Crystal's Birth Story

Before I was pregnant, before I even thought about trying to get pregnant.  Labor terrified me.  I tolds o many people, “when I go into labor, just crack me over the head with something and hopefully when I wake up it will all be over with and you can just hand me my baby.  I’ll trust you that it’s the right baby.”  I was joking of course, but the joke came out of fear.  The image of a screaming woman, full of anger and pain that’s portrayed in the movies petrified me.  I wanted a baby – but not like that.  Until I started doing research, I thought that was the only way.  My husband is a biologist and I have a background in biology and neuroscience, so we are a research-focused household in nearly every aspect.  So when we decided to have a baby, I went to work doing what I do best.  And I was relieved by what I found and determined to have a wonderful birth.  I visualized giving birth while remaining relaxed.  I watched literally hundreds of videos of births, all while keeping calm and practicing breathing nice and slow.  I wanted a natural birth, in the water bath.  I wanted to breath my baby out (what a misnomer by the way!).  And I went for it.  

I prepared every way I knew how; repeating my mantra over and over while drinking red raspberry leaf tea and doing kegals and squats.  When the time came my birth plan came to life in every way that I’d hoped.  Little did I know that once the baby is born you still have to birth the placenta.  That’s where life through me a curve ball.  But the basic summary of my birth is that 29 hours after my water broke, I delivered my perfect baby boy in a water bath at a birth center.  No rips or tears and active labor only lasted about 5 hours with 1.5 hours of pushing.  I had a retained placenta and had to be rushed to a hospital because of massive blood loss. After 3 days and a blood transfusion we came home. Even given the medical circumstances, I love how my son came into this world.

It all started at 38 weeks, I was having some excruciating lower back pains that wouldn't go away.  After two days I scheduled a massage but it only helped for an hour and then the pain came back.  I called the midwives and they were thinking that little one might be in a not-so-great position down there and that could be not-so-good for labor so they suggested yoga moves to adjust him as well as getting a spinal adjustment.  After three days of back labor pain (Friday 4/4/14) I scheduled a chiropractor for an adjustment. It felt pretty good, but again, after just an hour, the pain was back and constant.  I kind of felt like I was having contractions when I got home but I wasn't sure - I thought maybe I just wanted him to be here so bad that I was making up the small pains in my lower tummy.  Like all of the Braxton hicks I’d had through out labor, I made a nice low hum, my birthing call, and tried to breathe through the contractions and stay calm and at peace.  I figured if I’m going to feel them, I might as well practice for the main event.  All day Friday, I sat against a heating pad and did the yoga moves, cat and cow pose mostly, trying to ease the discomfort. The pains felt like a building from my lower back and then they would travel around to the front, and as labor progressed (I had no idea I was actually in labor at this point!) they eventually stung in my upper thighs too.

Hubby came home and we ordered Chinese food for dinner because I wanted something spicy - I was ready to get this baby out! Well it turned out that we didn't need the Chinese food to get it going. While I was lying on the sofa, joking around with hubby that he was going to have to have sex with me if the Chinese food didn't do the trick - my water broke.  Yay!  I was so freaking excited.  We called the birth center and headed in after dinner to get a cervical check, measure my contractions, and measure little one's heartbeat.  At that very moment, I didn’t have an ounce of negativity in me.  I was looking forward to labor, because it meant my baby was that much closer to being in my arms.  That’s all I could focus on.

It was around 9 at night when we finally got to the center. I was dilated to 1 cm and baby was doing fine.  I was still having some light contractions but nothing too intense.  We were told to head on home and try our best to get some rest so we'd have energy for the grand finale.  Well ... I only slept for about 5 hours and woke up to stronger contractions but still nothing uncontrollable, just a bit more intense.  But I was far too excited to sleep!  Hubby put a bit of counter pressure on my hips and I moaned out slow and low grunts (I tried to match the low pitch to the song from the Hobbit when they are in Bilbo's house after they ate all his food - that's how low I needed to hum/grunt in order to ease the pain) with my head straight up so I could feel the vibrations down my spine. It really freaking helped with the pain throughout all of labor.  SERIOUSLY!  If I can give any advice it would be to get that low grunting hum down pat and point your nose to the ceiling to get those vibrations down your spine.

We were worried about the water being broken and how many hours had passed, so I went ahead and took the castor oil the midwife had given us to take (she said if labor wasn't progressing by 5-8 in the morning that I should take it).  Within twenty minutes I was shitting all of the shit I could possibly shit out of me and threw up the hard-to-take-down banana "shake" that my hubby had mixed the castor oil into.  It was seriously disgusting - "no taste or odor" my ass. Things got a little more intense after the castor oil crapping had finished up. For an hour the contractions were less than a minute long and not very regular, within 5 minutes apart.  The birth center told us to wait until things were more consistent.  Damn it!  I wanted to get things going!  I wanted to see my baby!!!

To get things progressing, hubby rubbed my back with the Love Your Labor Oil. I never sat down and stood through everything and did my best to just remain calm and relaxed.   I distracted myself in between contractions by doing my makeup (spent nearly 3 hours doing it, just cause I wanted to feel pretty and doing my makeup makes me happy). I even bought a comfy maxi dress to labor in and I put on a pair of studs too. No pictures were taken during early labor but at least I felt pretty.  I can’t believe I didn’t even get a picture!  Next time I’m making sure there is a bit of video…

Around 1PM we went into the birth center and I hadn't really progressed at all (1.5 cm dilated).  Cue sad face but not shocked.  So home we went and we were told to come back at 4PM because at that point it would have been 18 hours since my water had broken and then we would have to discuss whether birthing at the birth center was even an option any more. I didn't want a hospital birth because I wanted to labor in whatever position I desired without IVs. I also didn't want easy access to an epidural because I didn't want to risk the cascade effect that could lead to a c-section.  However, I knew that there was a chance I might end up at a hospital and I had come to terms with that. Regardless of how my son was born I was determined to stay relax and calm and do my best to bring him into this world with love and peace in my heart. That was the most important thing to me.

Our midwife, Katie, was absolutely wonderful. She showed us a side-laying position to move LO around so that the back labor would lessen, it didn't really work though; I could feel him holding himself in place by pushing his feet against the uterus ... little bugger.  She also told us to take blue cohosh and pulsitilla to get things to progress and gave the go ahead to labor in the tub with the birthing oil (it has clary sage, lavender, and other essential oils in it and smells divine). So we went home and did just that. Fast forward a bit and we are back at the birth center and contractions have pretty much remained the same. Katie did a cervical check and I didn't really progress again (zero change to my cervix) so she stretched me to 3 cm (Yup she pulled at my cervix to manually dilate it) and we took a walk around the block to get things going. AND THAT WORKED! Apparently that's when active labor kicked in. These contractions were far stronger than the ones I had been experiencing. I was able to hum/grunt the way I had been to deal with the pain but I no longer wanted to be standing or walking. Instead I labored mostly in the side laying position with hubby putting counter pressure on my hips (he told me later that he thought he was going to break my hips because I kept yelling harder to him even though he had all of his weight on me).

I desperately wanted to labor in the tub because it was night and day with the early labor contractions. I could barely feel the contractions in the tub with the humming.  Literally I would have to stop humming to see if the contraction had stopped because the warm water and vibrations were enough to effectively eliminate the pain during early labor.  But laboring in the tub could stall progression, just like the epidural that I desperately wanted to avoid, and my midwife didn't want that so she said I had to wait.  I started staring down the clock during the contractions and had to count the long, hard, low hums to distract myself during the contractions. I remember looking up at the clock and noting that I was having at least two contractions each 5 minute period. They were coming at me pretty hard. Katie did a cervical check around this point and I was only at 4 cm. I changed up positions for a little while and then got in the shower. The water and hubby's counter pressure didn't feel like it was helping at all.  My hums helped a bit but I just couldn't take standing up - I just wanted to collapse on the floor.  The back pain was more excruciating than anything else.

In my head I knew that I was half way there since dilation is exponential. But I also knew that by the time I could get to a hospital I could possibly be at 6 cm and then I could get an epidural without the higher risk of getting a c-section. This is when I started to waiver. And I told hubby and the midwife just that. I told them I think I want to go to a hospital and get the epidural.  Hubby just stared at me and rubbed my back.  I don't think he knew what to say really except "Are you sure?" At that response, Katie jumped in and said, "you worked too hard to go now.  Let's try the side laying position for a little longer and then you can get in the tub."  I'm not sure why that calmed me so much but it really did help.  Just the thought that the tub was close and I was getting closer to meeting my little man kept me going.  Katie reminded me to just take each contraction as it came and not to worry about anything else.  A little over an hour later I was at 6 cm and nearly in tears when she said she was going to get the tub ready. Of course the damn thing took over a half an hour to fill - I was freaking pissed at each contraction that came while I was waiting for it to fill.  But I still just counted my grunts (15 for each contraction) and labored each one on it's own.

I'm not sure if it's because I was in my own head since I wasn't leaning on hubby or having him counter pressure my hips, but I felt more in control in the tub.  I remember thinking, "you can do this NO, you ARE doing this!"  I was on my knees leaning back putting pressure on my hips myself and bouncing through the contractions.  It felt so manageable in the tub.  Katie would give me water when I needed it and hubby fed me frozen fruit and sprayed water on my back and on my shoulders when I got hot for the two hours while I labored. Between contractions I would focus on stretching and relaxing and trying to keep calm.  I was so exhausted.  At this point it was nearly 28 hours since my water had broken.

I didn't know what it would feel like when I got the urge to push, but let me tell you guys, it feels like your body is being possessed.  I was so stunned.  I felt it and the shock alone distracted me from the pain.  I remember thinking that it can't be time because I hadn't said or thought, "I can't do this" yet, which is common during transition.  I told Katie I felt the urge to push and asked if I had skipped transition. All she said is, "it depends on your cervix just keep doing what you are doing and Jax will be here soon."  I was stunned and so freaking happy at the thought of pushing.  That's right, I was happy.  I was exhausted and in pain, everything hurt and was sore from dealing with the contractions but I was so happy that he was almost here.  

I pushed in various positions and eventually began to feel in control of the urge to push. This stage of labor was a relief.  There was a bit of pain with the contractions but nothing like what the last 6 hours had been like.  I didn't feel like I was splitting into two or that he was coming out of my butt like I had read.  It just felt like my vagina was stretching, plain and simple.  Through some of the contractions I even brought my hands down to my upper thighs and pulled to help the stretching.  I didn't poop and I didn't feel the ring of fire, both of which I wasn’t looking forward to.  I pushed with everything that I had each contraction; in my head I kept saying, "Get out!! I need to hold you. I can't wait to hold you."  It was my motivation and it worked. A half an hour into pushing Katie called the nurse, Jaime, and started getting things ready for his arrival, that gave me even more motivation and determination to get him out.

Towards the end of pushing, it was roughly 1.5 hours long, I held on to the bars of the tub and put my feet against the front part, Hubby could see everything and he kept watching.  I was a bit taken aback because neither of us wanted to see my vagina in that condition but in that moment he just couldn't help it.  Jax was crowning.  I felt his head but Hubby didn't.  Katie told me he had dark hair and I nearly cried with joy.  I was so close to holding him.  When he finally came out I reached down to pull him on to my chest but his umbilical cord was so short he could only go up 3/4 of my chest.  It was comical. I even laughed.  I can't tell you ladies how amazing it is when you finally hold your little ones, but I can tell you it is worth everything you go through.  With help, I got out of the birthing tub, holding onto Jax with the cord still attached.  I laid back in the bed and cuddled with my little man.  He only cried a little and then started searching for food.  Apparently we were both hungry!  All I can remember is the feeling of complete happiness.  I remember my husband smiling over my shoulder and kissing me.  It was so wonderful holding my little man.  My baby came into this world nearly to a T to my birth plan.  But then I had to push out the placenta...

Part of my placenta was stuck to the wall of my uterus and wouldn’t budge.  Katie “massaged” my uterus (OUCH!) and the only thing that would come out were gushes of blood.  She would tug at the cord and pieces would break off.  So I was given a shot of pitocin to help the contractions get moving to push it out, that didn't work either.  So I was given a catheter because I couldn't pee myself to empty my bladder, which is also suppose to help the placenta detach - that didn't work either.  All the while, for the hour that Katie and Jaime tried to get my placenta to come out I was pushing to try to get it out while doing skin to skin with my baby.  Even though it hurt like a bitch to try to push my placenta out I kept focused on Jax, he was rummaging around for the milk factory and I was soaking it all in. Hubby seemed a bit worried and was asking questions about the placenta and I just smiled at him and told him to stop worrying...  I had no idea what was in store for us.  While Katie was down there, I asked her if I had and tears.  None, not a single tear, rip, or hemorrhoid.  Whooo!  I could care less about my placenta at that point.  I just kept pushed each contraction and figured it would come out eventually.  It had to come out – right?

WARNING - This next section is very scary and it is not a common situation.  After 1 hour of trying, Katie told me I would have to be transported by ambulance to the hospital 30 minutes away. The back up OB would be there to manually remove my placenta.  If that worked than I would be released and either meet hubby and Jax back at the birth center or at our house (it's only 5 minutes away from the big hospital).  She said it would be a max of 4 hours and then I could be with Jax again but that he needed to stay at the birth center until they could discharge him.  Then she said, if he couldn't remove it manually, then I would have to have it surgically removed, in which case I would stay over night to recover and Jax and hubby would meet me there and they would be allowed to stay with me.  So in my head I'm thinking, "damn placenta - at least it'll only be 4 hours and I'm going to the big hospital so it's not that big of a deal."

When the EMTs got there Katie took my blood pressure - it was good. And hubby took Jax. They told me to go ahead and swing my legs around to stand up so I could get in the wheel chair. I remember joking with the guy telling him to watch his shoes because I had been gushing blood.  Little did I know how right I was to say that.  I stood up and Katie asked me if I felt alright to sit. And all of a sudden I felt really numb and light headed.  I shook my head and then I blacked out.  I woke up on the floor to Katie telling me not to worry that she was with me and I was safe.  I remember thinking, "where are we?" We were still in the birthing room.  Shawn said I went very pail and blood started gushing out of me.  My friend who came to help hubby with Jax while I was away said it looked like a murder scene.  Katie told me we were going to the small hospital down the road and not to worry that she would be driving behind me.  I started going in and out of it and don't remember much except for shaking - I was completely naked, covered up with only a blanket being wisked off.

I still get emotional thinking about it - in reality if there hadn't been a hospital one block down, I could’ve died.  When we looked into the birth center our other option was a hospital by our home, 30 minutes from the center.  That's the back up hospital to the birth center. Luckily, there is also a small hospital only a block away from the birth center.  If something goes wrong at the birth center mothers are transferred to the hospital 30 minutes away because that's where the back up OB is and it's also where the majority of Delaware births occur.  While we were considering the birth center, it was very difficult to convince hubby and my family was not convinced at all. I told the, if anything horrible happens there is a hospital one block away and everything will be fine.  I thank God that there was that hospital because if I had to wait 30 minutes to get to the other one, I don’t know what would have happened.

I went in and out of it for a little while.  I remember the doctor asking me if I wanted pain meds and I said yes.  She was able to manually remove it.  I woke up about 6 hours after leaving and my mom was there.  She thought I was dead when she first saw me in the bed, my body was beyond pail, it was grey.  I'm crying now writing this because I can't even imagine how that must've felt, to see your child like that.  A few hours later I was finally conscious enough to hold Jax.  Hubby my MIL and mom were all with me.  The blood loss really weighed on my body.  I was in pain everywhere and had absolutely no energy.  I was hungry but I couldn’t eat.  It was a feeling of helplessness and exhaustion.  I was happy to see my baby though.  And all way right because he was safe and healthy and being held by people who loved him – even if it wasn’t me.  It makes me sad to think that the first hours of his life, I wasn’t there for him.  But there’s nothing that I could’ve done.  As soon as I was able to hold him I did, and holding him made everything right.   

To make a long story short (and to keep me from digging up all those emotions that I have come to terms with), my hemoglobin levels continued to drop for two days. The first morning I almost fainted when I stood up to go to the bathroom so they took my blood count and then told us it was too low to leave. The second morning they told me I would need a blood transfusion because they dropped below 6. That was my first break down. All the while I had been positive and just concentrated on being with my little boy.  I am so in love with him and that helped me get through so much.  But that second morning when they told me I would need a transfusion and would have to stay another night, I broke down.  I was trying to sit up to eat and it was so difficult I just burst into tears.  I told hubby that I couldn't even feed myself how can I be a good mom to Jax while I was in this condition.  I remember thinking, I can’t feed him, I can’t feed myself.  I’m failing at being a mom.  I felt so guilty that I wasn't there for him like I wanted to be and that my body wasn't recovering and that I was having a hard time feeding him.  Luckily I have the most amazing husband in the world.  I couldn't have made it through everything without Jax in my arms and hubby by my side.

On a positive note, blood transfusions do wonders. I thought the exhaustion was from delivering Jax but it was from the loss of blood. The next morning all was right and I was released.  I even finally took a shower.  Life resumed as I had pictured it after we got home.  I spent hours just cuddling my son.  Breastfeeding was hard.  Everyone tells you there might be issues with tongue-tie, cracked nipples, latch or something physical like that, but you don’t hear how emotional it is.  It’s a roller coaster of highs and lows.   The first month was rough emotionally because of slow weight gain, but after seeing a lactation consultant, everything worked out wonderfully.  There is a silver lining in going to that hospital.  I really did receive excellent care and so did my son. As much as I wanted to take care of my little man, my hubby, mother in law, best friend, and mom all stepped in for me when I couldn't and I am so aware and grateful for how much they've done for me and Jax. My son did enter this world full of love - from me and from those close to me.  And that’s all that matters.

Crystal S.

Baby Sign Language

My Experience Using Sign Language with My Baby 

I was excited when Brooke asked me to write a post on her blog about the use of American Sign Language (ASL) with babies. I have been an ASL Interpreter now for about 15 years. I always knew that when I had children of my own I was going to teach them ASL.  

When my niece was about a year old she was throwing tantrums and screaming to get what she wanted. My sister was so frustrated she asked me to teach her how to sign with her daughter. She was willing to try anything to eliminate the tantrums she was having on a daily basis. It took my niece a few weeks to catch on but once she realized she could ask for what she wanted it made a huge difference. 

In April of 2013 I had a son of my own. I was excited to begin signing with him. I started by signing milk when he nursed. Obviously at this time he was too young to grasp it but that didn’t discourage me. The real signing began at about 6 months old. I was signing to him all the time hoping that one day he would catch on and begin to sign back to me. I used the basics like more, eat, milk, mom, dad, bath. After 3 months he had only produced the sign “more” a handful of times. It was frustrating. I was a sign language interpreter, how would it look if I could not get my own child to sign. 

I didn’t give up though, I continued signing with him. Finally at about 10 months old he grasped the concept of communication. Now he is 18 months old and has a vocabulary of about 35 or more signs. It got to a point where I only had to show him the sign once and he would remember it and add it to his vocabulary and use it on a daily basis. I was so thrilled with how well he was doing. The greatest part is I rarely have a tantrum from him. He was has always been able to tell me what he wants so he never needs to resort to screaming and pointing. 

One of the concerns that I have heard from parents about signing with their baby is will it delay their child’s ability to speak. This is not the case with my son. He has a large speaking vocabulary and repeats everything we say even if it isn’t exactly clear. We call him our little parrot. Needless to say, He uses a combination of sign and speech now. He has 4 cousins within his age range and he speaks better then all of them. He is such a bright child. 

Here are some example video's of good signs to introduce to your infant:

"Eat"

"More"

"Please"

"Thank you"

"Utensil" (pen/pencil/crayon)

"Candy"

"Cat"

If you are considering signing with your baby, I would highly recommend it. It will impact your childs Language development, cognitive development, social development, not to mention the extra bonding between you and your child.  As a professional in the field and a mother, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I have seen the benefits in my child’s life. The key is persistence and repetition. It is well worth it in the end. 

Here are a few websites with further information on signing with your baby. Feel free to contact me if you have any questions.  

http://www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-living/infant-and-toddler-health/expert-answers/baby-sign-language/faq-20057980 

http://sign2me.com/index.php 

http://www.parentingscience.com/baby-sign-language.html 

http://www.mhit.org/images/Signing_with_Babies_and_Children.pdf 

Melissa East 

itsmeburbs@gmail.com

How We deal with Food Allergies Part 1

   My pregnancy with C was pretty normal. We had a scare after my 20 week ultrasound that some of her measurements were off and the doctors thought there was a possibility of Down's syndrome. After several more tests and another ultrasound, we were told everything looked great and we had nothing to worry about. She was born in July with her eyes wide open and made hardly a peep for the next two days. She was a pretty easy baby and did really well while I was breastfeeding her. Unfortunately, I have never been able to breastfeed for more then 5 months and had to switch her to formula. Over the next few months she continued to get up several times a night screaming but would calm down after we fed her a bottle but we went through a ton of formula. We were so happy the day she turned 1 and we could switch to milk instead.
    Shortly after her first birthday, my mom and I decided to take a road trip with all four kids, up to my parents cabin which was a 6 hour drive. I packed the usual snacks: cheerios, bananas, cheeze-its, and a whole gallon of milk to survive the ride. C, like most one year olds was not a fan of being trapped in her car-seat, so we kept refilling her sippy cup with milk and passing out the cheerios. The second day at the cabin C started having diarrhea. It was constant. We were going through 10 or more diapers a day and she was up several times a night crying. She got horrible diaper rash that was so bad her skin was peeling off her. We stayed at the cabin for two weeks and the poor thing had diarrhea the whole time and not normal diarrhea, it was pale and fatty looking and smelled worse then anything I had ever smelled. I called our family doctor on the way home and set an appointment for the next day.
   

Fast forward four months and C still has diarrhea. My doctor had run out of tests to run on our daughter and so we were sent to GI specialists at one of the best children's hospitals who told me that since C was still growing it must be Toddlers diarrhea, which basically meant I was giving her too much juice. I tried to explain that she had one glass of juice a day and it was watered down. The doctor reexplained that she was still gaining weight so she was fine and that she would see us in three months. It didn't seem to matter to the doctor that my daughter's backside was missing several layers of skin.
      I also need to add in here because of my personal feeling on the matter, my kids are on a delayed vaccination schedule and since C had been sick her vaccinations were very behind.
     We returned to our family doctor for a check up and C was given two vaccinations to try and get her caught up with the regular vaccination schedule. 24 hours later we were in the ER and C was diagnosed with pneumonia. We never made it back to the GI doctor for our 3 month check-up because C developed breathing problems. Since she was under the age of 3 she was never given the diagnosis of asthma but we spent at least 6 days of every month over the next year in the hospital with severe asthma attacks. C was put on 3 different medications including 2 steroids to try and keeps her attacks under control. Her diarrhea did eventually stop, but now we had a new problem. Every time C received a vaccination, we were in the hospital 24 hours later with pneumonia. Luckily our family doctor saw the pattern and has put all vaccinations on hold. Even without the vaccinations though, every time C got a runny nose we knew an attack was going to be happening soon.
   We were eventually sent to an allergist and had a whole battery of tests run on C to try and figure out what was causing her attacks. Everything came back negative.
   C last major attack was June of 2012. We celebrated my dad's birthday one night with cake and ice cream. By 11 p.m. we had given her every medication we had at home, her inhalers and nebulizer treatments, and C could still barely breath. My husband took her to the E.R. and I sat at home with our other children. An hour later he called me asking about what a tracheotomy was and how bad was it that her O2 level was in the 70's. In the background I heard two people arguing about who had to be the one to give her the tracheotomy when the child couldn't handle anesthesia and who would hold her down while they were cutting.  I wanted to run to the hospital right then but I had 3 other sleeping children at my house. While I was still on the phone I heard what I assume to be a nurse yell that C's O2 stats jumped to 83% and the doctors got quiet. I asked my husband what was happening and he said all the doctors went just outside the room and were talking and he would call me back.
    C was in the hospital for 3 more days and was eventually released with 2 more medications to take every day. When we finally returned the following week to the doctor for our check-up, we were given horrible news. We were told that no one had any idea what was causing her attacks and that if C stayed on these medications she would have kidney failure, but if she continued to have her attacks, she would need that tracheotomy. The doctor mentioned the possibility of celiac's disease but said that she could not be tested because the test would require someone so young to need anesthesia and C would most likely not survive anesthesia.
  We were so lost. The following week our 8 month old baby started with the same smelly strange diarrhea as C. I knew I couldn't watch another child go through the same health challenges, so we made another appointment with our family doctor to see if there was anything else we could do. After reviewing all of Cs tests and lab work from the last year and a half, she suggested we just assume it was a food allergy. She said we had to eliminate everything from her diet. Everything. Just feed her vegetables and lean meats, and see what happened. The only problem was that C was a very sneaky little girl. She would go in the pantry and find food or grab food off her siblings plates when we were doing dishes, so the only way to make sure she did not get any food that would hurt her, the whole family had to eat the same way. We had also decided that because the diet was so strict it would be cruel if C had to watch the rest of us eat food she liked so we were going to do this as a team!
    After our doctor had suggested that we treat her attacks as food allergy reactions, I started researching everything I could about food allergies. Her symptoms eliminated most food allergies except dairy and gluten allergies and because C's lab work had shown that she had a very high level of inflammation, her symptoms matched Celiac's disease. http://www.celiaccenter.org/symptoms.asp  I also noticed that several of my other children had symptoms on the list of gluten sensitivity. http://www.celiaccenter.org/gluten_faq.asp#symptoms
I realized that maybe this team work approach would probably really benefit all of my children and not just C. The other thing I realized was that many of the symptoms of a dairy allergy and a gluten allergy were very similar so we needed to avoid both. I had noticed very early on when C's attacks first started that every time she had milk, she would get a runny nose and she would get discharge coming out of her ears. GROSS.
   Here is a list of some of the other site that I found really helpful:
Dairy Allergy-
http://voices.yahoo.com/dairy-allergy-children-its-not-lactose-intolerance-338392.html
http://www.foodallergy.org/allergens/milk-allergy
http://kidshealth.org/parent/medical/allergies/milk_allergy.html

Gluten Intolerance/Celiac Disease-
http://www.foodallergy.org/allergens/wheat-allergy
http://www.celiaccentral.org/Celiac-Disease/Celiac-Symptoms/32/
http://voices.yahoo.com/8-common-gluten-sensitivity-symptoms-children-3945024.html?cat=25

       I also began watching several documentaries, trying to find out as much information as possible about how food affects our bodies and to see if there was anything else we should be doing to get our daughter healthy and basically save her life. One of the first documentaries we watched was "Forks over Knives". There was so much great information in the documentary but one of the most important piece of information that we needed right then was that the animal protein Casein, was found in anything that came an animals, including meat and dairy products, causes inflammation in our bodies when we consume it. Since inflammation was C's biggest problem we decided to eliminate meat from our diet too. I spent the next week getting rid of just about all of the food in our house. It turns out that dairy is in just about everything. We learned to not only read ingredients in our food better, but that dairy was often not listed in the ingredients and we had to check for the tiny D symbol on the front of packages to know for sure that it was dairy free.
    For a whole month we ate only fresh fruit and vegetables. It was hard and the kids complained and what made it even harder was that even our extended family complained. No one believed that food allergies could cause the problems that C had and that we would starve to death without meat, dairy, and gluten in our diet.
Here are some of the other documentaries we really loved:
"Fat,Sick,and Nearly Dead"
"Food Inc."
"Vegucated"
"The Gerson Miracle"

  The results we had in just one month was amazing. C was off all medications, no attacks, no runny nose, no ear problems, the swelling in her face went away and she was finally sleeping good! We also saw dramatic improvements in our whole family. I will post about that soon!

Into the Green Country: Surviving Child abuse and the Lessons I have Learned from it as a mother

I was born the oldest child in a very abusive home. By the time I was nine my parents had largely abandoned their parental responsibilities and I was left to fill in the void. On a daily basis I suffered physical, emotional, spiritual, and as I got older, financial abuse. And it had severe consequences as I found myself self medicating to deal with the horror I was going through. But that is a story for another time.

The amazing joy I experienced as I went through the healing process is a story for another time as well. This story is about motherhood. It is about the three things I have learned coming from a deeply abusive family as I try to raise my two little boys. And in essence it is about finding final peace as I allow my inner child to finally be.

Lesson #1: It’s Okay to play

This one was hard for me. I have been the acting adult in my family of origin since I was nine and as such I had little time for play. Before that, any attempt I made at creativity and imagination was met with mockery, ridicule and incessant teasing by members of my family. I hated doing any sort of imaginative play because I didn’t want to be made fun of. When I was little I thought I was so terrible that I didn’t even know how to play right. I numbed myself and locked that part of my soul away – until my first son was born.

It may seem a silly thing, but when something so basic to a child’s life, like pretend play, is taken from them and replaced with fear and humiliation it fundamentally damages a child. It leads to feelings of worthlessness and a fear of expression – at least I know it did with me. It takes the unabandoned joy of a child and turns it into shame. It leaves the child a partial creature.

After my first son was born I began to come to terms with my fear of pretend play. I was now in a loving relationship and a safe environment. My husband encouraged me to make up bedtime stories to tell our son every night. It was awkward in the beginning, but I quickly began to warm up to it. All three of us looked forward to those story times every night. I was finally beginning to feel free to be expressive in my creativity.

My son and I began playing with hand puppets and pretend food. We make forts and build with Legos and all the time I read stories to him. I read stories with expression. I read stories with made up voices. I read unafraid. After countless years I finally feel safe playing. My inner child can finally be.

Lesson #2: No matter how loud the voices are in your head, they are always wrong

Growing up I was constantly told that I was a wretch, that I was a terrible person. I was told that I was selfish and lazy, fat and ugly; that I didn’t deserve to get married and have children; that everyone would be happy if I would just die and I wish you were dead. I grew up believing that I was trash.

I’m here to say that words do hurt and some leave very deep scars. Do you know what it is like to have your family tell you for years that they wish you were dead? I was completely and utterly emotionally destroyed.

I believe this is one of the hardest things to heal from, because what you are told as a child becomes your inner dialogue. It is very hard to undo a firmly held belief that you have had since you were a small child. I believed I was a wretch because that was what I was always told. I believed I was fat because I was always compared to my anorexicly skinny cousins. I firmly believed I was incapable of being loved because that is what everyone’s words and actions said to me.

I am still fighting to overcome the voices in my head, but over the last few years they have faded and been replaced by the love and acceptance and joy that I thought that I would never have. It is amazing what the love and support of a wonderful man and the innocent love of two sweet little boys are able to do for a person.

Since I have become a mother I have discovered the profound truth that everything I had been told as a child was wrong. I am capable of being loved. I am a wonderful wife and mother. I am good enough. And where I may not be the prettiest creature in the world based on the world’s standard, I have an inner light that a number of people have commented on. So you know what? I really am quite a beautiful person.

I have begun to see myself through my husband’s and children’s eyes; and by doing that I have learned to love who I am and who I am becoming. I have found that by nature I am a gentle healer and a loving nurturer. I am an amazing, joyful and just really neat person.

Knowing the truth of the matter (that everything I had been told is wrong) has freed me on so many levels. I am not paralyzed by the horrors of my past. I am free to be my genuine self and by extension it has allowed me to become the mother I was always meant to be. Nobody is meant to be a prisoner of pain and despair. We are meant to be filled with joy and love and light.

Lesson #3: You need to allow yourself to mourn

I saved this one for last because this is the dearest to me. In so many ways I am still the frightened five year old cowering in the corner or hiding under my bed. Psychologists say that when a child grows up in a truly toxic family their emotional growth is usually halted at age five or six. That little girl longs to be heard, longs to be healed and longs to be let go. There comes a time where everyone who has been abused will have to rectify the horror with their inner child. That is something that I am coming to terms with right now as I raise my two little boys.

Over the last few years I have found myself reliving my childhood through my children. When I was pregnant with my first child I knew this would happen – how could it not? It is time for the little girl to finally be heard. Thankfully I have had the last ten years to understand flashbacks and learn how to deal with them.

When the first one hit I was surprised because it had come completely out of nowhere and was sparked by the simplest of things. (Which in essence is the description of a flashback, but that was the first time that my child had sparked one.) By this time I was intimately acquainted with flashbacks, but I wasn’t sure how to deal with them as a mother with small children. Do I push it aside and pretend everything is alright? Or do I embrace it and risk my children seeing mommy break down?

In the end I went for a middle ground – I gave myself naptime.

I have found that when things hit it is usually around naptime anyway, so that just works out great. And my older son has woken up from his nap and seen me crying sometimes, but it then becomes a lesson in compassion and understanding.

It is okay to allow yourself to mourn and grieve. I am not talking incessantly, but there comes a time where you need to let that inner child be heard. So many times I have found flashbacks taking me back to that lost little girl that was so scared and confused. As I love and accept my sons part of me asks, ‘Why was I never wanted?’ ‘Why was I never good enough?’ ‘What did I do to become the pariah?’

For years now I have found myself grasping to understand some of the things that have happened to me, and grieving that they happened in the first place - but then you need to let them go. Holding onto all of the pain and grief is just as damaging as numbing yourself to it. You need to face it, acknowledge it, grieve what happened to you, and then let go. (Prayer helps a lot with this) I find the process of going through this takes about an hour for me, and I feel so much the better afterwards.

As Gandalf says: “I will not say, do not weep, for not all tears are an evil.”

In fact, some tears are very healing.

by: Katie

The Big Kid Bed Fix

For months I've been dreading moving my toddler into her "big girl bed." We didn't have the attachments to change the crib into a toddler bed, and with baby #2 on the way it seemed pointless anyways. So we decided to skip ahead to a twin size bed and move her to that when she was ready.
My greatest fear was her rolling out of bed and getting injured. I love the girl to death, but she is a CRAZY sleeper (definitely takes after Daddy when it comes to sleep habits)! I can peak on her throughout the night and every time she is in a different, and even more awkward position. My other worry was how in the world I would keep her IN bed. She often plays in her crib for about 20-30 minutes before falling asleep... a routine she picked up after we weaned her off her pacifier. I am totally fine with her playing in bed when she's confined to a crib - but the idea of giving her an entire room to explore at bedtime petrified me! This girl would never go to sleep!
In preparation for her inevitable big move, my hubby built her a beautiful platform bed! I immediately started an online hunt for side rails that would work with a platform bed. Many of the rails I looked at were not clear in their description if they could be used with a platform bed - so I read a LOT if customer reviews! I only found one that sounded like a match... But it had poor quality reviews. So I looked at other options. I found some awesome foam bumpers that go under the fitted sheet, they looked perfect and had great reviews! They were about $40. I was about to order them when my sister-in-law suggested using pool noodles to do the same thing (but cheaper... I'm a huge fan of cheap)!)
So I bought 2 pool noodles from WalMart for less than $8! I had to go with the 3" noodles since they didn't carry the jumbo sized ones. There was no way little 3 inch bumpers were going to contain my crazy toddler though, so I rolled them in blankets to add extra thickness.

And what home-made bumpers would be complete without a touch of Duck Tape!!! I even used some as straps between the bumpers to keep them in place.

Then the fitted sheet went on which also helped keep it all together. My girl has been sleeping in her new bed for almost 3 weeks now and hasn't fallen out once!!! Woohoo for cheap fixes!

The Great Wait

As someone who is waiting to bring a sweet little girl home from China, I'd like to offer encouragement to others who are praying about adoption or in the process themselves.  I've heard many prospective and adoptive families express concern over the length of time an adoption can take.  I know that it CAN take a really long time, or sometimes it just FEELS like a really long time, and sometimes, you get to the end when you're about to bring your child home and you start freaking out because it's all happening so fast! (I'm in the freak out stage right now!)

When we adopted our son from Russia in 2011, the process from start to bringing him home was about 18 months.  To some, that may seem like an incredibly long, grueling timeframe.  To me, that's just how long it took.  When you think about it, the length of time between when a man and a woman start trying to have a baby and when they actually have a new human to care for, this can be a relatively quick process of roughly 10 months (if you're lucky!), to any number of years, to never.  Adoption happens this way also ~ everything is in God's perfect timing!

The adoption process starts with a home study in which a social worker visits your house several times over a few months.  During that time we were busy completing background checks, passport photos, parent training, local fingerprints and gathering copies of our birth and marriage certificates.  We were also simultaneously working on something called a Dossier (a group of documents that includes a home study, citizenship and immigration approval, medical reports, and a bunch of other stuff) that gets sent to the country where you are adopting from.  Having your Dossier sent to the country is a BIG DEAL and reason to celebrate…. now the waiting to be matched with your little one begins!

We began the adoption process for our daughter in March, 2013 and plan to travel this September (woo-hoo!!) to bring little sweet cheeks home.  We sailed through all of the initial paperwork (some people in the adoption community call this period a "paper pregnancy"), submitted our Dossier and then my husband deployed for 7 months.  A deployment happened after submitting the Dossier for our son's adoption as well.  Our agency worked with us to complete our paperwork before the deployments, and in both cases it worked out wonderfully!

This was the only time in the process that I felt the wait.  There was no paperwork to do, no social worker visits, just waiting for that sweet phone call telling us that we were matched with our little girl.  Our agency has a really informative Facebook page, but seeing others being matched quickly made me a little…oh, what's the word…impatient??

I remember talking to my husband (whom was overseas) the day before we were matched with our Mei.  It was about 4 1/2 months into the wait, and it was expected that this period could last anywhere from 3 to 6 months on average.  We were waiting for our agency to match us when a child became available, but I was also looking into other waiting children programs.  I complained.  I whined.  I uttered the words "ugh, why is it taking so long?".  My husband, whom was on a satellite phone somewhere in the Middle East, likely with bigger problems at hand, gave encouraging words like always and reminded me that when it happens, it'll happen. And boy, did it happen!

The next day a storm like I'd never seen came our way.  Wind flew and rain crashed down from the sky.  A friend I hadn't seen in years was visiting in the next town over, and despite the crazy weather I set out to see her.  After pulling over on the road a few times from falling debris, rain, and water rolling over the car like waves that made it impossible to see, I found myself in a hospital parking lot, debating whether I should go in for shelter.  

While sitting in the car a familiar number blinked on my phone.  Could this be it?  Is it the call?  Now?  Here? And after all that complaining I did yesterday?  YES! I found the familiar and cheerful voice of our social worker on the other end, telling me that we had been matched with a sweet little girl, and could view her file now.  Technology is a wonderful thing, folks.  I was able to email my husband the file right then, and he called me so we could view our girls' file "together".  

When you see your child's sweet face for the first time and your heart skips a beat, all of the time that you were waiting for this moment fades away.  We knew that this was our little girl before we even looked at her file, really.  It was just knowing that God had orchestrated this moment for us, and that He has a sense of humor indeed for this moment to take place where and when it did.  

We are now in the exciting stage of waiting (yes, still!) for approval to travel to China to bring our daughter home.  This is a four step process, starting with submitting I800 paperwork, an Article 5, then receiving travel approval and lastly receiving a Consulate Appointment.  When we know when our appointment day is, we will then be able to book our travel arrangements around it.  If you asked me to explain any of these steps, I don't think I could.  We rely on the expertise and experience of our social worker to guide us through everything, and she's wonderful at it!  

We also applied for our visas during this time and worked at getting everything together that we will need to travel.  (If you're an organizing junkie like I am, you've really been working on this since last year, when you did your application….)  And then, of course, there is a little girl's room to get ready!  Oh, the burst of raspberry and pink that has exploded in her room!  Then clothes, sippy cups, stroller, let's just say a lot of shopping has happened during this time.  Instead of focusing on the wait, our family is trying to educate and prepare ourselves for bringing a child with special needs.

So, yes, the whole adoption process does take a bit of time.  But, honestly, there is so much mental, emotional, financial, and physical preparation that goes into it, I can't see how it would or should happen any faster.  All throughout this process there have been stages, and the joy that comes with graduating to the next stage.  We are so happy to say that our next stage is welcoming the newest member of our family!  

By: Sarah Plevinski