Raja

My girls ask me lots of questions, some of which need decoding. One such question went about like this: "Mom, are we going to Raja?"

Now my first thought was that Rain was referring to the tiger from Aladdin, which didn't make sense because I didn't think my girls had seen that movie yet. Then it clicked...Russia, pronounced in exotic, childish, parroting of what has been tossed about a lot as of late.

This is our story.

This picture was taken on the spur of the moment, in the last light of the day. It was chilly, but the girls were good sports when I made them take their coats off for the picture. Echo looks a little silly, but I figured we had 4 out of the other 5 looking decent, so it's a winner. I used it for our application and it has since become my favorite family picture of us so far. [Family pictures are a miraculous event for us] 

(The following excerpts may or may not be part of my talk that we were asked to give in anticipation of moving out of our ward. A lot came from my journal, which I felt was blog-worthy as well.)  =)

For the past while, I have been frustrated with the relationship of righteousness and prosperity. I had read in the scriptures many times about it. For example:

2 Ne. 1:20 And he hath said that: ^aInasmuch as ye shall keep my ^bcommandments ye shall ^cprosper in the land; but inasmuch as ye will not keep my commandments ye shall be cut off from my presence.

The promise was there, many times, so why was it not happening to us? So I pondered it, prayed about it, talked with Shane about it. And I asked him: "Why are we not prospering?" We examined our habits, and looked for ways to improve. I said, “We are reading our scriptures almost daily with our family, we have family prayer twice a day, we attend our meetings weekly, we are trying to fulfill our callings, we fast, and pay our tithing. What are we not doing? What can we do better? Why are we not prospering?"

Now, I know there are also lessons in patience and enduring trials, but to me it seemed like at some point, the law of the harvest would prevail. I also know there are also many definitions of "prospering" and I can't deny that I have been truly blessed in life. Prosperity is not always directly linked with monetary wealth, but I still felt that I wanted to live honorably and be responsible for my financial obligations, which had been pared down to the bare minimums for quite some time, just trying to make the ends meet. I didn't like being in that place, and I was often overwhelmed with feeling powerless to change much of it.  

Now for the past couple months Shane has been looking at different cattle ranches, trying to find something that would suit our family and circumstances better. Moving away from my family and this area was not very enticing to me. But I felt that if it was the right thing for us, I would be able to do it.

One weekend, Shane went to Oregon to look at some ranches, and I stayed to move some cows with my family here. I rode out with my mom to help with my uncle's cattle drive, and while we were driving, we talked about the whole "looking for a ranch situation." I remember telling my mom that "I had had the feeling we were going to move somewhere for a time. I didn't know where or for how long, but I had been having that feeling for awhile."

But along with that feeling was a feeling of disappointment. I didn't want to move away from my family and my home. Shane was in overdrive looking at ranches, figuring numbers, talking on the phone, making these big plans, and yet, my heart was NOT in it. There was no spark in it for me. I kept wondering, "If we are supposed to move, why don't I feel the same energy about it that Shane does?" I started questioning that initial feeling of knowing that we would move. Was I supposed to move just because Shane wanted to? Was the Lord preparing me for that? But I was struck with painful thoughts and questions that I didn't know how to answer. I wondered a lot about my role as a wife and how to best support my husband. But I struggled inwardly. Weren't my feelings just as important as Shane's? What if I didn't want to move? What about my goals and dreams? Shane felt that we were moving in the right direction. I wasn't so sure, and the guilt ate at me daily. Was this one of the times when I was supposed to blindly trust the Lord and it would all turn out in the end? Why wasn't I receiving the same confirmation as Shane? Did the Lord feel that it was necessary to give me one? Did I need one? Yes! I firmly believed that if the Lord wanted me to do something as big as uprooting my family and moving "far" away [read 'far' as in Oregon or Montana], He would not expect me to do it without a confirmation that it was what I was supposed to do. I felt that I was important enough, as an individual, and not just clumped in with my husband, that I could receive my own answer. And so I kept waiting. 

Elder Quentin L. Cook stated:
Heavenly Father and family are inseparably connected. When we understand the many dimensions of this connection, we can begin to comprehend more completely how personal and individual are Heavenly Father's love for and relationship to each of us. Understanding how He feels about us gives us the power to love Him more purely and fully. Personally feeling the reality, love, and power of that relationship is the source of the deepest and sweetest emotions and desires that can come to a man or woman in mortality. These deep emotions of love can motivate us and give us power in times of difficulty and trial to draw closer to our Father. (Full talk here)

The Lord was truly merciful to my unsettled heart. How could I have ever doubted that my Heavenly Father did not know me individually and knew what was best for me. He had something in mind, something far better than I could have ever imagined!

About 2 weeks before Christmas, Shane and I were sitting down one evening after the whole nightly bedtime routine. Shane was flipping through his livestock newspaper he gets every week, and I was probably picking up toys. We ran across a classified advertising for a job in Russia. We had seen it before, several times, and Shane often teased me that I should have gone on to vet school, because I could have been a vet for a company in Russia. We also laughed about it and then went on with our day. But this time, we said, Why not? They are also offering positions as a Cow/Calf Manager. I had the degree they wanted, and Shane had the experience. So we decided to apply as a team. It took me about a week to pull together our resumes, references and everything. There were several small miracles in that process such as finding my diploma, finding contact information to critical references, getting a family picture, etc. The whole time I worked on our application, I had the feeling we were going to get the job. I sent it off. We got a call from the company in Russia 2 days later, offering the job, and we accepted.

I love this quote from Elder David A. Bednar:
"The Lord's tender mercies are the very personal and individualized blessings, strength, protection, assurances, guidance, loving-kindnesses, consolation, support, and spiritual gifts which we receive from and because of and through the Lord Jesus Christ. Truly, the Lord suits 'his mercies according to the conditions of the children of men' (D&C 46:15).

Faithfulness, obedience, and humility invite tender mercies into our lives, and it is often the Lord's timing that enables us to recognize and treasure these important blessings." (Full text here).

This was really an individualized blessing for me--a tender mercy for my troubled heart--and because I had been so focused on this issue, I could recognize the Lord's timing in our lives, and I have been blessed because of it. 

I know that there will be challenges and trials during our 3 year contract. We haven’t even gotten there and we have hit some bumps in the road. The first major bump is that they want Shane to go first for 1-3 months for a trial period to see if he fits with the company and if he likes it. Then they will fly the rest of the family over. There are so many questions with the house, the van, how are we going to communicate, how do we get three little girls to Russia in one happy piece? If I focus on all the questions, I get doubts and fears creeping in, but if I go back to the feelings we received when we’ve prayed about it, then I know the Lord is taking care of us. He can see more than we can. He can see the big picture, so we can trust Him that He will also take care of the details.

So, a little bit about the job.

We will be working for Miratorg. They are currently the #1 Pork producer in Russia, and are on their way to becoming the #1 producer in Beef as well. By the end of the year they will have approximately 100,000 head of beef cows.

We will be in the Bryansk Oblast, or province, of Russia. To brush up on your my geography, this region is horseshoed by the Ukraine and Belarus, so it is on Russia's western edge, bordering the European block.  

• The Bryansk province has a population of more than 1.3 million. The two closest cities we will be dealing with and their populations are listed below:

Pochep	Почеп	17,064
Trubchevsk	Трубчевск	16,342 (source)

• There are 33 letters in the Russian alphabet, which is Cyrillic based. For your viewing pleasure, I've inserted a lovely chart below,  [via].

We are going to have fun learning this language. Haha. I decided that if I was going to be there, I was going to do all I could to immerse myself in the culture, including learning the language. There is a good chance I will be homeschooling the girls for a variety of reasons, so I hope they get enough proper exposure to the language so I won't mess them up too badly. They will probably be teaching me Russian by the time we are done.

The closest connection to the Church is the Russia Moscow West Mission Branch, which I believe is located out of Pochep. From what we can gather, there isn't even a branch in our area. I know there is at least two other families there that are members, so we are hoping we can open a branch in our area.

The closest temple is the Kyiv, Ukraine Temple. Mapquest apparantly doesn't know how to give me directions from Bryansk, or even Moscow, to Kiev, so I'm not sure of the distance. Roughly 300 miles, if my map measuring is correct.

We are super busy getting ready and ironing out details, but we are excited for this adventure.

So, in response to Rain's question, the answer would be: "Yes, we are moving to Raja!"

Pummeled

About a week before Echo was born, I wrote the following in a post:

 "I feel pretty accomplished when I can get three square meals on the table, [the dishes washed], a load of laundry done, and a path through the toys cleared in one day. But that doesn't get you "ahead" anywhere. I'm barely holding back the tide and I'm afraid once the baby comes, I'm going to get pummeled."

Well, folks, it's true. That about sums up how I feel lately. Pummeled.

The house is a wreck. I haven't done my dishes tonight or picked up any of the toys. I didn't do a single load of laundry today. I slept through breakfast, (we got home at 3AM from a trip, and the baby was up by 7-ish, so I don't hold it against myself too much), I don't remember if the girls really had a lunch, and a last minute trail ride foiled dinner plans, so the girls ate cereal.

In the time I spent tonight "unwinding" from the day, I could've easily done two loads of laundry, washed the dishes, AND picked up the living room. Or balanced my checkbook, written out the bills for next month, entered receipts for the business, mended something from my Mend Pile Mountain, edited the website, exercised, or tackled any one of the projects that have been mentally and emotionally eating me alive. But I didn't. Instead I just mulled over things that I know I need to do, but just don't ever seem to do them. I have so many ideas of how I want to clean, organize, decorate, and yet no idea/motivation of where to begin. I decide on one area to work on, only to find out there are "prerequisites" before I can really do them, so they are left undone altogether.

To make matters worse, I'm addicted to staying up late. I love sleep! I WANT to sleep, NEED to sleep, SHOULD sleep, and yet I still find myself puttering away those nighttime hours, strictly because they are my own. No interruptions (for the most part), silent, bliss when I can just be ME. I know it creates a vicious cycle, because I will be unproductive and irritable tomorrow, longing for a few minutes alone, which I know doesn't come until everyone else is asleep again. But still I do it.

It's a humbling and frightening realization that being responsible/a mom/a wife/etc is harder than you ever imagined. I had great plans and expectations of how I would be an awesome mom, a cherished wife, have a cute home, and still have time to cook, clean, and create like a super hero. And if I didn't finish everything I was supposed to that day, I wouldn't go to bed until I did. Because super heroes don't need sleep, either.  

I don't mean to be a negative, depressed, woe is me, dark cloud of despair kind of person. I know it never solves anything. I really do have so many things to be grateful for. And here are just four of them.

I guess I relieved a little guilt tonight, being late and all, because after 2+ months, I finally wrote a blog post.

Of Mice and Rattlesnake Guts

Last Monday, we returned home from a family trip to Idaho, which I may or may not blog about. I make no promises, therefore I have no guilt. Anyway, upon arriving home, I was greeted by several unpleasant things. One being a very large, still-soaking wet dog piddle-puddle on my carpet. How it got there, and how it was still so wet, remains an unsolved mystery since I beat ALL the dogs into the house. The second unpleasant surprise was a certain dead smell I encountered in my kitchen, around the area of my stove. We've concluded that it is a dead mouse in our wall. There is a vent behind my stove into the garage and it must be somewhere in that vicinity because no amount of poking or prodding under the stove or in the vent has been successful in producing the mouse. The smell has gotten better with time, except when the heat from the stove heats up the wall. Any suggestions on solving my problem are welcome.

Now on to the second half of my title, which no doubt got your attention. The other day, Shane killed a very large rattlesnake at the barn. It had 13 buttons on his tail, but you can tell there were more than that; they had just worn away. I haven't seen a rattler that big in quite a while.

Exhibit A: 13-button rattler

Anyway, that was last Wednesday. This past Sunday, we went to visit Shane's family. Somehow that rattlesnake had gotten hauled down from the barn area to their yard and had ripened horrifically over the next four hot, summer days. We did not notice this little factoid until all the dogs had proceeded to roll all over in it, and smear the most putrid rotten-gut stench all over into their coats. I put my foot down when it came time to load up and go home, since we had all ridden in the van. There was NO WAY I was letting those dogs sit in MY van. I told Shane they could stay at the barn for a few days until the scent wore off. That was all good and fine until Shane opened the back of the van for something and quick as a whistle, Sadie jumped in. Shane hauled her out, but the damage was done. We drove all the way home with the windows down and the AC on full blast, but it was no use. The girls were both sitting in the very back and Rain kept telling me the whole way home, "Oooh yuck! I smell rattlesnake!" 

So there you have it--lessons learned. Febreeze, anyone?

Mesa - Two years old!



Petting the first foal of the season.

Mesa turned 2 on May 1st. Wow! We had a family baby blessing and dinner in Cane Beds that day, so I didn't have a cake ready for Mesa yet. Hopefully, I can remedy that before May is over. But I think she would forgive me if I don't. We went to her Well-Baby Check up last week and thankfully she didn't have to have any shots. (We are good until she's four--yay!). She had woke up with a slight fever that morning so she was a little grumpy at the appointment. When they were trying to test her blood pressure (or something) she sat still for a moment and then kept telling me, "I'm done!" But she was a good sport and she is growing incredibly.

Her Stats:

Height: 3ft 1.5in (37.5")       Percentile: OFF THE CHART!

Weight: 35 lbs                    Percentile: OFF THE CHART!

Just for fun, Dr. Bowman projected her height and weight numbers as a three-year-old. She is in the 75th percentile for height and weight. That means she is bigger than 75% of all other 3yo children! and she just turned 2! The Dr. wasn't too worried because she is consistent for height and weight. She's just a big girl, but she is balanced.

It's been a tradition in my family to do inkprints of our hands and feet on our birthday every year. It was a highlight growing up, so I've continued with my children. We did Mesa's hand and feet prints and of course Rain had to do it too, so here is a snapshot of Mesa and Rain's prints next to each other, done on the same day. Can you tell which print belongs to each girl?

Rain's is on the left, Mesa's on the right



Mesa is tough, caring, and obedient. She is also very strong-willed, loves her daddy, and loves cooking with mom. She always asks to sit on the potty, but as soon as you get her on it, diapered or not, she says she's done. One of these days I'm just going to grit my teeth and potty-train her. I don't think it will take much. She already has a pretty good handle on the concept.

Chillin' with Daddy

She loves singing, Sleeping Beauty, playing Ring-Around the-Rosies, Follow-the-Leader, and Fee-Fi-Fum (Which means riding on mom's back like a cowgirl or dinosaur or something). She likes to say the prayers, read scriptures, and loves her nursery leader, Sis. Chamberlain. She literally will not let Shane leave until she gets there. Mesa loves to eat her food, and when she's done, she'll usually finish Rain's plate as well.

Reading books with Rain

When her feelings are hurt or she just woke up, she wants to be held constantly, which is challenging because I am usually feeding the baby, holding the baby, or cooking/cleaning when those time arise. Also, refer back to her height and weight, and you'll see why I don't hold up very long lugging her around.

Sleeping peacefully.
One of my favorite things to do before I go to bed is look at each girl sleeping.

She just recently decided she doesn't like the door closed at night and insists on "Rock-a-baby" at naptime and bedtime. And she does many things in multiples: she has to have three binkies at bedtime, or hold 2-3 sippies at a time, use a fork and a spoon at the same time etc. We love our little Mesa girl and are so happy she is in our family.

Echo Dawn

Finally! I didn't want to post pictures of our beautiful little baby if I couldn't attach a name to them. But now that we have the official birth certificate back with a finalized name, I can post these.

I really appreciate my sister jumping in and helping me with these pictures. I've always wanted to have an infant photo shoot, but I didn't really know how to go about it, and I really didn't have the energy to stop and do it. But Shado stopped by, and on the spur of the moment, she threw some things together to bring over. It was just the motivational boost I needed. The more we played around, the more creative we got. We are by no means professionals, but I had such a fun time doing them, and the important thing was that we did it. So thank you Shado, these wouldn't have happened without you.



Echo Dawn Stotlar



Sleeping under Daddy's hat



Watchin' over Baby



One of my favorite props we found to use.



Just peacefully sleeping

Playing around with some photo editing

Oil painting   =)

Belated, yes. But Happy Valentines Day!

We were really getting creative at the end. "Little Island Baby"

The rest of these are just different variations of the poses. I couldn't pick favorites.

Sweet dreams, lil' cowgirl!

Already lassoed my heart

This rocking horse was her great-great-Grandma's!

Brrr. It's cold, Mama.



She let us play with her for probably 4 hours and she just slept through everything.



Are you done yet?

ZZZZZZZZZZ

Boots and Saddles! All ready to ride.

Just a little note about the cute boots in these pictures. My good friend Janessa made them for my little girls. She is so crafty and talented. You can hop over to her website and see the other cool things she and her sister make at Huckleberry Hazel or her cake website. Amazing!

Sleeping on Daddy's hat.
We decided the hat band was too pokey to make her sit in the hat, but she would've fit.

Echo just had her 2-Month Well-Baby Checkup and here are her latest stats:

Height: 22-1/4 inches     50th percentile

Weight: 11 lbs 1.5 oz     50th percentile

   Head: 15 inches            Who knows?  =)

Echo has been a very sweet, mellow baby. She is usually very happy, with only a touch of colic now and again. She is very smiley and interactive, and she typically gives me a good 5-7 hour stretch of sleep every night. She already loves her sisters and loves it when they play with her. We love her so much!

Sweet baby girl

So, I've started this post in my mind a dozen times in the last three(!) weeks. Each version had a different beginning depending on my mood, the latest happenings at home, or something funny that had struck me. But since you can only have ONE beginning to a post, and here it is a whole three weeks since the baby has been born, I decided I had better just sit down and write it. Even though I JUST drew hot water to wash the dishes that have been piling up since yesterday and I can't stand washing dishes in lukewarm water so I'll end up draining it and refilling it, AND even though I was up late and slept half the night in the armchair so I should be napping during this blessed naptime, AND even though I have been dedicating every other awake (and coherent) moment that isn't filled with my children and all that entails to finishing the ranch's taxes so we can get on to filing our own. I'm still going to write this post.

*Disclaimers: Sorry for all those who have heard my story and this is a repeat. And apologies to anyone who doesn't like birth stories, you can skip the rest of this post and catch the next one, oh, probably in another month at my pace. =)

Monday, January 24th started with the regular rush of the day. We got the girls up and ready so Shane could drop them off at my parents while he did chores and we went to my appointment at 9:15 that morning. While he was gone I got ready and wondered anxiously what my appointment would tell me. All week I was secretly hoping that my water would break or at least start leaking, or I would be super dilated at my appointment, or I would start getting painful contractions. . . just SOMETHING that would give me a sign that it was time, that my body was ready, that the baby was ready, and that the end was near. I went a whole week after the doctor stripped my membranes with nothing happening (and no, it didn't hurt to get them stripped, at least in my case).

So, we went to my appointment to see where I was at this week. I was dilated to 5 cm. In my mind, I'm thinking, "What!? Only a 5? Seriously? I need more than that to go on." On the other hand, the nurse was saying, "Wow! That's great! Most women only get to a 2 on the exam table, and you're already halfway there!"

So the question remained: What am I supposed to do? I technically still had 2 more days until my "due date." Should I stick it out the remaining two days, or in the end, is it really not going to make a difference? I'm already a 5 after all. My doctor looked at me and asked, "So, what do you want to do? Do you want to set up an appointment to break your water on Wednesday if you don't go before then?" Gag. Can I really stick it out for two more days? If it was the right thing to do, of course I could.

Then the doctor continued, "Or we can go get you set up right now. I could break your water, and you'll probably have this baby by noon."

The proposition sounded frighteningly appealing. Maybe too appealing. It sounded so selfish to just say yes right then. Instead, I looked pleadingly at Shane for an answer, but his eyes only reflected my own feelings of I-DON'T-KNOW. So I said I would go home and think about it. "But I might be back," I finished lamely.

We went out to the truck each mostly lost in our own thoughts. So, I called my mom. I talked to her the whole way to her house to pick up the girls. I just poured out my jumbled thoughts, worries, etc. I wasn't sure if I wanted to pick up the girls yet because if I decided to go ahead and get my water broken, I didn't want to have to pack up the girls and drop them off again somewhere. It was easier to just leave them where they were, without even letting them know we were done "going to the doctor said". So, we just parked by the road leading to my parents' house while I finished talking to my mom.

She said, "You are the mom. You are the one doing the work, so you can decide. Don't let everyone else's opinions about what you should or shouldn't do sway you. You know your body and what is best. You are the one that has to do all the work, so you get to decide. And you don't have to decide right now. Go eat some lunch or something." It was good advice.

We stopped and talked to my sister. Shane called his mom (a nurse). I tried to call my aunt who had just had her baby. Everyone obviously had their own thoughts and opinions. Finally, we just went home and decided to talk to the one who really mattered. After talking together for a moment, we prayed about our decision. . . We were going to have a baby that day. I remember still having a lot of questions and doubts, but I felt a peace that told me everything would be okay.

Shane cleaned up the kitchen a little for me (I didn't want to leave a messy kitchen) while I finished packing my bag and called my parents to let them know what we had decided. I called my doctor to let him know I was coming in and asked where he wanted me to go. He almost sounded surprised and asked if I was having contractions. I said no, that I was just going to have him break my water, "unless that doesn't work for you." I added. He said, "Oh, well, let me see if they have a room for you."

That kinda shook my resolve for a moment. I had finally decided to do this and then it felt like I was forcing the issue. I waited while he called and sure enough, the (only) birthing room was available if I wanted to go in then.

After a quick stop at Subway (I was starving, okay?) we headed to the hospital. I scarfed down about a 1/3 of the sandwich before I gave the rest to Shane. I was still hungry, but I was trying to avoid any embarrassing moments during delivery. We went to the front desk of the hospital and the nurse asked if she could help us. I was a bit dumbfounded, "Uhh, we're here to have a baby today?" I said with a question in my voice, like can't-you-see-I-have-this-abnormal-bump-on-my-belly-and-I-would-like-it-removed. So then she asked if we had pre-registered. "Pre-registered? Uhh, no?" At this point, I was thinking it was a good thing it wasn't an emergency or I might have had a hard time remaining calm during the whole situation. "See if we have room for you?" "Pre-registered?" I just wanted to have a baby.
Finally, paperwork signed, yet another lovely hospital gown donned, IV inserted, monitors beeping their existence, table with instruments prepped and covered, and cue doctor.

1:00 PM: The doctor breaks my water. Liquid clear. All looks good. He says he will be back to check on me later. I get unhooked from as many machines as possible, braid my hair, and start walking the hall outside my room. It's always amazing the myriad of feelings that hit me almost predictably during labor. Before everything starts, it is a whole lot of anxiety and fear. Once my water it broken, I get a wave of "Let's do this!" and I start walking. With gusto. I am certain I looked like I was ready to run a maternity marathon or something as I made my circles up and down the hall, carting my IV stand with me. Shane gave up trying to keep up with me, so he sat down and called family to let them know I was at the hospital. I texted family while I walked to let them know there was no turning back at this point.

1:30 PM: Contractions start coming. Nothing major, I can still walk through them easily enough. Shane runs back to the house for my insurance card which I had forgotten and to stop at the hardware store. I'm sure whatever it was he needed at the hardware store was something very critical and desparately needed to help me deliver a baby. =) While he was gone, the contractions start to come in waves, one hard one, one or two small ones.

Shane gets back about the time I start slowing down for each contraction. I look at the clock on my cell phone each time a contraction comes--2:05, 2:07, 2:09, 2:11, 2:13, 2:16. I start to lean on the wall through each one and focus on breathing.

2:30ish PM: My nurse comes back to check on me. After a quick check, she says I'm between a 6 and 7. She hooks me back up to the monitors so the doctor can get a good reading on the feed that is monitoring contractions when he comes back. I lay in bed for awhile watching the contractions come and go and reading the numbers on the monitor. 20 is "zero". By the time it hits 30, I can feel the contraction growing. 80 is killer. I start to relax and look for the release at about 56 as the contraction ebbs away.

I'm not sure what to put here: "No, I'm not scowling at my belly," or "I didn't know Shane was taking a picture," or perhaps, "Just watching a contraction." You choose.

After getting some good feed on the chart, I get unhooked again so I can be mobile. Yay! Freedom! I try to stay out of bed and off my back as much as possible during labor. The pain is so much more bearable when I can move at will. My nurse offers a birthing ball, which I had thought about using if I had the chance. It was nice being able to roll through some contractions. I thought it helped sitting on the ball.  

3:50 PM: My doctor comes to check me. I'm an 8! I have to go to the bathroom. Again. While I am trying to accomplish this while dodging contractions, I can hear my doctor talking to Shane: "Probably another 45 minutes and we'll have a baby somewhere between 4:30 and 5:00." On the other side of the door, in my mind, I'm thinking, "Please don't put a timeframe on this. Don't tell me I have to do this for 45 more minutes. Just say, 'We'll have a baby soon' and I will keep holding on for one more minute, one more contraction. But don't tell me I have to do this for 45 more minutes!"

I come out of the bathroom and my doctor has been replaced with my nurse. She is actually from my ward and I was so glad she was my nurse from start to finish. I really enjoyed her. She had been warned that I deliver fairly quickly which was why the instrument table was prepped and covered right away, rather than waiting until I was "closer". She also kept telling me that if I "felt ANY vaginal pressure" to call her right away. She reissued the warning as she left the room and said she would be back to check soon. I decided to get back on the birthing ball and try to muddle my way throught the next "45 minutes". I walked from the bathroom door, but only made it the foot of the bed before another contraction hit. I gripped the handrail, and suddenly I felt a moment of panic, as an intense urge to push came and I literally felt the baby coming. In a moment of panic I put my hand between my legs and said, "Oh no! I think she's coming!"

If there was any doubt in my mind before about what the nurse meant when she said "any vaginal pressure," it was gone and it was pretty clear to me, this baby was coming out. Shane jumped up and buzzed the nurses who came rushing in. Like a whirlwind, they started prepping the room and one said, "Call the doctor. Get him down here right now."

I protested and said, "Well, don't bother him. He said it would be another 45 minutes. I don't want to call him for nothing." He had been gone barely 5 minutes, if that.

"Oh no sweetheart. It's better to be safe than sorry," the other nurse replied.

My doctor rushed in the room, smiling. "That was a quick 45 minutes! Let's check and see where you are at. Can you get on the bed?"

That was precisely my intention, but it was slightly challenging trying to get my body to listen when it was so focused on delivering the baby at that point. But we succeeded in getting on the bed.

My efforts were rewarded when the doctor checked me and said,"Yep, you whipped right open. You're there. Can you give me 30 seconds to get dressed?"

"I think so," I replied trying not to push. But the doctor was already trying to get garbed up for delivery. Within a matter of seconds, it was showtime. Off goes the end of the bed, out come the stirrups, and the last of my modesty goes out the door. But I didn't care. I was going to do this. And I was going to do it well. I wasn't going to fall apart between pushes like I did with Mesa. I wasn't going to stop holding my breath and pushing until my 10 seconds was up and I was going to focus. I could feel my contraction coming, so I verbally prepared myself: Chin down to chest, hold my breath and push for 10 seconds. Three times for each contraction.

So, deep breath and push. One contraction and her head crowned. The doctor asked if I wanted to keep pushing, but my contraction was leaving, so I said I would wait for the next one. He said, "I think we can get her here next push." I hung onto that thought. Sure enough, next push and her head was out. The cord was around her neck, so we stopped and cut that before delivering the rest of her.

Time of birth: 4:10 PM. A mere 20 minutes from the time the doctor checked me and said I was an 8, to baby born.

A little bit blue in the face from the cord being wrapped around her neck.

Brand new!

Hospital stats:

7 lbs. 15 oz.

21.5 in

We did it!

We did it! And I say 'we' because Shane was right there with me, holding my hand through each contraction and giving me strength when I needed it most.

I was so worried about so many things that really didn't matter in the end. She was a whole pound lighter than Mesa, even after two extra weeks of incubating. She just really wasn't ready to come out yet. It really reaffirmed to me that the baby and your body know best and that she really needed to wait those extra two weeks. 

Rain and Mesa meeting their new sister. What fun! Three girls: ages 3 and under!

The girls came to say hello (we found out later they weren't supposed to come to the hospital because of RSV season, but oh well).

Rain taking care of the baby.

Rain has quickly adopted the "mother" role and says she needs to take care of her. She loves to give her kisses and rub the hair on her head. She likes to hold her and always watches in case her binky falls out so she can put it back in her mouth.

Mesa thought she was interesting at first, but is struggling with relinquishing her "baby of the family" role. If I am holding the baby, she won't let me touch her. She will be crying and won't let me give her a hug until I "mose baby" (move baby). She also asks me to "care" (carry) her more these days. I hope we can adjust soon.

Meeting Paca and PacaMa - my parents.

And alas, we still have not named her. Shane could have named her at the hospital, but I am still having an internal struggle with feeling right about her name. She is so sweet and mellow. I have lots of feelings bottled up inside about her, but nothing that can translate into a name yet.

Getting bundled up and ready to go home!

Stay tuned: Up next--Photoshoot!