chickens, part one: incubating and hatching

Oh boy, it seems that I have taken about a million pictures of our little chicks. Really, it wouldn't be healthy to try and cram all of them into one post, so I'm splitting them up. We'll start at the beginning.

John has been asking if we could get chickens for two years now. His family had chickens while he was in high school (until it all came crashing down in a frenzy of floating feathers thanks to a frisky fox-- I was there that day and I still remember his mom running around the backyard in a sad state of semi-shock from trying to defend her poor chickens), and he knew he wanted to raise them again one day with his family. I wasn't too warm to the idea at first. There were a few very logical reasons for my hesitance, but I didn't want chicken poop all over my backyard, mostly. The more we talked about it this year though, the more I began to like the idea. We figured out the perfect spot in the yard to make a coop and a fenced off run for them so that their mess is confined and my kids can still play in the bulk of the yard without worrying about rolling around in poop. The thing that made our decision final though, was when I discovered that I could order fertile eggs and incubate and hatch them myself. I loved that idea so much. It was perfect because the teachers at school had wanted to do something like that for our students, too.

So without another thought I paid the $3.00 for each fertile egg (I got 4), rented an incubator for the week (only $5.00), and set up a little birthing (okay, hatching) station on my kitchen counter. I was actually really surprised to find myself feeling this wave of maternity as I gingerly transfered each warm egg from the towel that I had wrapped them in for the ride home into the incubator. I couldn't help but feel this womb-like attachment-- I know what it is like to incubate a living thing inside my body and I honestly felt a twinge of that same miracle-feeling as I handled each one of those delicate little orbs full of life. It was strangely inspiring and touching for me to think about the potential that was bottled up in those precious shells. And you guys, these are just chickens-- no wonder I am so crazy about the miracles of pregnancy and birth!

I knew that they would likely hatch on Wednesday (I had gotten them on Monday (April 25)), and is it embarrassing to say that I woke up several times throughout the night on Tuesday to check on them? One of them had started to crack the shell early that evening, and I didn't want to miss it.  I also felt this sense of responsibility like I needed to be there to make sure everything was okay. What would it say about my future abilities as a chicken-raiser if I woke up to an incubator of dead chicks, you know? This was the first sign of life from our chicks, and I was pretty excited to realize that we really were going to be hatching some babies:


I brought the eggs and incubator to and from the classroom every day because we wanted the students to be able to learn about the process (and possibly see a chick hatch), but I couldn't just leave the chicks there unattended all afternoon and night. It was a little nervewracking to move the whole set-up twice a day for three days (the temperature and humidity in the incubator need to be stable and I stressed myself out watching that blasted thermometer and tweaking the dial to try to get it to stay at exactly 100 degrees), but the kids at school loved it so much. I won't post school photos, but here is one of two of my favorite students observing our incubator in the kitchen :).


Who knew that chicken-hatching took so long? I had no idea how long (and exhausting for the chick) the process would be. After hours and hours of working (you could see the chicks little beak come up for a few pecks and stabs now and then), she had gotten it to this point:


Like I said, I woke up several times throughout the night to check on the hatchlings. I went out at about 3:30 AM, and there wasn't a lot that had changed, but when I went back out around 5:30 AM, this is what I found:


Well hello there little chickie. It was so exciting! And what was even better was that a second chick had really started working on her shell now and I knew I wouldn't miss that one. If you look closely in the above picture you can see the hole that she was making on the top of her egg (the far right one).
Here is another shot of it. You can see some of her yellow fluff inside the crack.


Oh! Here she comes! This was seriously so exciting for me. I was sad that it was so early in the morning and I was the only one awake. I did run back and tell John, but apparently he wasn't as into it as I was because he stayed in bed. I guess he figured there would be two more to hatch later that day when it didn't cut into his precious sleep time.


A few more pecks and some maneuvering by the chick and out came her wet little head. Seriously, I kept making parallels with chick hatching and childbirth and I would likely sound a little crazy if I kept going with them all here, so I'll just share the pictures. But how cool is it to watch life emerge from the space where it was first created, right? So cool.


Another angle of her working her way out:


Oh, I love this one. This slick little newborn so exhausted from all the work it took to be born.


This was about when Georgie woke up and I immediately called him out to the kitchen to see. I love his morning eyes and blankie.


And this one cracks me up. They hatched just a couple of hours apart (you can see how quickly the first one was already fluffing up), and they just collapsed like that and slept in the same position. So funny.


The third chick hatched later that afternoon, and the fourth, our little runt, had a little bit of a rough time. She had started cracking the shell way early in the day, but really seemed to struggle to get out. She would poke her little beak out and cheep-cheep to us, probably asking for a little help please.


That night John's mom came over to watch the kids while John and I went to a REAL game and we told her what was going on with the chicks and to call us if the last one hatched. We had read that ones who are late and/or struggle to hatch often end up dying once they do hatch so we were a little concerned. Janet was worried about it too, and decided to help our last little one out. John totally predicted it, too. When we got the text from Janet saying that the chick had hatched John's words were, "That means she helped it hatch." He knows his mama :). It worked out well though, because who knows if the chick could've done it on her own (she may have gotten dried out and stuck to the shell since she had been working at it for so long), and she has done just fine.

If you ever decide to raise chickens I highly recommend you start this way. Hatching them myself gave me a sense of attachment and ownership (and maybe even love?) that I know I wouldn't have felt for them otherwise. We added 7 other chickens to our flock (the only variety we could hatch were Leghorns and we wanted some other breeds as well), and those little ones that we hatched are definitely my favorites. It was a really cool experience, and I'm pretty happy I gave in and we went for it :). Lots more chicken stuff to come...

the story of how she came

(Fair warning: the writing in this post is long on details and the pictures in it are short on clothes that cover my thighs (especially the right one), so if either of those things scare you, you may want to skip it.)

I have sort of been putting off writing this post. I have thought about it over and over since the day our girl was born, but it is a little bit daunting to try to put words to experiences that are so full of awe and intensity. I'll do my best.

I had been having irregular contractions for a few days and I just kept thinking that the baby would come sometime that week. I had been planning to go at least a few days past my due date (since I did with Baby G), but I just kept getting this feeling that the baby would come sooner. On Tuesday night (the 9th) I had a Relief Society function that I was in charge of. I was running around setting up tables and chairs, preparing food, getting the mini-classes set up etc. and people kept telling me to slow down, but I was totally hoping that the stress and activity would put me into labor so I didn't mind working so hard. I stopped at my neighbor's for some Raspberry Leaf Tea on my way home and had a big mug of it before I went to bed. I had bunches of contractions that night and they even woke me up at about 4:30 AM. I hoped and hoped that they would continue and intensify, but by about 9:00 I was pretty sure it wasn't going to happen. I met my mom at the store with Baby G and we had fun picking up some last minute things for organizing my house in preparation for the baby. That evening (Wednesday, the 10th) when J got home from work we decided to go on a walk. I did the one-foot-on-the-curb, one-foot-in-the-gutter walk all around my neighborhood while J pushed G in the jogger. It was freezing, but we stayed out for about an hour. J had church meetings all night, so after I put my boy to bed, I warmed another cup of tea and went to bed. I wanted to be rested just in case the baby decided to come that night. 

At about 2:00 AM (on my due date, March 11th) a contraction woke me up. A few minutes later, another one. They kept coming, but totally irregularly. Some were 2 minutes apart, others were 10. So I grabbed my book (I knew there would be no more sleeping for me) and hopped in the bath. I finished my book in the tub, and after about another hour and a half of still irregular, but intensifying contractions, I decided to wake J up and tell him. That was at 4:00 AM. We did a Hypnobabies session together, and then at 5:00 AM I started wondering if we should leave for the hospital. I knew I was in labor, I just didn't know how fast the baby would come. Under normal circumstances I would have never wanted to go to the hospital that soon (I had really, really hoped to do most of the laboring at home), but I had tested positive for Strep B, and in order to make sure my baby didn't get sick I needed to have a dose of IV antibiotics in my system at least 4 hours prior to giving birth. Since my labor with G had been so quick I really wanted to make sure I got to the hospital in time to protect my baby. So I decided to call my dad (he is an OB/GYN) and ask him what he thought. He told me that I should probably head to the hospital right away, just to be checked and be safe. We arranged for my little brother to come stay at our house with our sleeping boy, and at about 6:15 AM we headed for the hospital.

My husband called them on the way there to let them know we were coming, so they were ready for us when we arrived. I got changed into a gown and they checked me to see where I was at. At my last doctor's appointment I was dilated to a little over a 1, so I was happy to hear I was at a 3 1/2 that morning and to know that the contractions were doing something. Knowing how fast my labor with G had been, they wanted to start the antibiotics right away. They had the IV (oh please don't get me started on how much I loved where the nurse put it in my wrist-- I think IVs are one of the worst things about labor and I was really disappointed that I had to have one even though I wasn't getting an epidural all because of that blasted Strep B) in by 7:00 AM, and the antibiotics were all in by 7:30 (bless Bobeye, one of my dad's close nurse friends who arrived and requested to have me as her patient-- she pushed those fluids in me as fast as she could so I could get unhooked). 

This is when the laboring really started for me. The contractions were coming much more regularly and getting stronger. I was a little tired, so I wanted to lay down. I put in my headphones and started listening to some of my Hypnobabies tracks. I stayed exceedingly calm and relaxed. I almost fell asleep. Within an hour, my doctor came to see how I was doing. I remember him being surprised at how relaxed I was. He checked me and I was a 5. I noticed he was wearing regular clothes, not scrubs. I asked him if it was his day off and if he had plans to go somewhere. He said, "Not anymore!" and was really sweet about it, but knowing what that is like as the daughter of an OB, I felt really bad that I was messing up his day with his family. I even went so far as to tell him he could just go (they had planned to be skiing), but he said he wasn't going to leave. Then he asked if I wanted him to break my water. Oh, the dreaded question. Again, if my dad wasn't an OB (and his friend) I probably wouldn't have felt pressure to say yes, but knowing that that might speed my labor up and enable him to get on with his day, I felt like I should say yes. I had not planned on getting my water broken, but in the moment I looked at my husband and asked what he thought. We talked through it for a second, and ultimately, I decided I would need to get to a 10 either way, and maybe getting my water broken would make it more painful, but it would also probably make my labor shorter, and my water would likely break on its own pretty soon anyway (with G my water broke when I was dilated to a 6), so I decided to let him break it. I still don't know if that was the right thing to do, and I probably wouldn't have done it had I not felt pressure (not from my doctor-- he was really supportive either way, but just because of the situation), but oh well, it was done. 

The contractions kept getting more intense at this point, and as much as I wish I could say it just felt like pressure (Hypnobabies talk), it was definitely more than that. But I was totally in control, relaxing and managing it. I did not want to be laying down anymore, so I got out my birth ball. It felt so much better to have my legs a little elevated and spread out, so I leaned back on J while sitting on the ball, and put my legs up on the bed. This was definitely the most "in the zone" part of my labor. J was softly giving me relaxation cues and telling me stories, but I honestly do not remember them at all. I was so focused. During a contraction I would become more aware again, but then between them I was so relaxed that I do not remember a thing. Isn't that crazy? J said that the nurses kept coming in to check on me and would whisper to him, "Is she okay?" because I was just laying there so limply. I remember hearing my sweet husband's voice talking to me from time to time, but I don't recall a thing that he said. 

(in the zone, on the birth ball)

Looking back now, I am in awe that the mind, and my mind specifically, can be so powerful. Because those contractions were so, SO intense and strong (I got dilated to an 8 while on the ball), and yet, I barely remember them. I know how strong (and painful) they were because I got up to go pee in between contractions, which I probably shouldn't have done. I hadn't realized how fast the contractions were coming, and as soon as I sat down on the toilet another one started and, holy cow, I can't even express what it felt like. I immediately tried to lay back against the toilet and relax, but there was no escaping it. I think I probably said something to J about how much it hurt and I realized that I needed to get refocused and relaxed or else I would lose control very quickly. There wasn't time to get back on the birth ball before another contraction started, so I just collapsed on the bed and tried to make myself as limp as possible. I stayed completely calm outwardly, breathed and tried to relax through contractions, but I never got back to the Hypnobabies stuff entirely. I realize now that I interrupted myself to use the bathroom right as transition was beginning, which was not a great idea. The contractions were coming so fast and so incredibly strong that all I could do was tell myself to breathe, relax, and get through it. I didn't even think about Hypnobabies specifically (ie: turning myself completely "off") again, because the only thing I could think about was getting through one contraction at a time. This part was by far the most physically painful and mentally difficult thing I have done, and I am so, so grateful that I had prepared for it. I was able to stay in control and get through it calmly (even though the intensity of those contractions was absolutely indescribable) because I had mindfully practiced being calm and relaxed every day. I had also thought through all of these scenes in my mind and had made the decision that no matter what I was feeling or thinking, I could chose to stay calm, I could chose to not let the pain take over. So, even though Hypnobabies did not provide me with a "pain free" birth, and even though it wasn't exactly "easy and comfortable" (the words the hypnosis sessions use to describe what your birth will be like), I know I could not have had the calm, steady, peaceful, and un-panicked birth that I did have without the preparation of my  Hypnobabies classes and the practicing I did at home.

(during transition-- my doctor over there in the corner looks a little too amused, don't you think?)

After about 30 minutes of transition contractions, my doctor checked me and I was complete. He told me I could start pushing and the baby would come. I vaguely remember the nurse asking me what position I wanted to be in to push, but I couldn't even fathom the idea of changing positions at that point, so I don't even think I answered her. When the next contraction started, I pushed using the Hypnobabies technique where you breathe through the push rather than holding your breath. Pushing was really hard for me at this point though, because I was not feeling the urge to push myself yet, I was just doing it because the doctor had said I was ready. I didn't think about that at the time, but looking back, I know now that I rushed this part. I pushed (if you can even really call it that-- I was so not feeling it, so it was very ineffective pushing) through 2 contractions and then my doctor checked me again. When he told me the baby was still in the same place I started to get a little worried. I remember thinking in horror that all of this work could be in vain if I couldn't push my baby out. I remember asking the doctor why the baby hadn't moved down at all and what I needed to do differently. He explained that I was only pushing for about 5 seconds total during a contraction, and usually when women have epidurals they are pushing for about 30 seconds total during a contraction. He said that my way, of slowly breathe-pushing would work, and it was totally fine if I wanted to keep doing it, but it would take probably 20 or so minutes. He said if I wanted to try to push for longer during a contraction the baby would come right away. I remember exhaustedly saying, "I'll try it that way" because I really just wanted to get my baby here. I didn't want 20 more minutes of those contractions. 

(pushing-- this picture looks totally staged to me, but I promise, it was the real thing and I was really making that face :))

During the next contraction I started to push harder than I had been pushing. I still breathed through the push, but instead of taking a break to breathe after one push, I just kept pushing. I distinctly remember suddenly feeling the baby's head coming and finally, feeling the strong urge to push myself. Oh, how pushing hurt. I felt like that whole area down there was on fire. Most women I've talked to say pushing against the contractions felt so good, but that was not the case for me. It just burned like crazy. Pushing was the only point during the entire labor that I really made any noise and I just remember saying, "Ouch, ouch ouch..." over and over as I pushed. As soon as I felt the baby's head, I pushed hard and got it out. Oh, there are not words for that relief-- it felt so good. But then, so quickly, I felt the shoulders and I knew I had to get one more strong push and the baby would be here. There are not words to express what it was like to feel my baby's shoulders squeeze out of me, followed by the rest of her tiny body just slide quickly out. It was so surreal and incredible to actually feel all of that and to know exactly what was happening. Baby girl was born at 11:45 AM, after being at the hospital and getting the antibiotics in me almost exactly for the needed 4 hours. Bless her timing.

(right after she had come out and they were suctioning her mouth)

The baby had a super short umbilical cord, so even though we had planned for her to be put right on my chest, they kept her down at my legs until they cut the cord. I remember just laying my head back in relief and amazement of what I had just done and that it was actually over. I immediately started thinking, "Do I have a baby boy or girl?" in my head, but for some reason, I couldn't speak. I was so overwhelmed by all that my body and mind had just done, and it felt like too much work to talk. I just kept thinking, "Why aren't they telling me if it's a boy or girl?" for what felt like forever (but was really only probably 15 seconds), until pretty soon I heard my husband's voice, full of emotion, say, "It's a girl!"

(looking at my baby, a little girl, for the first time)

I remember I just kept looking at her in my arms, and then closing my eyes and laying my head back, so full of gratitude and relief and wonder that she was actually here, that I had gotten her here, that she was a girl, that she was mine.

I was so worn out, so happy, and so incredibly full of love for my little family. I love that this picture captures all of that.

Feeling everything this time made me much more aware of how traumatic labor and birth must be for the baby. I just kept looking at her and wondering what on earth she must be thinking about what she had just been through. Sweet little tiny, screaming baby.

Since her birth so many people have asked me if I would want to deliver a baby naturally again. I feel really grateful for the perspective I have of giving birth both ways, with an epidural the first time, and completely unmedicated this last time. I think this topic can be polarizing and cause people to be judgmental, on both sides. People who only give birth naturally sometimes feel like that is the only safe way, and that women who chose epidurals are somehow inferior. And sometimes women who choose epidurals think that it is absolutely crazy for a woman to choose to feel it all when she doesn't have to. Here's the truth, in my opinion: any way that a woman chooses to get her baby here is valid and wonderful. I truly feel like this is such a personal matter, one that may vary for a woman from pregnancy to pregnancy. I am SO grateful that I had an epidural with Baby G. The experience of giving birth to him is one that I hold so, so dear. It is truly one of the greatest memories I have-- being in that hospital with my husband, anticipating the arrival of our first baby. Having the epidural made it so that I could just soak up the joy that was filling our hospital room rather than having to focus on the labor. I honestly get chills thinking about how incredible those moments were. On the other hand, I am now so grateful for the experience I had giving birth this time, to my little girl, without any medication at all. It was a raw, intense, emotional experience. It taught me how capable my mind is, how strong I can be. It was empowering and rewarding. I have a renewed and increased appreciation for the miracle that is the human body. I felt such gratitude to be a woman, and I felt connected to motherhood the way my ancestors experienced it and a sense of sisterhood with mothers through the ages, like we are all so much more similar than we are different. So would I give birth naturally again? In short, yes. I think I likely will choose that route again. But I also may choose an epidural at some point. I think those are decisions I will make one baby at a time. And since I happen to have a ten day old baby, I am planning on giving myself a bit of time before I have to think about it all again :).

i gave birth

to a most beautiful, perfect baby. Who also happens to be a little girl. 

It was an incredible, hard, wonderful experience. I will post many more details and pictures soon. But, the vital information:

Baby Pearl Elizabeth

Born March 11 at 11:45 AM

7 lbs. 2 oz.

19 inches

Oh how I love her.

oldest

My dear sweet beautiful boy,

You are sound asleep in your bed. I just went in to see you and you stirred when I bent down and kissed your face. You opened your eyes and when you saw me you smiled, sat up, held your arms up to me and said, "Cuddle, Mama." I gave you a short little hug and then you plopped back down in your bed, fast asleep. The next time I see you, you will likely not be my only baby here anymore. I have been up since 2 AM with contractions and now that it is about 5:30, they are getting more and more intense and your daddy and I need to head to the hospital. I want to wait until you are awake, but since I need to get some IV antibiotics in my system before the baby comes, I feel like we should go now. Oh my boy, I feel a mix of emotion in leaving you now. I am so excited to see you become a brother, to watch your tender heart grow for this little baby, and I know you will be such a kind, gentle brother. But I also wonder if you will feel confused and a little hurt that our attention will now be a little more spread out. I want you always to know that you were my first little love, and there is a sacred spot in my heart that has been carved out by you and you will always have it. I love you, little boy. So, so much. You are my little hero.

Mama

place your bets

This picture was taken on Saturday at a baby shower that my sweet and beautiful neighbor threw for me. (I did NOT intend to have a baby shower this time around, but my neighbor insisted, "Every baby needs a celebration!" Between that and the surprise shower that my friends at the school had for me, I feel completely spoiled and have been overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity of people around me.) Anyway, I am putting it here so you get an idea of how large this baby belly has gotten in these final days-- I don't quite have it in me to pose sideways in front of a mirror :).

As the "due date" rapidly approaches I find myself thinking about this baby's birth and subsequent life in our family more and more. As part of my hypnobabies practice I have been visualizing and creating the birth that I want in my head. The other day I was imagining the moment that the baby comes out and is placed on my chest. I was picturing how overwhelmingly joyful that moment will be and then quickly remembered that I would need to check and see if the baby is a boy or girl. Can you even imagine how exciting that moment is going to be?! It makes my heart pound just thinking about it. I am SO happy we have that thrilling time ahead of us. People think that I should have some sort of intuition about the gender, but I truly don't. At first I thought girl. Then I pulled out some little boy clothes and thought boy. I've gone back and forth a couple of times, and the truth is really that I will be so surprised either way. I know that seems strange, but picturing either gender honestly seems shocking and exciting in different ways. So, you tell me. 

What do you think this baby is, boy or girl?

Place your bets, and, if you'd like, guess the date the baby will come, too. If I am feeling generous I will send a little prize to the person who guesses the gender correctly and is closest on the date.

In case this information helps:

My husband has thought it was a boy all along.

Little G has thought it was a girl. Which is totally surprising considering his dislike for all things "girlish." 

The actual due date is March 11th. I was 5 days over my due date last time around. I have definitely been having more contractions and showing signs that my body is progressing towards labor more than I did at this point last time, but I still have absolutely zero plans of this baby coming before the due date. We are patiently waiting and feverishly cleaning and cooking freezer meals in the meantime :).

cleaning my mental house

So there are these two questions that friends have asked me in comments on blog posts that I have never answered, and every time I think about it I feel like a loser. So today I am (finally) going to rid myself of the guilt and answer the questions! And instead of just answering to the people directly, I am posting the answers here because I think they may be of interest to a few more of you.

Quite some time ago my friend Lindsay (who is also a teacher) asked me if I was working. I have truthfully been meaning to post about the beautiful school that I work at for the whole year because I think everyone should know that such a place exists, but I'm only now getting around to it. So the short answer is yes, I am working. But the details are what really matter. I had never planned to go back to work after I had kids (unless I HAD to). In the summer of 2008 I talked about the Montessori training that I went to. That opportunity has blossomed, and the woman who paid for my training started an INCREDIBLE school and asked me to teach at it. The school is called the Elizabeth Academy. Click on the name and go to the website-- I love the mission of the school and believe so strongly in what we are trying to do there. Here is a little blurb about the methods and approach of the school from the website:

"The structured Montessori approach is so individualized, so adaptable and so focused on the child's need, rather than the teacher's need, or the parent's want, or the state's dollar, that the child can't help but flourish.  And yet, as the child becomes the teacher's focus, the child becomes less focused on himself and more aware and respectful of the world around him.  There is no better model, no purer way to be inspired than through a Montessori education.

Elizabeth Academy mandates legitimate inclusion-- creating a slice of the real world with a safety net of real professionals at arms length and open arms to competently and lovingly help navigate the path."

The school mimics the actual population by including a ratio of about 20% of kids that have special needs into the classrooms with their typical peers. The students have learned from each other and grown to love each other, without even really noticing the differences between them. It is really remarkable. I fit in as the "Readiness Teacher." There were a few students who weren't quite ready for the full classroom environment, kids who needed more support and structure due to their special needs. I was asked to come in and be the teacher in that small classroom. Why I said yes (other than the fact that I really loved the idea of being involved in such an incredible school)? I was able to bring my little boy along with me as a typical peer model for these kids. Little G has been able to get up and come to school with me (we are only there three mornings a week for three hours) and it has been such a blessing to have him there learning alongside me. Also amazing? The classroom is staffed with three (3!) diversely educated adults-- me (special education), Miss Maria (speech therapist), and Miss Kelly (Montessori teacher). Also amazing? The resources that we have available to us to work with these children. I am seriously constantly shocked at the materials and resources we are given. If we need something to work with a student? We can buy it. We are not limited by government funding, and the founder of the school truly wants to spare no expense to enable these children to thrive. It is really incredible. We started out with five students in my class, and have since transitioned one (who was ready) to the other classrooms, and added 4 more typical students. This was a picture of us at the beginning of the year:

Oh how I have grown to love these little people. I will miss them (all except for the cute one in the yellow shirt-- that one I am taking with me :)) when I leave in a few weeks to have my baby. I may be back next year (can you believe that they will allow me to strap my baby to my body, bring my three year old, and teach?!), but I also may not be. But I feel so grateful for the opportunity to have been affiliated with such a beautiful school. It is truly a model for how education should be, and people have begun to take notice. We have had visitors from around the nation come observe in the school, and hopefully there will be more like it popping up all around. I would feel so blessed to one day be able to send my children to a school like it.

Okay, now onto the next question. Many of you have inquired what I meant by "doing without any extra stuff" as it pertains to the birth of this baby in my belly. Yes, it is true, I am planning an unmedicated, intervention free (hopefully) birth this time around. Let me be real here-- I am not your typical hypnobirthing woman. No no, in fact, I grew up in a house with an OB/GYN as a father who spoke these words often: "Why wouldn't you want an epidural?! It's like getting your appendix taken out without any anesthesia!" So when I got pregnant the first time I didn't even think twice about getting an epidural. And honestly, I had the most incredible experience giving birth-- it truly was just about as picture perfect as I could imagine, epidural and all.

So why would I want to do things differently this time around?

Giving birth that first time made me aware of my identity as a woman, created specifically to bring babies into the world. I felt like my body had been made to give birth to babies, and I knew I could do it just like women have been doing it for thousands of years. I felt (and feel) a desire to connect with childbirth at its roots-- just me, strong and empowered, giving birth the way my body was designed to. 

I also really love the notion of controlling my body with my mind. I have been taught since I was little that I needed to use my mind to keep my natural man tendencies in check, no matter how strong the desire or appetite. And while this is a little different in that I do not in any way think that choosing an epidural makes one mentally weak, I do personally feel a strong sense of wanting to strengthen my mind and use that strength to get through something that is physically difficult.

And lastly, it really is just safer to not have an epidural. No I do not think that epidurals are typically dangerous, and yes, I would potentially consider getting one myself again one day, but still, any kind of medical intervention poses some risk. If I can give birth without submitting myself or my baby to any unnecessary risk (no matter how small), I think that is a good thing.

So I (along with my very supportive husband) am half way through a six week course in Hypnobabies training. I practice deep relaxation and positive affirmations every day. I am truly confident in my body's ability to give birth naturally, and am grateful daily for the time I am spending deep in meditation and thought as I prepare. I think about giving birth constantly and honestly, I am SO looking forward to it. I know that there is a chance that things may not go as planned, but I also know that I am doing the work that I need to now so that I can have a truly incredible experience on the day that this babe decides to come. I know some of you have used hypnobabies/birthing before and I would LOVE to hear any and all advice you have. I also know that some of you will be skeptical and doubting. That's okay, but please, don't leave comments about it because I don't want to have to put up my bubble of peace when I read them :).