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Exuding Rainbows and Light

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My dear sweet middle child, Jamie, turns 4 years old today. He is my sensitive, intuitive, clone of his mom beautiful child. Exuding rainbows and light, he sees the world in a way I wish I could maintain every day of my existence.

He is, perfect.

I first started blogging in 2004, just a week or so before Jamie was born. I felt like I was a watched pot, waiting to boil, and so blogging instantly helped by giving me an outlet.

I wrote Jamie’s birth story the day after he was born, still on the high that new babies bring. As I read this, I laughed a lot, because my writing was so matter of fact on that day. It’s long, very detailed, and obviously my own record of the event. I didn’t want to forget a thing.

Below is his story.

Beauty, Untouched

It was eight days past the due date, I was feeling huge and beyond uncomfortable. The birth pool had been set up in my bedroom for almost two weeks and it was beginning to feel like a permanent fixture. I’d been having contractions every night the last few days that got regular, but went away when I went to bed. That Saturday night seemed no different. The contractions started, they didn’t hurt, just were a bit annoying. I asked Jacob to rub some herbal labor oil on my legs. While he did that I tried breathing deeply to get the full aromatic benefit of the oil. I told my mom and Jacob about the contractions, but made no big deal out of it since it was becoming a nightly ritual. We went to bed at midnight, but I couldn’t sleep. The contractions kept me awake, as did the wonder of “is this it?”.

By 2am, the contractions had been consistently 10 minutes apart, lasting about 30-45 sec and getting more intense to where I had to really concentrate on relaxing through them. I decided that, if this was IT, I needed to get Jacob and my mom up and have them start filling the pool. It supposedly took an hour to fill, and I was dying to be in that darn pool because the contractions had turned into the dreaded back labor I had with my first baby. Mom and Jacob both got up and began to peacefully prepare everything. My mom gathered the towels and got out the midwife’s supplies while Jacob got the hose and started filling the pool. The contractions were getting more and more intense and I needed to have my eyes closed, lay down on all fours in a fetal position and “hum” through them. More like a monk saying “huummmmmmmmm”. I felt that it was going to be a long time still because I could handle the contractions on my own. Looking back I realize that I only felt this way because my mom and Jacob kept the atmosphere totally relaxed and soothing.

Around 3am I happily got into the birth pool. It was the best feeling ever to be able to float around, relaxing through the contractions. With each one I would hold onto the side of the pool, close my eyes and sway my hips from side to side rhythmically making the Monk noises. For some reason this little routine was very relaxing because it kept me from freaking out about the fact that I was having very intense back labor. {For those of you who don’t know, with my first labor I had 43 hours of horrifically intense back labor. It traumatized me and I was afraid to go back into my bedroom, the place I had labored, not to mention afraid to have another baby.} I was getting a bit worried, because in addition to the intense back labor, the contractions were irregular. They were 4-6 minutes apart and anywhere from 30sec to 2.5min long. This was not looking good because this irregular laboring is exactly what happened before, and what made the labor take so long. I desperately did not want the same thing to happen, but more importantly I did not want to get anxious and fearful worrying about the what-if’s.

At 4am I got out of the pool to have some “down time” and see what happened with the labor when I wasn’t in the nice warm water. At this point we called my midwife, MaryLou and told her things were irregular, intense and not going away. She simply said to call whenever I wanted her to come, even if it was now. I really did not want her to come yet because I thought I had a really long road ahead of me. Sometime after this I took the secret weapon of labor remedies. It was a shot of Jagermeister and a homeopathic remedy for fear. While I labored on the bed I needed Jacob to do the “hip squeeze” because when he didn’t it felt like my hips were splitting apart.

Around 5am I got back into the pool and once again felt amazing relief. The pool made all the “regular” labor pain (the pain in front) go away so I only felt the back labor. This made things really manageable, and I quickly returned to the swaying Monk routine. It was so great being at home in our room, having the pool right there just 2 feet from our big king size bed. Why in the world do people want to labor strapped to a bed in a freezing cold hospital room? We quickly realized that the secret remedies were working because the contractions were suddenly getting closer, longer and stronger.

By 6am the contractions were 2 min apart and lasting 1-1.5 min. We realized it was getting close and that we should call the midwife (duh! She lived 45 min away! Why did we wait so long?). We also called my birth coach who was our birth class instructor for my first baby. We had become friends and she agreed to come to this labor and delivery and help me out. While Jacob was on the phone with these people I had to be holding on to my mom constantly. The contractions were SO strong now, and I couldn’t bear them by myself. I needed someone to hold on to. I commented to Jacob that it felt like I’d be pushing soon. I’m sure if I had my eyes open Jacob’s face would’ve shown a TINY bit of worry since no one was there yet that knew how to catch a baby! I remember thinking, Jacob was a catcher on his baseball team in high school, we’d be fine. Yes, I actually thought that and I was serious. It’s so funny the weird stuff we think is totally normal while we are in labor!

I was on my knees in the pool, doing the swaying Monk routine (the Monk part getting much louder and lower in sound) when people started arriving. I could feel the baby moving down and getting very low. It seemed like it wouldn’t be much longer, but I was not getting my hopes up because it had only been 2 hours since the labor got active. It was 7am. I was feeling like I would need to push soon and I started to get a little panicky because no “professional” was there yet. Just at that moment my friend the Coach arrived. I barely opened my eyes and told her I needed her. She took over the spot my mom was holding and started talking in my ear. She was so encouraging and said some really great things to help me visualize what my body was doing…all of which I totally can’t remember right now.

A short while later (maybe 5-10 min?) my midwife arrived. I was in such incredible pain and OH THE PRESSURE DOWN THERE! that I wanted her to check me immediately. I just HAD to know what my progress was! She said I was 7cm. Everyone in the room felt this was good (its the beginning of transition) but I felt like it wasn’t far enough along. After all, I felt like pushing!

Soon after, I felt my body doing some incredible things. I could feel the baby getting low, OH SO VERY LOW!, a feeling I didn’t have with my first since I had the epidural. I could feel everything inside me stretching out. The feeling is more than pain, its INTENSE. It’s such an amazing feeling, and you have absolutely no control over it. You are just an observer of your own self. I also felt my body start to push on its own at the end of each contraction. At this point the midwife came over to check me again to see if I was completely dilated already. I was, and it had only been about 20 min. From 7-10cm in 20 min! No wonder it felt like my body was ripping apart inside. All this time no one was really saying too much, I only heard my Monk noises and some whisperings in the background. I had my eyes closed for most of this, but would occasionally peek out and see them preparing this and that. I got way too distracted if I opened my eyes, so I kept them closed, squeezed the Coach’s hands as hard as possible and Monked through the contractions. I forgot to mention that, by this point, Jacob had gotten in the pool with me and was sitting behind me. I can’t remember what he was doing, but I know at some point he was touching me and I said, “don’t lean on me!” really loudly.

The next parts went very fast. Soon, I wasn’t just pushing at the end of the contractions, but through the entire thing. I wasn’t really pushing on my own, my body was doing the pushing. Its almost scary how much power is in that uterus! At some point I asked, “can I push?” and they laughed and said, “of course!”. I started pushing harder with each one, and began to lose my concentration. The pain and pressure were too much and I didn’t think I could do it. My Coach kept talking to me, asking if the pain was in front or in back. She said that if it was in front I needed to isolate that pain and push through it. I told her I didn’t know where it was (ha! I couldn’t do any higher thinking at that point like knowing where I was hurting.). My midwife came to check me and had me feel the baby’s head. It was so nice not having to get out of the pool at all to do all these head and heartbeat checks. They just did it all under the water. I felt his head “right there” and it was bumpy and hairy. I couldn’t believe it was “right there”, and it scared me a bit. The “ring of fire” kicked in at this point. I thought of saying, “the burning! oh the burning!, but then I though that would be cliché so I didn’t say it. The analyzing–even during labor!

The midwife said that the baby may be stuck on my pubic bone and if I’d lean back he could go under it (I had been on my knees leaning forward on the side of the pool the whole time). I really didn’t want to lean back because it hurt so badly, but I wanted it all to be over even more.

I leaned back into Jacob’s arms and felt the baby’s head come out (oh the burning!). The midwife reached into the water and took the cord off his neck. The next thing I knew his whole body slipped out of me and I picked him up and brought him up and out of the water and laid him on my belly. I remember thinking “wait…what the??…holy cow I just caught my own baby!” I had only pushed for 20 min, only about 2-3 pushes where I really tried. It was 8:19am.

It felt so good at that point because I was still in the warm pool and it really soothed all those aches and pains. Jamie Reed just laid peacefully on my chest as I laid back in Jacob’s arms. It was so beautiful! I felt like a superhero, like I could do anything! Jamie laid on me and cried softly, but quickly snuggled into my breast with his eyes closed tightly. The water was pretty mucked up by this point and everyone (including me!) wanted me to get out of the pool. I stood up and there were a bunch of people surrounding me. Jacob in the pool, me holding the baby with his cord still attached, the Coach, the midwife and her assistant, my mom, my pregnant sister in law, my younger sister, and I don’t know who else! They were worried about me standing up and moving to the bed on my own, but I felt great! I wasn’t even hurting (yet!). I lifted my leg to get out of the pool and heard/felt a huge splash. I hilariously stated the obvious, but something no one noticed but me, “was that my placenta?”, and everyone stopped in their tracks. The whole gang immediately had me sit back down into the water because the baby was still attached to the placenta that was now at the bottom of the pool. So, next Jacob cut the cord, and then I finally moved over to my bed. MY OWN BED, PEOPLE. Seriously, the best feeling on Earth. Hospitals don’t have king size pillow-tops, you know.

At this point they checked the baby out quickly and gave him back to me. I was thinking it was all too good. Active (i.e. NOT irregular) labor kicked in around 6am and he was born a little over 2 hours later! Jamie was doing great, I was totally with it and living in the moment (unlike the first birth when I was totally out of it mentally). I was sitting in my own bed, watching people, instead of so drugged up I couldn’t stand up. They were emptying the pool and cleaning everything up. The Coach and the midwife were sitting on the floor in my room chatting and eating bagels. Jacob was making coffee. It was just too good to be true!

My two year old, Charlie, came in at this point and wanted to know who, or better, WHAT I was holding. We introduced the two brothers and enjoyed watching Charlie kiss him and touch him. The midwife examined me and I only needed two stitches. That whole process was over quickly and before I knew it everyone was leaving and it was just Jacob, Jamie and me. There I sat, in my own home, in my own bed, soaking in the beauty of my newborn son.

Birth, the way it should be. The way I wish every woman could experience it. Untouched, undisturbed by any outsider. Just God, my husband, my baby, and me. It was so empowering and so humbling all at once. I will never forget it.

August 29, 2008 | Filed Under Family, Myself and I | 17 Comments

Nie Nie Day

It’s ironic, in a sad way, that I was writing about burns and tragedy yesterday. For, you see I just found out that today is Nie Nie Day, as declared by Design Mom, and Nie Nie Day is in honor of Stephanie of Nie Nie Dialogues. On August 16, 2008, Stephanie and her husband Christian were in a very serious private plane crash in Arizona. Christian suffered burns over 30% of his body, and Stephanie’s body is burned over 80%.

I can’t even imagine the pain and suffering, not to mention just being away from your children (and for them to be away from you) for the amount of time that these two sweet people will have to endure.

As part of Nie Nie Day, many bloggers are hosting silenct auctions to raise money for the Nielsons. Of course at Ruby & Roja we wanted to participate, so go here to bid on a Plush Design Package. Also be sure to read the post at Design Mom today, to check out all the other amazing bloggers coming together, rallying around and helping a “man down”.

May God bless them immensely with all this bloggy love.

August 28, 2008 | Filed Under Bloggy Friends, Ruby and Roja | Leave a Comment

Skin To Skin

The other night I went to bed, slid into my tiny space next to my baby and my husband, and couldn’t get to sleep. This is not necessarily something new for me, but that night was different. I put my cheek on my baby’s arm and just took in his milky, perfect skin. I caressed his head and cheek and wrist and hand and fingers. Gently, so as not to wake him (I’m not crazy!). I was overwhelmed with gratitude for him, for all my children, for all my friends and family. For this life.

I had just watched a documentary on HBO called White Light/Black Rain: The Destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. They used lengthy interviews and archival footage to tell the story of the survivors of the A-bomb that the U.S. dropped on them on August 6, 1945, to end WWII.

You can imagine, just from the title, that the movie was not a feel good flick (see an interview with the filmmaker here). Most of the movie has subtitles, because it is the actual survivors speaking japanese, telling what they experienced, talking about all they endured.

It shook me. I shake still.

So much of that whole event has been glossed over for us. We barely study it in history class in school, and we certainly don’t hear anything about that pesky death and destruction part. It seems that this documentary alone should be required viewing (for older aged teens, because it shows graphic images of the dead and wounded), just so that we can teach people the truth and consequences of our actions, no matter if those actions are necessary or not. The beginning of the movie is of the filmmakers roaming the streets, asking people what happened on August 6, 1945. No one knew the answer.

Whether we agree with our actions on that day or not, the victims should not be forgotten simply because it’s inconvenient, yucky or upsetting.

It needs to never happen again.

If you listen to any of the international news, the “nuclear” word is thrown around daily, by many countries, including our own. Don’t be fooled into thinking this issue is not a current one, because it is. Sticking our head in the sand is not a defense.

Most of the survivors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki lost all their siblings and their parents. One man said, “the only things that moved in Hiroshima were the flies over the dead”. Another said, “I realized there are two kinds of courage. The courage to die, and the courage to live. I chose the courage to live, even if I was alone.” She was 10 at the time the bomb hit.

The death toll between the two cities was over 200,000 people the day of the bomb, with over 160,000 more dying from injuries or radiation toxicity (those stats are from the documentary). Today, over 60 years later, the survivors still have severe health problems. Tumors, pain, cancer, it goes on and on and on. At the time, when they were all showing up with “atomic bomb disease”, or radiation poisoning, no one knew it existed. We hadn’t studied that part yet.

The survivors carried around a stigma, were shunned from society and treated like the radiation symptoms they exhibited were contagious. No one wanted to be by them or marry them. If they did marry and have children, their own children were also shunned.

One survivor said, “even though we survived, we couldn’t live or die like human beings”.

They were almost all children, and had no where to go. They lived on the streets, eating radiated food or animals that they could catch. Their government did nothing, our government did nothing.

So as I lay there thinking of my baby’s skin, and all the images of the children with burned and charred skin, I remembered that life is so beautiful for us. No matter the struggles, the hard days, the financial woes. My children are not orphans. They aren’t wandering the streets looking for food so they don’t starve. They aren’t enduring agonizing pain from burns allover their body.

Can you even imagine?

The status of things with our government and military, and our enemies, is very fragile right now. When it feels as though there’s nothing we moms can do, one thing we can remember is how precious our love and life is. We can teach our children the same, and hope and pray that these stories stay in history and don’t become a part of our future.

August 26, 2008 | Filed Under Randomness | 4 Comments

Going Green is Going Great

Have you checked out 5 Minutes for Going Green yet? When I’m not spending my time here posting pictures and waxing poetic, I’m wrangling fabulous a bunch green writers, and am continuously amazed at the great articles they come up with day after day. Just in the last couple weeks we’ve had:

A fresh look at cloth diapers by Jenn at The Green Parent

-Thoughts on taking care of our mind, body and spirit by Beth at Coming Up For Air

-Great tips on greening our magazines by Jennifer of The Smart Mama

-New ideas on healthy school lunches by Jennifer at Little Green Secrets

-And amazing thoughts on food allergies and helping depression with gardening by Jen at EcoChic Organizer

All this, and so much more every day at 5 Minutes for Going Green. Amazing resources, quick and easy tips, zero judgment. My kind of women.

We are looking for a couple new writers for the site, email me if you or someone you know would be a good fit (arianne[at]tothinkistocreate.com).

What are some of your favorite green or healthy or natural sites? I’d love to hear about them!

August 25, 2008 | Filed Under 5 Minutes for Going Green, Green Living, Health | 1 Comment

Allow Me If You Will

I’m so in love with my camera family, that I just have to post some pictures for you. Do you mind?

These were taken at a recent day at the Lincoln Park Zoo, which is like the best place ever. I wish I lived next door.

We all had a big family outing because this guy was in town:

He thinks he’s cool because he’s almost 21. He’ll always be the baby.

This girl is going to have to be locked in her room until she’s 25. She’s my niece-ling, and first granddaughter.

She came from these two totally average looking people:

She has a special bond with this guy, my middle child, pre-scissor attack (he put his hat on her and then they both posed).

Then we have this guy, my baby, who is not at all photogenic.

He is really good at smiling his way out of any predicament. Just like his Dad.

Then we have my oldest, who is near impossible to get smiling, especially a natural smile. He hates photos, but somehow we caught this pic of him smiling. This face doesn’t happen very often, so we swoon over it something fierce. The fact that it seems like he’s looking me in the eye, something which is also rare, gives me butterflies. I could look at this photo all day…

What a day.

August 24, 2008 | Filed Under Autism, Family | 16 Comments

A Bright And Blurry Window

I’ve been really enjoying watching the olympics lately–the exciting endings, heart breaking defeats. The Phelps effect. All so beautiful, to see what normal people can do with extraordinary skill, if they put their mind to it.

But even more moving has been to watch the footage of all the mothers of the athletes. I cry with them, as they see their child win yet another gold, and I cry with them as they hurt for their child who missed their chance and must now live with losing what coule be the most important competition of their life.

I think it all makes me emotional because I imagine my boys doing these feats of greatness, and I can almost feel what it’s like to be the mother of a child who receives such recognition. Gold medal? Silver or bronze medal? How proud I would be!

But I also know that my children will be great, no matter if they decide to be Olympians or to be a struggling artist. If they choose the path of a Starbucks barista or if they join the Peace Corps and go out to save the world. It’s that unconditional love, that we realize now more than ever, that is not always freely given by those you love. For us, it’s easy. It’s who we are.

The greatness of spirit that my boys posess means they will be touching lives no matter what their profession, or if they win competitions, awards or accolades. Changing a life just by being themselves is one of their superpowers now, so I know I can expect that greatness to continue.

As I look out the window of the future, I see a glimpse. A moment here or there of “oh he will make a great gymnast!” or “He’s definitely going to be a famous writer”, but in the end that window, although gleaming brightly, still stays blurry. And so I wait with excited anticipation to see which path they choose, knowing I’ll be there for them every step of the way.

August 20, 2008 | Filed Under Family | 15 Comments

When Scissors Attack

How silly of me to want to grow out his hair, when his brother CLEARLY had other ideas.

The funny thing is, I don’t know if he’s going to let me fix it without a major fight.

He LOVES it. His brother LOVES it (well, it’s his work, and he’s standing behind it no matter what).

At first I thought he looked like a balding accountant.

He’s still a Los Angeles boy at heart. He told me he looks like a “cool punk dude” and now he’s ready for his first day of school ever. Montessori wants them to express themselves, but I don’t think they had this in mind.

You don’t even want to see the back. Unless you feel like crying.

But yesterday, post-hair disaster, he asked another kid at the park what his name was. For the first time ever. I wanted to hold a party. Autism can suckit.

They’re getting better, friends. The light at the end of the tunnel is so, so bright now.

August 19, 2008 | Filed Under Autism, Family | 14 Comments

Used To Be

I’ve been neglecting this blog this month, but as I see the start of school looming around the corner, I feel the tiny twinge of a new season coming upon us. The weather may not change, but it will be a new season for our family. Two boys in school, newness all around. Every reason to be happy and excited and fulfilled.

So that is what I keep telling myself. Hoping at some point that it will stick. That the awfulness of this summer will stay in the past, be swept under thr rug, be a bad memory. How many times can I blog that I’m a shadow person right now? Writing here is always a reflection of me. Of where I’m at, for better or worse. But the last thing people really want to read about for very long is how “off” someone is feeling.

I used to be really good at handling stress. Used to be. I see that phrase and I long for that person. The strong person that didn’t let a super hard day where autism kicked her behind ten ways to Texas set her back for a week. Where financial stress was always “God has a plan, we’ll be fine”, instead of the daily dread I wake up to now. Where family stress didn’t phase her for a second, and feeling distant from friends was non-existent. Where new opportunities were exciting and the ideas were free flowing and nothing could stop her. That person seemed to have the confidence to live life to its fullest. Why is that person so hard to find right now?

I realize that in some ways, I will never be going “back” to that person. I need to create a new person. So I sit here and try to figure out what I want the new me, that includes all those other things, with the scars of the present, to look like. To live like.

I know that around that corner, where school and the fall and new friends and opportunities lie, my same old happy go lucky soul is waiting for me to find it and scoop it up again. Placing it back in it’s rightful place inside my heart. I just need to get there.

August 18, 2008 | Filed Under Myself and I | 12 Comments

Red Hot Mamas

As some of you may know, I’ve been working with the girls of ruby & roja design and we’ve just launched our new site. So shiny, so pretty, so red!

I adore working with such talented and amazing women, they inspire me and show me that moms can have their own business, can do it from home, and can still keep some semblance of sanity.

The best news of today is that ruby & roja is giving away a free blog redesign (Essential package–$70 value!) to one lucky reader. Go here to enter. Good luck!

August 11, 2008 | Filed Under Uncategorized | 9 Comments

Weekly Twitterings: My Favorite Tweets

Here is this week’s installment of My Favorite Tweets, and be sure to not miss the inaugural Weekly Twitterings post. I have so much fun going through and picking these, I hope you enjoy them as well. You can follow me on Twitter to catch all the action in real time.