Books

I'm sorry that I haven't posted anything since lent ended on Sunday! Our Mac computer is in the shop, so I am unable to post any pictures, and seriously, what fun is a blog post without pictures?

But I guess I do have something I could share with you: my current reads.

I really enjoyed doing lots of reading over lent! I used to read a lot, but lately haven't seemed to have the time. But that is going to change, because I have rekindled that love. Plus, I find that when I am online I get really grouchy with the kids, but if I'm reading, I can still be pleasant. It's easier to set a book down than walk away from the computer, for some reason, when the kids need me.

If I had more time I would link all of these, but I don't. Sorry. If you are interested in these books, you will just have to search for them on Amazon or something. Or look for them at your local library (where I got most of these). It will be worth the effort.

So, here are the books I have read:

Discipline Without Distress by Judy Arnall (very good!)

Pregnancy, Childbirth and the Newborn by Penny Simkin (large book, but excellent and I would recommend this for all first-time expectant parents)

Instinctive Birth by Val Clark (very good)

PeeWee Pilates by Holly Jean Cosner (really really good, Pilates exercises for mom & baby)

Endometriosis for Dummies by Joseph W. Krotec (informative, interesting as far as a book about endo can be...)

Sex + Money: A Global Search for Human Worth by A Voice for the Voiceless, PhotogenX - Kona (YWAM) (very well done, my only issue is how they blame free enterprise for the proliferation of sex trafficking, while I personally believe it has a lot more to do with government corruption and prohibition, but that's a whole other blog post. Overall it's an excellent expository book)

In the Womb by Peter Tallack (very awesome visual and descriptive journey through pregnancy)

Labor of Love: A Midwife's Memoir by Cara Muhlhahn (EXCELLENT! My favourite book of them all. It's 256 pages, and I finished it in less than 48 hours, I couldn't put it down!!!)

I am currently reading: Your Best Birth by Ricki Lake and Abby Epstein (good so far!)

I also read 2 Today's Parent magazines, 2 Birthing magazines, 1 Mothering magazine, and my Bible (although not all of it, unfortunately).

There is a pile on my book shelf I have yet to read, including:

The Doula Book by Marshall Klaus

The Birth Partner by Penny Simkin

Dr. Jack Newman's Guide to Breastfeeding by Jack Newman

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller

It Sucked and then I Cried: How I Had a Baby, a Breakdown, and a Much Needed Margarita by Heather B. Armstrong

So, that's what I have been up to! I wonder if I will ever get sick of reading about birth?

Excuses

I had an interesting conversation with a dear friend online this week. It started out being about breastfeeding (how so many women don't despite all of the evidence that it is best for babies), and then became more of an observation about our culture in general. We talked about how self-centered we are, infatuated with comfort and convenience, and so quick to give up when things get tough. Our society teaches us not to judge, and encourages everyone to do "what's right for them". In a lot of aspects, this is a good thing. But what about in cases where there is a clear "right" thing to do? One of the phrases my friend used, which she was told by a counselor, was "The right thing to do is the right thing to do, ya know?" This really made me think.

Now, I am a fairly shy person, and have always had problems standing up for myself or for what is right (at least in person, it's easier in writing). I really don't want to offend anyone or have them upset at me. But is this attitude really helping anyone? Would I, and those around me, be better off if I had the guts to confront people about serious issues? If more parents felt pressure to do the right thing, would that be so bad? Most people automatically get so defensive when confronted about parenting issues, instead of thinking about what the actual consequences of their actions might be. Why do we always feel such an incredible amount of guilt? Maybe sometimes people just genuinely want to help, even if they are, in fact, judging. Does that have to be such a horrible thing? My friend also said "Women already feel guilty about things like breastfeeding. They just need to know that it's ok to actually fix the problem. To go ahead and be mothers to their children. I know I needed that push." It's ok to try and be something better, to try and do the right thing when you are confronted with it. Accepting encouragement and making changes is a positive thing. Sometimes we need to lay down our pride for the sake of our kids.

I had a really hard time with breastfeeding when Judith was a baby (you can read My Breastfeeding Story via the link on the left column of my blog), but everyone around me pushed me to persevere. I hated it. I felt judged and inadequate, and I wished someone would tell me it's ok to give up and give her a bottle. But I was blessed enough to continuously be told that breastfeeding was best, and that was my only option. It was so hard at the time, and I didn't think I could do it. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. But I did it. And it made me a better mother, not just because I was feeding my baby the best food possible, but because that experience taught me that I could do ANYTHING. That it was ok to endure pain and suffer for a good cause. That my kids are worth it all. That parenting is hard work, and I can't pawn it off on anyone else. I wouldn't have learned those lessons by giving up.

I know I've probably offended someone by now. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. I really don't want anyone to feel guilty or bad about themselves or past decisions, there's nothing anyone can do about that. Everyone has their own individual story, reasons for their decisions, and experiences. All we have is right now, and we can choose to make changes right now, and for the future. If you're offended, I'd encourage you to take a moment and think about why you feel that way. But that's not where I'm going with this.

The conversation I had with my friend made me think about myself. How often do I make excuses? There are so many things that I should do, that I just don't. I have my list of excuses; I'm too tired, I don't feel up to it, I had a rough day, my feelings are hurt, I'm afraid, I don't know how, etc. I know and accept that my feelings are real and valid, but should they be allowed to derail my life? My grandmothers didn't have that option. But my generation seems to constantly grope for reasons to be lazy. I'm not saying I should kill myself in order to keep an immaculate house, but I probably could do better. And hey, if I did better, I might even feel better.

Tonight (Monday night) was very rough. Dave was out and I put the kids to bed myself. It took about 3 hours to tidy up the house, give the kids a bath, get them dressed, teeth brushed, books read, all the while trying to nurse, burp, or console Ruthie (she was NOT in a good mood). At any given moment there was at least 1, if not 3, children screaming and/or crying. Most of the time I was crying too, but I didn't have a choice, I had to persevere, keep pushing to get things done, and try to keep it all together. I was so frustrated and exhausted. But right now, now that it's all done, I'm glad I did it and feel much better. I was really tempted to skip tidying the house, but now that it's tidy I have a great sense of satisfaction. I would have felt like crap waking up tomorrow to the mess. I'm glad I didn't give in to the excuses to quit that were running through my head.

In the past I have struggled with depression, and I know back then I wouldn't have been able to push through and get everything done like I did tonight. But even if I were to become depressed again, I don't think that would give me the right to wallow in it. My kids deserve better than that. Having been through that already, I know that there is help out there, and it would be up to me to get it. I would have to talk to my doctor (naturopath) about it, and seek counseling, even if I didn't want to. It's hard to find the initiative to get help when you're depressed, but you can do it.

I really want to work on my discipline. It's severely lacking in my life. I could use the excuse that I have 3 kids, and yes, my house will never be perfect because of this, but I bet I could do better. I want to organize my time and my life better, I'm sure that would help me be less stressed, and allow me the freedom to be more present in each moment, and have more focus on the task at hand. There are some moms I know that get SO much accomplished in a day, without losing their minds, and I want to be like that. I want to give more to my husband, my kids, my house, and myself. I don't want my feelings and circumstances to own me.

Anyways, it's late, and my brain doesn't have much juice left (there I go making excuses again!), but I hope this makes sense. I just want to start holding myself to higher standards. I don't want to motivate myself with guilt, I've had enough of that in my life, but rather with the possibility of something better. I'm tired of these lame excuses holding me back.

Published!

I contributed my breastfeeding story (my experience with Judith) to this book, and now it's published!

Just Call Me Daisy - Breastfeeding Mother's Stories

I can't wait for my copy to arrive!

My Big Little Man!

I have so much to catch up on, I know. But one thing I want to say is that Gideon has grown up SO much lately! He is such a handsome, smart little man! It breaks my heart, just a little. With Judith I always enjoyed her more as she grew and entered new stages. And it's not like I'm enjoying Gideon less as he grows, because I LOVE this stage and he is so cute and fun, but I do miss the baby-ness about him (am I actually saying this?).

I thought he was going to wean just before, and the first few days of, our trip. He only nursed 3 times in 7 days. But then he picked back up again, and has been nursing every day since then (just before bed though). I don't think he's getting much, if any, milk, but he still seems too young to me to wean, and he seems to agree. Some nights when I am tired and he settles in for a long nursing session (it hurts quite a bit now that I am pregnant, plus I have developed 2 hernias so I'm really protective of my belly and nursing can hurt that too), I wonder if I should have just jumped at the opportunity to wean him. I think about if I do end up tandem nursing, will it be a good or bad thing for me? Will I regret encouraging him to stay nursing? But I'm just taking one day at a time and seeing what happens. He's becoming a big boy, but he's still my baby!

Also, Gideon really bonded with Dave on our trip. It makes me so happy, he loves Daddy now and will go to him for comfort, not just me anymore. Even on the plane on the way home, Gideon ONLY wanted to be held by Daddy, and when Dave got up to go to the washroom, Gideon cried the entire time I had to hold him. It's quite the relief for me, with the new baby coming. It's special for Dave too, since before the trip he felt like Gideon never really wanted anything to do with him.

Anyways, I want to share a great series of photos with you. These are from the first day of our trip, when we spent the day at Dave's parents' house before setting out for the cottage. Gideon had a blast making faces in the mirror.











He has a great sense of humour already, and he knows it.

Salma Hayek Breast Feeds African Babies!

Now, I don't use disposable diapers, and haven't vaccinated my kids, but I think that what Pampers is doing here is great. I especially love the end of the video, from 5:15 on, when they talk about breastfeeding.

Would you breastfeed someone else's child? I absolutely would. I have even thought about going to a developing country to help women breastfeed. One of my many secret dreams...

Vote!

I'm sure everyone is sick of the word "vote" by now and is glad this whole election business is over (or am I the only one?). But I have something totally different for you to exercise your voting abilities on, since you're all warmed up.

I recently submitted my breastfeeding story (the one I posted a little while back) to a collection in-the-making and it was selected to be a part of the book ‘Just Call Me Daisy: A Breastfeeding Mothers Story’. It would be really cool if the book got published, I think this kind of book would be helpful to new and prospective mamas. It would also be really awesome for me personally to know that words I have written would be sitting on a bookshelf somewhere.

The book was created through webook.com, and you can go here (http://www.webook.com/vote) to vote. The top 10% of book proposals based on the voting will be published. I think you need to have an account to vote, but it's simple to sign up and it's actually a really cool little writer's community. The book my story is in is currently on the 4th page, again it's called ‘Just Call Me Daisy: A Breastfeeding Mothers Story’. Please vote for us! = ) Or if you don't like it please leave constructive criticism. It could always be edited and resubmitted later for voting again. Some of the other books up for voting on are pretty cool too.

Thanks!

My Breastfeeding Experience

Breastfeeding is something I always assumed I would do. I was breastfed as a baby, and it just made sense. What everyone failed to inform me, however, was how difficult it could be.

My daughter was born after a 43.5 hour labour. I was completely exhausted and suffering from a second degree tear, but that did not seem to interfere with the intense feeling of euphoria that flooded my body. I wanted to start breastfeeding right away. There was a shift change in the hospital right after the birth, and my wonderful midwife was replaced with one that was not so gracious. The baby's head was shoved on to my breast, and I was left to basically figure it out on my own.

I had no idea how much it was going to hurt. After a few hours the euphoria was gone and the exhaustion and pain I was experiencing was overwhelming. I couldn't sleep. I was overflowing with hormones and emotions that I was not prepared to deal with. The baby kept crying, but I couldn't figure out how to feed her, and was too weak to pick her up or hold her very long. In the morning a new midwife came and showed me some compassion, but didn't have time to stay with me and help. She told me that breastfeeding was going to hurt me more than most women because I was so fair and had flat nipples. But that I could do it just as well as anyone else. I was frustrated and by then my nipples were completely destroyed. I had no help, and was getting no rest. Every time the baby cried my heart sank through the floor at the thought of having to endure a feeding. I wasn't sure if I could keep doing it. The thought of nursing for a whole year, 6 months, or even 3 months was too overwhelming to think about. I couldn't believe other women could actually do this, it was so hard.

We ended up leaving the hospital early and then spent a day or so in a birthing centre where there were no other patients and the midwives were able to give me their full attention. Finally, after many tears and having two midwives constantly at my side for what seemed like an eternity trying and trying and trying to get the baby to cooperate, she finally figured out how to latch properly. She had become a very fussy baby, undoubtedly just as frustrated as me with the whole breastfeeding thing.

I was relieved to be able to go home, although things remained extremely difficult. My nipples had been torn up and bleeding for three days, and even though my daughter finally figured out how to latch properly and was not causing any more damage, the healing process was long and painful. A midwife came to my home every day for a week to check on the baby and I and help with breastfeeding. My daughter lost a lot of weight in the first three days, was running a fever, and was still not feeding well, so I ended up having to go visit my doctor. Fortunately, my doctor, midwives and everyone around me was very supportive of breastfeeding and switching to formula was never suggested, even though I secretly wished I could just give up and be done with it. After about 10 days she finally gained a llittle bit of weight. She wasn't back up to her birth weight, but she had at least gained some, so my doctor was satisfied with that and just urged me to continue on. I was also surrounded by a wonderful community that believed in me and encouraged me to persevere. My husband and I were living in Australia at the time, and our families were back in Canada, so I don't know what we would have done without our amazing friends. I learned to take it one feeding at a time, and not worry about anything else. Breastfeeding was now my more-than-full-time job.

It took 3 weeks for my nipples to finally heal, and considering that I had to feed 8-10 times a day, around the clock, it was the longest 3 weeks of my life. My nipples were still quite sensitive, even though the wounds were gone. I dreaded every feed. Every time she latched on I would scream and curl my toes. Shortly after the sores and scabs had disappeared, I suffered a short bout of mastitis. I thought I was going to die. But I continued to nurse through it, and after about 24 hours, I started to feel better. My breasts still hurt for several days though. Then just to ensure I had the full spectrum of the painful nursing experience, I got thrush when my daughter was about a month old. It came in association with the constant yeast infections I had which hindered my postpartum healing and made sitting extremely painful, and also horrible fungal infections in my finger and toe nails, which made holding anything and walking painful as well. I was in an extremely rough shape. Not to mention the overwhelming feelings of rejection by my daughter and failure as a mother. I was a physical and an emotional wreck.

My daughter was experiencing her own pain as well, it turns out. She was always fussy at the breast. She would eagerly latch on at first, but shortly after the letdown she would arch her back, pull off and scream. The rest of the feeding would consist of me trying to squirt milk down her throat as she screamed. It was so frustrating for both of us. I was devastated that breastfeeding was a battle rather than a bonding experience. I can recall a few nights in the first couple of weeks where neither of us slept, and we both just cried and cried. She wouldn't sleep all day either. It was very hot. We were both exhausted. She was constantly hungry. She was not a happy baby whatsoever, and never smiled. During the day I would try to feed her for an hour, and then give myself a break for an hour, just holding her while she screamed. Once the sun went down she would normally sleep for a few hours at a time, and accept the breast a little more willingly since we weren't sweating on each other as much.

Three weeks after the birth a mama in our church heard my daughter cry and informed me that she had 'the reflux cry'. Her own two daughters had reflux as babies, and she knew the sound of the distinct cry. She showed us how to hold her upright with a hand firmly on her tummy to ease the pain, and even came to our house and helped us prop up the bassinet so our daughter could sleep as vertical as possible. This helped immensely. We finally got more sleep at night, and were able to help her cope during the day. Nursing was still quite the ordeal, but we were getting used to it. Knowing that my daughter was also in pain helped me to be more compassionate. We were in this together.

Breastfeeding hurt me for the first 4 months of my daughter's life. The reflux affected her ability to nurse and keep food down for 6 or 7 months. But eventually we found our groove. I finally felt like I could breathe again. I had an excellent milk supply thanks to my hour-on-hour-off feeding schedule in the early days. My daughter gained weight, slowly but surely. She was always skinny, but healthy. Eventually she began to smile, and around 6 months after she was born I was rewarded with her first giggle. When we moved back to Canada we were occasionally urged to give her formula, but by then there was no way. We had worked too hard. I was extremely confident in my decision to breastfeed. I realized that this whole experience was indeed a bonding one. We had persevered together despite everything, and in doing so we were bonded together much more solidly than we would have been if breastfeeding had gone smoothly.

Breastfeeding became a big part of who I was, I did a lot of research on it, and decided that I would nurse as long as I could. I discovered attachment parenting, and found a community that supported me. At one point I even considered becoming a lactation consultant.

My daughter ended up nursing for 19 months. Around 18 months of age, she started becoming less interested in the breast and not asking for it much. When I would offer her the breast and she wasn't interested she would bite me, so I quickly stopped trying. Eventually she stopped asking completely. It was totally natural and I didn't experience any pain as a result of weaning. My breastfeeding experience was in like a lion, out like a lamb. I was kind of sad in a way that she weaned so early, I wanted to nurse her until she was at least 2, and had dreams of tandem nursing her and her sibling that we were trying to conceive. But I was completely satisfied. I know I did the right thing, and my daughter and I had a wonderful relationship. I proved to her that I would never give up on her no matter what. I felt like a champion. I was so proud of myself. I can totally understand why many moms choose not to breastfeed or stop breastfeeding, it is definitely not easy. But for us it was worth it. My sense of failure at first had now become a very satisfying sense of accomplishment.

At first breastfeeding was awful, but my daughter and I persevered together, and honestly it taught me so much. I learned to be patient and selfless, and discovered that motherhood was HARD and often painful, but so worth it. Breastfeeding broke me as a person more than anything in my entire life, but like a seed, in doing so made room for much personal growth. It eventually built me up, stronger, wiser, and more determined than ever. It taught me what I needed to know deep in my heart, lessons that cannot be explained in words, and made me into the mother I would need to be for my children. It humbled me, and also empowered me. I think all mothers probably experience this no matter how they feed their babies, but for me the trials (and eventually triumphs) of breastfeeding was my 'make AND break' experience of motherhood. Breastfeeding was so much more than just nourishing my baby, even more than bonding as well. Breastfeeding laid the foundation of motherhood for me.

*****

I am currently breastfeeding my son, who is 6 months old. My experience with him has been completely different. It was hard at first, again, as it took him 2 weeks to figure out how to latch properly, and to be able to handle my powerful letdowns. I would pump a little at first until the flow wasn't as forceful, attempt to nurse him, and then I would pump more and feed him my breastmilk with a small cup. But it didn't hurt at all, thank God. The worst part was having to wash the pump in the middle of the night. After a couple of weeks he figured it out, and we have been going strong ever since. He is such a wonderful baby! He seriously brings so much joy to my life. He has been smiling and giggling from day one, and loves to cuddle. He nurses like a champ, even in public, which has made my life pretty easy. He nurses every 3-4 hours during the day, and every 2-3 hours at night. But he sleeps and naps well, and is just so darn cute and happy, so I don't mind his frequent feeds. At 6 months he is 23 pounds, and no one has suggested giving him formula, haha.



My two breastfeeding experiences were vastly different, but both equally as rewarding. I would encourage any new or expecting mama to stick it out, no matter how hard it is at first. Surround yourself with people that love you and support exclusive breastfeeding. Don't allow yourself the option of giving up (unless absolutely medically necessary, of course). Accept it as a new essential part of life, like breathing, eating, and going to the bathroom, and it won't seem like such a burden. Don't treat it like a chore, or it will become one. It is not easy, but it is worth it. If you can make it through the first few weeks, it gets much better. Persevere, and you will be rewarded in the end. Most of all, cherish the nursing experience with your baby, no matter how much it hurts or frustrates you, because some day you will miss those intimate times.

Today is my Local Breastfeeding Challenge!

What: A challenge to gather together as many nursing mamas as we can at the same place and time. There will be related booths, registration packages with great coupons and information, prizes for different categories and a babywearing fashion show - plus more to be announced!

Why: To raise awareness about breastfeeding.
Canadians celebrate World Breastfeeding Week October 1-7, and this year in Canada the theme is "Mother Support: Reclaiming Our Breastfeeding Culture." This issue has recently been brought to the forefront with prominent news stories such as that of Manuela Valle at H&M and the Westjet incident, and more shockingly, the ensuing frenzy of comments in response to the articles on sites such as CBC.ca. Now more than ever it is crucial that we create a positive support system and environment for nursing moms and moms to be everywhere. We aim to do this by holding this fun event at which parents can discuss, relate, gather information, have fun and feel accepted.

Who: Breastfeeding mamas, babies/children and their supporters.

When: Sunday October 19, 2008 10am-12pm, latch-on at 11am sharp!

Visit http://www.babyfriendly.ca/challenge/ for more information.

For further information on the hows and whys of breastfeeding, please browse the following great websites:
http://www.infactcanada.ca/InfactHomePage.htm
http://www.kellymom.com/
101 reasons to breastfeed: http://www.breastfeed.com/resources/articles/101reasonsp1.htm
http://www.drjacknewman.com/
http://www.lllc.ca/index.php

EDIT-Ugh. When I set out this morning I noticed there was something definitely wrong with the brakes on my van. Turns out we were out of break fluid. By the time we got that fixed, I missed the event. I'm so bummed...

Gross? What Does That Even Mean Anymore?

This morning as I wiped the snot from Gideon's nose with my sleeve, I realized that becoming a mother has brought me a long way as far as my tolerance for all things "gross".

This morning I also threw the diapers in the wash, grabbing handful after handful of wet and soiled cloths with my bare hand, no problem. Poop washes off.

I get spit up on every day, most of the time I don't even bother changing anymore. Barf stains are the new black for me.

Gideon is a boy. I get peed on sometimes when I change him (although not as much anymore). It happens. Not a big deal.

Potty training Judith involved being peed on, handling soiled clothing, and cleaning up accidents on the floor. I got over it.

I pick at Gideon's cradle cap. All the time. It's addictive.

Some nights when I get up to feed Gideon I realize that my side of the bed is saturated in breastmilk. Then I go back to sleep in it. Like I care what I will smell like in the morning. And the need for sleep outweighs the risk of drowning.

Judith. Spills. Everything. EVERYTHING. You wouldn't believe the towels I go through in a week cleaning up after her. Her face is always dirty and her hands always sticky. But she still deserves hugs and kisses and the hand prints on the walls and my pants don't bother me too much anymore.

Judith often eats off the floor. She drops her food there, and we don't like to waste. Sometimes I cringe because the floors aren't always so clean (because of all the food dropping, it's a vicious cycle). Other times I do it too. I discourage this practice in public places, however.

My kitchen is often starved for attention. We live in a basement apartment, so food starts to bring forth new life after being left out for about 10 seconds. Changing the garbage was agony when I was pregnant. But I've since gotten over it. Mold schmold.

I admit I do intervene when Judith finds something on the ground and immediately puts it in her mouth (candies, straws, popsicle sticks, etc). I take it away of course and try to get it through her head that WE DON'T DO THAT! But she hasn't died yet... or even gotten sick.

I kiss boo boos. Dirty, bloody gross boo boos. Nothing heals and consoles like mama's kisses.

I could probably think of more, but Judith just dumped her potty full of pee all over the bathroom floor... again. Gotta go!

Tired Today...

Our fridge is really full right now (yesterday was grocery day).

I spent a few minutes this morning rearranging things so I could fit something in.

Then I realized that the cereal box does not go in the fridge...

*

P.S. Dear Gideon, feeding every 2 hours all night, and then refusing to eat for 4 hours straight in the morning is MEAN. You deserved being sprayed in the face repeatedly.

This Morning I Woke Up to This

I guess Dave was confused.

The Mommy Paradox

I find it interesting that the number of kids I want fluctuates with my mood.

For example, last night Gideon was up at least every hour. Sometimes I didn't even get a chance to doze off and he was crying again. And he didn't do his usual 2-5 minute power feed and pass out again. No, he just wanted to nurse all night. He'd go 20+ minutes, and even then I would have to pry him off when I couldn't take it anymore. Only to do it again within the hour. Needless to say I was extremely tired and dehydrated this morning. While he was nursing all I could think of was "What ever possessed me to want to be a mom!"

Then this morning when he woke up and it woke Judith up (which means there will be no going back to bed), I grudgingly looked over to him, hoping that he could see the pain and exhaustion in my eyes and magically go back to sleep and take his sister with him. But no, instead he looked up at me and broke out in a huge, sweet smile, and reached his arms out for me. Suddenly I was all "Awwww! Ok, I'll have 6 more. No problem."

Psychotic.

When I think about it though, in the long run I think I would be happier with a bigger family. It's obviously hard when our kids are babies, but that's really nothing compared to the privilege of bringing LIFE into the world. When I look at my kids and see how amazing they are, and think that I was the one honoured enough to give birth to them and raise them, it is very humbling. My present convenience pales in comparison.

Gideon's Birth Story

ORIGINALLY WRITTEN APRIL 8, 2008


Gideon Isaiah Michael was born April 4 at the Foothills hospital in Calgary, AB at 10:14 pm weighing 8 pounds 9 ounces, measuring 21 inches long. Both Gideon and Judith were born on Friday nights! = )

Things got started with mild cramps Thursday overnight, I noticed them when I got up for my normal night time bathroom breaks, but they weren't bad at all and I slept through them just fine. I didn't think it was labour because when I was out shopping on Thursday I ended up in the bathroom at Value Village for quite a while with diarrhea (lovely, I know), so I thought it was just that again. Then at 6 am I noticed I had quite the bloody show. It continued all morning, and I was having mild, but at least real, contractions.

Every time a contraction came I just praised Jesus because I wanted labour to come so badly. It was so exciting, but I wasn't getting my hopes up because I figured I wouldn't get into "real" labour for a few days. I was going about my life as usual, and starting around noon my contractions got to the point where I had to stop to breathe through them, and I started recording the starting time and duration of each one. But I still thought it was pre-labour because I was totally fine between contractions and spent the day playing with Judith and reading a book. I actually really enjoyed the rise and fall of the rushes and was experiencing the whole "riding a wave on the ocean" thing with each contraction, it was cool!

The contractions never got nearly as bad as they did during Judith's labour, which I believe was due to being at home and not in the hospital. The pain was totally in my back and thighs, I hardly felt anything in my belly at all which was odd and I was kind of waiting for that to pick up too. I leaned forward through the contractions and pushed on my lower back which felt amazing. It would have been so painful if I had to lie on my back on a bed! Moving around a lot helped too.

So I spent most of Friday just eating and drinking for the supposed "long road" ahead, and not paying too much attention to the pain. Dave came home from work around 2:30, I told him to stay and work the rest of his day, but he was certain that I was underestimating myself so he came home. He brought us all Subway for a late lunch! Then he was smart and had a nap. Judith and I joined him, but I couldn't sleep through the contractions. I did nod off for about 10 minutes between contractions once, but when the next one hit I had to quickly sit up and I felt like I was going to puke. So I got up and kept myself busy while they slept.

When Dave got up we watched Star Trek, and then I called the midwives around 6:30 because I thought I finally was in good labour. I started having to moan a bit during the contractions. I figured I was around 4 or 5 cms dilated, because it was about the same pain intensity that I felt in Judith's labour when I was at that point. One midwife showed up (the one that saw me for 80% of my prenatal care, and who was actually the first midwife I met when I went for the orientation session back in August) around 7:15 and checked me, and I was 9.5 cms dilated! I told her I loved her. I still felt great for being that far along. She also checked the baby's heart rate and that's when things stopped being blissful. It was up in the 180's. I told the baby to chill and his heart rate came down to the 160's, but then soon went back up.

The back-up midwife showed up around then, not sure what time it was. I sat on the toilet for a short while, which I had been doing a lot of and it felt good, and then got into the bath tub, hoping I'd be able to push soon. The midwife didn't want to go to the hospital just as much as me so we were hoping that I'd start to push and the baby would come quickly and then we'd not have to go. The bath water felt amazing! If I have another child I am definitely going to try for a water birth because it felt so good, especially on my back. But the baby's heart rate kept going up to the 180's, despite my prayers and efforts to tell him to calm down. I also hadn't felt the urge to push yet even though I was fully dilated (I think the stress of knowing his heart rate made my labour stall, even though I didn't really consciously feel stressed as I knew in my heart everything was fine).

After we waited over an hour and his heart rate didn't come down nor did labour progress, we decided to call an ambulance and go to the hospital in case he needed emergency resuscitation if he passed meconium in the womb, which often happens if the baby is stressed and can cause pneumonia or something I guess. At that point I also had to accept an IV into my arm with antibiotics due to me testing positive for strep b (I declined having the IV put in right away when the midwife came because my waters had not yet broken). The hospital required me to have the IV, and I'd rather my midwife administer it than a nurse at the hospital I didn't know. It was awesome to have the same midwife through all my prenatal care and birth and postnatal care! It's so nice to have someone you know and trust. I am totally sold on midwives and probably could never deal with the standard doctor/hospital care for birth in the future unless for some reason I have some big risk factors.


It was so hard for me to get out of my nice tub, get dressed and then lie down on my back in an ambulance for the bumpy ride to the hospital while in transition (I was shaking and nauseous, but managed to not throw up through it all, despite being in the transition stage for over 2 hours) and still having hard contractions, but overall it wasn't too bad and even the EMS guy couldn't get over how "perky" and talkative I was between contractions knowing I was so far along in my labour. Once we got to the hospital, around 9:30 pm, we got a room right away and didn't have to check in or anything (a perk of having midwives, they called ahead and they have lots of privileges), and of course once we got there the baby's heart rate went back down to normal.

I barely got the heart rate monitor hooked up when I had the urge to push, and with one strong push there was a pop and my waters broke, and his head started emerging right away! The thought of lying down was overwhelming because of the pain, so I got up into a squatting position. I actually ended up with my right knee down on the bed and my left leg out to the side at a right angle. It was kind of an odd position but that's what my body wanted to do. I reached down with my hand and could feel his head already partly out of me! The intensity of the pain was beyond words though! I felt like freaking out, but somehow retained control over everything. I made lots of noise though, as that helped a lot. The urge to push wasn't as overwhelming as I remembered with Judith's birth, I totally controlled when and how hard I pushed, I was able to focus on and follow the midwife's guidance and used my breathing to let him slowly crown and come out without tearing. That doesn't mean it didn't hurt like nothing else I've ever experienced though! I couldn't believe it, it was WAY worse than the pain of pushing Judith out. With Judith I loved the pushing part, it felt really empowering (although my body was in control and did it all, it wasn't necessarily "me"), but this time it was just hard and excruciatingly painful. But in the moment I was able to remain focused on the task at hand, thank God, or I seriously may have lost my mind at that point.

I am really glad I read so many home birth stories and really ate up all the information I could about natural birth over these last few months, and also that I took the Birthing From Within classes, because I was able to keep my focus and stay completely present and in control throughout the entire labour. I am also thankful that the pushing/crowning only took 15 minutes total, from my waters breaking to having him in my arms. I can't believe how fast it went! He was born at 10:14 pm. My first thought was just surprise at how big he was! He was also kind of a purple colour, but the midwives said that was good, and he was screaming his head off so obviously he was breathing great, we didn't suction him or anything. No intervention whatsoever was needed in the end.

I sat back and just held him on my tummy, the umbilical cord was too short to get him to the breast right away. It took 16 minutes to deliver the placenta, which I was kind of nervous about for some reason (I didn't even get to see Judith's placenta, they gave me a shot in the leg after she was born and I delivered it right away and they just took it), but it ended up being the easiest part of the whole thing. After a while I realized I didn't even know if the baby was a boy or girl, since he was on me under a towel, so I checked and announced that we had a boy! We decided to name him Gideon Isaiah Michael. If you put the meanings together, it reads "Great Warrior" "God is salvation" "Who is like God?". Gideon can also mean hewer or feller, and my dad likes that because he loves cutting wood, lol. Michael is also after Dave's dad.

Gideon took to the breast really well at the hospital and nursed for quite a while. The midwife got me some toast with jam and peanut butter with apple juice and it tasted like the best food in the world! I haven't really felt hunger in 9 months, but literally as soon as I gave birth it came back, and I have been one big eating machine ever since! Then I went pee so I could have the IV taken out (I totally hate any kind of needle or IV), had a shower and the midwives did up all their paperwork. Gideon was not a happy camper in the hospital, he screamed basically the whole time we were there. He definitely has good lungs! I got dressed slowly and painfully, my back was SO sore from the labour, and I had a labial hematoma which means my girl parts were bruised and extremely swollen from broken blood vessels under the skin (it looked and felt like I had a mouse between my legs and was very painful). But at least I had no stitches! Dave got Gideon ready to go, and we left the hospital at 1:30 am. It was nice to be able to go home so soon.

I kept saying that the baby would come during a snow storm, just because it has been so nice here since February, and I was right! When we left the hospital it was indeed snowing. My mom came and picked us up, with Judith asleep in the back. When we got in Gideon was still screaming, but Judith took it really well and was trying to console him. For the last few weeks before the birth Judith kept saying "Baby going to come in car seat", and she was right! Maybe she knew all along that he would be born in the hospital. She also knew all along and kept telling us that the baby was a boy. When we got going Gideon fell asleep and then Judith kept telling us to be quiet so the baby could sleep. We got home and spent a little time just adoring Gideon, then we all went to bed and had a great sleep! Gideon didn't wake up at all until the morning.

The next day was a bit rough, I was so sore and Gideon wouldn't latch on at all to feed, but we managed to make it. After Gideon wouldn't eat for 24 hours I finally just pumped and gave him some colostrum in a cup. The midwife came over a couple times to help, and eventually he got it, kind of. I still had to pump sometimes, but I kept offering the breast first and he finally got the hang of it, thankfully. It was interesting to discover through pumping that I have a crazy supply! I could pump 30 ml of colostrum in less than 20 minutes! My milk came in last night, I think I am going to be quite abundant again this time around. At least now we actually have our own place so I can pump and freeze the extra milk in case I need it some time. I'm happy that breastfeeding doesn't hurt nearly as much this time around too. I'm swollen and tender in my crotch, but my nipples are still ok. We had a rough night last night with him not being able to latch due to engorgement, he screamed for hours, but he finally had a good feed and sleep this morning. He's still really colicky today, but at least he's eating.


Overall the birth experience was really good. I kept my head on and was very laid-back through the whole birth and I am so proud of myself! I didn't get my home birth, but it was still totally natural and without intervention in the end so I am very satisfied with it. I can't believe how different it was from Judith's labour! She came early, he came late. She came slowly, with waters breaking first, pitocin augmentation without any pain meds which made for a long, hard labour, but then pushing was great, although long, and crowning wasn't so bad. He came quickly, labour was relatively easy but then the waters broke at the end and pushing and crowning was overwhelming and fast. After Judith was born I was up and about in total euphoria, and told Dave right away that I'd do it again. After Gideon was born I was tired and sore and told Dave I want to wait a while before doing that again, lol. I had a big tear with Judith that took lots of stitches and 10 weeks to heal, but I didn't tear at all with Gideon and I'm almost totally healed up already! That's weird because Judith was only 7 lbs 2 oz and Gideon was 8 lbs 9 oz. I was in a totally different head space with each labour too, last time I was clueless and this time I was in control. My midwife kept telling me that she was amazed at how calm I was through the whole thing, even when we had to transfer, and she was impressed with how well I controlled the pushing and crowning.


So, that's it I guess. I am so happy that I had midwife care, and I totally recommend it. It has also been great to have so much help and support this time around. I like that I can call the midwives 24/7 if I have any problems, and my mom has been great taking care of us here at home. Dave is back at work today, but it was so nice to have him around for the first 3 days after the birth. He did all the diaper changes and burping and just held Gideon all day for me so all I had to do was nurse him and then focus on resting and healing. So here I am 4 days postpartum, and I feel great!

Judith's Birth Story

ORIGINALLY WRITTEN DEC. 10, 2005

Judith was born while we were living in Byron Bay, Australia. We were taking a course called "The Deep End School of Postmodern Ministry" at a church called New Earth Tribe. It was a really exciting, awesome time in our lives.

I think it technically started on Wednesday, November 23, as I was having mild contractions all day. I figured it was normal, as the due date was coming up in a week, and I was quite busy so I thought nothing of it. I went to class as usual, then spent sometime in the IGOP (international garage of prayer) and walked home in the lovely, fresh, warm rain. On the way home I had a nice chat with a hippie lady who told me to call her if I needed anything - although I didn’t have her number - and that she would love to deliver my baby. I have some interesting neighbours… Anyways, then after dinner we went to another local church and listened to a seminar on UFO’s and aliens from a Christian perspective (the pastor used to really be into that before he became a Christian). The whole time I was sitting on a hard plastic chair and it was so painful. That night for some reason Dave and I were up late (about 2 am) talking, when all of a sudden I leapt out of bed and ran to the toilet. I had felt a bunch of fluid come out, and I knew something was up. I ended up on the toilet for about half an hour because every time I would stand up more liquid would come pouring out. I figured it couldn’t be urine because I couldn’t control it, and I have always had excellent bladder control and my pelvic floor muscles have never failed me. I made the conclusion that my waters had broken. We made a call to the birthing center to let them know what was up. The midwife wanted to know how far apart my contractions were, but I had not been paying attention at that point, and they didn’t seem bad, so we decided to wait until the morning and see what was happening then. I ran around for a bit packing a bag for the hospital, and then tried to get some sleep (yeah right, who could sleep?).

The next morning when I got up my contractions had subsided quite a bit. Pastor Phil decided to cancel the lectures that day because Dave, Row and I would be involved in the labour, which is half the class! Since not much was happening contraction-wise we stayed home all morning, it was cool because everyone in our house just hung out. I really treasure our times together here because soon we will all go our separate ways and I love these people so much. Dave and I decided to go for a walk to the BP (petrol station) to get some Gatorade for later and hopefully the walk would get my contractions going. While we were there we ran into a bunch of YWAMers from Island Breeze (the same group we randomly ran into at South Bank in Brisbane when we were visiting a friend up there), and some of them remembered us, especially the Canadians. It really cheered me up. We walked back home and then left for the birthing center.

I was really hoping things would pick up, because I wanted a waterbirth more than anything, and I knew that they wouldn’t let me in the water if my waters had been broken for more than 18 hours. But we ended up just hanging out there for 4 hours and nothing happened. The midwives suggested we go home, because they knew that we were paying for the birth, and they wouldn’t charge us for those hours, then we could come back later that night. They said I would have to go to the doctor in town to get a needle thing put in my wrist because after 18 hours of having my waters broken I was going to need antibiotics (because I tested positive for strep B). So we went to the doctor, and he couldn’t get the needle in anywhere because my veins kept collapsing, and I came close to passing out so he decided that we would try later. We went home and I was pretty discouraged.

I decided to take a hot shower, and I spent about an hour in there crying my eyes out. I knew I wouldn’t be able to have a water birth, and I most likely would be transfered to a big hospital if nothing happened soon. The last thing I wanted was for my baby to be born in a regular hospital. I was afraid of being induced or possibly having a c-section if something was wrong! I pleaded with God to make it happen soon so I could have the baby in Mullimbimby at the birth center. I was so disappointed.

After that I went into the kitchen and everyone was there praying for me. It was so comforting to know that there were people all over the globe praying too. We sang some worship songs, prayed and interceded, and prophesied over the baby. It gave me hope to go back to the birthing center and see what would happen.

When we got back to the birthing center it was pretty late Thursday night, November 24. There was a doctor there that put the needle thing in me, and I got my first (ever) shot of antibiotics. By then my contractions had pretty much stopped, and I wasn’t losing any more fluid (after my waters broke I was constantly leaking whenever I’d have a contraction). The midwives suggested I get some rest. I got about 5 hours of sleep in total that night, getting an hour here and there, with bouts of crying and praying in between. I felt so helpless. The midwives weren’t around much because I guess they had an emergency over in the main hospital.

The one cool thing that happened was a helicopter came in during the night. The landing pad was just outside our suite so we watched it and it was really amazing. Apparently it's a rare sight. Later on it took off, just at dawn, and we were able to see a most magnificent sunrise. Later in the morning my doctor came by to check me out. My contractions still weren’t happening, so I was told I would be transfered to a bigger hospital to be induced. I was totally crushed, but the show had to go on. So we packed up our stuff and were off to the Tweed Hospital in Tweed Heads, about 45 minutes away.

By this time I was really tired and just wanted the baby out, so I accepted the fact that I would be induced. When everyone at the house found out what was happening, they decided to come too. It was nice having the whole “family” there, I felt really loved and supported. They all prayed for me. Once we arrived at the hospital I was briefed on what was going to happen, and everyone seemed nice and it felt different than the hospitals I had been in back home. I would only be dealing with midwives, Dave was allowed to be fully involved and my friends could stay. I was examined and was 2cm (but could be stretched to 3) dilated, and they hooked me up to the pitocin drip and monitors to track my contractions and the baby’s heartbeat at 1 pm Friday, November 25. It didn’t look anything like I had wanted, but I was willing to accept it at that point. Mark and Ben had to go home eventually, but Row stayed with me and Dave the whole time, and Hans stayed too but he spent a lot of time downstairs in the chapel praying, and eventually outside our door praying. It meant a lot to me that he stayed until the end.


We listened to worship music the whole time I was in labour, Jason Upton and Laura Woodley. My first midwife’s name was Heather, and she set me up and got me going. The contractions got pretty bad quickly. Apparently being induced makes the contractions much more painful. Heather’s shift ended and the next midwife’s name was Sam. She was from England, and she was young and really nice. Things got pretty intense after a while. I couldn’t move much because of all the things I was hooked up to. Going to the bathroom was a huge ordeal. Every time I went I just stared at the big beautiful bath tub and wished so badly that I was in a warm bath. I decided to sit backwards in a chair for most of the contractions, it was too painful to lie on my back. Eventually I had to be examined again, so they got me on the bed and I was at 5 cm. I couldn’t believe it was only 5, I thought I was going to die! I kept saying “I can’t do this!” The midwife offered an epidural or morphine, and I was really tempted but managed not to give in. I used to judge women who took drugs during labour, but now I totally understand! It was such intense, overwhelming pain. Every contraction I thought to myself “It can’t possibly get any worse than this”, but then it would. Eventually Sam actually had to turn the drip down because she said the contractions were getting too strong. I was totally out of it, people would talk to me and it was hard to understand what they were saying. Dave and Row were there praying for me and comforting me, but honestly that part of labour is all a blur. When the pain came I just closed my eyes and got really quiet. The midwife gave me Nitrous Oxide and Oxygen in a tube, so I sucked on that during the contractions. It was supposed to take the edge off, but I’m not sure. At least it made me focus on my breathing rather than the pain, and gave me something to bite. It totally dried out my throat though, so Dave had to feed me ice. After a little while I gave up the tube because it annoyed me and didn't seem to be helping.

Eventually I was up on the bed on my back (ouch) and the pain got so intense I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. I'm pretty sure everyone in the whole birthing wing could hear me, it's kind of embarassing now, but at the time I didn't care. Screams came out of me from the depths of my belly, and I could feel my body start to push. Sam told me to try and not push, but I couldn’t help it, my body took over. The pain was so intense, my thighs, lower back and abdomen all contracted. When I would scream I would push on my lower back because it killed so much. That part of labour went on forever it seemed. I kept looking at the clock, and every 5 minutes seemed like half an hour. But my mind came back around at that time, as did my sense of humour. Although really, who could make crazy, animal noises and not have a sense of humour?

Sam said it was finaly time to push, and she coached me on how to do it properly. It was the most intense ab workout of my life! I was so exhausted by that time, but with every contraction I pushed with all my might. Every time I told myself “This could be it!”. But even that part of labour was over an hour, I don’t know how I did it. It must have been the grace of God. Sam wanted me to get up off my back, since that's one of the worst positions to birth (I think the only worse position would be to stand on my head, lol), but there was no way I was moving, I didn't even have the strength to roll over. It got more exciting later though, when Sam, Dave and Row excitedly proclaimed that they could see the baby’s head, and there was lots of hair! The end was finally in sight! But it still took me a long time to get her out. I pushed and pushed and pushed, and she came out little by little by little, until I heard them say that her hands were up at her neck by her face. Finally that last push came, and I could feel myself tearing as she came out into David’s hands. The pain of the tear was nothing compared to the pain of the contractions, and I just wanted her out so badly, so I just went for it. I will never forget the feeling of her coming out of me.


Dave placed her on my chest and he cut the umbilical cord. The placenta came out pretty much right away. I saw that it was a girl. My first thought was “Wow, she looks really dark” and my second was “Wow, she looks just like me when I was born!” She barely cried and was so peaceful as she looked straight at me. It felt like a holy moment. I told her that she was beautiful and kissed her on the forehead. I looked at her and knew she would be a strong woman. Her name was going to be Judith, and I was extremely confident in that. I also remembered a prophecy that was spoken over her in the womb, that she would be born with her “hands up” in praise and that she would be a worshipper. And she was indeed born with her hands raised! To this day she still has her hands up all the time. So I quickly proclaimed her Judith Rowena Skyy. I knew it was right. Even though it hurt so much, I said to David “I’d do it again!” I was in such an amazing state of euphoria.

Judith was born at 9:37 pm on Friday, November 25, 2005, 43.5 hours after my waters had broken. We were listening to the song "Home" by Laura Woodley. Sam’s shift was over at 10, so a new midwife came in. She was older and quite rough. She took Judith and weighed and measured her, she weighed 7 lbs and 2.5 oz and was 19 inches long. A doctor came in shortly after and stitched up my 2nd degree tear. I wanted to get breastfeeding right away, so I asked the midwife and she just basically grabbed Judith’s head and shoved it onto my breast. I had no idea what I was doing. It was really painful. Then the midwife made me take a shower. I really didn't want to because I was still in pain and could barely walk and was shaky. Row came with me and bathed me. After that we hung out for a while with Hans and Row, and then they went home. Normally Dave would have been kicked out too and I would be moved to a regular room, shared with someone else, but they allowed us to sleep in the birthing room. We really appreciated that.


I was so tired and exhausted but I could barely sleep. I kept Judith beside me in the bed, and just stared at her all night. She was so tiny and precious! I had to call the midwife quite a few times because she wouldn’t get onto the breast, or just because I was too weak to even pick her up. Dave was great too, every time she cried he was up and right there at my side. I can’t believe how patient, compassionate and selfless Dave instantly became. It has been amazing having him with me, he has taken very good care of me, and it’s so obvious that he loves Judith so much.

In the morning the midwife made me take another shower, and then I was moved to another room. I actually forgot my favourite tank top in the birthing room (it was covered in blood from the birth so I had it soaking in the bathroom). Judith was so peaceful the whole time we were there. In the hall you could hear lots of babies crying, but Judith just slept or looked around contently. Dave and her seemed to bond right away as well, he seems so natural with her even though he never liked or handled babies before. The other baby in our room was the opposite. It cried non-stop. I felt bad for the poor thing because it’s mom took off and left the baby with the midwife and no one could find her. We decided that we really wanted out of there, because it was noisy and not private, and the midwives were too busy to give us much attention (I was still having trouble breastfeeding, and we were supposed to be shown how to properly bathe the baby but that never happened). So we had a doctor give her a little physical exam (he said she was perfect!), and then we went back to the Mullimbimby birthing center for the night, and spent the next full day there, which was Sunday.


The midwives there were really nice, and it was quiet so we got some rest. I was shown how to properly breastfeed, finally. It took Judith a couple days to figure out the proper technique, and in the meantime she had destroyed my nipples. She always screamed and cried when I tried to feed her, and it was a battle rather than a bonding time, which really upset me. We were shown how to do cloth nappies (diapers), and even gave Judith a bath. It was a much better atmosphere than at the hospital. It rained a lot while we were there, which was really soothing to sleep to. A few thunderstorms went through as well, lightening even hit the hospital! It scared Dave and I, and the lights went out for a second, but Judith just slept soundly through the whole thing.

We came home Sunday evening, November 27. Normally they keep you in for up to 7 days, but since we have to pay out of our own pockets for the hospital stay, they allowed us to be discharged early and the midwives came to our house and visited us for the remainder of the 7 days free of charge. On day 4 it was really hot and Judith was running a slight fever, so we decided to go to the doctor. She was a bit jaundiced as well. He weighed her and she had lost a bit, but that is normal, and by then her temperature had come down because the office was air conditioned, so that was a relief. I don’t think she was dehydrated either because her diapers were still frequently wet.

Then there were two nights in a row where she didn’t sleep at all from about 11 pm to 6 am. They were the first couple of days that my milk came in and I don’t think Judith liked it very much. Dave and I were so exhausted and basically took shifts staying up with her. It’s crazy how quickly you get used to a baby crying and you can sleep despite it. I hope our house mates don’t hate us! = ) It’s good though because our room is in the opposite end of the house as everyone else’s. Since then Judith has been better and has kind of gotten into a routine and now only wakes us up a few times a night to feed and then generally goes back to sleep. Although she is still awful during the days. It is too hot for her to sleep for more than maybe 10 minutes at a time, and she gets frustrated while nursing because we just sweat on each other the whole time. She really isn't a happy baby. It's been really hard on everyone. I've been so emotional.

I had no idea how difficult the transition to motherhood was going to be. The birth didn't go the way I wanted it to, and was so much harder than I could have ever imagined. Breastfeeding has been awful, it still hurts so much that when she cries I just want to run away. I am so frustrated with myself all the time. Dave has withdrawn a bit the last couple of days too. I wish Judith would just be quiet for a while. She always seems so angry. My body hurts SO much! And I want nothing more than to be able to sleep, uninterrupted. I think I'd need days and days of sleep to ever actually feel normal again. I'm pretty sure that I have come to the absolute end of myself, and the worst part is that I have no choice but to go on. The community here has been a life saver though. I've been given a lot of encouragement and I can feel their love and prayers.