gratitude

I am so grateful I now know what it feels like to be cared for by a midwife and a doula.
I am so grateful that I was given a chance.
I am so grateful somebody believed in me, my body, and the power of birth.
I am so grateful I was the first person to hold my baby, without interference of drugs, IV's, nurses, or 'necessary' newborn procedures.

I am so grateful I was able to nurse my baby in any position, without worry of an incision.
I am so grateful my husband was there every step of the way to share this experience with me, never being forced to leave my side, or having to choose between me or baby.

I am ever so grateful I was able to walk, use the bathroom, and even shower right after delivering - what a treat to not be confined to a bed for a period of time due to surgery.
I am extremely grateful I was able to eat at my leisure after giving birth - even though the only thing open was fast food, sure beats having to be on a liquid diet for several days.

I am so grateful I was able to laugh without pain after my baby was born, great big belly laughs without worry of my insides spilling out.
I am so grateful I was able to introduce our new baby to his siblings in the comfort of our own home, my own bed, not even an hour after he was born, and I know this is the reason they were so quick to hug and kiss and just love him right from the start (I even had an offer to babysit from the 3 year old :)
I am so grateful we were able to spend our first night together in the peace of our own home, no beeping machines, night nurses, or nursery.
I am so grateful that it was my husband who was taking our vitals.

I am so grateful that I now know what it is like to have a baby naturally, the way God intended.
I am so grateful there are wonderful people who were willing to support me at home for a vaginal birth after two Cesarean sections.
Ultimately, I am so unbelievably grateful for you.

Thank you for making my dreams come true.
Thank you for changing my life.
Thank you for giving our family new life.
Thank you for being you.

Birth works.
Thanks to our midwives and doulas out there who make it possible.

a birth story, the beginning

Where and how to begin. We found out we were expecting our third blessing back in September. We decided to keep it quiet, and let Alynna celebrate her first birthday in October. Fast forward through several months of phone calls, messages, referrals, etc. and after calling every doctor and hospital within a 50+ mile radius, I was still facing a repeat c-section, which would be my third. I could not bear the thought, and even now I have a physical reaction just saying those words. I began to find some hope in talking with people about homebirth, specifically homebirth after cesarean, commonly referred to as HBAC. I was given the name of one midwife from several different sources, and I would stare at the name and number, phone in hand, several times. I just couldn't get myself to do it, so I emailed. We did eventually talk on the phone and she was wonderful, and was the first person to offer me the opportunity to have this baby naturally, at home. (I believe she is only one of two in the state willing to take on HBA2C clients.) Wow, really, this homebirth thing again? Is that the only option? Homebirth was definitely not something I was at all familiar with, so I hesitated yet again. I had been dragging one of my oldest, dearest friends through this crucial decision making process with me via phone conversations, when she finally knew to ask me the tough questions. "Michelle, do you see yourself going in to the hospital to have your baby cut out of you for the third time?" My response: "I would rather walk outside and birth this baby under a bush before I willingly sign myself up for another c-section knowing both baby and I are perfectly healthy." Well, there you have it, the decision was made, and the appointment was set. Josh was still understandably on the fence (and frankly I was still hanging onto it too) because homebirth isn't a decision you come to only because you have no other options, is it? Well, indeed it was and I am so grateful I was 'forced' to look into it further. But on the way to the first appointment I cried most of the 45 minute drive because I could see clearly where Josh stood on the subject, and I hated that it seemed that our appointment was simply going to be a waste of the midwife's precious time. But something changed during our magical time in her office. There we were, kids playing perfectly at our feet, Josh and I asking question after question and pouring out part of our heart and soul in the process to two of the most patient, informed, and skilled women I have ever met - the midwife and her student in training. I cried on the way home, too, because I knew we had found our answer. But what would our families think? Scratch that, what would MY DAD think? How do you explain that you just know deep down with every fiber of your being that this is what is right for you and your family? Especially when everything out there seems to be so far in the opposite direction, leading others to question our sanity for even exploring such a thing. Sure, we did our own research and tried to share our findings, but these are not matters where you can meet people in the middle. Our scientific selves interpreted the data, and it was clear that a natural childbirth after two cesareans was the much safer option for me versus a repeat (elective - funny they call it that even though they leave you no other options) cesarean. Sure, my previous c-sections were fine (minus the anesthesia wearing off during the surgery incident) and my recovery was great all things considered. But I honestly just felt like I was playing Russian Roulette signing up for a third. There had to be a better way, and we stumbled upon it. I can only say that we knew God was paving this path for us because everything just fell into place. A team was assembled, almost too easily, and we knew that God had brought us all together for a purpose, this purpose, a child to be born, a small miracle, our miracle. So began the journey.

it's all about flexibility

Today I feel like I feel like the scales have tipped and I have a lot more to complain about than be thankful for. Everything seems to come with a bottom line. Yes, I am thankful I have a wonderful and loving husband, who is on yet another trip after five whole days at home, and will have been gone 24 of the last 30 days, yeah. Yes, I am thankful we live in a great house in a great neighborhood, only 3,000 miles away from my closest family and friends. Yes, I am grateful I have two bright and beautiful children, who haven't napped all week - well, to be fair I have to say haven't napped in their own beds. But come on people, they are one and two years old, napping is not an option, especially when Josh is away and that is the only chance I get to eat, sleep or spit. So, they got some car naps in last week due to the Christmas errand shuffle, but now that it's cold out, the car naps always present a problem once we actually get home. Yes, you could try carrying them in ever so delicately, holding your breath as you attempt to transfer each to their bed. Of course it is always precisely at that time when the phone rings, or the horse of a dog barks next door (which, if you've actually ever seen the 5' x 7' 'side yards' here, you'd understand why this is a problem. The first time I thought the dog was actually in our house, I kid you not I was on my way to scoop up the kids.) So, car naps are not my favorite, although I guess I could just go sit in the car with them, after I grabbed the computer of course - because even though I could have fallen asleep standing up all day, the minute they close their little eyes, mine open a little wider, and I start thinking a little clearer. Hmm, car naps may be a good thing for the blog come to think of it. Well, I've resorted to putting them in the stroller. Yes, it's cold, but maybe that's part of the reason it works (don't worry, I throw a blanket or two over them, and I even usually make them wear their winter coat ;) Best of all, I can wheel the stroller in the house once they're out! You know, so I can not do dishes, laundry, mop, all those things I say I would be doing if they napped. Don't get me wrong, I haven't completely given up on the whole sleeping in their own beds thing, but after an hour and a half of singing, counting, reading, rocking, and finally just laying on the floor in hopes that a snoring model might send the message, we're all ready to give up. So, it was back to the stroller today. As I was observing the frost on the ground I wondered if this time it was maybe a bit too cold, but I was on a mission, and they were already looking limp. Amongst the frostbitten greenery, there was a few of those little plants that have those red balls on. Maybe they were berries, who knows. I actually didn't even notice the plants at first because they were all sprawled out flat on the ground, until I saw this one perfectly shaped circle popping up, like a little wreath. I actually first thought it was a Christmas decoration. Then I realized this was one of the only ones left standing probably because it did allow itself to bend, into a quite perfectly beautiful full circle, complete with little red ball decorations and all. Isn't that so true of life? We always need to be willing to bend, in order to avoid breaking. This helped me to see that I need to bend as a mother, in order not to break, or have a breakdown, however you want to say it. So, in life it's not so bad to bend, because the end result just might be that you're the only one left standing. Maybe by bending we're allowing God to shape us as he sees fit, even though we might not understand the reasoning at the time. I could only imagine what the little plant was thinking as it started resembling the loop on a roller coaster, while all it's buddies starting laying down, playing dead. Although if you're reading this Lord, please know I'm not as flexible as I used to be...

a mushy mess

So, I've decided it's perfectly acceptable to bake cookies at 9am, as long as oatmeal is incorporated (never mind the dark and white chocolate chunks added for the appropriate sugar rush affect). I won't even mention how I justified making puppy chow at 8am last week (but it's not so bad when you realize I'd been up since 4 thanks to a toddler rebelling against time zone differences.) Back to the chewy, gooey, oatmeal, chocolaty perfection that was, well, anything but. Funny how my baking skills have declined in a way that is directly proportionate to the number of children I have, which is the same for my brain capacity as well, I'm sure. I still remember how to read, I used the right ingredients, I made sure nothing extra was added (or taken away) by my pint sized prep cook, but still they flopped. Running over the sides of the pan, dripping to the bottom of an oven that still smelled of the fresh plastic it was packed in when we moved in just a short month ago. I'm sure the fact that I was over zealous when it came to forming these masterpieces had nothing to do with them spreading out to 5+ inches and overflowing off the pan. Well, maybe a little. But that certainly didn't explain all of their short comings. They were a mushy mess, with golden brown edges, no doubt. Since I was unable to actually keep any in their proper shape while scraping them off the pan, this left ample opportunity for me to taste test, or so I tried to explain to my two year old. Fortunately (or unfortunately) enough, their taste was still superb, and I ate just enough to cause my teeth to actually start hurting - I wish I was kidding. But then I realized something. I have a lot in common with this mushy mess of wanna be cookies sitting on my counter. I have all the right ingredients, after all I am wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14) in His image (Genesis 1:27). Most days I feel like nothing more than a mushy mess, closely resembling someone from the show What Not To Wear (and I'm not referring to the hosts), but to God I still taste sweet. I still have all the right ingredients. I am once again reminded that where I see a work in progress, He sees perfection. Take it one step further. Maybe it's not such a bad thing to lose our shape and form, then we may be more ready and willing to accept the one God has picked out for us already. Or in the case of the cookies, the shape and form didn't matter, they still tasted amazing, just as they were supposed to.

God Gave Us... Blog Tour

God Gave Us Christmas and God Gave Us Love by Lisa Tawn Bergen

You may recognize this author from her previous best selling book, God Gave Us You. The stories are just as sweet as the illustrations. In God Gave Us Love, Little Bear and Grandpa begin a conversation about different kinds of love while on a fishing trip. Grandpa patiently answers all of Little Bear's questions, and goes on to tell him of a God-size love. To learn more or purchase this one, visit here.

God Gave Us Christmas provides such crucial information for little ones during this holiday season. Little Bear begins to ask questions about Christmas and Santa, which provides an opportunity for Mama to teach him about God, and the true meaning of Christmas. Through this warm story, they conclude that Jesus is the best present of all. To learn more or purchase this book (it would make a great Christmas present!) try here.

My son, Caleb, has just adored these books. In fact, I think he brought them to us everyday the first week we received them. I have a very vivid memory of him even requesting their reading during his beloved bath time! Thank you to WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group for providing our copy of these books!

Treasured Blog Tour

Treasured
Knowing God by the Things He Keeps
written by Leigh McLeroy

Thanks to WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group for providing me with a copy of this book. Here's the summary.

In Treasured, Leigh McLeroy considers tangible reminders of God’s active presence and guides readers in discovering evidence in their own lives of his attentive love.

“The idea for the book came from a cigar box filled with odds and ends of my grandfather’s life that arrived a few months after his death. Sifting through the objects in the box, I experienced him in a fresh new way. This made me wonder what treasures might be tucked away in Scripture that could frame God for me in an equally intimate, tangible way. This process also helped me uncover my own “treasures” of my walk with the Lord: objects that remind me of my history with him and his faithfulness to me,” says McLeroy.

Drawn from the pages of Scripture, the author considers twelve such treasures and personalizes their meaning for readers, such as a green olive branch that offers proof of God’s “new every morning” mercy and a scarlet cord that demonstrates his willingness to adopt “strays” of every sort.

Weaving these treasures together with scenes from her personal history, Leigh McLeroy invites readers to discover God’s heart for them and embrace their unique role in his redemptive story. Treasured offers readers a guided experience of God’s love and character and invites them to consider their own treasures that point to their part in God’s ongoing story.

While reading this book, at times I felt like I was having a devotional right here with the author. With such vivid, honest and even humorous examples from her own life, it's hard not to relate. She also offers new insight to well known bible stories, as well as relevant parallels to her own life. It is nice to be reminded that God is in the small stuff, down to the very last detail, and Leigh McLeroy takes us on a journey through scripture to show us exactly that. Whether it be a fig leaf, a fresh olive sprig, or a bloodstained piece of wood, God is in the details. For me, this book has sparked an interest into a more historical and thorough understanding of scripture (although don't tell my husband, he might start thinking I'll want to watch the History Channel or something!)

To find out more or to purchase this book, try here.

numero dos

Yes, this is actually my second blog. But I promise to love it (or ignore it) just as much as my first. I prefer to keep Life's a journey... not a destination as more of a scrapbook for us. This new creation, Strive for Simple, is born out of the need to have a separate place to write reviews, and to share our interests of living simply and naturally, with God as our numero uno, as well as future endeavors such as homeschooling. Enjoy! If anything else, this blog may serve as a great cure for insomnia.