I have often said I am a walking contradiction. This is true in many aspects of life, including where I want to live. I'm a farm girl trapped in a city girl's life. I want to live in the country...but I also want to be close to everything. A bustling metropolis isn't for me, but a smaller one is. I dream of having a small hobby farm one day, though. Living sustainably off of my own land.
In that mindset, I've teamed up with my reluctant but accomodating husband to create an urban homestead. The first project? Chickens! I've loved chickens since I was a kid and my great uncle let me play with baby chicks on his farm. And who can resist a fluffy chickie?
Turns out that urban chickens are gaining popularity. I was surprised to find entire web communities dedicated to backyard chickens. Last year many of the moms in our local babywearing group began discussing keeping chickens. I was interested, but looked on with envy, still dreaming.
Fast forward a year. After lots of convincing, begging, and pleading (yep, I'm an only child! lol) we decided to get chickens. Kelton and I agreed on 2. No fancy ones; he wanted normal chickens. I took my very excited 4 year old, and headed to the farm store. We got 2 Rhode Island Reds at our local farm store. Fluffy little chicks that took up residence in a cardboard box in our living room. One is still there. Sadly, Nugget was a rooster, and he's now living with my family in Oklahoma.
Twinkle is about 7 weeks old and almost completely covered in beautiful auburn feathers. She loves to sit with us, and go out in the yard after the dogs are in to scratch and search for bugs, leaves, and any other goodies she can find.
Now, one chicken doesn't do well on its own. Kelton tried telling me the rabbit and chicken could he great companions. But I wanted chickens for pets...and eggs. First eggs, but all animals are pets for me. I have too big a soft spot for critters. So I was on the search for more chicks. I was going to order 3 from online, but couldn't get the breeds I wanted within the next 2 weeks. And I am impatient. I decided to look for older pullets who were already laying or close to it.
I found 3 white leghorn hens on Craigslist about an hour from us. Already laying an egg a day each. At $10 a hen, it was the same price as ordering chicks...but no waiting for eggs. I drove down to get them yesterday. Ugly birds, but we got our first egg when we got home...waiting for us in the cardboard box.
Kelton is still working on the amazing coop he's building, so the hens are living in a doghouse in the shed right now. They are pretty skittish. And dirty! They were kept in a pretty old coop, and given the ridiculously long length of their nails, they weren't let out to scratch. I gave two of the three baths tonight.
They seemed to like their baths. First you dunk the hen in a container with water and castile soap and borax. Then a second bath in water (not knowing if they had any mites or fleas, I followed recommendations and added a splash of bleach...next time I'll use tto, but I'm out right now). Finally, a rinse bath in a water/vinegar mix. I was expecting a mess, but the skittish birds seemed calmed by the bath. They weren't "madder than an old, wet hen" at all! After the bath they got taken inside and blow dried. Their feathers were very matted, and this fluffed them up nicely. Those nails got trimmed, as did their wings. They are kind of pretty now! And the two bathed hens seem much calmer and accepting of people then the one that's still needing bathed. I hope they become friendly and fun birds. And call, so we can let them free range when we're outside. They seems quiet, which is great since we're outlaw chicken keepers!
I think our 4 chickens will be a great jumping off point to teach our girls about sustainable living and responsibility. Anna-Lee already has her pink egg basket to collect eggs in. Along with hang drying our clothes, and our six tomato plants we need to transplant into the ground, our little mini farm is coming along great! I can't wait to make a tomato omlet knowing exactly where it came from- our own backyard!
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Goals
I love making goals for myself. It gives me something to look forward to, and something to keep me driven. I love making lists with my goals. So that's what this post is about.
Short-term goals (within 3 months):
-Lose 20 pounds
-Become debt free, except mortgage and student loans
-Make morning devotionals with the girls (and hopefully DH) a habit
-Give up the evil soda in exchange for 1 morning coffee and then water and teas
-Add more local food to our diets (hopefully including eggs from the two chicks currently residing in my living room!)
-Make a workable budget
-Learn to knit
-Find a schedule/routine that works for the girls and I during the day
Six month goals:
-Learn to ride a bike
-Get a new kitchen table
-Take a nice family vacation (God willing, in the camper we're looking at!)
-Spend more time with my mom
-Find a home church we all like, and attend regularly
One year goals:
-Read the entire bible
-Have my wrist issues taken care of, by surgery or other means
-Make a concrete plan for massage school
-Run a 5k race
-Start saving for and purchase a zigo leader bicycle (since Lucy will be big enough to ride at this point)
Short-term goals (within 3 months):
-Lose 20 pounds
-Become debt free, except mortgage and student loans
-Make morning devotionals with the girls (and hopefully DH) a habit
-Give up the evil soda in exchange for 1 morning coffee and then water and teas
-Add more local food to our diets (hopefully including eggs from the two chicks currently residing in my living room!)
-Make a workable budget
-Learn to knit
-Find a schedule/routine that works for the girls and I during the day
Six month goals:
-Learn to ride a bike
-Get a new kitchen table
-Take a nice family vacation (God willing, in the camper we're looking at!)
-Spend more time with my mom
-Find a home church we all like, and attend regularly
One year goals:
-Read the entire bible
-Have my wrist issues taken care of, by surgery or other means
-Make a concrete plan for massage school
-Run a 5k race
-Start saving for and purchase a zigo leader bicycle (since Lucy will be big enough to ride at this point)
Saturday, May 8, 2010
The birth of Lucy Navene
Prodromal labor set in at the end of February, at 36 weeks pregnant. I'd have hours of hard contractions that would pitter out to nothing. I wasn't too concerned. My other pregnancies lasted 36 and 37 weeks. Nobody expected me to go past 38 weeks.
38 weeks came and went. And as irrational as it sounds, it was at this point where I started to feel like I'm guessing other women do when they go past 40 weeks. I know that worries about personal topics and childcare for the big girls wasn't helping my body relax and focus on birthing.
39 weeks passed. I tried acupuncture. Nothing but the continued prodromal labor. I was becoming severely sleep deprived. Contractions started after the big girls were in bed, and did let me sleep until just a couple hours before they woke up. I was cranky. The Clary Sage oil I was using helps balance emotions, but mine were strongly leaning to the "raging psycho" side.
We come to 39 weeks 5 days. I freak out yelling at the girls for being too loud, then break into hysterical sobbing for having done so. I scared Kelton. I was exhausted, physically and mentally. I'd stopped answering the phone days before, and pretty much limited all communication to Facebook. Because its easy to ignore.
I went back to the chiropractor and he did acupuncture again. This time with 12 points instead of 6. When I got home, I took a nap. Woke up for a bath. I wasn't angry, but was still very weepy. I told Kelton if the baby wasn't here by Friday I was getting induced or committed one. And I didn't care which.
I took some tylenol pm and the big girls and I headed to bed at 9:30. I woke at midnight and got up to eat. I decided to vacuum while I was up. Since the contractions I'd had when I woke up stopped, I went to bed at 3 fully convinced that I would be pregnant forever. I prayed and journaled my worries to get them out.
At 7:48 am I woke up with a strong, painful contraction. The big girls were asleep, so I got up and took a bath. The contractions were 3-5 minutes apart, and the bath didn't relax them. They were getting progressively stronger, but I was able to breathe through them easily.
At just before 8:30, Kelton got home from work. I told him I thought this was it and he called the midwife. I had him get the birth ball and rocked on it. Contractions were getting stronger and I began to vocalize through them.
The midwife checked my dialation when she arrived. Even though I know it means nothing as far as labor goes, I wanted to know where I was. 4cm. This made me happy because getting to 4cm seems to be the hardest part for me.
I had some more contractions while the midwife set things up in the bathroom by the tub. Reese had woken up, so Kelton was tending to her. The midwife's assistant arrived and got me some gatorade. After this, her and Kelton traded off tending to the girls in Anna-Lee's room.
I had to pee, and had 2 contractions while doing so. My vocalizations were different, and I could feel my cervix dialating during contractions. When I was done, the midwife asked to check me again. 5cm. I thought at least 45 minutes had passed, so I was disappointed. The midwife had her assistant get the tub ready with more hot water.
I got in the tub. I started to get contractions on top of one another. The midwife was reassuring me, putting wet washcloths on my neck and forehead. Kelton was also by the tub, and I know during one contraction I had him do really strong counter pressure. After the 3 hours of strong back labor with Reese, he knew to do it much harder than most people would think a girl my size could handle. I felt her turn anterior. And then I felt pushy. I asked to be checked, because I pushed when I wasn't ready to push with Reese, and it made recovery harder. I was 7cm! A lot of progress in very little time. Maybe 10 minutes.
Shortly after, I started screaming that I couldn't do it. And even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I felt relief. This was my standard transition moment. With Anna-Lee, I asked for an epidural. With Reese I said screw an unassisted homebirth, call the ambulance. This time I just said I was done.
Contractions slowed. They were less intense, and I groaned during them, pushing. In between the midwife put cool water on the back of my neck and Kelton gave me sips of gatorade. I talked to Lucy, telling her we could do this, that she was doing a good job, etc. As I pushed, I visualized her coming down the birth canal.
After 2 or 3 pushes, I felt the "Ring of Fire." And almost started laughing, as the Johnny Cash song began playing in my mind. I could feel her head with my hand. I kept waiting to feel the POP! of my water breaking. It was something I distinctly remembered from Reese's birth; that sound. I didn't hear it. Her head was out after that contraction. I could hear the midwife's assistant telling the girls the baby was almost here, and heard them in the hall giggling. It was a rejuvenating sound.
Another contraction came. I reach down while pushing and caught her as she slid into my hands. I tried to pull her up to me, but had difficulty. The midwife pointed to the cord around her neck. We both reach down and unlooped it. It was also under her arm and between her legs!
She was here! I couldn't believe it. After almost 40 weeks, I had my baby. The pregnancy was difficult. Whiplash, morning sickness, chronic sinus infections, 2 cases of the flu, a stomach virus,spd, and prodromal labor. I'd enjoyed the other pregnancies. I'd survived this one.
Lucy latched on pretty quickly, and her placenta came out quickly without effort. We got out of the tub and the midwife checked me. A small tear, nothing requiring repairs. Lucy was checked out and was, of course, perfectly fine. We settled in on the couch for rest and snuggles. Kelton got me a protein bar and beef jerky. That, along with a shot of floradix made me feel better.
She was born at 9:58 am on March 23. 6 pounds 13 ounces and 18.5 inches.
38 weeks came and went. And as irrational as it sounds, it was at this point where I started to feel like I'm guessing other women do when they go past 40 weeks. I know that worries about personal topics and childcare for the big girls wasn't helping my body relax and focus on birthing.
39 weeks passed. I tried acupuncture. Nothing but the continued prodromal labor. I was becoming severely sleep deprived. Contractions started after the big girls were in bed, and did let me sleep until just a couple hours before they woke up. I was cranky. The Clary Sage oil I was using helps balance emotions, but mine were strongly leaning to the "raging psycho" side.
We come to 39 weeks 5 days. I freak out yelling at the girls for being too loud, then break into hysterical sobbing for having done so. I scared Kelton. I was exhausted, physically and mentally. I'd stopped answering the phone days before, and pretty much limited all communication to Facebook. Because its easy to ignore.
I went back to the chiropractor and he did acupuncture again. This time with 12 points instead of 6. When I got home, I took a nap. Woke up for a bath. I wasn't angry, but was still very weepy. I told Kelton if the baby wasn't here by Friday I was getting induced or committed one. And I didn't care which.
I took some tylenol pm and the big girls and I headed to bed at 9:30. I woke at midnight and got up to eat. I decided to vacuum while I was up. Since the contractions I'd had when I woke up stopped, I went to bed at 3 fully convinced that I would be pregnant forever. I prayed and journaled my worries to get them out.
At 7:48 am I woke up with a strong, painful contraction. The big girls were asleep, so I got up and took a bath. The contractions were 3-5 minutes apart, and the bath didn't relax them. They were getting progressively stronger, but I was able to breathe through them easily.
At just before 8:30, Kelton got home from work. I told him I thought this was it and he called the midwife. I had him get the birth ball and rocked on it. Contractions were getting stronger and I began to vocalize through them.
The midwife checked my dialation when she arrived. Even though I know it means nothing as far as labor goes, I wanted to know where I was. 4cm. This made me happy because getting to 4cm seems to be the hardest part for me.
I had some more contractions while the midwife set things up in the bathroom by the tub. Reese had woken up, so Kelton was tending to her. The midwife's assistant arrived and got me some gatorade. After this, her and Kelton traded off tending to the girls in Anna-Lee's room.
I had to pee, and had 2 contractions while doing so. My vocalizations were different, and I could feel my cervix dialating during contractions. When I was done, the midwife asked to check me again. 5cm. I thought at least 45 minutes had passed, so I was disappointed. The midwife had her assistant get the tub ready with more hot water.
I got in the tub. I started to get contractions on top of one another. The midwife was reassuring me, putting wet washcloths on my neck and forehead. Kelton was also by the tub, and I know during one contraction I had him do really strong counter pressure. After the 3 hours of strong back labor with Reese, he knew to do it much harder than most people would think a girl my size could handle. I felt her turn anterior. And then I felt pushy. I asked to be checked, because I pushed when I wasn't ready to push with Reese, and it made recovery harder. I was 7cm! A lot of progress in very little time. Maybe 10 minutes.
Shortly after, I started screaming that I couldn't do it. And even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I felt relief. This was my standard transition moment. With Anna-Lee, I asked for an epidural. With Reese I said screw an unassisted homebirth, call the ambulance. This time I just said I was done.
Contractions slowed. They were less intense, and I groaned during them, pushing. In between the midwife put cool water on the back of my neck and Kelton gave me sips of gatorade. I talked to Lucy, telling her we could do this, that she was doing a good job, etc. As I pushed, I visualized her coming down the birth canal.
After 2 or 3 pushes, I felt the "Ring of Fire." And almost started laughing, as the Johnny Cash song began playing in my mind. I could feel her head with my hand. I kept waiting to feel the POP! of my water breaking. It was something I distinctly remembered from Reese's birth; that sound. I didn't hear it. Her head was out after that contraction. I could hear the midwife's assistant telling the girls the baby was almost here, and heard them in the hall giggling. It was a rejuvenating sound.
Another contraction came. I reach down while pushing and caught her as she slid into my hands. I tried to pull her up to me, but had difficulty. The midwife pointed to the cord around her neck. We both reach down and unlooped it. It was also under her arm and between her legs!
She was here! I couldn't believe it. After almost 40 weeks, I had my baby. The pregnancy was difficult. Whiplash, morning sickness, chronic sinus infections, 2 cases of the flu, a stomach virus,spd, and prodromal labor. I'd enjoyed the other pregnancies. I'd survived this one.
Lucy latched on pretty quickly, and her placenta came out quickly without effort. We got out of the tub and the midwife checked me. A small tear, nothing requiring repairs. Lucy was checked out and was, of course, perfectly fine. We settled in on the couch for rest and snuggles. Kelton got me a protein bar and beef jerky. That, along with a shot of floradix made me feel better.
She was born at 9:58 am on March 23. 6 pounds 13 ounces and 18.5 inches.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Long time, no post.
I'm up right now, alone. Everyone else has given up their insomniatic ways. For a while, I joined them. But, being 27 weeks pregnant has its way of making that insomnia creep back up on you!
I'm listening to eggs tap-tap-tapping as they boil in the pan. I'm suddenly craving sweets, so am trying to up my protein intake. Needing protein makes sense to me, since my morning sickness returned about 2 weeks ago. Meat is pretty unappealing, so are a lot of eggs (egg salad sounds good, though), and one can only eat so many PB&Js before those become nauseating, too!
This pregnancy has brought a LOT of depression with it. I am assuming it has a lot to do with everything that has happened in the six (AH!) months since I've updated. There are a laundry list of bad things that have happened. But to list them would undermine the GOOD things that happened as well. Getting to see good friends. Playing in autumn leaves. Feeling baby kicks. Seeing my oldest's face light up when she feels the baby kick. A two year old hugging and kissing my belly and singing to her little sister (yes, we're getting blessed with another girl!). That same two year old, when NOT feeling baby kick, pushing on my belly yelling "WAKEY! WAKEY!" Embraces from those I love.
I've had to come to terms with giving up on massage school. At least for now, it's the right thing to do. I have lost my desire to fight. Maybe, after my wrist gets fixed (via surgery or other means), I will feel that pull on my heart again. Lord knows massage is still a big part of me. But I feel God bringing me to nursing school. I'm going to go talk to a local LPN program about enrolling. This is scary. Nursing has help appeal with me, but its always been scary, something I am not passionate about. To a certain extent, I'm still not. But I feel that that this is where God wants me. Out of my comfort zone. So I'm jumping off this cliff with my eyes closed and my heart full of prayers and faith and praying it goes well!
I am giving my two weeks notice at my part-time job tomorrow. I am in my third trimester and am finding myself needed to nest and be close to my family as much as possible. So I am looking forward to 2.5-3 months of crocheting, washing diapers, renovating the bathroom to put in our deeper bathtub before the birth, painting and decorating the house. All the wonderfully typical nesting things.
I am prayerfully trying to learn to become more present in my surroundings. I am always worrying over something, or dreaming of the future rather than learning to be happy in the present and in the moment I am in. I blame where I live for my unhappiness, and have my entire life. I've spent 20 years making plans to get out of this place. But...here I am. And God has a reason for me still being here. My job is to learn that reason and learn to be happy in Him no matter where I am physically.
It's why a lot of my nesting involves fixing the house up. I've been reluctant to do so because of my desire to get out of here. But having a home I feel cozy in makes me happy. So I am putting up pictures, decorating, and making this house a HOME. This excites me.
There is a turning point in our family. I feel it coming up. And I am not scared about it. I feel God's hand in it all. This excites me. It energizes me, and makes me feel like I can handle ANYTHING. I am interested to see what the future holds.
I'm listening to eggs tap-tap-tapping as they boil in the pan. I'm suddenly craving sweets, so am trying to up my protein intake. Needing protein makes sense to me, since my morning sickness returned about 2 weeks ago. Meat is pretty unappealing, so are a lot of eggs (egg salad sounds good, though), and one can only eat so many PB&Js before those become nauseating, too!
This pregnancy has brought a LOT of depression with it. I am assuming it has a lot to do with everything that has happened in the six (AH!) months since I've updated. There are a laundry list of bad things that have happened. But to list them would undermine the GOOD things that happened as well. Getting to see good friends. Playing in autumn leaves. Feeling baby kicks. Seeing my oldest's face light up when she feels the baby kick. A two year old hugging and kissing my belly and singing to her little sister (yes, we're getting blessed with another girl!). That same two year old, when NOT feeling baby kick, pushing on my belly yelling "WAKEY! WAKEY!" Embraces from those I love.
I've had to come to terms with giving up on massage school. At least for now, it's the right thing to do. I have lost my desire to fight. Maybe, after my wrist gets fixed (via surgery or other means), I will feel that pull on my heart again. Lord knows massage is still a big part of me. But I feel God bringing me to nursing school. I'm going to go talk to a local LPN program about enrolling. This is scary. Nursing has help appeal with me, but its always been scary, something I am not passionate about. To a certain extent, I'm still not. But I feel that that this is where God wants me. Out of my comfort zone. So I'm jumping off this cliff with my eyes closed and my heart full of prayers and faith and praying it goes well!
I am giving my two weeks notice at my part-time job tomorrow. I am in my third trimester and am finding myself needed to nest and be close to my family as much as possible. So I am looking forward to 2.5-3 months of crocheting, washing diapers, renovating the bathroom to put in our deeper bathtub before the birth, painting and decorating the house. All the wonderfully typical nesting things.
I am prayerfully trying to learn to become more present in my surroundings. I am always worrying over something, or dreaming of the future rather than learning to be happy in the present and in the moment I am in. I blame where I live for my unhappiness, and have my entire life. I've spent 20 years making plans to get out of this place. But...here I am. And God has a reason for me still being here. My job is to learn that reason and learn to be happy in Him no matter where I am physically.
It's why a lot of my nesting involves fixing the house up. I've been reluctant to do so because of my desire to get out of here. But having a home I feel cozy in makes me happy. So I am putting up pictures, decorating, and making this house a HOME. This excites me.
There is a turning point in our family. I feel it coming up. And I am not scared about it. I feel God's hand in it all. This excites me. It energizes me, and makes me feel like I can handle ANYTHING. I am interested to see what the future holds.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Life, like always, is rapid, fast-paced, and hectic. And I am learning to love each minute of it for what it is, not what I would like it to be.
Friday my parents' 31 year marriage officially came to an end. It had been over since December of last year, on their 31 year anniversary to be exact. I am grateful that the process is behind our family, and hopeful that I can start rebuilding my relationship with my parents as individuals instead of as a part of our family unit. Especially my dad. My mother and I have always been extremely close. My dad worked nights and wasn't around when he was home, so in many ways my life was similar to that of a child raised by a single mother.
My dad and I have had a strained relationship for most of my life. We never spent quality time together when I was growing up, and it was like living in the house with a stranger most of the time. I have, however, always respected the fact that he worked so hard to provide a good home life for our family. And when my mom's parents were dying, my dad was right there at their bedsides helping to care for them. I will always, always have tremendous respect for him for that. To use a popular term, he really "manned up" at that time. Then there are things about him that I cannot respect. But, there is always love there. And I feel that as sad as divorce is, it will give him and I a chance to start our father/daughter relationship over. I hope it will.
Last week I also was seen for my wrist. The pain was getting worse, and especially the numbness in my last two fingers. There are times where the pain is absolutely unbearable. Times that makes this natural-birthing mama want a wrist epidural if such a thing were to exist! My orthopedic doctor has me wearing a cast-like splint to bed for a couple of weeks to see if it helps release a nerve. If that doesn't work we'll look at other treatment options, up to and possibly including surgery.
Of course, with this going on, I haven't been able to do massages. And I was scheduled to start a hands-on massage class July 6th. One that included learning a 90 minute massage. If trying to give my husband a simple Swedish back massage can reduce me to tears, a 90 minute full body massage will definitely leave me doubled over in pain. So, with lots of prayers, lots of trepidation, and a giant leap of faith I made the painful decision to leave massage school. Whether this is a permanent thing or not is something that is only known by the Savior, and will be revealed to me when the time is right.
Now that I am not in massage school, I needed to figure out what I was going to do. I got my job back at the portrait studio. The studio location that I was originally at and that I adore working at. I am planning on beginning classes for a nursing program in the fall. I'd always intended on becoming a midwife sometime after massage school, so that just got moved up.
Things are changing, and I'm not usually good with changes. There has been a lot of prayer and a lot of faith going on to get me here. Now it's just waiting to see what these changes mean in the long term.
Friday my parents' 31 year marriage officially came to an end. It had been over since December of last year, on their 31 year anniversary to be exact. I am grateful that the process is behind our family, and hopeful that I can start rebuilding my relationship with my parents as individuals instead of as a part of our family unit. Especially my dad. My mother and I have always been extremely close. My dad worked nights and wasn't around when he was home, so in many ways my life was similar to that of a child raised by a single mother.
My dad and I have had a strained relationship for most of my life. We never spent quality time together when I was growing up, and it was like living in the house with a stranger most of the time. I have, however, always respected the fact that he worked so hard to provide a good home life for our family. And when my mom's parents were dying, my dad was right there at their bedsides helping to care for them. I will always, always have tremendous respect for him for that. To use a popular term, he really "manned up" at that time. Then there are things about him that I cannot respect. But, there is always love there. And I feel that as sad as divorce is, it will give him and I a chance to start our father/daughter relationship over. I hope it will.
Last week I also was seen for my wrist. The pain was getting worse, and especially the numbness in my last two fingers. There are times where the pain is absolutely unbearable. Times that makes this natural-birthing mama want a wrist epidural if such a thing were to exist! My orthopedic doctor has me wearing a cast-like splint to bed for a couple of weeks to see if it helps release a nerve. If that doesn't work we'll look at other treatment options, up to and possibly including surgery.
Of course, with this going on, I haven't been able to do massages. And I was scheduled to start a hands-on massage class July 6th. One that included learning a 90 minute massage. If trying to give my husband a simple Swedish back massage can reduce me to tears, a 90 minute full body massage will definitely leave me doubled over in pain. So, with lots of prayers, lots of trepidation, and a giant leap of faith I made the painful decision to leave massage school. Whether this is a permanent thing or not is something that is only known by the Savior, and will be revealed to me when the time is right.
Now that I am not in massage school, I needed to figure out what I was going to do. I got my job back at the portrait studio. The studio location that I was originally at and that I adore working at. I am planning on beginning classes for a nursing program in the fall. I'd always intended on becoming a midwife sometime after massage school, so that just got moved up.
Things are changing, and I'm not usually good with changes. There has been a lot of prayer and a lot of faith going on to get me here. Now it's just waiting to see what these changes mean in the long term.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
A hodge-podge of topics
Things are finally getting back to normal following the miscarriage. I say finally, because it hasn't just been grieving and coping that's been going on. At the same time I was miscarrying, I had a major sinus infection that landed me in the ER needing IV fluids for dehydration.
Then a week or so later we all wound up sick. Well, the girls and I at least. We had sore throats and coughs. My husband wound up unscathed until that weekend, when the girls and I were feeling better. Suddenly he was sick. Just very achy. He wound up coming home from work almost immediately, unable to do his job from being sore and coughing. He's been under the weather this entire past week, but Friday wound up feeling much better. Then Saturday came. He'd slept all day (works overnight). Then when I woke him to get ready for work he was coughing severely, very sore, and his fever was back after a 3-4 day period without one. Just looking at him you could tell he was 'off' so we called my mom to come sit with the girls and headed to the ER. Which is where I was wishing I'd woken him up a bit earlier, as we got poor treatment from the triage nurse since it wasn't technically an emergency that brought us in, combined with the fact that DH currently has no primary doctor. He woke up after the urgent care places had closed or we would have been there! Thankfully even though it was the weekend they weren't busy and the doctor and nurse in the actual treatment room were very nice. He has sever bronchitis and the antibiotics and inhaler are working well. He woke up this morning and was like a new person. Still not 100%, but on the way to getting there.
I'm back in school. This term, which is six weeks for our program, is very hectic. Normally as a full-time student I would have two classes. One on Mondays and Wednesdays, and one on Tuesdays and Thursdays. This term to make up my exercise training (which I left due to the miscarriage), I am taking two classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays in addition to my Monday/Wednesday class. It is very stressful, as I'm gone pretty much all day on those days. I have to leave home by 1, which will be by noon during the upcoming College World Series, and then have exercise class from 1:30pm-5pm. I leave the gym at 5 and find something to eat. I've been just grabbing whatever I can. Which is not a good option and usually leaves me feeling bad because whatever I can grab is generally junk food! Then I'm in class again from 6pm-9:30pm. I get home at 10pm, just in time to get the girls ready for bed, if they aren't already asleep. I hate missing out on so much of their week, but there are only four more weeks of this, which means 8 days. I am trying to handle it as best as I can.
The most exciting part of the hectic schedule is that my exercise training class has turned me into a (wannabe) runner. I love the feeling I get at the gym, and love going there. But I know that I can't afford a gym membership or the gas to drive to the gyms I can afford! So I needed to find a workout that I can do at home and is cheap with little equipment since our tiny house is full. Running came to mind immediately. I do have a treadmill that I inherited from my grandpa in our garage. It is in great condition and works well, despite being a bit older. So when the weather isn't great I can use it. Otherwise I've taken to running around our small town. It is nice not having to worry about running after dark. Which is when I prefer to run becaue I'm not a fan of summer heat! I'm working on building my endurance, only being able to run short distances right now. But I run as far as I can then walk, then run again when I can. Sometimes I take the kids, sometimes I leave them home if there is someone here. My plan is to switch to running in the early morning with our lab after my husband gets home from work. I get exercise, the dog gets her exercise which will hopefully keep her calm the rest of the day, and everyone is happy. It's a great feeling to know your body is getting stronger and to feel that happening!
The more I run, the more amazed I am at the body God has given us. And the more ashamed I am for having gone so long not even caring the slightest bit about taking care of this body. I've only got the one, after all! With that in mind I'm definitely making a bigger effort to live out the practices I know I need to. Limiting refined foods, eating more at home. Eating more local foods, fresh foods especially. Working out. Not to look good, not to push myself (even though they are HUGE motivators for me!), but simply to live. When I exercise, when I eat right I feel a difference in my body. And a good difference!
Then a week or so later we all wound up sick. Well, the girls and I at least. We had sore throats and coughs. My husband wound up unscathed until that weekend, when the girls and I were feeling better. Suddenly he was sick. Just very achy. He wound up coming home from work almost immediately, unable to do his job from being sore and coughing. He's been under the weather this entire past week, but Friday wound up feeling much better. Then Saturday came. He'd slept all day (works overnight). Then when I woke him to get ready for work he was coughing severely, very sore, and his fever was back after a 3-4 day period without one. Just looking at him you could tell he was 'off' so we called my mom to come sit with the girls and headed to the ER. Which is where I was wishing I'd woken him up a bit earlier, as we got poor treatment from the triage nurse since it wasn't technically an emergency that brought us in, combined with the fact that DH currently has no primary doctor. He woke up after the urgent care places had closed or we would have been there! Thankfully even though it was the weekend they weren't busy and the doctor and nurse in the actual treatment room were very nice. He has sever bronchitis and the antibiotics and inhaler are working well. He woke up this morning and was like a new person. Still not 100%, but on the way to getting there.
I'm back in school. This term, which is six weeks for our program, is very hectic. Normally as a full-time student I would have two classes. One on Mondays and Wednesdays, and one on Tuesdays and Thursdays. This term to make up my exercise training (which I left due to the miscarriage), I am taking two classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays in addition to my Monday/Wednesday class. It is very stressful, as I'm gone pretty much all day on those days. I have to leave home by 1, which will be by noon during the upcoming College World Series, and then have exercise class from 1:30pm-5pm. I leave the gym at 5 and find something to eat. I've been just grabbing whatever I can. Which is not a good option and usually leaves me feeling bad because whatever I can grab is generally junk food! Then I'm in class again from 6pm-9:30pm. I get home at 10pm, just in time to get the girls ready for bed, if they aren't already asleep. I hate missing out on so much of their week, but there are only four more weeks of this, which means 8 days. I am trying to handle it as best as I can.
The most exciting part of the hectic schedule is that my exercise training class has turned me into a (wannabe) runner. I love the feeling I get at the gym, and love going there. But I know that I can't afford a gym membership or the gas to drive to the gyms I can afford! So I needed to find a workout that I can do at home and is cheap with little equipment since our tiny house is full. Running came to mind immediately. I do have a treadmill that I inherited from my grandpa in our garage. It is in great condition and works well, despite being a bit older. So when the weather isn't great I can use it. Otherwise I've taken to running around our small town. It is nice not having to worry about running after dark. Which is when I prefer to run becaue I'm not a fan of summer heat! I'm working on building my endurance, only being able to run short distances right now. But I run as far as I can then walk, then run again when I can. Sometimes I take the kids, sometimes I leave them home if there is someone here. My plan is to switch to running in the early morning with our lab after my husband gets home from work. I get exercise, the dog gets her exercise which will hopefully keep her calm the rest of the day, and everyone is happy. It's a great feeling to know your body is getting stronger and to feel that happening!
The more I run, the more amazed I am at the body God has given us. And the more ashamed I am for having gone so long not even caring the slightest bit about taking care of this body. I've only got the one, after all! With that in mind I'm definitely making a bigger effort to live out the practices I know I need to. Limiting refined foods, eating more at home. Eating more local foods, fresh foods especially. Working out. Not to look good, not to push myself (even though they are HUGE motivators for me!), but simply to live. When I exercise, when I eat right I feel a difference in my body. And a good difference!
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Praise you in this storm...
Baby number 3 was not meant to be. At least not at this time. I found out last Monday that I was having another miscarriage. While I wish I could change the outcome, I have accepted what is happening. I am coming to this loss with much greater faith in God than I have past losses. Miscarriage is a part of my life. It is not a happy part, nor is it a celebrated part. But, it is there and I accept it. My husband and I have both decided that our family is up to God. And, while I plan on making changes to help improve my fertility, we know that by leaving this in His hands we open ourselves up not only to more children if He so desires, but to more losses as well. We learn from each of those losses. Learn to appreciate our children even when they are driving up crazy. We learn to see our family as the blessing that it is. And we learn a lot about ourselves as parents. It opens us up to really examine ourselves and see where we need to change.
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