there for about 5 minutes I asked them what they wanted me to do. I was told that on the next contraction, go ahead and push - such sweet music to my ears! I had been told for the last hour, 'don't push'. Now I was finally getting the chance to let go of all that built up energy and push! So as the words, 'go ahead and push' were coming out of their mouth, I pushed with the force of a cannon ball coming out of a cannon. It must have done something big, because the next thing I heard was, 'prepping for an episiotomy'. I'm assuming the baby must have been crowning, and I'm sure someone told me this, but all I could hear was that dreaded 'E' word. No sooner had I heard it I turned to my MW and in desperation yelled, "M------ I don't want an episiotomy!", to which she replied, "Hunny if I were delivering this baby, I would do an episiotomy" (later I found out that the reason she said this was because she knew it was a big baby, and because he wasn't coming out so quickly/easily). I looked down at the Dr. and I watched something immediately change in his thought process. He was looking at the MW, put down the scapple, and began stretching me. Now I don't know if he heard me, or my MW's response, but either way, something made him change his mind, and I am ever so grateful!

I pushed, baby's head crowned, I pushed, baby's head came out, they stuck the tube down (he bit the Dr.'s finger when this happened), sucked out the meconium, pushed a few more times and with in 15 minutes of arriving at the hospital my beautiful son was born.

Now that was the most amazing feeling I had ever felt. Not for any reason except the immense relief that I didn't have to be in labor, anymore.

I didn't get to hold him right away, and forever I will morn that moment. They clamped and cut the cord and within 5 minutes were giving me a shot of pit. and literally pulling out the placenta. The Dr. looked at it, saw nothing was wrong, and than it was gone.

My son was just a few feet off, sitting under a bright light, crying, aggressively throwing his arms and legs around, and I laid in the bed, unable to even figure out what now was going on. They let me kiss his cheek before they took him away to the infant room - the softest cheek I have ever felt. They x-rayed his chest, and gave him some antibiotics for the Group B Strep.

While the baby was away I looked outside to notice that the sun had begun to rise. When I saw it, I was so puzzled that I had to ask, "why is the sun coming up at night?" Than I was told that it wasn't night, any longer, it was 7:30 in the morning. Which than made me think, wow, what an amazing way to start the day! What an incredible example of starting a new life, one with a new little person in our lives.

An hour or so later they brought him back and I finally got to look at his beautiful face, and smell his sweet skin. His daddy had gone with him, and stayed with him, right next to him the whole time he was away. Than baby, daddy, and I enjoyed our first few moments of being a family. It was a beautiful time, all three of us bonding.

I know I did not get to have my full home birth, but I did get as much out of it that I possibly could, considering the circumstances.

When the MW and I talked later, I learned the reasons why she felt it necessary to call 911. She said that although he had been doing so good for so long, something changed when I pushed. She said it could have been an elbow to the groin, a little too much 'squished' feeling, or something more serious, but whatever it was that happened, it scared my son so badly that he pooped his pants. She said it was the type of meconium that set off 'alarms', and the fact that he was working hard to conserve his oxygen after I pushed, that made her call the ambulance. When he came out at 9 lbs, 2 oz's, 21 in' long, and scoring 8's on is apgars, we now know that he probably wasn't really in danger, but it was more than likely a position problem for him, (ie. elbow to the groin, or something along those lines). Of course we had no way of knowing that before he came, so alas, we had to make the transfer.

Going away from this whole experience I have learned many things. 1) I loved laboring at home, 2) but I don't know if I can handle it again 3) but I didn't much care for how I was taken care of in the hospital 4) so I will probably bear the pain, and have a homebirth on the next baby

I hope that this rather long story is in some way, a help, or an encouragement to one of you ladies. I know that I wasn't against having my son in a hospital, so when we had to make the transfer, I thought that it was ironic. Unfortunately many of the people around me are even more against homebirths after hearing that mine didn't happen that way, but hey, this is what God wanted for our family, and I am blessed to have such an amazing story with a happy ending. I just hope to change their perspectives when the next baby comes along