It is raining, raining, raining. I heard the gargantuan drops pound on our roof late last night. And I felt so thankful to have a sturdy roof over our heads.

I am always reminding myself to be thankful for shelter, clothing, and food. Those basic necessities that seem so complicated sometimes.

I forgot to order rain boots for the kids and sorely regretted my error when Little Miss asked me 17 times yesterday to jump in the muddy puddles outside in…sandals. How can clothing get complicated and food more complicated?

I looked at Mini Mister’s empty lunch bag last night at 10:30 PM and just wondered blankly. What in the world would I fill it with that he might actually eat. What in the world would actually nourish his brain?

Waking at 5:30 AM to nourish Pie Pie’s brain has me on brain drain. I feel like mush come 10 AM. I am at a total loss when I see “dinner” written in my day planner and I completely forget why I phoned my husband.

He is wonderful that husband of mine. I count my blessings that God led me to him. Full of loving support and help, my heart feels content and safe. He is at Little Miss’ pre-school right now training other parents how to co-op in the classroom.

I am feeling relieved that I don’t have to co-op and help out in the classroom this year. 14 three-year olds and me and a teacher = a great need for a nap post event. Luckily, after driving Mini Mister to his bus pick-up and Little Miss to her class, I get to return home with Pie Pie.

Pie Pie is such an easy baby and I find myself amazed at our luck. (Actually after the last two, I am thinking, “it’s about time we get some easy around here!”) I am so thankful and glad that we are all a family. Amid the writing underneath a squirmy someone, the pouring rain outside, and wondering where the next bend in the road will lead, being together brings strength, joy, and grace.

…to me, is how I feel most days. Maybe if I wore a suit of velcro and attached the loop strips to the kids, my arms wouldn’t hurt so much at the end of the day.

Sometimes I am so frustrated I feel like my head is going to fall off. Other times, I just laugh. This too shall pass. And of course then I’ll miss it.

Click over to her blog to see more living captured in images.

More about Pie-Pie’s baptism here. Thank you Father Wilson, God Parents, and family for being there with us during this special time. Little Pie-Pie, may you grow in faith, love, and light. We love you so very much.

Nursing is something I have never loved. I wish that it was. It always felt uncomfortable to me. Stressful really. How much is he getting? Is it enough? Is it the right mix of fore-milk and hind-milk. Am I eating the right things? Are we on time? Does that feeding fit into our hectic pace to get to that event? When is my body, mine, and when is it really his?

I do wish nursing was the blissful, relaxing moment it might have been. Maybe I just wasn’t keen enough to “be in the moment” to enjoy it all.

There are so many experiences that have led me to this place of mixed fillings. But this third try was the eye-opener. Some of the puzzle pieces finally fit together to reveal why nursing is so physically difficult for me.

I wanted to share my story here in the hopes that another mother out there struggling with the same symptoms I had could find some solace, direction, a few answers, and someone who understands. Nursing can be hard. It can be work. And it can be rewarding in the end.

For me, this third time, my milk came in on the third day. We had gotten plenty of help from the lactation consultants in the hospital and I felt I was ready to handle engorgement and milk supply. Little Dylan was nursing beautifully. He did it all: waking up to nurse every two hours, staying awake for 30-40 minute feeds, suckling powerfully, and gaining weight well. But I began to get more and more swollen. And it all was extremely painful.

Within 48 hours, I was so swollen, I couldn’t close my hands, walking was painful, and my breasts were as hard as softballs after our feeding session. The pediatrician instructed us to return to the hospital for phototherapy to manage Little Dylan’s jaundice. Even though getting back to the hospital seemed like a set-back, it turned out to be truly a blessing in disguise.

I was in tears because of the painful swelling. We would nurse, and I would get more swollen. As the hours passed between feedings I’d feel a bit better. My breasts burned, let-down felt like daggers in my chest, and heat and ice compresses did nothing to quell my discomfort. My skin felt like there were spiders crawling on it. My heart felt like it was racing and hot flashes made me sweat. My mind felt sleepy, my throat felt thirsty and all of a sudden, I’d feel ice cold covered in sweat.

My doctor, two different lactation specialists, and many nurses told me they had never heard of anyone experiencing such symptoms while nursing. They advised pumping to alleviate the engorgement, hot and cold compresses to ease the swelling, hot showers to help let-down, and more frequent feedings to empty the milk in my breasts. No one could tell me why nursing made me swollen afterward.

With puffy eyes from tears of pain and frustration, and a body hurting, we checked into the pediatric ward at the hospital. A nurse asked me if I was okay and she turned out to be the angel sent for me.

I told her of my symptoms, about our difficulty breastfeeding, and that no one could tell me how to help myself. She looked at me and said, “I think you have “hyper-let-down. I’ll help you nurse tonight.” I was so surprised. And I felt a flow of relief amidst this supreme gift of grace from God.

When the baby latches on and begins to suck, the nipple simulation sends messages to the brain’s pituitary gland to create oxytocin. Oxytocin pulses to the milk glands in the breasts and lets-down the milk so that it can gently flow out through the nipple. In women with hyper-let-down the message to breast is to let the flood gates open and the deluge of milk in the breast is released with force. The milk can shoot out of the nipple, the flow can cause the baby to choke, gag, and unlatch, and hyper-let-down can feel painful to mom.

Our nurse angel told me to lay down on my back and informed me that I’d be feeding that way for a while. With my baby above my chest, or if we are laying side, beside me, gravity isn’t pulling the milk down out of my breast. The flow is lessened, my pain is lessened, and my baby can feed more comfortably. After that feeding laying down I could open and close my hands easily, my feet were not swollen, and my breast felt relief instead of more engorged. I cannot explain swelling less. Nursing laying  down just worked for us.

Through that night of feedings we also surmised I might also be hyper-sensitive to the prolactin hormones in my body. Many times, hyper-let down is coupled with milk over production. I seem to have very sensitive breasts that take every bump in the road, cool draft, and touch of cold water to mean “make more milk.” I know it sounds weird. I don’t understand all the ways the body works but I these are my symptoms. The best it was explained to me was that each time after the baby would empty a breast my body would work over time to make more milk. Hot flashes, cold sweats, racing heart beats, all may have been because of overactive hormones saying, “make more milk!”

Additionally, I fell upon this tid bit during a Google search. Koreans eat a traditional seaweed soup called miyeok guk after giving birth. In fact, this soup is made for the mom on the birthdays of her children for years to come. It is sweet, salty, and soft on the tummy, and I was eating two large bowls of it a day. But seaweeds can be milk production enhancers. I already had a problem with over production. After halting my seaweed soup  consumption, some of my oversupply subsided and my breasts became lighter, softer, and less painful.

The real solution for hyper-let-down and overproduction is time, patience and to have faith. In time hormones will transition to post-partum levels, residual bodily swelling will subside, and the baby will feed more regularly and the milk supply will match the need. I am not a person of much patience. But this time I vow  to remember daily, or perhaps hourly, that this time nursing Little Dylan is truly precious. I hope I can trust in God, and my baby’s feeding habits, enough to let go a bit, relax, gaze at my little one and enjoy his amazing new presence. In the meantime, we are nursing laying down, reclined, and at home, patiently waiting for the day the rest of the nursing puzzle fits together and we can rejoin regular life together as a happily nursing couple.

I write this today to share with others a sense of hope when nursing seems impossible. Have faith in the Lord. Have faith in your resolve to be the best mother you can be. Be proactive, ask for answers, and search with your heart. I am forever grateful to that nurse who helped me. You too may be surprised who shows up in your hour of need.

Thank you all for your wonderful comments and well wishes. I so appreciate each one of them! More to come about our family fun this summer.

I rarely talk about God on this blog. I feel my relationship with the Lord is very personal to me, and perhaps I am just not that confident about sharing it all as a “new” Catholic. I prefer to influence others, even evangelize, without mentioning His name because Who He Is will always shine through.

I was so unsure through out this pregnancy. I was wanting a third child, but not sure I could follow through physically. I wasn’t sure if this decision was prudent financially. I wasn’t sure about wanting to start a career and how bringing a new life into this world would help or hinder that desire.

What if it all ended in a surgical c-section? What if I had other medical complications along the pregnancy path? What if we lost the pregnancy all together? What if the child was born with some kind of medical challenge? What if I wasn’t able to push him out? The what-if’s haunted me.

It was so very hard to let go and trust in God. The pregnancy was quite a test of faith. And a journey of growing in faith. Each trimester I felt a little more able to make it through. I felt a little more confident in my ability to be a mother to someone new. By the end I felt as if I was heading toward the end of the dock to jump off into God’s embrace with pure faith, but something kept holding me back. Doubt. Fright. Personal insecurity.

In the final weeks of the pregnancy I felt unprivy to the events about to happen. I counted down the days to our due date. Wondering all the while which contraction was going to be “the beginning of the end.” I was afraid of the unknown. Not knowing how labor and delivery was going to follow had me scared and praying for a little more faith in God to hold my hand through it all.

It turned out the wait was more than worth it. All of that waiting to know God’s plan for me, sacrifice, and physical suffering have been returned in ways too great for finite words. Since giving birth, God’s grace has shined down. Angel nurses and doctors have come my way saving my breastfeeding relationship and my body. Support and love from our community and friends has poured forth making me feel unworthy of such love. My own realization about how I can be a better, more supportive, effective parent to my children has come to the surface so clearly. And my feelings of love, respect, and humility toward my husband have been renewed as he has faithfully risen through much fatigue to take care of all four of us.

I am teary eyed as I write this and think of my blessing baby; Dylan. I thought my sacrifice to submit  to God’s will and give birth to another child was emense. But the blessings, gifts, and grace I have received these past couple of weeks is overwhelming compared to what now seems to be my small painful suffering. Thank you God. Thank you Virgin Mary. Thank you baby Dylan.

He is finally here and I can’t quite believe it. Racing hormones, sore muscles, and fatigue aside, it is such romance. Soft skin, faint breathing, and that fantastic new-baby smell enamore siblings and parents alike.

12 AM on our due date, Friday, May 27th, contractions started 10 minutes apart. 1 hour later, 7 minutes apart, and 30 minutes after that, we were going less than 6 minutes. By 2:45 AM we had called the in-laws to come and stay with the sleeping kids and we were off to the hospital.

After some pain medication and a few hours of waiting, at 9 AM we were ready to push. This time the epidural worked. Less pain, but I could still feel our pushing progress. I can’t really describe my feelings as I could sense he was descending and getting closer. Anticipation, tepid relief, disbelief, scared, and joyful.

17 short minutes later, we met Dylan for the first time. 7 pounds, 14.5 ounces. 20 inches long. And he had a full head of black hair.

This was the first babe who was acutely awake after, alert, and curious. This was our first delivery that went smoothly. This was the first time we had to “rush to the hospital during labor.” This was the first time I alone pushed out my baby into the world.

Joy. Grace. Humility. Elation. Relief. Awe. Love. Warmth.

I’ve learned volumes this post-partum period. About God’s supreme grace. About myself. About my children. About my spouse. About my community. It has been a truly eye-opening time. A fascinating experience. And one I wouldn’t trade for anything.

More to come in the near future about a couple of the things I learned about breastfeeding. I know that these tid-bits may be a bit too much for some, not interesting to others, but I feel some of this information could possibly profoundly help another mother dealing with seemingly insurmountable hurdles in these early weeks after giving birth. This is my own experience. I have no medical accrediation to back it. But what was surprising to me is that the professional medical community, largely, was at a loss about my condition and how to help me. I hope that my words may help other mothers out here. More to come…

Blessings.

He’s here! He was born on Friday, May 27th at 9:27 am. He weighed in at 7lbs 14.5 oz, and 20 inches long. And his health couldn’t have been more perfect.

We are thrilled and exhausted to finally meet our new little family member. Right now, we are healing, resting, and slipping into what it means to be a family of five. I’ll be back here in a bit, but for now, I am off to snuggle and nap a bit more.

Goodness I am so behind when it comes to organizing the kid’s photo albums. Heck, I haven’t even completed my wedding scrapbook. Now with number three on the way, I am in kind of a sleepy panic. (Sleepy because I still haven’t been sleeping well. And a panic because, well, with less than five weeks until we meet this new little one, there is no way that I am going to complete Mini Mister’s latest album. This one for Little Miss took me a year and a half.)

This album, to be published by Blurb.com, is for Little Miss’ first two years of life. There are a little over 900 pictures on 325 pages, with all the little notes I could manage to remember. I know that there were so many other little quotes, cute moments, and wonderful tid bits I forget and would have loved to have document here, but my memory didn’t pull through. Plus, enough is enough right?

Now, on to Mini Mister’s latest album. That would be from his 18 months to his current 4 1/2 years old. YIKES. And Little Miss already has another year of photos to document. AND, there is this new baby whose first months of life is sure to be filled with snap shots.

Isn’t amazing what the digital age has done? I believe my baby photo album contains something like 30 pictures of me before I turned two years old. How is it that I was able to shoot more than 1,000 of each kid? Really, are they that much more photogenic than moi?

Blurb is a book publishing software and service. Their easy-to-use downloadable software helps you lay out your book, what ever kind you choose. Then you upload the book to their site and order it. This 300+ page book in hardback form is currently about $90. This may seem like a lot, BUT, it is actually fairly economical when you consider what it would cost to print out 900 photos. Shutterfly currently charges a discounted 10¢ per print with their annual plan. After spending $90 on prints, and $29.99 for their Annual Plan fee, there is the cost of all those album books as well. I figured I’d just get it all done at once and pay a little less.

Whew. So two years are done. Only two more albums to go.

St. Valentine isn’t a well known Saint in our home yet. Mike and I haven’t been exchanging gifts really since we got married, and there were babies. And the kids, well it is so close to Easter usually that we just skip the red and white candy and just do the ton of sugar in a basket. But this year, there was a little bit of gift-giving that entailed, red, red, and more of the color red.

These gifties were from Ammy and Gramps in New Hampshire.

Happy Valentine’s Day and all the sweetness it brings!

These are Betty Crocker Gluten Free Cake Mix – yellow cake, with traditional Betty Crocker vanilla frosting, King Arthur Flour pink nonpareils, and Wilton Hello Kitty Icing Decorations. I am a bit shocked myself that this isn’t entirely made from scratch. But after making 6 boxes of cake mix over the course of a week, being pregnant tired and just wanting to sit and knit, I decided to conserve energy this time. Next year maybe we’ll have all natural cakes made of raw cocoa, and pureed dates and walnuts? This is the one that I am talking about. YUM!

This cake is kind of like the traditional red velvet cake without the “red.” After decorating cakes for a bit you get an idea of how much “red” is needed to really make ingredients RED. For the novice among us, it takes A LOT of a single concentrated gel color to get a bright true color. Black and red are particularly difficult. Blue toddler tongues aren’t pretty either. Eating nuclear-bright artificial colors actually turns my stomach. So I left out the red and just paired this King Arthur Flour gluten free chocolate cake with homemade cream cheese frosting. (The frosting recipe is in the Joy of Cooking cookbook.) A dusting of cocoa and a bunch of candles top it all off. And YUM. (We actually ate this one before dinner!) Totally worth it.

Ahh, so there is a little birthday break now. Mine is in May, and I usually don’t make myself a cake. And then Mini Mister’s is in July. Whew, I can get back to sitting on the sofa and knitting. Yesterday Mini Mister demanded a sweater “with sleeves” that is blue. Gotta get on that before the weather outside doesn’t require sweaters with sleeves!