Trip to Florida and Why Going on Vacation isn't as Much Fun When You Have Children

Entrance to Cocoa Beach

I'm going to make you look through all of the pictures from our trip ( don't worry there aren't too many) before I tell you why going on vacation when you have kids isn't as much fun (and it probably isn't what you are thinking).

We went to Orlando because Jon won a competition for school and they sent him and some classmates to a conference to present their work. Rose and I just got to tag along. It turned out to be a really fun trip. The first night we got there we dropped Jon's classmates off at the hotel and then rented a car and drove to 2 1/2 hours north to visit Jon's aunt and uncle and cousins. We hardly ever get to see them and it was so much fun to spend time with them. They also invited my cousin and his family over to dinner one night (Jon's uncle is a professor at the law school my cousin goes to, and since there aren't very many Mormons there they know each other). Jon's littlest cousin Eleanor really loved Rose and was so cute with her.

They also took us to see the most AMAZING tree

It is called "Treaty Tree" because supposedly an Indian treaty was signed beneath it, but we read on a sign that what really happened was that around the turn of the century a journalist wanted to protect the tree from being cut down so he made up the story. There really wasn't any treaty, but the name stuck anyway.

It was really a fantastic tree, here you can kind of get a feel for how ENORMOUS the thing is.

The branches go all the way to the ground.

These are Jon's cousins Issac and Eleanor. They are about the same difference in age as Asher and Rose are and watching them play together got me so excited for how my two will be in a few years. Once Asher is past the "lets sit on her" phase... um... actually it just dawned on me that stage might never pass, my brother still sits on me... and he's 23.

Later we drove back to Orlando for Jon's conference and stayed at a beautiful hotel.

This picture really doesn't do it justice at all. The place was incredible. It had two private lakes and the coolest swimming pool I'd ever seen. It was called The Fountains and is a time share hotel. One of Jon's teammates found it on the Internet and got us a great deal-- less than $100 a night. Jon and I were so impressed we talked (briefly) about someday (when we are much older and hopefully richer) buying a time share in a place like this. It was really family focused and I'd highly recommend it (You know they really should be paying me to say all this! ).

The plan was that while Jon was at the conference that I would drive out the the Kennedy Space Center, which I've wanted to see ever since I was little, but by the time I finally got out there I only had an hour or two to spend and didn't want to pay $40 for such short time. So I opted instead to go to Cocoa Beach. I hadn't brought my swimming suit and I was just planning on wading a little bit, but the first two waves that hit me drenched me up to my waist and so I figured "what the heck" and went swimming in my clothes. Rose was asleep in the car seat on the beach and so for about an hour I frolicked in the ocean, in my clothes, by myself. It was grand.

I can see why people fall in love with the ocean and don't ever want to move away from it. I think I could almost be willing to trade it in for my mountains if I had to.

Then last, but definitely not least, we went out to eat at Boston Lobster Feast where I tasted oysters and muscles for the first time. I'm not a big fan of them, I thought they tasted like really big fish flavored boogers. When we were coming out of the restaurant we saw this

Can you imagine this thing cruising down the freeway! Especially if you were driving at night and saw it coming at you in your rear view mirror! Scary.

All in all we had a really good trip, but I've decided that going on vacation just isn't quite as much fun as it was before we had kids. It's not that taking Rose along was hard or held us back from doing what we would normally do, but Jon and I both found that we missed Asher a lot more than we thought we would. We couldn't help but think to ourselves how Asher would have loved the moving sidewalks at the airport, how he would have gotten a kick out of riding the trolley, how he would have loved the incredible swimming pool at our hotel, and how he would have been in heaven chasing all the frogs, lizards and other creatures that come out in the Florida heat.

I was fine for the first few days, but then after being away from him for almost a week I really started to get bit homesick for him. That little boy has become such a huge part of my life and without him life just isn't quite as rich. Even though I LOVED being able to go on vacation and have a break, after awhile I felt like a part of me was missing. It made me think of a quote I wrote down in my quote book a long, long time ago by Elizabeth Stone

" Making the decision to have a child-- it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."

Our children are really parts of us and there is such a feeling of wholeness and completeness when you have them near you. It made me realize why my parents and in-laws get so excited when all of their children are going to be home at the same time. Being all together as a family is the ultimate feeling of connectedness and wholeness. I can only imagine what an incredible place heaven is going to be when whole generations of families will be together for the first time... it will probably be a blast.

I'm sure Jon and I will take more vacations together without all our kids and will have a fantastic time, but I realized this trip just how much becoming a parent changes your perspective on life. As nice as it is being by yourself or with your spouse, it is just more fun being all together than apart.

What's On My Happy List Today

#1 Rose in her bonnet

Perhaps this is one of those "froofy" (is that a word?) mommy things, but I ADORE this bonnet. I'm sure one days she'll look back on these pictures and say "Mom, I CAN'T believe you put me in that." But I don't really care, she just looks so cute. Not to mention I got it at the dollar store-- yeah, what dollar store carries Carters baby clothes? I guess I went on the right day!

#2 Asher with his "bi [big] ball"

Just more evidence of my son's ball obsession. Jon bought him a big blue ball from the grocery store a few weeks ago and Asher adores it. For the first few days it had to go everywhere with him, even to the breakfast table. I wish I would have gotten a video of him eating his oatmeal with his left hand and holding the ball with his right hand so that it wouldn't roll off the tray. He actually managed to eat almost all of his oatmeal like this. Crazy boy.

# 3 Baby Smiles

Rose has started smiling and every time she does my heart melts.

# 4 Making bread that actually looks and tastes good!

I've been working at making homemade wheat bread for the last year or so. Sadly my loaves never turn out very good and in the last 12 months my family has eaten some pretty atrocious looking and tasting "bricks". But this week somehow I managed to produce these

And I am so proud of them. I almost didn't want to eat them. They were big and the bread was the perfect consistency. I'm convinced it was just a fluke, but part of me hopes that somehow I've been blessed by the bread fairy and that this will start to be normal. Any bread making tips?

I also made French Bread for the first time and it was delicious and super easy to make. I don't think I'll ever buy French Bread again, this was much much better.

#5 This is where I am going this weekend!

Orlando, Florida!
This is a picture of the hotel we are staying at.
Jon won a competition at school and gets to go to a conference, and Rose and I are going with him. Asher is staying with his grandparents. Technically he could still fly free but the idea of having to hold two babies on our laps for a cross country flight did NOT sound appealing. I am really excited. It is starting to get cold up here and it will be nice to go some place where I can still wear my flips flops!

I really should be packing.

Unlucky 13

I don't mean to sound superstitious...

but my blog currently has 13 followers.

Perhaps it is just because Halloween is just around the corner, or because my life is incredibly wonderful at the moment and I keep having this feeling that things can't stay this good for long. But having 13 people on my blog is making me kind of nervous. Silly... yes... completely irrational... yes... but PLEASE would someone add themself as a follower so that I don't have 13 any more!

If Only She Could Speak

What do you dream about little girl?

How much do you remember of your life before you came to me?

Do you see angels?

Who were you in the pre-existence?

What type of woman are you going to become?

Can you remember what God looks like?

Because sometimes when I look at you little girl
... I get a glimpse...
and I can almost remember.

"Melon" Discovered!

When Jon and I were in Jordan the hotel where we lived served the most delicious melon every morning for breakfast. It was a type of melon I'd never had before; it tasted like a super sweet cantaloupe but with the texture of honeydew melon. I loved it and looked forward to it every morning. But when I asked Arab waiter at the hotel what type of melon it was he just looked at me strange, said something in Arabic, looked a the other waiter who just shrugged and then realizing the name wasn't going to translate, told me "Melon, it is melon". Not helpful.

When we got home I searched for anything remotley similar to this "melon" but couldn't find it. I finally figured that "melon" was just something (like the amazing Arabic spice za'atar) that I'd have to wait to have again till I went back to the Middle East. In the meantime, Jon and I never let an opporutnity pass us by to tell people about our amazing "melon" experience, hoping they'd know what type of fruit we were talking about.

It had been several years since we'd last tasted this delicious "melon" when on Saturday Jon and I went to the Farmer's Market and bought one of these

a crenshaw melon

and guess what

it was a "melon"!

We had no idea when we bought it what a crenshaw melon was or what it tasted like. So imagine our absolute glee when we cut it open and discovered our beloved "melon"! It was every bit as wonderful and delicious as I remember. Jon and I are thrilled to be reunited with our long lost "melon" and are even delighted that it can be grown where we live! I just sort of wish that it had a more romantic name, "crenshaw melon" just doesn't seem to do it justice. "Cantadew", "honeylope" or even "juicy fruit of heaven" seem like more appropriate names to me. I wonder what the real Arabic name for it is? Hopefully it doesn't sound anything like crenshaw. Maybe we'll just keep calling it "melon".

My Very Own Elmyra

Do you remember her from your childhood?
(well, depending on how old you are)

Elmyra Duff from Tiny Toon Adventures

The animal loving little girl who, when she could catch one, would squeeze a cat or dog to death and say things like:

"I'm gonna hug you and kiss you and love you forever "

or

"I love cats, I love kitties, squeeze them into itty bittys!"

Well I just happen to have a chicken loving and squeezing "Elmyra" at my house

Asher has really become quite talented at the art of chicken catching and when he catches one he doesn't want to let it go. He gets so excited that he finally has one (it usually takes him awhile to catch one) that he goes a bit crazy on the loving and squeezing. He also likes to carry them around and rock them like babies. The poor chicken in these pictures is the one who seems to gets caught the most by him. I think she just gets tired of running and gives up. I'm amazed that she has made it out of his grasp so many times alive and with... most... of her feathers.
She is a really patient chicken.

This chicken chasing fetish probably isn't great for our chicken's mental health, but it is really hard to keep him away from them or to get him to put them down once he has them. The other day I had to chase him around the backyard for 10 minutes before he would put one of his "chicken captives" down. I'm sure I looked like a lunatic chasing after a giggling toddler with a squawking chicken under his arm and yelling "Drop the chicken, do you hear me! Mommy said DROP THE CHICKEN!"
I'm glad our neighbors work during the day.

If Your Parents are Divorced, You Might Relate to this Post

After almost 6 years of being divorced, both of my parents got remarried this summer.

In July my Mom got remarried to Wayne.

They are a good match for each other and seem really happy together. I wish I had more pictures from their wedding but I was running the video camera and didn't take very many. But my sister-in-law took a whole bunch that I am excited to see. But here is Asher climbing all over the chairs before the ceremony.

Then just a week ago my Dad got remarried to Janie

whom we all really like and who makes my Dad giddy like a school boy and glow like a glo-worm.

Janie also has a little girl, Hannah, who is just about the spunkiest, cutest, and capable ten-year-old I've met.

Doesn't she have the most amazing blue eyes?

She is pretty cute and fits perfectly into a family where all the girls either have to have a name that starts with an "H" (Heather, Hilary) or be named Brittney (my littlest sister and sister-in-law).

(Wow, look at how much air my brother gets, I didn't do too bad myself!)

They had the most beautiful reception at Janie's sister's house.



Complete with flaming crepes... totally cool.



It was classy and romantic... it felt magical... like something from a movie.


(I was relieved when I saw this picture that you can't even tell I'm nursing Rose!)

I am genuinely incredibly happy for them both. I've been praying for years that they would both find someone to start over with. Both my parents are wonderful people and it really is a miracle and a huge blessing that they both found people to love again.

BUT

despite my being thrilled for them, it has been a hard transition for me. I think I was a little naive about how it would feel to have my parents get remarried. I was sure that because I am grown up, happily married with two little kids of my own and live hundreds of miles away from them that I wouldn't be emotionally involved. But it has been harder on me than I expected. It isn't that I don't like Janie, Hannah or Wayne, in fact I really love all three of them, but it is kind of hard to see your parents-- who for most your life were married to each other-- make vows to someone else.

I won't go into the specifics of why my parents got a divorce (that would fill a whole blog in and of itself) but it has been a hard 6 years with lots of twists, turns and ups and downs. My brother, sisters and I were just starting to get used to life how it was and had started to be at peace with our parents being divorced. Now our family life is all shook up... again. Not necessarily in a bad way, we really love Janie, Hannah and Wayne, but it is a change-- a big change-- and it is going to take some getting used to. We have to re-learn how to be a family and figure out how we all fit together.

Still, I know that having Janie, Hannah and Wayne in my family is an answer to my prayers. Over the last several years I've prayed so hard that my parents would find stability and happiness, and that my brother, sisters and I would stay close friends. I know that God has helped to make the best situation possible out of the crazy mess of my parents divorce. I also have faith that if He was able to take a hurt, broken and divided family and piece them back together once before, that He will have no trouble in taking a happy, loving, somewhat shaken up family and make it work. I know it is going to take time, and I'm sure there will be some tears shed (we are going to be putting two semi-teenage girls together in the same house), but I have faith that everything will work out for the best. And when it comes right down to it this new family arrangement just feels right ... even if it is kind of hard.

Life With Two

Is harder.

Much harder.

I've now adopted a new measure of success (borrowed from Maria at Ordinary Time) that goes something like this...

"Success is only having one person crying at a time, with bonus points if that one person isn't me".

It has definitely been a challenge learning how to handle the needs and demands of two very needy and demanding children, while still being able to give myself the time I need to take care of myself... and occasionally my husband.

The newborn has been easy. She is really the most mild mannered baby. She only gets fussy when she has... um how do I put this delicately... "tummy bubbles" and she usually only wakes up once or twice during the night and then goes back to sleep. In fact, I can't remember why I once thought that taking care of newborn was hard-- she stays where I put her, she doesn't throw things out of the shopping cart, her cries don't resonate around the church chapel, she doesn't throw tantrums in the middle of the parking lot and have to be carried "potato sack" style back to the car kicking and screaming, and her needs are pretty simple.. eat, sleep, poop, and look adorable. I think I could handle six newborns with the energy it takes me to handle one two- year old.

My main challenge is managing a little boy who, while he adores his little sister, is having a hard time adjusting to life where he is not the center of the universe. He loves to hold and kiss Rose and can be incredibly sweet to her, but he definitely has his moments... okay LOTS of moments. Let me illustrate it this way. A few days ago I found myself sitting on the toilet (sorry about the details) and holding Rose in my arms, because no matter where I put her she was in danger of being "loved to death" by her big brother. If I left her in her bouncy seat she got bounced and squashed. If I left her in the car seat she got rocked. If I left her in the baby hammock she got swung. If I left her on the couch she almost got pulled on to her head. If I left her in the crib she got balls and other heavy objects thrown at her. Looking back I realize I should have just locked the bathroom door and that would have solved my problem, but you never think of those brilliant (and obvious) plans in the heat of the moment! Thus, I found myself with my pants around my ankles, holding my baby, warding off a two-year-old, trying not to scream, and wondering how my life could get so crazy.

It is moments like those that make it hard to remember WHY I ever wanted to be a mother in the first place. Why I wanted to trade in school, a career, world travel, and private bathroom time in order to calm to the raging tantrums of a two-year-old and answer the pleading cries of a newborn.

But then I get moments like these







and I remember why I wouldn't trade what I have now for all the free time, tantrum-less trips to the store, and non-spit-up-on shirts in the world.

Because even though having two is twice as hard,
it is twice as nice.

Men Nursing Babies

I forgot how much I love nursing a baby.

I forgot how sweet it is to have little lips tugging at me and feeling my body respond.

I forgot how beautiful it is to look down and see two big eyes looking back at me with love, trust, and perfect faith in my ability to provide.

I forgot how incredibly needed and important it makes me feel, knowing that I am providing all the nutrition my baby needs to stay alive.

I forgot what an amazing sense of connectedness I feel with my baby and with myself when I am nursing.

I forgot that even though sometimes it is hard or painful, it is still worth it because there is no other feeling like it in the world.

I think that one of my favorite authors, Louise Erdrich, explained it best:

"One day as I am holding baby and feeding her, I realize that this is exactly the state of mind and heart that so many writers from Thomas Mann to James Joyce describe with yearning-- the mystery of an epiphany, the sense of oceanic oneness, the great yes, the wholeness. There is also the sense of a self merged at least temporarily-- it is deathlike. I close my eyes and see Frost's too peaceful snowy woods, but realize that this is also the most alive place I know-- Blake's gratified desire. These are the dark places in the big two-hearted river, where Hemingway's Nick Adams won't cast his line, the easeful death of the self of Keat's nightingale. Perhaps we owe some of our most moving literature to men who didn't understand that they wanted to be women nursing babies." ("The Blue Jay's Dance", pg. 148)

No this isn't a breast.
It is Jon giving Rose the "bicep test".

He holds the baby up to his bicep (he even uses the cradle position!) and if the baby sucks it then he knows she is hungry enough to be passed on to mom. He also uses it as a way to keep a hungry baby "satisfied" until mom is available or ready to nurse. Most of the time he just uses the plastic pacifier to calm her down, but I think he really enjoys doing this when he gets the chance. It is the closest he will get to "nursing" our children and I think it is incredibly sweet.

I have a good man...
who just might have something in common with Keats, Hemingway, Blake and Frost :)

The Past Two Weeks

I've Enjoyed not having any expectations for my day besides eating, nursing a baby, changing diapers, keeping Asher from squashing Rose, and taking naps.

I've been Grateful for a wonderful mother-in-law who took care of us for almost a week and then graciously "kidnapped" my two-year-old for a few days.

I've Slept. Which is quite the accomplishment for me, considering I didn't sleep more than 24 hours the first two weeks after Asher was born.

I've sat under the apricot tree, Nursed Rose and watched Asher play basketball almost every afternoon.

I've Worn my sweat pants every day and haven't put make-up on for a week.

I've Learned that when my little boy is throwing a tantrum it is most likely because he just wants my attention. It can't be fixed with food or bribes (not even fruit snacks)-- he just needs his mom to hold him. I can do that.

I've Wished almost every day that I was more patient and didn't lose my temper so easily.

I've been Tricked by my little boy. He wants to hold his little sister so much that often tries to distract me (like telling me he wants a drink of water) and then races to the bouncy seat and tries to pick up Rose by himself. She has come pretty close to being dumped on her head. Poor girl.

I've already ventured out by myself, with both kids in tow, and Survived with only minor scrapes and bruises.

I've Realized that in less that four years Jon and I have doubled ourselves. Wow.

I've Eaten meals I didn't have to prepare and for which I didn't have to do the dishes.

I've loved having two children...my life and my soul feel more Complete.

I've been Blessed.

Life Doesn't Get Much Sweeter Than This

All three of us fell asleep on the bed
I got up
and
this is what I left behind.

Rose's Birth Story

"Birth is not an emergency. It is an emergence."

- Unknown

The night before Rose was born I was sitting at our computer finishing writing a blog post when I turned to Jon, who was sitting on the couch doing homework, and said, "Man, it feels like this little girl is trying to push her way out of me!" For the last few minutes she had been pushing her feet against my ribs and it felt like she was wiggling her head in a semi-circle around my pelvis. It was a very strange sensation and she kept hitting nerves in my legs that would make my hip spasm. Jon just laughed and said "maybe she is" and we both left it at that, secretly hoping that he was right but not feeling optimistic because I hadn't been having very many contractions that night. We finally went to bed around 10:30 PM and didn't even bother to clean up the front room and dining room like we normally had been doing before bed, because we figured that she wasn't going to come that night and that we would just clean up in the morning.

I slept really well that night, I didn't even wake up to go to the bathroom, until I woke up at about 4:30 AM with several strong contractions. They were interesting contractions because even though they were fairly strong and uncomfortable, after each one I would get a wave of pure pleasure sensation that rushed through my whole body and made me feel wonderful. For a few minutes I just laid in bed and "rode" the sensation-- focusing on making it through the strong contraction and then relishing in the feeling of pleasure and relaxation that followed. This didn't last very long and soon my legs really started to hurt and I got up to go sit on the toilet. The contractions didn't go away when I stood up, in fact they increased in intensity, and so I realized that this must be the real thing and that I was in labor.

I have to admit that as I sat on the toilet and tried to relax through the strong contractions that I got really scared. These contractions were really strong, stronger than I ever remember having with Asher, and I was having a hard time relaxing through them. I still thought that I had at least 7 or 8 more hours of labor ahead of me (if things went similar to Asher's labor and birth) and started doubting whether I was strong enough to make it through. I sat on the toilet with my hips spread as far apart as I could get and with each contraction pushed my hands into the femoral nerve in my hips to help ease my leg pain. I sat like this, still trying to calm my fears and fill my mind with positive thoughts and affirmations, for about 10-15 minutes until Jon knocked on the door to see if I was alright. I told him that I was but that I thought I was in labor. He just got the biggest smile on his face and in my head I thought "Why are you smiling, this isn't fun."

After getting off the toilet I went downstairs and glanced at the clock which said it was 5:00 AM. I could hear that Jon was already in the shower (I tell you that boy was EXCITED!) but my contractions were getting stronger and I was having a hard time dealing with them by myself so I barged into the bathroom and told Jon "I need you, get out now." So he ran upstairs and got dressed and I put on my bathrobe and my mother shower bracelet-- which really helped me to feel stronger and to think positive thoughts.

Even though the contractions were strong they were REALLY erratic. Jon and I tried timing them but they didn't have any sort of pattern to them. I would get 2 or 3 really strong contraction that were only a minute apart, but then I would get several weak contractions that were about 5 to 10 minutes apart. I was also having pretty intense pain in my legs that didn't go away in between contractions. When we called the midwife (just a little after 5 am) she told us that it sounded like the baby's head was not in the best position and that was probably why my contraction pattern was irregular and why I was getting leg pain. She told me to use the "polar bear position" (laying with your head on the ground and your pelvis up in the air) and to lean over the bed or a birth ball to help open up my pelvis and let the baby move her head into a better position. She said that usually when the baby is in a less than optimal position labor doesn't progress as quickly because the contractions don't dilate the cervix as well. She told us that she would start getting ready and that we should call her in about an hour to let her know how things were progressing.

For the next hour I spent most of my time leaning over the changing table or the couch swaying my hips, in the "polar bear" position on the floor, or leaning over the birth ball. I also found myself talking and singing to the baby a lot. I would tell her "move, baby move" and even made up a little song that went something like "I love you baby, baby come to me, come to me and I'll set you free." Not the most brilliant lyrics ever written but singing to her helped me relax in between the contractions and to feel safe. After awhile the contractions got so strong that I couldn't handle them by myself and needed Jon to squeeze both my hips together as hard as he could. In fact, I found that I couldn't relax through them at all (which I had been able to do with Asher) and the only way I could make it through them was to have Jon squeeze my hips and for me to bellow "HARDER, SQUEEZE HARDER" at him. It was the combination of him pushing back against the contraction and me being able to bellow out some of the intensity that allowed me to emerge on the other side of the contraction still somewhat in control and calm.

It was about this point that I really started to get scared and to doubt that I was going to be able to make it through to the end. I was really discouraged by the thought that because the baby was still in a less than optimal position that these contractions weren't doing much to help me progress. I remember leaning over the birth ball and telling myself, "I could handle this if I only knew that each contraction was doing what it is suppose to" and wanting to cry and give up. It was then that I asked Jon if he would give me a blessing that everything would be alright. In between contractions I knelt in the polar bear position and he put his hands on my head and gave me one of the most amazing and beautiful blessings I've ever received. I wish I could remember everything that was said, but I do remember the amazing peace I felt. I also remember that in the blessing I was told that Heavenly Father was aware of me, that everything would be alright, that I was not alone, and that He had sent angels to be with me and my baby.

It wasn't long after the blessing, probably around 6:30 AM, that I felt the baby move down and the pain in my legs eased up and knew that she had moved into a better position. Up until this point my contractions had still been erratic and inconsistent, but once she moved her head into position they started to take on a more consistent pattern. We talked with the midwife again and told her that things seemed to become more consistent and that I had had a little bleeding when I sat on the toilet. She said that this was a good sign as it meant that my cervix was dilating and she said that she would be there as soon as she could. She also said that it was okay for me to get in the birth pool if I wanted (which I did!) as long as I got out if my contractions slowed down or stopped.

Somehow, in the midst of squeezing my hips through every contraction and talking with the midwife, my amazing husband managed to get the birth pool all blown up and filled with water. Actually at one point I remember he was having a hard time getting the liner on the pool and asked me if I could come help him. I remember thinking he was totally crazy to be asking me to do anything at that point and gave him a look of death. But in the end I did end up holding the edge of the liner for second while he got it pulled on.

Basically... Jon was amazing. He was there for me with his strong arms and his loving touch through almost every contraction. He didn't once get flustered or upset by my constant command of "SQUEEZE HARDER", even though sometimes I could feel his arms shaking. There are only two times I remember having to go through a contraction alone-- because he was running the pump for the pool and didn't hear me call for him. And during one of those contractions I know for certain that I wasn't alone. Right at the peak of one of my hardest and longest contractions, when Jon wasn't able to be there for me, I looked down at my hand and felt that someone was holding it. I knew at that moment that what Jon said in the blessing was true, God was aware of me and there were angels with me.

Jon helped me get into my sports bra (for Asher's birth I didn't wear one and later regretted it because then I couldn't show the pictures to anyone) and into the tub. The water was really hot because it wasn't all the way full yet, but I didn't want to wait any longer to get in. The hot water was amazing and relaxed my body all over. In fact, I almost didn't feel the first two contractions I had in the water because I was so relaxed. By this time it was about 7:00 in the morning and Asher was still asleep upstairs. We had two friends who had offered to come get Asher and watch him while I was in labor, but Jon had tried calling both of them and neither one of them answered their phones. I think that one of our angels must have been upstairs keeping Asher asleep because the last few mornings he had been waking up around 6:15 AM, but even with all the commotion Jon and I were making Asher miraculously stayed asleep until about 7:10 AM.

When Asher woke up Jon brought him down and he was super excited about there being a swimming pool in the middle of our living room. He kept trying to get into it and when he finally realized that he wasn't going to be able to he took to hammering it with his hammer. He was really sweet to me and gave me several adorable love pats and kisses in between my contractions.

I really only had 5 or 6 contractions in the birth pool before I felt like I needed to start pushing. I called for Jon, who had just put Asher into his high chair and gotten him a bowl of rice crispies, and he came over and held my hands while I squatted. Jon called the midwife and I remember hearing "Um... Heather (midwife's name) are you close because she is pushing." He was so incredibly calm and didn't seem panicked or worried in the least bit, and he told me later that he wasn't because he knew that I could do it and knew that everything was going to be alright. He told me "That is what your body is made to do... and it did it... what was there to be scared about." Yeah... I think I married the world's most AMAZING man. The midwife was still about 20 minutes away and Jon kept her on the phone as I held his hands and gave some more big pushes. I felt my water break in a little "poof"and then two pushes later I felt her head crowning. I reached down and felt her head pushing against my hand, (Jon reached down and felt her too) and then on the next contraction I gave one really big push and her head flowed out of me. Up until now I had been so engulfed in the sensations of birth-- the intensity of the contractions and the all encompassing urge to push-- that the fact that my baby was coming right then and there, without the midwife, hadn't really penetrated my psyche. But once her head was out I realized what was happening and had a couple seconds of anxiety. I know that since babies don't breathe until they take their first breath of air and because they are still attached to the placenta, that it is okay for them to be underwater but in the excitement of the moment I forgot that and started to worry about her head being in the water. I tried giving several pushes, but without a contraction my efforts were pretty much useless. The midwife was still on the phone and was able to reassure me that everything was fine and that I just needed to be patient and that the rest of the body would come out on the next contraction.

There is really no stranger feeling in this world than to look down and see that you have a baby half in and half out of you. It is a point all women reach at some point when they give birth, but with Asher's birth I wasn't as aware of it as I was this time. This time I had a few minutes to look down at the head I was holding in my hands and appreciate what an amazing thing I was a part of. I realized that for those few minutes my baby was in between heaven and earth and that I was a wide open portal between them. It was an amazing feeling and one of the most surreal experiences of my life.

With my next contraction I felt the rest of her body flow out of me and I reached down into the water and pulled her up into my arms. She was really alert and peaceful. She didn't cry at all, she just looked up at me for a few moments with big eyes and then closed them again and nestled into my arms. The midwife asked us about her coloring, reflexes and appearance and said from what she could tell over the phone that she sounded healthy and strong-- which she verified when she got there a few minutes later. Jon came over and put his arms around me and we both just stared at our amazing little girl. She was so peaceful and even started to snore a little! Then we started to hear a sweet little "mama? mama?" coming from the high chair and Jon went and brought Asher over to meet his little sister. He was entranced by her and kept telling us "baby, baby" and Jon helped him lean over and give her a little kiss. It was such a sweet moment.

I can't even begin to explain the feeling that filled that room as we huddled there together as a family for the first time. There really are no other words but "sacred" and "holy" to describe how it felt. Even though we weren't planning on having Asher there for the birth I am really glad that he was, because I know that he felt and understood the intense amount of love and peace that filled our house for those few minutes. And I know that we could all feel the presence of the angels who were watching over us. It has actually been hard for me to share this birth experience with others because it was so sacred and beautiful, and my words never come close to being able to describe what it felt like or what it meant to me.

Only about 5 or 6 minutes after the baby was born my friend Elizabeth, who we had called to come pick up Asher, came in the back door. I was still in the pool and Jon and Asher were huddled around the baby when we looked up and saw her tiptoeing into the room. She was shocked to see a baby in my arms and almost immediately started to cry. She told me afterward that, "the feeling in the room was incredible" and that she was honored to be a part of our special moment. She hadn't meant to intrude, she was just there to get Asher, but we ended up being really grateful that she came because we had planned on having Jon's mom at the birth but she was still an hour away when the baby was born. It was nice to have Elizabeth there to take pictures, run the video camera, and keep Asher entertained until my mother-in-law arrived. Jon's cousin Mindy, who was the other person we had called to come get Asher, also arrived before the midwife did and was shocked to find that I had already had the baby. She offered to take Asher but we were enjoying having him there so she left but came back later with a huge platter of french toast, juice and fruit.

The midwife arrived about 10 minutes after the baby was born and helped to deliver the placenta and get me and the baby all cleaned up. We got out of the pool and Jon and the midwife got me get dressed and settled onto the couch (with plenty of liners and pads under me) with my baby. She started to nurse right away and I was surprised by how hungry she was! I think Jon must pass on the "good eating" gene in this family because both of my kids have been able to tuck it away like pros right from the start! I was also surprised at how good I felt after this birth compared to Asher's. After Asher's birth I was really tired (I pushed for over an hour) and remember thinking "I don't want to do that again", but this time I felt like I could ride a bike to the moon and back. My body felt strong, my mind felt strong, and my spirit felt stronger than it ever had.

Even though things didn't go quite like we expected, Rose's birth was so amazing that I wouldn't change one thing about how it turned out. Her birth has brought Jon and I closer together and has made us stronger partners and parents. Every once in awhile we look at each other and we get big grins on our face remembering how together, here in our house, with no one to witness it except Asher, we delivered our own precious little girl into the world. Rose's birth has also given me so much more confidence in myself and in my body. I am simply awestruck by the amazing power my body has and when I look at myself in the mirror I think, "Wow, this is a body that has created, birthed and fed two other human beings". I understand now, more than I ever have before, how important it is to respect, honor and love my body. I've also felt more confidence in myself as a woman and as a mother. I feel like if I can deliver my own baby then there isn't anything in the world that I can't do with God's help. During her birth I got a brief glimpse into eternity and realized who I am and what I am capable of... and that has made me a different woman. I am so honored to be the mother to this beautiful little girl. She is has an amazing spirit and I so excited to get to know her better. But I do have the feeling that she is going to be keeping me on my toes for the rest of her life!