I’m sure by now you’ve all seen or heard about the recent cover of TIME magazine. If not, it was a mom nursing her child. No biggie, right? Well, her child is 3 (actually almost 4) and is standing on a chair in order to nurse while his mom stands with a hand on her hip.

Honestly, I like the photo. YAY for breastfeeding making it to the cover and yay for awareness of extended breastfeeding. It’s the title (“Are you mom enough?”) and the blurb (about attachment parenting moms going to extremes) that I hate. Obviously it was all done for controversy and it definitely worked–moms everywhere were in an uproar–about the title, the article, the photo…

Although I liked the photo, it’s clearly not how nursing a toddler typically looks and for people unfamiliar with extended breastfeeding, it may give the wrong impression or idea. Again, it was done just to stir the pot.

THIS is how nursing a toddler usually looks:

My son is about 2.5 years old. I never imagined I’d still be nursing him. My goal was always one full year of breastfeeding, but I’m not sure what I thought would happen after that… he’d magically just stop? I know your opinion on many things change once you actually have your baby, but even when Ryan was little, I thought “extended breastfeeding” was a little weird. Did I want to nurse my son if he was talking and asking for it? If he’d have memories of it later in his life? Weird.

But now I’m there. And I can easily say that it’s not weird at all. At least to me and my family and that’s all that matters, right?

Ryan was down to nursing just once a day. Then I got pregnant with Rebecca and he basically stopped. He was about one and a half. Sure, he’d still nurse here and there if he fell and hurt himself or something, but it wasn’t a daily thing and I thought he had weaned himself… I thought we were done!

But when I was a few months pregnant, he started back up again. I blogged about trying to prepare for two kids, with one of my “concerns” being breastfeeding. Would Ryan want more or less? Some people said their kids stopped nursing when the baby arrived because the milk was for the baby! But others said their kids nursed more.

Ryan? Nurses more. MUCH MORE. After Rebecca arrived, Ryan asked for “milkies” all the time. If Rebecca has it, Ryan has to have it. If Rebecca is on my lap, Ryan has to be on my lap. He was not about to give up his milk and mommy time now!

It did start to be a little much for me–if I wasn’t nursing her, I was nursing him (AH! touching overload!)–and our new rule is three times a day… Ryan gets to nurse in the morning, after lunch (before his nap), and after dinner (before bedtime). He does ask for it more often, but we’ve been pretty good with the new rule.

“Why don’t ya just nurse him till college?” Hardy-har-har. Why oh WHY is that a go-to phrase? It’s not funny in the slightest. Even if I begged and cried to get Ryan to nurse till college, I’m pretttttttttttttty sure that wouldn’t fly. And he’s two. Maybe he’ll be 3. Kindergarten is a long way off, let alone college. I bet more moms practice extended breastfeeding than you’d think… by that age, it’s only a couple of times a day, which  means rarely (if EVER) does it occur in public. You’ll never see it. I know for us, it’s always at home–on the couch or in bed. You wouldn’t have a clue unless I told you… or if you were at one of my family events, Ryan fell and got hurt, and started crying for milkies.

He’s still my baby boy and he still needs his mama. No, I’m not going to pump it and put it in a cup (a comment I saw). At this point, it’s more about comfort and bonding than it is about nutritional value–so a cup defeats the purpose. Besides, YOU are never going to see us nursing in public as I mentioned above, so WHY do you care?

And with Rebecca around, nursing all day, how could I possibly refuse my baby boy, who is having a hard enough time adjusting to a new baby in the house? He already feels replaced and confused by Rebecca’s presence, how could I take away one of his favorite things that allows us to bond after a long day while he has to sit and watch Rebecca get milk instead? Not a chance.

If I hadn’t told you that Ryan was nursing in these photos, you would have thought we were just cuddling on the couch and it’d be oh-so-sweet. Well, he is nursing, and it’s still super sweet… there’s nothing “gross” or “disgusting” about it and I’m tired of seeing those words, used to judge another woman. We’re all moms, we’re all doing the best we can, and we’re all doing what’s right for us and our families. We all need support, not judgment. Being a mom is hard enough! <3

EDIT: do you have a photo of extended breastfeeding? of you nursing your toddler?? if you’d like to share, please email me your photo so I can put them all in a future blog post! erdickey at gmail dot com

It’s almost time for BlogHer again… ahhhh! If you aren’t familiar, BlogHer is a big annual conference in August for.… bloggers! I’ve been the past two years and have plans to go again this year. It’s in NYC once again and I can’t wait! More official news on my sponsor and plans will be coming soon

This year, I’m taking Rebecca with me! She’ll be just over 5 months old at the time of the conference and she’s such a chill and easy baby, I think we’ll have a great time!

I was just working on a shirt for myself when I thought… Rebecca needs some new clothes, too! I found all of these at cafepress.com and I can’t pick which ones to get! They’re all cute:

What ones are your favorites?! Most come in white, pink, or blue (some have a green option). I wish they were available as t-shirts instead of onesies, but I’ll just pair it with a cute tutu I THINK I have it narrowed down to “I <3 my blog,” “blogging coach,” and “my mommy is going to blog this.” But I do also love “star of mommy’s blog” and “remember my name, you’ll be blogging it in the morning,” hahaha. HELP!

Ryan is a big boy, just ask him. Call him your little peanut and he’ll correct you with, “No, I’m a BIG peanut!” The other day I told him he couldn’t get any bigger, he had to stay my little boy and he replied, “but mom, I AM getting bigger!” He’s too smart for me.

This gets us into trouble sometimes. He thinks he’s big enough to drive the car… to walk in the street alone… to cook his mac & cheese on the stove… and to drink out of mommy’s and daddy’s nice glasses (remember, he’s two… “and a half!”).

Now about last one–we can do something about that and we HAVE to: we’ve lost one too many glasses as they shattered on the floor and we’ve spent too much time making sure every tiny piece of glass was gone AND all spilled juice was wiped up. Those stains on our couches and floor though? Some are there to stay. Ryan is a big boy, but not quite big enough for “mommy’s and daddy’s glasses.”

The problem? Ryan is too big for bottles and he’s too big for spouts. Sure, he can still use them, but he doesn’t like to. It’s not a “big boy cup.” GAH! We’ve tried a couple solutions–straw cups, smaller spouts, the coolest looking designed cups we could find–but like I said, Ryan is too smart for us, we weren’t fooling anyone.

I love Tommee Tippee. We’ve used their breast pump, baby bottles, sip cups, spout cups, water bottles, bowls, easy mat, and now… their Explora Drinking Cup. I’ve loved every previous bottle and cup of theirs and this new one for Ryan is no different… it’s a favorite of Ryan’s and we all know if the kid is happy, mom is happy! {read on for a giveaway!}

The cup has like a mini-spout… it makes it easy for Ryan to drink out of without spilling, but it’s not like a sippy cup spout that makes him feel like a “baby.” It’s a lot more like he’s drinking out of a REAL cup. The cup is insulated to keep drinks cool (great for our hot days at the park), holds 9oz, which has been plenty, and is recommended for ages 2 and up.

These are now my go-to cups and that’s why I’m excited to share them with all of you! We have two of them and I’m always disappointed when I discover they’re both dirty at the same time and I have to find a new cup to use, haha.

Ryan explains his new cup, “I drink from right here!”

I better not forget these important parts: the drinking cups are spill-proof (with an inner valve), they’re BPA-, PVC– and phthalate-free, and they’re dishwasher safe. The suggested retail price is $8.99 for a pack of two drinking cups, which I think is an awesome deal, and you can find the Tommee Tippee Explora line at Target stores nationwide and at Target.com!

GIVEAWAY: one lucky reader will win their own Tommee Tippee Explora Sippy Cup product! Please use the form below to enter–none of the entry options are mandatory so you can do as many or as few as you’d like! Good luck!

~I wrote this review while participating in a blog tour by Mom Central Consulting on behalf of Tommee Tippee Sippy Cups. I received a Tommee Tippee Explora Sippy Cup product as well as a promotional item as a thanks for my participation.
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I know so many wonderful mamas out there and am lucky enough to have some amazing mothers in my life! Happy Mother’s Day, you all deserve it! Hope you have a great day and get spoiled rotten And to my own mama…

Me as a baby with my mom

the best moms let you eat cookie dough on the beater

at a Genesis (Phil Collins) concert together

one of our many trips to FL together

my bachelorette party

making lefse (or just a mess, lol)

Four generations… and 3 amazing mamas

Like mother, like daughter! I’m just like you. Hahaha.

Thank you for everything you’ve taught me, mom, especially how to be a great mama… and to love chocolate, scream at spiders, wear tags on my shirts, watch the moon, love music (the good stuff–Phil Collins and The Who), and generally be an overall awesome person Thank you for being my best friend! LOVE YOU! to the moon and back 9,999,999,999,999,999 times.

I’d been having “prodromal” labor for a couple weeks. I hate to call it that, but they were stronger than my normal braxton-hicks that I’d been having for months and they were consistently 1–1.5 minutes in length and 5-minutes apart for hours at a time. There were three specific times that I surely thought I was in labor! But every time, the contractions died down and stopped… usually after a sleepless night. I was frustrated, discouraged, and exhausted. Contractions are hard work! And I wasn’t used to daily workouts, haha.

I remember waking up Thursday morning (Feb. 23rd) and feeling normal for the first time in at least a week. I was happy, I was motivated, and most of all–my mind was NOT on labor. I was cleaning, I shaved my legs, I did laundry… I know you’re all thinking “nesting!” but it wasn’t anything crazy–I  mean, I wasn’t on my hands and knees scrubbing the bathroom floor, haha. I just felt good. I guess I had finally given up on the hopes of labor coming soon!

I think it was about 3pm that I had the first contraction. It was definitely strong enough to make me immediately say “hmmm, well this is different.” I’m going to go a head and say they were painful. (Looking back and seeing how painful it really got later on, those early ones were nothing, haha — but at the time, I knew it was real.) I called my mom in excitement and just continued playing with Ryan and doing stuff around the house.

Steve got home from work around 4:30pm and I looked at him and got all teary. A contraction came and I held the kitchen table. I told him it was real this time (FOR REAL this time!), that it hurt, and that I was nervous. He gave me a hug and then I think *he* started nesting, haha, as he worked on cleaning the whole house.

I called my midwife around 5:30pm–not thinking she needed to come yet, but to give her a heads up. She told me to call back in an hour. In the meantime, I started baking a birthday cake for Rebecca! My contractions were, right off the bat, a minute long and every 5 minutes.

I called my midwife about 6:30pm. We decided she should come over around 8–8:30pm… I was stopping between contractions, but I guess I could still kind of talk through them. (If I had any idea how intense labor would get later on, I  never would have called them this early). I sent a text to my doula and she came over at the same time, around 8–8:30pm. It was the night of a snow storm so everyone wanted to get here earlier rather than later. My mom came, too, because she was going to watch Ryan.

About 9:30pm, I went to the bathroom and lost some mucous plug–whoooo! I was so excited. BABY TIME!

this would be me at the computer–doing my early updates to facebook/twitter — that’s my mom on the couch

My cake was done and we decided to play the board game Buzzerwizzer (it’s a trivia game, so fun!) because we were all just sitting around. We kind of had a house full and I felt like everyone was watching me, waiting for me, and I didn’t know how to (re)act. Well, turns out that’s because it was really early labor, I wasn’t in full-on focused mode yet, and… had a long way to go, haha.

We never finished the game because I got up to use the bathroom and felt the contractions were more intense. It was late–maybe around 11pm? We decided to rest, take naps… I tried, but I was in and out of the shower. My doula really helped me get through the night. At 4am, I had bloody show–whooo! More excitement. I got in the tub for about an hour then, while Steve slept. I got out for a bit and then took a shower at 6:45am. Everyone was up and at ‘em in the morning, with Ryan getting up around 7am?

He made me smile, but it was hard to have him there during contractions. I ate some peanut butter toast (or tried to). At 8:30am, my contractions slowed to about 7 minutes apart. I was checked for progress and my cervix was very posterior and the opening couldn’t even really be reached. The edge felt thick and closed. Meaning… no progress. I think the disappointment was visible across my face so I was told that “mayyyybe I was 2–3 cm dilated,” but I don’t think I was at all. But that’s what I posted on facebook, 2-3cm dilated, because I was too embarrassed and disappointed to post otherwise.

What did this mean? I had been in labor for 12+ hours with no progress. I was not in active labor, maybe not in “real” labor? We all decided that it would be best if the birth team left. I felt watched and we all know a watched pot never boils. I think I had performance anxiety… I didn’t feel comfortable and that can definitely slow progression of labor.

I sobbed. Of course! I was in pain and had been for 12+ hours. I had weeks of prodromal labor that apparently did nothing. I was tired. I felt defeated, I felt disappointed, I felt discouraged. It was the only time through this whole thing that I thought… I can’t do this. I’m not going to be able to make it. I have sooo much farther to go. How can I do it?

Steve tried to get me to go out for breakfast with him. He thought it would take my mind off things… I was told that this labor could even possibly stop and not start again for hours or even days. AH! I considered going out for breakfast, but then another contraction came and I was like — there’s no way.

So Steve left to get breakfast and bring it home to me. I took two benadryl, got in bed, and fell asleep–hoping the labor would stop if that was the plan or that the rest would help and things would pick up again. Steve woke me up with breakfast when he got home shortly after, but I shooed him away so I could sleep. In hindsight, I’m glad I got some sleep, but that benadryl wiped me out so when I woke up only 2 hours later because the contractions were too much, I was a little slow moving.

Throughout the labor, there were definitive periods when my contractions stepped it up a notch. I mean, I could look at Steve and say, “okay, we’re at the next level.” Then my body would get used to that level of pain and it would be bearable again, until of course the contractions stepped it up again… it’s fascinating the way your body adjusts and copes. I eventually reached a point where I was just in a trance… in another world… completely focused and breathing through each contraction. One at a time. I knew that if I let myself slip up–FEEL the pain and think even for a second that “I can’t do this”–then I’d never come back. It’s so hard to relax a person that is tensing up and freaking out about pain… so I just never let myself do that. My chants through contractions were “doooooown and out” and “IIIIII can do it,” over and over. The word “can’t” was not allowed to escape my mouth or enter my thoughts.

Steve and my birth team stayed in touch all day. I think I stayed in the shower for like 4 hours–until the hot water was gone. I had Steve call the birth team that night, around 7pm. I felt my contractions were stronger, they were clearly not stopping, and were now 3 minutes apart.

I didn’t even notice when they arrived–I was in bed, moaning through contractions. I was focused. This was real.

Steve was amazing and stayed by my side the entire time, encouraging me and helping me relax. But my doula… she was something special… she had a magic touch and voice, I tell ya. Those painful contractions would come, she’d remind me to relax those muscles, tell me how strong I was for my baby girl, tell me I could do it… and the unbearable pain was suddenly bearable. I loved her.

My mom came back, too, but Ryan stayed at her house with my dad. We had wanted him there, but at this point knew it’d be better if he wasn’t.

At 8:30pm I got in our jacuzzi. I remember telling Steve, “I hope I’m not getting in too early.” Meaning, I thought I was nearly done and I’d be giving birth in the tub.… hahahaha. Ohhh if I only knew!

At 10:30pm, I was checked. I was scared. I did not want more bad news. My cervix was still a bit posterior, but I was 5-6cm and 50% effaced. Oh THANK the heavens, I was making progress!!! I was half-way!!! Okay, okay, we’re half-way there, we can do this! I CAN DO THIS!

So about 11pm, we tried new positions. I hung from the door during contractions with a rebozo and rested on Steve in between. I labored on hands and knees, then tried going up and down the stairs. Around 1:15am, I was so tired–I went to bed to try to rest. Every time I laid in bed to take a rest, my labor would slow down and contractions would space out… but I sooo needed the rest!

I didn’t rest in bed too long–I needed a change (to help with the pain) and I got in the tub from 2:30 to 4:30am. My contractions were 5 minutes apart and I was “sleeping” between contractions. If you’ve been through this before, you know what I mean by “sleeping” between contractions. It’s not exactly sleep, it’s… some form of total la-la land. Steve slept.

At 8:45am (Saturday), I ate a little breakfast, changed my clothes and brushed my teeth. It was a new day! I tried more positions, some swaying and “dancing” with Steve, more hanging from the door. At 11:30am, I was going up and down the stairs sideways with the rebozo on and Steve helping me. I didn’t have a clear transition phase, but this is when I kind of showed some signs of it… I was shaky and my contractions seemed to have no end. I’d feel the wave lessen, like the end of a contraction, but it’d pick right back up again before stopping completely. It wasn’t terrible though, and I never broke down and said “I can’t do this!” which is a typical sign of the transition phase.

Alright… we’re nearing a full two days of labor now. Around noon, my mom left to go to the grocery store. While she was gone, I was checked and found to be 90% effaced, at +2 station, 8-9cm dilated and very stretchy. AHH!! I can’t even describe the amount of happiness I felt at that moment. With Ryan, I got to 8cm, 80% effaced, and +1station before the c-section. I knew that sometimes in VBACs, moms stall at the dilation point they reached during the previous labor. Maybe I did, maybe I was at 8cm for awhile? I wasn’t checked often enough to know, but… at this point… I had passed it.

I pushed twice, just to see. I couldn’t feel anything, but my midwife felt the head moving down with each push–it was on the pubic bone. My bag of water was still intact, but bulging.

I changed my clothes (“Proud VBAC Mama!”), had a snack, and suddenly felt like my contractions barely hurt at all–I think I was so excited to be “almost done” and past the point I got to with Ryan. I couldn’t stop smiling! And maybe the pain really did lessen–maybe this was my body’s resting point before the big finish?

Since Rebecca was on the pubic bone, I laid like this for awhile–head down, butt in the air. They used the rebozo a bit too, around my belly, holding it up. The idea was to get the baby to move slightly up and then, when I changed positions, she’d move back down, off the pubic bone.

This was the next position–to move the baby back down. Yea, that’s Ryan’s potty stool, haha. And the rebozo around my belly.

About 4:30pm, I was doing some more light pushes in my bed. My contractions hurt so much, pushing was a relief–I don’t know if it really took pain away or if it gave me something else to focus on. Either way, it helped, but I didn’t really have an urge to push. I had a slight cervical lip so my midwife helped hold it back while I was pushing to help it disappear.

About 6pm, I was in the tub again and doing some more pushing. I was having some urges to push and those were my most successful pushes–it takes over your body and there’s nothing you can do but PUSH! It was an overwhelming feeling and I made some sort of moan/yelling noise with each one. I tried on my back, on each side, on my hands and knees… At 7:30pm, there’s a note that I’m pushing harder and the cervical lip was still there, but it would disappear on its own with each push.

The birth team was discussing a transfer at this point, but I had no idea. They asked Steve if *I* had said anything about it–if I wanted to transfer. Steve said no. (I didn’t know about any of this until after Rebecca was born and I’m thankful). The thought of transferring never entered my mind, not once. Of course if something was wrong or if someone had told me we needed to transfer, I would have in a second. But just because the labor was long and I was tired? No. I wasn’t giving up, baby girl was doing GREAT, she was checked (and I was checked) all the time.

I was pushing on the bed. Some sort of liquid came out with a push and I was like “did my water just break?!” Um, no, I peed. Awesome.

At 10:10pm, my membranes spontaneously ruptured. I was in bed and it was a gush. The fluid was clear.

I remember asking what time it was (I had no concept of time) and was told 11:45pm. They said my baby might have a Feb 25th birthday! That meant I had 15 more minutes to push her out… I was excited!

That didn’t happen, haha.

At 2:05am I was in the shower… for the last time. It was nearly impossible to walk–with that head between my legs–and I was exhausted. My contractions were weakening. I mean, if you lifted a weight over and over for 2 days, your bicep would give up, too. My uterus was tired. I sat on a birthing ball in the shower and although I was in complete la-la land, I gave myself a mental pep-talk. It’s now or never. There is no option, this has to happen NOW. Let’s do this.

I shot out of that shower, into the family room where I ate some fruit and peanut butter, drank some chicken broth, and was ready to go. I think everyone in the room was holding their breath. It was 3am. I thought I’d give birth in our bedroom (or maybe in the tub), but I think everyone agreed I needed a change of scenery. I needed out of that dark bedroom.

I pushed on my hands and knees on the birth ball. Then in the running start position (leaning on the ball with one leg propped up)–hated that one. I could feel the discouragement in the room. With each push, there was silence–there was no more news of progress. I finally asked, “Am I doing nothing?! What’s going on down there?” I was feeling discouraged, too. But not giving up.

Finally, a squat position. It did the trick.

Steve sat on the couch behind me and during contractions, I squatted, feet flat on the floor, with his support under my arms. Between contractions, he pulled me up to his lap. At first I tried to sit on him, but there was a head in between my legs and I could not sit! So I kind of… laid on him, haha. Oh and my VBAC t-shirt? Gone. Everything, gone.

At one point, I was told to reach down and feel my baby’s head… they thought it would motivate me. It didn’t. I felt a tiny area of her head and all I could think about was how big her head would actually be and how far I had to go, haha.

A little bit later, they got out a mirror. This time, much more of her head was showing and that really motivated me. I could see progress while pushing and I could see how close I was. ALMOST!

Then I mumbled a comment to Steve between contractions about how I was scared–of the upcoming pain–I used the word “uncomfortable,” which was probably an understatement, lol. Not to say I wasn’t already in pain, haha, but you know. My birth team replied that I couldn’t be afraid of that ring of fire! It’s coming no matter what, there’s no choice.

I realized I was somewhat holding back. Maybe not pushing as hard as I could–because I was afraid of that pain to come. But good point, it’s coming no matter what… time to push this baby out.

At 4:09am, Rebecca was born.

She came flying into this world in one push. It turns out her left hand was up by her face, which might explain the long time spent pushing. I got teary, Steve cried. She was absolutely beautiful and perfect. I sang her happy birthday and held her tight, skin to skin.

We did it. It was over, Rebecca was here, everything was amazing. The experience was incredible–I’d do it all again in a second! The feeling is indescribable. Like…the last 3 days of my life were working toward this moment. Toward this beautiful baby girl. And she’s finally here, safe and sound and perfect in our arms. We did it!

I think the placenta cord was cut before I pushed it out, but we did wait until it stopped pulsating. I think it was about 15–20 minutes? And then I felt a little crampy, gave a little push, and the placenta slid out easily (4:30am). It was inspected and looked great–we saved it in our fridge for encapsulation. (More on that later.)

They offered to help me to the bed, maybe to the shower if I wanted, and I said nu-uh, no way, I’m way too tired to move–I am laying RIGHT HERE. They put a sheet down for me, but otherwise I laid right there, on the plastic and towels where I gave birth, haha.

We iced my bottom (frozen water-filled condom–best ice pack ever!) so the swelling would go down a bit. Rebecca was latched and nursing by 4:55am. She was a pro–it was really easy right from the start and we’ve never had any issues with that! I immediately asked for one of the chocolate chip cookies my mom had made and that I hadn’t been able to eat during labor, haha.

Everyone left around 7:30-8am and the three of us were alone. Steve did help me get up and get to bed. I can’t remember how long we slept, but my BIL and his girlfriend brought Ryan home around 5:30pm, I think, and he met his little sister for the first time “She came out!”

Other randomness:

~I hiccuped twice after every contraction. Every.single.contraction. It became a joke throughout my labor… and while I had no clear cut transition period, there was a time when my contractions–although they lessened in pain–never seemed to actually end. That was “proven” by the fact that I wasn’t hiccuping, haha. And the best part? The two hiccups I gave right after she was born = The. End.

~Early labor ~ 24 hours, Active labor ~24 hours, Pushing ~10.5 hours. Total = 58.5 hours

~She was 7 lb 6oz, 21 inches long, 13.5″ head

~I had a second degree tear and I chose not to have it stitched. Everything healed great.

~The question everyone wants to know: did I poop during pushing? You bet I did. Come on, 10.5 hours of pushing? I pooped quite a few times. In the bed, in the shower, in the family room. I even peed on the bed, guys. No shame.

~I ate a few times–or tried to eat (fruit, cheese, peanut butter, crackers, broth…)–but really survived on vitamin water and water. There were 2 cups with straws filled at all times and people were always sticking them in my face. I think we went through 2 cases of Vitamin Water. And lots of spoonfuls of honey.

~Steve was incredible. He was sweating right there with me. He walked the stairs with me, he supported me through contractions, I hung around his neck. He massaged me and talked to me and encouraged me. He even got in the shower once with me. He never had any doubt that I could do it and he never once wavered in his support. I couldn’t have done it without him and WE couldn’t have done it without our doula.

~During contractions some women moan, some might yell, some  may be silent. I chanted. I guess through all my reading and hypnobabies, the ONE “affirmation” that really stuck in my head was “down and out.” I think it gave me something to focus on and it was a positive thought–let’s get this baby down and OUT! So with each contraction, I’d moan “down and out, down and out, dowwwwwwwn and ouuuuuut, dowwwwwwwnnnnnnnnnn and ouuuuuttt” and when they were really bad, I’d start turning my head from side to side, too. My other chant later on was “IIIII can do it, IIIIIIIIIIII can do it.” The muscles I liked to tense up were my shoulders, so Steve and my doula did a great job at reminding me to relax those. The relaxation and letting go is really what got me through it.

~I really did want to keep everyone updated the whole time, but there are a couple of reasons I stopped posting on facebook/twitter. Mainly because everything got so intense and I was way too focused to be off typing on a computer. I was in another place… I was in la-la land… the last thing on my mind was facebook. However, all you lovely people did pop into my head a couple of times. I thought about updating a few times, but never got to it. Once, I said to Steve “wow, everyone online is probably freaking out right now! I need to update them!” and Steve replied that HE was updating for me. So at that point, it pretty much went out of my mind. I felt at ease that Steve was telling you guys what was going on throughout the labor. Of course I found out afterwards that he only posted ONCE. So… I am sorry for that, I know many of you were following and were truly concerned! <3

This post is long enough so  more to come in future posts: dealing with pain/using hypnobabies, placental encapsulation, and hiring a doula for a homebirth…

“Born at Home” — fist bump!

It’s ET’s Hanging With The Stars sweepstakes! You could win a trip to LA for you and a friend to attend the Emmy Gala Party! I totally entered–it takes two seconds–sooo if you go enter and you win, you’ll take me as your +1, right?! There are lots of other prizes too… (read official rules for all the details)…

ONE GRAND PRIZE: a trip to Los Angeles, CA for the ET’s Exclusive Emmy® Gala Party on Sunday, September 23, 2012. Round-trip air transportation for winner and one guest, round trip ground transportation between the airport and your hotel, two nights accommodations in a 3 star or better quality hotel, round trip transportation between the hotel and the party and two tickets to the ET’s Exclusive Emmy® Gala Party. The winner and winner’s guest will be able to walk the red carpet at the party and have two seats in the VIP section during the party’s music performance.

WEEKLY PRIZE: A total of eight Weekly Prizes will be awarded. A 10 to15 minute private, off-air call with one of Entertainment Tonight’s show talent: Mark Steines or Nancy O’Dell.

DAILY PRIZE: A total of twenty Daily Prizes will be awarded. Each daily prize winner will get at least his or her first name and last initial on Entertainment Tonight in an on-air graphic within the ticker, bumper or end credit. ((Helllooo, 15 minutes of fame!))

GO ENTER! and Good Luck!

~disclosure: I was compensated for this post, but I really did enter and I’d really love to be your +1 if you win

Dear baby girl,

You have grown so much! You’re so aware and wide-eyed, with big smiles and cute little coos. You like to watch mommy and daddy and laugh at your big brother, Ryan. You’re sticking your tongue out and you kick your feet like crazy–it’s too cute.

You’re a sweetheart–you rarely cry and we can put you down for nap time and you drift off to sleep. But my favorite is when you fall asleep on mommy or next to me in bed.

Ryan is getting more used to having you around and he’s less phased by your cries. Actually, he loves to help out when you are crying by giving you a paci. He’s learned to be soft and gentle… he’ll rub your head, kiss your cheek, and give you a little hug. Okay, sometimes he likes to pull your toes and fingers, too, but he’s just making you strong

You just had your 2-month check-up. The doctor said you’re “perfect!” She tested your neck muscles and head strength with some tummy time and a sit-up. We watched you track mommy with your eyes, too. You weighed 11 pounds and were 23.75 inches in length… you’re getting so big!

You’re in size 3 month clothing, but I’ve put you in some 3–6 mo (it’s big, but not terribly) and still in some 0-3mo. Your newborn/size 0 stuff is definitely out and mama was sad to pack that away!!!

We still haven’t mastered cloth diapers with you–I think the diapers need to be stripped because they’re leaking when I don’t think they should be. In the meantime, you’re in size 1 diapers, but could probably move up to size 2?

You hate to be swaddled. We learned that pretty fast because you’d just cry until you got those arms free! You sleep all spread out, arms above your head, without a care in the world. It looks wonderful

I wish I could spend more time just staring into your big blue eyes, watching you smile, and cuddling with you. But it’s a good thing you like to watch your big brother play, because that’s what we do most of the time, haha.

Your daddy says he thinks you’re going to be smart. Well, of course she is, I say. Just like her big brother!

Sweet baby girl, we love you to the moon and back 9,999,999,999,999,999,999 times,
<3 mama, daddy & ryan

Have you ever heard that saying? It was my grandpa, I think, that used to say that… when the house was a mess. “Looks like the wreck of the Hesperus in here!” Probably said quite often about my bedroom when I was little “The Wreck of the Hesperus,” by the way, is a Longfellow poem.

Steve was out of town again the first half of this week–another business trip. I had grand plans to get things done around the house (trading out my winter clothes for summer clothes, cleaning up Rebecca’s bedroom, etc.) Did ANY of that get done? No. I’m lucky I did one load of laundry and emptied the dishwasher… ya know, right before Steve got home so it appeared that I did something.

Want to know HOW the house of a stay-at-home-mom gets like this?? Read an AWESOME “day in the life” play-by-play like this one, haha.

In a moment of stress and exhaustion, I decided to laugh at the mess around me and I took pictures. Just for you. I hope you laugh, too. Or judge me, that’s fine too.

Remnants of lunch time. Yes, I let Ryan eat in the family room. While watching Thomas on TV. And yes, that’s a cheeseburger from McDonald’s–that I actually bought the day before and he didn’t eat so I saved it and tried again. Those Cheetos were my lunch.

Piles of {clean} laundry. They were on the couch when Steve left… they were on the couch when Steve got home. And you see how they’re kind of sorted? Steve did that, not me.

Okay, so this picture doesn’t look that messy. But when taken in with the rest of this room, the toys scattered around were bugging me.

Kitchen table–clearly not used for family dinners. Piled with crap and more crap. Products I have to review on the blog, Ryan’s toys, food, books, mail.… and then there’s the kitchen counters…

Okay, now looking at these photos they don’t seem so bad. But those dishes in the picture above had been sitting there for days. And what you can’t see is that the sinks are almost full. The white paper towel dispenser under the cabinet on the right? Ryan soon had that thing emptied and sheets of paper towels were strewn about all over the place.

Ohhh, Rebecca’s beautiful room. She doesn’t sleep in her crib, we NEVER use her bedroom. That’s because she sleeps in our bed and we use our co-sleeper as a changing table. So her room has become… a mess. Her laundry gets done and instead of being put away, it gets piled up all over the place, like her crib…

…and her changing table. Oh my. That’s all clean clothes. Some of it probably doesn’t even fit her anymore. And wait, there’s more…

The other half of her room. MORE clothes piled in her cradle and on top of her bookcase cubes. And you can see her closet, still full of clothes. I wonder if maybe this girly girl has too much clothes?! lol. I am SERIOUSLY planning on cleaning her room this weekend. Really. Promise. Maybe.

Our extra bedroom. This bed was made at some point–and even used! My birth team used it to rest during my labor. I think the sheets were then taken off to be washed (whoo!), but then.… never put back on, haha. And now it’s storage for crap! We’re still unpacking, okay?!

This is the master bedroom. That would be our bed. So embarrassing. That plastic on it? Was from the birth… we put it under our sheets to protect the new mattress. Since I didn’t birth there and nothing got dirty, we left the plastic on because any breastfeeding mom knows how much leaking there is in the middle of the night at the beginning… Then, Rebecca pooped on the bed last week so our sheets got taken off to be washed. Andddd didn’t get put back on. Yet. (Yes, I do mean there is STILL no sheet on our bed lolol. Sleeping on plastic isn’t that bad.) I know you’re judging me.

So I took all these pictures while my children were sleeping–yea, both at the same time! Why wasn’t I CLEANING? What in the world was I doing instead?!

I was relaxing. I was catching up on my TV shows… mmmm, David Boreanaz.

I DID clean some before Steve got home lol… the kitchen is clean, the kitchen table is clear, the laundry is gone from the couch (although just moved to respective bedrooms and not put away…), Ryan’s room is clean.… and that’s about it. I didn’t even show you a picture of MY closet, yikes.

How’s your house look? Care to share pictures?

Ah, we’ve never seen so many photographers since having kids! We captured Ryan’s major milestones by hiring a photographer at birth, 6 months, one year, and two years. Some people do it even more often than that! And now that Rebecca is here, of course we have to do the same for her. It adds up really fast.

What we’ve learned: spending an arm and a leg for photos isn’t necessary. Example: we spent $700+ on Ryan’s newborn photos and we don’t have much to show for it. We got 4 different photos I think. Granted, one of those four is a 12“x24” collage, but still… four photos? For $700??!!! For that price we should have at least gotten a CD of the images copyright free so we could print our own… right?! After that, we’ve hired a number of different local photographers… some okay, some pretty bad, none amazing. Honestly, not worth the money.

For Rebecca’s newborn photos, we hired our old wedding photographer–because we trusted him. We knew his photos were amazing and we knew he’d give us a CD of the images (although still very expensive). And? Rebecca did not cooperate AT ALL during the session. We got a handful of usable images…

So what have I FINALLY really learned?!

Use a photo studio like jcpportraits. You can schedule your session online (EASY! I hate the telephone), view and share photos online, choose from lots of backgrounds, bring props.… you’re in and you’re out! Best of all, you’ll be saving lots of money. They have some awesome deals.

Right now they have a promo for the month of April: $20 for 6 traditional portrait sheets (mix and match size and images) as well as one free $9 sitting fee!

There’s a handy location finder on their website so you can find one near you. Capturing my children’s milestones and having pictures of all of us as a family is really important to us. We recently started our “photo wall” in our new house… we can’t wait to fill it as our children grow! We got newborn photos of Rebecca, but next up: we need family photos of all FOUR of us! Soon!

Where do you go for family photos? Have you ever been to jcpportraits? I started a pinterest board, too, for my inspiration with jcpportraits, so check it out

~I wrote this review while participating in a blog tour campaign by Mom Central Consulting on behalf of jcpenney Portrait Studio. I was asked to create a Pinterest Board and pin at least five (5) pins. I give jcpenney the right to repin any or all images/original content from this board. I received a promotional item as a thanks for my participation.

The differences postpartum between my first birth and my second are like night and day. Completely different experiences, mindsets, and feelings. I don’t even know where to start…

After Ryan was born, I was depressed. It was absolutely beyond the baby blues and although I was never diagnosed with PPD, I believe that is what I had. PPD manifests in different ways for different people. I wasn’t angry and I didn’t hate my child.… I was a zombie. There were just simply no emotions at all. Of course I spent lots of time crying, but otherwise I just… felt nothing.

Recovery from the c-section was hard. Steve went back to work right away, all of our parents were working, we didn’t have a lot of help. Steve was working nights and I remember sitting on the couch, staring at the wall (we had no cable TV), and sobbing. Steve would set me up with a tray of food and a drink before he left… and some nights, he’d sit with me on the phone while he was at work–we didn’t do much talking, he just silently stayed on the line… he was worried about me.

When I sat on that couch and sobbed, I thought.… I’m taking care of this baby because I have to, because it’s what I’m supposed to do. I rarely called Ryan by his name. I have very few photos from early on and the ones I do have were taken by iPhone, not with a camera. I didn’t feel a connection with him and reading about other new moms and how their hearts were “exploding with love” at their newborn made me think something was wrong with me. It made me feel alone.

And I successfully breastfed him through the pain only because I couldn’t handle to “fail” at something else.

after the c-section… it was hours before I got to see and hold Ryan

It lasted a long time. I look back on that entire first year and it was a blur. I went back to work part-time at 6 weeks and that probably saved my sanity a bit, actually. I remember the most excitement of my day was walking down the driveway to get the mail from the mailbox… I waited for 3pm and it was all I looked forward to. On the days when the mailman brought our mail to our door because he had a package for us, I was crushed. What was I going to do now?!

I cried a lot, but I talked to no one. I felt so alone, but also felt like my feelings must be normal for a new, tired mom. Or I thought no one would understand. The only thing I DID talk about was the c-section… I talked about it almost daily to Steve, as I cried about it. It was like every day I remembered something from the labor or the surgery. Or I learned some new fact from the internet about long-term side effects. I was devastated (we all know that).

I know women with vaginal births get PPD, too. However, I do blame a lot of my depression on the c-section. It was traumatic for me, it changed my life completely and it consumed me for a long time.

I’ve moved on. I’ve done a great deal of healing–however, I will never forget. If I let myself sit and really think back to that day… I will cry. I will get angry. But I am doing so much better. And I am helping other women.

So… the second birth. I had a vaginal birth. Yes, I had her at home. Yes, it was tough and it was not my ideal vision of what birth could be. But I’d do it all again in a second–all 58.5 hours of it.

It was the most work I’ve done in my life–it was the most pain I’ll ever feel–it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. And it was, hands down, the most incredible, empowering, and moving thing I will ever experience. I’d do it all again without hesitation.

I bonded with Rebecca immediately, there were no connection issues. Things were great, I was happy, I was feeling like myself in no time at all. The difference from the first time is just amazing… I didn’t feel like myself for probably a year after Ryan was born.  Looking back and being able to compare how I felt, I’m simply amazed a human being can just go on as a zombie like that for so long.

I DID, however, experience some baby blues this time! It’s really crazy how definitive those feelings were. I mean, I could tell you exactly what day and time they started. It was a week after she was born and it lasted for just a few days, maybe a week. I was very nervous the feelings would continue and I’d have PPD again, but thankfully the blues ended as quickly as they came. And this time it wasn’t like being an emotionless zombie, it was a feeling of being completely overwhelmed. I’d randomly burst into tears and snap at people around me–mainly Steve. He was incredibly supportive and amazing through everything!

Will there be a third??? Good question

Did you feel the same or completely different after your births? If you had PPD, did you have it with more than one child?