Having a baby in 1983

If ever the stars were in alignment it must have been my pregnancy and delivery with Erin.  I was confident that I knew what I wanted.  I was going to have a midwife and I was going to have in addition to my Love someone who could come to our home and monitor my labor to let us know when to go to the hospital.  I wasn't going to go early like I did with my first labor. 

I got pregnant within the first month and did a home pregnancy test in the second month.  With the good tidings of a baby on the way I went out and bought an armload of pregnancy books with these two being my favorite reads,  "A Good Birth, A Safe Birth" and  "Spiritual Midwifery".  Reading both enlightened my unknowing eyes to having a birth my way!

While the idea of having a home birth was in my peripheral vision,  I wasn't sure if I was ready to take the leap.  I had tried the ABC (Alternative Birth Unit) unit when I had Kristin but I ended up in L & D for her birth.  I did like the ABC unit as they left us alone to labor.  And when I say alone, I mean they hardly peeked in the room.  They could have been more helpful to a first time mommy and daddy to be in labor.  I think in my head I wasn't quite ready to commit to a home birth so the idea of a midwife in a hospital setting felt more along the lines of my mindset. 

In Oakland I found a freestanding, progressive thinking group of people that offered classes as well as a wealth of information on doctors, hospitals, and midwives. It was called Birthways.  I went there, pulled down a binder about midwives in the Bay Area and found the mana for my pregnancy; stories of birth.  I could have sat there for days but I sat there for several hours and selected the names of several midwives to ponder over and to call.  The one I choose was Carole Hagin.  It was the birth stories of her being the midwife for other mommy's to be that had me dialing her number and making that first appointment.  Every one loved her and spoke highly of her care.

She was everything that I didn't have with my first pregnancy.  I learned more about my body with her than I ever could imagine.  I learned how to test my own urine at each visit, do my own weight and chart it.  I felt actively involved in this pregnancy which empowered my confidence when the time would come to give birth.  I wasn't just a pregnant mom in a waiting room waiting for a doctor to tell me what the drill would be.  

Carol's office was with a OB though I only saw him once during my pregancy, more like a meet and greet as he would be the standing doctor if I needed one.  Since having midwives at the hospital I was to deliver at was so new, he would also be required to attend the delivery.  He seemed like this whole midwife thing was okay and I liked that about him.  It felt trusting as well as comfortable.

My pregnancy was easy even if I did have morning sickness for a couple of months.  I began taking a prenatal yoga class which let me bring Kristin and was a delightful time as we all get bigger and rounder with our bellies. 

When I was around 34 weeks I started seeing a different midwife (there were several in the office), Peggy Vincent, who also taught childbirth classes, of which we had signed up for.  With Kristin we did Lamaze and I detested it swearing that while it helped, all that crazy breathing didn't feel natural.  Peggy's class was a hit for my Love and I.  We had a great group of parents who attended the classes and I could feel the bond we were creating.  The classes were held in a woodsy house in Berkeley, with soft pillows, a tea break and our ever animated Peggy guiding us along week after week.

We also found out about two nurses who had started a business call "Labor of Love".  One or the other would come to our home, monitor my labor as well as be an additional labor coach.  I didn't want to go to the hospital till I was well along.  We found a photographer who would take birth photos too.  All was falling into place for the birth in May.

Looking back it was a good time to have a baby.  Everyone seemed against having drugs at birth, C-sections were low, and on the whole women were proactive in how they wanted their birth to be.  It was the time of the Leboyer bath for the newborn baby, breastfeeding was in (and uncovered!), it was about having a supportive birth and a healthy baby without intervention of epidurals or other potential labor slowing drugs.  It was a time of walking, squatting, hands and knees in labor, hands on touching, massaging, soft voices, birth as a normal, natural process of life.  Where the rite of passage to womanhood was felt in pain, laughter, tears, and joy.  Where a father could witness a birth, help in a birth, be there just as he should be.  It was giving birth without feeling it was a medical problem.  It was giving life and creating a family bond.

Rocking my babe

My eyes look down upon your soft rosy cheeks.  The rhythm of your suckling steady and greedy.  Whatever has transpired in my day has faded away as though dusk has fallen around me.  No longer tired, no longer rushed, no longer does my mind create tasks yet to be done.  I am here, with you as we rock in the rocker with it's creak on the hardwood floor.  Like the rhythm of your nursing we create our own song.

Your eyes are closed with your long brown lashes fanned and curled, and sweat dampens your soft wispy hairline.  My arm is damp in the crook where I hold you.  Rocking, rocking.

Your drowsy and milk drunk.  Eyes flutter beneath your heavy lids as you lose latch and nurse the air.  Yet even with eyes closed you find your milk source and pick up the rhythm with our rocking.   An odd suckle here and there till off you drop into dreamland.

Sweet child of mine, my little lamb.  I gently lift you to my shoulder and rub your back, round and round waiting for your burp.  Firm and soft my hand goes, in rhythm with my rocking.  I sing my little song to you,
"Come on Mr. Burpy, come on lets go,
 come on Mr. Burpy,
 we don't have all day you know!".

 Warm and damp with the effort of nursing, your cheek leaves mine damp too.  Quiet in this time of ours.  I hear your sister playing in the other room, busy with make believe.  Soon, too soon, you will be off at play with her and I will watch with wonder and the perfect joy you both have brought me.

Packing ~ a gift my mother taught me

I learned everything about packing from my mom.  She was a master at packing up to move. 

I'm packing up our kitchen because we are remodeling.  I was laying out my packing paper and boxes when this memory of my mom and I at my dining table comes to me of the two of us packing up the dishes from years ago.  Goodness knows how many times we did this together.  My Love and I have moved from apartment to homes countless times and at every one it was my mom who was there ready and willing to work.  Looking back I'm not sure why she volunteered but she seemed to take it on as an important mission to make sure my treasured dishes and glassware would arrive safe and sound without a chip or broken piece in box.

She would stand in front of the table where the pile of brown packing lay stacked, would pick up dishes first, wrap them sometimes with a single paper or sometimes two, pass it to me to fill the box and keep repeating this.  We could have the whole kitchen done in several hours.  

Was her skilled earned from the many times she and my dad moved when they first married while he was in the Military?  Was it the years married to my stepfather Bill and the countless times we moved from rental house to rental house?  By the time Rock and she married she was a pro at whipping up packing for moving.  She never let a mover pack her dishes and crystal.  Never trust a moving company with the fine breakables.

Then my Love and I marry.  We moved to San Francisco and begin our lives.  We lived there a year and then moved into our first home that we bought.  We lived on the 4th floor in an old apartment building across from Golden Gate Park on Fulton with no elevators.  Three big bay windows where we threw down pillows and bedding items that wouldn't break versus going up and down the stairs.  My mom and I packed my new wedding china and crystal.  We packed my new everyday Dansk dishes.  Pots and pans, bowls, silverware and oh how did we fit so much into that little kitchen and breakfast area?  No rest breaks till we were done.  The final words from my parents after that move was not to move into any building that had no elevators if it was more than two floors.  We've lived in one level homes except for one that had three half stairs, with one level where the bedrooms were,  one level to the laundry and the kids play area and the main living area including the kitchen in the middle.

I'm wrapping my dishes alone.  I'm thinking how slow this is to do it alone.  I've barely made a dent in the hutch as I have a cold and I'm getting tired and hot.  I'm missing my mom and how she would have made hay out of this job.  I look at my wrapping and find my hands taking the plate, laying it cross wise on the paper, bring the corner up to cover the plate over the front, roll the plate and paper, add another plate and roll again then fold the paper around the plates.  Carefully I pick it up and carry it to the box.  I begin again.  

Boxes begin to start an orderly stack in my dining room where all will be stored till the unwrapping begins weeks from now.  She would have been there to unwrap as well.  A much slower process for if you unwrap too quickly you might easily drop a plate, cup or bowl.  Then was the deciding of where to place it all.  She was a help even for that.  We worked quite well this team work of ours.  Never an angry word or a difference of opinion when it came to placement.  I appreciated her wisdom of laying out a kitchen, or in this case my kitchen.  

She wasn't the greatest cook but she could create an efficient kitchen and she knew how to pack.

Spring Clean!

I haven't written here in so long.  My need to write just wasn't in my heart.  I needed time to do something else.  What?  Oh I've been scanning, uploading, photo editing, making folders, making albums, making myself happy with sharing old photos of ages when I was a teen with a friend who was doing the same for me.  I was carefree and crazy with it all!

So am I here in this moment of writing?  I have four blogs, can I do four?  No.  I have to let go of one.  Maybe two.  We will see.  I think I need to let go of Pupperoos! because it was too much of my life.  I had no idea how many dog blogs there were out there in blogland!  Oh I did enjoy it but it kept pulling me away from my writer's thoughts.  It was a quick fix of photos of my poochies and snippets of words.  Fluff.  But I'm more than that.  I can't be a quickie writer.  To all the dog bloggers I send thee a fare the well.....thank you for making me laugh at your adorable photos.

I'm moving on.   But don't think for one moment that I won't post a poochie photo or write about them here.  I love my poochies and they are a big part of my life.  Crazy I am but we are looking to add another to our twosome that we have.  Late summer I hope to find a Golden back in our home.  Patience...be still my heart for a Golden. 

There, I've posted one of Tucker and his favorite squirrel.  

Enough.....time for me to clean up the blog...I've some sweeping to begin. 

Happy Holiday decorating

Each year I like to come up with a different way of decorating the Christmas gifts.  This year I had some nifty ideas that I found via Pinterest with a twist of my own.  I bought brown mailing paper, then I found old vintage Christmas photos of children online, downloaded them, and printed them to use on top of a layer of burlap and ribbon, added a gift tag with Baker's twine with the cute red and white stripe for color.  The cute snowflake craft paper I bought at Staples that is a Martha Stewart holiday wrapping paper they are selling this year.

Little boxed gifts on the piano lid with one of my favorite Santa Claus's

Since my daughter got married in October, I had wallet photos made to put in small frames, add a little red ribbon so they can hang as a tree ornament.

My girlfriend Lori and I saw at Crate and Barrel Christmas tree candles that they had put in Hurricane bowls.  We liked that too so we each bought one of the candles to see what we could come up with.  The white "snow" is Rock Salt.  I added a little Santa Claus that I bought at World Market to create a "Winter scene".

Lastly, Tucker perched on the chair near our Christmas tree.  Be a good boy Tucker and no eating the packages!

It was quite a Wedding....

October 13, 2012.....    I've been gone for so long.   Truly I've been overwhelmed with many emotions of joy (I never knew one could have so many moments of joy and how they would each be so special and unique to my heart!).  

So here I share just a tip of the joy our family had on our dear daughters wedding day....enjoy.

I'll be back, really I will.  Now the holidays have come and a New Year just on the heels of it all.  I'm still going through photos from out Wedding week in New Hampshire and may I just say I fell in love with the scenery, his family and all their friends.  The Fall colors, the crisp (chilly!) days, even the days we had a bit of rain it was magic!  In fact that has been my overused word for our daughter and her dear hubby B. Wedding.

Magic.....  magic....  it was.

Where I have been these days.....

I'm sorry that I haven't blogged in such a long, long time....we have a wedding in the family and I just have busy getting ready for it.  

Oh then starting in July we had a lot of time with family gatherings, vacation and poof! time passes by swiftly!

I don't think I'll be back till after mid October.....but if I have a chance I'll try to write..really I will.

I've thought of my blog friends and so much has gone on since the last time I read any blogs I'm sure.

I'm working on a special gift to bring to the wedding and my time is devoted to that....

Very happy times around here!!!!