Giavonna Grace Guise

 “She was perfect. I knew this the moment she emerged from my body, white and wet and wailing. Beyond the requisite ten fingers and ten toes, the beating heart, the lungs inhaling and exhaling oxygen, my daughter knew how to scream. She knew how to make herself heard. She knew how to reach out and latch on. She knew what she needed to do to survive. I didn’t know how it was possible that such perfection could have developed within a body as flawed as my own, but when I looked into her face, I saw that it clearly was.”
― Vanessa Diffenbaugh, The Language of Flowers

Wow, it has been a LONG time since I last wrote, but between the exhaustion of the third trimester and craziness of having a three month old, I haven't been able to carve out time for writing. I'm hoping that can begin to change. Life has become an amazing adventure, and I can't wait to update you with all the exciting details!

Firstly and most importantly, my beautiful baby was born! Here's some photos of me the last month of my pregnancy:

08/23/14

08/30/14

08/31/14

To think I went into labor three days after the last picture was taken! I was definitely ready to get that show on the road, and apparently so was Giavonna =) Being nine months pregnant in August is not for the faint of heart. I would get winded and dizzy when walking from the truck into church (normally a two or three minute walk turned into at least five minutes), the New Jersey heat was literally like a bathtub, so thick you could swallow it some days. I would waddle behind my brisk husband, huffing in gulps of air, wondering if I could make it to the door or if I should just sit down in the middle of the street and take a break. Lol that would have been a sight. My husband teased that walking at my pace was torture for him, but I clung to his arm anyway, not trusting myself to make it into the air conditioned building on my own. So aside from the occasional dips in my grandmothers pool I spent my summer indoors. I missed the camping trips my husband and I would take, the concerts under the stars, going for long drives. By the end of the pregnancy I couldn't sit in a the truck very long or my sciatic nerve would start screaming, so I became a couch potato, counting down the days until my due date. Now there were some wonderful moments towards the end, like watching Giavonna dance across my belly or getting the house ready for her arrival, but overall I was antsy to meet her and completely over being pregnant.

Early labor lasted for a few days. The contractions started in my lower back, as if my back muscles were tightening into a fist and then releasing. I know that's a strange description but I can't explain it any other way. It was a deep, spasm-like pain that reached it's long fingers into my back, curled around my muscles, and then suddenly disappeared. Sometimes the contractions would be twenty minutes a part, sometimes sixty or ninety minutes a part. Sometimes they would stop altogether until the next day. Russell and I always had our timer in arms reach, so we could decipher if it was hospital time. The contractions didn't become regular until September 3rd. They were within ten to thirty minutes of each other, and I just had a feeling that it was time. Our first trip to the hospital was unsuccessful, and we were sent home undilated and with a high, soft cervix. I was so frustrated that I cried in the examination room, but the nurse encouraged me saying she believed the baby would be ready soon. So Russell, my mom and I drove back home, me still believing that my labor would progress that night. Around 10pm that night the contractions changed, and by 1am we were on our way back to the hospital, with contractions between 3 to 5 minutes a part. I was reexamined and it was discovered that I was 4cm dilated, hallelujah this baby was on her way!

The timer on Russell's phone- it was baby time!

Active labor is intense. The constant rhythm of back and pelvic pain jealously demands your concentration. I had my heart set on a natural labor, without medication, and by the grace of God I was able to experience that, but I would not have been able to get through labor without my support team, a hand held fan, and God's presence in that hospital room. The room was sterile and unfamiliar, but somehow cozy. I felt safe. I moved from the bed, to leaning against the wall, to my husband's arms, to sitting on a birthing ball, to finally settling into a rocking chair, it was the only thing that didn't transform the pain into something unbearable. My husband and I got into a rhythm, I'd whisper "fan" once a contraction started and he would hold the fan in front of my face until I slumped back against the chair, exhausted and preparing for the next contraction. Visual therapy was a constant beacon of hope to which I clung during the contractions. I would picture a white cross on top of a grassy hill or the beach a night time. Both reminded me that Christ had suffered so that we would have new life, which is what a laboring mother symbolically experiences, she suffers so that new life can burst forth into the world, so those images offered me an anchor to cling to. I knew I could get through it because He was with me. Sometimes I would mentally recite parts of Romans 5: 3-5  "3Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us." Labor was an intimate connection to the Lord, a quiet communion with Him. His peace coated the images in my head, His Word would repeat in my ear, He was holding Giavonna and I throughout the whole labor, and it was beautiful. Her birth will always be a precious memory for me, not only because she was finally entering the world, but also because I spent the last moments before becoming a mother in worship and communion with my Savior. I will cherish those moments. Among relying on the Lord I also practiced relaxation techniques like loosening my hands and jaw during each contraction, that way the baby could descend through my pelvis easier and my body would be in a more relaxed state. Russell would gently remind me to breathe or relax throughout the labor, being my cheerleader and constant comfort. My mom also kept close throughout the labor, relieving Russell so he could steal a snack before racing between the delivery room and the waiting room where my family and friends were anxiously awaiting Giavonna's arrival.

Back: Mom Guise, Granna and Dougie. Front: Pop Guise and Pop Ale. Everyone excited for Gia's birth!

Granna and Doug waiting for updates and pictures

A tired Pop waiting for some news

Meme keeping up with updates

And then the pushing began. It's like a tight fist pushing down, acting as a sounding trumpet to make way for the baby, it's painful but exciting. I tried pushing while on my knees, bending over the couch, but I finally made my way to the bed and began the hard work of forcing Giavonna past my tail bone and out into the world. Mom held one leg, Russell held the other, and I crunched my still huge belly while pulling my legs towards me, screaming out exhales and using muscles I didn't even know I had. Pushing lasted 1-2 hours. I was beginning to lose a lot of steam and feeling weak when the nurse took my hand and pressed it against the crown of Gia's head. I felt her long curly hair, and was renewed and ready to finish this. After a few pushes later her head completely popped out, I remember hearing the nurse, doctors, Russ and mom shouting, "Her head's out! She's out! Push again! One more time!" I gave one more hard push and felt her body slip out, the way a fish feels when it's squirming in your hand, and heard her beautiful cry. She was out. My baby was born. Russell and mom were crying over the wonder of her, and I held her warm, wet body against my chest. She was beautiful, with thick black hair and dark blue eyes. She weighed 7lbs 13 ounces and was 20 inches long. She was born at 10:16am on September 4th.

Giavonna Grace Guise

Mom and pop relaying the exciting news

The first few hours were a glorious blur. It felt surreal. My family and friends shuffled in to celebrate Gia's birth while I laid in bed, cradling my sweet newborn baby, so happy to finally be holding her and preparing for sleep. Russ had a hard time sleeping, he would jump up and check on Giavonna every time she made a noise in her sleep, hovering around his firstborn. I, however, slept like a log haha. I was exhausted and took full advantage of my sore body, only getting up to use the shower or do a short lap around the room. I had a broken tailbone, some stitches, and the standard pain of a post birthing experience, but overall I was so happy to have Gia with us. We remained in the hospital until September 6th.

Giavonna in my arms her first night

Me snuggling Giavonna on Sept 5th

Skin on skin bonding with daddy

Gia and daddy

Poppop Guise and Gia

Night night Giavonna

I can't express the joy you feel when bringing home your baby for the first time. It's a declaration that yes, this experience was real, and now everything has changed. I couldn't wait to wake up and see her snuggled up in her co-sleeper, to sing her to sleep in the rocking chair Granna and poppop bought for us, to cheer on her milestones and wipe away her tears. Stepping into the truck with my baby was like stepping into a whole new life.

It felt so wonderful to get that postpartum shower, ohhh I can still remember how wonderful that hot water felt against my tired body. 

Goodbye hospital room

Where Russ and I ate our meals

Another angle of the room

Gia's take home outfit

A nurse wheeling Gia and I out of the hospital. We're going home!!

Sleepy girl

After Gia's first bath in her home!

Daddy lovin on his baby

Mommy showered and holding her angel

And so that's the story of our wonderful baby's birth. She's healthy and growing quickly, she's already 13 weeks old! But I'll write another entry to catch everyone up on the first three months of her life. Right now I just want to end with Scripture, because I think God sums up motherhood in these words:

"Children are a gift from the Lord;
    they are a reward from him." Psalm 127:3

My First Mother's Day

"We never know the love of the parent until we become parents ourselves" -Henry Ward Beecher

      I had high hopes for my first Mother's Day, plans to stroll down the Ocean City boardwalk and bask in the glow of carrying my first child...but God had other plans for me that morning. The start to my first Mother's Day was a scary event. But, I think that's how it tends to go when you put a lot of pressure on a specific occasion, like catching the flu the morning you leave for Disney World or getting food poisoning on Christmas. It's a gentle reminder that you are the not center of the world. I went to sleep fitfully the night before Mother's Day, my neck throbbing with pain, my shoulders aching and my fingers tingling. I was awoken around 6:00am by the pain, which had transformed from a hungry junkyard dog into a frothing monster. The throbbing in my neck had traveled up into my head, ears and jaw. It felt like my nerve endings were frayed spark plugs, electrocuting my tortured muscles. The jaw pain is what scared me the most, since it was so unexpected. It felt as though my jaw was tired and sore, as if I had been chewing on something hard for hours and it left my muscles feeling wasted. The pain shot down my neck into my shoulder blades, and from there into my arms, elbows, hands and fingers, like strands of lightening coursing through my nerves. It was pulsating and unbearable. I couldn't lie in bed, stand up, sit down. There was no escape from the overwhelming ache. I tried standing in a hot shower, allowing the water to drum against my back, Russell spent close to an hour (between the night before and that morning) massaging my back and neck, I just could not find relief. Visions of listeria, meningitis, and tetanus raced through my head, surely I had something incurable and deadly. Otherwise, why would I be in enough agony to become nauseated. I was about to go to the emergency room when my mom took over the show, she had Russell make me a cup of tea, she made me recline against a heating pad, I took a Tylenol, she rubbed my head and we just waited. If the pain continued to get worse, Russ and I would rush to the hospital, if I started to feel better then I would go back to sleep. Slowly, the heating pad worked through the tenderness in my back, and I began to drift in and out of jerky sleep. I eventually called my Aunt Cindy, who's a trauma nurse, and told her about my symptoms. She assured me that if I didn't have a fever or an intense headache that it was probably a problem buried in my muscles and to take 2 Tylenols. My mom encouraged me to continue with my plans for the day, which was to enjoy the fresh air and to allow it to loosen my muscles. I decided to give it a try, and by 1:40pm Russ and I were driving to Ocean City, my body finally able to relax against his car seat, the warm air whipping through my hair and melting my muscles. I'm so glad I went to the beach, it was a beautiful, breezy Jersey day, and it was exactly how I wanted to celebrate my beginnings of motherhood. The pain continued to prick my shoulders and neck, but it was no longer as intense, and I could focus on watching Russell and our little cousins enjoy the rides, I chatted with my family, and enjoyed scarfing down cheese fries and pizza. 

From right to left, starting with the back row: Poppop Johnson, Erwin, Uncle Kevin, Kevin Jr, Mason, Dave, Mom, Russell. Front row: Melanie, Aunt Robin, Granna, me

Mom and Dave

Right side: Russell, Mason, Aunt Robin, Kevin. Left side: Dave, me. We're enjoying pizza at the best pizza place on the boardwalk - Manco and Manco's of course!

       My husband and I were able to stroll down the boardwalk, hand in hand, on the first Mother's Day I could celebrate as an expecting mother. It was wonderful. I truly am so happy I went. The pain has come and gone since May 11th, but it hasn't been nearly as intense as it was that morning. After that experience Russ and I decided to take some aggressive, holistic approaches to my pregnancy health. Russell surprised me with a one hour pre-natal massage at my favorite spa as my Mother's Day gift (talk about God being in control, the worst muscle pain in my pregnancy coinciding with a massage certificate, I can see God in so many details of my life). I also started seeing my old chiropractor again, Dr. Ledden, who assured me that the pain I was experiencing can definitely be traced back to my spinal alignment being out of wack, due to my pregnancy. Apparently, as your pregnancy progresses your muscles and bones relax, that way your growing belly can have room to expand, this is great for the baby but it can be painful for the mama-to-be. She said that the most we can hope for is that I can become more comfortable, but I shouldn't expect to be pain free until Giavonna is born. I'm thinking some appointments with an acupuncturist and some light exercise may help keep anymore painful episodes away. I don't know, I guess we'll see.

      Either way, I'm thankful to be pregnant. This journey is going to be completely worth every stretch mark when Gia is able to take her first breath. 

Boy or Girl?

"A daughter is a miracle that never ceases to be miraculous...full of beauty and forever beautiful...loving and caring and truly amazing." -- Deanna Beisser

Giavonna Grace Guise at 20 weeks and 4 days old. She weighed 14 ounces.

      I must confess, Russ and I have had an unfair advantage when discovering the gender of our baby. The day I found out I was pregnant I knew I was having a girl. I can't explain how I knew, I just had a settled, peaceful realization that the little person within me would be my Giavonna. Throughout the pregnancy I teeter-tottered about the gender, my instincts told me to buy dresses, but the ultrasounds confused me. I saw Russell's nose and eyes on the screen, and I found myself double guessing my initial thought about who was growing inside me, perhaps I would have a beautiful son. There was no more need for questioning after April 23rd, when our ultrasound technician announced that Russell and I would be having a girl. I was having my Gia.

      Russell and I are expressive people, and our favorite form of communication is creativity. We knew that we wanted our baby's gender announcement to be a fun, celebratory experience for our family. So preparations were made and we surprised our families on Sunday, April 27th, with a Gender Reveal Party (or at least we tried to surprise our families, my mother and my Granna refuse to be surprised, so one found out early and the other couldn't stop guessing via facebook all morning). It was the first party Russ and I ever hosted, and it was so much fun! Thankfully, we had some help with the party set up, my long time best friend Amanda came over early to help me cook the food and clean my house. I couldn't ask for a better friend <3 I also had the help of my and Russell's family, a huge ham was given by Granna, a fruit tray by mom and french toast by my mother inlaw. Combine all that with my mini quiches, cupcakes and scones and there was plenty to eat. To surprise everyone at the same time we decided to make chocolate cupcakes stuffed with pink buttercream and coated in chocolate gauche (thanks Pioneer Woman for the recipe!). As our guests arrived we asked them to say a message to our baby on our video camera and to wait until everyone had arrived before taking a cupcake.

Our Gender Reveal station

The cupcakes!

Russell explaining the Gender Reveal Station to our future daughter on camera

      We had some wonderful words captured on camera to our beautiful baby. We plan to video tape all her major milestones and events so we can one day show her how very loved she was, since before she was born. Once everyone arrived our guests took a cupcake, gathered in the living room, and took a big bite on the count of three. 

SURPRISE!!! IT'S A GIRL!! (From left to right: mom, Granna, Meme, Lynn, Aunt Jackie, Uncle Greg)

It's time to celebrate!!

My father inlaw and mother inlaw, and my best friend Amanda

Me video taping everyone's reaction (Russ took the photos)

There's always time for a selfie when celebrating! (Notice Amanda peaking behind us haha)

      After all the celebration over a long awaited little girl, everyone grabbed some food and enjoyed each other's company.

Five generations of women! Me (and Gia), Granny, Granna, and Mom

Dad G, Mom G, Russ, me, mom, Dave

Joy and I

      So, to sum it up, the Gender Reveal party was a success (not to mention a lot of fun)! I can't wait for Giavonna to enter into this world and meet all the people who already love her so much.

      

What this baby represents...

"Childhood is the most beautiful of all life's seasons." ~Author Unknown

      I don't think anyone can claim that their childhood was a fairytale, there are ups and downs to every story. When I think about the ups that I experienced as a child, a few memories come to mind:

- How the house would smell when my brother and I would tear open the bright red front door of our childhood home in Fairton, NJ, after a long day at school. My mother's culinary creations would saturate every nook and cranny of our large farm house, and the smell I remember the best was hot, gooey chocolate chip cookies perfuming the air. My mom would wait for us either at the door, or, more commonly, behind the kitchen island, that way she could watch us race down our long driveway and pull out the cookies as we were opening the door. She always had a warm, beautiful smile across her face as she'd tell us how much she missed us that day and how excited she was to hear about what we learned. As a child I used to think adults would ask, "what did you learn?" as a form of small talk, they couldn't possibly care about the differences between a Cumulus cloud and a Altocumulus cloud, but as a woman I've come to realize I was wrong. One of my favorite conversations to have with my baby cousins is to find out what they learned that day, it swells me with pride. Anyway, those conversations and her wafting afternoon treats are memories that I consider sacred, and it's a tradition I plan to pass on.

- Another memory I have involves food and my mom again. When I was younger I had a passion for soccer, I would run around chasing that little black and white ball for hours at practice during blazing hot afternoons. I remember the New Jersey heat would be so stifling that you literally felt like you were melting away. I remember seeing my mom's SUV pull into the school parking lot after practice and running over to be greeted by an icy cold air conditioner and McDonalds. My mom always knew exactly what I needed, and she worked hard to keep me comfortable.

- As a child, my parents fostered my tremendous passion for animals. I had countless furry friends, from rabbits to guinea pigs to birds to dogs and cats. One very special friend was my dog Biscuit. He was a gorgeous springer spaniel, with giant splashes of black and white across his body, and expressive brown eyebrows, who was unusually large for his breed and incredibly gentle. He and I would go on countless adventures in the woods, exploring hidden flower patches or climbing broken trees. A few times I packed he and I a picnic lunch and we would go off, finding a lovely patch of God's green earth to nibble on the treats I packed before continuing to explore. He was a wonderful dog, the best dog a young girl could have.

- The last memory I'll share is one time when I got into trouble with my parents, I was young. I was crying in bedroom, angry and upset, when my little brother poked his head into my bedroom. He wasn't older then 6 or 7 years old, and he looked at me with compassion and companionship. He told me not to worry, he'll find me some toys for me to play with and try to convince my parents to un-ground me. Dougie and I have always been each other's defenders.

I'm sitting on the left side of the bench in the back. On the right is my brother and my beautiful mom is standing behind him. This encompasses so many memories, my mom taking Doug and I on some adventure. This one, I believe, is a Brownies meeting

      I could go on and on...most of my very best memories are spent with my mother or outside. I grew up in a very tight-knit family, from both my mother and father's side of the family. My mom was raised in a matriarchal family, supported by strong, educated women who involved themselves in every aspect of eachother's lives. The husbands tended to quietly smile and let their wives take care of family details, which the women were more then happy to do. My Granny and Poppop would host big 4th of July parties in their backyard, there would be swimming, tons of food, and an unlimited supply of popsicles (which one could sneak constantly, if one avoided their mother). My Granna and Poppop would plan all the details of the summer beach house, who's birthday was coming up, and what party they would be hosting. My family took my education very seriously, Granna spending hours going over my home work and correcting my penmanship, wanting nothing to be denied to me based on my grades, encouraging me to take pride in my work. It was an uphill battle for them (why study my "spelling list" when I could be playing outside?) but my family eventually taught me the importance and permanence of an education, money and relationships can be taken away, but you can never be stripped of a degree. My mother's side of my family also taught me the value of loyalty. It didn't matter who was mad at who, if a family member was struggling the mother hens of the family would flutter about, cleaning that family's member house, cooking them meals and encouraging that person to keep moving. If someone became ill, my whole family would encircle them, taking that individual's responsibilities on as their own. I witnessed this first hand with the passing of my great-grandfather. He was surrounded by my family when he passed, my mother watched him take his last breath. There was never moment my Poppop had to struggle alone. I guess that would sum up what my mother's side instilled most into my being: to celebrate life's joys and tread through life's trials together, no one was left behind.

My graduation from CCC with my Associates degree in 2010, this wouldn't have happened if my family hadn't pushed me to believe in myself.

FRONT: Dave, mom, Kevin, Taylor, Granna, me. BACK: Aunt Robin, Uncle Kevin and Poppop. We were celebrating Granna's retirement (2010).

      I also had a strong family relationship from my father's side of the family. He came from a traditional Italian-American family, one of four boys, and the Sorantino's had a traditional patriarchal family structure. Most of my memories include some sort of meal, whether it was Meme's spaghetti and meatballs or her Christmas cookies. I was very close to my little cousins, all of whom were little girls with gigantic personalities. Gabby was my goofball, she had bright, inquisitive blue eyes and had a never ending supply of giggles. Amber also filled Meme's house with laughter, her wit becoming apparent even at a young age. Devan was a soft spoken beauty, she was much quieter then her cousins but very observant and demonstrated early on a strong sense of empathy. Lauren was a bright, fiery child with a go-getter personality and a charming, baby-doll face. These little girls encompass so many wonderful memories with the Sorantino side of my family. The many sleep overs where Meme would let us play with her makeup, hair clips and scarves until we came up with the perfect looks, which we would then model for Meme in a runway style show. She would laugh happily, snapping pictures and clapping. My Meme and Poppop taught me the value of creativity and individuality. Meme, who was an art teacher, loved to fine tune my artistic talents, challenging me to look closely at a painting and notice colors I hadn't seen before. She introduced me to exotic historical figures like Renoir, Cezanne, and Monet, I liked to hear her pronounce their names, even though it would be years before I understood just how valuable their works were to the fine arts. She was an enthusiastic cheerleader for my artistic achievements, and helped me become the expressive individual I am today.
 

Dougie and I at Meme and Popppop's house. By the looks of this picture it must have been her annual Christmas Eve party.

Some afternoon tea with my beautiful Meme and cousins. Left to right: Devan, me, Meme, Lauren, Gabby

      I have many beautiful memories from my childhood and my family groomed certain traits into my emotional DNA that I'm thankful for, however, there's always gray clouds surrounding a rainbow. I won't go into many details, but I will say this, through the hard times the people I listed remained by my side. Eventually my wonderful husband entered the picture (in fact, he officially asked me to be his girl friend 7 years ago today!) and my mom re-married a kind-hearted man name David Ale, who inter-meshed with my family perfectly. Last night my mom and I talked about the harder times we shared as I was growing up, and some times in her life where she struggled, and how different this baby's life will be. My husband and I had a similar conversation a few days ago. This baby represents a promise, a new beginning. A chance to protect my child from things I wish I didn't have to go through, and a chance to celebrate experiences that I cherished. I hope this baby lets my Granna teach her how to properly hold a pencil, that she enjoys the crystal blue water in Granna and Poppop's pool as they show her how to hold her breath under water, that she savors every bite of Granna's rainbow pancakes. I hope this baby learns the value of hardwork, education and loyalty. I hope this baby watches Meme flutter her pencil across a canvas, deciding at which angle she wants to begin. I hope he shares his thoughts and ideas about life and faith with her over a plate of cookies. I hope I'm the type of mother who brings about cherished, lasting memories about everyday occurrences, like how my house smells when I cook. Most importantly, I hope this child can see all the beauty I saw, and reaches far beyond my capabilities.

      You, my darling, are a beautiful promise

    

I'm Back!!!

 "A mother's joy begins when new life is stirring inside... when a tiny heartbeat is heard for the very first time, and a playful kick reminds her that she is never alone."
- Author Unknown

Hi Everyone!

      It's been a while since I last wrote! To be honest, the reason I've been so foot loose and fancy free (and neglecting my blog) is because I have started to feel like the old Ashley again. The morning sickness and energy crashes that the first trimester brought have since dissipated, and have been replaced with a fresh burst of enthusiasm for life and this pregnancy. So, to put it bluntly, I stopped writing because I woke up one morning, looked around my house and thought, wow, I'm living like a pig! Where did all those dishes in the sink come from? Why does the laundry pile look tall enough to be a fort? I was finally able to shake the cobwebs off my feet and start taking back control over the condition of my house, the groceries in my refrigerator, and the goals I had for this pregnancy. Now that I feel more caught up with my life, I feel ready to sit down and update all you lovely readers on the past month, and how I'd feeling today.

      First off, may I say, no...shout from the rooftops, that I absolutely love the second trimester! I seriously feel like I could be Julie Andrews from the Sound of Music in that classic scene when she's skipping through the fields of flowers and singing, that's how much I adore this phase of pregnancy. The nausea has subsided, and in it's wake are a few bouts of acid reflux at night, which can be quelled by munching on pineapple (who would have thought? When my midwife told me to replace Zantac with pineapple I was skeptical but it really does work!). My energy has mostly returned, and with it came my drive to take back the pride I had in the condition of my home. My hormonal moments are still present, but it's made me take notice of a softer side to my personality, one that tears up while reading a love note left by my husband, one that appreciates the goodness and sadness in life with a fresh perspective. It's become quite beautiful. Some new symptoms have arisen: headaches that pierce the back of my eyes and temples, a burning sensation as my belly stretches into a more accommodating home for our little one, back aches, nose bleeds, and trouble sleeping. But, to be honest with you, I've come to accept these symptoms as part of the process, and that acceptance has brought an abundance of peace and joy. I can't express how happy Russ and I were to finish the first trimester and realize that the most unstable part of pregnancy had passed, that the chances of miscarrying were substantially lowered, and that we could spend more time admiring this little person moving and squiggling within me.

      I have physically changed quite a bit in the past month or so since I last wrote. My stomach has begun to resemble the sun, round and warm, and within it is a growing earth (my, aren't I poetic today?). Here are some pictures of this transformation from week 14 until week 17:

    
      I'm not the only one who has changed! Russ and I's little peanut has grown into a small person. The baby now has bones, eyes that can register light, the ability to hear, and...my favorite new attribute...a big enough presence for me to feel when he/she moves. The baby absolutely loves his/her father's voice, and Russ and I often marvel at how much our child moves when Russell is reading our night time devotion to my belly. For those of you who've never experienced pregnancy, I'll try to describe what it feels like when your child is dancing within your womb...it's often compared to butterfly wings, fluttering within you. That's exactly how my mother described her pregnancy. Although this is true, it's a little abstract. What it reminds me of is that moment when you've reached the top of a hill before a huge drop on a roller coaster, and your coaster suddenly tips forward and sends you hurling towards the earth...that feeling in your belly of everything lifting and turning, it's kinda like that. It's a surreal experience. Here's an updated picture of the baby at 15 weeks, 4 days, with a heart beat of 148 beats/min (although this has fluctuated since this picture, and is often in the 150 range).

      Isn't our baby sweet! Look at that nose! That nose is a mix of Russ and Dougie. And that chin is my husband all the way. Oh I cannot wait until the end of the month, when we get our next ultrasound. I'm so excited to see more of that face!!

      So, you are now updated on my life. I'll write again soon to dive into some of my recent realizations, but for now, I'll leave on this high note =)

Uh, Honey, Are You Okay?

 "I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." Philippians 4:13

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      Ya know, I was warned about the effect hormones would have on my emotions when I got pregnant. I knew that I may cry easier or feel overwhelmed more often, but I have a tissue box, certainly I wouldn't feel like a crazy person...right?...anybody?... I was wrong, lol. It's really awkward to have to explain to someone you barely know..."no, really, I'm fine. Crying because my plans have been changed is a hormonal pregnancy thing, I really am fine." Welcome to the crazy train. You're life becomes a a hectic mess of dodging the dreaded SPCA or St Jude commercials, welling up because someone you don't even know is crying, and feeling like everyone is yelling at you. It's kinda like a more hardcore version of puberty - complete with zits. It's exacerbated my already present anxiety...it's like you're Ralphie from The Christmas Story and bullies Farkus and Grover are magnificently played by your hormones and anxiety. It's a two against one fight. Now, I would like to point out that eventually Ralphie beats the snot out of Farkus and Grover, but it takes a while and it's only after reaching a breaking point. Well, I've hit my breaking point. Yesterday was a really tough day, I felt lost in the throes of ever mounting anxiety, which was constantly finding nourishment in my new found hypersensitivity. It was exhausting, and eventually the continual stress manifested itself in headaches, stomach and chest pain. Enough is enough. Do I accept that, due to perfectly natural reasons, I am going to feel more sensitive and may cry in inappropriate places/situations. Yes. I know that I can't control that. But, do I accept ruminating on situations that I can't control and allowing anxiety to keep a grip on my life? Absolutely not. This body isn't just mine anymore, my baby is growing in here, and it's not fair that he or she is exposed to extra, unneeded stress. That may mean I won't be able to have a squeaky clean house, dinner made every night, or projects completed until this part of my pregnancy passes, but so be it. I'm not going to overwhelm or guilt myself into doing things that I don't have the energy, or stomach, to do that day. And anyone who tries to pressure me beyond what I can handle that day can have the full wrath of my hormones (kidding...or am I?)

      I've thought about some proactive ways to combat my stress, so it doesn't have any negative effects on the baby.

1. Accept my limitations. This will be on a moment by moment basis. I'm a perfectionist. There isn't a single person in the world that can be more critical of my words, actions and projects then myself. I am always searching myself on ways I can improve, and although this helped rocket me to the top of many of my college courses, it can be devastating when applied to the minute details of life. Some days I need to just lay on the couch and rest, just because Susie has a full time career and goes to the gym everyday while five months pregnant doesn't mean I will ever be able to do all that. I am who I am and I need to accept that my needs and body are unique.

2. Whether I want to or not, I need to meditate. Researchers from Harvard Medical School delved into the benefits of meditation, "they found genes that protect from disorders such as pain, infertility, high blood pressure and even rheumatoid arthritis were switched on. The changes, say the researchers, were induced by what they call 'the relaxation effect', a phenomenon that could be just as powerful as any medical drug but without the side effects. 'We found a range of disease-fighting genes were active in the relaxation practitioners that were not active in the control group,'" (Stephens, A. http://foodmatters.tv/articles-1/7-health-benefits-of-meditation). In other words, certain genes are responsive to the environment and mood of the host, and those genes can be turned on or off depending on those variables. Meditation can influence positive, protective genes to turn on. I have chosen to explore meditation by focusing on the Bible. I want to make it my new habit to spend some quite moments in God's Word, and then to focus on how that reading can apply to my life. I'm going to start doing this today.

3. Better lifestyle habits. In the beginning of  pregnancy, you will try anything just to relieve the nausea. If that means having a diet mainly consistent on crackers, candied ginger and tea, you do what you have to do. But as the pregnancy progresses and your food choices expand you may find yourself still, well, stuck. I can't eat solid proteins (steak filet or grilled chicken) or munch on my comfort foods (soups and Italian food). Even salads can be a challenge (unless you forgo any vegetable other then lettuce, carrots and cucumbers...and there isn't any salad dressing). So what do you have left? Breads, sugars, fruits, some veggies, some protein. It's easy start eating unhealthy out of digestive comfort and habit. It's also less time consuming, especially when you're always running on empty. However, to be honest, even typing all this just feels like excuses. I need to come up with a plan on how to turn my eating habits around. I still don't have a lot of options, but I have enough wiggle room where I should be doing better then I am. I also need to put aside a little bit of time every week to exercise, even if it's only stretching.

      Like I said, hormones are hormones and I don't see that changing anytime soon, but I can control my anxiety a little better. Writing has become a really excellent outlet, but I need to forge more weapons against my old, anxious foe. Verse to remember while I'm reining in these emotions: “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble." Matthew 6:34.