Grey and Louise, a Love Story

Grey and Louise love each other. They love each other more than any of my other children love each other. I suspect they love each other more than either of them love their parents.
I find, my feelings aren't hurt.

Grey was reading out loud to Louise, and I pulled out my camera. I love the natural evolution of pictures here.

As Grey read, he became distracted by Louise and started talking sweet to her and trying to make her smile.

He (obviously) was forced to abandon his book, and pay more attention to her. And give her kisses.

Also, as a bonus: I try to take pictures of my children and they try to be as annoyed by it as possible.
Little do they know, I even love their annoyed faces.

How I love this young man boy!

Five Months Old + A Baby Blessing

Like magic, Louise continues to grow bigger. I recently was thinking: babies get cuter, smarter, funnier, more fun, easier, and better at everything as they get older.

And yet, those first few months are still somehow the best months of all. 

I'm trying to not be a really giant drama queen every time Louise crashes through another milestone, but it's tough. 

At five months old, she is so happy. I love these pictures, because I feel like they're so accurate to her personality. She is constantly smiling, chatting, and trying to get the attention of the people around her. She doesn't like being held facing me, she always wants to look around! She is definitely an extrovert, she gets excited and happy whenever we are with people. In Sunday School, our class sits in a circle and she sits on my lap. When she's awake, she spends the whole hour looking around the room, panting in excitement, and occasionally bursting into excited laughter. She's so happy to be surrounded by smiling people!

She laughs and giggles very easily, almost constantly- especially at her brothers. They can make her laugh much harder than Travis or I can. She loves her brothers and doesn't mind if they flop her around or are too rough or too noisy. She loves it all! Soon she'll be wrestling and crawling after them. 

On a few occasions when she's been face to face with other babies her size, she gets so excited! She starts panting and trying frantically to grab on to them. I predict she'll be one of those girls who loves baby dolls.
She is basically a baby doll, too. Everywhere we go, little girls come out of the walls and inch up to see her. "Oh! What a pretty baby! Can I hold her?" is something I hear every single time we leave the house. She has those big blue eyes and rosy cheeks that make her irresistible.

She still only has two teeth, and isn't mobile. She can sit up by herself, but gets tired or loses her balance within about 10  minutes. She can roll (and does instantly) when she's on her stomach, but hasn't figured out back to front yet. She doesn't like tummy time, and get frustrated with me very quickly (as pictured!) if I keep flipping her back over on to her stomach. 

Louise is getting very good at grabbing things, and her favorite things to hold on to are her toes and our fingers - all of which go right into her mouth. She's not as drooly as my other kids, but she is just as anxious to eat as they are. She gets very offended if we dare to eat in front of her without handing over our food. 

She chews on apple slices, watermelon, and bananas while we eat. The bananas are her favorite thing in the whole world- but slippery! So everytime she drops her banana, she SCREECHES. Also, she can scream SO loudly, and she does it when she is clearly not hurt, but angry. I'm a little worried about my ability to deal with future toddler-tantrums from this one!
She is a pretty good sleeper- amazing during the day, usually taking 2 three-hour naps! At nigh she sleeps about 12 hours, but wakes up twice to nurse. Which means I'm still getting up every night at 1am and 4am. But she sleeps so well in between eating and goes to sleep without any help, so I can't let her cry it out or anything. She obviously knows how to self-soothe and is actually hungry!

A few weeks ago, she was finally blessed at church! Mormons traditionally do a baby blessing when babies are a few weeks or months old. Similar to a Christening, it's a public prayer given in front of our congregation- typically given by the baby's father. Travis gave a really sweet blessing, and our families were able to come and participate. 

Some of the things Travis said in his prayer were that Louise would grow and develop normally and to be strong and happy.  That she would develop spiritually, find her talents, desires and purpose in this life and use them to build the kingdom of God.  He blessed her with a desire to serve and be aware of the needs of others around her, and to find joy doing so.  To love the scriptures and rely on inspiration of the Spirit and the leaders of the Church. And to have a desire to make and keep covenants pertaining to the gospel and help with the building of the kingdom of God.

Louise with her Dad and both Grandpas on her blessing day. 

Louise Mae - Four Months Old

I am feeling mom-guilt over the fact that Louise's milestones are not being recorded as obsessively as the boys' milestones (or, you know, at all.)

She is already four months old and I haven't told you anything about her!
So here are some pictures that I took of her on Easter. She is such a cheerful, smiley baby! But like most babies, those smiles are replaced with concerned eyebrows when the big camera comes out.
Louise at four months, she has rolled over a few times and can "sit up" for a few seconds at a time- though not as well as August could. She weighs about 15 pounds, and is in the 90th percentile for height, weight, and head size! (For proof, please observe those THIGHS.)



She is so drooly, and loves to have things in her mouth. She grabs things (like blankets, fingers, pacis) and then attacks them with the cutest little baby-lion noises and faces. She chews on things with ferocious glee! And no wonder- she already has TWO TEETH!
The two teeth on the bottom came in at about 3 and a half months. I was so surprised- not only because she is so young, but because she exhibited no signs of discomfort. She wasn't fussy, up at night, or feverish. In fact, she slept better than usual the nights before each tooth popped in! I guess she was using up all her energy being happy while in pain, and needed extra rest.
She is very quiet and observant, rarely fussy or sad. She watches us all the time, her little eyes following everything that we do. She makes all these funny little sounds and facial expressions like she's trying to copy us speaking. And I'm sure that she understands many things that I say, like when I ask: "Are you hungry?" and she starts to hyperventilate in excitement!
When Louise is sad- she SCREAMS. She screams like it's on purpose and she's punishing us for letting her get hurt. She really only screams when she is in the backseat by herself, without any brothers to look at her, or when one of the boys accidentally hurts her- as has unfortunately happened several times.

She hates to be in the carseat, but if a big brother sits by her and hold her pacifier in, she calms down almost instantly and watches him until she falls asleep. She loves her brothers and they can get her to laugh more easily than Travis or I. She often squeals for joy at seeing them and instantly calms down if she is sad. As I am writing this, she woke up from her nap. I know that she is hungry and ready to eat, but instead of helping her- I sent Micah in to entertain her. I can hear giggles from both of them!
Louise is still entirely breastfed. She's a good eater and eats every 3-5 hours, day or night. I'm ready for her to sleep through the night, but she's still so little and nice that I don't mind when she gets up.

Louise Mae (part 2 - Birth Story)

(As you may notice, this says Part 2- that's because Louise's story started a year and a half ago, when we felt prompted that I should become pregnant. If you'd like to read that part of the story- scroll down to the post before this one. This post is the story of her birth.)

Louise is one month old, so here is her birth story.

Months before Louise was born, I had decided to try and have her without drugs, and had read a lot about pain free, gentle, natural births. I also knew so many women with beautiful, gentle birth stories. I was (and am!) convinced that I had PTSD from the trauma of Grey and Micah's emergency c-section and that the fear and expectation of pain and trauma from that led me to an extra long and painful birth with August. My labor with him constantly shut-down, my contractions were terrible but I made no progress, I pushed for THREE HOURS. I am sure that my own fear and expectations made my body react in negative ways when I labored with him.

So I spent most of my pregnancy with Louise trying to rid myself of the fear of that happening again and telling myself that birth was natural, beautiful- a gift to women and not a punishment. So when I began having contractions on Wednesday morning, I felt very hopeful. They were uncomfortable, but not painful. They mostly made me feel like I was constipated. I wondered if they were contractions at all, or just stomach cramps - since everyone in my house had a stomach bug! The boys were feeling poorly too, so we snuggled and watched A Muppet Christmas Carol and I tried not to time my "stomach cramps," since I'd been timing contractions for weeks and getting my hopes up only to have them dashed.
At about 11 am, I asked to have some private time in my room. I went into my bed and listened to Iron and Wine and practiced breathing. I started timing my contractions and was disappointed that they were still fairly irregular 5-7 minutes apart. But they were also becoming very strong. I texted Travis at work and asked him to come home. I said, "I'm probably not really in labor, but I do feel very poorly. I wish you'd come home and give me a blessing either way."
He got home around 12:30 and my contractions STILL were only 5-7 minutes apart, it even seemed like they were slowing down! I was disappointed and asked him to just lie down with me for a while. He instantly fell asleep, while I dozed for an hour or so.
(Meanwhile, my wonderful mother and sister Katie were taking care of the boys, so they didn't bother us.) I had stopped timing my contractions again, but when I couldn't sleep through them anymore- I began timing them. There were still some gaps of 5 or 6 minutes between contractions, but most were coming 2-3 minutes apart! Since I still wasn't in pain and they weren't consistent, I was suspicious that my labor hadn't really started. But since I was two days past Louise's due date, I decided we should head to the hospital.
We checked into the hospital at about 4pm. As I signed in, the nurse asked "Would you like to be medicated or unmedicated?"
I said, "I'd like to be unmedicated, but I don't have high hopes that I can do it. I'm not sure I'm in even in labor."
"Is this your first baby?" he asked, "And when is your due date?"
"It's my fourth baby and my due date was two days ago!" I said. Geez! My fourth baby and I don't even know what labor feels like?
They led me into the "unmedicated room," I could still get drugs if I needed them, but this room was equipped with a birthing ball, rocking chair, squat bar, jacuzzi tub and more! I settled into bed while they checked me. I asked not to be told what I was dilated to- only to be told if I was making progress and if it looked like I was "really in labor."
Maybe being two days overdue had made me feel that I would be pregnant forever, but I was convinced that they'd send me home or I would be at the hospital for 20 hours before I delivered- like I was with August.
(However, I did actually overhear my doctor say that I was at 4, which encouraged me. A 4 was progress!)
They checked me, registered me with the hospital, and I was visited by my doctor -who said he was going home for dinner, but wanted to be constantly updated. I needed to be given an antibiotic because I'd tested positive for Group B Strep, so after three nurses failed to get an IV into me- they called down an anesthesiologist to prick my tiny veins. I was still feeling fairly good, my contractions weren't that painful or close (every 4 minutes or so) and I was easily distracted by teasing the anesthesiologist and talking to my nurse about her twin-grandbabies.
I needed to be monitored constantly, because I was having a VBAC, so I stayed in bed watching my contractions being printed out on a chart.
I got the antibiotic at 6, but it needed a double dose to be effective. So I was supposed to take it again at 10pm (4 hours later.)
Then it was quiet for about two hours. Travis and I watched X Files on the iPad until about 8pm. At that time, my contractions had become so uncomfortable that I couldn't pay attention to our show. (Although still only 3 minutes apart). I asked Travis to turn off the iPad and turn on Iron and Wine again. I practiced breathing, reminding myself not to clench up my body when contracting. I held travis' hand and while I contracted I focused all my energy on taking deep breaths and NOT squeezing his hand. I was sure that if I could avoid clenching my teeth and fists, then my body would be relaxed enough that my contractions could do their job.
The nurse asked me (again) if I would like the portable monitors, so I could walk around or rock in the rocking chair. I assured her that I would be staying in bed, where I was comfortable.
"Oh, by the way," she said, as she left the room, "the portable monitor is waterproof. You could get into the tub if you wanted."
WAIT. STOP. I was in the tub by about 8:30, and my contractions picked up in intensity (though not frequency) immediately after I got in. The nurse kept saying, "Well, sometimes they don't NEED to be close together to still do their job."But I was convinced that I wasn't making progress.

Travis, meanwhile, was amazing. The nurse showed him how to apply counter pressure on my back while I contracted. The doctor had also made it extremely clear that if they were unable to consistently monitor the baby, I wouldn't be allowed to remain in the tub. The monitor only picked up Louise's heartbeat when I was leaning back in the tub, but that position was extremely painful when I was contracting. Travis watched me carefully and when a contraction started, he would help pull me forward on to my knees. With one arm, he applied pressure to my back and with his other arm, he held me up while I sagged against him. Then he would help lower me back into the tub. I suspect it was fairly straining to be picking up and setting down a 170 pound person every two minutes.
I also had to get out of the tub five or six times to use the toilet- as my system emptied out. My awesome husband basically carried his wet, naked (pathetic) wife across the bathroom each time and rubbed my back and didn't say mean things about me.
Fortunately for me, I don't think my nurse was a very good listener (to the doctor). As my contractions got more intense and very close together, I found it difficult to move backwards and forwards in between each one. She didn't insist.

It was agreed that I would need to get out of the tub at 10, so they could check my progress and administer the second dose of IV. Somehow, I was still convinced that my labor wasn't progressing. I was so afraid that I would get out of the tub and the nurse would check me and tell me I was only dilated to a 5 or 6.
I kept telling myself, "You just need to do this until 10. Then you'll get out of the tub, and they'll give you drugs." I had labored for so long with August- I knew I couldn't do that with Louise. I was so weak and tired from just the hour and a half of hard laboring I'd done in the tub. As 10 o'clock neared, I began to panic and cry.
"I made mistake. I can't do this. Other women can have their babies like this, but I can't do it." I kept saying, "I need the drugs. When I get out, please give me the drugs. I made a mistake."
It turns out- it WAS painful to have a baby after all! (Duh! Call me naive, but I totally believed all those pain free, drug free childbirth books!)
At 10:05, the nurse told me it was time to move back to the bed.
"I can't," I told her. "I'm too weak. My legs don't work anymore."
She and Travis half-dragged me back to the bed. I curled up on my side as another contraction hit me hard. Travis was trying to towel me off, while the nurse reattached me to the non-mobile monitors. As another contraction came (they were now very close together), I found that I was pushing.
Actually, I didn't even feel like I was pushing- I felt like Louise was pushing herself out!
As the contraction ended, I gasped "I'm pushing!"
I think there was a moment of panic while the nurse checked me! And indeed, I was ready to push!
She called out into the hallway, and several other nurses and doctors rushed in. She paged my doctor- who was at home! He got to the hospital less than 8 minutes after they paged him- but he had missed it!
But I didn't know what was happening at the time. After lying down in the bed, I hadn't opened my eyes a single time. I could vaguely hear the doctors trying to move, adjust, and instruct me- but I tuned everyone out. I was in my own zone and headspace.
The ten minutes while I pushed were the most spiritual minutes of my life. I felt very tied into eternity. As my body strained, I literally felt that all I was was a body pushing. All I had ever been, all I would ever do was push. I had been pushing forever, and I would continue to push forever. I needed someone to say to me, "It's almost over, she's almost here," because I couldn't see the end. I knew I would push for the rest of eternity, because pushing was the only thing that existed. And yet, it also didn't feel like pushing. It felt like pulling. I have a very distinct memory and impression of grasping someone and pulling them through. I believe that spiritually I was pulling Louise through the veil.
But first, I gave up. There were only two moments in those ten minutes when the words of the people in the room got through my haze. The first time was when someone said, "Her head is halfway out! Just a few more good pushes!"
And I thought, "But I can't push anymore. I'm dying." But I felt slightly encouraged and refocused my breath on "breathing my baby down" (as they said in my misleading books.)
Then an instant or eternity later (or perhaps a few minutes?), I heard the doctor say "The baby's heart rate is dropping."
And in my mind, I very clearly heard the spirit say, "It is better for us to pass through sorrow," and I knew that this was the moment of sorrow, and in a minute- I would have my baby in my arms and it would be worth it. I regrasped Louise, and I yanked that girl into mortality with everything I had! It really didn't feel like I was pushing her out of my body, it felt like I was pulling her through deep water, up into my arms. My doctor rushed into the room, just as they set Louise on my chest. I opened my eyes for the first time in 15 minutes and was surprised to see a room full of people.
Louise stayed fairly blue as her lungs were full of amniotic fluid and I was hemorrhaging blood. So I only held my gigantic baby for a few short moments before they rushed her away to towel her off and pump out her lungs a little. In the meantime, my doctor had arrived and he made me deliver my placenta and started stitching me up where I had torn.
After a minute or two, Louise was brought back to me. She instantly lifted her big head up and looked around. The nurses kept saying, "We really need to hear her give one big cry!" But Lu was very calm and didn't give them the satisfaction. After a little while, she latched right on and began nursing.





She was born at 10:20. Only about 6 hours after I got to the hospital, after an hour and a half of hard labor and 15 minutes of pushing.
She was 9 pounds, 1 ounce, 21.5 inches long.

Louise Mae (part 1- pregnancy)

My first public "belly shot," at about 14 weeks.

After August's birth- I was a wreck. I had a rough labor and delivery and difficult recovery, which actually jumpstarted an autoimmune disease in my body. (They are usually brought on by stress or sickness.)
In addition to the undiagnosed disease that I was fighting, I also was suffering from undiagnosed postpartum depression, which made me angry and irritable. I loved all my kids, but I was feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. I was physically and emotionally drained.
I recognized my depression about 6 months after August was born, and was able to address it. And a little over a year after his birth, at the poorest health of my life, I was diagnosed with Celiacs Disease and was able to start healing physically.

So it wasn't until August was about 15 months old that I felt like I had my own body and mind back.

I wanted to have more children eventually, but the idea of having another baby any time soon sent me into a panic. The exhaustion, sickness, strain and pain of pregnancy was terrifying to me, as was the idea that it might take me years to recover from it. And I had two four year olds and an eighteen month old to take care of, too!

We also had just bought a house, so in addition to taking care of me and our kids- Travis was faced with the financial strain of paying a mortgage and paying for lots of new medical bills. So Travis was even less interested in having babies than I was.

In October of 2015, we started listening to General Conference (a two day world-wide broadcast by leaders of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints), and having another baby was not even on our radar at all. We were not pondering or praying about it. We were not looking for inspiration as to whether or not we should try for more kids.

Elder Nelson gave a talk called, A Plea to My Sisters. As he spoke about the importance of women in the fight for good, I felt the spirit very strongly. Then he said, "We need women who have a bedrock understanding of the doctrine of Christ and who will use that understanding to teach and help raise a sin-resistant generation... We need women who have the courage and vision of our Mother Eve."
As he said these words, I felt a very strong spiritual impression.
First, I heard in my mind the words of Mother Eve saying, "It is better for us to pass through sorrow."
And I felt a very strong impression that I needed to begin preparing for another baby- and that it would be difficult and even heartbreaking.

I almost laughed out loud. I was not interested in another baby! God knew this. And if he was trying to convince me that I should have another baby, why would he do it while telling me that this baby would bring me sorrow?

Despite my annoyance at my Heavenly Parents for giving me such direct and unappealing instruction- I had felt the spirit very strongly. I knew what was expected of me. Over the next few days, I began (rather half-heartedly, I admit) to pray that I would feel a desire to be obedient. I did not ask, "Should we have another baby?" (I knew the answer already), instead I prayed - often saying things like, "I don't want another baby now. If I am supposed to have another child, help me feel a desire to do so."

I prayed like this for about three months, and although I didn't realize it at the time, my heart was beginning to soften. I had told Travis of my impression- but since he didn't want another baby yet either, and since he had not received any such prompting, I believe that his prayers concerning the new baby were even more half-hearted than mine. Only occasionally in our prayers together did we mention the fact that we were supposed to be preparing for another baby. And I don't think I told him that this baby had been promised to come with sorrow. 

In January of 2016, I was standing in my kitchen with several other women. One of my friends said, "I think I am ready to start trying for another baby."
"So am I!" I said, surprising myself as I said it. And even more surprising, I realized as I spoke that I meant it. I was still very afraid to have another baby (or more specifically, to be pregnant again), but I finally felt like the difficulty of pregnancy would be worth another child.

Now that I felt a desire to have another baby, Travis and I discussed the possibility again. He was still adamantly against having a baby. He wanted to wait another few years- after our home was a little less chaotic. I urged him to pray about it, and we visited the temple together several times and prayed about the baby. He still did not receive any promptings about the baby. Meanwhile, I started to feel an increasing desire to be obedient. I knew what was expected of me, God had given me time to prepare my heart- and now, I wasn't being obedient. I wasn't following instructions. It made me feel anxious and unhappy. God had answered my prayers- I wanted to obey!
Around this time, I also had the almost constant impression that I couldn't find my baby.
I would wake up in the middle of the night, searching half-awake through my sheets and blankets for the baby that I was sure needed to nurse.
When I buckled kids into the car, I was constantly counting, "Grey, Micah, August, and... where's the baby?" More than once, I rushed into the house, shouting to Travis, "We forgot her inside!" or "We're missing someone!"
Only to find myself standing in the kitchen, realizing that I didn't actually have another baby yet. "Who are we missing?" I asked every day, on walks, at the playground, at the store. I kept feeling that one of my children had wandered off- and yet they were all there.

I knew who we were missing.

After a few weeks of this, I felt like I was going crazy. I wrote out a list of all the things I wanted to discuss with Travis, and we sat down together. (I needed a list, because I knew that I would begin crying and have a hard time making points unless I had all my thoughts written down.)

And so we began. I explained that I felt a desire to be obedient. I explained that God wanted us to have another baby. I told him lots of things that were personal and heartbreaking, and I sobbed through the whole conversation.
But the thing I said most often and empathetically was, "She is waiting. She's waiting and she's anxious. I can feel her waiting, and I want her here with us."

Travis wasn't quite ready to agree to having another baby, but he did agree to pray and ponder whole-heartedly and not half-heartedly.

It's a GIRL!

In April, 6 months after I received the impression to prepare myself for another baby- I was pregnant. It had taken Travis and I each about three months to accept the idea of having another child.

My pregnancy was amazing. It was easy, and I felt good. I was able to hike, travel, take care of the boys, and didn't throw up a single time. I felt so blessed- but I also felt worried.
What was this sorrow that I was supposed to prepare for? If the sorrow didn't lie in my pregnancy, then should I expect it in my daughter?
Would be be disabled? Sickly? Would I lose her in childbirth?
I felt panicked as I tried to remember exactly what I had felt when I was prompted with those words, "It is better for us to pass through sorrow."
But over the months, I also felt peace.
I felt reassured that whatever happened, was supposed to happen. God doesn't make mistakes. And if there was something "wrong," it would be better than if everything was "right." It would be what we needed, what was right for our family and our daughter.
As I attended the temple, prayed, and read my scriptures looking for answers - I realized something.
When Eve tells Adam, "It is better for us to pass through sorrow," she isn't talking about a specific event.
She isn't referring to death, disability, or Cain killing Abel. She is talking about life. About mortality. Everything.
It is better for us to be alive and have families, even if it's hard. It is worth any heartbreak.
And I felt sure that God wasn't promising me a big, huge problem. He was promising me a baby.
And babies are hard. Children come wrapped up in heartbreak, in sickness, in sleepless nights, and broken arms, and angry words, and growing up. And it's all worth it.
The sorrow of having children is worth it, because babies also come with more joy than could be imagined by non-parents.
Maybe God was referring to fear that I felt of pregnancy. I needed to overcome that sorrow.
Maybe he meant the sorrow of wanting to be obedient and not being able to.
Maybe he meant the difficulty and pain of childbirth, or the sleepless nights and acid reflux that we're dealing with now.
Maybe there is something big, lurking around the corner. Maybe there is sickness, death, heartbreak and sorrow waiting to spring on us.
But now that we have Louise, I know that he was right. It is better to pass through sorrow. She is worth it. She is worth the heartache that I've already endured for her- and all the heartache that will come, just as all my boys were and are.
I am grateful that God knew what we needed better than we did. I am grateful that he told us to prepare our hearts and home for Louise, even though we were scared- even though it took a long time to find the desire.
Because by the time she got here, we were all anxiously awaiting her. I don't think we could have lasted much longer.

Due Date!

(A note: If you are not a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, you might be confused by our beliefs about Eve. So let me sum them up.
Unlike most other Christian religions, we don't believe that Eve made a great big mistake in the Garden of Eden all those years ago. We believe she made an important and brave decision.
When God told Eve that she would die if she ate the fruit of the tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil- it wasn't a threat. It was an explanation.
Eating the fruit of the tree wouldn't kill Eve, but it would make her mortal. It would introduce grief, pain, and death into the world- but it would also introduce life. Eve and Adam would be able to bear and raise children.  Eve's decision to become a mother was brave and selfless- she gave up the ease and comfort of a painless and eternal life, and it allowed each of us to be born and live and die.
Likewise, all women are able to follow in Eve's footsteps and bring children into mortality- giving everyone a chance to experience life and gain bodies. If you're interested in reading more about Eve, you can read the scriptural account in Moses 4 & 5 - consider it an "extended edition" of Genesis. Or you can read this article about Eve, which is one of my favorite explanations of our beliefs.)