On Foraging for truth

I've been mulling a few thoughts around for the last few weeks and needed to write them down for my own memory, but I also think many of you might need this reminder as well.

First a story. Because that it how it starts for me. Something I am doing, which is usually is connected to food in some way, growing, cooking or eating (this is a new realization for me, which just makes me smile to know that my Father speaks to me using something I love); that causes me think about something I am currently learning, worrying about, or life circumstances.

We have a community garden plot that is at a lovely little lake and trail. During the summer, we will go each morning to water and then walk around the trail. Our walk takes us to "Stumpy", Christopher's favorite tree stump. Yes. Tree stump. As we make our way to Stumpy, we pass bush after bush after bush of wild blackberries. So we started picking and eating them every time we were there. There are lots of other plants around that also had berries on them and I began to wonder if they were safe to eat as well.

So I bought a book about foraging in the PNW. I downloaded an app that will take a picture of the plant and then tell me what it is. I then research it at home to find out if it is safe to eat and what it is good for. And oh my goodness, there is so much out there. I've found Plantain which is good for bee stings and skin conditions; chickory which is used as a coffee replacement, rosehips which are high in vitamin C and used to make syrups and jellys; tansy which is good for fevers and GI issues; Oregon grape which is also good for GI issues. Ive also found Poisonberry among other harmful plants!

I've been eyeing the rosehips all summer long waiting for them to be ready to pick. Last week on our usual garden trip, I grabbed a bowl and told Christopher we were going to forage for some rosehips. They have turned red and I wanted to try to make some syrup with them. As I was picking them, I questioned myself over and over. These are the rosehips right? So I would look at the stem and the leaves. Yes, rosehips. You know those converstations you have with yourself, Yes No Yes No?! Yes, I was confident that these were actually rosehips. I spent all summer looking at them!

Because one thing Ive learned in foraging is that there are look alikes. There are counterfits. And alot of times those counterfits are poisonous. Poisonberry happens to look very similar to a rosehip. And there happened to be one about 10 feet from my rosehip bush. If you arent careful, If you dont know the details of what you are looking for, you might mistake it for something that looks and smells like the real thing. But I only learned the difference by studying the real thing! 

Ive been thinking about how Satan tempted Eve. He didnt lie to her. He just questioned what God told her. When Satan tempted Jesus in the desert, He used scripture to do it. He convinced Eve, who had no concept of sin or evil up until this point, to doubt who she already knew YHWH to be, by having her question if what she knew to be true was in fact true. Satan disguises himself as the angle of light! He crafty, knows scripture and knows how to tempt us.

We are a church full of people who don't know the truth. Or only know parts of it. We like the parts that make us feel good about ourselves. We avoid the parts that confront us with the truth of who we actually are, sinners in need of a Savior. And by not immersing ourself in the scriptures, we miss the truth of who YHWH truly is and we cant tell what is truth from what sounds like truth.

And there are so many things out there right now that are claiming to be right and true and we cant see that they are counterfits because we don't what the real thing is. And the only way to know what that is is by being in the word. Its memorizing it. Its reading it over and over. Its mediating on it. Its allowing the Holy Spirit to use the words that YHWH has ALREADY SPOKEN to us and allowing that to determine what we believe about our Creator. Because that is what is at the root of all of this. Not knowing who He truly is.

It is so easy to twist scripture to fit our agenda. And unless we know the word of God, Unless we know the heart of God, we mistake the things that sound mostly good and mostly right as the truth.

As we were on our walk today, I was thinking about all of this again and John 15 came to mind. "I am the vine, you are the branches, if you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit. Apart from me you can do nothing."  I had to look at the whole plant, leaves, stem all of it, to make sure I was picking the right thing.

There are alot of voices out there claiming to speak truth and we need discernment. “Discernment is knowing the difference between Right and almost right.”

Elsie Jeanne

I started writing out Elsie's birth story/family update when she two months old. She is now over 3 months old and I am attempting to finish. Wish me luck!

Three months.
How is that possible? Also how have I survived three months without sleeping?! So many times I have wanted to write out her birth story so I wont forget, but I just havent been able to. Mostly because of time, but also because I could almost cut and paste Christopher's story because they are so similar.
Before Elsie was born, we both wondered how Christopher would do with a new sister who required much of the attention he was used to getting. And while we all had our moments of adjusting to this new change, Christopher surprised us all with how great he did. He has been such a good big brother and loves to give Elsie kisses and hugs. I melt inside when he asks to hold her. This time around is flying by. I can't believe she is three months old. It has been hard. Much harder that I thought it would be. But seeing my two babies together is worth it. Sleep is needed. The dishes pile up. The floor is covered in toys. Going to the store with two kids is no longer fun. But both of my babies are growing up right in front of me. Most days I count down the minutes until Chet gets home for a bit of relief, but I get the joy of being home with them all day.
Christopher is speaking full sentences and is blowing us away with how smart he is. Elsie is his biggest fan and whenever he is in the room with her, he is all she looks at. Christopher has started to speak to her in grunts and she responds with the same.
And while I know all kids are different is it fun this time around to have a comparison of sorts and see things develop early on that have become part of who they are. Christopher was grabbing and holding things with his hands at about two months. And even now he is always "working" and using his hands. Elsie could care less still. Christopher wouldnt crack a smile until he was between 3-4 months old. Elsie has been throwing them out left and right for a couple months already. I cant wait to see how her personality develops. And I hope and pray that they will continue to love each other they way they do now.

And now for the real reason I am writing this:

My pregnancy was as smooth as could be. It felt much harder because I had a very active toddler to chase and carry up and down the stairs. For the first time, basically ever, I started an exercise class when I was about 20 weeks. I was desperate for a few moments to myself as well as some adult interaction. That class has turned into much more and I have no doubt it made it easier to keep up with C. I even managed to go up until the day before I went into labor.

A week before my due date, I woke up with extra strong and more frequent braxton hicks contractions. I called my mom and put her on alert as they werent scheduled to come up til the end of the week. They were my child care. Mom and Dad must have heard the panic in my voice and Dad flew up that day to be here when it was go time. Of course, she didnt make her entrance until the end of the week, but I was able to relax so much more knowing that C would be taken care of.
We went about our usual business that week, just with some extra contractions. I woke up on the 17th, my birthday, to some cramping. I told Chet it felt different. I called mom and dad and said "Maybe?" Chet went on to work but by 10am I knew they were real contractions and texted my midwife. Chet came on home, with my birthday cake, which came in handy. :)
Dad got to the house in the middle of the afternoon and the contractions were still about 8-10 minutes apart and I was able to do most things in between them. Around 6:00 pm they really started to get stronger and closer and I didnt do much else besides kneel next to the bed and sway.
By 8pm, they were really intense, around 6-7 minutes apart and I had to have Chet put pressure on my back. Midnight rolled around and still 6-7 minutes apart, but now I was starting to throw up. We were waiting until we got to about 5 minutes apart and by 1 am we still just werent getting there, but the intensity kept getting stronger and I continued to throw up. The same thing happened with Christopher so I was hopeful at least some progress was being made. I called my midwife and she said to go ahead and come on in. We got to the birthing center around 2 am and after a quick check of vitals I climbed in the tub. I really hoped I would be able to deliver her in the water, as I needed to get out with Christopher. I was in the tub for about an hour when I felt I needed to start pushing and I just couldn't get in a good position. I labored at home on the birthing ball and found that the most comfortable (as comfortable as one can be), so I asked them to bring me one and used that.
I watched a live homebirth a few weeks before and for the most part she labored and pushed in silence. How anyone can do that is beyond me. I was screaming and yelling and telling them to get this kid out of me. At one point they said, "We can see her head" and I asked, "Can you really see it or are you just telling me that to make me feel better?". They really could see her head. It was right around that time that my water finally broke and ten minutes later, after an hour of pushing, Elsie Jeanne made her debut at 3:54am on October 18th. She is a smart girl and didn't want to share her birthday with mama and held out until she got her own day.
They gave her to me and did their initial check on her until my placenta was about ready to come out. They left us to just be together for a bit. We had pretty much decided on her name, but spent that time discussing to be sure. Elsie started to nurse right away and has been a nursing champ ever since.
Our midwives came back in about 30 minutes later and had Chet cut the cord. They then took all of her measurements. She was a whopping 8 pounds 6.5 ounces and 20 inches tall with a head full of hair. A few weeks before my due date, I met with my alternate midwife and she told me I hadnt gained enough weight. If you know me, you know I dont shy away from food. So it really was stressful work to try to put on a few pounds, so when they told me her weight I had to laugh. And I made sure to add that .5 because I worked hard for that!

It was at this point that I really regretted not bringing some of my cake with me. 20 hours of contractions. 1 hour of pushing. Let me eat cake! 

It was my turn to get checked out and stitched up. They then left us alone to get some rest for a few hours. Which really meant, Chet and Elsie got to rest. As exhausted as I was, there was no sleeping for me. I was starving (still am) so they brought in a big breakfast for us.
We tried to rest for the rest of that day. Elsie continued to nurse well, which was a huge relief as I struggled early on nursing Christopher. More food was brought in. Mom and Dad brought Christopher over that afternoon and he was a bit unsure about his new sister but warmed up to her by the end of the visit.
We broke free that evening as I wanted to be home to put Christopher to bed. Those next few weeks (months) are a blur as we had little sleep and lots of visitors.

Our little Elsie Jeanne is a joy and we cant imagine life without her!

Family Update

I dont know how many times I have been in a particular situation and Ill say, “This reminds me of that FRIENDS episode where…” I remember when I was about 7-8 months pregnant with Christopher and I was having Braxton Hicks contractions and was quite uncomfortable and all I could think about was the episode where Rachel goes to the emergency room and later found out she was having Braxton Hicks and the doctors tells her its nothing to worry about, most people don't even feel them. And she replies, “No uterus, no opinion!” 

And while the majority of my Friends life references have nothing to do with pregnancy, for this episode with the Komos family, we will just go ahead and call it The One with Two Heart Beats. 

Do you remember that episode where Monica and Chandler find out that Erica, the birth mother, is actually about to deliver twins. 

Monica: Did anybody tell you?

Erica: I dont think so…although they did mention something about two heart beats. But I thought that was just mine and they baby’s. They kept saying both heart beats are really strong. And I thought, well that’s good because I’m having a baby."

Spoiler alert! We are having another baby!) Chet, Christopher and I are at our midwife appointment and it was at this appointment where we were going to hear the baby’s heartbeat for the first time. I laid down on the bed and the student midwife pulls out the doppler and starts to listen for the baby. Within a few minutes she hears a faint sound so Marilyn, my midwife, helps her get the doppler in just right place to get a clearer sound. And there they are! Clear and strong. “You can hear both heartbeats.” In a matter of seconds, along with terror and shock, that episode began playing in my mind. I start laughing, mostly nervous laughter and I say. You mean MY heartbeat right?? That is my heartbeat and the baby’s heartbeat? RIGHT? Not two babies’ heartbeats. RIGHT?? 

Oh yes, your heartbeat. There is only one baby in there. We all laugh. My heartbeat slowly returned back to normal as they comment how they never thought about how they word that before. Clearly they have never seen that episode of Friends. 

So coming October 21, Christopher will be a big brother…to just ONE sibling! 

We are approaching the half way point in this pregnancy and even saying that sounds crazy. I had hoped to write more throughout this pregnancy. Last time we were busy selling a house, moving out of state, buying a house and moving again to even think about writing. And while we arent making any drastic life changes this time around, I am busy chasing a toddler and things like sitting down with the computer just means Christopher has the opportunity to get in my purse to find my wallet and pull out all of my credit cards and hide them under the wireless router. I do have to buy groceries today so before I end up in the check out line without any way to pay, I need to go find all that he has hidden.

We cant wait to meet our new little one!

Moroccan Chicken Sheet Pan Supper

One of the many things I am loving about Danielle Walkers new Eat What You Love Book is the quick, easy, sheet pan meals. When I first looked through the book this was one that I wanted to make right away. Actually let's be honest, I wanted to make the pop tarts and chocolate donuts right away, but there have been too many sweets in the house so dinner it is! Danielle has graciously allowed us to share a recipe as a sneak peek. There is still time to pre order and get the free lunch box and instapot chapters. 

Because making diner with a 1 year old hanging out in the kitchen and on my leg makes things a bit more difficult, plus I dont want to be stuck in the kitchen making dinner when Chet gets home, I try to prep as much as I can through out the day. And if you dont want to prep through out the day, this will only take 15-20 minutes to get ready all at once.

Christopher was happily eating a snack so I took a few minutes to peel then chop the butternut squash and set on a tray for later. To save even more time buy them pre chopped.

After he went down for a nap I pulled the spices and put them in a little bowl so I can just dump it on the chicken and veggies when needed. And lets be honest here, nap time is when I should be doing all the things I can't do while Christopher is awake. Not today. Mama wanted a nap too. And by nap I mean I caught up on This is Us. 

Paper coffee cups are super entertaining, so I let C go to town and play with that while I did some chopping. I waited until Chet got home to finish up putting it all together. But doing it this way meant I never spent more than 5 minutes at a time getting this ready to go in the oven. 

The final verdict: Delicious!! We will be making this again!

I would change the way I seasoned the chicken. I apparently dont have a bowl big enough to toss the spices with the chicken and most of the seasoning ended up on the bottom of the meat and I wanted it on the skin. Instead, I would make a paste with the oil and lemon juice and just rub it on the chicken. 

I also love a crispy skin and mine didnt crisp up too much so I might pull the veggies out and put the meat back under the broiler for a few minutes. 

Make this! You can thank me later. 

Moroccan Chicken Sheet Pan Supper
1 1/2 Cups Mixed dried fruit
2 TB dried parsley
Fine sea salt
1/2 tsp  ground cumin
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp sweet paprika
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
1/4 tsp ground tumeric
1/4 tsp ground ginger
4 tb extra virgin olive oil
1 tb lemon juice
4 cloves garlic, crushed
6 chicken leg quarters (drumstick and thigh)
1 large yellow onion
1 medium butternut squash, peeled halved, seeded and cut into 2-inch cubes
freshly ground pepper
1/4 cup fresh mint leaves, for garnish
2 tb pomegranate seeds for garnish

Place the dried fruit into a bowl and add enough hot water to cover. Soak for 10 minutes to rehyrate the fruit. Drain water and cut fruites in half if they are large.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees

In a small bowl, combine the parsley, 1 tb salt, cumin, cinnamon, paprika, cayenne, tumeric, and ginger. In a large bowl, combine 2 tb of the oil, the lemon juice, 2 cloves garlic, and 2 tb of the oil, the lemon juice and 3 tb of the spice mixture. Add the chicken pieces and toss, rubbing the chicken to coat each piece well. Arrange the chicken pieces, skin side up, on one side of the large rimmed baking sheet.

Cut the onion into 1/2 to 3/4 inch wedges, leaving some of the core attached so the slices stay intact. IN the same bowl that held the chicken, toss together the butternut squash, onion, the remaining 2 cloves garlic, the remaining 2 tb oil and the remaining spice blend. Season with the salt and pepper and toss again. Arrange the vegetable mixtures in a single layer on the other side of the baking sheet.

Roast the chicken and vegetables for 20 minutes, then carefully sprinkle the rehydrated fruits around the baking sheet. Continue to roast until a thermometer inserted into the thickest part of the chicken leg registers 165 degrees and the butternut squash is tender about 25 minutes more.

Serve the chicken with the roasted vegetables and fruits. Sprinkle the mint leaves and pomegranate seeds over the top.

“Reprinted with permission from Danielle Walker’s Eat What You Love: Everyday Comfort Food You Crave by Danielle Walker, copyright © 2018. Published by Ten Speed Press, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC.”

One in a Million

Three years ago when I was in the darkest part of my flare up, I prayed for healing. I wanted the big miraculous healing. I wanted my disease gone.  I remember sitting at church and someone was sharing her story on how God healed her in that way. And I just got angry. Why not me? (hello, entitled much?) Wasn't I doing everything 'right'? (um, so what?). I still had surgery. I still had a long recovery. How dare God work beyond my understanding or not in my time or in the way I want.
And it took about a year to realize it, but my prayers were answered and healing came, just in a different way.
I believe God put it on my mind to find a different way to begin healing, outside of medicine. Medicine has its time and place but it currently wasn't working for me. Knowing He created our bodies and He created food to give our bodies what they need, has led me on an exciting journey the last few years and has brought more than just a physical healing.

Fast forward two years to this March, my new GI ordered a colonoscopy because he wanted to get a baseline for how active (or not active) my disease was, plus it had been 2.5 years since my surgery and it would be a good idea to make sure everything had healed correctly.
After the procedure he let me know that he found NO inflammation but there was a significant scar tissue. He had even used a pediatric scope and couldn't get it through the scar tissue. He wanted to follow up with a abdominal CT scan to see how extensive it was. That scan confirmed what he saw. I was at risk of having a bowel obstruction and potentially a perforation, which would end in emergency surgery. His recommendation was to have a colonoscopy with endoscopic dilation. There would be a balloon at the end of the scope and he would inflate it to open up the scar tissue. I was told this procedure carried the risk of the very things I was trying to prevent by having it in the first place.

I put it off for several months because I am still nursing Christopher and wanted him to be a bit older and there were more risks with this procedure. Since having Christopher, I've become more fearful in many ways. Plus Ive watched way too much Grey's Anatomy. So I had quite a bit of anxiety about this.

A few days before the procedure I was sitting at my favorite coffee shop alone (the first time since C was born) and started journaling about my fears for the upcoming week. There was no getting out of it, but I prayed that there wouldn't be any scar tissue, so no need for the balloon and added risks. That became my prayer each day.

Fast forward past the prep, the waiting to be wheeled back to the OR; past the confused anesthesiologist and the nurse who couldn't find a good vein to insert my IV.
After it was over, my doctor came to talk to Chet and I. He seemed both pleasantly surprised and also a bit confused.
He told us that once he got in there, he still didn't see any scar tissue and he could not find any significant amount of scar tissue. Insert huge grin on my face. I said, "I knew it. I prayed that there wouldn't be any scar tissue. I knew it."

Side Story:

I remember hearing a sermon on the passage in Acts where Peter is in prison. The church is praying for him to be released, earthquake happens, Peter escapes and shows up at the door of those praying for him. When they are told Peter is at the door they say "you are out of your mind". The part of the message that has always stuck with me is, isn't that exactly what they were praying for? Why are they surprised? Do we believe that God hears us and answers us?
I realized I often feel the need to make excuses for God when he doesnt answer my prayers. Who do I think He is and who do I think I am, that I need to make excuses for God? "If its your will" is my way to deal with my own unbelief.
The topic of prayer and healing I am sure stirs up a lot of feelings, thoughts and questions for some. But I have chosen to believe that God sees me, he hears me and he responds. And I wont be surprised when He shows up. And he will show up, it just may not always be the way I want. I just have to have the eyes to see it.

Back to the main story:

He explained that the bowels can move and twist and it may have appeared like scar tissue. I think he "forgot" that he actually saw it and the scan just confirmed what he saw.
He went on to say that typically someone with a disease as severe as mine was, this just doesn't really
 happen. Medicine is always needed. "But out of a million people I guess there has to be someone who doesn't have the disease return".

The smile never left my face. He said as long as nothing changes, I wont need another test for a few years. Of course he said to call him if symptoms begin to return. I, however, don't expect to do that any time soon!

Last week, the unexplainable happened. That which multiple tests confirmed was there, was no longer there. And really, its not unexplainable at all. I know exactly what happened.

Nothing and Everything

9 months. 

It’s one of those milestone moments for me. Like first tooth. First time sitting up. First time figuring out how to unroll the toilet paper (yep, that happened today). 

9 months ago I gave birth to my little boy. He has now been carried in my arms longer than in my womb. Actually, that will be true in 8 days. As he was 8 very long days late.

In the 9 months I was pregnant with Christopher, we decided to move to Oregon. Chet found a new job. We sold our house. Moved to Oregon. Bought a house (moved again). I lost a job. All the while growing this human. 

In the 9 months since I gave birth to Christopher, Ive changed countless diapers, nursed him countless times, made funny noises, danced like a lunatic and ate lots of baby toes. I kept a human alive and fed and clothed and clean and happy. That’s it!

“Our culture doesn't have a good way to measure what you are accomplishing.Your baby will grow and meet milestones: check.

To the untrained eye, most of this work, at the end of the day, will look like nothing.

But we know better.

There is no greater task than the “nothing" you did yesterday, the “nothing" you are doing today and the “nothing" you will do tomorrow.

Caring for a baby is all about the immediate experience, yet the first two years are all about investment.

It's give, give, give and give some more.

These are hard-fought, rough-and-tumble years that can cut us down to our core and take us soaring high above the clouds, all in the space of five minutes.

And yes, as you do the hardest work of your life, it will seem like you're not getting anything done at all.”

Happy 9 months my boy. I love you to the moon and back. 

https://www.mother.ly/life/what-do-new-mothers-do-all-day

Christopher Everett

One month ago (yesterday)..., Christopher was placed in my arms for the first time.

I’ve wanted to write out Christopher’s birth story for, well, a month now, but a crying baby and the need to really process that event has prevented me from doing so.

The weeks leading up to his birth, I thought a lot about the birth of Christ and what it must have been like for Mary. 

Was she already having contractions while riding in on the donkey? What must it have been like to know know where you would give birth, only to find out it would be next to a bunch of animals and their poop. No birthing tub full of warm water, no yoga ball, no soft bed. I imagine it wasn't a silent night— not as she moaned and screamed along with the noise the animals were making along side her. All was not calm in my mind. 

But there she still was, birthing the Savior of the world in the most unexpected of places. 

This, being a mother, having Christopher, is something Ive longed and prayed for, for so long. 

This child, my son, is an answer to so many prayers. 

This experience of growing a child in my womb and birthing him was a miracle when you think about the fact that I really did nothing. I didn't tell my body how to nourish him or how to grow an arm or a brain. God designed my body to just do that. I didn't tell my body to start the contractions. Good thing too, because I am sure I would have told them to stop and not start again! And while I did push, it was because my body was telling me you must push now. God knew what he was doing when he created my body and it really is quite amazing as I think about it all.

And on the flip side, I think Satan knows exactly what he is doing as well. The guilt and fear and lies have been and are in full force. I think he knows that exhausted mothers are easy prey. And it has taken me four weeks to get past the shame I felt (and to a degree still feel) that my birth experience didn't go how I wanted (when does anything go how we want?!), because I didn't feel like I was a strong as I wanted to be. I didn't handle the pain as well as I wanted to. But I am now telling those voices and thoughts to shut it. I had a natural, unmedicated birth, after 30 hours of back labor and I am proud of that. 

My due date was November 9. At the beginning of the year when I realized that the 9th was the day  last year, the doctor told us we were loosing our baby, it felt like a promise from God that he is bringing healing out that moment. Knowing the chance of delivering on my actual due date was slim, I still kept hoping he would come that day. But with each day that passes, I got more and more and anxious. Then November 14th came—the day we actually miscarried—there was still no sign of Christopher. The physical and emotional pain of that day last year played over in my head and continued to play into the days that followed.  

I read this the day after he was born online and it felt so fitting. “ It comes in waves. The disbelief and wonder that she is here and we made it. The sadness and grief. The joy and peace. I don't run way from them any more, I let these waves come. This is nourishing for me, healing.

Last year, right around the time of her birth, I was miscarrying…again. There’s a weird conflict knowing that if I hadn't miscarried then, she wouldn’t, our rainbow baby, wouldn't be.

There is an odd comfort in that. A bittersweetness that cant be avoided. And that nourishes my heart a little. A heart that holds both the bitter and the sweet.”

Even though I was still well in the ‘normal’ range, fear took over and I worried he would never come and would need a medical intervention. I tried everything—special tea, walking, taking stairs two at a time, spicy food, and I even went and tried accupuncture. Still nothing.

Birth Story begins here—stop reading if you don't want to hear about placentas, mucous plugs and the like.  Plus its long…30 hours worth of a labor story!

My contractions began about 7pm on November 15th. Chet and I were sitting on the couch watching one of our shows when the first contraction came. I pulled out my phone and opened the app I had downloaded to count them. I didn't even tell Chet until I had had a few, for fear that it would be a false alarm. It wasn’t.  

We went up to bed, knowing that once we told our midwife, she would tell us to get some rest. I sent her a text about 9pm when my contractions were consistantly about 10 minutes apart and sure enough, rest was what she said. 

The contractions continued to increase in frequency and intensity. I soon realized I was having all back labor, so laying down was no longer an option as that just made them hurt more. Chet tried to get some sleep and I took a bath. I sent our midwife another text about 1am letting her know we were now about 5 minutes apart. I could no longer stand during each contraction and I would just pound on the bed until Chet came over to put counter pressure on my back. We thought we would be heading into the birthing center that night. We were waiting for that magic 4 minutes apart that would let us know it was time to go we were almost there. 

However, the contractions became 6 minutes apart, then 10, then 15. Exhausted, because I never got more than a 15 minute break, and because the pain was in one spot on my back, we realized we wouldn't be having a baby that night. 

The rest of the night and more of the next day was the same, erratic contractions. I called my midwife around noon, in tears, because I thought labor had stopped. I was still having minute long, strong contractions, to the point where I would vomit almost each time. Again, she said, rest, and to eat a meal. To which I laughed, then cried at the rest part, then immediately threw up what I ate. 

Around mid to late afternoon, they started to become more consistent again. Hovering around the 5-6 minute mark. I sat on the yoga ball, crying and moaning while Chet put pressure on my back. Our midwife checked in about every hour at that point and each time I prayed she would say come on in. Around 8pm, she called again, I made Chet answer the phone because I couldn't talk and she gave the go ahead. We grabbed our bags and trash can and jumped in the car.

It was raining and cold and the 30 second walk from the car to the front door was a bit much as I stood there shivering uncontrollably. Marilyn, our midwife, immediately turned on the shower and had me get into to warm up. After several minutes my body finally began to settle down a bit and she was able to do her initial vitals check on me and the baby. Laying down was next to impossible for those few minutes as the contractions were so strong and I kept vomiting. So as soon as she was done, I climbed in the giant tub. The warm water felt good as I still had the chills. She suggested that I have some IV fluids as she could tell I was quite dehydrated. Two bags later and I felt much better…as better as one can when in labor. I continued to labor in the tub for a while and I finally lost the mucous plug. I was amused at how excited everyone, including me, was. 

Once the fluids finished, I was visibly feeling better, so she said she would go ahead and do an exam and see how dilated I was. When she told me I was about 8.5 centimeters I started crying. I feared she would tell me I was only 3 cm. I was already so exhausted, having not slept at all the night before and we were already half way through this night where I knew I wouldn't be sleeping. I was so relived so much progress had already been made. I would dose off in the few minutes between contractions and I remember freaking out and telling Chet I thought I stopped breathing each time I did that. And each time he assured me I was still breathing. It was at this point that I told Chet we wouldn't be having any more children.

I wouldn't have been able to do anything without Chet. Beside the fact that he was constantly holding me, letting me dig my nails into his arms, telling me I could do is and encouraging me, he was quite literally reminding me to breath. 

With each contraction I yelled. Then the yelling turned into screaming. All I kept saying its a good thing we were the only ones there. I was still in the tub in the middle of a contraction and I yelled my water just broke.

Time became a blur and even when I would ask the time, they wouldn't tell me. It’s probably a good thing they didn’t! Soon it felt like I needed to begin pushing. I tried for a while in the tub, but the positioning just didn't work for me, so they had me move to the toilet. Yes, the toilet because your body has been training to push when you sit down!

Chet continued to press on my back as I had each contraction. And with each contraction I would push. They assured me I was making progress as I felt like nothing was happening. After pushing for a while on the toilet, they could tell I needed to change positions again and moved me to the bed where I held onto a yoga ball and continued to push. Over and over I continued to say I cant do this any more. And all I wanted was to just stop and go home. Turns out they wouldn't let me go home as they could now see his head. 

After what seemed like an eternity of pushing, pain like I have never experienced (and I have had more than my fair share of pain over the years) and the ring of fire that seemed to last for days, Christopher Everett was born at 2:19 am on November 17th. 

The first few seconds I just laid on the yoga ball, crying, gasping for air and trying to talk, saying “I cant talk, my voice is gone”. I finally rolled over and they handed me our 7 lb 14 oz son. 

Relief was all I felt for a while. The pain was gone...mostly, the pushing was done, and our son was here, safe and sound. After doing the initial check, to make sure he was ok, they left us alone for a few minutes. So there we laid, me covered in sweat, Chet supporting me from behind, and Christopher, still attached to his umbilical cord. Our new little family. Overwhelmed with gratitude and 'oh my gosh we have to take care of this human'. 

Our midwives came back in and my placenta was now ready to come out. They bagged it up, still attached to Christopher, and waited until it stopped pulsing to cut the cord. They checked me out and saw I needed some stitches. After they took care of me, they gave Chet the scissors and he cut the cord.

They asked if we wanted to see the placenta and of course I did (I did decline having them encapsulate it for me, don't worry!). So we watched as they checked it out and made sure everything looked good. They showed me this thing that kept my son alive for 9 months. This amazing thing that nourished, protected, and kept him safe. 

We were left to rest for the rest of the night. And even after being up for close to 48 hrs now, I couldn't sleep. Chet on the other hand has the gift of falling asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow. So there we laid, Chet and Christopher asleep in my arms as I tried to begin to process through all that just happened. 

A post partum midwife came in and helped with nursing and also brought us some breakfast. We eventually showered then crawled back into bed before we could go home around 7 that night.

We were at one of our follow up appointments this last week and they went through the notes they took. They mentioned how quickly my labor went. I laughed and said if 30 hours is quick I dont know want to know what is considered long.

Apparently the first 22 hours wasn't considered “active” labor, but prodomal labor. I don’t care what she says, I was actively laboring those 22 hours. And what felt like the longest part, pushing, was in reality only an hour. 

One month in we are exhausted. That month has had its fair share of rough moments. We both have spent much time in tears. He slept for 4 hours straight last night and I am excited! This whole parenting gig is so much harder than I ever imagined, but its worth it. I am torn between wanting to get past this sleepless night stage and soaking in every moment I get to rock him to sleep.

We're Moving!

A year ago, we were walking Mozie at the park and talking about what the next season looked like. We wanted to start a family and knew our current place, while we loved all 640 square feet of it, wouldn't work for much longer. We quickly realized that anything bigger than 640 square feet, that was also located in our town, wouldn't work as we felt it was important that I stay home and not work when our kids are little. Early on, we both agreed that moving out of California wasn't a desire we had and never considered that option...until we went for that walk.

Chet threw out Oregon. And while we both had only visited there once several months before, it didn't sound like a crazy idea. So we intentionally visited several times over the last year to see if we really could see ourselves living there. Last fall we found out we were having a baby, so we made the decision to stay until after the baby was born then try to move. After we lost the baby, we decided to go ahead with our plan. Chet needed to stay at his current job through the middle of March, so that became our target date for job searching. A few weeks before that date, we found out we were expecting another baby. 

The job search felt long and slow going. There was no movement and we wondered if we were making the right choice. We even opened up the job search to local ones, knowing something would still have to give down the road. And then all at once, 3 different companies reached out and moved Chet through the process quickly. One was in Portland, One was in Orange County and one had openings in both Orange County and Portland. Within a couple of weeks, Chet had 2 great offers for both Portland positions and the Orange County one said they weren't ready to move forward yet. 

Chet accepted an offer, in which they gave him every thing he asked for. 

After Chet received both offers and we were fairly certain we would be moving to Portland, I went and talked to my boss. Knowing that meant there would now be three out of our six staff members leaving withing a month of each other, I felt the need to give him a heads up. I went in asking if I could work remotely until November when the baby was born. I would be able to help with all of the transitions in our office still, but I would still have a job (who wants to hire someone who is 6 months pregnant?!). He readily agreed and even threw out the option of working part time remotely after the baby was born, which is something I didn't even ask for originally.  Everything was quickly approved through my HQ office even in the midst of budget cuts and position eliminations.  

Chet planned to flight up to find an apartment. I wasn't able to join because I was assigned to a case a juror that was to last for 3 weeks. However, they postponed the case after 4 days, so I booked a last minute flight so I could fly up with Chet.

Short term leases are hard to come by, but we found a place we liked and signed up for 4 months. We met with a realtor to happens to have connections to Porterville. And we found a birthing center we liked and will have our baby there. 

We met with another realtor to sell our condo in Fullerton. We had about 24hrs. to pack up half of our stuff to be ready for the photographer to come the next day for pictures to list it. 

It's been a long process to get here and a whirlwind the last few weeks. 

But each step of the way we have been shown God's faithfulness and kindness in answering prayers and giving us things we haven't even asked for yet. From Chet's new boss giving him a salary that would provide for our family, to his current boss not wanting him leave. To my job allowing me to work remotely with the possibility to continuing after the baby is born, to no lapse in insurance coverage even though I will be part time(huge answer to prayer). To finding a short term apartment lease that even has a dog park for Mozie! (its the little things) To a postponed jury case and to listing our condo for more than we ever anticipated because of this crazy housing market, and to hopefully selling it quickly (the last two sold within a week so we are feeling good about this.)

So Chet will move up there the middle of July to start working on the 17th and I will follow at the end of the month with a truck full of our stuff (who wants to help us pack up the truck?!) Lots of changes all at once, but we are so excited for the possibilities that are a head for our family. 

Redemption

I was a taking a yoga class several weeks ago and the instructor read Isaiah 43 over us before we began the class. As she read it the words "I am doing a new thing" stood out to me with a picture of a branch with new leaves starting to grow.  Chet and I are in the midst of some big  transitions and these versed just seemed to fit. I've thought about those words several times over the weeks. We have talked about wanting a fresh start. The last two years have been so wonderful, but they have also been really hard as we walked through my disease, surgery, recovery, and the loss of a baby. 
A new thing. It sounded refreshing. It's what we were longing for. 

SPOILER ALERT: We excited to share that we are having a baby due November 9th!

This time around was a bit different. As my husband would say, we are no longer blissfully blind, but cautiously optimistic. The pain of loosing our first baby is still very real and made itself very known during the early weeks of this pregnancy. 

The morning, afternoon and evening sickness has felt a bit too much like the start of another flare up and the fear of ending up back in the hospital has been a little too strong. 

But other day I was compelled to looked at a calendar and find the date we were found out we were loosing our baby. I knew it was around the time we were due. There is was, November 9th. 

Call it a coincidence if you want, or call it God redeeming yet another dark and painful season. 'He is making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland'. Instead of dwelling on the pain and loss we felt that day , our Redeemer, The Holy One of Israel is saying, "See, I am doing a new thing!..." 

Unexpected.

We decorated our tree. 

We put out a few of the Christmas decorations (some decorations are not Mozie proof). 

I read my advent study and lit two of the advent candles (Note: Advent candles are not Mozie proof)

We watched Elf. 

I think I tried to will the joy this season. As we were singing one of the traditional Christmas songs on Christmas eve about how wonderful and joyful this day is it really rubbed me the wrong way. I tuned out the songs and thought about how that night 2000 years ago must have been anything but calm and joyful and peaceful. I can imagine it was messy. Dirty. Loud. Painful. Not what they expected. That felt more real to me than Silent Nights and O Little Town of Bethlehem.

My cute willow tree nativity set gives a picture of calm, soft and pretty. But I imagine Mary cringing a bit as she lay on top of a pile of hay, animal poop a few feet away, a donkey hovering over her as she tries to breathe through the pain of labor. I imagine she was scared. 

I think about the words his angles spoke to Mary and the others he appeared, “Do not be afraid”.  Their presence alone must have been fearful but I also think the message would also incite some fear. But that is how God chose to enter in to this world. He chose to enter the mess. He chose to enter the pain. He chose to enter the fear.

We (I) am in a season that is not going as we planned. It is still a bit painful. But God has entered into that. He has given us peace in the midst of it. And He knew we needed peace more than joy. And I am finding comfort in the fact that Hope and Joy came in an unexpected way.

Grief. Thankfulness. Hope.

We found out we were going to have a baby on October 16^th. I was instantly filled with what seemed like every emotion possible. I was excited. Being a mom has been my heart’s desire for as long as I can remember. I was scared. I have no clue how to raise a child. We both let the news sink as I cried a few tears of both joy and fear.

I called the doctor and set up some appointments. They scheduled me for an ultrasound a few weeks out.The pregnancy symptoms started showing up. It didn’t matter how tired or sick I felt because we were having a baby. It was worth it.

We were sitting at church a week or so later and a woman sitting next to me told me she felt the Lord tell her something for me. “It’s going to be ok”. She said she didn’t know what it was for, but God impressed it on her to tell me.We chatted for a few minutes and then we went home. Chet and I had been discussing some big decisions lately so maybe it was about that. Or maybe it was about the baby. Or maybe it was about how the decisions would be affected by a baby. I didn’t know what exactly it meant, but felt a sense of peace knowing that God sees me.

A few weeks pass. We went in for the first ultrasound. She gave a disclaimer at the beginning that it was early so it’s possible we might not see anything. She moved the screen away from us and began taking a few pictures. The room was silent. The technician walked us over to the doctors office where she ordered blood work and another ultrasound the following week. We still weren’t told anything. I tried not to think the worst but it was impossible. Chet tried to reassure me that we haven’t been given any reason to worry yet.

So we picked out the gifts we were going to give to our parents to tell them they were going to be grandparents. We went to a baby store to look at a few things we wanted to put on our Christmas list.

I was feeling more comfortable with the decisions we had to make. We were making plans and getting more and more excited.

We went in the following week for the follow up ultrasound. As I drove to the doctor’s office I had a pit in my stomach. I had tears in my eyes even before we went back.

You are good. You are still good. 
Its going to be ok. 

It was the same routine. Silence. We were quietly walked back to the doctors office. This time she met with us and told us what I already knew. We were losing the baby. She confirmed that our little one had stopped growing. She told me my options, then let us be. 

We went home and cried. We grieved the loss of life. We grieved the loss of the future we had been planning. We stayed home from work the next two days and just held each other.

We chose to miscarry the baby naturally instead of surgery or medication. I think we both needed it to be that way. Prayers were answered when it happened a few days later at home. 

Its going to be ok.

I wonder if the day that woman told me "Its going to be ok" was the day our baby stopped growing. I'll never know, but I am choosing to believe that God spoke to me at that moment for a reason. 

As I sat on my couch on Sunday morning, eating the last of the thanksgiving apple pie, my new advent study next to me, I was filled with a weird mix of emotions. Grief. Thankfulness. Hope.Grieving our loss. Thankful He sees and knows my pain. Thankful we had the time and space to grieve. Hope that not only will we have a baby one day, but hope that He is making all thing right. Hope that there will one day be no more grief.

Our hearts have been forever changed. It still stings and will continue to do so, but we are looking forward to holding our baby one day. And until then, I'm giving myself space to still cry and reminding myself of the words He has been whispering to me all along. It's going to be ok. 

Beauty Counter

Why I chose Beauty Counter:: Because I want to share what have learned through my own health experiences! Health and Beauty go hand in hand. So I have chosen to partner with Beauty Counter. This isn’t just about selling products, but about getting safer products in your hands.

After being having surgery for an autoimmune disease last year and not getting better with medication, I began researching other ways to heal my body. I began to learn about the power of food and started to eliminate foods that cause me harm and began filling my plates with foods that would nourish and help heal my body. As I began to carefully watch what I put IN my body, I began to do the same for what I put ON my body.

I began researching and trying a variety of “natural” and “clean” products from shampoo to facewash to foundation. Most products I found didn’t get the job done or left my hair and skin feeling dry or just didn’t smell good, which in my opinion is quite important. I even tried to make my own facewash and lotion at one point.

Then I found Beauty Counter. I honestly was a bit skeptical, so I asked my friend for a few samples. I was sold. I loved the way the products made my skin feel. My hair felt so soft. And it smells amazing! The ingredient list was one I felt good about putting on my skin.

And to top it off, I love their mission. Their goal is to get safer products into the hands of everyone.

“Decades of studies indicate that serious health issues (including but not limited to asthma, cancer, and infertility) are on the rise and are due in some part to our ongoing exposure to toxic chemicals—whether it’s in the shower, on our commute, while we eat lunch at a local restaurant, or when we clean our kitchens at home. There are more than 80,000 chemicals on the market today. Many don’t have any safety data. This is particularly true of those used in the skin care and beauty industry. What’s worse is that the Food and Drug Administration (the agency that regulates cosmetics in the United States) allows companies to use chemicals known to be extremely harmful in the products we put on our bodies and on our kids’ bodies every single day, day after day, and to make their own judgments about safety. The United States has not passed a major federal law to regulate the safety of ingredients used in personal care products since 1938.Over the past two decades, the European Union has banned more than 1,300 chemicals in the product formulas of personal care products and restricted the levels of over 250 more in such products. The United States has only partially banned 11 to date.”

I’d love to share more of my story with you. Interested? Let’s talk!

One year later

These two pictures represent so many things to me. 

The first picture was taken one year ago today.

I just had surgery removing a significant amount of my large intestine. Please ignore the steroid induced chipmonk cheeks...it made smiling difficult. 

The five months prior to this day I was on medication after medication, none of which worked and led to even worse side affects. I was fed up and knew there had to be a better way to heal my body. 

I began researching and came across Danielle Walker and Against All Grain. She shares her story of a similar autoimmune disease and how she used food as medicine. 

Recovery was slow and long initially. I became very aware of how every little movement involved using my core (which also made me wonder why I didn't have stronger abs to begin with!), and I tried to move as little as possible. I needed to nap every time I got up. I became very thankful our condo was so small.

I was often discouraged with my progress. It wasn't just a healing incision. But it was healing 6 months of a flare and infection and now missing parts. It was healing my heart and mind. But soon I reached the six month mark (I was told it takes about 12 months to fully heal from intestinal surgery) and I remember calling my mom after coming home from a 2 mile walk to the park with my dog. I ran maybe a 1/4 of a mile home. And while that may not seem like much to you, this sick body couldn't even walk 1/4 of a mile a few months ago, let alone run it after a 2 mile walk.

It was at that moment I became proud of how well I was doing. I began to give myself/my body grace. And now here I am, 12 months later, still working on healing my body, mind and heart, but we are doing much better! My body doesn't function the same way anymore, and there are some days it is sure to let me know it and I manage to forget the grace.

Celebrating being well enough to go out and celebrate both of our birthdays. Chipmunk cheeks slowly going back to normal. 

During this whole process I began changing my diet. I cut out foods that caused my body inflammation and added in lots of nutrient dense foods. I was constantly flipping through Danielle's cookbooks. This process of healing my body naturally reignited a passion for cooking and excitement to learn about new ingredients and how God designed our bodies to work. And it started a new passion about natural healing. It gave me joy in the midst of pain.

That second picture was taken last week when I was able to meet Danielle at her book signing for her new book Celebrations. I had the privilege of being on her launch team and cooking my way thru it before it came out to the public. I was able to share with her what her story and books meant to me during one of the most difficult points of my life. 

So today, instead of remembering the pain of that season, I am going to Celebrate health and healing (and the incredible food I have made from Celebrations Cookbook!) Plus, I just found out that I won the Against All Grain giveway!!

I called Chet to tell him about it and  I said it was fitting that today was the day I won the knife (as it was her story that changed everything). Chet assumed I meant that it was because I "went under the knife" a year ago today. 

Either way, I am grateful for health and for grace.