Two Under Three and Learning to Live in the Moment

My life is a beautiful mess right now. Caring for two little ones under the age of three (both in diapers) is demanding work, to say the least. Some days I feel as if I barely have time to catch my breath, let alone shower, eat, or go to the bathroom. Most nights I hit my pillow with a tiredness so intense that I worry I might fall into a slumber so deep that even my newborn's cries might not wake me (hasn't happened yet!).

My muscles ache at the end of each day like they never have before. Sometimes, when it's barely 9:00 a.m. and I'm on my sixth diaper change of the day (and no, this is not an exaggeration), I start to ponder if I can actually make it through yet another diaper change without having an emotional breakdown. Will I survive this? Can I handle another nap time battle? Will I make it through the next two hours of carrying my newborn in her carrier so that she can sleep when I all I want to do is lay down, or at least sit? How I will I manage to give my two-year-old the 15 minutes of alone time with mommy that she so desperately needs and craves each day? Will I ever get a moment to myself ever again?

Then, I take a deep breath and remind myself to focus on the present moment, not what came right before or what's to come right after. I try to focus on just this one simple moment; my baby needs me and my job is to care for her, to love her, and to appreciate her, fiercely and unconditionally. Children live for the present moment and I need to meet them there, whatever the moment may require, whatever their needs may be. I need to forget for a bit all of the worries swimming around in my head, my never-ending to-do list, or the constant work that needs to be done around the house, and to just be present with them.

Life with small children is exhausting and crazy and magical all at once. I live for those precious fleeting moments when I am reminded of why I'm doing all of this. For instance, the way my almost three-month-old smiles at me, her eyes lighting up with happiness, her legs and arms kicking with uncontrollable excitement, the moment I start talking to her, as if I'm truly the best thing that's ever happened to her. The way she quiets immediately, even if for just a brief second or two, when I enter a room and she hears my voice—music to her ears. The way her little fists grasp tightly onto my shirt or my shoulder when I carry her, as if saying “Momma, please don't let go of me. I need you to hold me and keep me safe from the world.” The way she drifts off to sleep as she suckles at my breast, cozy and warm and protected, nourished by the body that made her and grew her and birthed her into the world. The way her heart rate and breathing slow down the moment I pick her up, as she breathes a sigh of relief and her little body relaxes into mine, reminding me of the time when we were one. The way she nuzzles into my chest when tired and the adorable sleep smiles. The way my two-year old hugs me with wild abandon, almost knocking me off my feet at times with her force. The way she shouts “I love you mommy!” in the middle of a conversation about trains or preschool or some other random, seemingly unrelated, topic. The way she confides in me about her fears, relying on me to provide explanations for the ways of the world, however confusing or strange or scary they are. The way I feel butterflies in my stomach when I watch either of my daughters sleeping, ever so peacefully and deeply, and the pride I feel at being able to provide a secure and loving home for them where they can rest their growing bodies safely. The way I start to miss them when they've both been asleep for a while, as if my body craves their company, their warmth, and their energy.

These are just a few of the many many moments each day that make all of this hard work worth it. They are the moments that light up my day and nourish my soul, reminding me to persevere, even on days when motherhood gets the best of me, on days when it all feels really hard and overwhelming and exhausting. Days when I find myself feeling depleted and irritable. Days when I think, “How could I possibly give any more of myself to these two children?” These magical moments, sprinkled throughout, are endless, yet so easily overlooked. I just need to slow down enough to notice them. I need to remember to take a deep breath and cherish each fleeting tender moment with my children, a moment here now and gone forever. 

Adele's Birth Story

Adele's Water-Birth Story

            On May 17^th, the day before my due date, I was feeling very weepy and emotional. Mom had been in town for a couple of weeks, helping with the cooking and entertaining Emilia. A few days ago she had started a housesit on the other side of town taking care of someone's dog. She was about 20 minutes away and we had decided that night to meet up at a burger place in town that was about halfway between our house and where she was staying. Jorge made a comment during the car ride over that sent me over the edge (of course, I don't even recall what it was now!), so I cried a bit in the parking lot before we went in to the restaurant and again once we were seated. It was embarrassing; I felt as if I had no control over my emotions whatsoever and I couldn't believe I was THAT lady....the pregnant lady crying in the crowded restaurant. But then again, most of my pregnancy had been this way; it was very up and down and I felt very much out of control when it came to my emotions. We went home and I tried to relax a bit while Jorge put Emilia to bed for the night. Looking back now, I know my body was preparing for something monumental that day. Though I did not consciously realize it at the time, that outing would be our last as a family of three. A huge shift in our family was about to happen and my body knew it. Our body's inner wisdom is a powerful thing, especially in pregnancy and birth!

         Though my midwife had seemed pretty confident that the baby would come closer to my due date this time, I still felt very certain that I would go a week late again. I had made peace with the idea of going past my due date and had spent much of my pregnancy learning to let go and trust the unknown. For someone like me, who thrives on schedules and being in control, letting go of any expectations about the timing of the birth was difficult, but I knew from the experience of my first birth, that it was an important step towards achieving a peaceful and joyful natural birth. I had done some birth art to help me explore my feelings surrounding the labor and birth and my drawings were taped up on the wall in our bedroom, alongside the prayer flags I had strung together with words of encouragement and strength from friends far and near. I felt very prepared and supported. I had a wonderful birth team, composed of two midwives, a doula, my mother, and Jorge, all of whom helped me feel confident and supported in our decision to pursue a home birth.

            The next day was May 18^th, my official due date, and we went about the day as usual. Jorge went to work and I dropped Emilia off at her little daycare for the morning. I stopped by the grocery store to pick up a few items I wanted to make sure I had on hand for the labor: some bananas, nuts, coconut water, avocados, and yogurt. Around noon, I picked Emilia up at school and spent most of the rest of day cleaning the house and making sure everything was set up for the baby. In the late afternoon, I began to feel some mild and sporadic cramping. I'd felt the same cramping a week earlier, mild contractions that came and went for about an hour and then suddenly stopped, so I mostly ignored it and started preparing dinner. I cooked a simple red lentil soup for dinner and Mom came over to eat with us. I let Jorge and Mom know I was feeling a little crampy but to not get too excited as it was probably nothing. I also had a bit of “bloody show” that day, so I texted my doula, Sam, to give her a heads up.

          By the time I went to bed around 9:30 or 10:00 p.m., the “cramping” had become a little more regular, coming every 10-15 minutes and lasting about 10 to 25 seconds, so I knew these were definitely contractions. They continued that way all night long. I tried to rest, falling asleep just briefly until the next surge would wash over me. The sensation would begin as an achy cramp-like feeling in my lower abdomen and then gradually build and intensify until my entire stomach was hard as a rock, before slowly dissipating again. I changed positions a lot, trying to alleviate some of the discomfort, while still staying in a position that would allow me to rest. Eventually, around 3:30 or 4:00 a.m., I gave up on sleep altogether and decided to move the living room couch to really focus on the contractions and to try to make them as productive as possible; my goal was to be super relaxed during each contraction so as to help my cervix open efficiently and quickly. 

         I was ready to tackle the hard work of labor and felt a strong need to be by myself during this time. I knew that this was the beginning of labor, and though I felt a little nervous, I also felt powerful, calm, and very peaceful. The next few hours were probably some of the most productive hours of my labor; I sat on the couch, by myself in the dark, free from any distractions, words, noises, people, or lights, and focused entirely on the primal work of birthing my baby, paying special attention to my breathing and trying to coax my body into a state of complete relaxation. I found child's pose, hands and knees, and resting my head and arms over the top of the couch to be some of the most comfortable positions during this time. I visualized my cervix opening up during each contraction. I loved the image of a flower blooming, especially since it was Spring and the trees in our backyard had just finished producing beautiful large red flowers. In that darkened room, as dawn slowly washed over me, bathing the room in a soft light, I thought about those red flowers, slowly opening to the world, flooding us with their innate beauty and wisdom. I trusted that my body, much like those flowers, would know exactly what to do.

         Unlike last time when I woke Jorge up early in the night to drive to the hospital and then we both missed out on two full nights of sleep, I knew that it was absolutely essential to let him sleep, so that one of us would be well-rested when baby arrived. I labored on my own until about 6:00 a.m., when I decided it was time to let him know what was going on so that he could prepare for the day. I went in to the bedroom and told him I was definitely in labor and that he should let work know that he wouldn't be in today. I said, “I think you are officially starting your paternity leave today!” He sent off a few work emails while I laid next to him and breathed through a few more contractions. Emi woke up a few minutes later and Jorge went to get her and started on breakfast. I moved back to the couch in the living room and texted Mom that I was definitely in early labor and that she should plan to come soon and spend the whole day at our house to watch Emi.

        Though I had very little appetite at this point, I tried to eat something to build up some strength for the task ahead. I managed to have a half of a banana but quickly felt too nauseous to eat. A little later, Jorge called Sam (our doula) to update her on my progress and she told us she would check back in about a half hour to see how we were doing. Mom arrived a little before 9:00 and started to get Emi ready for her swim lesson at 9:30. Though Emi could tell something was going on, I'm not sure she really understood what was happening, or if she did, she didn't seem to care much. Even though the contractions were starting to feel pretty uncomfortable at this point, I was able to remain really calm around her and I think that helped ease any anxieties she might have felt. During the pregnancy, I had been unsure how present I wanted her to be for the birth of her sister, so I made sure there was somebody (Mom) who could be fully dedicated to her during the labor and birth. I was open to her witnessing the birth as we had done lots of preparation for it by watching videos of home births and water births together. I made sure to use language and videos that showed the normality of birth rather than portraying birth as a scary event or medical emergency (since, most of the time, it isn't). In the end, I found I was able to labor more peacefully and comfortably when she was not in the room with me.

        After Mom and Emi left for swim class, I told Jorge I wanted to try drinking some coconut water. I had purchased a real coconut a few days before, so he drilled a hole in the top and emptied the water into a glass for me (after having spent four years growing up on a tropical island, it's been a struggle for me to get accustomed to the taste of canned coconut water!). I managed to drink some of it and it immediately brought me back to wonderful memories of Tahiti. Jorge also called Sharon (our midwife) and updated her on my progress. I was feeling pretty nauseous at this point so I asked Jorge to bring over one of our little trash cans in case I needed to throw up. Sharon had suggested over the phone that I try to eat or drink something since I hadn't had a real meal since the night before. I asked Jorge to heat up some of the homemade chicken broth we had in the fridge. I drank a little but the smell was overwhelming, so I gave up after a while and just focused on the contractions.

          Around 10:00 a.m., we called Sam and let her know we weren't exactly sure if we needed her yet but that things were definitely picking up and she should prepare to come over at some point that day. She offered to stop by to check on me and help time my contractions. I agreed but was thinking we probably wouldn't need her to stay because it was likely going to be a while until the birth. She arrived about 15 minutes later. Jorge and I had just gotten back from walking around in the back yard. While outside, I heard the birds and lawn mowers and the world just buzzing on as usual. I felt the warm midday sun on my face. It was surreal thinking about the world going on as usual while something so huge and majestic was happening within the four walls of our little house. Though I loved being in my backyard while in labor, walking around actually felt too intense at this point, so I preferred to be indoors, sitting, and in a more private space. Throughout the whole process, I kept thinking how wonderful it was to be in my own space and in the comfort and privacy of my own home; no beeping monitors, medical equipment, sterile walls, or nurses constantly intruding to interrupt my birthing space. Just me, my breath, and my encouraging birth team. It all felt very peaceful and intimate.

          Sam came in and asked how I was doing and if there was anything I needed to let out or get off of my chest. I said no, that things felt good, and that I was feeling happy and excited about meeting my baby soon. At this point, I was convinced I would labor all day and maybe have the baby at night after Emi went to bed. Sharon had mentioned once that it was really common for the labor to pick up after moms put their older kids to bed (a.k.a.: when moms can truly relax!), and I was really thinking that would happen to me as well. I was still in the living room with Sam and Jorge, feeling surges every few minutes, when Mom came home with Emi. I thought it best if I moved to our bedroom so that I could really concentrate. I also did not want to be the center of attention; I was definitely craving a darker, quieter, and more intimate space at that point, where I wouldn't be interrupted. It felt good knowing that Emi was with Mom; I knew she was in good hands and that I could truly relax and focus the work ahead. Sam helped me breathe through the surges while applying gentle pressure on my lower back, which felt very nice. I had more back labor this time and during each surge would feel an intense pressure radiating across my lower back. Counter-pressure really helped ease some of the discomfort.

             I decided the best position was sitting upright near the corner of the bed. Jorge left for a while to help Mom prepare some eggs and ham for lunch while Sam stayed by my side. I had a few contractions on the bed and then, around 11:00, felt a “pop” followed by a gush of warm water under me (luckily, Sam and Jorge had already set up the mattress protector and extra pair of fitted sheets). My water had broken spontaneously---a new experience for me! A while later, Sam texted Sharon with the update about my water breaking and Sharon wrote back asking if I was ready for her to come. I said “Yes, definitely!” because I knew the surges were about to get more intense. Around 11:20, Sharon arrived (it turns out she had been waiting outside of our house in her car, knowing full well that the birth would happen more quickly than we thought!). She gave me a hug, and asked how I was doing. I told her I was ok. She asked if she could check the baby's heartbeat with the doppler and I agreed. Baby's heartbeat sounded great and I asked if she could check me to see how far along I was. Things were feeling intense at this point and I started thinking that if I wasn't at least 6 cm, they could go ahead and transport me to the hospital for an epidural because I just didn't think I could deal with the intensity of the contractions for much longer! (In hindsight, this should've been a sign that I was most definitely in transition, but I really had no idea and thought I was going to be dealing with these hard contractions for at least half a day). Sharon said that since my water had recently broken, it'd be better to wait a bit before checking to reduce the risk of infection. I also think she knew I was getting close and that checking would be an unnecessary interference at this point. I started to feel like I might be ready for the tub but I told Sharon I was worried about getting in too soon, having heard about how getting in the tub too early can sometimes slow down labor, so I told her maybe it was better to wait (again, I was in total denial about how far along I was!). I think since I was still able to hold little conversations in between contractions that no one (especially me) realized I was actually much closer to birthing my baby than it seemed.

          Jorge and Sharon left the room for a while to have some lunch and get supplies ready and I stayed with Sam to work through the next few hard contractions. After a particularly intense one, I felt very nauseous and threw up a little in the trash can near the bed. Sharon came in to give me some homeopathic medicine to help with the nausea. I told her I thought I was ready for the bath now. She started filling it up and that's when the contractions got really intense. Each time one would start I felt like it lasted forever. I would get a brief break before another would start up again. During each surge, I braced myself on the bed to deal with the intensity of the wave that overtook my body and I tried my best to take slow, deep breaths. I started shaking a bit during each contraction, a definite sign that I was in transition, though I didn't realize it at the time. At this point, I also began feeling a very strong downward pressure. Sam suggested I hang over the side the bed to see if I'd be more comfortable, but when I tried to move into that position the pressure was almost unbearable. I decided to stay sitting on the bed until I could get in the water. 

     Jorge came in and took over filling up the tub while Sharon got things ready for the birth. I remember thinking, “Why on earth didn't I ask them to fill up this thing up sooner?!” It seemed like it took forever for it to finally be ready, though I'm sure it was more like 20 minutes. As soon as the tub was ready, I got undressed and climbed in. The water felt incredible and though the pressure was definitely still present, the warm water lessened my discomfort quite a bit. I leaned over the edge of the tub with Jorge and Sam by my side. My next contraction was a strong one and I immediately recognized the urge to bear down. I had started vocalizing quite a bit by now and Jorge reminded me to keep my throat relaxed by moaning deeply with me during each contraction. The sensations felt very overwhelming, like being taken over by a force outside of myself. With the next contraction I felt her head descend, and when I reached between my legs I could feel the top of a soft squishy head with hair! It was completely surreal. This was it: my baby was coming and there was no turning back now. The only way out was through and I braced myself for the next contraction. It came quickly and I felt the familiar “ring of fire”. I told everyone it was stinging and Sharon reminded me to switch to small shallow breaths to slow it down. I did that and felt her head slowly ease out of my body. “I think the head is out!” I exclaimed, in disbelief at how quickly it was all happening. “Great!” said Sharon, casually, as she stood beside the tub and watched. I couldn't believe I was doing this all on my own and kept wondering when someone was going to intervene in some way. Sharon was very hands-off but that was one of the many attributes I loved about her. I trusted her expertise and knew she would only intervene if she felt it was necessary.

          With the next contraction out came her shoulders and then the rest of the body. “She's out!” I said. I looked down, stunned, and saw my baby floating under the water. Sharon helped me lift her out and placed her on my chest. I couldn't believe she was here! The pushing stage had happened so suddenly and quickly that it took me a minute to catch up with what had just happened. After just 11 minutes of pushing and about 3 or 4 contractions, Adele Yaretzi had made her way earthside and into our loving hands at 12:33 p.m, about an hour and half after my water broke. I laid in the tub for a bit with her on my chest while Sharon covered her with a towel. As luck would have it, Emi went down for her nap right around the time I got into the tub, and Mom had managed to sneak in just as I was starting to push. She witnessed the whole birth, which was such a blessing! It was very healing for the both of us to have her present for Adele's birth after having missed Emi's birth and first few months of life.

         Adele let out a few gurgly cries and looked at us. She was calm and alert. After a few minutes, Sharon noticed that I was bleeding a bit more than was normal, so she calmly asked me to step out of the tub to focus on getting my placenta out, which in turn would help control the bleeding. The assistant midwife, who lived in San Francisco 45 minutes away, arrived just a few minutes later (though she missed the birth, she was very helpful with the immediate postpartum which is when I needed the most help and was very glad to have their combined expertise). I laid on the bed with Adele on my chest and birthed the placenta about 30 minutes later. I lost more blood than normal, likely due to my low-lying placenta (which we knew about during the pregnancy and had known this was a possibility). I felt very weak immediately after the birth but didn't realize how bad it was until I tried to get up for the first time. About two hours or so after the birth, Sharon encouraged me to get up to try to use the bathroom to pee. I agreed and started to walk towards the bathroom, which was in our bedroom, just a few steps away. Right away I knew something was off because I began to feel very dizzy. Sharon supported me as I walked, but before I was able to verbalize the dizziness I was experiencing, I collapsed in the doorway to the bathroom. I had fainted for a few seconds and the midwives asked me to lay where I fell on bedroom floor while I recovered my strength. While I laid there for about 45 minutes, Sam fed me a smoothie and Jorge brought me some leftover eggs and ham. Those were hands-down the best-tasting smoothie and eggs of my life! The midwives gave me various tinctures as well as some pills to help stop my bleeding.

         Meanwhile, Adele received her newborn exam while Jorge held her on the bed. She weighed 7 lbs 13 oz (a whole pound lighter than her big sister!) and measured 19.5 inches. She had a bit of fluid stuck in her lungs from the birth, likely due to how quickly she came out, so we worked on getting that out using the bulb, but otherwise she was perfectly healthy. She latched on for the first time about an hour and a half after the birth. We waited for her to crawl to the breast on her own and she did it quite well! I did find it a bit hard to be patient as she tried to find the breast herself but it was also so beautiful watching her instincts at work. Her latch was strong and I could tell right away that sore nipples were in my future. (It took about 3 weeks, a lip tie release, some cranial-sacral therapy, and a 3-day stint of exclusive pumping and finger feeding to help my nipples fully heal, before it finally felt like breastfeeding was going well.) A few hours after the birth, Sharon and I agreed that an I.V. with some fluids would help me regain some strength, so we started that and I began to feel a bit better. I was completely preoccupied with my beautiful baby girl and watching her meet her big sister for the first time to really care much about all of the postpartum challenges, but I was very grateful for Sharon's watchful eye and her helpful suggestions. Emi came in to meet Adele after her nap. When I saw them together, I think my heart literally skipped a beat. In that moment, I was overcome with a feeling that can only be described as euphoria; my two babies by my side, on my own bed, in my own bedroom, surrounded by all of these loving women, my mother, and my amazing husband—it was truly marvelous. Emilia stared at Adele intently and sat with us for a while before going to get a snack with Grandma. I think she was a bit shocked but she also seemed to understand, on some level, the seismic change that had just occurred.

Reflection

            In comparing my two births, a few things really stick out as having made a huge difference in my overall comfort and happiness this time around. I had no cervical checks whatsoever during my whole labor with Adele (nor during the pregnancy), which turned out to be such a blessing in disguise because I did not get stuck on a number or worry about “being on the clock” like I was in the hospital. In the hospital, I was checked every couple of hours for over 24 hours and every time I stalled at a number, everyone (including myself) became so focused on that number that it was hard to truly relax, let go, and trust the process. I remember feeling disappointed in myself (and my body) when I stayed stuck at 6 cm for a while. And then again at 8 cm. I was also very fearful each time the midwife checked me because I knew that if I hadn't progressed, she would eventually have to start suggesting interventions (which, after a while, is exactly what happened). It was a vicious cycle; all of that fear/anxiety was not helping me progress and the lack of progression was fueling the fear/anxiety. Once I received the Pitocin my body was no longer my own and I felt entirely out of control, scared, and disengaged from the process. I had the distinct feeling that I might actually be dying, which I never once experienced during Adele's birth.

          In contrast, during my home birth, I was able to completely trust my body and surrender to the physiological process of labor and birth. Though I had a few moments of self-doubt, I felt strong and very much in control this time. I wasn't even aware that I was going through transition until I noticed my legs shaking while I was sitting on the bed and soon after felt an intense pressure and urge to push. That's when I knew we were getting close. Though I hadn't planned on birthing in the water necessarily, I was open to it, and once I reached this point in my labor, the water was the ONLY place where I felt I could manage the pain. I now understand why water births are such a popular option for women opting for a low-intervention birth!

          Though the immediate postpartum period was definitely the most challenging part of that birth, I'm thankful to have been in the comfort of my own home while I recovered and regained my strength over the next few weeks. Having all of the postpartum and baby checks occur in our bedroom was nothing short of marvelous. I still can't believe we expect women to drag themselves to the pediatrician just three days (or sooner) after giving birth! I cannot stress enough how helpful and amazing it was for my recovery and my morale to know that I literally did not have to leave my bed for a whole week (or longer!). I could rest and cuddle my newborn and have everybody come to me—this was hands down one of the best parts of having a homebirth midwife. Sharon also helped tremendously with the breastfeeding issues I encountered and I truly felt it made a world of difference to have a lactation consultant in my home, watching the way I was nursing, how my pillows were set up, etc., and offering suggestions based off of that rather than trying to explain my home set-up during an office visit.

         Overall, it was an amazing and empowering home birth and I will forever cherish the memories from that day. I feel so blessed to have been supported by a wonderful and knowledgeable midwife who practiced evidence-based care and knew exactly when and how to intervene when it was necessary. I also feel incredibly lucky to have found such a warm and loving doula, whose words and presence gave me the confidence to power through some of the tougher contractions and who provided me with the feminine energy and strength I needed. And most of all, I'm so thankful to have such an amazing life partner, whose unwavering support and dedication helped me to feel 100% confident in our choice to pursue a home birth.

         Prayer flags with empowering words from friends far and near. :)

Working through some hard contractions with J by my side. This was about 30-40 minutes before she was born.

 That water felt sooo nice. It truly is the "midwife's epidural". This was about 5-10 minutes before she came out.

Here she is! I guided her little body as she came out, providing some light counter pressure so that she wouldn't come too quickly and to help prevent tearing, but she slipped out so quickly at the end that Sharon had to help me find her and pick her up out of the water!

Big sister meets little sister for the first time. Such a magical moment! (A was born during E's nap, so perfect timing).

My amazing doula! She knew exactly where to provide pressure on my back during the peak of my contractions and was such a calming and reassuring presence during the whole process. Also, she knew to call my midwife when my water broke when I was still in total denial about how far along I was....thank goodness!

Adventures in Meal Planning and The Most Delicious Chicken Noodle Soup Ever

Over the past 6 months, I've been working on creating weekly meal plans that feature nutritious meals that my family likes and that are fairly easy to pull together if you already have all the ingredients. My hope is that these meal plans can be reused many times and that they make our weekly grocery shopping trips easy and quick (since all of the ingredients are already listed). I also feel that cooking from scratch every day can easily become overwhelming and stressful if you don't have a plan in hand.

With a toddler and another one on the way, I don't have much time to spend thinking about what I am going to make each day and running to the grocery store constantly to make sure I have all of the needed ingredients. Since I'm also more of a Type A personality, I tend to get easily stressed out if I don't have a "plan" each week for what I'm going to make for dinner. I find that on days when I don't have a plan (or when I haven't thought ahead enough to, for example, soak some beans overnight or thaw some meat from the freezer the night before), this results in us ordering take-out or eating out because I don't want to deal with the hassle of figuring out what to make. Weekly meal plans have made cooking and shopping much more enjoyable for me and are a great asset if you want to make home-cooked meals but simply don't have much time in your day to spend thinking about all of the details (for instance, if you work a demanding job or have small children at home). With a plan for the week, I've managed to cut down on our grocery bill and reduce food waste because I only shop once a week and only buy ingredients that I know I am going to use.

Over these past few weeks I've been testing out my meal plans to see how well they work in practice. Sometimes I find that I need to tweak or rearrange a few things here and there (for example, I don't like eating pasta-based dishes more than once a week if I can avoid it and I try to include at least one dish that features some sort of seafood each week for all those brain-boosting omega-3s).

Last week, I had a little more time on my hands so I decided to take a break from my regular meal plans and try out a week of whole new dishes. And, boy, what a treat! I happened to find some really amazing recipes that are sure to become part of the rotation, including this amazing chicken noodle soup (from the blog Baker By Nature--you can access the original recipe here). Everyone loved it! Whatever you do, don't leave out the dill and lemon juice (I think the combination is what make this soup so amazing!).

Our Favorite Chicken Noodle Soup (From Baker By Nature)

Prep Time: 15 minutes

Cook Time: 45 minutes

Total Time: 1 hour, 10 minutes

Yield: 6 bowls

Serving Size: 1 bowl

Ingredients

• 1 pound skinless, boneless chicken breast tenders
• 4 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/2 teaspoon chili powder
• 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 3/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 3 large carrots, peeled and diced
• 3 stalks celery, diced
• 1 very large onion, finely diced
• 8 cloves garlic, minced
• Big pinch of salt
• (1) 32 oz containers chicken stock
• 4 cups water
• 1 bay leaf
• 2 cups noodles of your choice, I used gluten free elbows
• Juice of 1 lemon, plus more for serving
• 1/4 cup to 1/2 cup fresh dill, chopped

Instructions

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees (F). Place chicken tenders in a large baking dish lined with parchment paper. Drizzle with 2 tablespoons of oil and sprinkle with spices. Place in the oven and bake for 25 minutes, flipping the chicken at the half way point. Once cooked, pull into small chunks using two forks.
2. While the chicken is roasting, make the soup.
3. Heat remaining oil in a large, heavy bottomed soup pan over a medium flame. Add carrots, celery, and onion, and cook - stirring occasionally - for 8-9 minutes. Add garlic and salt and cook for another minute before adding the bay leaf, water and chicken stock. Increase heat to high, bring soup to a boil, then reduce heat to medium-low, stir in noodles, and simmer for 10 - 15 minutes, or until the vegetables are soft and the pasta al dente. Stir in cooked chicken, dill, and lemon juice. Taste soup to adjust seasonings, then serve at once.

Notes

* You may cook the noodles in the broth (as instructed in the recipe), but if you plan to have a lot of leftovers, you may also choose to cook the noodles in a separate pot, them stir them into each bowl right before serving. This helps keep the noodles fresh and not soggy.

"We needn't play at war because if we give birth, we go to war."

I've been doing a lot of reading lately, most of it pregnancy, birth, or baby-related (because, let's be honest, that's really all that's on my mind these days). I found a wonderful gem of a book called Great With Child: Letters to a Young Mother by Beth Ann Fennelly. It's a beautiful collection of letters about motherhood written by the poet and author, Beth Ann, to one of her newly pregnant friends. It's serious, funny, and quite informative all at the same time. In one of the letters, the author reflects on the natural birth she had with her first baby, and she offers the following advice after her friend admits to being scared of the pain of childbirth (who isn't?):

"I'm not going to call labor pains 'discomfort', and if I tell you to pack dark socks, I'll tell you why. But I'll also tell you the other half of the story, the part that our soon-to-be mothers need to know most:

You are a warrior. You are a warrior, and for your whole life your body has been warming up for this great fight. These last months have been consumed with training everything inside of you, all of the hormones and the loosening of the joints have been in preparation for this, and you are ready. You know, more or less, the day, the place, of your battle, and you will meet it because you are destined for it. It is the greatest challenge your body will ever know. Oh we women needn't play at war and its games like men I've known who can't disguise their aggression and excitement when the bombs begin falling on some country or other. We needn't play at war because if we give birth, we go to war, and at the deepest level, deeper than bone-deep, our evolutionary history tells us that it's a matter of life or death."

I've never seen birth described this way but I can really relate to these sentiments. We know birth is messy, painful (for most, though not all, women), and requires a great amount of courage and strength. Giving birth truly is like going to war. And, let me tell you, you definitely emerge a warrior from that experience (no matter how wounded you are when you come out of it).

I remember after my first birth feeling like I had not only been to war and back-- physically and mentally--but that I needed to give my body and spirit the time and space to recover from what can only be described as a grueling battle that left me feeling depleted and weak. I felt that although I had emerged successfully (and alive) on the other side of that battle, I also hadn't prepared adequately for the enormity of the physical task that a natural childbirth would entail. It became clear to me that I had done a pretty good job at preparing myself mentally for the birth, but physically? I could've done a whole lot better.

So what have I been up to these days?

Besides reading and mentally preparing myself for the endeavor of bringing my second child into this world sometime in May or June, I'm trying to get back in shape. I know that birth is an immensely physical experience (for most of us, it is the single most physically demanding task our bodies will ever experience). Some compare giving birth to running a marathon; I like to think of it as going to war. I know that it will require a great amount of physical stamina to both endure it and recover from it, and I know that, at this very moment, I am not ready.

So here are my exercise goals for the new year and, specifically, the next 5 months:
- Squats, squats, and more squats (Every. Single. Day. As many as I can muster.)
- Kegels
- Walks for at least 20 minutes each day (This one is the hardest to realistically accomplish every day. If you've ever tried to "go on a walk" with a toddler, you'll understand why.)
- Prenatal Yoga (For me, it's a great form of stress relief and feels almost as good as getting a massage)
- Belly-dancing to help prepare my hips and pelvis, and get baby into good position (Luckily, I've been attending a fantastic yoga/dance class that really gets me moving and stretching in ways that feel wonderful.)

I've got a lot of work to do to prepare myself for my natural childbirth--in many ways, but especially physically. I'm getting there, little by little, and I'm excited and ready to tackle the challenges ahead.

                                                         20 weeks

Pregnancy #2 Update! (finally!)

WOWZA! It has been much too long since my last post and for that, dear readers, I apologize.

I'll cut straight to the chase: I am expecting #2! Which is great news and all, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I had a TERRIBLE first trimester, and this partly accounts for my absence on the blog. I pretty much didn't cook (or eat) anything for about two months. Well, I ate some, but it was mostly pre-made soups and frozen chicken nuggets (first time in my life I bought frozen nuggets... and it felt strange, but necessary). I'm not sure why the nausea felt so bad this second time around; I had it with Emi but it was much more manageable. Maybe I'd forgotten how to be pregnant or maybe I was just too busy running around with a toddler to take good care of myself. Either way, it was a mess and compounded by the fact that both J and E were also sick for a good chunk of that time. My advice to myself if I ever experience another first trimester: MAKE FREEZER MEALS AHEAD OF TIME. BEFORE YOU GET PREGNANT. LOTS OF THEM.

But, we made it through and I am now happily in the second trimester. Yay! I am still exhausted but at least I can eat. And, oh boy, CAN I EAT. I must be having a huge baby or something because I am loading up on calories like there's a famine coming tomorrow. I am not exaggerating. If I don't eat a protein rich snack (more like a “mini-meal”) every TWO hours on the dot I am pretty much screwed for the rest of the day. And by that I mean, I become irreversibly nauseous, tired, and cranky...and you might want to stay away. Let me give you an idea of my typical morning:

- Wake around 6:00 or 6:30 a.m.

- Eat breakfast around 6:30 or 7:00: two pieces of whole wheat toast with peanut butter and honey, a piece of fruit, a cup of herbal tea, and half of a bagel with cream cheese

- Snack at 9:00: a fried egg over rice, some chips and salsa

- Lunch at 11:00: a HUGE salad (lettuce, spinach, feta cheese, croutons, sunflower seeds, and my homemade dressing with olive oil and vinegar), baguette with cheese and/or butter, chocolate or something sweet for dessert

All of this before noon! Every. Single. Day. And you better believe that I am having another huge snack about two hours later, at 1:30 p.m. Needless to say, our grocery bill has skyrocketed and though I like to blame it on E, I know she's not the culprit. I think part of the reason I am loading up on fat and protein so much this time around is because I was slightly under-weight when I got pregnant. For some reason, after having E and breastfeeding for so long, I never quite regained my pre-pregnancy weight; as in, I eventually weighed less than before I got pregnant with E (which is weird to admit because most women don't have this problem after having kids). It was an issue for me because I don't feel like I was at a healthy weight for my height and no matter what I did, I couldn't seem to gain it back. So, anyways, I truly believe that our bodies are wise and know what they need. I'm just listening and obliging.

Oh, and before I forget, THIS happened too:

16 Weeks (Pregnancy #1)

16 Weeks (Pregnancy #2)

 They say it's normal to show much sooner the second time around, but this is kind of ridiculous. I am trying hard not to imagine what I'll look like at 40 weeks this time around. Yikes.

On Being Home

In our society, there's a definite (and obvious) binary when it comes to women and their children: the women who choose to return to work relatively soon after having a baby and the women who choose to stay home for an unspecified amount of time to raise their children full-time. I realize that for many women, the decision to stay home or return to work is not a decision, but a necessity. Some women have no choice but to return to work in order to provide for their families, while others might want to return to work only to find that they are unable to find a job or afford childcare. For other mothers staying home after having kids is just what feels right, spiritually, emotionally, and/or financially.

What I've learned since becoming a mother is that other parents, and society in general, judge women regardless of the choice they make. Working mothers are seen as “selfish”, “too career-oriented”, or as putting their own needs ahead of their kids' needs. Stay-at-home mothers are seen as “too traditional” or as reinforcing gender norms in a society where women have worked hard to gain equal rights in the workplace. No matter what she decides, somebody somewhere is going to judge a mom for her decision, and that's really unfortunate. As parents, we already have to deal with our fair share of judgment when it comes to other parenting choices (feeding, sleep, discipline, etc.) so it seems unfair to throw another layer of judgment on whether a mom choose to stay home or work. But, ultimately, the only thing that matters is that she feels happy, satisfied, and confident with her decision.

When I first found out I was pregnant, I assumed right away that I would do what most women do in the bay area: take a three month maternity leave and return to work to help my family afford the crazy cost-of-living here. However, it soon become apparent to me that my income as a preschool teacher was no real match for the cost of daycare or, especially, the cost of a private nanny (which would have been my first choice in terms of childcare). I also already knew that my job was not as fulfilling or rewarding as I would have liked it to be, so leaving it behind to stay home did not feel like a major setback in terms of career building.

I've never considered myself much of a “career woman”. I love school and learning new things and constantly being challenged, but I tend to get bored easily when my days are too repetitive or boring or when they don't allow me to do the things that truly bring me happiness in life: spending time with loved ones, eating healthy delicious food, and spending time outside in nature. When I worked full-time, I found that I rarely had the energy to hang out with friends after work. I was often way too exhausted from my day to spend time in the kitchen cooking delicious homemade food every night. We ate out or ordered in more than I wanted to but it seemed like the only sane choice at the time. On the weekends, I spent time outdoors when I could, but I mostly just wanted to laze around the house and watch T.V. to rest after a long work week of running around after little kids and being constantly on my feet all day. I didn't have the energy to garden much or write. In other words, I wasn't doing the things I truly loved.

Now, don't me wrong, I wasn't able to do a lot of those things my first year of motherhood either! But I am finding that now that my daughter is older, I am able to structure my days so that I can include many of the things that matter to me. I can plan meals out and actually have time to cook them (which saves us lots of money since we are not eating out or ordering in nearly as much as we used to). I have time and energy to grow an organic garden (another money-saver). I complete household tasks without feeling like I am working two jobs all the time (just one, long, constant never-ending job...haha). I can try out my hand at little aspects of urban homesteading (like canning or preserving, for instance), something I have been wanting to try for a while but never had time for. And most important of all, I can spend time with my precious daughter and watch her grow and change and learn new things every day. She presents me with new challenges constantly (Do I let her climb on the coffee table? Is throwing toys an act of defiance or just an experiment in sound and gravity? Am I discouraging her independence by not letting her climb on this playground by herself?). I am always learning from her and learning to better myself as a person and as a mother. I am often re-evaluating my parenting choices, researching and learning from other parents, and trying to pin down the best way to teach her the ways of the world—not an easy task! But mothering has taught me so much about myself, about my flaws and my strengths, my beliefs and my fears, my insecurities and goals. And this is truly a gift.

I know there are things I am giving up by choosing to stay home. I'm not furthering myself in my career and moving up in terms of salary, position, etc. I am not learning some the skills needed to stay fresh and up-to-date in my field. I am not getting as much adult interaction every day as I might like. I am in a single-income family and therefore do not have much in terms of disposable income to afford fancy vacations and expensive things for myself. But that's okay. Truth be told, I have accepted these sacrifices and am now totally at peace with my decision to be home. Accepting and being happy with this decision was definitely a process and didn't happen overnight. Many times in the first year I found myself wishing I was working a normal job where I could leave my child in someone else's loving care for the day instead of me being the one stuck changing the 8^th poopy diaper that day, or wishing I had a real reason to leave the house in the morning instead of realizing some days that I hadn't brushed my teeth or changed out of my sweats and it was already 3:00 in the afternoon. But, over time and ever so slowly, I've become confident and consistently happy with my decision to be home. My child learning to walk and becoming more independent has really helped with this because it has enabled me to regain some of my own independence and a sense of normalcy. The older she's gotten, the more I have enjoyed being home with her because, in a lot of ways, it has gotten easier. 

I've turned away from a traditional career and corporate culture in exchange for a slower, more home-centric lifestyle and I know that this is the right decision for me and my family right now. It won't be forever. As a young mom, I know that I have plenty of time for a career and other things later on, and I look forward to that phase of my life, but I am so happy with where I'm at right now. I also know that staying home full-time to care for children is not for for everyone. Many mothers thrive on the satisfaction they get from working outside the home, juggling the demands of both motherhood and work, and would feel unhappy and disadvantaged if they took time out of their careers to stay home. I totally understand that. Not everyone shares the same passions for homesteading, gardening, and cooking from scratch like I do, and many mothers genuinely enjoy their jobs and get a lot of fulfillment from them. I truly believe that whatever makes a mother the happiest is what she should be doing, whether that be working or staying home, because at the end of the day, a happy mom is a better mom to her children. So moms and dads, let's stop judging each other. We are all doing the best we can.

For more on the topics of staying home with kids, homesteading, etc., check out these books:

Homeward Bound: Why Women Are Embracing the New Domesticity by Emily Matchar

Radical Homemakers: Reclaiming Domesticity from a Consumer Culture by Shannon Hayes

Making Home: Adapting Our Homes and Our Lives to Settle in Place by Sharon Astyk

Eggplant, Tomato and Onion Gratin

It's been a busy summer around here. We're settling in to our new place, doing some traveling, and adjusting to life in the suburbs. After a long tiring day today (for some reason, E was not in the best of moods, which meant I was not in the best of moods either), the last thing I felt like doing tonight was cooking. But, I had an eggplant I needed to use up in the fridge and I knew I wanted to try baking it. I found the following recipe online and I'm glad I gave it a go because I turned out quite delicious. It's a perfect summer recipe since it features two of summer's most prominent players: eggplant and ripe tomatoes. However, be prepared to have your oven on for about an hour, so save this one for a day when the heat hasn't gotten the best of you. (Also, it's called a "gratin" but the recipe doesn't include any cheese, just so you know. I was a little skeptical about this at first, but it actually worked out perfectly). I used avocado oil instead of butter for frying because I love this oil for cooking at high temperatures but butter would work just as well.

Eggplant, Tomato and Onion Gratin

1 large sweet onion, finely diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 or 3 sprigs fresh thyme (or 1-2 tsp dried)
1 bay leaf
3-4 tbs unsalted butter or oil (divided)
salt and pepper to taste
1 medium eggplant, sliced into 1/4-inch rounds
3-4 medium sized ripe tomatoes

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. In large skillet over medium heat, sauté the onions, garlic, thyme, bay leaf, salt and pepper in half the butter or oil (whichever you are using) until soft, about 4 minutes. Remove bay leaf from onion mixture.

Grease a 9x13 inch baking dish with the remaining butter/oil. Spread onion mixture over bottom of dish. Cover with overlapping rows of alternate eggplant and tomato slices. Season with salt and pepper and drizzle with remaining oil.

Cover and bake until eggplant is soft enough to cut with a spoon, about 45 mn. Uncover for last 15 mn or earlier if tomatoes are giving up too much liquid. Brush or spoon juices over top occasoinally to prevent top layer from drying out (I did this once about 40 mn into the cooking). The gratin should be moist but not watery.