Moose and Me: finding the floor.

Less and less I'm finding myself in the throws of hormone concieved mood swings. It's nice to feel light and flowey more often than feeling covered in layers of emotions. I see the value in the time I spent there, and the time I will spend there in the future. It allowed me to do a lot of soul searching. I had to rediscover myself in my new role, and although that sounds SO cliché, it's true. There is nothing that can prepare you for motherhood, and if there was a way to try to do so I did it. I turned into a mother all of a sudden (literally one minute he wasn't here and another he was) and it's a hard transformation to process. But it deserves every thought, every emotion, every feel you could feel to be picked apart. Why why why. I allowed myself to delve into "the feels." And I'm glad I did. I know this process is far from over, I'll always be growing and changing, just like my little Moose does. But the heaviness of becoming a mom is lifting, because I'm getting stronger.
Something that has really helped me is finding the floor. Oh wait, that sounds crazy. I realized that I rarely and I mean rarely thought about what I was doing while I was doing it. I'd be taking a shower and thinking about laundry, dirty diapers, eating dinner, getting the car washed. I'd be playing with Moose, and be thinking about changing my clothes, getting out of the house, how crazy my hair was. Doing this constantly destroys my peace of mind. So, I find my feet. Or my butt, or my back, whatever is attaching me to the earth. I bring myself back to the ground instead of up in my head, thoughts racing, chaos up there. And I think about what I'm doing. I feel the soap in my hand, how the warm water feels running through my hair. When I'm playing with my son I immerse myself in his sweet face, I focus on how he reacts to his toys. Because honestly, I've never done anything faster by thinking about it ahead of time. Staying grounded helps me deal with worries. Instead of obsessing over choices or worrying over what people think about me I can see things for what they are because I don't spend so many hours over thinking things. It has made my life a little more simple.
Oh the dishes didn't get done? That's ok, I'll do them tomorrow, feeling guilty about it doesn't get the dishes done! Crazy right! So stop feeling guilty about it, and instead focus on what I'm doing. Wow this coffee tastes like heaven. That's a much better thought.
Oh, you have two nephew's birthday parties on Saturday, a sister who you would like to help move, and a grandpa who you haven't seen in way too long,  AND your husband has to take a couple tests for school? That's a lot to do, and I can't do all of it. That's ok, if I'm a huge disappointment at least I know im doing the best for my family. That's the worst case scenario, and it isn't that bad in the grand scheme of things. Figured that one out, now back to this sweet Moose smile in front of me.
I've been practicing taking deep, meaningful breaths. Oxygen guys, it's fabulous. I like to imagine I'm sucking in alllll the oxygen on my inhale, and when I exhale I slowly release, and imagine pushing all the oxygen all through my body, all the way down to my toes. I've been doing this more and more. It makes me fall asleep by the third time almost every time.
The last thing I've been working on is not taking everything so personally. People say some really interesting things to me. They make little comments here and there about my choices and instead of letting myself get offended I just assume they didn't mean to offend. Even if I'm pretty sure they meant to offend I just move past it. I wish I learned this sooner. I wish I learned it before I got pregnant.
Reading back over what I've written in this post it all seems so obvious. But these things are hard. I'm trying to be a more peaceful person, Moose deserves a more present mama, and Zach needs me to be happy. I deserve a peace of mind.
So far I feel like I can see things more clearly by doing this. I enjoy my little tasks more. It's lead to many more positive interactions with my amazing husband. It's working for me. It takes time to form habits, but it's worth the time.

Moose and Me Update

My little boy has grown so much in such a short amount of time. He is so wise, and so lovey. He loves to cover his mommy and daddy in drool drenched kisses. I love to distract him when he is nursing by smiling at him. Most of the time when I do this he will break his latch to smile at me, then bury his face in my armpit in bashfulness. Sometimes when he is really tired and I smile down at him he will raise his eyebrows at me and then roll his eyes back. It brings me so much joy. I know he won't nurse forever, and I am so thankful for this time with him. It really grounds me. Every couple hours we sit and take a few minutes to just bond with each other. I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that some people are offended when they see it in public. I wish they could see it like I do. But that's a whole other subject.

I am still adjusting to motherhood. It's still so hard. Anxiety is never far away. I keep finding it in hidden places. Sometimes it hides right out in obvious places. When I try to ignore it I just call it stress. "Oh bedtime can be stressful." If only. What I call "stressful" is actually me obsessing over if he has the right diaper to wear. And making sure he is hungry and tired at the same time. And making sure he doesn't nap too late or too early. And hoping once we lay down he can fall asleep easily. And, and, and, and a million things that shouldn't occupy such a huge part of my mind that often do. I've been trying to deal with it. I practice deep breathing and talk myself out of it, and it helps if I'm thinking clearly enough to recognize the anxiety.

Then there is the guilt. I was reading somewhere about the guilt that us mothers feel. And it kinda struck me in the heart. Right in this moment I could list you ten different things I feel guilty about without even hesitating. It's crushing! My husband lifts me up and encourages me, but if I don't forgive myself then it won't stop. They tell you this motherhood stuff is hard, but that doesn't even begin to describe it. Loving that sweet little baby you just made? That is smooth sailing. Changing diapers and staying up all night? Heck, even that is a breeze compared to the emotional upheaval that you have to go through. I really need to stop feeling so guilty for everything. I need to stop feeling upset that my son scratched himself with those tiny little razor nails that babies have. Every time he sees someone when he has a scratch I feel my skin crawl and I feel like I have to explain it. As if whoever it is has their list of bad moms in their pocket, just waiting to add Carol Gilbert to the list.

It may sound crazy if you have never had babies before, and if you do have babies and you know how I feel, then I'm sorry you have felt this too.

My husband has been having me say out loud, "I am a good wife and a good mother" and I feel foolish having to say it out loud. Because deep down I know it's true. I know it's true because my baby is perfect and happy. And I love the snot out of my husband. As hard as things can get between us as we navigate through this new baby stuff, I wouldn't count on anyone more than him. He really does keep me afloat. I can see how God designed it this way. There is a reason why it takes two parties to make a baby. 

I DO love my job though, no matter how heavy it gets. I love being Uriah's mommy. I love being Zach's wife. Being a mother is challenging in so many ways, and I know God is grooming me to be just the right woman to raise my child, and support my husband. The process of refining was not meant to be easy. I know I'm going through this for a reason. I hope my (brutal) honesty will find someone where they are. These heavy things I trudge through have been trudged through before, and I know someone will go through them after me. And that's another reason why God makes it worth the while for us. 

My sweet little Moose is such a joy. It's undeniable that he came here to change the world of those who love him. I just breath in his sweet baby-ness and just let him change me from the inside out.

Rediscovery

Rediscovery

In the hours I labored I transformed.

Left behind was the woman I used to be

Curiosity begs me to rediscover myself

I have a new foreign body

And a new enlightened soul

Both raw and open

My body is my tool

And my body is my treasure

And though my body bleeds I am not weakened

But softened

My body can sustain life

And it can feed my child

My body can dance and laugh

My body can comfort

My body is part of me, but it is not all of me

My soul is filled with a tenacity

To love, protect, and nurture

I am overcome with a desire to connect

To bond

To build a village surrounding my family

And as I lean in to nurture my babe

My hands connect with the mothers around me

Being a mother is being vulnerable

Being connected in motherhood is strength

I am new

But wise

And in this discovery of myself I’ve found

I am not alone.

Newbornness

A week earthside with hardly two hours of consecutive sleep, a pile of laundry a mile high and relying solely on my husband to feed me I thought, those 3 months olds are such old babies. That will never be us. Uriah will never be 3 months. My squishy little moose and I were in this space that exists right after you have a baby where there is no time, it's just milk, sleep and snuggles and the clock on the wall is largely ignored. When day is night surely an exception can be made to just slow down that clock. Just a little bit maybe? I found no exception, so here we are at 3 months "old."
My baby is marvelous. Absolutely marvelous. I look at his sweet face and my brain is lit up with fireworks. Every time I see him it's like the first time, like three months ago. In a bathtub when this babe covered in vernix was placed on my chest and I looked down at him and fireworks. It's a chemical reaction when I see his face. It excites me, it catches my breath and quickens my heart. It makes me want to do SOMETHING like kiss those cheeks and that nose and that perfect chin. And pull him close to me because close will never ever be close enough now that you are no longer in my belly. I'm thankful for that time I carried you in my belly, we were one in the same. You were my identity. There was no me without you. And now that you are earthside I do crazy things like wrapping you in fabric to hold you as close as I can. To feel that oneness again. To breath your breath and feel your skin that was once apart of me, but now is entirely your own. It's as close as we can be now, and though the fabric can be undone and though you are your own tiny person now, you are apart of my heart in a way that no one could undo. You will grow and learn and walk and run. Then heaven forbid you will drive and fly, and I  promise you son, none of those things will ever take you away from me. You are etched into my very being. From when I carried you in my belly, and then carried you as a baby, you are very much a part of me, and you don't even know it yet, but you will remember this time because you'll look back and you'll remember love. Because that is exactly what we are. You and me, we are love.

Reflections

The holidays are almost over, finally! It's been crazy! There has been so many places to go and people to see. Uriah got to see so many of his family members. It really is sweet how captivating this little fellow is to everyone he encounters. No one can deny the charm of a baby. It just oozes from his skin and infects everybody he sees.
Uriah has been very busy discovering his world. He gazes intently at bright lights and interesting faces, and he tells us stories with his little voice and expressive eyebrows. I never have to wonder what he is feeling because I can see it in a furrowed eyebrow, or a dimple in his grin. He wears his heart on his sleeve this kid.
I love watching him with his daddy. Uriah thinks his dad is just the funniest person there ever was. I am going to love watching them go on and on together for years to come. I know my husband will always be the funniest person ever to our son.
I started potty training with Uriah. The technical term is elimination communication, but pretty much I just take Uriah to go pee in the sink when I think he has to go. I save lots of diapers this way, and we get to stare at each other in the mirror and it's hilarious. It's a good reminder on days when I look like crap that Uriah couldn't care less how I look. When we stand in front of the mirror and I grimace at my reflection Uriah just smiles and coos. It's really grounding. I'll be sad when he starts to sit up and he will have to start sitting on a little potty instead of using the sink. I'm excited to start taking "EC" on the road and do it when I'm on the go and not just at home.
Uriah is working very hard at rolling over. He will stick his butt so far into the air and try to roll over, but he hasn't figured out the top half yet. He gets really worked up about it and it's quite comical. It's funny how every baby before him has figured it out and now it's Uriah's turn. I'm in no hurry of course, take your time growing up kid. I know my days of pre-mobility are numbered.
Sleep sleep sleep. If I didn't have to sleep I think I could rule the world. Just kidding, I would probably just sit there and watch my baby sleep. (Side note: I totally get it now Edward Cullen sorry I was hatin' before.)
But since I must sleep I do it next to my baby. I love having him right next to me at night. I can monitor his breathing and well being and hello! Snuggles. I can feed him without him having to cry for it first, and honestly I would get no sleep if we weren't Co sleeping. I've tried to put him to sleep in a side car(bed attached to my bed) and he would not have it. He prefers to be close to me, and I'm ok with that. We do it safely and we both get more sleep because of it. When I have nightmares my baby is right there when I wake up and it puts my restless mind at ease. There will come a day when I won't get to snuggle my boy all the time, and when that day comes I'll be glad I took every opportunity to do it when he was little.
I'm so thankful that I have my sweet boy, and that he is teaching me so many things. He is always challenging me to see the bright side and live and love more intently. He helps me to let go of anger because when I look into his eyes and see his innocence it's hard to believe that anything is worth getting upset over. It makes me believe that things should be much much more simple then I always make them out to be. He makes me want to change the world to be a brighter place. And I know the only way for me to do that is by being kind, by smiling at strangers and stopping to talk to passers-byers for the sake of hearing how their day is, and letting them smile at my baby. If everyone had a couple more baby smiles a day surely our hearts would be softened. 
This new year will be the fastest one ever. It will be full of wonders, adventures, love, and grins, and of course, cups of coffee.  Learning and growing always. I'll share so many joy filled moments with the people I love. I'll never forget these moments of motherhood when my baby was small and we were both figuring out what life is all about.
As I reflect on the last year I can't help but be in awe. It was exactly a year ago today that I got my last cycle bringing news that I once again wasn't pregnant. I poured a glass of champagne and toasted to the new year making it my goal to not hate myself for not getting pregnant again. At least there is wine I thought. I had no idea that January would be the month I got my sweet baby. I was so ready to give up, because it hurt so bad waiting to meet someone that I knew would change my life. But 2014 brought me all the joy I never knew I was missing. I conceived my child and grew him from an itty bitty seed, to a 9 pound baby during such a lovely pregnancy. I brought him into the world in the most perfect birth I could have imagined: safe, secure, and full of love. And now he is here and my heart is so full, loving and getting to know this child that I feel like I've really known my whole life. I have watched my little family grow into something so beautiful and close.  2014 was more of a gift then I could have ever imagined. My husband, my baby, and our silly pup. All the love I could ever need.

Mommy Ramblings

To be completely honest with you, I'm not quite sure how we got here. It's been a blur. It's kinda like I've been sliding down an icy slope trying to drive my ice pic in to slow down, but it's useless. I'm officially "that mom" who says things like, "oh where does the time go," and "they grow up so fast." And I say it because it's true, I see my son laying on my chest and I think,  "this, this right here will never ever last long enough." It's a cruel thing that a mother both desires to see her baby grow and blossom, and also to stay little and forever curled up on her chest, tucked under her chin. So we resort to taking a million pictures and laughing, then crying at each new stage. It forces your heart to grow wider so you can love more intently. I can actually feel my heart grow. I swear I can! I look down at my baby, and then my chest tightens, my breath stutters, and then I feel heat spread from my heart to my limbs. That is when I know: I just loved him more now than I did one second ago. It's the best heart condition you can have, and if you know what I'm talking about then you probably have it too. I'm not just talking about moms either. I noticed it too when Uriah was no more than a twinkle in my eye. It would happen when I held my nephews and nieces close.  It's no wonder kids grow up, they gotta make room for a big ol heart to love their families, and one day their own children.

Uriah Blaine's Birth Story

[Preface: This isn't just a chronological order of events leading up to a baby being born. No, this is our story of how the strength of a family, and the will of a mother gave birth to a baby.]

Although I enjoyed my pregnancy with my child I'm not about to tell you it was easy. It was preparing me though, in the most delightful of ways, for motherhood. Pregnancy was beautiful, even through the struggles, and it should be no surprise that separating from my baby for the first time wouldn't be easy.

(All pictures done by Jessica Kirkland Photography)

Every Wednesday for about 36 weeks I counted 7 days closer to my due date, even though I knew he'd be late, after all, he is a Gilbert. I hoped he would come early, but I knew deep down he wouldn't be. My uterus was just that incredible. So at 40 weeks pregnant the morning rose, and the evening faded, and I rolled my big pregnant belly back to bed for another night of 30-point turn rollovers, 4 trips to the bathroom, and countless braxton hicks.
It wasn't until 3 more nights of this had passed that I woke up on Saturday the 11th at 4 am, with a real-deal, undeniable, no messing around, contraction. It was very exciting, but I was very tired still, and desperately needed a shower. So I took a shower, and did what I had done every morning of the last month: I went back to bed. I knew I was going to need the rest. So I laid back down and thought, "Well, this is how my story begins, 'Big ol' pregnant lady goes back to sleep' How exciting." Are you hooked yet?
I woke back up around 7 am. Since it was a Saturday I thought I'd let my late-riser husband sleep in for what would probably be the last morning to do so for the next 18 years. That lasted all of 30 minutes when I decided I was HUNGRY. My appetite proved to be a driving force behind much of my labor. I woke up my man and told him the good news. My contractions were about 6 minutes apart from the get-go, but my husband wasn't convinced because he didn't want to get his hopes up.
 He arose and made me breakfast. Suddenly, all of the nesting that I never really got hit him hard. He was running around scrubbing the apartment top to bottom while I was rolling around on the yoga ball ohh-ing and ahh-ing through contractions. He also had time to run to Starbucks for me (what a man) and get in a round of Battlefields all before 3 pm.
All morning and into the afternoon my contractions stayed about 6 minutes apart. Then they started to get a little more "intense" as people like to describe them. They were starting to captivate me. It was no longer something that was happening to my body, but something that I was actively participating in. A wave would roll in, and together we would go deep within where my baby was hidden and protected. I would feel all my muscles focusing, pulling here and there and reaching around my baby. Although it felt painful to me, my muscles knew just where to tighten to bring my baby out ever so slowly, and ever so gently, exactly how he needed to come out.
I got in the shower so I could continue to roll with my body's waves. They started coming quicker, and the water turned bitter cold against my skin. It was then that I knew I needed to gather my team because our journey was getting rocky, and my husband and I needed support from my sister, mother, and my beautiful birth team at Bella Vie to walk with us through this part. Looking back on my labor, I see my birth team as my sherpas. A group of strong individuals guiding me on such a special on momentous journey up my mountain. They weren't forceful or controlling, just there to guide and support me however I needed.
My sister burst through the door of our apartment as I was trying to figure out how to get dressed while contracting. I had never been happier to see her. Although she's been there for me for literally my whole life, I've never felt more connected to her than in that moment. She rushed to my side and helped me through the rough transition from pregnancy to motherhood. I felt empathy in her touch, I felt that she had been there, and she met me right where I was. She felt those waves, that tightening. She's walked down that road twice already and she was wholly and completely present with me through every contraction. It was beautiful, and desperately needed. While my husband was my rock, grounding me, my sister floated with me, both were just what I needed.
Off we flew to Bella Vie because although the last thing I wanted to do was get in the car, my midwife, Lenore, was waiting at the place that had become our home away from home, and they had a tub there. A big, beautiful tub, full of warm water that was beckoning me.
Laboring in the car wasn't the most serene or graceful thing I've ever done, but I survived and we found ourselves at Bella Vie. I knew walking up those steps on the front porch I was about to meet my game-changer. He was a "few" contractions away and I'd meet him, in a beautiful room, full of warm hearts. The car ride seemed long, but there was no place I'd rather be.

I slipped into the glorious tub and the water felt blissful. I labored there for awhile. My husband kept me steady and sang my birthing song with me, helping me keep it low and mellow. The song should probably never be recorded, but the low moans helped me relax my face, and helped me to breath. Relaxing my face helped me relax my body.

After about an hour of laboring here and there I felt myself slipping away from my contractions. I wasn't participating with them, I just wanted to escape them. I asked for a cervical check. It would be the first one of my entire pregnancy. I told my midwives at my last appointment that I didn't want to know the numbers if they thought it would give me a mental block. So I was checked, and I was simply told I needed to make more progress. Progressing at that time was rough. My contractions were on top of me, and I was fighting them. I wanted to go to the hospital to escape the pain. At the hospital there were women sleeping through contractions, or laughing and watching TV as their uterus' silently brought their babies down. "That could be me." I thought. But that was never what I wanted. Hospitals have always scared me. I hated the idea of someone I didn't know in my very very personal space.

My team talked me down from my desires of an epidural with the crushing reality that an epidural means another dreadful car ride, scrubs, strange people, AND a big fat needle. I had several pep talks with my sherpas. They had all been there too, and they had the right words to stop my heart and my head from running away. They trusted my body when I was trying to run from it.

Later in the evening I smelled dinner coming from the kitchen. I was starving. Although I could have eaten whatever I wanted, I was nauseous and I had horrendous heartburn. I knew I had to get the baby out before I could enjoy a meal. Baby by dinner was my goal!

Five, six, and seven o'clock slipped on by like a stream over pebbles. I watched the sun fade away as the truth sunk in: our journey was far from over.
Knowing that Uriah and I still had a long road ahead of us before we could see each other, I let myself slip off into "labor land." I let loose, and let go. I gave up trying to put myself on a time schedule  and just got lost in the waves. I occasionally was brought back to earth to either go to the bathroom or drink water, my two very least favorite things to do.

At some point when the night was dark, and time held no meaning to me anymore, I had another cervical exam. Lenore told me I was at an 8 which was considerable progress since when I arrived I was only a 2, which isn't even considered active labor. I couldn't believe I was only a 2 when I got there. Thank goodness they never told me. When I learned I was at 8 it was just fine for me because I was coasting. That's not to say that my contractions were less painful, but I was letting them come and letting them go without thinking and obsessing over them.

Soon after my check I felt my body give a little push while I was in the tub. I knew it was too soon to be pushing, so I crawled back to bed to rest for awhile. The nausea that had followed me throughout labor finally climaxed, and I puked hard. Finally! I felt so much better.
My body gave another push and warm water flowed out of me. I had forgotten all about my bag of waters till they broke. The progress I had been making was becoming obvious. We were getting there.
My body was itching to get back in the water. Back into the tub, I wouldn't be leaving without holding my sweet baby in my arms. I felt my body start laboring my body down. My contractions turned from waves, to pressure, pushing baby down. I could feel how high my son was in the birth canal, so I just let my body do the work without baring down. It was then that I felt the insane, unbridled power of my body. No one had to tell me how, it wasn't something I read in a book, or learned in school. My body was pushing out this baby that it had grown and nourished for 9 months. The power was incredible, and I wasn't even doing anything. I was merely hosting the power that had overtaken my body. To only say that contractions "hurt" is a gross disservice of describing what the female body is capable of. When you hear the tale of a runner winning his race, or a hiker defeating a summit, the pain in training is a source of pride. How much more of a miracle is a baby being born, and yet the pain is viewed as a symptom, not a passage to victory.

Lenore checked my cervix, and I was at 10, but I had a small cervical lip. She encouraged me to let my body work, but try not to push with it. My body worked and worked to bring down my baby. It seemed like eternity. I found comfort from my work by keeping eye contact with my sherpas. I saw strength in their eyes, and I knew everyone believed I could make it over this mountain of a task.
After hours of laboring my baby down I finally felt like I should help my body push. I didn't really know what that meant exactly, but I felt like I wanted to bare down with the waves. I was checked again, and the lip was gone.

I talked to my baby and told him I couldn't wait to meet him. I was so ready.
Mustering up the furthest reaches of my strength, will and determination I pushed HARD. Though he felt so far away from crowning, I pushed. With my fingers, arms, legs, toes, and every inch of me, I pushed. There was a remarkable amount of power and strength radiating through my body. Each wave would roll in and I'd wait and wait till I got to the top, and we would come crashing down with force.

It was the biggest, hardest task of my life, but my baby and I were doing it perfectly. I could feel him twisting and turning his way down. I found myself moving in and out of different positions. I finally found myself in the corner of the tub, the perfect place. I held myself up on the edge and let my legs and hips float, free of pressure. My husband sat in front of me, just outside the tub.

"I'm gonna shoot this baby out at you!" I warned him. And although he didn't exactly "shoot out" he did start coming out. I felt the ring of fire. I felt the head slowly, so very slowly, come out. His head felt a mile long. I watched everyone in the room watch me. Their faces willed with awe, and stacked with anticipation. The mood was calm and quiet though all of our lives were about to change. It might have been due to the sleepiness of being awake all night, or the sense that something big and powerful was happening, or maybe both.

 This was it. This was really it. I felt my son's face slide out of me, and finally, his head was out.
After I got over the disappointment that the rest of his body didn't come out with his head, and I would have to wait for another contraction, I realized, at long last I could see my baby! I looked down and my jaw dropped. Firstly, there was a head coming out of me. Secondly, it was covered in hair! I don't know why, but I was convinced I'd have a bald baby.

Apparently they couldn't just pull him out, so I waited and waited for what seemed like a lifetime. I couldn't push without a contraction. It finally came though. I felt it coming from a mile away, and I let it build I knew I only needed one epic final push to meet my son. At the peak of the wave I pushed with my whole being. My whole body shook as I gave up everything in one last push.
A perfect baby slid into the water, and into his daddy's eager hands. Uriah Blaine Gilbert was handed to me, and I clutched him to my chest. Just like that I had become a mother, and suddenly my whole heart was captivated by this tiny baby on my chest. I kissed his head, and called his name, and he let out a tiny cry.

I did it. I brought my baby into the world, in an incredible display of my strength as a mother. I'll never be the same and neither will my husband. Our lives were changed by the journey, and this destination of parenthood is the ultimate reward.

I held my son in my arms as I looked him over. A perfect butt chin, just like his daddy's, a a cute little nose, perfect lips, and two ears that are to die for. He had big strong hands that had blisters on them from him sucking on them in my belly, my silly baby.
I cried. The tears slipped from my eyes as I found every inch of perfection that his daddy and I created together, and my body sustained. My husband cried too as he held the two of us. A family of three at long last.

We spent time bonding with our baby, and about 45 minutes after birth Uriah's placenta was delivered. An incredible heart-shaped organ that my body made to grow my child. We sat staring at our son for what seemed like an eternity, I brought my son to my chest and he latched on like he had done it a million times. I cried some more. Such a wonderful way to bond with him.

 Soon after he was done, my husband cut the cord. He was surprised how strong it was. They weighed and measured our son, 9 pounds 2 ounces, and 21.5 inches long. A little moose baby! I was examined for tears and I only needed one small stitch.

Next my husband got to hold him, and my heart just ran over with love and admiration. Nothing has ever been so perfect. We turned off our phones so we could focus on resting and bonding with our child. Laying there with our son was the only thing we felt we needed to do... Oh and eat. The food was incredible, the service was even better. We had a 24 hour postpartum midwife stay with us for help with anything we needed, including making us homemade meals. We were able to co-sleep the first night in a comfy queen sized bed. The next day we had a peaceful herbal bath to speed healing. We went home that afternoon after checkout.

We couldn't have imagined a better birth, or a better story. I've never been more in awe, or more thankful for God's gift of his creations. I never in my life felt perfect, but now I have a small glimpse of how He sees me, because I look at my son, and I've never seen anything more perfect.

We are so thankful for our sherpas.. err I mean midwives at Bella Vie for their love, guidance, and trust. We are thankful for my sister and mother for their help. Also for Jessica Kirkland for capturing the best moments of our lives in pictures.