16 weeks

12 weeks

The Girlies' Announcement

Belly Blog Carnival

One of my favorite blogs is The Well-Rounded Mama, and the author, kmom, is hosting a Belly Blog Carnival! The Carnival is to promote honest talk about our pregnant and post-pregnant bodies, and our struggles to accept them as they are, while still focusing on the positive. I'm going to attempt to do that, but please be aware that, in the interest of honesty, not all of my body talk will necessarily be positive. Because I do struggle with accepting my body in the state three pregnancies (and not always taking proper care of myself) have left it. But why?


"There is no other organ quite like the uterus. If men had such an organ they would brag about it. So should we." 
— Ina May Gaskin


My body has done amazing things. It has grown and nurtured life. Not once or twice, but three times! My belly has expanded to make room for entire human beings inside of itself. That is pretty awesome. My body was cut open, and left scarred, but it healed! It healed! And went on to carry and birth two more babies! It has been stretched and stretched again, returning to close to normal each time. My breasts have nursed my three babies for many years, at least 18 months a piece. But I have also provided life-giving milk to three babies who were not my own through milk donation. Gallons and gallons of milk from my body! 

My body has done all of the amazing, wonderful things I have asked of it. Yet I do sometimes feel ashamed of the way it looks. I get frustrated that my belly didn't shrink back to the way it was before I was ever pregnant, before it was cut open and rearranged. I get embarrassed that I have stretch marks. My "cesarean shelf" quickly turned into an apron that I hate with a passion. It can be so, so hard to remember all of the amazing things my body has done when I'm in the midst of that self hate, or when someone says something cruel as I walk by. 


Women's bodies are changed by childbirth. Long ago and far away that was revered. 

Saggy breasts, full bellies and wide hips were normal and expected. They're still normal, yet seem very unexpected. We live in a world where our self esteem is determined by how soon after birth we can squeeze into our skinny jeans, rather than being cherished for who we are and what we do. That world inside our own head, where we are meaner to ourselves than we would ever allow anyone else to be to us. So, at least for today, I am celebrating my body and my belly for all it has done for me. I accept all of it, the way it is - the way I am. At least for today, I choose to see my stretch marks as signs of the life I carried within me, my scar as evidence of my love for my children. Body, at least for today, I love you!

Video: The HBA2C of Lilah Rayne!

This birth happened a few weeks after Lauren was born. I not only got to be there, I took many of these pictures!! It was a beautiful, amazing birth, and I was so blessed to be there. Congratulations again, Carol!

Finally Wrote That Letter!

Today is Emily's fourth birthday! A few days ago, I sat down and finally wrote the letter to the anesthesiologist who helped me so much during her birth. I haven't sent it yet; I still have to find his contact information. But here is what I wrote:

February 23, 2011

Dear Dr. X,

I don’t expect you to remember me; we met for only a few short minutes almost four years ago now. But in that time, you made a huge difference in my life. I’ve been meaning to write to you and thank you for all that time. I don’t know why it took me so long, but it finally feels like the right time.

                Four years ago, on February 26, 2007, I walked into A. Hospital in labor with my second baby. But the story starts days before, when my waters broke almost a week before I went into labor. My first baby had been born via a very traumatic cesarean, and I wanted a VBAC more than anything in the world, other than a healthy second baby. So I stayed home and waited for labor to start. It finally did on February 25^th. I labored all day and all night, and into the next day. After 30+ hours, we made the difficult decision that something felt wrong, and headed in to the hospital, knowing I’d be going in for another cesarean. At the front desk, I was offered a wheelchair. I wanted it, but I could not take it. I think now that I was buying myself every extra second I could get. I walked up to the birthing center, stopping every two or three minutes for another contraction.

                It felt like it took hours, but I finally made it up to the birthing center. I could barely tell the nurses my name at that point. They hustled me into a room, and took a quick history. When I said I was a VBACer, they made it clear that the hospital doesn’t support VBAC, and I resigned myself to my fate. The doctor on call was just leaving, so he refused to see me. The new doctor on call was still seeing patients up in R, so it was decided that I should get an epidural, rather than wait for a spinal right before surgery.

                So that’s where I was when we had occasion to meet. You walked into my room and told me about the risks of epidural, pausing for my contractions. I’d never had a doctor do that before, wait for me to be capable of listening. It makes a big difference, you know. That little pause shows women that you think of them as human. And it makes a big difference.

                You told me you were going to give me just enough drugs to take the edge off, and started telling me that I did not want to be recovering from surgery and caring for a newborn at the same time. I was expecting the opposite to the point that I replied, “I know, you think I was stupid for even trying…”

                You got a little more into my face then, to make sure I heard you, and told me No. We are going to get this baby out before the doctor can get here. Then you gave me a perfect epidural. The edge was off, but I still had to work through each contraction. Then you left, and I don’t remember seeing you again.

                I know you probably don’t remember me, and that’s okay, but I’ve always wondered if you ever heard what happened, or if for you, the story ends here. And I wanted you to know the end. I didn’t get the baby out before the doctor made it in, but by then I was strong enough again to sign the AMA papers, declining the cesarean.  At 8:55 pm, I pushed my second daughter into this world, with a crowd of onlookers. For me, there was no one in the world but her and I. She was perfect and we were both healthy and fine. We named her Emily Michelle. She was eight pounds and three ounces. (My first daughter had been six pounds, fourteen ounces and I was told she was too big for me!)

                Emily is about to turn four. She is a delightful child, and loves to draw. She can’t wait to start school with her big sister. Two years ago, I gave birth to my third daughter, at home. She was nine pounds, eight ounces. Her birth was seven hours, start to finish.

                If I had ended up with another cesarean with my second baby, I don’t think I’d have been capable of trying again. I wouldn’t have my third baby at all. Birth IS that important in a woman’s life. It is not routine for us. It is life-changing and earth-shattering. Being respected (or not)and having our wishes honored (or not) impacts us forever. For the staff, we are just another woman, just another birth. But it isn’t just another birth from this side. We remember forever.

                I take credit for Emily’s birth. I refused induction, I waited as long as possible to come in, I signed the AMA papers, and I pushed her out. That still, four years later, feels so good to say. I PUSHED HER OUT! But you came to me when I was weak. You were kind to me, and you gave me strength. That’s just how it should be, but so often isn’t. So I thank you. Your words of kindness changed my life, and I will be forever grateful to you. Thank you. Thank you! THANK YOU! From the bottom of my heart.

Lexi Diaz 

Reflections on Lauren's Birth- And more Pictures!

Lauren is TWO today! I can't believe it's been two years since she was born. Her birth was the most amazing birth I could possibly have imagined. Everything went exactly how I had wanted it to go. There were tiny things, like the meconium, but those things didn't end up important to the story at all. The things that were important to me- my perfect birth list, if you will- went like this:

Labor between six and eight hours- check. While the time from first contraction to birth was about 14 hours, I wasn't in active labor until six hours before she was born, almost to the minute!

Labor surrounded by people who love and support me- check. While I planned so many support people so they could work in shifts, it worked out that everyone got to be there when Lauren was born!

Labor without interruption with "medical" things (no cervical checks, no one telling me how to push, etc.)- check. I had heart tones checked once or twice (at my request) and reminders to breathe while I was pushing. Otherwise, as far as interference goes, I might as well have been alone. That's a good thing!

Touch the baby's head as it was crowning- check.

Chris catches- check. Made his year, too!

Chris discovers the sex of the baby- check.

Skin-to-skin with baby- check.

Maddie was there- check.

Emily sleeping upstairs- check.

Baby latches on to nurse all by herself- check.

I know it might seem odd, checking a checklist for a birth, but that's how it felt to me when I thought about it in the days and weeks after. I really had made a list, a set of preferences I wanted my birth helpers to know I wanted. And it really felt like almost every one had been checked off. It was beautiful.

I don't really have the words to explain how Lauren's birth, and her life, have changed me. She is absolutely, without doubt, a gift from God. She is the most joyful, amazing, cheerful little girl. In her first weeks of life, she cried less than ten minutes total. She smiled at two days and laughed by a week. And hasn't stopped. We have our moments, of course, but she is very easygoing and not much bothers her. Which is good with two older sisters!

And now, pictures!!

The placenta, and the true knot in the cord that somehow didn't make it into her birth story!

Getting weighed! Her cord still wasn't clamped or cut at this point, and she's at least an hour old.

Emily came down to join us! She's just a baby herself. She'll be two in six days in this picture.

Meeting their baby sister for the first time.

Daddy bonding with the baby while Mommy gets cleaned up. The girls were back in bed.

And, my birthday girl!

Not the best picture, but all she was willing to sit still.