Strawberry Picking 2010

As the Curtis clan loaded into the van this morning, B wished me well. "This could either be a fun adventure or a very, very bad idea," I retorted.

I took all 5 kids to Gretna (about 40 miles away) to pick strawberries. It felt like the right time to go, since rain is forecasted for much of the next week and it is already the end of the strawberry season in VA. I wanted to wait for B's accompaniment, but all the May weekends were full. I thought of asking a friend along, but there isn't any room in our van AND my friends have their own children (and therefore wouldn't really have free hands to help me with my own).

So... we did it!

We picked about 16 pounds of strawberries (most of them delicious and red, but some of them... not so much).

We arrived around 9 a.m. and left around 10:30. It took longer than I anticipated, maybe because all of the children visited the port-a-potty. T went at least four times. The last time, as we walked up the hill (again!) he said, "I love a porscha-potty."

The 8 year old was immensely helpful. He probably picked the most berries. He apportioned the berries to proper container, carried them and generally did the heavier, manly work of the morning.

The 6 year old was not helpful. It would have been a great morning for some training on diligence, if things were a little different. He wore a bucket on his head. He slipped in some mud. He was off galavanting in unauthorized rows. I never saw more than 5 strawberries in his container. He was quick to unload whatever he picked into other people's containers (or directly into his mouth!). The ONE great thing I praised him for was taking T to the potty (though T didn't go and as soon as they got back from their long excursion I had to take T AGAIN).

The 5 year old was sweet and generally helpful, much better than last year. She started one row and picked all the way down it (at least the red, easy to spot berries). She even held M in the van for a few minutes while I tried to quickly top off our buckets with two hands.

The 2 year old... well, I already said where he was most of the time. He did, however, also have really sweet moments of picking beside me. I would point out berries and he would pick them, carefully removing all of the hull before placing them in his bucket. I liked that he wasn't just picking any old berry and he also wasn't eating every single berry he picked (unlike another child; guess who?). And, of course, he kept up a constant monologue: "Mommy. We're strawberry picking. We're in the strawberry field. I love you, Mommy. I'm glad to be with you. I'm a good picker, right?"

No pictures this year (too much to ask!). . . but good memories, none-the-less!

T with M

T (2) talks the entire time he is holding M (which is usually not that long, but he wants to do it often). It goes something like this, every time:

Ohhh, M.
I love you.
You're my brother.
I'm the big brother.
You love your big brother.
Mom, I'm holding M.
He loves me.
I'm holding him so he doesn't get away.

Easy Oatmeal Pancakes

Weekends are for pancakes. Even when M was 1 week old, I was up making pancakes for everyone on a Saturday. The steaming pile of warm cakes on the table makes me happy. Each of the kids has a small (medicine) cup of syrup to pour over their pancakes. Usually there are rabbit, cat, or fox pancakes on the stack, with ears and blueberry eyes. I'm learning everyone's preferences. B doesn't like to eat blueberry pancakes, but he likes blueberry sauce on top. O likes to eat his pancakes with an egg sandwiched in between. I like an egg beside, yolk and syrup mixing. Any way they are, we all like them and it seems a treat to linger over hearty pancakes.

This recipe is similar to our whole grain pancakes, but with fewer grains it seems to come together faster. I grind the oats in our coffee mill to make oat flour; I also grind the flax in the mill.

Easy Oatmeal Pancakes

1 and 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1 cup rolled oats
1 cup oat flour
1/2 cup ground flax seed
5 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
2 Tbl. honey
4 eggs
2 cups kefir (or buttermilk)
1 and 1/2 cups (coconut or almond) milk
4 Tbl. coconut oil
2 tsp. vanilla (optional)

1. In a bowl, combine first 7 ingredients, make a well in the center, and set aside.
2. In another bowl, whisk together honey, kefir, milk, eggs, oil, and vanilla.
3. Mix wet ingredients into dry ingredients. Pour batter onto heated griddle, cooking until bubbles form and then flipping and cooking until golden brown.

Makes approximately 24 pancakes.

When the Two Year Old is Sick

Vomit trails from L's bedroom rug to the bathroom, down the hall. He tries to catch it in his hands, so his hands are full of it. Then, he grabs the potty with those hands, yet still can't understand my insistent instructions, and continues to vomit on the floor. (I'm nursing the baby, by the way.) He looks down and seeing his hands, begins to shake them off. He's stomping his feet in fear and frustration, walking in throw up and escorting it around the bathroom. He notices his clothes are messy and begins to cry for me to "Clean me up, Mommy!" Even in my horror over the mess, my heart melts at his innocent distress.

Nap time is long and quiet. When he wakes up, he calls for me from the top of the stairs, as usual. After I give him permission to descend, I hear him quickly stomping down the stairs. "Where are you, Mom?" he calls. As soon as he sees me, he exclaims, "I'm not sick anymore! I feel GREAT!" Apparently, he is correct, for most of the afternoon goes on as usual. He even eats dinner with us, though he also asks to be excused early, stating simply, "I'm tired. I want to go lay down."

I love two year olds.

On Infant Mortality

This is just a snippet, but I really like it- especially because one of my midwives is on it! Good fodder for thought.

Advice For My Sister

Because I think there ought to be some benefit to having an older sister, I've decided to put down some thoughts tonight. My own sister may or may not appreciate this (though she is expecting!), but I know that if I don't post. . . I'll forget it all myself! So here are some of my thoughts, 3 weeks postpartum.

1) Read! Read while you are pregnant. (You'll forget a lot of it anyway, if your pregnant brain is like mine!) Find good books like The Thinking Woman's Guide to a Better Birth and The Secrets of the Baby Whisperer and The Ultimate Breastfeeding Book of Answers. (See my doula friend's website for a more comprehensive list of great reads.) You can reread these books when you're nursing or resting (or jiggling your baby!), but it's better to have some foundational knowledge before you find yourself trying to undo habits you unwittingly formed.

2) Know that natural childbirth is painful, but it is also exhilarating and will be an experience unlike and unequaled by anything else in your life. You can do it! Having a friend or midwife or doula or spouse who can encourage you and remind you of this is so valuable, because you will wonder whether or not you are going to survive.

3) Having a baby isn't very messy, but it can be messy afterward. You will bleed and cramp. Your breasts may leak. You may have stitches. It's kind of like having your period with an abundance of hormones to boot and another whole set of issues going on with your mammary glands. No one told me this and I do wish I would have known.

4) You will still have a belly even after having a baby. After your first baby, it won't be so much of a belly as after subsequent children. Three weeks out, I still look like I'm about 5 or 6 months pregnant. This takes awhile to change. In fact, I'm still wearing maternity clothes because they are most comfortable, or clothes that are generally too big for me.

5) It is NOT a good idea to try on your "regular" clothes, even if people are telling you that you look great. Even though I weigh 17 pounds less than I did before giving birth, my thighs haven't changed enough to allow my pants to make it to my waist. On a day when I'm feeling pretty good, this can be a harsh dose of reality.

6) The mask of pregnancy and the linea nigra will go away, but these, too, take time. (The main advice remains: give it time!) Stretch marks don't really go away (so I hope you've been using good lotion or oils!).

7) Have oil on hand for the baby's bum. This time we used jojoba oil. Put it on with the first diaper and the meconium to come will slide right off. Otherwise, you'll have a hard time removing the "tar" from the bum.

8) Bath-schmath. If the baby has vernix, you can gently rub it into their skin. You can easily clean them with a small cloth, but probably will not need to. Baths dry out babies sensitive skin- and do you really think they need it?

9) Clip their nails; don't use the little mittens. Okay, this is just a preference of mine... I'd rather count those precious fingers and feel them grasp my own than cover them with fabric to prevent scratches. It's easy to clip nails in the beginning because the baby sleeps so much; just clip when they sleep! (I'm practically full service; I file as well.) Plus, why deprive them of the sense of touch?

10) Rest when the baby rests. I know, we hear it all the time. . . but really. Do it when you can. When you only have one baby this is much easier to do than when you have multiple children (requiring one well orchestrated afternoon nap for everyone). Resting while holding the baby doesn't necessarily count. I think it's probably not our best rest when our mommy brain is still on auto, making sure we don't drop our sweetie.

11) Grandma told me that it's okay if the baby cries. SO, if you need to shower or go to the bathroom or get a drink... it's okay. If the baby cries when you have put them down for a rest, it could just be a resettling between light and deep sleep. If you rush in, you may inhibit their learning to put themselves back to sleep. If you can wait for just a few minutes (watch the clock because 1 minute will seem like 10), you may be pleasantly surprised by silence.

12) Put meals in your freezer, if you can. These really are helpful to pull out on hectic nights when the baby cries from 5 p.m. on and you feel too frazzled (or at least your arms are too busy) to make dinner. This is easy to do by doubling a few recipes each week.

13) Maintain your health. I still use my pitcher of water so I can keep track of how much I'm drinking. This is especially important when nursing, yet I often feel too busy to get a drink. (How silly to be too busy to take care of myself!) Keep eating your JuicePlus! Maintain your healthy eating; you're still eating for two and even developing your baby's taste preferences by what you eat.

14) Have thank yous on hand before the baby comes so you can pick them up in quiet moments and work on them.

15) Read up on vaccinations and breastfeeding, especially. Your decisions on these things will affect how often you visit your baby's doctor in the first few months. If you know your pediatrician and their philosophies on wellness before you run into troubles, it will save you time and stress. (We once thought our doctor was pro-breastfeeding and were discouraged when he quickly advised us to use formula to boost L's weight, instead of suggesting ways to increase milk supply.)

16) Use a lactation consultant! If you've read my "re-latch" post, you'll know why I encourage this. If you start right, you'll save yourself lots of pain! I always thought nursing would be natural and easy to figure out. (Insert nipple into baby's mouth- can't be too complicated, right?) Apparently, I was wrong- and I love learning new things.

I know there are more... but it will have to wait for another night when I have 40 rare minutes like I did tonight, without a baby in my arms or children on my lap or a phone to my ear. But the most important advice: love it. Live it fully! Embrace the wildness that is labor and birthing and having a baby. It is so precious, so splendid! So wonderful. I love that we share this now, too.

New Normal

Two weeks already since we welcomed M to the family. Amazing all that happens in those first days and weeks. His cord fell off. His skin peeled. He had his first bath. He was circumcised. He healed. We went through packs of diapers (already!). He outgrew the smallest clothes and gained over 1 pound. Nursing picked up and feeding went from a 40 minute affair to a 10 minute blitz.

We made new rules, like "if M is on the blanket then NO ONE else can be on the blanket" and "you must ASK before you put your finger in M's mouth."

I've been "sleeping in," getting my best sleep between 5:30 and 7 a.m., when I would otherwise have been doing laundry, making breakfast, and getting everything ready for the day. (Yes, this has serious implications!) Part of me wants to heed the advice to "take it easy" and to rest... but the rest of me wants to do some laundry and swish the toilets and make oatmeal bars and clean up around here so I CAN relax. It's too easy to do too much, but I don't know how much is too much until I've overdone it. Nursing is the forced rest that I truly feel the Lord has built into this season. I must sit (at least I try to stay seated!) and look at my baby and talk to him and have conversations with the other children and drink my water. I've come to appreciate these moments!

I've only taken a few walks (this photo was the 1 week walk with my Christmas present Baby Ergo). Yet I feel so light that jogging sounds really appealing. We've had help with the kids on many days these past 2 weeks and meals every other day. What a huge blessing! Truly, our church family and friends are our family here and we are so grateful for the community of believers surrounding us, giving so generously of themselves.

Our new reality is that it takes longer to do things. I intend for us to leave at 10 and it's actually 11:15 when we get out the door. Instead of going to the market at 7 a.m. this week, it was 10. M doesn't love being strapped into his car seat, so I'm not planning many errands (and starting to question our 18 hour trip to IL next month!). For the first time ever, I sent the 8 year old (with very specific instructions) into the post office to mail a package so I could stay in the van with the other four children (including the crying baby). This was incredibly successful; I'm thinking we'll employ this tactic more often.

L and T are sleep deprived. They are up later than normal and still waking up early (by 6:30 a.m.). L has been so excited about M that every day has been like her birthday (with singsong voice and skipping and general, uncharacteristic euphoria).

R had his cast removed on Tuesday. I was a bit miffed to spend from 2:15 until 5:15 at the dr.'s office (with R (6), T (2), and M), especially since we only spent about 5 minutes with the doctor at 5 p.m. He was told to use the crutches for a few days as he began to use his foot more, but to stay away from skateboards and bikes and trampolines for a few weeks. Now, five days later, I'm really wondering about his recovery time. As busy as I am with M, when I watch R walk I am shocked. Much as I loathe returning to that physician, we will have to if R's walking does not improve. He continues to limp around, using mostly his right toes instead of putting weight on his foot. We would appreciate prayers for his healing and full recovery.

Nutrition as a Weapon

"No therapy or drug known to modern medical science can rebuild tissue that has been damaged by disease or trauma. Food alone can accomplish this feat. It is for this reason that nutrition is an indispensable weapon against disease".
Dr. Bernard Jensen (1908-2001)

Hopelessly Helpful

I have two helpers who overwhelm me with their helpfulness.

L (5) loves to be by my side as I nurse M. If I seem to be dallying, she'll lift my shirt and unhook my nursing bra. She eagerly grasps M's hands to keep them back so he can latch. Then, she'll rub his head and pat his back and talk to him while she waits for her "turn" to hold him again. She also loves to pick out his clothes in the morning.

T (2) is much the same, although he isn't as interested in the nursing. He made it his particular job this week to help me with diaper changes. I'm so glad for the extra hands (and legs!) that run for the diaper and wipes. He also took charge of applying the Vaseline to gauze pads, even going so far as to carry the Vaseline around in his pocket all day, so he would be prepared. (This was actually good because it kept it nice and warm!)

Sometimes I feel a bit smothered with all this attention that M is receiving. It's like having three squirmy children on my lap; two cooing "M, oh M!" and one grunting and fussing for his needs to be met. But oh, the love!

The Six Year Old's Perspective

R (6): "Mom. When do you have to milk him again?"

The Re-Latch Key for Me

We have five children. I nursed the first four and had come to believe that, despite what the lactation consultants say, breastfeeding does hurt. I've come to loathe the term "proper latch" because it felt so elusive and vague. Each time I nursed a new baby, I knew to expect several weeks of pain and discomfort from sore nipples and engorgement. I have vivid memories of nursing my last son, wincing as he latched on and crying through the feeding. A dear friend of mine says that every mom should give breastfeeding at least six weeks before they quit; it may take that long to feel good about it (or just to feel good!). I distinctly remember calling her and crying that it had already been four weeks (or so) and I still wanted to quit- but I wouldn't.

Even through the pain, I am committed to nursing my children. This is why I am so grateful today, ten days after our fifth child was born, that nursing is not painful this time. I'm grateful AND surprised. I’m not wincing, using lanolin or cold packs, or crying through feedings. Laurie (my doula friend and lactation consultant) was the difference for us. Having her at M's birth allowed me to start off nursing him with a correct latch, helpful tips, confidence and hope that this time would be different. She changed my perspective because even though M didn't open perfectly wide, with his lips flanged and everything just so (no "perfect latch"). . . we were still able to nurse. Once M is on the breast, I simply take my finger and move his bottom lip. This works! I'm calling it a re-latch.

In the past I was frustrated because my babies didn't have a proper latch and it felt so difficult to change it (if I could even identify what was improper about it!). They would become frantic to eat and I would be anxious to feed them. When they would latch on, if I thought it looked basically right and even if it hurt . . . they were eating and I felt a measure of success and it felt WORTH IT, worth the pain I was feeling because at least now my baby was quiet and satisfied. I could hear the milk flowing and I felt I was doing the right thing, feeding my baby. It seemed unbearable to take them off the breast to fix their latch. It was heartbreaking to do this over and over! I would often try to change their lips, but without a firm idea of my agenda or the assurance that I could train my baby to change his latch.

I'm so excited that I can "fix" M's latch while he is on the breast. He isn't frustrated; I'm not frustrated. I can feel the difference when I don't move his lip, and I like that there isn't pain when we've adjusted. If only I knew five babies ago that I could latch and then re-latch while the baby was still on! It would have saved me much time, discouragement, and pain. Plus, a good latch means that the baby is actually able to get more milk. Maybe this will have an effect on my milk supply, which tends to wane around month six.

I'm so grateful that Laurie offered support those first few days of M's life. Because of that, I never experienced the pain that had become normal for me with the other children. It was much easier to focus on nursing without already having painful nipples. B always says that what is good for me right now is good for everyone. Our entire family is better off because Laurie helped us start nursing well, and we’re so thankful.

I COULD Rest, but I'd Rather Look at This. . .

On Pork, Pizza, and Personal Conviction

If you ask the men in our house, pepperoni would be their first choice for a pizza topping. (I'm known to want as many veggies as can possibly be piled on!) B and I have talked at length about what the Bible has to say about clean and unclean foods. About two years ago I became convicted in my spirit that I wanted to follow the Lord's directives about every aspect of my life, believing that the Author of life knows best how I ought to live and believing that my Redeemer has good intentions for me in His law. This is when I spent a good deal of time in Leviticus. I also read The Maker's Diet and What the Bible has to say about Food. I decided that I would no longer eat pork (ham, bacon, chops, pepperoni, or any of it), nor shellfish. The exception for me is that when we are guests in someone's home and pork is the main dish served, I will partake. (This is both gracious as a guest and reveals my faith that God can sanctify the food.) B feels less strongly than I do about this, but has been willing for me to make the change for our family in what I purchase. So, even though they may choose pepperoni when we are out, they have other toppings at home (and everyone's favorite topping is cheese!).

I was poking around tonight as I nursed M, and found a terrific blog post by a Christian. This is an excerpt, but the entire post is here. I highly recommend this as a quick read but thorough overview of this topic.

Hallee says: "We aren’t purists. We just are following God’s guidelines understanding that the reason they are in place are for our own health and safety. And when we follow them, we’re acknowledging the Author of the law in a grateful and worshipful way. Because He is the mighty Creator of the heavens and the earth and is worthy of all acknowledgment, worship, and praise."

More First Photos

Birth Day Story

This isn't intended for everyone. If you don't want the details of a birth story, please skip this post! It is good for my memory, however, because I forget all of this. It is good for me to think about it and recognize the Lord's hand and to know that He sustains us through all things. Please forgive errors; I'll probably need to correct and edit this again. I've worked on this post for several days now but have been unable to complete it to my satisfaction... so I'm going to post and then change it if I find time/energy!

Friday I woke early with a migraine headache and contractions. Even though I got up and took a shower, I felt terrible. My body was shaking and I vomited. B and I weren't sure if the pain of the headache was causing the distress, or if the contractions were contributing (which would indicate that I really was in labor). He called the midwife (Leslie), who came over and gave me the best migraine headache care I've ever received. Another friend took the children, and I was able to rest in the dark with heating pads and ice packs, peppermint, and advil in my system. By about 10 a.m. I was feeling much relieved and B and I took a walk. At that point we decided that I would try to take it easy for the rest of the day, but that labor didn't seem imminent. (I was about 4 cm dilated at this time and 50% effaced and the baby was at 0 station; this was nearly identical to what I had been 10 days prior.) I went to the chiropractor that afternoon, hoping that would help alleviate the remaining migraine. I had been twice in the last month or so and was hoping that the adjustments would be beneficial for labor, too. (She said she thought the baby would be born in 3 days- Monday.) T and I took a nap together before B and the other kids got home from the friend's.

Interestingly, all the neighbors had noticed the midwife's Volvo at our house in the morning and must have been watching the proceedings. I think four of them called us later that day "just to check in." One was setting up for a yardsale the next day and I went over to visit with her. It was nice to sit outside in the cool of the evening and rest in her lawn chair. Next door we had new neighbors moving in. It felt busy on our quiet little street, and I realized that our homebirth was also a bit of a neighborhood birth this time.

Saturday was gorgeous here, and very warm (80s). Even though the whole day stretched before me (we hadn't made plans for this particular day!), I was restless. L and I went to the downtown farmer's market at 7:30 and picked up a few things. B and O did the yard work. I swept the steps and the walk, but felt myself running low on steam. A neighbor stopped to chat and I wished I had somewhere to sit. Spent some time in the kitchen, using leftovers to make soup for lunch that we ate outside, and preparing pizza dough for dinner. I thought about making more food to put in the fridge, but my back was aching a lot and I noticed contractions; I didn't feel much like standing around in the kitchen. (It was disappointing to me that my back would ache so much just the day after the chiropractor. Friday was the best my back had felt in awhile and Saturday was much worse.)

T and I pruned the Crepe Myrtles out front. While we were working on the trees, a neighbor came over to chat. He commented that we reminded him of Little House on the Prairie; that I was going to be outside working right up until the baby would be born. We laughed, especially because I was on hands and knees getting dirty and sweaty, yet even then I felt my energy waning. . . and the trimmings were left in the grass.

B was gone for several hours that afternoon, mostly during the children's rest. He went to give plasma, which we knew would be about a 2 hour affair. As the 2 hour mark came and passed, I found myself restless again, wanting only to sit and drink water, and the kids were missing Daddy. I noted several stronger contractions and my back was still aching. When B arrived home I kidded him that he shouldn't have been unreachable by phone for so long when I was past our due date.

The rest of the day passed pretty much the same way: I was tired and feeling heavy and restless. We visited friends briefly in their home, which was a pleasant diversion from the normal Saturday house chores (that I wasn't doing well!). My friend promised me that "the baby WILL come" and I told her that is exactly what my midwife says.

After dinner I sat with the children on the couch, with a heating pad for my back. I had asked B if he would show us some old home videos of the kids when they were very young. (Another pleasant distraction for me!) My neighbor came over to ask me some questions about homeschooling; she also wondered how I was feeling. I told her I just couldn't see feeling like this for three more days, that all day I had felt different than I remembered feeling during other pregnancies. Surely, I must be nearing the end (I thought!).

Once the children were in bed, B and I looked at each other and wondered aloud what we should do. I had been sitting at the computer and halfheartedly noting contractions during the time that he was tucking kids in. I told him they were about 8-10 minutes apart. He wasn't very concerned, but nothing sounded good to me. I closed the computer and decided that I would take a shower and go to bed. B remained downstairs.

I continued having contractions and back pain while I prepared for the shower. "Ow," I would say aloud. This continued while I was in the shower, which is when B came upstairs to check on me. I heard him climbing the stairs and O leaned out of his bunk, opened his bedroom door, and informed B, "Mom is having lots of contractions, Dad."

B stood in the bathroom, listening to me and timing a few contractions. "I think you should call Leslie," I said.

"They are still about eight minutes apart," he said. "You're like clockwork."

"Well, I think you should call her," I persisted. "They don't hurt like this unless I'm going to have a baby." At this time, I had finished showering but was still in the water, leaning over and saying "ow" through contractions. He called Leslie (the midwife) and my friend Katy, who was coming as support and also learning midwifery assistance.

Katy came a few minutes later (she only lives a few blocks away). I had gotten out of the shower, put on a tank top, and asked B to brush my hair so I would feel more presentable, but nothing more. I was still in the bathroom, leaning against the sink during contractions, cracking jokes and chatting with B and Katy in between pains. Leslie arrived and listened to the baby; things sounded great.

Everything that happened next is a blur to me. I know Leslie's assistant arrived and helped to set up all the birthing supplies. I know my friend and doula, Laurie, arrived. I was encouraged by Katy and Laurie's gentle words. B was faithfully applying pressure to my low back through each contraction. I remember saying to B, "Did I ever tell you that I hate this part?" (speaking of the contractions with back pain) and I also remember saying, "There isn't much of a break now." As the contractions came wave upon wave, I wanted to sit on the toilet (typical of all my births). Instead, I tried the birthing chair. I liked the handles and it was fine for awhile (I have no concept of time then), but then I felt like I didn't want anything near my bottom and I asked again for the toilet. Leslie suggested I try hands and knees instead. "Sure; nothing is comfortable!" I said.

Once I was on hands and knees I felt it was all I could do to breathe and work through the contractions. I was moaning (and counting the seconds in my head!)and trying to think opening, relaxing thoughts. My body started pushing while hands pressed my back, and applied hot compresses to my belly and perineum. I wanted to watch, but felt like my eyes closed to the pain and to focus my strength and energy. No one told me to push, no one ever checked my dilation; labor simply took over. I remember Leslie telling me that the baby was crowning and asking me to "blow. Eeek your baby out." I looked, but couldn't see well. There were wonderful sounds of triumph as his head emerged and I felt the quick flip of his body following. . . .

And there are no words. I lack words for that moment. The joy. . . the exhilaration, the exhaustion, the elation. . .

Miles was born at 10:31 p.m., 35 minutes after the midwife arrived. (I heard later that she had whispered to everyone, "This could go fast.") The amniotic sack was still intact when his head emerged; Leslie broke it. Everything was amazing; he was wonderfully perfect. Smaller than I imagined he would be. He had a loud, lusty cry right from the beginning, which caused me to think of the children, sleeping in their beds. I wondered if any of them had woken, but they hadn't. Placenta was delivered in the bathroom, then Leslie gave me three little stitches in our bed (after an episiotomy with O, I've torn in the same place with every birth). The midwife and all of the women did their amazing work, taking care of everything quietly and efficiently. I had motherwort and chlorophyll and arnica and was cleaned up and settled. They all left by 1 a.m. and B and I tucked Miles into a laundry basket and all went to bed. L woke shortly after that (when we were still awake) to use the bathroom. B called her in and she peeked into the basket. We had several quiet, wonderful minutes with her enjoying Miles; it was so very precious.

Everyone slept until nearly 7 a.m. on Sunday. As the boys woke, we called them in to look in the basket. I will never forget the way their eyes lit up with surprise and delight; it was exactly like the wonder of Christmas. And it felt it to me, too. Wonderful, unbelievable, miraculous. The beginning of something new and deliciously special. Too much to take in. Too much to adequately celebrate. And we praised the Lord. And I'm leaning on Him and praising Him still.

First Photos

Here are some of the first photos of Miles, mostly from the morning after he was born, when the kids were all surprised and delighted. L calls him "MY baby." T calls him "My best friend, Baby Miles."

Stats

Miles Andrew
born May 1, 2010
10:31 p.m.
6 pounds, 13 ounces
20 inches long

Miles (Latin: soldier; English: merciful) Andrew (valiant, courageous).

He looks most like R and T, with dark hair and ears like B's cousin Mike (bike blog below) and something about him that reminds us of my cousin Andrew (middle name sake). He was smaller than any of the other boys at birth, but is healthy and term, sleeping and nursing like a champ.

All praise to our Father!

Boy In Cast, Relaxing