From Two to Three Kids

This is a guest blog post from a local mama who is also a movie producer. Thank you, Maria, for your contribution. 

A windy day brought us together in Acapulco Bay, 19 years ago. Little did we know that we'd be sharing a life and a bed together with three angels. My husband and I joke that having our third child has made us into adults. I think before, we thought that we had time, we could afford mistakes, debt, a few extra pounds, and not worrying about writing a will. But since our son’s birth in June, we've refinanced our home, my husband is going to the gym (for both of us) 5 times a week, and we are currently writing a will. Not because having a third child will kill you, but because going from two to three kids is serious stuff. There is no more joking around. The kids now outnumber us and we need to have a plan.

I’m 41 and he is almost 50. We've been adults for a long time, but it just hasn't felt like it. We took 11 years to have our daughter, and in that time, we worked, fought, made up, drank margaritas, went to sunny beaches, and built a solid foundation on which we now have created a precious little family. I am thrilled to be a mom of three. But it’s not as easy as people say.  “Going from two to three is not a big change.” Those people are liars. Let me tell you why… 

There is never enough time to get anything done. We seem to always be running late. There’s a spill, a missing shoe, or a last-minute potty emergency. Going to the grocery store is an ordeal. You simply don’t have enough hands. Getting a shower feels like a treat. Eating out has never been this unpleasant. Also, we had to get a new car to fit everyone, and change rooms around in our house to accommodate the new addition. 

Then there’s the guilt, knowing that you can’t make everyone happy. Your older child feels like you’re giving them the responsibility of helping with everything because they’re older. The younger child is no longer the youngest. You can’t help them go to the bathroom, eat, or play with them as much as before because you have a tiny being dependent on your boob for food. You are always feeding the baby, or changing the baby, or rocking the baby to sleep. 

At least both of my “older” kids are out of diapers. And it also helps that they can express their emotions. My 6-year-old daughter has told me that I love the baby more than I love anyone. And my 3-year-old son has told me that he wants me to hold him like I hold the baby. Everything seems to revolve around this new family member. And it does. But I try to make it seem like it doesn't.
I make sure I have some sort of quality time with each kid. Even if it’s just for 10 minutes. I want them to know that they each have an important part of my heart. That they matter, are wanted, needed and loved as much as the other. 

I have been an adult for a long time. But I have never been this happy. If what Elizabeth Gilbert writes is true, that the number 3 "is the number representing supreme balance", I have found my equilibrium, my stability, my raison de vivre. I’ll take the messy house, the sleepless nights, the missing shoes, and the certainty that I must be crazy for having another kid. All for the pure smiles, and the 3 hearts which remind me daily that I was born to be their mom.

Maria Sotolongo stays at home to raise her three kids, 6, 3, and 3 months old. She left her TV job to enjoy her little ones full-time. In the few minutes she has of freedom, she loves photography, blogging, cooking, and is now producing a documentary about home births. You can find her and a short trailer of her documentary atwww.mariasotolongo.com

2013 From the Mouths of Moms

The quotes herein are all verbatim from the mouths of some of the mamas I have served in 2013. Hopefully, some will make you laugh, and some will make you pause.

From a mama at 7cm working through active labor when her partner, whom she had previously asked to joke with her until she couldn't stand it any more, cracked a particularly unsavory joke at her situation.

"Shut up. Shut up or I will shoot you in your balls. I got what I need from 'em" (while patting her very pregnant form). 

When a mama started questioning her ability to achieve her VBAC in the midst of labor, during a thunderstorm, her husband asked her if she still thought she could do it.

"My uterus knows, you know? It knows.... And dammit, if it can sing this truth through the pain and the rain, then maybe, just maybe, my heart and head might start listening."

First words spoken from mama as her baby waited to be 'received' from the ground into her mamas arms. Second baby after a very traumatic first birth.

"My, aren't you perfect?! My perfect redemption. You are the reason I can cry tears of joy instead of pain."

While nurse was buzzing around the room getting ready for birth after an amazingly precipitous labor:

"No matter how fast you move, you can't get the doc here in time to catch this baby... cuz I'm puuuuuuussssshhhing!"

P.S. nurse caught baby, I assisted.

When midwife announces that mom is 10cm and ready to push after over 48 hours of very intense labor.

"You think you can't go on, but you can. You think you can't give just one more, but you do. F*ck, I'm amazing!"

Doctor is giving a very uncomfortable cervical exam to mom while she starts a contraction. Mom begs doc to stop, he doesn't, so she says, rather vehemently:

"Get your fingers out of my vagina or I'll break them."

Nurse encourages mom to get on her back to push, for the 5th time in 2 pushing contractions. Mom is in a squatting position and says sweetly:

"Dear nurse, have you ever tried to shit on your back? Please don't ask me to shit on my back."

Mom while at home, after I tell her I think she is getting to the point we should think about moving to her place of birth:

(to me) "You brought your emergency kit, right?" (to her partner) "Honey, what do you think of just staying here?"

Mama to her baby, who is still in her womb:

"Ok, here's the deal baby, I squeeze, you wiggle down. Squeeze and wiggle. Squeeze and wiggle. Got it? We can do this, little journeying soul."

Conversation between laboring mom and her wife:

"What time is it?"
"Now"
"What day is it?"
"Today"
"When will baby be here"
"When he's ready"

Mom telling her birthstory to a group of other pregnant women at a meeting

"Labor pinches your cheeks, buckles your knees, shakes your hands, and squeezes your midsection. But it won't kick your butt unless you let it."

Mom had been asking dad to massage her back on and off for about an hour. When he said he would like to go for 'a lap' to clear his mind, she said this:

"Leave"
(contraction in which he didn't get to the door yet)
"Come Back!!!"
(he starts massaging her)
"Stop it. Go away!"
(he smiles at me and starts to leave, she then finishes the contraction)
"Don't leave, stay!"
(at this point dad pipes up)
"How about I stay between here and there, just in case?"

Thank you moms, for giving me such a wealth of laughter and insight. You continue to be my muse and motivation - one birth at a time!

A Birth Story

S was a beautiful and intuitive mama that I had the honor of working with recently. She chose to share her story with me, so that I could share it with you! Thank you so much, S, for this honor. I have interjected a few comments on my perspective, in italics. 

On Tues. Oct. 1st at around 715 am, I started to feel contractions while getting ready for work. I had Braxton hicks toward the end of the pregnancy but these were different. Bh usually felt like tightening sensation...no pain. These were actually a little painful and felt like period cramps. I went into work anyway and timed my contractions wanting to make sure I was in actual labor. 

WTG! I love that you took the advice "ignore labor as long as possible" to heart! :) 

My coworkers thought I was crazy for wanting to stay "just one more hour" and jokingly said I would give birth there. After an hr at work I headed home...yes I drove myself. I woke Victor to let him know I was in early labor and tried to get some rest. I wasnt able to sleep but my body got to rest. Unfortunately I didn't do any of the things I envisioned doing in early labor like dancing, sitting on ball, listening to birth playlist and positive affirmations.  

But you were so intuitive and listened to your bodies needs!  

The contractions picked up that afternoon after being on all fours and sitting on the toilet. we left for the hospital around 3 pm. When I got to the hospital I was 5cm. I was hoping to stay home a little longer but I was happy to be dialating. Doula Cole came to assist very quickly. Her presence was very calming. The contractions slowed once we got to the hospital. 

I was a little nervous that you were heading in too early, and we talked about that. Bottom line, though, I trusted your intuition and, if it told you to go in then, I trusted you! :) I headed out soon after your call.  And good thing too... 

I lacked energy and didn't want to get in any positions other than laying down though i knew it wasn't helping to progress labor. Eventually my mucus plug came out. I was checked again and was still 5cms! However I was 90 percent effaced. I wasn't happy to hear this. Cole suggested I sit on the ball contractions and really starting picking up. I was coupling, tripling and quadrupling. I felt discouraged that my contractions were this intense and I was not more dialated. I asked Cole if this was normal and she said some women completely efface then dialate. I tried to remain encouraged.  

We could see your discouragement, but V was such an encouragement to you, staying positive and attending to you so gently but unobtrusively. You seemed to like lying on the ground where it was cool, because you were feeling so hot. So you moved from the ball to the ground, where I put a mat that you could lay on. I took that as a sign you were really picking it up and heading toward birth and your need to get 'grounded' was evident.  

Through out the labor I managed the pain with low moans and envisioned my body and moans pushing the baby down. I tried to keep my body relaxed during contractions instead of tensing and trying to fight what my body was doing. 

You did so well!  

I made trips to the bathroom feeling I had to have a bowel movement. When the contractions came I could feel my body pushing involuntarily.  

I could hear it, but didn't want to say anything until you were ready to acknowledge it.  

I knew that this was a sign of being fully dilated but I couldn't believe I was. After all the nurse has just checked me less than an hour ago. The second time the involuntary pushing occured it was much stronger and I let out a gutteral scream. This time I knew I was pushing. Cole was waiting outside the bathroom door as her suspicion was that I was pushing.  

Victor and I  had been waiting just outside your door, I knew you were going to move into birthing very quickly and it was already a little bit of a task trying to convince the nurse that I wouldn't let you birth on the toilet :) The moment I heard that first real push, Victor and I gave each other thumbs up, we had just been talking about how you were going to be birthing any moment, and grinned at one another before I went dashing in to you and he went dashing for the call button.  

She told Victor to call the nurse. Melissa was in the room before I could even make it back to the bed. She checked me and said "She ten!".  

Actually, she said "She's complete!". You looked at me and said 'what?'. I said it meant you were 10 and could push. You said 'no way!'. :) 

Words cant express how relieved and excited I felt to hear this. Melissa told me to listen to my body as far as pushing and positioning. I specifically wanted to do spontaneous pushing (uncoached) and Melissa and i had discussed this in our prenatal appts. So I listened to my body and did spontaneous pushing for about two pushes then Camille's heartrate rate dropped. 

Melissa said that I needed to to get her out. I got on to my knees and pushed her out that very next contraction.  

You weren't playing with that push. She gave you the 'go' and you did it! 

Victor attempted to catch her but she came out too fast for him to get gloves on! They past her to me thru my legs cord still attached. I couldn't believe she was here! I couldn't believe I had done it! It was an amazingly euphoric, empowering experience.  

Camille Rae was born Oct 1 at 10:27 pm weighing 6 lbs 5 oz 18.5 in long. She came out very alert and cried immediately. The bag of waters didn't break until she was coming out and was almost delivered en caul which is incredibly rare but completely safe.  

She latched on immediately and nursed for about an hour. I couldn't stop staring at her. I couldn't believe she was here! We had an amazing birth team with Melissa and Cole. Victor was so loving and supportive though I could definitely tell he felt helpless lol. We were so blessed to have a great birth experience and a healthy baby girl! 

You were so amazing mama! 

Sharon's Birth Story - A Mama's Retelling

Alicia was a wonderful mama I had the honor of attending in 2011. Today is her first born, Sharon's, 2nd birthday, and Alicia wanted to share her birth story with you all! She was so amazing and strong, a rockstar! I hope her story is an encouragement to any of you who are looking forward to your birthing time.

Sharon's birth story starts, unofficially, in the middle of the night on Wednesday, September 7, 2011. This was the first time that I had felt any contractions, including Braxton Hicks. At the time, I didn't realize they were contractions because they felt too much like menstrual cramps. I remember recognizing they were there, but they weren't strong enough to wake me up. Thursday night, the same thing happened except they were strong enough to wake me up and keep me awake...every. ten. minutes. Ahren was up with me as well because as first-time-parents, "this must be it!" HA! I kept unofficial tabs on the contractions off and on all day Friday while I finished up last minute chores, errands and meal preparation for post-baby. Luckily the contractions didn't make an appearance until 4 or 5 in the morning on Saturday morning which was great because we needed some sleep. Unbeknownst to us, Friday night would be the last night we were going to get a full, uninterrupted night's sleep for a very, very long time. :)

Ahren and I spent the day Saturday taking it easy and resting. My contractions were all over the place, but the intensity had increased enough that I had to work through them a bit. Its possible that my lack of pain tolerance made them seem more intense than they really were, but I did my best to deal with them without making a big deal out of them. Our midwife, Kellie, taught us that it was best to ignore them as long as possible. This was good advice since we had no idea how long our journey to Sharon would be. We watched some TV shows and even started a game of Monopoly to take our mind off of things. My contractions were anywhere from 3-20 minutes apart all day, but as the evening dragged on they got further and further apart. Eventually, I went 45 minutes without a single contraction then all of a sudden, around 9:30pm I had a 4 minute contraction. Not 4 minutes APART, 4 minutes LONG. THAT got our attention. 

I called Kellie and asked her if that was normal and she told me that "I could be getting started'. She suggested getting in the birth pool. She said if this was the real thing, being in the birth pool wouldn't change the frequency of the contractions, they would just keep coming. On the other hand, if it was not quite time, they would space out and possibly fizzle. I was happy to get in the pool. I knew from the record-setting hot summer we had that water and weightlessness was my friend. So into the pool I went. In a matter of 10 minutes, I had 4 contractions. I don't know about you, but that is not what I would consider slowing down. They had picked right up! Truth be told, this shocked us. We were actually a little concerned that Sharon would be here in no time and without our birth team here to help! Needless to say, we got on the phone with Kellie and let her know we'd like her to come over. We also called and asked Cole, our doula and Nicole, our birth photographer to head on over.

 

Kellie arrived around 11pm. I had gotten out of the birth pool in hopes things would slow down a bit. Kellie listened to the baby's heart beat for a long time, through several contractions. Meanwhile, Cole arrived. After Kellie finished listening to the baby, I asked her to check me to see how dilated I was. 4cm and 95% effaced. I was hoping for more progress, but that wasn't too bad. Shortly after Kellie checked me, our birth photographer, Nicole arrived.

We were up all night working through the contractions. I was having some back labor so Cole showed/taught us to use counter pressure and the double hip squeeze. I moved from the couch to standing to the birth ball to my hands and knees to hanging on and swaying with Ahren. I didn't like sitting on the birth ball because there was too much pressure. Come to find out, that is exactly what I needed to progress but it was too uncomfortable and I didn't understand at the time that it probably would have helped me a great deal. I was feeling frustrated because I couldn't find a good position to get into. Maybe I should have realized that I was in LABOR. I probably wasn't going to be COMFORTABLE until the baby was in my arms. :) 

 

During the early morning hours on September 11th I was starting to feel nauseated. I was in the birth pool but still having trouble finding the right position.

I remember alternating between cracking jokes, enjoying labor and being aggravated. I got out of the pool and was walking around becoming more intentional with my steps.  

Ahren was with me the whole time. Cole and Nicole offered to stay with me so he could take a break, but he refused.  

 

Kenna, our English Mastiff would drift in and out to check on me. I'm not sure if she knew what was going on, but her presence was perfect. Not too much and not too little.

Around 6:00am I asked Kellie to check me again to see how far along I was. I was 6cm and 100% effaced, 7cm during a contraction. I was a bit disappointed that in over 6 hours I had only progressed 2cm. I think my disappointment probably set me back a bit. About an hour later, my contractions started to fizzle. I was feeling very tired and worn out by this point and the fact that my contractions were spacing out again really frustrated me. If I was going to have this baby, then the contractions couldn't go away, they had to keep on coming.

From there Kellie and Cole reminded me that sometimes the labor position that I dislike most or that is most uncomfortable is what gets the job done faster. Kellie wanted me to labor on the toilet since you naturally relax your bottom on the toilet. THAT was really uncomfortable. She wanted me to just sit there through contractions and all but I didn't feel like I could. So we made a little deal. I would sit on the toilet through a contraction, get up and walk through the closet and back around to the toilet just in time for the next contraction. Ahren was with me the whole time while I was walking in circles. He was monumental during my labor with Sharon. I was still tensing up and fighting contractions (not on purpose) and the "release" cue we learned in Hypnobabies did the trick in getting me to relax. Ahren would gently touch my forehead and say "release". The birth team said you could just see the tension leave my body.

I remember expressing some fear about pushing and crowning. I was scared of the pain, which could very well be what was keeping my labor from progressing and what was preventing me from going into "labor land". My birth team got me to talk about it to try and release those fears.

At 8:00am walking the stairs was suggested to me. We were hoping to get Sharon to turn a little bit so I could keep progressing. Next up was the birth stool. I didn't like it much but I kept in mind that what was most uncomfortable was what would help me progress.

Around 10:30am my contractions still weren't where they needed to be so Kellie got me started on some herbs to help regulate them and keep them coming. At this point I was beyond exhausted. Spent. Worn out. Couldn't even keep my eyes open any longer. I needed a break and honestly I was starting to doubt that I would be able to continue with out some help (aka going to the hospital).
I didn't dare say anything to Kellie because if I mentioned it to her, she was obligated to take me to the hospital. I knew there wasn't anything wrong with me or Sharon so I felt comfortable staying home. I was just ready for her to be in my arms!

We had to continue to work to get my contractions to stay regular. In addition to the herbs I was taking, we started using the breast pump for nipple stimulation. My legs were so weak from standing up most of the night. It was almost 1:00pm on September 11th. I decided I wanted to get into the birth pool again to give my legs a break. We continued the nipple stimulation. I asked Kellie to check me again, but knowing the results of the last check, she asked me, "Why? What is the information going to tell you? How will it help you?”. I think she was trying to protect me from disappointment if I had not progressed any further. 

I really wanted to know how dilated I was so that I could guess (yeah, right) how much longer our journey to Sharon would be. Since she didn't want to check me, I decided to check myself! Ha!! Its not like I was experienced at all in cervical checks to know whatever it was I was going to be feeling. But what I felt was not what I was expecting to feel. It was sort of soft. I was hoping to feel a head..which wouldn't have been soft. So, Kellie checked me and said I only had a little lip left on my cervix and that I could start pushing. Oh thank Heavens! Finally! I'd been waiting almost 31 hours for this. Little did I know, I still had a good bit of work ahead of me.

Once again I had trouble finding a position that felt right. I was in the pool and the ability to move around with little effort was so helpful. I eventually found that squatting felt best. Ahren offered me his arms to pull myself into position when I wanted to push. While I was resting between pushes Cole braced my back so I could relax. The pushing phase went very slowly. I felt like I was working so hard but not making much progress. With each push I could feel Sharon's head move down a little but when I stopped pushing I felt her head move back up a tiny bit. I remember asking Kellie how long it would take. She said everyone is individual and it just depends. Not really the answer I was looking for :) 

I eventually started feeling the pressure that I had heard so much about. If I reached down I could feel Sharon's head. She wasn't crowning yet but she was right there. I was scared of the "ring of fire" and I told the birth team this. They were encouraging and said it doesn't last long but there is only one way out at this point. I kept pushing. The ring of fire was pretty intense but nothing I couldn't handle. Sharon's head was born and Kellie noticed the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck. She removed the cord and with the next push her body was born! Ahren helped catch Sharon since he was front and center. My eyes had been closed for the majority of the pushing phase because I was so tired. I reached down in the water to grab my baby and bring her to my chest.

Her cord was wrapped around her neck a second time so it wasn't long enough to get Sharon to my chest. Kellie removed the cord from her neck and I held this long-awaited baby for the first time. 

After Sharon was born she had a little trouble with some excess fluid/mucus in her system. We gave some time to see if she could clear it herself but after a few minutes Kellie felt suctioning her would be the best option.

Even after that, Sharon wasn't turning pink as quick as Kellie would have liked so she gave Sharon some oxygen.

 

All of this happened so fast. Our birth team, Kellie, her assistant Pam, and Cole knew exactly what to do. The worked efficiently and did not seemed stressed at all. In turn, Ahren and I were at ease.

About 15 minutes after Sharon was born, we got out of the birth pool. 

Kellie felt like I may have been bleeding more than she was comfortable with but she couldn't know for sure because I was still in the water. Once I was in bed, about 10 minutes later the placenta was born. Kellie noticed it was not whole and in order to prevent an infection she had to hand-scrape my uterus. It certainly didn't feel good but it was quick. I got a shot of pitocin to help my uterus clamp down and stop bleeding. Kellie told us in our class with her that sometimes these things happen. She doesn't like having to "manage' this part of the process but sometimes its necessary. I definitely didn't think I would be one to experience any of what had just happened. I'm just thankful we had Kellie who knew how to handle everything with out question.

 

Sharon latched on to nurse for the first time and she nursed for 2 hours. I had a little trouble figuring out the best way to hold her that was not only comfortable but helped her to maintain the latch. 

 

At one point Pam, Kellie's birth assistant, and Cole were trying to help me with her latch and positioning. 

After Sharon finished nursing Ahren cut the umbilical cord, about 3 hours after the birth.  

 

Kellie did the newborn exam on our bed with us so we could be a part of it. She explained what she was doing and why.

Ahren and I were right there with Sharon to talk to her and comfort her. She was pretty mad. ;) After her exam, Sharon was weighed. 7 pounds, 8 ounces and 19 inches long. 

 

While Sharon was getting checked out, Pam was getting the herbal bath ready for us. The herbs in the bath would help me heal and would help Sharon's cord fall off. The first herbal bath we had is one of my most cherished memories from Sharon's Birth Day. Except while she was nursing, she had been pretty vocal since her birth. Little did we know this was just a taste of what was to come over the next few months. 

Once I got her ears under the water like Kellie advised, she was calm. 

 

She was bright eyed and so alert just taking in all of her surroundings. She had her little fists right up by her jawline and I could imagine that was her favorite position while I was pregnant with her. It makes sense that she calmed down once her ears were under the water...up until a few hours prior that was all she knew. We continued to take herbal baths together twice a day for the next five or six days. Putting her ears under the water always got her to calm down if she was upset. After a while we got out of the bath. Kellie made sure we were all set up and comfortable in bed and then everyone went home.

I was on such a high from all the birth hormones that I could not sleep despite being up for close to 2 days and having had 3 nights of prodromal labor before labor started. Only a few days after Sharon was born I was already looking forward to the birth of my next baby. I "missed" my labor. Sharon's labor and birth was one of the hardest but most rewarding experiences of my life. I don't believe we would have had such a positive and empowering experience had it not been for Kellie and our doula, Cole. 

They were able to tell what would be best for our situation before I could even begin to figure that out. I was able to labor at my own pace, without feeling rushed. But once it was obvious I was frustrated with my lack of progress they stepped in and let me know what I needed to do. I also believe our exceptional birth experience has to do with us being at home. Had we gone to a hospital, with the lack of progression for so long, I probably would have had an "emergency" c-section. Now that we have had one baby at home there will be no question about where we have our next baby.

Happy Father's Day - To Brian

I talk so much about the mamas I work with and the births I attend, but it's almost Father's Day. When I suggested to a few of the mamas I worked with that they take the chance to publicly thank their partners/husbands, the jumped at it. So here's Brianna's (Jennifer's) Father's Day note!

They say that every girl marries a guy just like her dad...well, my dad is an extremely loving, happy, compassionate and wonderful man...and so is my husband, Brian.  Our daughter Brianna absolutely adores her daddy, as do I.  Happy Father's day, Bry, we love you!

Happy Father's Day - To Ahren

I talk so much about the mamas I work with and the births I attend, but it's almost Father's Day. When I suggested to a few of the mamas I worked with that they take the chance to publicly thank their partners/husbands, the jumped at it. So here's Sharon's (Alicia's) Father's Day note!

My name is Sharon and I'm about to tell you about the world's greatest daddy. First, he agreed to go along with my mama's "crazy" idea of a home birth, which turned out to be the best thing for us. You see, she went through 34 hours of labor (not counting 3 nights of off and on contractions) to get me here. We stalled at 6cm for 10 hours. Had we been in a hospital, I would have been a c-section baby and that was the last thing any of us wanted. My daddy stayed with us through it all. We had lots of support at our house during my birth...our midwife, doula, and photographer were all there. He could have taken a break anytime and mama and I would have been just fine but he refused. He wouldn't let any one fuss over his own exhaustion but powered through well into our long labor. He was our rock and support...emotionally and physically. Mama says she'd never seen "that side of him" and my birth is one of her favorite memories of him loving her and them working together.

After I was born, daddy took charge. Mama focused on me and breastfeeding and cuddling and sleeping. Daddy handled the laundry, all the meals (thank goodness mama prepared a whole bunch of freezer meals ahead of time!), kept up the house, took care of the dog, welcomed visitors, became an herbal bath expert and helped us get breastfeeding off to the right start by calling an LC (without being asked!) when we were having trouble.

At the time we lived in a two story house. Bedrooms and a living area upstairs, kitchen and more living area downstairs. To put it all into perspective, mama and I did not go downstairs for 11 DAYS.
And that, my friends, is what you call a rock star daddy!

Happy Father's Day - To Mitchell

I talk so much about the mamas I work with and the births I attend, but it's almost Father's Day. When I suggested to a few of the mamas I worked with that they take the chance to publicly thank their partners/husbands, the jumped at it. So here's Ellie's Father's Day note!

Being pregnant with twins wasn’t in the game plan. So many changes needed to be made to my birth plan, and the threat of a c-section loomed. I felt so broken down. Time and time again you found ways to build me up. You didn’t mind when I called you at work crying about how scared I was. You tolerated my crabbiness. You powered through long nights of my constant tossing and turning. You gave up your days off for doctor interviews, prenatal appointments, and ultrasounds. As my pregnancy was nearing its end, and I was becoming more and more impatient, you reminded me to embrace every moment of it that I had left. You were my perfect supporter during labor and birth. You made me laugh until the contractions took over, you held my hand and gave me strength when I was ready to give up, and above all you believed in me.

It hasn’t been easy going from being a mother or one to a mother of three overnight, but you have kept me afloat. You have been a shining light in my darkest moments. Every single day you help me to be the best parent possible. You might think that I don’t listen, but when you tell me that I’m a good mom, it means everything. Your unconditional love helps me to love myself. 

I love sharing this parenting journey with you. We have embraced a natural lifestyle to ensure that our kids grow up healthy. We have changed our parenting style to ensure that they are happy. You work long days so that I am able to stay home with our babies. Even on our most stressful days I wouldn’t want to parent with anyone else on the planet. I am so proud to be your partner. I am so incredibly glad that our kids have such a strong, loving, and caring daddy to look up to. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of the sacrifices you have made, for all of the support you give, and for the insane amount of love that you give to the kids and me everyday. I love you.

A Birthstory - Given's Smile

Aimee and her husband were clients of mine over a year ago. Their youngest son's birthday is coming up in just a short while and she wanted to share her birth story with all of you. At the same time, she wanted to give you a change to partner with her family in celebrating Given's beautiful smile and life in a very humbling and life-altering way! I am going to let her share her story, as she does it so beautifully!  

I have been struggling to write this for a year. In three weeks it will have been one year since my Given was born. One entire year has come and gone and I still sit here staring at a blank screen because I don’t know how to begin to tell a story like the one of his birth. It is too big and life changing for words. It has loomed over me begging to be told and I feel that I have failed to tell it properly or do it any justice before I even put pen to paper. I feel like I cannot tell something like this and have it really, really be felt that way I felt it or have it change someone to read it the way it changed me to live it. Above all, I want to tell his story so people who haven’t been there can have a glimpse of it and for those who have been there will know they aren’t alone.

I’ll just start. Details have faded over the past year and all of the ins and outs of labor and lengths of contractions seem so unimportant now. They are the things that add structure and timing to a normal birth story. Markers along the way that help you keep the story in order and allow people to make sense of it when they read it later. My story doesn’t have many of those anymore because all of the order and structure and timing was blown away completely when my doctor said the words ‘looks we have a little cleft here.’ Once those words were spoken all of the letters were blown off the page and flew around the room over my head. For a year I’ve been waiting for them to settle so I can arrange them to make sense but I’m sure now that they won’t. My world has been so deeply and irrevocably changed that it’s impossible to make sense of, or remember clearly what happened that day. What has happened to my family is ultimately too beautiful to ever make sense of. I am sure that I am not that talented as a writer or a thinker.

I’ll begin by saying that I had been ready for our second child since our first was only 6 months old. I dove into the deep end of pregnancy and motherhood - loving every second of my new identity and all that came with it. I wanted to do it all over again, it had been so wonderful and mysterious the first time. It solidified all of my desires to have 4 kids, as soon as possible. To have a house full of screaming, running boys (or girls) breaking things and laughing and making our family complete. My husband, on the other hand, waded in up to his knees and needed a minute to feel out the water. He thought I was joking when I held my 6 month old and said ‘let’s do this again. Like, now.’ He actually laughed out loud. So we waited until I literally felt like someone was missing from the backseat of our car. We would drive and I felt like we had left someone behind. Like our family was bigger than this but they just weren’t with us. We tried again, and got pregnant in 3 months. I was completely elated. I am one of those women who enjoys every minute of being pregnant and having babies. Yes, even when I’m huge and swollen and can’t see my toes. Even when I’m in labor and the pain is unimaginable. Especially when I get to hold a warm, sweet life and know that I helped create this beauty inside of my own body. That in a sense, my body went and made it with no real help from me, except to eat and drink and sleep when I should. It is the most magical thing a woman gets to be a part of; a tangible partnership to be a co-creator with God. I am completely convinced of this.

I spent the first half of my pregnancy trying to find a doctor who would let me deliver vaginally. My first son was born via cesarean after 35 hours of natural labor with a midwife. His birth (apart from the miracle that was him) was the hardest thing I had ever been through. Months of growing him and reading books and looking forward to my very first birth experience, carefully choosing a wonderful midwife and birthing center, reading more books on birth and natural birth and labor, and then working for 35 sleepless hours to make it happen, all to have to deliver in a hospital, with an epidural, in a room full of strangers, and not hold or nurse my baby for 3 hours... I had been heartbroken about this. Thankfully my little man had healed these wounds with a close bond and 2 years of breastfeeding. He was, and is, an extension of my heart. But his birth story had broken me on a level I couldn’t fully access. It had taken away my ideals of birth and made me feel less than capable; less than invincible as a Mama.

I looked so forward to being completely healed. That last tiny bit of me that hurt to think about Ransom’s birth story was going to be erased with this one, I just knew it! I searched Houston for midwives who would let me vbac. Birth centers, hospitals, and finally OB-Gyns. No one. I was shocked and frustrated that what I had thought was becoming mainstream and safe was apparently not an option for me. Then, finally, I found him! Dr Tobey Stevens, although I wasn’t his ‘favorite candidate for a successful vbac’ would let me try. It was all I needed. After all, he was just the baby catcher. I already had a doula (the lovely Cole Deelah, who I felt understood me deeply from our first meeting) and a husband to believe in me and help me get there. I was positive that I could vbac. And, vbac I did.

On June 10th, I woke up in Ransoms twin bed with steady and uncomfortable contractions. It was around 7am. I had been sleeping in his room for the past few nights because he had the habit of climbing into bed with us in the middle of the night. Mama, Papa and Ransom plus Mama’s belly was asking too much of our queen bed, so when he came to our bed, I went to his. I got up thinking it may just be practice contractions. Just a few days before I had seen Dr Stevens and heard him say ‘no progress, but you still have a week until you’re due. I’ll see you in a week and we’ll see how long you want to go before we schedule a cesarean.’ The answer? Indefinitely. I suppose my tiny man heard him say that and decided to make his appearance sooner than later. I was so excited to realize that this was labor! Actual, real, rhythmic, increasingly painful LABOR! All of my waiting was about to become a baby. A baby boy, nonetheless. A brother for my little man, a wearer of the precious hand me down clothes I had kept boxed in the closet. Someone to sleep in the space between my husband and I, and who I could finally touch and smell, and love right out here in the open. I couldn’t wait.

I had looked forward so much to labor this time. I actually loved it the first time around. The pain was manageable and the anticipation was overwhelming. I remember clearly everything I ate, everywhere I walked, how we timed contractions meticulously, when we called the midwife. All of it was seared in my brain just as fresh as if it had been yesterday. It was a beautiful out of body experience that I had looked forward to doing again for a long time. (of course minus the hospital bits I mentioned before) This time around was.... different. Good LORD, it hurt. It was sharp and blunt at the same time. It was in my back, my legs, my arms, my belly. It hurt to breathe or move during contractions. All of the pacing I had planned on doing turned into me sitting as still as I possibly could during those squeezes, as if willing myself to be a human statue would make it hurt less. I breathed as slowly and shallowly as I could because I was pretty sure I could feel my lungs in my back. That’s when I first realized how little I really knew of childbirth. We called the doula, and my husband took some birth video which consists mostly of the soccer game that was on, and nervous pacing through the house and staring into the yard. I do make a short cameo appearance, frozen on the bed in a contraction. We passed most of the day like this. Cole came and helped tremendously. She convinced me to leave the bed and try a bath. With Ransom I had fallen asleep in the tub. This time I felt like I might seize in pain and drown, so I got out. She worked doula magic by slinging my belly with a scarf and gently shifting it back and forth until (I believe) he turned and the pain subsided significantly. I hung from Edward’s shoulders, I hung from a scarf over a doorway, and finally I allowed her to check me.

I remember you wanting to know but not wanting to know - asking how far I thought you were. You asked every question about how far you might be except that one - how far dilated you were. When you finally did ask, it took you a good while to decide you really did want to know. I felt that there was something holding you back from the information.

I had been laboring for 10 hours and was fully expecting her to find me at a 9 so we could make the final trek to the hospital. I wasn’t about to march in there at a 3 and have them mess up the experience for me.

She found that I was at a 2, maybe a 3. I sunk. Ransom’s birth suddenly was all over me. The hours and hours working at home. Going to the midwife to be sent home again. Going back hours later to find no progress. Having my cervix manually opened because it seemed completely lost as to what it was supposed to be doing. 35 hours and a surgery. Please, God, not again. NOT again.

And I believe that that was what was holding you back; the last remnants of another birth were hanging onto you. You went into yourself then, working through things that you didn't articulate to us. But things were definitely changing, and fast. Your contractions were strong and there was a mental giving over/up - just as you had been doing all along with your body; this was crucial.

We decided to go to the hospital in the hopes that being there, where I had decided to be, would speak to my body subconsciously and allow me to progress. We loaded the car and left and the whole way there I prayed and thought and prayed some more. I needed this baby to come out the ‘right’ way. The way I had missed before. The way I had been dreaming of.

When you stepped out of the car, your face was flushed and resolute. This was a different woman.

When we arrived at the hospital, 12 hours into labor, I was a 7. Praise God, this baby was coming out the front door! I was blessed with nurse who allowed me to stay in my own gown from home, and looked the other way (or really didn’t see) when I ate grapes and crackers and drank water. I wasn’t about to fool around with ice chips at this point in the game. My body needed food. And rest - I had been going and blowing pretty hard since 7 am and when 8 pm rolled around I realized that even if I was allowed to push right then I was sure I wouldn’t be able to do it. My mind was engaged, but my body was completely sacked. Somehow I just knew that if I didn’t get real rest before ‘go time’ I would end up in surgery again. There was literally nothing I dreaded more. SO, much to my own surprise I actually asked for an epidural. A partial, because I wanted to move and change positions and be somewhat in control of my body, but an epidural nonetheless so I could rest. So I could vbac. It was a sacrifice I was more than willing to make for what felt to me like certain vbac.

Once the drugs were on board I could rest. I slept for a short time, and Edward took the opportunity to pass out on the mini-couch-chair things they keep in delivery rooms. He looked so horribly uncomfortable when I woke up, but insisted on not folding it out. I’m sure he thought if he folded it out that he would be in a deep sleep when the baby came and would miss it. After a short nap I couldn’t sleep at all. The pain had been numbed and the excitement took over and then my labor completely stalled out at a 9. I mean, stalled for hours. To this day I’m torn about the epidural because if I hadn’t had one it’s likely he would have been born on the 10th, but he probably would have been a cesarean birth which I’m sure would have put me over the proverbial ‘edge’. So, stalled at the very edge of my new life, my doula and I had a slumber party. We talked about my son, and her kids, and this baby who was just waiting at the gate, and we talked about names and why the meanings are so deeply important to us, and life, and we (at least, I) ate those awful hospital rainbow popsicles until the wee hours of the morning, and the later hours of the morning. I would doze off to wake up and see her sitting up still, right next to me. She was a willing and enthusiastic sentinel. She got coffee and snacks for Edward, she rubbed my back, she forgave me for slapping her hand away when pain had taken away my ability to use words. She was incredible. At one point we had a good laugh because she fell asleep sitting in her chair, face down at the foot of my bed and woke up with waffle print on her face from the hospital blanket. It was a well deserved nap that I was glad she took.

That's what I got for sleeping on the job!

I had a stubborn bag of water, so after all of this time it was bulging but still intact and showing no signs of weakness, so I agreed to an artificial rupture. My doctor (who had shown up Monday morning) believed I’d progress quickly if we did that, and turned out to be right. A short time later I was allowed to push, and push I did! God, how I love to push. It’s like that first gasp of air you take after being too deep in the pool - just bursting through the surface and inhaling for all your life is worth. It’s a total release from all of the painstaking work of contractions and a promise that the baby - MY BABY is almost here! A few hours of pushing and he’ll be in my arms, perfect and sweet and suckling at my breast. I could just about taste it. I was also pushing that little epidural clicker for all I was worth - what felt like every 5 minutes to me, and it wasn’t working. At all. I was later told that I only pushed it about every 30 minutes, but good lord it wasn’t working! I could feel my legs and feet again - and I don’t mean numb, tingly feeling, I mean I could FEEL. At the time I wanted anything but to feel all of it, but now I look back and am so deeply thankful that the (originally unwanted) epidural did it’s job of letting me rest, and then backed off so I could also have the feelings of vaginal birth I had longed for. I wanted to know where he was, and how fast he was moving, and feel him join the world for the very first time.

You moved your baby down so fast! And I truly believe it was because you could feel the pressure and a little of the pain.

And I did. I worked, and Edward and Cole worked, and the nurses worked, and Dr Stevens came in just in time to catch my baby boy as he fell from my body and breathed air into his precious lungs for the first time. 28 hours after I woke up in labor, I felt him leave me and arrive all at once, and all at once I was healed of the years of hurt I had endured over a broken birth experience with my first. The physical scar I carried may as well have been erased and I was whole as a mother and as a woman. And then he said it. He spoke the words that broke me all over again. ‘Looks like we have a little cleft here.’

From there my life changed forever, and it’s where the story gets a little fuzzy for me now. I changed, and my family changed so much that I don’t really remember what I was like before those words were spoken. See, Given had been in there just as he was the whole time. He never changed or wavered from who God was making him in my belly, but all of a sudden the baby I had pictured and talked to, and sang to, and loved was ... not what I thought he’d be. He seemed like a stranger to me for just one split second.

I vaguely remember saying something like ‘I don’t care, give him to me.’

You did say 'Give him to me'. :)

Cole took beautiful photos the entire time and I have relived this day over and over through them. This is one of my favorites because of my hand in the left corner. I couldn't wait to have him in my arms.

I wanted to hold him first and although I’m sure it was seconds, I felt like they were hogging him and he was mine. What was taking so long? I wanted to be the one to snuggle and wipe him down, to kiss his head and make him feel safe. They wrapped him in a towel and handed him to me. I remember seeing his little face for the first time. So beautiful and so broken open at the same time. His grey eyes blinked and looked for me, and when we met each others gaze we both knew we would be alright. He was absolutely gorgeous. The gaping hole in the middle of his tiny face broke my heart for him, but I knew we’d be alright. Aside from the wide open cleft that gave him a permanent look of shock, his face was so expressive and inquisitive, and calm. He spoke to me without words and we fell in love. I looked at my husband, and with both of us crying, said ‘he’s perfect. He’s so perfect.’

I love this photo, taken just seconds after we saw him for the first time

It was then that the rest of the room gave a collective sigh and then cried. A beautiful family - joined together for the first time. And it was sacred.

hello papa

Then the questions came. Can he nurse? Does it hurt? Can he take a pacifier? What do we do now? Answers were there for some of them, but not all. ‘You can try’ and ‘no’ and ‘sort of’. My picture perfect daydream of taking him home, nursing him and co-sleeping was shattered. All of a sudden my crunchy, granola, natural mama routine seemed out of date and insignificant. Eating organic wouldn’t fix this cleft. We can’t co-sleep because he can’t breastfeed. I fooled myself for a few days into thinking we could work out a way for him to latch. The nurses knew better. They brought me a pump the first night and I have a love/hate relationship with it to this day. We went through weeks of syringe-feeding and trying different bottles, sleep deprivation, spit up, reflux, worse reflux and gas pain. I had never heard a baby so tiny burp like a man and hopefully never will again. He had such painful, body shaking burps. Because of a 13mm wide complete unilateral cleft (which just means the right side of his mouth is open front to back, all the way into the nasal cavity) he swallowed air constantly. He burned about as many calories as he took in because eating was so much work. But Lord, that boy loved, and still loves, to eat!

Our first night in the hospital was surreal. He slept in my arms and in his little plastic bin next to my bed. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. The doctors wanted his blood sugar monitored to check for gestational diabetes. It surprised me because at 8lb, 2oz he was my little baby. I’m pretty sure now they just wanted to see that he was eating something. I made my husband follow him to the nursery and back anytime he went. The nurses could tell I hated to see him go and they graciously let Edward stay right by his side anywhere he went. He passed his hearing test which everyone was happy about because it meant that he wasn’t deaf. He could have been deaf?! We were learning more than we ever thought possible in such a short time. I had been put in touch with a cranio-facial team in Houston and we had appointments set up before we even went home. I had personal phone numbers to keep in touch over the weekend ‘in case we needed anything.’ What could I possibly need that badly?

On the first morning in the hospital he was already beginning to look 'normal' to me and I just couldn't stop kissing that sweet face

In the days and weeks following his birth, we were flooded with love from friends and family. We were also flooded with questions we couldn’t answer, and suggestions and recommendations, and contacts and doctors appointments. We were assured that he’d be fine because this, or that celebrity had a cleft and look at them now. I remember thinking that I wasn’t worried about how he would look. I was worried because he couldn’t eat or speak properly. He couldn’t just be comfortable and nurse himself to sleep. Everything was such hard work. We felt like we were barely treading water and just when I felt my face going under each time I would hold him and he would look knowingly at me, or nuzzle closer into me and it would all be alright again. And then came the smile. That incredible, heart melting, wide smile was worth every millimeter of the cleft. He was my life saver through it all. He was worth every bit of the unknown, and fear, hurt. Because, you see, he brought all of the joy and beauty and wholeness as well. There wasn’t anyone missing from our backseat anymore and that was the most important thing I could imagine.

My boys! For the record, Ransom never flinched. He said he wanted to give him kisses, and afterwards would draw pictures of Given's 'pretty little lips'

And after months of horribly difficult treatments, and pumping exclusively for almost a year now, and a surgery behind us and one ahead, we are in a place that we can look back from and see how much we’ve grown. Given is a gorgeous, mischievous, happy boy who would follow his big brother to the ends of the earth. We call him Tiny because he’s a little guy, but it doesn’t reflect his personality at all. If I had the power to go back and take his cleft away, I wouldn’t. I hate it for all of the hurt and frustration it has causes him and us, but I also know that it is a gift. Without it, he just wouldn’t be him. We wouldn’t have grown and changed and sought God the way we have. We wouldn’t have anything to give to other parents who are surprised with cleft babies in their lives. We wouldn’t have our hearts truly broken for all of the children and mothers and fathers affected by this all over the world. Those changes in us have been deep and are lasting, and they are invaluable to me, just as Given is. In a way they were his, and God’s gift to us.

When I think about his birth now, the one thing that stands out to me the most is what he taught me in the first moments I held him; my first of many lessons from Given. I took him in my arms and kissed him and he stopped crying almost immediately. We said hello to each other and I offered him my breast, not knowing what else to do for him and praying he could nurse. He immediately went to work. He knew exactly what to do and had no idea that his body wouldn’t let him do it. He had no clue that he was anything less than perfect and that’s what made me realize that he was right. He wasn’t anything less than perfect. He wanted to nurse, and I wanted it for him but it just wasn’t meant to be. What I realized by his enthusiasm in that moment was that he was not a victim of his cleft. In his eyes, he was complete and made just exactly as he was meant to be. He knew nothing about deformities or brokenness. All he knew is that I was his Mama, and he was my baby and we were meant for each other.

That is what I think of in the moments of weakness when I want to feel sorry for myself, or for him. He is only a victim if I make him one and he deserves more from me than that. All I need to know and teach him is that I am his Mama, and he is my perfect baby and we are meant for each other. I am truly so grateful that he was meant to be mine.





One year ago our sweet Given was born with a cleft lip and palate. Even with all of the amazing resources we have had at our fingertips, the past year has been (sometimes excruciatingly) difficult in a lot of ways. We have been so incredibly blessed to have access to specialized bottles, pumps, medicines, teams of doctors and emotional support. Given has had everything he could possibly need to thrive and be happy, and is doing incredibly well. He makes us laugh everyday and brings us so much joy.

To celebrate his first birthday, in lieu of traditional gifts, we are asking our friends and family to consider partnering with us in giving a gift to a child born with a cleft that doesn't have the resources they need. It's so easy to change a child's life and it is such a deeply meaningful and lasting gift. Given will have his second surgery on June 14th, just 3 days after he turns one. We are believing that we can raise enough money to provide 2 surgeries for another child by that date. It only costs $240 for one surgery!

Go here to make a donation:
http://support.operationsmile.org/goto/given_sanchez

Here is a video with a little more information about what Operation Smile does:

I hope to see many many smiles changed through the selfless giving of my friends, family, and readers. Let's make Given's first birthday even more amazing (if possible) than it already is! Thank you, family Sanchez, for sharing your journey with us and for allowing me the privilege of knowing your wonderful family.