near miss

The sickening thud that results from a child on an uncontrolled trajectory that ends in collision with a hard surface is one of those unmistakable sounds that every parent probably hears at least once never wants to.

In the moments that follow such a calamity, there are questions coming rapid-fire.  Is she hurt?  Is she OK?  Is something broken?  Should we take her for x-rays? 

Please, Lord.  Grant me wisdom to know how to handle this situation.  And please hold me together so I can help her.  

I like to think that I'm pretty good under pressure at such times, but I know I'm toeing the line when one of my bambini is injured.  For example, the two-year-old lass took a spill off a window seat cushion this afternoon in the midst of an otherwise delightful afternoon of happy family fun time.  After that terrible sound, there came the cries of a little girl in pain.  She held her arm tightly against her side.  She had landed on it, and right away the area around her elbow began to turn purple.

I went running for some ice and Arnica Montana, a homeopathic remedy indicated for bruises, muscle soreness, and traumatic injuries that we keep on hand.  We refer to it as "bonk medicine".  We scooped her up and snuggled her close.  My beloved -- aka "Dr. Dad" -- fashioned a sling out of a tea towel and tucked some ice and a baby doll inside.  She could still move her arm without much pain, but we still worried and wondered.

After a little downtime she was back up and playing, using the arm with little noticeable difficulty.  She seems to be doing OK.  We'll of course keep an eye on it.

There have been a few other times when one of the bambini has been injured when I really wrestled to discern the need to seek emergency medical attention on their behalf.  (The younger lad can claim most of these.) After the dust had settled in each case, as I did today, I can't help but conjure up images in my mind of how that would play out, and it's never a good feeling.  What if it had been worse?  Oh, how I can work myself up over such uncertainties.

Scary though it may be to think about, there is little good to come out of fretting about things that haven't happened.  It's important to be prepared, because accidents happen.  We can take every reasonable precaution to secure our bambini's safety, but we can't keep them from ever getting hurt.

So I tell myself when I'm not holding a child in pain after falling just out of my arm's reach doing something she's done a thousand times before and likely will many more times to come.

Perhaps the day will come when we will need to summon help for some medical crisis.  God forbid something like that should happen, but if it does, I pray for the courage to be the strong mother the hurting child will depend on to secure that medical care as well as offer the comfort that only comes from Dr. Mom.

a different kind of marathon

Some people train for and run marathons.*  I gave birth (the fourth time around) drug-free.

It was a decision I came to after much prayer, preparation, and experience with medicated births.  I am, in a way, reticent to bring it up, but compelled to do so today, the raven-haired lass's half birthday, both to preserve my memory of it and to serve as an encouragement to other mothers.

By divulging this, I'm not looking for adulation or trying to make any mother who gave birth medicated feel like she worked any less than I did to bring her child(ren) into the world.  I am not.  It's not meant to be a publicity maneuver.   I've thought about posting this story on each month-iversary since the raven-haired lass was born, but I'm still not sure I have the chutzpah to do it.   But here goes...

When I learned our fourth child was on the way, I thought long and hard about his or her birth and how I wanted it to transpire.  The fourth time around, I did *not* want an epidural with its attendant medical interventions and after-effects.  That was the jumping-off point for me reading The Birth Book by Dr. William Sears and his wife Martha, a nurse, and Dr. Robert Bradley's Husband-Coached Childbirth (he being the namesake of the Bradley Birth method), as well as reading accounts online of and conversing in real life with women who'd given birth drug-free.  I thought through the entire labor process, reconciling myself with the idea of "pain with a purpose," an idea that the pain of childbirth has a very real and noble purpose, *and* that it does have an end.   

I still hadn't decided to commit to a drug-free childbirth, however, because I just wasn't convinced I could handle it.  Of course I knew women had done so for the entire course of history, but I wasn't confident I was up to the mental and physical challenge.

As the day of my due date approached and then passed, the prospect of induction became more and more probable.  I knew I would likely not be up to the challenge of an induced labor without pain relief (as I reasoned here), so I'd already arranged to have an epidural if I needed it but could forego it as well at my discretion.

The night before I was scheduled to be induced, the contractions I'd been having for over a week finally organized into a consistent, progressive fashion.  By the time my beloved and I arrived at the hospital for our induction appointment, I was far enough along on my own to do without interventions.  I decided then to go for the drug-free birth.

I took it one contraction at a time.  During each one, I'd only allow myself to think about breathing in and out.  As the contractions each built in intensity, I focused on relaxing everything except that which was contracting, and visualized the contraction building like a wave, cresting, then dissipating.  I repeated to myself something I'd read in reference to the girl I knew undergoing treatment for a malignant brain tumor whose motto for the physical fitness classes she taught was "I can do anything for one minute." That's about the length of each contraction -- a minute or so.  Then I'd have a few minutes to regroup before the next one.  I prayed for God's mercy upon the pain I was experiencing, and tried to offer it to him for the sake of my unborn child.  My beloved was with me as I labored both at home and in the hospital.

I did reach a point, as I'd read I likely would, when I'd had enough.  I knew that meant it was nearly over, and I prayed even more fervently for mercy and a speedy (yet safe) delivery.  There were moments when I felt I was about to lose my cool, but with the help of my beloved, my obstetrician, and the nurses gathered 'round, I hung in there.

As soon as the lass made her entrance, it was just as I'd read and heard it would be.  The pain was gone.  In its place was jubilation.  I was so thrilled to meet our lass, to check her out from tip to toe.  I felt a rush of endorphins (though I was worn out!), and, more so than when I'd been medicated, I was able to soak up everything happening around me.  I bonded with the lass instantly, and my physical recovery was overall much speedier than from those births for which I'd had epidurals.  I was up and around not too long after she was born.

Every birth is a miracle -- and a tremendous accomplishment for the mother who brings to birth the child she has carried in her womb for ordinarily somewhere in the vicinity of 40 weeks.  Whatever the circumstances surrounding the birth of a child are, each child is a gift from God; each mother is given the grace of God to be that child's mother and bring it to birth; and each child is his or her own unique person to be treasured and respected as one of God's own children.

Having said all that, when an expectant mother considers the impending and inevitable birth of her child, she has a lot to think about and many choices to make as to how she wishes the miraculous event to transpire.  Babies will come on their own terms, so the plans a mother makes may very well go out the window should medical necessity warrant, but she should still make a plan for her baby's birth and prepare herself for it to both go according to plan or not.

Deciding to deliver our raven-haired lass drug-free was a long time coming for me.  I wasn't mentally prepared to undertake such a challenge until this pregnancy.  I know it was God's grace that provided the "mental toughness" (as my dad calls it) to see me through the experience.

Our darling clementine has been a jolly, peaceful little lass from the beginning, and I can't help but wonder if part of that is owing to the manner in which she made her entrance into this world.

Mothers are designed to bring their babies to birth naturally.  There are many factors influencing each delivery, and each woman is different.  I pray each expectant mother receives the attentive and skilled pre-natal care she and her unborn baby deserve.  May each pair be surrounded by the love and care of family, friends, and care givers, enabling them to bring about safe, healthy deliveries each and every time, in whatever setting and manner deemed best for that particular mother and child.

*As for running marathons -- not me, no thank you.  I could never do that.

not-so-fun Fridays

We've spent these past three Fridays (and a few other days too in this same time frame) in a doctor's office or urgent care setting -- not for anything especially urgent, though.  The six of us have all fallen prey to The Sniffles over the past ten days or so, with resulting ear infections for some.  Others of us have had brushes with other infections that required immediate attention so as to not develop into something more serious.  Though we are collectively improving, some of us are still rather like faucets (including Mama and the raven-haired lass).

So much sniffling and time spent in doctors' offices has worn Mama down, but considering the relatively minor ailments afflicting us, I am filled with humility and gratitude for our overall good health.  We're redoubling our hand-washing efforts and stocking up our apothecary shop with probiotics, vitamins, and natural remedies like cranberry juice in an effort to restore us to vitality and its accompanying vim and vigor (or something like that).

But for now, here's hoping to catch up on some sleep...

familiar territory

I come from a long line of slow cookers.  Our babies pay nary a moment's notice to that day circled on the calendar as the "expected date of delivery".  They couldn't care less about that.  The lads both came nine days after that day, and the lass six.  My Grannie's babies were nine days late (except Aunt Robin, who came nine days early), my mom was "late", and I myself was a few *weeks* tardy (sorry, Mama).

Today I am five days "overdue".

I've been down this road before.  I know the people in this neighborhood, so to speak.  Being as familiar as I am with being past the 40 week mark, I am both (more than) ready to meet this fourth baby and reconciled to that meeting happening later rather than sooner.  I am not one to resort to induction.  I've been induced, and I've gone into labor on my own.  I'd *much* rather go the latter route.  It makes for a much better experience for both mama and baby, since it's more in keeping with the body's natural rhythm and (for me, anyway) far more manageable, both mentally and physically.  With an induction, Pitocin (the drug administered to bring on contractions) is in charge.  In spontaneous labor, the mama is.

"Spontaneous" is probably not a word my loved ones would use to describe me. 

This is why I was so surprised to go into labor on my own with the lass after having the lads by (reluctant) way of Pitocin (used to "augment" labor with the elder lad and induce it with the younger).  After the vastly different, far better experience that third labor was, I've been committed to doing what I can to replicate it this fourth time and avoid induction.

This is not to say I will refuse induction warranted by medical necessity.  I'm just not in a hurry to schedule one to "get it over with," knowing as I do the difference in the journeys and preferring the more natural one.   Fortunately, my OB is of similar mind in this regard, which is one of the reasons I like her. 

So while there is no one who is more anxious ready to see Quattro face to face than I am, I will take the remaining time before that moment to rest, pray, and prepare to care for another soul.

creative license

Trying to involve the bambini in my many creative interests is something I've always tried to do, although the most obvious one -- playing the piano -- I don't do as much as I would like to.  It's really one of my greatest outlets for expression, but I find it very difficult to focus on a piece of repertoire while managing the scene with the bambini.  We do sometimes noodle around together.

I like to sew and take on other crafty projects as well as play the piano, but I am saving many of the ideas I concoct or read about for a season when the bambini are less dependent upon my constant attention.  I know that time will come. 

While it might appear that I've left the creative scene of music-making and writing that was my daily occupation for a long time -- and there are times when I really miss that, I realize that that the most worthwhile and significant creative pursuit I can and do make is the purposeful, attentive, and loving minute-to-minute care and interaction with my bambini.

I take creative license in

• tinkering with drinkable yogurt recipes, 
• spelling out acceptable avenues for hammering inside, 
• finding ways to integrate our faith into the fabric of our daily lives, 
• cultivating virtues in all of us by (attempting to) balance the needs and interests of the three bambini all at once,
• doing something literally creative with the bambini like baking or an art project, 
• getting the instruments out and having a "concert"
• researching and testing natural means of home and health care, and (among other ways)
• coming up with a response to the younger lad's bedtime request to "tell me about tarantulas, Mama"  (answer: "how about I tell you about the night you were born?"  "No thanks -- tell me about tarantulas."  "Daddy knows more about tarantulas than I do.  I try to stay far away from them.")

But while that might be true, this creative mama has a few other irons in the fire.  This online chronicle and its sister foodie venture are two such examples.  I often have the camera out, trying to capture the everyday moments as they unfold in still pictures and videos.  I don't take a lot of posed shots (that's one of those exercises in futility); instead I take lots of shots, hope a few of them turn out, and revel in the creative challenge of captioning those few "keepers".  I've also taken to writing something down about each child in my daily agenda every day -- something they say or do or some milestone they've passed or something about which they were excited or even symptoms of sickness or other indicators of something amiss.  Far from a full-out scrapbook (let's not even broach the subject of baby books), but at least it's a little something to mark the ways -- big and small -- in which they grow and change each day. (It's actually something my mother has done for a long time.  It's always a hoot to read back through the daily doings of a few months -- or years -- ago.)

I may not have complete control over my time and how I spend it during this season of our family life, but with a little creativity, I hope to mark the passage of this tender time while fostering the development of each soul entrusted to my care.

apothecary shop

Allergy season is really giving us -- like so many others -- some trouble around here.  To show for it, we have a veritable apothecary of over-the-counter and prescription medicines, supplements like probiotics to help offset the tummy-upsetting effects of antibiotics, and vitamins.  One lad is on antibiotics to treat an ear infection that resulted from his allergy flare up, the other lad has an antibiotic eye drop to clear up an infection in his eye that seems to have developed from his allergies, and all three bambini now take an over-the-counter allergy remedy each night before bed.  This is in addition to the vitamins they take to maintain general health.

To keep all this straight, I've made a list of what each child is taking, how frequently, how much, and for how long, and we make tick marks on either the bottle of antibiotics or a piece of paper each time prescriptions are dispensed.  The organizer in me wants to make a chart for a more visually-enhanced experience.  I wonder if that might be overdoing it.  Probably not.

Having been through two stints of allergy shots myself and experiencing great improvement in my seasonal allergy suffering, I am no stranger to the allergy scene.  The shots helped, though, and I have been off allergy medication entirely for several years.  We live in one of the "allergy capitals" of the country, and this year is one of the worst seasons by way of pollen counts and their effects on allergies. Fresh off antibiotics myself to clear up a sinus infection, now I've got a similar eye ailment affecting the younger lad.  My beloved is also feeling the effects of the proliferation of allergens.

Whenever possible, we try to heal ailments with natural remedies such as buckwheat honey for coughs (at our pediatrician's recommendation), nasal saline rinses for clearing sinuses (though I haven't brought myself to trying a neti pot, which has garnered a lot of media attention this year), and homeopathic remedies.  We try to avoid using antibiotics unless absolutely necessary (but will when warranted).  Ever the obsessive label reader, when we must resort to over-the-counter medications, I try to find the ones that are dye-free and contain the fewest preservatives and ancillary (or "inactive") ingredients.  Side effects are something we take into consideration when deciding whether to start a new medication.

The worst part for me is seeing the bambini suffering, like last night when the younger lad coughed so hard he threw up, or when we're having to administer medication that is unpleasant for them to receive (like his eye drops -- how he loathes them).  My heart goes out to those people and families who face constant and far greater suffering than we do.   We are very grateful for our overall good health and place a premium on nourishing ourselves well to maintain it. 

Here in our little home pharmacy, we hope to dispense with the dispensing of medications as soon as the allergen heyday for such things as tree pollens and grasses tapers off.  Until then, I'm going to be monitoring our supply of tissue and tinkering with my chart to get it just so.  I'll probably get it that way just when the need for it is ending.  And that will be fine by me...

unsolicited advice

We are expecting our fourth child sometime in mid- to late July.  Our elder lad thinks it will be another sister, but my father-in-law thinks it's a boy.  We shall see.  We have been surprised by the gender of each of our three children in the delivery room and anticipate another surprise.  After feeling *certain* that my second lad was in fact a girl the entire time I was gestating him, I think my intuition has been disabled.  I have no idea which gender our newest babe is.

Pregnant mamas are prime targets for unsolicited advice (though admittedly I haven't attracted quite so much this fourth time around).   Three children born within three and a half years of each other (the fourth is due about a month after our elder lad's fifth birthday) mean that I have gleaned some insights into how to manage the roller coaster of tummy troubles that I ridden with each pregnancy.  If these insights can be of any benefit to anyone else, this post will have served its purpose.

** Remember: I'm a pianist -- not a doctor -- so this is all based on what I've read and what I've experienced personally in this particular season of my mothering journey. **

I struggle with "morning" (more like all-day) sickness throughout each pregnancy.  My bambini in utero didn't seem to notice us having passed the first trimester mark; I was sick pretty much most of the time for the first three, and I have a prescription nausea drug that I'm taking now (as I have for two of the previous three pregnancies) that takes the edge off and helps me maintain some functionality.

I've read about (and experienced) links between "morning" sickness and blood sugar as well as morning sickness serving to dissuade pregnant mamas from eating foods that are allergenic or otherwise potentially harmful.  But when one has been spending not quality but quantity time with the commode and just can't seem to make the room stop spinning, what is there to do?

Being proactive goes a long way.  The main thing for me is to always have something in my stomach.  If I get hungry, I often get sick.  Eating is often the last thing I feel like doing when I'm nauseated, but ironically, sometimes it's what helps turn the tide, a little bit at a time.

For me, protein is very important.  Favorites of mine have included yogurt, cottage cheese, eggs (hardboiled or scrambled), other kinds of cheese, milk, nuts, beef, etc.  It's very important for me to moderate my intake of carbohydrates (even like cereals and bread) and try to have protein along with any carbs I'm eating.  Along those lines, fruits like apples and grapes treat me better than sugary things. And the adage to eat what sounds good often holds true for me, with the premise that the body craves what it needs.  When the cravings are for greasy, fried, sugary, or otherwise not-so-healthy things, I try to temper them by having a little but not too much. 

French toast, whole wheat pancakes with cinnamon for blood sugar stability, and breakfast casserole work well for me as breakfast (or anytime).  Some favorite homemade snacks of mine include chocolate peanut butter granola and breakfast cookies. 

I've always been inclined toward motion sickness, and ginger helps quell the nausea (except when I'm pregnant, when oddly it isn't as effective; it might be different for other women, though).  I take it in capsule form.  I find it at the health food store, but pharmacies may have it over the counter.  I've also read that B vitamins, especially B6 (I think -- remember what I said about not being a doctor) can be very helpful with nausea.  There are also these things called "sea bands" that I tried when I was pregnant with our elder lad.  I hadn't quite figured out the whole carb/nausea link then, though, and they weren't as helpful for me as I hear they are for other women.

When nausea gives way to heartburn, I've found papaya enzyme tablets *very* helpful, even more so that Tums.  Similarly, pineapple -- especially fresh, but canned is OK too -- helps with digestion.  Sounds weird, I know, but a nutritionist told me that.  The acids in the fruits help break down the food.  And lying on my left side sometimes helps when my tummy is upset.  I read somewhere that the stomach drains on the left side, so lying that way can help it do its thing.  (Sometimes I even try this with my newborns if they seem to be reflux-y or experiencing tummy troubles of other stripes.)

Riding the pregnancy sickness wave can be exhausting, but keeping things in perspective is key to survival.  One mama friend once told me that she was sick throughout several healthy pregnancies, but not during the one she ended up sadly miscarrying.  Whatever physical illness and discomfort we go through gestating these children God entrusts to us is, hopefully, temporary, relieved soon after delivery.  I know several mamas who have struggled with the sickness and physical unpleasantries of pregnancy who would be quick to say that the children they have since birthed have been worth all the toil.

I'm one of those mamas.

*sniff*

We find ourselves once again in the throes of The Sniffles.  Once it hits our family, we're pretty much in for a long run with it.  Once anyone's nose starts running, I start taking zinc and vitamin C in an effort to bolster my own immunity.  I did that, but I still ended up sick.   So it goes.

Always on the lookout for holistic and natural remedies for that which ails us, I gleaned a lot of good ideas from Kellymom.com.  It's a must-bookmark for nursing mamas like me, and the remedies suggested can also be used for children and anyone else looking for relief as naturally as possible. The site is a treasure trove of information for nursing mamas and those who might be nursing mamas and those who love and live with nursing mamas.

As it turns out, the elder lad has been diagnosed with some allergies (hardly surprising, given his genetics and the part of the country we inhabit), and the baby girl just cut her fourth tooth.   These revelations are reassuring to a mama wondering if she needs to be sanitizing every door handle and drawer pull (probably not a bad idea anyway).

Thankfully, we are on the mend.   And really, ours have been such slight sufferings in comparison with those who suffer greatly on an ongoing basis.  We offer these small sufferings for our own and each other's sanctification, as well as that of those for whom no one else is praying. 

When taking care of little ones (sniffly or not, and particularly while I too am ailing), I often think of the line from Rachel Field's Prayer for a Child:

"Bless the hands that never tire
In their loving care of me."

This is a powerful reminder to me of how my treatment of my bambini can reflect (or, God forbid, obscure) the love Christ has for each of them.

May the sufferings we experience bring us closer to Christ, ever more aware of our dependence upon Him, knowing that grace and blessings flow freely from such loving hands.