Ramona Trent family photos

I have insanely talented friends--just feel blessed that way. One of them, the lovely Ramona Trent (equally lovely name) takes exquisite photos of mamas, babies, and families. If you're in the SoCal area you might give yourself a gift of a session with her.

Let's travel back in time a couple months...

Recognize that person? Yours truly about 3 weeks before my due date.

This one below is my absolute fave. Am going to (one day in the future when I do house projects again) get it enlarged, printed, and framed.

And here are some from her site that I love.

I think I'm becoming obsessed with family portraiture.

Ramona is a dream to work with, brings all sorts of cool fabrics to act as backdrops if you shoot indoors and want to use them (we did some with her grandmother's antique lace that are too nudey for the internet but that are pretty amazing) , and is one of those photographers that has that treasured virtue called patience, so you're not stuck feeling like you have to make silly faces for the camera and get the shot in the next 2 minutes or else. I so recommend getting in touch with her up if you've been thinking of getting some shots of you or your babe or your family done. She has one package which is 3 sessions with your baby over the course of a year. Is it too late for me to ask for another birthday present?

As I write this, Luciana is asleep in the Moby wrap (my new lifesaver since she doesn't seem to want to nap during the morning otherwise) and making high grunty dream sounds. Where is she in that vast subconscious housed in that tiny head of hers? I don't get to know, but I think she's having quite the adventure.

Tasting Menu or How Luciana was Born

I started preparing for Luciana's birth many months ago. Over Thanksgiving, when I was about 7 weeks pregnant, I read Your Best Birth, watched The Business of Being Born, and hired my wonderful doula, Ilona.

By the end of the year, I'd read Ina Mae's Guide to Childbirth, interviewed several midwives, and scouted childbirth classes. In January, Sky and I chose our midwife, the extraordinary Debbie Frank, I'd read more books, was journaling to the baby regularly, had modified my exercise accordingly, etc etc etc. I was a prepared pregnant woman and I loved it. As my pregnancy progressed, and we took our childbirth class with Ana Paula Markel, and I read about labor and imagined it, I became really excited about what it could be like to give birth. Sky and friends would ask me from time to time if I was nervous or scared, and I always said No. I wasn't. I trusted my body and my ability to give birth completely. I trusted our baby; that she (though of course we didn't know she was a she) knew what she was doing. I knew I had an amazing team with Debbie and Ilona, and I took really good care of my body, doing prenatal yoga at Golden Bridge, swimming, walking on the beach, counting protein grams daily...(mamas, remember that?)

Monday

My due date, July 24th, came and went, and I was feeling more Braxton-Hicks contractions each day. On the evening of Monday the 26th I wasn't sure I was in labor when I felt waves of achiness in my lower back. After noticing that they came in intervals of about 10 minutes apart, and knowing that some women feel labor in their backs, I called Debbie. She said it might be a false alarm, and it might be the start of my labor, so I should see how/if it progresses and call her if they get to be 5 minutes apart. I had spoken to Ilona as well, so she knew it was a possibility. Sky came home from work, and we hung out on the couch, excited that this might be the beginning. And it was.

My contractions got closer together and a lot more intense. Sky called Ilona around midnight because I couldn't talk through them and was climbing around over the bed finding positions that might help what I was feeling pass more easily. She headed to our house. We called Debbie as well who thought it sounded like things were progressing enough that she came over too. We had the lights dim in the bedroom, which is where I was when they arrived. I'd pictured myself laboring in the open living room at the front of the house, but found all I wanted was to be in or near my bed. Everything about labor is so vivid: I have snapshots in my head of the exact dimness of the room, the exact song Debbie asked about, exactly how it felt having my head rubbed and my hips pressed.

The night got darker and later and my labor got more and more intense. My contractions were strong, about 6 minutes apart, but I never felt them in my belly--they were always in my back and in the sides of my hips. They were strong enough to the point that I was feeling sick. I was trying to connect to the spiritual part of birth, to remember that this was sacred and profound, but I was so nauseated and lightheaded that it was hard for me to do that. I actually fainted in the bathroom as I was about to throw up and Ilona woke me up as I vomited on the floor. The weird thing was that I wasn't progressing. Usually as contractions get stronger one does. I was dilated to 1 1/2 cm and 70% effaced, and I was still there in the early hours of the morning. Debbie felt, though, that our baby was coming soon--that the 27th would be his/her birthday.

However by 8am contractions has slowed way down--back to 10 minutes apart or so---and were mild enough that I could talk through them. It's not unheard of for labor to stop and start, so Debbie and Ilona went home and we all waited to see when it would start back up in earnest.

Tuesday

Sky and I got a little sleep that morning. I'd wake every 30-60 minutes with a stronger contraction, but most were mild enough that I slept through them. Ilona called her acupuncturist who does house calls. He came over and spent 2 hours doing acupressure and needles on me. Ilona went home. I learned then that if I had to, hard as it might be, I could stay still during a contraction. That would be helpful if I wanted to conserve energy, say, at night. We called Debbie and Ilona again, figured this was it, and they came over. Same thing as Monday. Strong contractions got weaker. I dilated to 2 and didn't go past. That night we slept a little more; I never for more than an hour or so: labor never stopped just got very manageable. Again, this happens: early labor goes on for days with some women. Debbie thought it was a little unusual that I'd have periods of such intensity without progressing into active labor, but we felt my body and the baby were taking their time, and all would go full steam ahead when they were ready.

Wednesday

I got super emotional. Went into the baby's/my meditation room and cried and cried. I was scared I wasn't going to go into real labor; I was confused at what wasn't happening; I felt completely powerless over being able to move things along. I knew pressure on myself would most likely keep it from happening, so I prayed to trust, prayed to be on the ride with no expectations, and tried to give myself a break--I'd been pretty much up for 48 hours. Sky and I went down to the beach for a walk which felt so good as I'd spent so much time there walking during my pregnancy. Labor picked right back up. We liked the thought that the baby liked the ocean; could hear it and sense it, and that the ocean was urging the baby out. I couldn't do the walk and found myself hanging onto benches while Sky went for the car. We said a prayer that this was it. We talked to the baby. I talked to my body. Sent love and ease and asked for safe passage for mama and babe. Debbie was at the hospital with another patient who had just delivered, so she suggested we come there. If I was going into active labor, that made more sense than waiting for her to get to us and all of us to get back to the hospital. Sky grabbed the bags, called Ilona who was actually on her way to us, she turned around so she could meet us at the hospital, and I sat through a very difficult car ride. Cars just suck in labor; no way around it. I should say here, too, that still I felt everything in my back and hips. During a contraction, the pressure there would get so strong it felt like my whole back was spasming and nothing but incredibly strong pressure from Sky or Ilona on my hips would alleviate it even a little. But in between contractions the pressure didn't go away. It lessened, sure, from maybe an 8 to a 6, but I'd counted on having breaks in between contractions and when I was in the strong phases of my labor there were no breaks, and I knew this was tiring me out physically and emotionally. I knew I was going to be drawing on all the reserves I had, but I was glad to do it---that's what I'd expected labor to ask of me.

At the hospital I breathed a huge sigh of relief because I'd progressed to 4. Debbie felt we'd turned a corner. This was it. The baby was on the way. As much as I'd wanted a home birth when Sky and I first talked about what our plan would be, I really liked my room at Cedars and felt totally comfortable there. I had my team, our nurse had worked with Debbie lots before and was a huge advocate of natural childbirth, the room was big and sunny, I could get in and out of the shower. The baby sounded perfect on the monitor--through all of this the hummingbird's heart rate had never faltered. Already I knew I had a strong little being on my hands.

By Wednesday evening, though, I'd been discharged. Once again, everything had slowed down, and I was still at 4. This time before we went home, Debbie sat on the end of my bed and told me that if this pattern continued for another 24 hours, I'd need to seriously consider pitocin to advance the dilation of my cervix. The risk we were starting to face was that my uterus could tire out, and if that happened, and it wasn't able to contract strongly enough to get the baby down, pitocin would be a necessity. However, if it was too tired it wouldn't respond to pitocin, and then I'd be looking at a C-section. I understood, but in the moment it felt devastating. All I wanted was to have my baby completely naturally. I didn't want her drugged, I didn't want to not be able to feel her coming out. I, again, was baffled and humbled and shocked that my body wasn't doing what I was so sure it knew how to do. I felt now I had a timeline. I felt a little ashamed with Sky--like I was letting him down too by not being able to do this. All of this was in my head, but it was enough to have me on edge and easily upset. We went home, I tried to eat, we tried to laugh, I didn't succeed at either, but I had a couple of 2-hour stretches of sleep that night and that did help me feel less wound up in the morning.

Thursday

I emailed Debbie and told her I'd slept. She said that was great news: it didn't sound like I was in labor anymore, which meant I didn't have to worry about a timeline. My body was resting, which was what it needed to do. We'd see this baby when it was ready. By about 10, however, I was in the most excruciating pain in my back that I'd ever felt. It was unrelenting, and I didn't think it was labor. I figured my back was exhausted from the 3 days before, and Sky called my acupuncturist and made an appointment with her. My mom drove me as I groaned the entire drive, and on the table in Dr. Hu's office I could tell that what I was in was the strongest labor I'd been in yet. I could feel contractions in my belly as well as my back. Knowing it was labor gave me a little extra stamina, even though it was painful to the point of more tears. Sky picked me up from the appointment and we drove to Debbie's office where I had my weekly appointment scheduled with her.

I was moving over the couch and floor of her office when she walked in. I don't think I'll ever forget the expression on her face when she asked me if I was in labor--I read it as shock which it could have been since I hadn't called her in what seemed to be the most active phase of labor yet. I moaned, "I don't know; I don't know" and she said I certainly looked like a woman in labor. She checked me--still 4---and suggested I head to the hospital and she'd meet us there. My labor seemed to have kicked into a different gear. Of course we found Ilona, who again would meet us at the Cedars entrance. On the way to the hospital after a particularly loud yell through one contraction my water broke. it's unmistakeable when it happens---a warm gush that keeps gushing. Although I was struggling to feel OK in the car, I was thrilled that it had broken, as it seemed the baby was that much closer, and when a man in an SUV tried to cut us off at our left turn to the hospital, I stared him dead in the eye from the car window, gave him a particular finger, and yelled a name at him I won't print here. He let us go.

At the hospital things felt different. I knew the baby would be born tonight or early Friday morning. I moaned and moved into any position I could think of, Sky and Ilona pushed, massaged and held me, I got in and out of the shower, Debbie checked the baby periodically, and the baby was doing great. I knew we were on our way. But at 5:00pm I was still 4 cm. Debbie advised me to get pitocin for the reasons we'd talked about yesterday. I was crushed. I knew, though, that she was right. At first I said I wanted to do it with no epidural---I so wanted to stay connected to my body during this. About 10 minutes later, though, I had to admit to myself that I was being stubborn about an idea I had. I had reached my limit. It had been almost 72 hours, my body was exhausted, I was in crazy pain in my back that was only going to increase with pitocin and I had a long way to go to get to 10cm. I said I wanted an epidural. Sky told me to wait because I'd made him promise that if I asked for drugs to make me wait. I told him, and I remember feeling meek about it, that I had to get help if I was going to get pitocin. Again, I was ashamed, I was so sad, I was humbled in a way I didn't want to be humbled. This was not going according to the beautiful plan I'd written out--not at all. This was not my idea of myself in labor---not at all.

The next 7 hours were one long half-dream. I wanted to curl up inside of myself when I was given the anaesthesia. I didn't want to be me. I didn't want to be here. I was worried about my baby and the effects drugs would have on her. Debbie told me how important it was to rest. So until 2 am I lay in the hospital bed, Sky lay sometimes on the couch and sometimes in bed with me. Ilona went home, Debbie would come in and out. Day turned to night; I half slept here and there. I rested my hands on my belly and I prayed. Prayed that the baby be OK. Prayed that my body open up, visualized it opening like a rose, like the ocean, prayed for the willingness to accept what was going on with an open heart, prayed to surrender ideas I had about what was right. Listened to one of my favorite mantras --Ra Ma Da Sa --over and over (sung by Mirabai Ceiba and if I could play it here I would. It's a beautiful beautiful mantra for healing). I play that mantra for Luciana now when I am helping her get to sleep---it works like magic on her---and it's only in the last day that I can listen without crying. It takes me back to lying in that semi-darkness, talking to Debbie and Sky now and then, waiting and silently begging that my body see this through.

Friday

At 2am I knew by Debbie's face when she checked me that I hadn't changed. So we had the discussion I never thought I'd have. My only option left was to have a C-section. I can't even say that I started crying here. I'd been one continuous leak for hours, sometimes turned up and sometimes turned down. I process lots through crying, and I don't want to give the impression I was weeping through this whole thing out of sadness or hopelessness, but there simply were lots of tears. This journey was requiring me to use every ounce of strength I had physically, emotionally and spiritually. I was being humbled beyond humble, the thing-that-was-never-going-to-happen was happening. Sky and I asked for a few moments of privacy and decided we wanted to try with the pitocin for a couple more hours. Debbie had Oked that. If nothing changed by 4am I'd have the surgery. We prayed, manifested, visualized, hugged each other, talked to the baby, and I tried to quiet my soul. At 4 Debbie came in. I honestly didn't expect it to have changed---I'll say that. I think I had to go to that place so I could prepare myself for what might be happening next. I was still 4cm. She had called my back-up doctor, who I really liked, which is a blessing, and at 4:30, after 9 hours of more pitocin than Debbie said she'd given anyone ever, I was shaved to be ready for surgery and wheeled into the OR.

If one is planning on having a C-section, or if one has to have one as a last-minute surprise, I hope you get a team as lovely as the one I had. Everyone was so kind; the anaesthesiologist was so attentive, Sky and Debbie were with me. The lights in the OR were so bright after all the time I'd spent in low-lit rooms. I had a moment of being sure I was dreaming, that I would be awake any second. The hormones from laboring plus the anaesthesia had me shaking uncontrollably on the table. Debbie kept her hands on my shoulders and my head, and I'd reach up and hold her hand when I needed to. I was trying so hard not to cry. I was numbed, the drape was up, they said I'd feel a pushing and pressure when they were going in to get her; I sent light and grace with my thoughts to the doctors, I felt what they said I'd feel, and at 5:12 am on July 29 our baby was born. The doctors asked Sky if he wanted to "call the baby". He stood up and told me it was a girl. That I'd gotten my girl. I need not tell you that I....cried. Or whimpered. Or something. I had my girl. My beautiful, Sky told me, little girl. I heard her cry; I couldn't hold her right away-- with a C-section they need to suction her immediately. But I could hear that cry that every once in a while she makes here in the house. I think I could pick it out from 10,000 babies' cries. I knew Sky was with her, I knew she had his love around her. I told Debbie to tell him to tell our daughter that everything was OK. It was probably only a few minutes, but nothing I know has felt longer, til I could see her. If half an hour before I'd been sure I was dreaming, now I was awake into a different reality. My baby had been born, and I was waiting desperately to see her.

The doctors told me what had caused the crazy ride this had been: her little head had turned ever so slightly and gotten wedged in my pelvis. No amount of pressure from my faithful uterus was moving her. The angle was slight enough that even in the ultrasound Debbie did on Thursday it was undetectable. But there was no way she would have come out through my pelvis.

Sky brought her to me and lay us cheek to cheek. My hands were still shaking so much I couldn't touch her. All I wanted to do was touch her. I could see her little face, my baby's little face. My hummingbird was of this world now. It's true what they all say: there is nothing like the love you feel for your baby when you hear her, see her, feel her. The doctors finished sewing me up and they rolled me (literally) off the table onto the bed I'd recover in for a couple of hours. Then they gave her to me. I had my girl in my arms, wrapped up like the gift she is. I didn't get my instant skin-to-skin contact, she hadn't fed in her first 5 minutes of life, but she was OK and I was OK and we were starting our life together.

As soon as we were in the recovery room we unwrapped her, placed her on my chest, and she started to nurse. We make sure we spend at least an hour each day lying tummy to tummy no clothes on, and that might be my favorite hour of the day. Because I'd had a C, we were in the hospital until Monday. I'd heard the nurses at Cedars were wonderful, and it was true. As much as I wouldn't have wished for several days in the hospital, there was something magical about being in that cocoon. Our families came by, a couple of friends, I told this story a couple of times and cried through every telling. That's just me. And a lot of postpartum hormones. Other than those few visits, and the frequent check-ups by the nurses, Sky and Luciana and I holed up and we fell more and more in love with her. We hope she's half as much in love with us.

Now we've been home for 2 weeks. Unbelieveable. I've been asked by different friends what happened in our birth, and each time I tell the story I still cry. But it's not because I'm sad about it or have regrets about it. It happened how it happened. Not at all what I planned, and someday I know it will all make sense to me. I get emotional more because it was simply the biggest thing I've ever gone through. I knew having a baby would be. I knew it would change me; I knew it would ask me to go to places I didn't even know I had in me to go to. I just thought the map and the roadside attractions would be very different. Rather than the triumphant warrior goddess breathing her baby out, I was a trembling, teary woman brought to her knees. And that, in its way, is another kind of bravery and another kind of goddess, to have the willingness to be present for something as challenging as it was, and I know that. In a way, I feel this birth required me to be stronger than had I had the one I envisioned. I get to thank myself and thank Luciana for being able enough to undergo 86 hours of labor and a major surgery. At one week post-op I was going on hour-long walks with little discomfort, and Luciana has been thriving. And she does not feel less loved or bonded to for having been airlifted instead of squeezed through the birth canal. It's still a bit surreal to me: I have many moments where I can't wrap my head around the fact that I had a C-section, but I did. What a flesh-and-blood experience of life not going according to my plan.

I joke that I'm someone who always wants to try everything on the menu, and I did that with birth. I labored naturally at home, in 2 offices, on the beach, in the car and in the hospital. I labored with pitocin and an epidural. And ultimately I tried a C-Section. I know what every kind of labor feels like now:) And I know, too, from firsthand experience, that a C-section is still a birth. It is a powerful, brave thing that a woman does to bring her baby into the world. It can be sacred and holy and just right for that child. I also know that while this felt huge to me, and was huge, I have a beautiful healthy baby and I am healthy and here for her. And I am so so so so so lucky and grateful that this is so. Luciana came into the world with her arms wide open, ready to embrace every part of it. I already feel the world is doing that back to her.

Luciana 12 days

I'm working on my birth story. It's taking me a while. In the meantime, I have nothing to tell you about my life that doesn't involve my daughter. No new recipes, no outings, just cocooned in the baby bubble. So here she is in her first week at home. She's 12 days old now.

Adventures include:

Meeting both grandmas

Having several baths and getting to use what is perhaps my favorite item in the baby layette: the hoodie towel

Ahem, my daughter fell asleep with her hand in the mudra of knowledge.

We love Instagram

especially when our friends fit the 1977 option so well

We take a long time to get out of bed in the mornings, and I usually return there to nap with her once a day. That's her burp face.

She's my angel. Asleep and awake.

She's Here

I didn't run off to Zanzibar.

WE HAD OUR BABY

It's true what they say: sometimes I don't make it to the shower and suddenly it's 8:00 at night. All I can say is that I'm that person who stares at her child while the child sleeps. And somehow the day flies by.

Birth was.....bigger than anything I could have dreamed. I want to tell you the story, and I need to figure out structuring real writing into my day.

But most of all I want to introduce you......

Here SHE is (she's a girl!!!! I knew it!!!!!)

Luciana Arabella Meltzer

pictured here at 3 days old

Born July 29, 2011 5:12 am

a Leo lady born with the lucky new moon

Mama and Daddy have never felt so much love.

She makes us laugh so hard with the noises and expressions that come out of her, and yesterday I spent the day off and on in tears because I love her so much and know, as I knew within the first 3 seconds of her life, that I would die 10 times over for her.

Sky calls newborns feathers with skin. She's becoming less of a feather-she's incredibly strong and has been from the first-- but that delicacy, that precious tiny body with the big life inside it---it's love beyond any scope I know. Sky and I have said to each other in the last couple of days that she doesn't feel new to us. We just met her, but it feels like she's been here all along. All through our time together, perhaps all through my or his life from as far back as we want to go, it's like she's been there, with us, waiting to be born.

All in the Family

As I write this, I think I'm in pre-labor. Not early labor--I'm not actually feeling contractions--but there are other signs and my lower back is aching and aching in waves. So I'm running a bath, listening to the Relaxing birth playlist as opposed to the Energizing one--I made both--and knowing this could go on for a few days or I could go into labor tonight.

A few days ago I was meditating on the baby---I meditate in the baby's room because it's light and bright and peaceful and a space that I love being in. It's the room Sky and I have done yoga in, the room I journal and read in. It nourishes me, and I like knowing I'm maybe contributing to serenity in there by attempting to seek it in myself, for better or for worse. So I was imagining the spirit that it will be living in our home outside of me soon, and I had a flash of all the history that went into the making of this baby: all the ancestors that have made this person possible, and felt such respect and love for them. Flashed on the generations of my family, and the generations of Sky's. Saw the faces of our parents, aunts, uncles, siblings, grandparents, great-aunts, imagined people I've never known but who I know are in the family tree. I believe our baby is a soul unto themselves, but that soul is coming into our family, so they are connected to all the people that have made Sky and me who we are, and perhaps share traits and qualities with some of them. We're the narrow neck of the funnel, but there is a wide wide mouth of family above us. As Nina in The Seagull says, "My heart is full of you"--that's how I felt towards everyone in our families--the people I or we have easy relationships with and the ones we don't; the ones we know well, the ones we never met. This lineage of people being focused and directed at this moment into our baby. It felt right and really good, to honor and acknowledge everyone that has come before us, without whom Sky and I wouldn't be here, wouldn't be living our lives, wouldn't be getting ready to experience the birth of our hummingbird. Who I believe is coming very very very soon....

all photos by Sally Mann

this one from here

here

and here

Belly on Blue

You all know I have the most rad sister-in-law in the world. Amazing designer, crafty person, party planner, blogger, MAMA, and yes, photographer. She popped over yesterday with my nephew and snapped a few quick end-of-the-road belly shots. I LOVE them.

The turquoise wall is the accent wall of our nursery--I promise I'll post pics of the whole house sometime this year--and it's such a perfect photo wall. Who knew? I love that there's one with Sky in it too. He is, after all, a rather key element in this whole journey.

I have some more maternity pics taken by my friend, the beautiful Ramona Trent that I'll be posting once I have a disc. There are a lot of nude ones in that set, though, so most of them won't make it on the internet. I'm picky that way.

So here we are. 40 weeks on Sunday. My birthday is tomorrow, so as of now it's looking like each year we'll celebrate my birthday and then baby's....but anything can happen between now and.....now.

Blessaway

38 weeks

39 weeks.....

Each time I post I wonder if it'll be the last time before the baby, who's due on Sunday. I was up Tues morning from 1:30-4am just lying there for no apparent reason. Of course I wondered if something was about to start; it didn't; I finally went back to sleep and we're still here.....

Last week my mom put together something really beautiful for me that if you're having a baby you could ask someone to do for you, or if you know someone who's having one this could be a spectacular gift. She organized a tiny blessing for me and for the baby with a few of my closest friends that will always be one of the most gorgeous afternoons of my life. It's a very different one from the kundalini one I had months ago, although clearly you can see I like a good blessing.

This one is a Navajo tradition called a Blessaway (as in Bless the Way I'm assuming....), and in their culture it's the tribal elders who do this for the new mama; since there's a shortage of elders in our modern community, my mom asked some women that she knows are part of my Tribe. There were 7 of us in total including the baby, who does not count as me:) My mom asked my friends to each bring a candle, a bead or button, and a blessing or poem or prayer for me and/or the baby, and we met for a couple of hours on a warm afternoon.

If this starts to sound hokey, keep reading. I promise you it isn't.

Once everyone was gathered, everyone lit their candles and each person told about the bead they had brought. There was a Venetian glass heart, a carnelian, 2 pieces (coincidentally) of turquoise, and a silver flower. They are for strength, for connection to the earth, for openness, for new passages.....My mom collected them all and the next day gave me a blue silk cord with the beads threaded onto it. They've become a necklace I'll wear in labor and from which I can borrow strength from women that support and love me.

Then they all read the blessing or wish they had brought. I was a weepy mess from before we even began--I was having one of those days anyway and then you add something like this on top of it--and I was a goner. There are no pictures, in fact, because you don't need to see what I looked like after hearing what everyone wrote. They were all so different and all so beautiful. Some wrote their own, some brought poems from favorite writers, one had hers in her head and just spoke it to me which was perfect. My mom, again, collected them and compiled them into a journal for me which will be the place I continue to write to my baby once s/he is born. I've been writing since before conception, but soon enough that book will be full, and I'll have this one to keep for her or for him.

When the ritual part was over we sat around and did what women do well: eat pretty things and drink tea.

It's funny---this week I feel like labor is close because I'm not talkative AT ALL. It's like I don't have a vocabulary for what I'm feeling--the anticipation of the unanticipatable....the knowledge that I know what to do and I have no idea what I'll be doing.....So there's not a lot I'm going to say about this. I hope you get the idea. It meant everything to me to have my friends and my mom channeling their prayers for the baby's and my journey to the next phase of our life together. To be connected as women to the journeys we all make--like we give our strength and love and belief to the one that needs it and then it's given back to us when we do.

One of my best friends in the world who lives in New York and happened to be in town the day we were doing this wrote me what's below for her blessing. If you're a mama, or want to be a mama, or know someone who's starting out as a mama, maybe you'll love this as much as I do.

I wish for you

I wish for you to know your magical connected orbit of wonder, the goddess miracle momma you are

I wish for you to never lose patience when things get spilled by the babe, instead say "no biggie!" so when you spill the babe says to you "no biggie" and that you be proud that you are teaching the lesson of don't sweat the small stuff

I wish for you to never doubt your magic

I wish for you to embrace our family parenting tattoo-ed to wrist mantra THERE IS NO PERFECT

I wish for you many bubble baths with bubble pie tea parties for you & the babe

I wish for you to remember to be super gentle & loving to yourself at 4am; no expectations when in HALT*

I wish for you that when you show the babe each first, you get to see it as if for the first time

I wish for you many many dance parties and car sing alongs that make you giggle with glee

I wish for you that you and Sky forgive each other easily for what is said in the middle of the night when the babe is wailing

I wish for you to never tire of hearing "momma!" or "mommy!" or even "mooooooooooom"--even when it's shrieked by a 15-yr-old hormonal teen in deep sarcastic revolt

I wish for you the easiest latch-on and breastfeeding ever, and if you have a girl, when you are done, you get to see her play with a doll and pretend to feed her with such love & joy & care that you get to see that your babe knows how much you love them daily

I wish for you to let your child awaken parts, dark and light, and let them grow in you in amazing ways

I wish for you that when your babe has temper tantrums, at 2 or 32, you never take it personally, breathe, and love him/her through it all

I wish for you to know it's what they eat in a week, not a day

I wish for you to that you let special childrens' books make you cry, even after 100 readings

I wish for you to be okay with yourself when you just want a day off

I wish for you to fall deeper in love with Sky as he expands to fulfill his role as a papa, and patience with him as he stumbles through it, making choices you might not love

I wish for you that you take in how much he falls head over heels for you again, in a new way, as goddess mama

I wish for you to fall in love with swings, and merry go rounds, and twinkle twinkle little star all over again

I wish for you to be willing to "all fall down" even when RING AROUND THE ROSY is ringing in your head

I wish for you that you giggle and don't cringe when you first hear yourself slip & call Sky "Daddy"

I wish for you to TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF & remember happy mama, happy babe, happy family

I wish for you to know whatever stage it is that is breaking your heart, driving you crazy, scaring the crap out of you or making you feel worthless, not enough, or like a failure as a parent, that THIS TOO SHALL PASS

I wish for you a child who communicates to you, in their own special way, that they know all you give and teach, and share how much they appreciate it

I wish for you that you actually go on dates with your hubby and DON'T TALK ABOUT SCHEDULING OR THE BABY

I wish for you to laugh and not be ashamed when you recognize a trait in your parenting from your parents

I wish for you to forgive yourself when you don't like the way you parented in a moment, and to remember you always have a second chance

I wish for you the bliss of sleeping with a baby on your chest, and the freedom & joy of getting back your bed with your soulmate

I wish for you to have faith beyond words that YOU CAN DO IT ALL, just on God's time

I wish for you that "I'm sorry" comes easily to all in your family, and it is truly meant when said

I wish for you to remember that anything is possible

I wish for you to trust your gut as a mama, and when you get scared, take a moment, take a breath, and check in with your own heart first, then know there are so many of us waiting to be asked

I wish for you that parenthood makes it even easier to laugh at yourself and be willing to be wrong

I wish for you that you don't get afraid your baby is freezing (or in your case perhaps broiling) to death the first night home, and you actually get some rest

I wish for you that you remember forever the feel of your babe's lap on yours, that it fills you beyond measure, and you relish reading every single word of every story ever told

I wish for you that when everyone says "sleep when the baby sleeps" it doesn't drive you ape shit like it did me and you actually LISTEN

I wish for you to breathe in every moment you can and embrace the moments you thought you couldn't

I wish for you to surrender to the wonder of the escalator, and see a new thing the 50th time you have to go up and down in a day

I wish for you that you know your true friends will never judge you about anything parenting, birth, life, ANYTHING

I wish for you to be amazed at the fullness of heart this person creates, the fountain of love, miracle of it all, and especially to remember that when they are screaming for you at 1am

I wish for you a photographic memory that takes in every magical moment and stores it for the perfect moment to remember

I wish for you to never tire of "WHY?" or eveeeeeeerything

I wish for you that when you see bits of your body changed from pregnancy you smile & glow with the miracle you created

I wish for you a birth story that makes you shine every time you tell it

If you're not familiar with the HALT acronym, it stands for Hungry Angry Lonely Tired: when you're to much of any of those things it's time to take it really easy with yourself.

A few pics of baby's friends just waiting for their master or mistress in the nursery....

Soon soon soon.

Birth Plan and Why We're Having the Baby in a Hospital

Friday already! Love a short holiday week, though I am on a fairly permanent weekend schedule til the hummingbird arrives. Thought I'd share my birth plan today. I found it so helpful when I was writing mine to read other women's, and I definitely borrowed from them as well as got help from my midwife when I brought it to our appointment this week for her to read.

We are having a midwife, Debbie Frank attend the birth. Debbie has been a midwife for 30 years, has had, at different times in her practice, exclusively home or hospital births, and now she does both. She's the only one in LA that I could fine that does. I heard of her through my doula, Ilona, who I adore and completely recommend. Sky and I chose to work with Debbie when we couldn't decide on home or hospital birth. We loved her from the first meeting, and didn't need to give her a decision about home or hospital til 34 weeks. We decided long before that, though. I was very gung-ho for delivering at home, and Sky was too, for the most part, yet there was a little nagging part of him that kept saying "What if...." What IF we're the 1 in 1000 that has a crazy scary complication and we can't get to the hospital fast enough and.....too scary to keep thinking about. We talked a lot about it, and ultimately decided we would have this first baby at the hospital. I was incredibly resistant, because it's essential to me that birth me private, intimate, with no large crowds of hospital staff I've never met before. Space is really important to me, and the sterile impersonal room of a hospital felt like the antithesis of my birthing dream. Ultimately, what I decided however, is that it's most important to me that Sky be relaxed. If he were to be tense and scared I knew my labor would stall and I'd end up in the hospital anyway. Listening to him and how secure he felt being with Debbie and ultimately delivering at Cedars, I said OK.

I took a tour of Cedars, came back with a list of 25 questions for Debbie about procedures there, and was reassured that when you work with her there it's different. She'll come to our house first and be with us as I labor at home. When it's time to go to the hospital, she calls and says we're on our way, they get a room ready, and when we get there it's her, us, Ilona, and a nurse. That's it. As with any hospital, I can bring scents and pillows and music and photos and anything else I want to make the room feel more like mine. I don't get evaluated in their evaluation room, and Debbie and I have worked out ahead of time monitoring, IVs, etc. Once I had a day of mourning the letting-go of my home-birth vision, I started to visualize the hospital, how we'll make it personal, and to actually feel excited that for that first night of the baby's life someone is going to be checking on us repeatedly and letting us know everything is OK. Plus we're near Joan's on Third, which whoever comes to visit us in the hospital first has to bring us.

So that being said, here's my plan. There are certain things that I don't have on mine because Debbie will be with me and we know that. If I was in a practice where I didn't know who would be delivering the baby, or I was in a more traditional medical model, I might have chosen to include things like wanting to push in different positions, delaying cutting and clamping of the cord, skin-to-skin contact immediately, and that we're exclusively breast-feeding. What's on this plan is what Debbie and I agree it's helpful for the nurses to know specifically regarding labor and delivery.

Birth Plan for Melanie

photo from here and yes, I do need chalkboard paint so I can do this

Barring complications, Sky and I are planning for a natural labor and delivery with no medical interventions or augmentations. Thank you so much for your support and help.

*I understand the baby needs to be monitored. I prefer intermittent monitoring with the Doppler.

*I am not planning on taking any pain medication or having an epidural. Please help me to avoid them, and please do not offer them to me.

*Please do not ask me to "assign a number to my pain". (this is something nurses at Cedars are told to do: rate pain on a scale from 1-10. This is a cerebral exercise and birth is anything but. Asking to skip this lets the nurses off the hook and saves me from an intellectual exercise I have no interest in doing)

*I wish to move around freely; to eat lightly if I feel hungry, to drink if I feel thirsty.

*I do not want an IV or a hep lock. If, out of medical necessity, the need for one arises, please place a hep lock rather than an IV if I do not need continuous fluids or medication.

*I wish to deny active management of the third stage of labor, and would like that pitocin not be given to me to speed up the delivery of the placenta. (This is a state of California law that they offer pitocin to speed up placenta delivery. But you can deny it.)

*We are choosing to decline the erithromycin eye ointment, and I understand that I need to sign a waiver certifying this.

*We are choosing to decline the Vitamin K injection. (We're giving the baby oral Vitamin K which you can find at the Birth Sanctuary, as well as online)

*We do not wish to be separated from our baby. If the baby needs to be taken from me for medical intervention, Sky will accompany the baby at all times.

We understand that these are our wishes and not guarantees. Thank you again for your help!!!!

I'm going to bring a stash of mom's cookies for the nurses---I hear from every woman that bringing treats is a great way to win friends, as well as remembering their names.

With William and Kate here this weekend, and Carmageddon, ie the 405 closed next weekend, I am asking baby earnestly to please wait til near due date to arrive. Thanks, baby.