A Letter to Moriah on Her First Birthday

My Dearest Moriah,

This past year has flown by, and it is hard to believe that you are one year old already!  You may have noticed that I always say, “It’s hard to believe” when I talk about anyone’s birthday these days, but it really is hard to believe.  It has been an amazing year.  We have made so many memories together, and because of you, I have learned to see life in a whole new way.

I am remembering back to the very beginning.  My pregnancy with you was difficult in some ways, and I was so afraid I would lose you.  Early on, it felt so much like my pregnancies with your two siblings I lost to miscarriage, and I braced myself for the worst, expecting to relive that heartache yet again.  I remember going to the pregnancy center for an ultrasound and being asked if I had any concerns about you.  I did, of course.  I didn’t have morning sickness, and in the past that only ever meant one thing.  One awful, horrible thing.

But I gathered up my courage and tried to be strong as we started the scan.  I wanted to, yet dreaded to look up at the screen, as seeing an empty, lifeless sonogram is a heartwrenching experience.  But you were alive!  There you were, wiggling, and your little heart was beating strong!  As I watched you on the screen, I was overcome with emotion.  I felt my throat tighten as a lump formed, then my eyes brimmed with tears, and before I knew it I was bawling great big heaving, hyperventilating sobs right there on the exam table.

You might think my mind was completely relieved at that point.  I was thrilled to know that you were okay, but just because you were all right at that moment didn’t mean you would continue to be all right.  For various reasons, I still couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was wrong or was going to go wrong.  It made it difficult to love you with wild abandon, and it was hard for me to feel close to you, fearing I might lose you.  Oh, how I hated that feeling, and I hate even remembering it now.  It wasn’t fair to you, but at the time I didn’t seem to be able to do anything about it.  It’s not like I worried every day that something was going to happen to you, but it was always there in the back of my mind, lingering.

The weeks wore on, we both grew larger, and another ultrasound showed you to be a healthy girl.  I had wanted a second ultrasound halfway through to make sure there was no reason I should not continue planning a long-desired home birth.  I was so happy when everything looked good.  I told Daddy that as long as I was finally going to have my “dream birth” (as far as I could plan it to be, anyway) that I was going to splurge and have a water birth too.

As it got closer to the time for you to be born, we were all so excited to meet you.  We had hoped that last ultrasound would have revealed if you were a little boy or little girl, but we just couldn’t tell for sure.  So it was going to be a very big surprise when you arrived!  Hannah and Elisabeth were earnestly hoping and praying for a baby sister.

Because all your brothers and sisters except Caleb were born later than their due date, I wasn’t too hopeful about you arriving anytime before May 18.  But imagine my surprise when I knew you were going to be born before that date.  We had out-of-town company spending the night, and that’s when my labor started.  It was crazy!  Just imagine how ecstatic your siblings were—the next day was Mother’s Day, dear friends were staying at the house, AND you were going to be born too!  That was almost more excitement than they could handle, and we will surely tell you all about it someday.

When you were born, it was one of the most precious moments of my life.  Not only did I finally get to have my dream birth . . . and it was truly a dream birth . . . but you, dearest one, were blessed by my dream birth as well.

When I held you in my arms and looked at your sweet face, I felt right away there was something extra special about you and began asking my midwife what she knew about Down syndrome.  Though my interactions with anyone with Down syndrome were practically nonexistent and I had never before seen a baby with Down syndrome, I was pretty certain that’s what you had.

Oh, Moriah, you can’t imagine my gratitude at having those moments with you at home.  Home sweet home.  Home . . . where we could cuddle you and love on you and thank God for delivering you safely to our arms.  All my worries during my pregnancy that something would go wrong . . .  those worries were strangely gone.  Because I honestly did not feel like anything did go wrong.  You had arrived, and you were okay.  You had Down syndrome, but you were okay!  God’s grace was abundant, Moriah, because He helped me to see you only as the precious blessing you are.

At that moment, I was grateful for our home birth for reasons entirely different from the ones that compelled to plan such a birth in the first place.  There was no hospital drama.  No lectures about my age, or how many children we already had, or why on earth I hadn’t I had an amnio.  No whispering behind my back, no pitying looks, no medical students coming in to stare at you, and no one telling me anything contrary to the fact that you are a precious child of God, formed by His hand and made in His image, a beautiful little person deserving of life and love . . . just like every baby.

It was all good, Moriah.  There was nothing but love.  And I was so. very. thankful.

Our faith in Jesus Christ is our rock, Moriah, and you will learn a lot more about that as you grow up.  I knew you were exactly who God planned you to be . . . exactly who.  And I know that His works will be displayed in you.  And even though your Down syndrome was a surprise to us, it wasn’t a surprise to God.  There is tremendous comfort in clinging to that truth, Moriah.  Because life is full of surprises and challenges.

Yes, I will tell you there were a few tears, but only a very few, and not even at first.  We didn’t know anything about Down syndrome and there was so much to learn, and it was scary to think of some of the difficulties you might have growing up.  Mommies and daddies don’t ever want their little ones to have to struggle, and that made me a little sad.

Besides being thankful you were born at home, there was one other blessing I was tremendously thankful for at the time, and still am—your brothers and sisters.  You know full well how much they all adore you, since you constantly seem to have somebody’s lips all over your face.  When you were first born, it was a comfort to my heart knowing that you had not only Mommy and Daddy here to love on you, but five big brothers and sisters too—five special people in your life who have been there for you since your birth and will continue to be there for you as you grow.

In those early days I said over and over again how much I was thankful for those two things.  And when I think back to the day you were born—one whole year ago—I am blessed all over again.  I love you, Moriah, and I can’t tell you how many times I have held you in my arms and had tears well up just because I have so much love for you that it overflows.

We have had some hard times too, though, haven’t we?  Mostly for me, I guess.  There is so much to figure out about how best to care for you and how to help you reach your full potential.  Nothing comes quite as easily for you as it did for your brothers and sisters, and we have to fight for each new milestone, don’t we?  It’s exhausting for both of us at times.  Many times.  Things are sometimes complicated, and often there are no easy answers . . . or even any answers.

But your smiles and giggles rejuvenate me, and I know that any sacrifice on my part is worth it.  Because YOU are worth it, my sweet, precious girl!  You have brought untold joy to our family.  You are my delight, and I am so thankful and blessed I get to be your mommy.  Today especially, we celebrate the awesome gift of your life.

With all my love,

Mommy

My Mother’s Day Present

~   Moriah Grace   ~

8 lb.

20 inches long

a blessing from the Lord

The Waiting Game

I’m 38.5 weeks along now, and the household is definitely filled with anticipation.  And as much as I’d love to go early, I’d have to say the kids are by far the antsiest.  I’m normally late and am resolved to the same fate this time, but I honestly feel like I’m about to pop and would be thrilled for things to get moving any time now.

My Braxton-Hicks contractions have become increasingly frequent and intense, which I’ve come to expect (and they do not fool me one bit!) but it’s difficult to make the little ones understand why these contractions do not mean I’m in labor.  Elisabeth asks me every day when I’m going to have the baby, and just two nights ago Hannah was convinced my labor had started (even though I assured her it had not) and went to bed full of wishful thinking.

After a fitful night’s “sleep,” I awoke later than normal and after all the kids were up.  I momentarily thought it would be fun to wrap up a bundle in pink and blue and call downstairs for everyone to “come see who I’m holding,” then immediately decided it would be a very cruel joke to play.  Still, everyone laughed and laughed at breakfast when I told them what I’d considered doing, and said it would have been so much fun if I had played that prank on them.  But I know it was much more fun having only talked about it; otherwise, I’d have surely had some consoling to do.

Everyone is pitching in and helping out more, especially with chores that require extensive bending or stretching on my part.  For instance, dishes are kind of tricky when your belly nearly prevents you from even reaching the faucet, and getting clothes out of the dryer is nigh unto impossible.  It sure is handy having short little people in the house who can easily pick up things when I drop them or retrieve items from the back of the lower kitchen cabinets.  But if no one is nearby to help pick up, I put my toes to good use because, notwithstanding the swelling, third-trimester moms necessarily have toes with impressive dexterity.

Along with extra help, I’m also getting lots of moral support here.  Just this week, in response to my muttering something about a hippopotamus, one of my children spoke up and said, “Mom, your belly IS enormous, but it’s not FAT—it’s baby—so that’s okay.”  Ahh, thanks.  That makes me feel ever so much better.

And so we all wait. . . . but hopefully not much longer.

Nesting, and I Don’t Mean the Chickens

I finally have kitchen curtains up!

When we first moved in, we decided curtains were not a priority.  After all, the windows did have either mini blinds or vinyl blinds, and the added expense of window treatments was unnecessary, especially in light of the fact that we had an unsold house as well.

Well, the old house sold months and months ago, and other projects came along.  We had kind of gotten used to the “no curtains” look, and I wasn’t sure how I wanted to dress the windows anyway, so it got put off.
Why I waited until I was 36 weeks along to decide that kitchen curtains were a priority is something probably no one understands (except perhaps another mom who remembers her nesting days.)

Loose ends, incomplete tasks . . . sometimes they just jump out at you and suddenly seem very important, and not always at the most convenient times.

So I eventually made a trip to Hobby Lobby, determined to find some suitable fabric in one stop, or else just let go of the whole curtain obsession.

There is something about ticking I have always liked, and this fabric appealed to me.  It has the right colors—the blue to pull from the border and the beige to match the vinyl blinds.  It’s hard to tell from the photo, but it has a tea-stained look to it as well, which adds a rustic flavor I want to incorporate more of into this house.

Sewing them up was easy.  Putting them up . . . well, that was no small feat, considering that these windows are in a corner above the sink.  Getting up there just to wash windows is cumbersome enough.  But this time I not only washed windows, but also had to nail up the rods and arrange the gathers just right—all after hoisting up myself AND my 20-lb. gargantuan beautiful belly.  Whew.  The memory itself is fatiguing.

I know I have helpers here, and you may wonder, as my husband did out loud, why I did not just have him do the job.  I’m not sure; I guess some tasks just need mom’s touch.

I’m not sure where the “nesting” ends and the routine maintenance of a household begins, but the big things I wanted to accomplish before baby’s arrival are done (in addition to a number of smaller things)

• the baby items are all arranged and waiting for the big day
• meals are being added to the freezer to make life easier after baby arrives
• the kids’ end-of-year testing is complete
• next year’s curriculum has been decided on, ordered, and most of it has arrived

And now that the curtains are up, I’m ready to have this baby anytime.  I’m nearly 38 weeks now and feeling very ready.  Looking ready too, wouldn’t you say?

~

                  Don’t miss my Lilla Rose giveaway going on now through May 8 at           The Prairie Homestead!

Real Food, No-Sugar Vanilla Ice Cream

We are thrilled that Roberts’ Farm, our seasonal, all-grass-fed dairy, is back in milk!  With calving season in full swing, there is an abundance of cream in this early spring milk, and we like to enjoy its delicious, nutritious richness in a variety of uses—and yesterday I made ice cream.

You’ll only need four ingredients for this real food recipe, which is another of my kitchen experiments.  Don’t be afraid of the raw dairy (or eggs,) provided you have a trusted source—preferably pastured.  Raw cream contains many nutrients that are otherwise inactivated, damaged, or destroyed during pasteurization, such as folic acid, vitamin A, vitamin B6, vitamin C, lipase, lactase, phosphatase, various immune-boosting factors, milk proteins, omega-3 fats and more.

And of the omega-6s found in milk, arachidonic acid (ARA) is one of the most significant fats necessary to fuel rapid brain growth in third trimester babies.  So if you happen to be in your third trimester as I am . . . well, go ahead and eat up. 

REAL FOOD, NO SUGAR VANILLA ICE CREAM

3 1/2 cups fresh, raw cream, preferably from pastured cows

3 fresh egg yolks, preferably from pastured poultry

1/2 cup raw, local honey

1 T. pure vanilla extract

Whisk together all ingredients and pour into electric ice cream maker.  Mine is a Cuisinart, and this recipe fills it just right.

Freeze according to manufacturer’s instructions, and you’ll end up with this.

I transfer it to an airtight container and place in the freezer for it to firm up for at least a few hours before serving.

Yum, yum, yum.  Delicious and creamy, not too sweet, and a hint of honey flavor—and good for you!

Edited to Add:  For my delicious honey-chocolate syrup recipe which is great in milk or on ice cream, click here.

32 Weeks

Aren’t these the most adorable little feet?  Nothing is cuter than chubby little baby feet attached to those chubby little baby ankles.  Even the chubby little tops of their feet are cute too.  (Hannah’s feet, by the way.)

Unfortunately, while it may be cute on babies, it is definitely not cute on feet that are all grown up.  Good thing flip flop weather arrived early this year, since nothing else fits my chubby, not-so-little, not-so-cute feet these days.

I was hoping that last week was a fluke, as ankles that disappear by noon and sausage toes are not pregnancy symptoms I’m accustomed to dealing with.  But I’d better get used to it, because it’s become obvious they’re here to stay—for an anticipated 8 more weeks.

I’ve had a handful of odd (for me) symptoms this time around, but thankfully other of my familiar, bothersome pregnancy symptoms have been strangely absent.  Overall, I’ve come out on the good end of the symptom swap, so I’m definitely not complaining.

But . . .

lying around with my feet up is not my idea of a good time, as I much prefer to be up and doing.  But by the end of the day and (often mid-afternoon,) the pain gives me no choice.  Ice and elevation are my comforting companions.

So, any ideas for what I should do while I’m lounging my way through this beautiful spring?  Besides bon bons and classical music, I mean?  Oh, and moaning softly and asking everyone to do things for me?

It’s no fun to be nudged into circumstances beyond our control, even in the minor things like this, as it’s kind of interfered with my to-do lists, you know?  But it’s another reminder that we’re not really in control as much as we tend to think we are (or sometimes wish we could be,) isn’t it?

But on the bright side . . . the reward of living with my chubby, not-so-little, not-so-cute feet will be getting to see another pair of feet soon—the chubby, little, cute kind.

And we can’t wait.

Postpartum Tummy Wrapping, Anyone?

I had never heard of this practice until I recently read this post over at The Modest Mom.  This is very intriguing, and my fist impression is that yes, this totally makes sense—especially for moms who have had multiple births, or for older moms with perhaps slightly less toned abdominal muscles, or both.  (not that I personally know anyone who would fit into both those categories)

The historical motivation for doing this is apparently not to quickly regain your slim figure, but to support your organs, your muscles and your back while your body returns to normal.  Getting your figure back quicker is an obvious perk, though.

I googled and found another helpful article here. 

Hmm.  Interesting, isn’t it?  I can’t help consider for myself in a few months.

Has anyone tried this?  I would really love to hear your thoughts and experiences.

Baby Kicks

I’m not sure which is sweeter . . .

feeling those baby kicks myself . . .

or feeling my little ones feeling those baby kicks.

It’s one of pregnancy’s sweetest joys!

Diaper Cake Tutorial

If you want to see some quizzical looks on your children’s faces, tell them you’re going to make a diaper cake. Then watch their expressions as you get out some cake pans and a skillet . . . and proceed to fill them with diapers!

My kids know how much I enjoy cake baking and decorating, and for a minute there, they sure did wonder what mom was up to . . .

As with other of my “copycat” projects, I’m not quite sure where I first saw this idea online, but a quick google just now tells me there are a number of diaper cake tutorials out there.

This is such an adorable decoration or gift, and with an upcoming baby shower to attend, I knew we’d be making a diaper cake this week.  Here’s how to do it.

Get a big pack of size 1 diapers—ones which are all white on the back, without any designs.  Pamper’s Swaddlers are perfect for this.  Don’t worry about the yellowish wetness strip you see on the diaper; since it’s in the middle it will get covered up.

You’ll need at least 70 diapers to make a 3-tier cake this size (6-inch, 8-inch and 10-inch layers.)

You can see how I’ve spiraled the diapers around inside the pans and secured them with rubber bands.  I used a 6-inch and 8-inch cake pan along with a larger skillet (since I don’t have a 10-inch cake pan.)

In the bigger pans you’ll definitely have some space left in the middle.  Just spiral some more diapers into the center until the pans are nicely filled.

I didn’t have any rubber bands quite big enough, so I cut several and tied them together.

You’ll also need a 12-inch corrugated cake round, some ribbon and a cake topper—in this case a pair of adorable pink baby shoes.  A small stuffed animal would be very cute too.

I chose two ribbons—a wide satin ribbon and a narrower one I hot-glued down the center of the wide one.  A 4-yard spool was the perfect amount of wide ribbon to wrap all my cake layers plus have enough to tie on a big bow at the end.  The 3-yard spool of narrower ribbon was plenty.

Remove each cake from its pan, wrap the ribbon around each layer (right overtop the rubber bands) and secure with hot glue.  Don’t glue the ribbon to the diapers—just to itself.  (You want the diapers to be easily usable afterward.)  Then snip apart the rubber bands and remove them.

Stack the layers on the cake round and place your cake topper.

If you know the baby’s name, it’s fun to personalize the cake too.  I hot-glued the cardstock/scrapbook paper letters onto the ribbon, covering the seams.

For a gift, wrap the cake in cellophane and tie with a bow to hold it all together for easy transport for both you and the mom.  For a shower decoration, forgo the cellophane and assemble at the shower.

This was so much fun to make, and the girls were positively giddy watching it come together, possibly in part because they are so excited about meeting this new baby GIRLGIRLGIRLGIRLGIRLGIRL in the coming weeks.

Baby Bump

Yes, I’m aware that “baby bump” is on the list of 2012 banned words, but am I truly obligated to obey a bunch of college kids when in my opinion “baby bump,” properly used, is a worthy description?

You see, I think they’re looking at this all wrong.  The “bump” in “baby bump” is not a demeaning reference to pregnancy.  It’s not merely noun.  It’s not even mostly a noun.  If you’ve ever been pregnant, you’re already well aware of this.

I mentioned this fact to my kids just the other day, after I walked past Joseph and accidentally crashed his head with my belly.

Yes, my friends, you can trust me on this . . . the “bump” in “baby bump” is a VERB—an action verb!

bump = to hit something with force

synonyms = thwack, bang, knock, strike, collide, smack, jolt, slam, and hit

Yep, that’s me, and at 21 weeks, I’ve been doing it with alarming and increasing frequency.  Whether it’s door jambs, countertops, or my children’s heads . . . I’m all about “baby bump” these days.

Linked to Hip Homeschool Hop and Raising Homemakers.