My Baby is Disaster-Ready

Have you ever heard that saying people use when they are validating that someone is weird? They say, “We all have our quirks”. I’m familiar with this phrase because I’m almost certain that people use that phrase to describe me. If you know me on a personal level, I just might be one of the quirkiest people you have ever met. 

My entire life one of the weird things I have tried to hide about myself is that I am always and will forever be, disaster-ready. My mind is always thinking about what the worst possible outcome could be and then I make preparations or take precautions accordingly. When my gas tank is nearing the quarter mark I have to fill it up because what if I get stuck in a horrible traffic jam and I really need to pee? If I run out of gas I will be trapped who knows where with a full bladder. Disaster!

I’m not surprised that my need to be disaster-ready has only grown immensely worse since having Grace. When we leave the house, her diaper bag is always freshly stocked with everything she could possibly need to survive. And I absolutely have to carry that diaper bag with us when we run into the store to grab some milk because what if we get trapped inside during a tornado warning? What then? If I leave her diaper bag that I have transformed into a kit for survival in the car where I can’t get to it, my poor baby could be stuck with a dirty diaper and a very red tooshie requiring medication that can only be found in the magic bag! That’s a totally normal thought process for a mom to have right? No?

With Christmas quickly approaching my thoughts are spiraling towards preparations for our bi-annual trip to San Diego to see family. We will have over a week of relaxing family time, insanely good cooking by Seth’s mom, and some therapeutic visits to the beach. So how could any person in their right mind be dreading anything about a vacation to California? Having to be the people who ruin everyone else’s flight by bringing a baby on the airplane is a role I have been dreading my entire life. In my mind I won’t just be preparing for a potential disaster, I will be trying to plan for an inevitable one.

My brain feels like it could explode when I think about all the things that could go wrong. The regular “baby” scenarios like getting puked on while we are dropping off our baggage are of course on my mind but they aren't what are giving me high anxiety. I think I’m pretty accustomed to the fact that Grace will decide to puke or poop at the absolutely more inopportune time. What I’m trying not to stress out about are all the possibilities for complete disaster like missing our flight, turbulence that makes Grace cry for three hours, or dangerous weather conditions causing us to get stranded in a different state. I once heard from a friend that her and her husband were stuck on a plane overnight with their four-month old. I can literally feel my blood pressure rising just thinking about it.

I hate when my disaster-ready brain is an inconvenience to people so I often get nervous when I feel my quirk is about to be exposed. Last year at Christmas we had just found out we were pregnant and there was no way I was going to willingly walk through the airports “safe” x-ray machine at security because I was, of course, thinking about all the complications it could cause for our rapidly growing fetus. I kept practicing my line over and over in my head. When I got to the security guard I was going to very politely ask if I could deny the x-ray machine and request a pat down.  When it was my turn my heart was racing and I could feel the perspiration starting to build on my forehead. I was so nervous I got a classic case of saying the wrong thing. Instead of asking for a pat down I asked the guy if I could be “felt up”. He just stared at me and I hadn’t even realized that I had said the completely wrong thing. I didn't understand why he looked so stunned so I quickly pointed to my belly and started rambling about how I was pregnant and couldn’t go through the x-ray machine. A few seconds later I replayed our conversation in my head and felt my face turn bright red as I realized I had just asked the guard to feel me up. 

Like I said earlier, I will probably never be able to stop acting like I think the worst possible scenario is about the happen. I could, however, probably benefit from reigning it in just a little, especially when it causes me to ask complete strangers to feel me up. 

Blessings,

Shantastic 

My Baby Farted Through Thanksgiving

I love the holidays. As I say that you can picture me wearing an over-sized “grandma” sweater with a cup of steaming hot coffee in my hand and a ridiculously sappy smile on my face. I’m the kind of person who puts decorating the Christmas tree on my top ten favorite things to do. The holidays are in my opinion the best time of the year. Who’s with me? I love the family time, the feasts of homemade food, the smell of pine trees in my living room, and the holly jolly music you only listen to one month out of the year.

Gracie was born just barely before the beginning of the holiday season. Her birth at the end of August marked the end of summer and the beginning of fall. Two short months later it was time for her first Halloween. Then just last week she had her first Thanksgiving, and in another month she will celebrate her first Christmas. It’s a very exciting time for a first-time mom.

Once little miss Grace joined us I didn’t want to waste any time in starting to create our own family traditions. A few weeks after she was born I told Seth I really wanted us to take her to an apple orchard. On our way there I thanked Seth for agreeing to make this trip on his day off even though Gracie won’t remember a single part of it. He laughed and said that he was, of course, happy to spend time with us. Then he said, “Shan, you’re an “All-American” girl. When it’s Halloween you want to carve pumpkins, when it’s Easter you want to paint eggs. And in the fall you want to go pick apples. And that’s ok with me.”

When I was growing up my dad was the one who instilled a love for family traditions in me. The night before Christmas we always listened to the same ancient record with a story of how Rudolph lost his red nose. Then on Christmas morning I would always run to see if “Santa” had eaten my cookies and left a note. Of course, there was always a friendly letter waiting for me. The cutest part is my dad changed his handwriting so I wouldn’t recognize it. When I was little I always thought Santa had the coolest handwriting and would try to mimic it for the next couple days. These unique traditions gave me so many things to look forward to as a kid. I hope Gracie appreciates the traditions Seth and I create for her.

So, how have I responded to my baby experiencing some of our family traditions for the first time? Even though she will have no memory of her first Halloween, you can bet your entire stash of tricks and treats that I dressed her up in an adorable costume. It was a pretty big deal for me that we didn’t carve pumpkins this year. But next year I will look forward to watching her dig her hands inside her pumpkin and pull out a handful of gooey sticky mess. We may have had a pumpkin-less Halloween but I would still call it a success because she ended up in a tiny giraffe costume complete with a hat and boots. She may have only been awake for five minutes of it but I got about a thousand pictures and videos to prove it. I’m not sure if I would call Thanksgiving a success but it was still memorable. She pretty much farted, cried, and slept the entire day. If she ever asks us what her first Thanksgiving was like we will tell her even though she was a cranky pants the whole day it was still the best Thanksgiving we’ve ever had because she was there.

I think I will always be an over-sentimental tradition-loving mom. When it’s Fall I will orchestrate a yearly family outing to an apple orchard and for Halloween I will compete with my kids to see who can create the spookiest pumpkin carving. I might even dust off on my Santa handwriting skills just for Gracie’s enjoyment. My little family traditions always made me feel special. As a kid my childlike brain would think, “I bet no one else’s family does this” even though tons of them probably did. Nevertheless it made me feel special to see my parents going out of their way to make the holidays fun.

I know Christmas is about more than just family fun but I do think it makes the Lord happy to see all the love and cheer. It’s crucially important to Seth and I to teach Gracie about who Christ is and why we celebrate His birth, and it’s also imperative that we raise her in a family that makes faces on squash-like fruits and invents silly handwriting.

Blessings,

Shanna

My Baby Danced with her Daddy

Before having Grace there were certain things Seth and I swore we wouldn’t do when we became parents. We promised we wouldn’t be the couple that never gets a babysitter, we wouldn’t let our kids sleep in our bed on a regular basis, and we absolutely would not listen to “little kid” music in the car. I love my little girl with my whole heart, but I draw the line at listening to the “Wiggles” on my way to the grocery store. I know I’ll have to put up with listening to her kiddie music sometimes, but we all have our limits.

Maybe I am so particular about where I draw the line with music because it has always been a focal point in my life. I listen to music while I do the dishes, work on editing photos, and straighten my hair. The car is no exception to my melodious lifestyle. I’m a lover of almost all styles of music. I hate to admit that I even have a soft spot for the songs with ridiculously inappropriate lyrics and awesome beats. When one of those songs would come on when I was in the car with Seth, I would have fun freaking him out by showing him I had memorized the rapping. He would always laugh and go, “Babe. How do you know this stuff??” I would take a break between verses and say, “I know, I really shouldn’t know this.” 

Since having Gracie I’ve started to filter my music selection. I know she is too young to understand what any of the words mean, but does she really need to be exposed to hearing about how Shorty with the Apple Bottom jeans got “low”? Probably not. Plus, she will eventually be able to understand the lyrics, so this change would have to come someday.  I figured I might as well grow up and get it over with. I probably don't need to be hearing about how Shorty gets low either. 

I love listening to Christian music around her because I want her to grow up hearing the name of Jesus. As far as Christian music goes though, there’s some really good stuff out there but there’s also some that I literally can’t stand to listen to. However, my tolerance has slightly grown since having Gracie, maybe having a kid softens you a little. A song came on the other day that I normally would have switched off because it’s just a little too “sweet” for me. But as I started paying attention to the lyrics my heart started to swell with a memory from my own life. Now that I get to add “mom” to my resume and I am married to a “dad” there are so many more things in life that I can connect to. The lyrics tell a story about a dad who dances with his daughter throughout her life. First, they dance together while she is a little girl pretending to be Cinderella. Then as she gets older they dance together before she goes to prom, and then finally they dance at her wedding. The part that pulled at my heartstrings was where the singer says, 

“So I’ll dance with Cinderella while she is here in my arms. 'Cause I know something the prince never knew. I’ll dance with Cinderella, I don't want to miss even one song. 'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight and she'll be gone.” 

I got so emotional because I remembered a moment a few weeks ago where Seth grabbed Gracie and said, “Come here Sweety, we’re going to dance cheek to cheek.” And he danced around the living room with her in his arms. I now have a daughter and she has a dad who dances with her. That song is literally my life. It’s so exciting to be at the beginning of the song, and know that we have many years of dancing with her.

It was so sweet I had to grab our video camera and record a few seconds of it. We’ve had so many people tell us how fast kids grow up so we have tried really hard to be intentional about seizing magic moments with her. I wrote in a previous post about making sure I don’t let myself get distracted with all my tasks and take those moments to just lay with her on the couch. Thankfully I got to capture this magic moment between my daughter and her daddy. I always smile when I watch it, maybe it will bring a smile to your face too.

Blessings,

Shantastic :)

My baby is wealthy

I apologize for my short leave of absence on the blog! If you haven’t completely forgotten about me, and are still here I want to say thank you. I had to take a temporary break from the blog because I got so busy with photo sessions. Great news for the stay-at-home mom who is trying to help contribute financially to the family! God has been proving once again that He is providing everything we need. It recently became time to pay our hospital bills, which we had been dreading because we didn’t want to have to use up a chunk of our savings. Being on one income makes it much harder to replenish money back into savings. The day our bills were due I had just gone to the bank and deposited the money from my most recent photo shoots. The amount we had to pay was almost the exact amount I had just deposited! Amazing!

We also had family visit us for a week and I got to be the photographer for a three-day conference. Busy Busy Busy! Any spare time has been spent snuggling my little one, feeding her, and of course giving her lots of kisses. Even though I haven’t physically written a blog in a few weeks, my inner monologue has still been dialoging away throughout the day! It already feels therapeutic to let some of my thoughts start floating around on the Internet. It’s nice to have busy seasons sometimes but I am definitely glad to be settling back into a life that allows me to share my thoughts with you every week.

Even though it has only been a few weeks since my last post, it feels like it has been months. Grace is changing so fast! Since my last post she has outgrown an outfit for the first time. (I’m trying really hard to not be sad about this. I stated in a previous post that I would not be sad and embrace the changes that come in babyhood. Much easier said than done!) Before we had her everyone told us about how babies fit into their newborn clothes for two seconds and then they already outgrow them. Grace must be an exception to that rule. She was just under seven pounds when we took her home from the hospital and she has been wearing teeny tiny newborn clothes ever since! However, she must have hit a growth spurt over the last few weeks because now most of her pants are capris and her feet have finally reached the bottom of some of her pajama onesies. And now she smiles just about every time I look at her. Ever since she started smiling I feel like I spend the majority of my day leaning over her trying to get her to smile. Every time she does feels like a victory. It never gets old. It’s the best feeling because she won’t smile until she locks eyes with me and sees that I’m smiling at her. I love watching her take it in, receive it, and then willingly smile back at me. The highlight of all her recent milestones happened just this past weekend. Seth was making dinner in the kitchen and I was sitting on the floor next to Gracie working on some editing. She was in her alert active mood and kept making little noises while she flailed her arms and legs. Then without any warning she made a noise and her voice went up an octave, cracked, and then slid back down. Seth and I immediately burst out laughing and spent the next five minutes hovering over her trying to get her to do it again.

At the end of October she also got to see Seth’s mom for the second time and meet her great-grandma and great-grandpa on that side of the family for the first time. It’s so neat as a parent to watch members of your family love on your child. And it’s humbling to see how immediate their love is. Grace hasn’t had to do anything to earn their love, and still they are captivated by her. Soon after Seth’s family arrived him and I were standing in the kitchen watching his grandma hold Grace in the living room and sing to her. I whispered to him, “It’s so neat to see how much they love her”. He smiled as he watched Grace gaze up at her great-grandma and whispered back, “Grace is so rich and she doesn’t even know it.”

Right away when Seth said the comment about Grace being rich I was a little confused because my first instinctual thought was of course relating being rich to having an overflow of money. I feel extremely blessed to be in the financial situation we are in right now but his comment didn't really make sense to me. We may have everything we need but we aren't living life like Donald Trump. We have to be careful with our money but we are definitely blessed. Then I felt a little foolish when I realized he meant Gracie is rich in the things in life that really matter. She has two parents who love her unconditionally, four grandparents who would literally leap in front of a bullet for her, six great-grandparents who melt every time they see her, two uncles who have sworn to protect her at all costs, and an outpouring of extended family, church family, and friends. Gracie may wear clothes from Goodwill and have parents who clip coupons but she is so rich. She has an overflow of people who love her, and in life that is what really matters.

Blessings,

Shantastic

8 Weeks with Grace: Momma Bear

I’ve never been a confrontational person. If I’m upset I would rather shut down and think about how I feel than confront the person who has upset me. I can only recall a few moments in my life when I was able to stare someone down and give them “a piece of my mind”. I have to be really emotionally involved to get worked up enough to actually confront someone in the heat of the moment.

A couple years ago Seth and I were at a winter retreat with the high school youth group that Seth led. We had been with that group of students for about six months and had begun to solidify some strong relationships. On the last day of the retreat the staff of the camp wanted to take a large group photo that included all the other youth groups and leaders. Towards the end of the photo session when everyone was still all squished together we started to feel chunks of snow and ice hit our faces. Our students began to cover their heads and try to find safety. As the balls of ice continued to fly through the air and pelt people’s faces, one of the girls who I had become very close with got smoked in the eye. I saw her fall to the ground in pain clutching her face and that was it. I had had enough.

Have you ever seen one of those videos where people are trying to observe the natural habitat of bears and all of a sudden one of the bears goes completely crazy and tries to attack everyone? It was as if a flip had been switched in my brain and I was no longer the quiet, mild-mannered Kindergarten teacher. It was my responsibility to keep those girls safe and something was threatening them. Apparently I found that completely unacceptable.

I found the culprit of all the mayhem standing about 30 feet away from us. He continued to pick up snow with his lacrosse stick as I marched towards him. He began to lift the stick in the air and as soon as I got close enough I snatched the stick right out of his hands and threw it to the ground. Then I got right in his face and screamed, “That is enough!! People are getting hurt and you are DONE!” I gave him one last look of disappointment, turned on my heels, and walked away. As I spun my body around I turned to see Seth standing ten feet away with his jaw hitting the ground. He had never seen me act like that. I had never seen me act like that!

Shortly after we had Gracie I had a dream that some freaky people tried to kidnap her so I went crazy on them and saved my daughter. I woke up from the dream and realized with complete certainty that I would literally do anything to keep my baby girl safe. I read a quote recently that explains how I feel perfectly. It said, “No one will ever understand the strength of my love for you. After all you’re the only one who knows what my heart sounds like from the inside.”

Even though the strength of my love for her is fierce, I know I can’t always protect her from all the pains that will come in life. Last week she had to get her first set of immunizations. I helplessly pressed my forehead to her cheek while her face turned red and she sounded like she stopped breathing because she was screaming so hard.

The bears you see in the videos that go completely crazy are usually moms who think their babies are being threatened. I won’t be able to protect her from everything forever but I can tell you one thing. As long as she needs me, I will always be Momma Bear for her.

Did you ever have to go “Momma Bear” for your little one?

Blessings,

Shantastic 

7 Weeks with Grace: Beyond Measure

During the four years I spent in California I felt like my life was completely unbalanced. In some ways I was the happiest and saddest I had ever been. I was incredibly happy in my marriage but heartbroken about missing my family. I had always wanted to get out of Minnesota because I hate everything about winter, but the moment I moved away I realized I had left my heart there. I tried to make San Diego my home and even made some life-long friends, but there was nothing I could do to replace my family. I always knew I was close with my parents and my brother, but I didn’t know just how close we were until I left. When I imagined living the rest of my life away from them and raising my children without them, it broke my heart.

I also felt so guilty for not being satisfied with the time I did have with my family. There are so many people who don’t have family at all. I felt like a greedy child always wanting more. As a Christian I knew I had to be wherever it was God was calling me to be and for those four years I know I was supposed to be in San Diego. It was the only thing that gave me strength to persevere when my heart ached to be near my family.  

I also struggled with feeling very selfish and greedy when I thought about the things I wanted for my life. I felt bad because Seth and I had our basic needs met such as a roof over our head and food in our cupboards. I tried so hard to surrender wanting to own a home and be a stay-at-home mom when we had children. Owning a home and living a life on one income would have been incredibly challenging in San Diego. The Lord can make anything a reality, but honestly, I really struggled with believing that my future would be what I yearned for. I didn’t just want to be a stay-at-home mom for my children; I felt like I had to.

I have prayed and asked the Lord for many things over the years. His answer has always been yes, no, or wait. Waiting was always the hardest answer because in some ways it is easier to get just get the no, deal with it and move on. After our third year in California I finally admitted to myself how badly I wanted to move back to Minnesota. This made our fourth and final year in San Diego very tough because I was waiting for an answer the entire time. I remember telling the Lord that if we were supposed to stay in California then I needed Him to change my heart because I couldn’t do it on my own. 

After four years of feeling unbalanced I now get to say I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. For the last seven weeks I have gotten to be a stay-at-home mom with my little girl. And I’m writing this post from my parents’ house because we felt like making a weekend visit. Sometimes God answers our prayers with no, sometimes He says we have to wait, and recently in my life He decided to bless me by saying yes…to everything.

When it all started falling into place I felt a little bit in shock. We moved back to Minnesota, got pregnant, bought a house, and saw my family every few weeks. After Gracie arrived and I officially became a stay-at-home mom I kept feeling like I was bracing myself. Something bad or unfavorable had to be bound to happen right? Then one day as I was walking around the yard with our dogs I was praying and thanking the Lord for everything He had blessed me with. I said something along the lines of, “I can’t believe you gave me everything I had hoped for.” For some reason it’s relatively easy for me to believe God is real and that He has an infinite love for us, but I was having so much trouble believing that same God would literally give me everything I hoped for. Almost immediately I heard words on my heart coming from the Lord. He said, “Shan, of course I was happy to give you the desires of your heart. I delight in it just as much as you do. Now it's time to embrace it.”

A few days ago I walked into our living room and found Seth snoozing on the couch with Grace. This picture is what sparked this entire post. I kept staring at the two of them thinking, “God, you have blessed me beyond measure.” 

I'd love to hear about the seasons of your life where you felt blessed beyond measure :)

Blessings,

Shantastic :)

6 weeks with Grace: Pooping out a Pumpkin

In college I was walking on campus with one of my friends and we saw a mom and her toddler walk by. I immediately erupted into girly shrieks of, “Ohmygosh that baby is SOOOO cute!!!” My friend laughed, shrugged her shoulders and gestured towards the kid as she said, “Isn’t it funny? That does nothing for me.”

Every time I see a baby I always have that same reaction. All I want to do is squish their little cheeks and give them snuggles. When I found out I had to pick an emphasis for my elementary education degree I didn’t even have to think about my decision. It was automatic. I read through the list where I found choices like middle school math and then I came across ‘Preprimary: Birth-6^th Grade’. Who would want to be doing math equations when you could be playing with a baby? I was sold.  

I have always been a conscientious student so going into motherhood I felt like I had a wealth of knowledge and experience I could pour into my new life with my little one. There have been times in our six weeks with Grace that I have known exactly what to do. I’ve felt like Supermom solving all the problems and putting out the fires. However, I knew my “powers” had their limitations and that I would undoubtedly experience situations that would render me clueless.  Gracie has definitely stumped me many times!

One area they completely left out of our college-level curriculum was the gross stuff. Yes, I’m going to talk about baby poop now and my utter lack of experience with it. Once Grace stopped having the newborn tar-like poop, I expected her first big stinky would be green or yellow. As I peeled back her diaper the question that immediately popped into my head was, “Why does it look like my baby just pooped out a pumpkin?” A little Google research taught me that when it comes to baby poop, yellow, green and orange are all on the table.

It’s also safe to say that I am no expert when it comes to baby bodily fluids. I was clueless on the poop and I also had no idea what a normal amount of spit up was. One day I texted Seth asking him how far vomit had to fly for it to be considered, “projectile”. I logged onto the always-reliable Internet and did a quick definition search. It said that projectile means the puke flies a couple feet in the air and hits the wall or furniture completely missing mom and baby. So in this case it was actually a good thing that I had partially digested breast milk running down the entire right side of my body. My baby doesn’t have projectile vomit. Yay!

Gracie is also educating me in the many forms of newborn bodily functions. I seriously had no idea babies fart so much! And she farts with the force of a grown man. She has no shame and it’s hilarious. There have been many instances when we have had guests over, Gracie lets one rip, and everyone laughs and glances around trying to see who is going to own up to farting in public. I usually wait a second for dramatic effect and then rat Gracie out by pointing to her. Everyone always gives me a look of shock and says, “No way! That was her?!”

Just like every new mom, I’m learning as I go. I love the times when I get to be Supermom but I am also learning to embrace the teachable moments. Have I already called the pediatrician about something that turned out to be no big deal? Yes.  Do I now consider myself a master at creating the perfect swaddle? Sure. Am I still prepared to be completely and utterly clueless half the time? Absolutely.

What did you feel clueless about?

Blessings,

Shantastic

5 weeks with Grace: My baby is not a toad

It may be because I am her mom, but when Grace is in her attentive mood her eyes are seriously mesmerizing. Part of what makes them so hypnotic is their coloring. They are the most beautiful shade of steel blue with a misty gray ring around her pupil. Seth and I have joked that when she stares at you it feels like she’s staring into your soul. I’ve read that most babies’ eye color changes within the first year, but I would be so delighted if hers stayed the same.

Ever since I found out I was pregnant I started praying that Gracie would not get my eyes. When I was two years old I was diagnosed with congenital cataracts in both my eyes. That’s not something you want to pass down to your children. My mom was diagnosed with the exact same condition at the exact same age and I know it was always hard for her to know that my genes came from her. Cataracts are usually only found in elderly people and really old dogs so we have no idea why it decided to show up in our genes at such a young age. For those of you who aren’t familiar with cataracts, it means the lens in your eye is clouded over. It makes focusing and seeing almost impossible and if not treated correctly can even lead to blindness. I had surgery when I was diagnosed and now I no longer have lenses in my eyes. In order to see I have to wear really thick glasses that magnify my eyes. I was very grateful to be able to see but it did make childhood tough at times. I didn’t get contacts until I was in high school so as a kid I was always conscious of the stares I got from people. In elementary school I remember a boy said I looked like a toad with my glasses on.

For some reason people feel a need to make fun of others for being different than the “norm”. I’ll never understand that.  

A few years ago my mom was cleaning out boxes from my childhood. She came across a story I had written in first grade and showed it to me. It was about a little girl who wore glasses and got teased in school. The last page of the story said, “And then the girl didn’t need her glasses anymore and no one ever teased her again.” After I finished reading it I looked up at my mom and saw that she was holding back tears. Since she had to wear the same glasses as me, she knew exactly what it felt like to look different than everyone else and she could relate to the pain it caused when people felt the need to point it out. 

When we got pregnant I immediately started praying our child’s eyes would develop correctly and without cataracts. My mom told me it was a sincere prayer of hers as well.  I know cataracts are not a life-threatening condition and even felt a little guilty for being concerned that my children might get them. There are a lot worse things that could happen, but what mom wants their children to suffer at all?

This past week we took Gracie to her first eye appointment. I did some research and found out that in many cases congenital cataracts can be detected at birth, however, in some cases it doesn’t show up until months or years later. To do the exam the doctor had Seth hold Grace in the patient chair. They had to dilate her pupils and then shine an incredibly bright light in her eyes. Of course she screamed so loud during the exam it sounded like she was going to make herself pass out. I felt my throat start to tighten and my eyes started to water in response to hearing her be in pain. I remember being a child and having to go for my annual eye exams. My parents had to help the doctor restrain me so he could do the exam. As I was thrust back into all these scary memories I was slammed back into reality as I heard Gracie’s ear-shattering screams. In that moment I realized I had been focusing so much energy on her not having cataracts, that I hadn’t really allowed myself to think about what it would be like for her if she had them. The “worrier” in me had somehow been kept under control. As I waited for the doctor’s diagnosis I realized how badly I didn’t want her to be called a toad by bullies on the playground.

When the doctor told us his findings I realized I had been holding my breath. Please don’t tell me my baby is going to have to suffer any more pain because she got her mommy’s faulty eyes. I started clapping and almost jumped out of my seat when the doctor said her eyes looked normal and healthy.

He said there is still a chance that they could develop within the next couple months because he had seen that happen before. So I suppose I could worry and fret that she will still eventually have cataracts, or I can choose to rejoice in the fact that right now, today, she doesn’t.

Were you worried your children would inherit something “undesirable” from you?

Blessings,

Shantastic

4 Weeks with Grace: My Favorite Word of Webster’s

Did any of you parents out there obsess about baby names when you were pregnant? Or did you somehow already know what your child’s name would be? I was a little hypocritical during my pregnancy because I kept telling everyone that I wanted to meet our little one before deciding on a name, but somehow deep in my heart, I knew if we had a girl her name was already decided. I gravitated towards this name because of what it means. It’s a word that has literally transformed my life and if I ever got to have a daughter I wanted her to be named for it. I can’t even begin to express how relieved I was when I told Seth the name and he didn’t banish it to the land of no hope by giving it a veto. 

Even though I already had my favorite girl name picked out, I had a unique moment when I was about six months pregnant that helped solidify it as my number one choice. I was driving by myself and of course daydreaming about the moment when the doctor places your baby on your chest. I imagined the scenario with Seth shouting, “It’s a boy!” and then he would ask me what his name was and I would turn towards him and say, “This is ____” After a few rounds of this I realized I hadn’t played out the situation of the baby being a girl. I pictured a baby girl being placed on my chest and as the imaginary me in my mind said her name, I instantaneously burst into tears! There was no build up with my eyes starting to well and my throat getting tight. All of a sudden I was just completely sobbing. It was strange. After a few minutes I regained my composure and I think I even said out loud to myself, “That was weird.” I figured it was just my wacky pregnancy hormones up to their usual strangeness. I had no idea that my emotional freak-out was a weird way of my body responding to the little life that was growing inside of me.

Yesterday I had another emotional moment but this time I got to experience it with my little one. I picked up my daughter as she woke from her nap and as usual started talking to her. I usually tell her lovey dovey things that would be embarrassing for me if anyone ever overheard. On every other day this conversation has been one-sided for the most part. She might be looking at me but it’s not like she can answer back. Yesterday was the first time I got a response from her and it sent my heart soaring. I lifted her up so her eyes were level with mine. As soon as she was inches away, she gave me a smile that took up her whole face. I started laughing and swaying her back and forth and thought, “What did I do to deserve this?” There is an answer to that question, and the answer is..nothing.

What do you call it when you are given something you don’t deserve? The definition for that…is Grace.

"Grace: defined as the love and mercy given to us by God because God wants us to have it, not because of anything we have done to earn it" -Wikipedia 

How did you pick your child’s name?

P.S. I sincerely love hearing from you! I don’t have to be the only one who does all the talking every week. Let’s make this a two-way conversation :)

You can leave comments here on the blog or if you know me personally you can write to me on Facebook. 

Blessings,

Shantastic

3 Weeks with Grace: Never regret having a dirty sink

I no longer have a concept for the difference between day and night. I used to rarely take naps and if I did it had to be at a time that made sense for the rest of the day. Now I’m finding myself awake at 3:45a.m. and taking a nap at 6:00p.m. I think so far in this whole motherhood to a newborn thing the lack of sleep is the only part that is not very magical. Ok, getting puked on while nursing and literally feeling the warmth run down your back isn’t very magical either. However, I knew what I was signing up for. The only part I wish us moms could change about it though is how delirious you feel at times. I’ve had moments in the middle of the night when I’m changing Grace’s diaper and I feel like a sleepless zombie just going through the motions. I’ve caught myself having to stop for a second and just look at her. If I can get myself to stop and look at her big mesmerizing eyes, I snap out of my zombie-like state and remember why I’m doing all this. I’m her momma, and she needs me to take care of her. Would I trade my Gracie for eight consecutive hours of sleep? Never.

So, how do we solve our lack of sleep problems? Some of the best advice I have gotten is that familiar phrase that most first-time moms hear, “You sleep when the baby sleeps.” I went into my life with Grace with that mentality in mind but making that advice a reality is much more challenging than I realized. You have to time the feedings out perfectly in order to get even an hour of sleep. The second she is done nursing I have to lay down otherwise there simply won’t be enough time before her next feeding. It’s also challenging at times to give myself permission to lie down in the middle of the day and sleep. Since I’m staying home with Gracie all day I feel like it’s my responsibility to keep the house clean and organized. I’m slowly realizing that taking care of a three-week old is a full-time job by itself. However, even in the moments when I do convince myself to stop and nap while Gracie is snoozing, it still doesn’t guarantee that I will actually get to sleep. All you moms out there know exactly what it feels like to finally get the baby to sleep, let yourself sink down into your warm bed, and 10 seconds later hear your little one explode something awful in her diaper and know that your nap is now on hold indefinitely. Even though these moments can send my brain into a whole new level of delirium, thankfully my maternal instincts kick in when I think about how helpless this tiny little life is and how much she depends on me to give up my nap and change that stinky mess.

Another piece of advice I have received from many moms is to enjoy every moment because babies grow up fast. We all know Gracie isn’t going to stay 7lbs 10oz forever. For many moms it is hard to see their babies grow up and not be little anymore. Even though there is definitely a part of my heart that desperately wants her to stay this tiny adorable little bundle, I can also sincerely say I’m excited for her to grow up. I want to experience all the stages of life with her. I daydream about what it will feel like when she hugs me for the first time and what her voice will sound like when she laughs. In order to experience any of these things, she has to get bigger and I have to be ok with it.

The only way I will be able to silence the part of my heart that wants her to stay little forever is if I seriously just stop and live in each moment. It’s true. The dishes can wait. The dishes will be there tomorrow just as dirty as they are today. What won’t be the same tomorrow is my baby. She will be one day older.

My favorite times with Grace so far have been the moments when I have remembered to stop and be present with her. Yesterday I literally said out loud to Seth, “Ok, while you’re gone at the store I’m going to see if I can get the kitchen in order.” Then as I was walking by Gracie who was squirming around on one of her fuzzy blankets I abruptly did a one-eighty and plopped myself down on the floor next to her. While Sethwas gone I didn’t even step foot in the kitchen, instead I played with my little girl. I kissed her hands and snuggled her close to me. In this new journey of being a parent, I know in moments like these I will never regret letting the dishes sit in the sink.

Did you get any advice as a first-time parent?

Blessings,

Shantastic 

Can we keep her?

So many moms told me to look forward to the moment when the doctor places your baby on your chest for the first time. They said that nothing in the world compared to holding your long-awaited child in your arms. For me, I definitely felt love for Gracie when I first saw her, but it wasn’t exactly how I expected it to be. After getting to the hospital only an hour and half before I met my Gracie, I think I was still in so much shock that the labor was over. I had mentally set myself up to be in pain for at least another six or seven hours. And instead I was already looking into the eyes of my little one. I was too exhausted to produce any tears so instead I was doing this weird sort of heaving instead of crying. I eventually felt all those overwhelming ‘lovey” emotions towards her, I think it just took me a few hours before it all seemed real.

I’ve always been a realist. I look at a situation and I see the potentially good and bad outcomes, then I prepare myself for the bad and know then that I’ll be happily surprised if the good prevails. I really think there was a part of me that was waiting for this all to be a dream, for someone to come in and say, “I’m sorry, but you know you don’t get to keep her right?” Once it started to sink in that she was ours, forever, my heart started to overflow with more of the emotions I had originally expected.

About ten minutes after she arrived I realized I hadn’t kissed her yet. Feeling her ‘baby soft’ skin on my lips about stopped my heart. It was as if in that moment I started to realize she was real. She was mine. Then the first time I was alone with her in the hospital room was another moment full of emotion. I was talking to her and I said, ‘Hi Grace, I’m your momma.” At the word “momma” my voice broke and for the first time that day, tears ran down my cheeks in streams. Then when we brought her home I was nursing her in her room and as I looked around at all the work we put into her room I realized the owner of that room was finally here. My eye caught the photo of her 20-week ultrasound and I started sobbing as I cradled the little person from the picture in my arms. Seth walked in the room in the middle of my “mommy moment” and froze in the doorway for a second. In our birthing class I think the instructor scared all the dads when she talked about post-partum depression. I think they were all thinking, “Wait a second, we’ve had to figure out how to navigate living with someone who has been a pregnant ball of emotions for nine months and now you’re telling me there’s a chance she could get depressed?” In that moment I’m sure a tiny part of his brain was hoping my tears were happy and not sad. He tentatively asked, “You ok?” and between sobs I choked out the words, ‘Yes. I’m. just. so. haaappppyyyyy.”

It’s been amazing to watch Seth bond with her too. Moms get an unfair advantage of bonding with their baby for nine months, so it’s incredible to watch him get to experience her too. I think most women can agree that there is just something about seeing a grown man hold something so fragile with so much care. He’s also been really silly with her and it just cracks me up. He’ll hold her so it looks like she’s standing and then have her “walk” across the table or he’ll take her hands and make it look like she’s rapping to Notorious B.I.G. One day he was doing “skin-to-skin” with her on the couch and all of a sudden I heard him go, “oww...oww! OWW!” She had gotten a handful of his chest hair and started pulling it while at the same time she had somehow miraculously latched onto his nipple and was trying to get a little snack! On Tuesday while I was getting her bath all set up Seth got her stripped down. Since he was going to take a shower after he helped me with her bath he had his shirt off and thought he might as well hold her close to keep her warm while I finished getting the bath ready. I’m sure all you parents out there know how dangerous it is to hold a baby who is not wearing a diaper. 30 seconds later Seth screamed, ‘Ahh!! She just peed on me!” He had felt something warm run down his stomach and immediately assumed it was pee. I burst out laughing and said between fits of giggles, “No honey… that’s poop!!” Grace truly does have impeccable timing!

Two weeks after bringing Grace home, I’m still having my “overwhelming turn into a mushy puddle of tears because I’m so happy” moments with her. In one of my previous blog posts I said something about how I couldn’t believe that I could love someone so much who I had never met. Now I think it’s pretty amazing that I love this little person to this capacity, and all she does is eat, sleep, fart, and poop on my husband.

What were your “overwhelming turn into a mushy puddle of tears because I’m so happy” moments with your newborn?

Blessings,

Shantastic 

"How far do you wanna be?"

To the wonderful readers out there who give my inner monologue an audience each week and to those who are joining us for the first time, I have one disclaimer before I can begin the story of Grace’s birthday.

Disclaimer: Because her birthday was such an eventful day, my post this week is a little on the lengthy side…ok, a lot on the lengthy side. I promise next week I’ll reign in my inner voice. But for this week, I let it run wild.

“How far do you wanna be?”

Our lives are the composite of our daily decisions. Who did you decide to marry, what did you decide to do for a living, did you decide to become a parent? When you decide you want to have a baby, all you can think about is getting to that final moment when the doctor places him/her in your arms. Even though nine months is really only a blink compared to a full life, it felt like it dragged on and on for Seth and me. My due date was August 24^th and once I hit 37 weeks we were constantly on full alert. Braxton Hicks teased me endlessly and I grew more uncomfortable everyday. Finally, at 3:45a.m. on August 27^th Braxton Hicks decided to take a leave of absence and sent the real thing. Our decision to have a baby was finally coming true.

The contractions were very mild at this point but I knew they were the real thing. I prayed over our baby and prayed for Seth, then I woke him up. He was groggy at first and then when he realized why I was waking him, he sprang to attention. The entire pregnancy he was always saying he wished there was more he could do. He felt burdened that I was the one doing all the physical work. His job of being my “labor coach” was finally beginning! His job description: be whatever I needed him to be.  And he was.

My contractions were less than five minutes apart at this point but they were only lasting about 30 seconds. I was able to still move around the house and pack some last minute things. We called the hospital and were told to wait and call back when my contractions were less than five minutes apart and lasting 60-90 seconds each for two hours. It was as if my body heard the nurse say this and immediately started stepping up the pain. Each contraction got longer and slightly more painful. The most comfortable place for me ended up being the fetal position at the head of the bed. I kept taking ‘cleansing breaths” through each contraction which is breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth, and Seth kept recording everything. Two hours finally passed so Seth called the hospital to tell one of the nurses. I could hear the nurse on the other end tell Seth that we could come in if we wanted but there was no rush. She said most women like to labor at home as long as possible. Seth and I looked at each other with puzzled expressions. Now we had a decision to make. Stay at home longer or get to the hospital. The last thing I wanted to deal with was being sent back home because I wasn’t far enough dilated. So, we decided to stay at home a little while longer.

The next stage in my labor story is what I refer to as the “dark place”. I went from being able to have an intelligent conversation between contractions to almost completely unable to communicate at all. I was starting to have to grab onto the headboard and squeeze during each contraction. They were getting so strong and I kept thinking, “How much worse does it get from here?” After about an hour of being in the “dark place” I heard Seth talking to his best friend on the phone asking for prayer because we were in labor. Seth hung up and came to get an update on how I was feeling. He said that his friend gave us some advice since his middle child was almost born on the freeway because they labored at home too long. First he had asked Seth a series of questions, “Can Shan talk through her contractions?” Seth said, “No.” “Is she reaching out and clenching onto things?’ Seth's response, “Yes.” Then his friend said the advice that without receiving, we may have let ourselves get in an extremely dangerous situation. He said, “Buddy, I think you should go to the hospital now.” It was 8:20.

When Seth relayed the conversation to me I felt my heart latch onto the words, “you should go”. Seth had made sure the car was packed up so after a contraction finished I walked as fast as I could to the car. I had a mission and that was to get to the hospital bed. We made it to the labor and delivery check in desk after a series of contractions that had once again intensified. While I was signing the paperwork I had a contraction that was so bad I started spinning in a circle desperately looking for a chair to sit in. I came really close to just collapsing on the floor and falling into my favored fetal position!

Finally, we walked into our room and I saw the bed that I had been dreaming about. I got all set up with the monitors and then asked the nurse if it was normal to be feeling an involuntary pressing down sensation during the most recent contractions. It felt like my body was starting to push baby downwards on its own in big thumps. She said yes, it was normal. I was now at the point where I was savoring the few seconds between each contraction and dreading the next one. Then, the head nurse who I accurately will refer to as Nurse Nice Lady came in. As she was checking my cervix to see how far dilated I was, she paused and said with a smirk on her face, “How far do you wanna be?” I was so disoriented that I didn’t know what she was talking about. I think I might have said, “Huh??” She replied with, “You’re at 9cm my dear.” It was 9:20.

If we would have waited at home another hour, I would have been dilated to 9cm and Seth and I would have been clueless about it.  My body would have been experiencing the involuntary push and we would have had no idea what to do.

The next series of contractions made the “dark place” I had experienced earlier feel like Disneyland. These new contractions felt like Bellatrix Lestrange from Harry Potter was practicing the Cruciatus Curse on me. For those of you who are not HP fans, the Cruciatus Curse is also known as the torture curse. My stomach went rock hard all the way around and my back felt like someone had it in a vice and kept tightening it as far as it would go. The pressure to push was almost unbearable. For the first time since I started laboring, I could no longer take cleansing breaths. I was still in too much shock to be weeping so instead my voice came out with an involuntary, “ahhh ahhhh ahhhhhh” that was between talking and shouting.  After four or five rounds of pure torture, Nurse Nice Lady checked me again. To my relief she said, ‘I don’t feel anymore cervix. You’re ready to push!” It was 9:45.

Sometimes the decisions we make are so important that they mark the distinction between life and death, between safe and unsafe. Our decision to leave for the hospital was and will forever be one of the best decisions we ever made. I truly believe God used Seth’s friend to tell us exactly when we needed to leave for the hospital. Without his advice we may have stayed at home too long and put our baby’s safety (and mine) at risk.

The pushing part was actually one of the best parts of the whole labor experience. I’m not sure if that’s the same for every woman. The contractions still hurt but being able to push with it made it much more bearable. As soon as I started pushing Nurse Nice Lady turned to the other nurses and said, “Umm when did you say Dr. Calming Voice will be getting to the hospital? …And how far away is that hospital? …How long ago did she leave for here?” It seemed to me like what she really wanted to be saying was, “We’re going to need Dr. Calming Voice in here much sooner than we thought and it looks like she might not make it in time.” Even though I may have been reading the situation totally wrong, I turned it into motivation. If they thought I might need the doctor soon, I wanted that to be true. I wanted that doctor to come, catch my baby, end this pain, and introduce me to my little one.

After about 15 minutes of pushing Nurse Nice Lady asked Seth if he wanted to see his baby’s head. She said you could see about the size of a quarter. I asked her how much needed to be showing before the doctor would come in. She held up a circle with her hands about the size of a large sand dollar. I guess I really must be driven by concrete goals because I’ve never pushed so stinking hard in my life. Not to “toot my own horn” but I even kept pushing after they told me to take a break. Nurse Nice lady was saying, “Push push push push and breathe… oh, you’re still going? Ok! Push push push!” Then she said something to the other nurses that I had been hoping for, “Please call Dr. Calm Voice.”

The doctor came in and for the next 30 minutes I pushed and pushed. It was a little weird to actually be able to feel baby move a tiny bit at a time. It was getting close to 10:30 and the doctor said, “I’m noticing baby’s heart rate is starting to drop and it looks like baby is getting stuck. I’m going to give you some Novocain in case I need to make a little cut, is that ok?” The way I interpreted that statement was, “If we don’t get baby out soon and the heart rate keeps dropping then we will start talking about a c-section.” So, I told her to go for it.

Seth said it was kind of funny because as soon as the doctor made the cut, baby just shot out like a cannon. The doctor even fumbled just a little trying to catch her! At 10:36a.m. Grace joined our lives! If you read my post from last week then you know how surprised we were to have a little girl instead of the boy we were expecting. We both, however, couldn’t be happier.

Those of you who have been reading my posts from the beginning know that I had been hoping to have a drug-free labor. I was prepared to do what was necessary, but I wanted it to be natural if at all possible. In the hospital one of my friends from elementary school came to visit us. She is a nurse and she used to work in the post partum wing that I was staying in. She asked me about getting any drugs and this is how our conversation went.

Friend: You did it without getting an epidural!?

Me: Yeah!

Friend: So did you just get <insert fancy drug name here> ?

Me: No

Friend: Oh…so you just had the patch <insert another fancy name here> on your thigh?

Me: No

Friend: ..seriously? Just an IV then?

Me: Nope

Friend: What?? Are you for real?? Shan, that’s crazy!

It is a little crazy! Grace decided she wanted to come and I guess she is one determined little girl. There wasn’t time to hook me up to anything! Compared to most women’s labor experiences, I know I am extremely blessed that mine only took seven hours. However, there is that pesky little part of me that still wants to say, “That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt!!!” It’s true though what every woman says after they give birth. You take one look at your baby and know wholeheartedly that you would do it all over again in a second.

I’m looking forward to sharing my first-time mom adventures with you in the upcoming weeks. One of the highlights of my new life was when I watched (and attempted to help) Seth during Gracie’s “exploding from both ends” fiasco. I’m not sure how much Seth would agree with me, but I thought it was pretty hilarious.  He got poop on his arm and spit up on his shoulder. There was probably some pee on him somewhere too. Classic!

Moms: How long were you in labor? Did you have a "dark place" like me? Or worse, were you also a victim to the Cruciatus Curse? 

Blessings,

Shantastic