a celebratory goodbye to nursing

{I don't feel any obligation or pressure to share my reasons for nursing or not nursing my children. It's just something I want to do. Because of how things went with Nova, I want to share how everything went this time around. Not everybody cares to talk about their own experience with feeding their babies, and that's fine! And along with that, not everyone cares to read about why people choose what they choose. But this piece of my motherhood has impacted me on a spiritual level, and I feel like it's a story that doesn't just give details about feeding decisions. It's a story that points to God, his goodness, and his knowledge of what is best for us even when we don't understand.}

Things were off from Day 1. 

I had hoped nursing would work this time around. But for some reason, I knew it wouldn't.

The entire pregnancy, I held loosely to the idea of nursing. I had learned that it doesn't matter how much I know about nursing. If my baby can't or won't do it, then that's that.

Veda wasn't satisfied with feedings from the moment I met her. The hospital is usually a dreamy place for me. People checking on me, taking care of my baby, and bringing me food all while I stay horizontal? Sign me up! But Veda wasn't happy. I would nurse for 30-45 minutes and sometimes she was satisfied. A lot of times she wasn't. So I'd try nursing again. After that point, she would cry and I would "shhh" and rock her until she gave into sleep. And usually, she would only fall asleep if she was on me. Putting her down in the hospital bassinet was not an option most of the time.

It was similar to our hospital stay with Nova, but the intensity was turned up a few notches this time. I figured it was just an eating issue. I thought, Once my milk comes in, this will probably change. This 10 lb. baby just needs some milk!
 
We had her on a Friday morning and headed home Saturday afternoon. Things got worse. She could not stay asleep in her crib at any point, day or night, for more than 25 minutes. It was miserable. We spent hours and hours going in and out of her nursery, trying to soothe her, trying to figure out the problem. And even in all of our trying, the fact that she was not immediately soothed or even calmed when we picked her up was a big red flag. Day after day, night after night, this continued.

All of this built up to one horrible night that Colt and I will never forget. Veda was inconsolable. No amount of nursing would satisfy. In the early morning hours, after no sleep, we decided to give her a bottle of pumped milk.

Immediate difference.

At our 5 day appointment that morning, the scale showed exactly what we had thought. Our sweet baby had lost a notable amount weight and was hungry - a problem that is so awful and heart-wrenching but also wonderfully simple to solve. Just like with Nova, I was making more than enough, but she couldn't get it from me.

"She's just not getting enough."

The doctor could barely get the words out before I said, "Okay! Well, that's good to know!" My excitement might've caught him off-guard, but in that moment I felt an amazing rush of relief. He kindly suggested we set up an appointment with lactation. But I knew we wouldn't. We wouldn't do that again. No, I would walk out of his office with a bottle-fed baby and I would be so thrilled about it.

I'll never forget the way I felt as we drove home that morning. We had said a celebratory goodbye to nursing and, thanks to the Lord and my journey with sweet Nova, I did it with freedom, ease, and excitement.

My plan was to pump as long as I could. Well, I guess I've learned a thing or two about giving myself grace because "as long as I could" translated into 3 days. This was a busy and stressful time for our family. Pumping wasn't worth it.

That sneaky voice tried to push its way in a few times with "Can't you just sacrifice and pump for this baby? Even just for a month? Are you that selfish?" But I knew what was on the line. My sanity, my time with my children, my freedom, my rest. All of those things take priority over breastmilk.

The first day of bottles couldn't have been more different than the days before it. She was full, happy, and content. She slept in her crib and took amazing naps.

Also worth noting? That same day, we got an offer on our house after just 12 days on the market. It was a red letter day.

Our experience with feeding Veda made me so thankful for our struggles with Nova. I fought hard and pushed and doubted God. It was a long battle and the Lord knew I needed to fight it then. This time with Veda, it needed to be a fast decision with quick answers. With a toddler running around, a 5 year old to take to pre-k, selling our house, packing everything we own, and then moving, it was clear that fighting for breastfeeding just wouldn't make the cut. 

I had already seen so much purpose, reason, and redemption behind our journey with Nova, but the Lord wasn't done with it. And that's why, to me, it was worth another blog post. Even though all of those emotions from 3 years ago are gone and healing has taken place, I want to remember that God is still finding new ways to re-purpose that whole experience. And he's not done re-purposing your thing either. The circumstance that you're in or the circumstance that's over. We can have full confidence that God really does know what he's doing as he's weaving our stories.

veda's birth story

I labored for 3 full days. (In case you missed that post, you can find it here.)

It's strange - living in the world among people and doing the usual things I do while feeling so completely unusual. Those days of laboring and contracting took place in their own dimension. It's otherworldly to me, and it felt like that with Nova too. It's a weird and quiet kind of reverent feeling. Not necessarily serious or miserable (until, of course, it gets serious and miserable). But it's solemn. It feels tender and strong both physically and mentally. I feel the urge to be still and rest as much as I can to store up energy. It's similar to a fever. Not feverish in the way it feels, but feverish in the sense that all you want is for everything stay in place and remain peaceful. Not a lot of movement, not a lot of noise, not a lot of commotion.

It seems like it'd be almost impossible for an environment to feel like that with two other kids around, but they knew things were different. They were their usual 2 and 5 year old selves all throughout those 3 days, but once they saw my hands reach out to the closest piece of furniture, my body bent over, and heard my breathing, they came to my side quietly and rubbed my back. I would nod my head as they asked, "Mom, are you having a 'constraction'?" They had been watching how Colt responded to me and decided to react in the same way. It was really precious.

On Friday morning, March 10th, at 3:45 a.m. we had been at the hospital for around 30 minutes. Once we signed our names on some initial paperwork, the nurse checked me and I was a 5. A five! I was so relieved and so excited. By 4 a.m., we were in a room and by 4:30 a.m., I was a 6 and fully effaced. My doctor came in around this time and broke my water. As soon as we got settled, I told the nurse I'd like an epidural whenever they could get around to it.

It was totally my plan to try for another natural birth like I had with Duke, but I also didn't want to labor all the way to a 9 and stall for 3 hours like I did with Nova. Getting an epidural at a 9 was not something I wanted to repeat. And because I had been up with practically zero sleep for the past 72 hours, there was no way that I had the energy, stamina, or mental power to continue laboring. Opting for an epidural was a no-brainer. I needed that bed and I needed those drugs and I needed some rest.

Several of Bethany Barnard's songs made it onto my labor playlist. "Your praise is an ocean, and my troubles are a puddle"

At 5:00 a.m., I got the epidural. Praise God from whom all epidurals flow. Around 7:15 a.m., our nurse, Jody, was about to start pitocin as another nurse was checking me. But once they saw that I was a 9.5, they realized there was no need for pitocin. They could summon the troops. (My doctor had a root canal scheduled for that morning, so there were at least two of us that wanted this baby out as soon as possible.)

Contracting as the epidural was kicking in

After about 5-10 minutes of pushing, our sweet Veda arrived at 8:07 a.m. on Friday, March 10th, 2017.

She was identical to Nova when she came out except for that full head of BROWN hair. My heart leapt when I saw it! She was a dream come true. All of the nurses began commenting on her size and I thought, Eh, she looks average. Then I heard the nurse shout, "10 lbs. 1 oz.!" from the scale. I laughed and thought no wonder it hurt to walk! Later on, they measured her length and she was 22 inches. Colt noted, "She's almost halfway to a Frontier City ride!"

Duke had his spring pre-k program that morning, hence the dots on his face. :)

To me, Veda's birth story is the least dramatic of the three. It was the longest labor and there were exhausting and painful hours when I felt really desperate, but the hospital part of it? E-a-s-y. By the time I got to that point, I was planning on getting an epidural so there was nothing to question or decide. I knew after 3 full days of contractions that this birth would resemble the others, but most certainly Nova's. This wasn't going to be one of those "My 3rd baby just slipped right out!" stories. All signs were pointing to a long and hard and 3-hours-to-change-1-centimeter kind of birth. Because I had experienced a natural birth and an almost natural birth that was absolutely crazy, it made sense to take a completely different route. What if I sat in the hospital bed and hung out and waited to dilate? I could hardly fathom it!

I love that they each have their own special story. One was by the book, one threw the book out the window and set it on fire, and one gently reminded me that the book doesn't exist. Although my birth experiences didn't come without a handful of doubts, disappointments, and, ultimately, life lessons alongside them, my dreams came true. The Lord wanted my story and these kids' stories to look this way. I have three healthy children and there was not one moment in any of their labors or deliveries that was an emergency. That right there is a blessing and a miracle, and I will never take it for granted.

We are so thankful for our sweet Veda making us a family of 5.

Photos taken by the lovely Sara Young
Read Nova's birth story here and Duke's birth story here.

36 weeks - thoughts, reflections, and excitement

This pregnancy is coming to an end. (Well, I use "end" loosely. I'm 36 weeks tomorrow and, while I don't wish to go 13 days over again, I'm not ruling it out of the possibilities.) Although I won't miss breathing heavily, the nightly heartburn, and the constant need to pee, I will miss Veda being in my belly. I really like and enjoy being pregnant even if it means I get fat face, my voice changes, and I have to do gymnastics to put on my pants.

For those of you who know my life (or who read this blog), you may remember that Duke came on his due date and Nova came 13 days late. Because their birth stories turned out to be so absolutely and perfectly matched with their personalities, I am so curious to see what this little babe will do. Will she be full of surprises? Will she be "nice and easy," as Nova once claimed over her? Will she be stubborn? Will she be early? Will she be late? Will my labor be any easier than the other two?  

I have no answers to these questions, but I love not having answers. I love this part - the wondering and the waiting. I wish that at any point in my life, I could jump back into being 36+ weeks pregnant for just a few minutes to feel these unique feelings of anticipation.

But even beyond the last days of pregnancy, the labor, and the childbirth, I am so excited to see our family of five take shape.

I know there are plenty of things I could be worried about. How will everyone adjust? Will Veda nurse? Will Nova do okay suddenly not being the only girl? Will we all lose our minds in this house? Can I really tote 3 kids around all by myself? Etc. But honestly, I haven't worried about this stuff that much. I have talked about it and thought about it, but I haven't really worried about it. I guess that's maybe part of the third-time mom gig though. There are things you know and can plan for, and then there are things you just have to let happen. So instead of losing sleep over worrying, I have mostly lost sleep over the things I'm most excited about.

I am excited for that first moment of meeting Veda. "Meet" doesn't even really work as the word to describe it. I mean, how do you describe the moment when you finally see the baby you've been dreaming about, planning for, talking about, and carrying for 9 months? "Meet" hardly does it justice. It's one of the most beautiful, most overwhelming, most perfect moments in all of life.

I am excited to watch Colt. I love watching Colt in new-dad mode. The way he carries me through the labor and delivery, the way he pushes through exhaustion to support me, the way he jumps up to change all the diapers and fill all the requests I make of him, the way he cares for me. It's odd because it's the most tiring season of all of life, but it's also romantic and dreamy.

I am excited to watch the kids experience all of it. To see Duke become a big brother again, but with a completely different perspective and understanding this time. To see Nova practice her mommy-ing skills on a real little person. To see both of them step into new roles, new responsibility, and new big-ness.

I am excited to see this house burst at the seams. It's something I don't think I ever imagined when we bought it. I envisioned having kids here I guess, but not necessarily three of them. There's something sweet about using up every inch of every floor and every shelf of every closet. While moving and getting a little more space is something we'd love to do at some point, we are patiently waiting for the right house and for God's timing. Until then, the five of us will be here together.

I am excited to see who I become. With each child - the pregnancy, the delivery, the first months - God is very intent on teaching me things. He chisels away at me, working through the grime of my sin and wrong beliefs. He teaches me about his character and he teaches me about mine. It might sound strange, but I like myself better with each new baby he has given me. I like where 30 year old Claire is way better than 25 year old Claire. Each new baby has made me a better person, a better wife, a better mom, and a better friend. Don't misunderstand me - I can list all of my flaws and struggles out for you quite easily. But there's a lot of self-awareness that comes to the surface in newborn land. God does some meaningful work in me through motherhood and, while I don't necessarily enjoy the learning process it takes to get there, I am always thankful for it. What a beautiful thing it is that God uses the blessing and the weight of most wonderful gifts to mold me into who I should be.

Veda Claire

I was thinking we might actually birth this baby before giving her a name, but I'm glad to have settled on one beforehand. Baby #3 has officially been named Veda (pronounced Vayduh) Claire.

The first time I ever heard the name Veda was on the movie "My Girl." (Although hers was spelled Vada.) The second time I heard it was in college. There was a band named Veda (now Vedera) that I really liked. But it wasn't until we were sifting through girl names this time around that I saw it and thought it belonged on our list to consider. I remember loving the sound of that name as a little girl and I still feel the same about it today. Claire was an obvious choice for us for her middle name. I love that her name will carry a piece of me.

Veda means knowledge or understanding and Claire means bright, clear, or shining. I love the combination of all of those things, and I will be praying them over her. That she will be a person who has a clear understanding of who she is and who God is. That she will have a gift to discern and know things that may feel confusing or unclear to the people or world around her. That her ability to understand people or situations produces a big heart of compassion in her. That she will be a bright representation of the character of God so that others come to a knowledge of him through her.

Veda Claire, we love you so much already. See you soon.

becoming a family of 5

As a new mom of one, I wondered how in the WORLD people ever had more than one child. What kind of witchcraft is involved for such a feat? How were they doing this? Did they just give up on their lives?

I was a mom of one wishing to be a mom of more one day, but I could not wrap my brain around how that was actually going to be possible - physically, spiritually, mentally, emotionally. I looked at these moms like they had found some magic ingredient I was somehow missing. Maybe I'm just not 'mom material,' I would tell myself in my Kirsten Dunst voice.

Fast forward five years and I find myself pregnant with baby #3. I'm totally drinking the Kool-Aid.

I had forgotten I used to have all of these thoughts until I talked with a mom of one a few weeks ago. I noticed the way she looked at my friends and me. Like we were heroes and had done something truly amazing. She didn't know how we did it. But I reassured her that one child is very hard. One child is plenty of chaos, crying, whining, diapers, boo-boos, laundry, discipline, and messes. Adding more is just more. More of all that same stuff. More can still be hard, and it is many times! But man, once you get that baseline mom-ness in your blood, the adding of another kid just isn't as traumatic. At least that's how it felt for us when we added Nova into the mix.

I can't speak to what three will do to my life. I'm aware of the concept of being outnumbered, but right now, I'm really not worried about it.

I've learned that there's a fine line between my love for plans and worrying in advance. I'm working on it and I think I'm getting better. I still love my precious plans and playing out some hypothetical situations that are healthy and productive to play out, but I'm trying to stay away from worry and fear. There will be a lot of changes over the course of the next year. Lots of things up in the air. But what I've discovered is that I don't have to know how things will go down before they do.

This realization came a few months ago at our women's retreat where one of my favorite women in our church spoke. She talked about growing up as one of nine children. People would ask her mom how she did it. How did she do NINE children? Her answer was simple and so encouraging. She would say, "Well, when I had one kid, I had one-kid grace. When I had two kids, I had two-kid grace. With nine kids, I have nine-kid grace." This was like a breath of fresh air to me.

There's simply no use in wondering whether or not I'll have the grace or patience or mom-ness to handle three children because I legitimately don't have the grace for it right now. I have the grace and capacity to handle what's in front of me - Duke and Nova. It does me no good to jump forward 6 months with worry and doubt in my mind.

Now, that doesn't mean that grace is magically and easily planted into our hearts at the time we need it. These kinds of graces the Lord gives us come with refinement and our share of growing pains. That's inevitable. But God gave me what I needed when I had Duke and when I had Nova. And he'll do it again.

We are really excited to be in this spot as a family. Duke is thrilled and totally gets what's going on. Nova knows there's a baby in my belly, but obviously has no idea what is actually going to happen. Many times, Colt and I exchange glances with raised eyebrows when all hell is breaking loose in our home, reminding each other that another one is, in fact, on the way. But then we sit on the couch after bedtime routines and talk about how crazy we are about our kids. We can't wait to see who this little person is growing inside of me.

We are incredibly thankful for where God has us as a family right now and look forward to what the coming months will bring.

holiday review 2015

THANKSGIVING

I'm sure you don't remember, but last Thanksgiving was one for the books.  We were in the thick of Nova's ongoing ear infections and Duke went on a poop strike.  We gave thanks for enemas and antibiotics.  We could only go up from there.

This year was great.  We kicked everything off with our annual 3rd annual OBU Friendsgiving.

Then, we spent Thanksgiving day with my side and the following two days with Colt's family in Stillwater.  The weirdest thing was not having Nana around with the Westbrooks.  She passed away in September and we all definitely felt her absence this year.

visiting Brandon at the coffee shop

We left Stillwater earlier than planned that Saturday evening because of all of the power outages.  We weren't sure of what we'd come home to and we needed to have time to make a plan.

Sure enough, we had no power.  We grabbed a few things inside the house and headed to the Chambers' to spend the night.  After we put all give kids down for bed, we got Poblano takeout and watched the bedlam game.  It was such a fun impromptu little date night. 

PRE-CHRISTMAS

my dad's company Christmas party

Walrus Audio Holiday Party

community group Christmas party

I love the entire Christmas season and one main reason is because it means lots of musical activities.  We did our 5th annual Cuppies Caroling night and it was so much fun.  I came prepared this year (finally) with lyric sheets printed out for us.  It's such a fun thing to sit around with these girls who I've known for most or all of my life.

A few days later, Karlie and I (IG: @maryanntheband) did an evening of melancholy Christmas music.  Because sometimes you don't want to have a holly jolly Christmas.  Sometimes you wish you had a river you could skate away on.  So, for all the folks who needed a little calm and understanding, we decided to stick with our theme.

Our last musical event of the season was when we, The Night Nights, (IG: @thenightnights), did an hour of Christmas music and interactive stuff with the kids.  I cannot tell you how much I loved it.  There's nothing like doing music in front of a bunch of eager, smiling kiddos with Christmas anticipation filling their hearts.

my Mama Lue and my mom after our piano recital

One night, we had a special movie night with Duke.  We put Nova to bed and then popped popcorn, ate candy, and watched Inside Out.  Duke was in heaven and I think he felt extra special that he got to stay up late with us.  He kept asking questions like, "Are we staying up til morning?  Is it already time to wake up?  Am I gonna sleep in here tonight?"  The kid loves his sleep.

Our Christmas Eve service was extra memorable this year since Colt and I were asked to lead a short kid's music time.  I planned on plopping Nova in my lap while I played and sang.  She's used to doing that at home, but I was crossing my fingers she'd stay put.  And she did!  A true Christmas miracle!

CHRISTMAS

We spent sweet time with our families, ate lots of good food, and laughed a lot.

One of my favorite memories of this Christmas will be that we re-gifted the dollhouse that my dad made for me when I was 4.  (The dollhouse I talked about in this old post.)  I wasn't quite ready to indulge in Barbies with the kids, but I got some dolls, threw in some homemade furniture, and called it done! 

NEW YEAR'S EVE

All night we said, "We've got to remember to take a picture before everyone leaves!"  But we still forgot.  Oh well.  It was a fun night with a small group of OBU folks.  Duke even got to stay up late with his buddies (Cooper and Camryn) that night.  Cookies, pigs in a blanket, and movies on the iPad until 10:30?  He hardly knew what to do with himself.

It was a fun, relaxing holiday season and I'm looking forward to what 2016 brings!