Highlights of the week.

Ivy has moved up a size diaper and mom has moved down a size.  Oh yeah!  Ivy is a size 1 now and mom has graduated to a panty liner.  This last stage of bleeding is such a tease.  It fools you into thinking you're done bleeding time and time again.

Adam and I hallucinate regularly.  Well, what I mean is, we both imagine that we hear Ivy crying at random times, when she's really not.  Did you know that at night, when you have a bit of a nose whistle, it sounds  just like a baby crying. No joke.

My sister says I should just give it up and be a total hippie.  My kids regularly point out that I'm "leaking" because I refuse to wear those stifling breast pads at home.  I follow "my intuition" with Ivy's feeding and sleeping schedule, which basically means I just don't feel like being tied down to any particular method.  Some days I don't even wear a bra.  It's awesome.

Did you know that it's common during the postpartum stage to sweat more at night, as your body gets rid of excess water and stuff?  So, I wake up sweaty, stinky and often drenched in milk.  Yes, I have always produced massive amounts of milk when I nurse and by morning it's spilling out of me.  Oh yes, I am a sight to behold.  Let me tell you, I love my morning shower.  Almost as much as I love my mattress pad that protects our precious king size mattress from being permanently scarred.

Ivy has started smiling and cooing.  At least I tell myself that it's "real" now buts it's hard to know for sure.


I am running about three times a week now.  Each week I run more and walk less.  I am amazed at how quickly it is building.  Don't worry, all you worriers out there, I'm still being careful.  I'm excited for when Ivy is ready for the chariot and we can run together during the day too.  I'm also working on strengthening up my core and building my posture back.  I do planks and stand on my Tzone machine while engaging my core.  It's coming.  It will take time but it's coming.  I'm trying to be patient and look at it as a chance to practice rehabilitation methods, just like you would after an injury.  This is what I tell myself when I look in the mirror and my midsection jiggles.

Ivy pees all the time when I change her diaper (I thought that was a baby boy thing, apparently not).  My startled scream often startles her and she stops peeing mid stream, giving me enough time to get the new diaper on.

To All Mothers.

I've been thinking lately about parenting "methods" and advice.  The newborn stage does that for me. I mean, these little two foot humans can be intimidating, even to the most confident parent.  Even with it being my third baby and Ivy having a generally mild temperament, there are still times I look at her and wonder, "what is it you want?"  In the night at 6am after being up for three hours, I ask that through tears.

Even worse than wondering what it is your child wants, is a deeper confusion that lies to you saying, "you've messed your child up.  You're doing something wrong."  Or, "if only you'd done this or that, then you and your child would be better off."  

Most nights Ivy sleeps 4-5 hours, is up for nursing, burping, diaper change and snuggles, then back to bed for another few hours.  So our nights have been fabulous!  But it only took one rough night for me to start to doubt my methods.  Thinking through the day and evening, trying to figure out what I might have done that caused this rough night.  

I think that's part of the problem.  The assumption that BECAUSE my child is having a hard time, I must have done something WRONG. 

I think of other moms I know and so many are bathed in feelings of self doubt, wondering if they are failing their children.  These are horrible feelings to carry and I don't believe these feelings come from God.  In my heart I feel and know that God honours mothers.  He so appreciates every sacrifice and effort that mothers make to bring children into the world and to raise those children.  And there are oh so many sacrifices!  He doesn't look down on me as I rock my precious daughter at 3am and think, "oh Kim, if only you had followed Baby Wise methods more precisely, you wouldn't be in this mess."  Rather I believe He looks at me with love and compassion.  As a new mother, still healing, giving so much of herself to care for her daughter, His daughter too.  I believe He looks at me with love and tenderness and gratitude for my willingness to care for one of His children and to be her mother.  He knows I am doing what I can.  And most importantly, He knows I love her and that is what matters most to Him.  I imagine He cares very little about whether I choose to follow this method or that.  Those methods are more for my sanity and have nothing of eternal significance in them.

But it's so easy to forget that.

It's far too easy to be judgemental and critical of ourselves and of each other.  Like Martha of the Bible who criticized her sister Mary, we often fall prey to thinking there's a right or wrong way to do things.  In very few cases, is there a right or wrong way that applies to each and every family, each and every mother, each and every child.  No, in most cases, there are just options and we all get to choose.  We get to try.  We get to learn and we get to try again.  The last thing we need is to be hard on ourselves or hard on each other.

So when you look at the mother with a child who is acting out, rather than thinking, "oh if only she would only do this or that", how about instead you extend her the same love and compassion that you yourself need in your own mothering.

To the mother with the crying baby or toddler in the night and to the mother with the older child who is having trouble at school or with his friends and to all mothers everywhere who feel at one point or another that you are or have somehow failed your child, I want to remind you of a loving Heavenly Father who is just grateful that you are trying.  Turn to Him in prayer with your doubts, with your questions and for the divine help you need because He certainly knows you need His help.  He knows you are not a perfect mother and that's ok.  He loves you and honours the sacred title you bear.  Be kind and gentle with yourself, always.

It's Quite A Stage.

As you probably know, we have a 6.5 year gap between Kyla and Ivy.  Yeah, so it's been awhile since we've done the whole newborn thing.  It's actually been a refreshing break.  Not that we exactly planned to have a big gap in our family but the way it's turned out has been a blessing.  Might as well make the best of what life offers you, right!

We feel like we've waited a long time for Ivy to come to us.  We had been praying for her to come, praying that we'd be prepared and praying that it would be a sweet and joyful experience.  We feel like these prayers have been answered.  So many blessings have been given to us by God, throughout my pregnancy, in Ivy's birth and in caring for her.  We chose to honor God by giving Ivy the middle name Grace.  To honor Him for all He has given us.

Even with all our gratitude, all these blessings, this stage is still wonderfully challenging.  

But we try to keep our sense of humor about it and that makes a big difference.

In the middle of the night when Ivy cries out Adam says, "master is calling."  Sometimes he adds, "master goat is calling" because her little newborn noises resemble a little goat.

Adam is such a baby whisperer and he always amazes me with this sixth sense he has with our babies.  Like last night, he was changing Ivy's diaper and she kept tucking her knees up.  So he pushed gently on her lower abdomen and she pushed back and out came fart after fart, squirt after squirt.  Pretty funny stuff at 3 AM, let me tell you.

We also have a bit more maturity this time around.  I am relaxed, even when she's not latching on well.  Or when we go to bed at night, I don't get anxious about how the night is going to go.  I just say in my head, "it will be what it will be."  Knowing that I'll get through it and another morning will come.  Funny how with a newborn, the sun rise almost feels like a finish line.

Riley still loves to watch me nurse Ivy.  The other day he was standing next to me, watching her, when he said out loud, "there is nothing in the world as cute as a baby girl, is there mom?"

I am healing up, emotionally and physically.  Feeling good.  Feeling myself.  I am so grateful to family and friends who have been there to support our family as we adjust to being a family of five.  THANK YOU!!!

I'm Running Again!

Do you have something you love to do so much that it feels like something deep within you comes to life when you do it?  Running is like that for me.  When I run I feel free, I feel strong, I feel happy and I feel alive.  I stopped running at 25 weeks pregnant because of some foot and hip discomfort.  It wasn't a hard choice to make, as I knew it was the best choice for my body and I knew that it was just for a stage.  I kept up my cardio fitness with spin, elliptical and stair machines.  I am such a huge fan of exercising during pregnancy, as I've done it for all three pregnancies.  It takes some wisdom and good judgement to know what is right for your body but it certainly has helped me physically and emotionally to have overall positive pregnancies.

But now that my body is my own (kind of) I am excited to get back into running.

The first couple weeks my focus was on rest, recovery and healing.  With lots of support from Adam, I was able to take it easy, as he took over the housework and cooking.  I went for some walks here and there and tried to remind my body about posture and holding my core strong...not easy after being pregnant.  It's a work in progress.

So this week I decided it was time to try out running.

It's all about finding the right training buddies right?!?  Others that have a similar fitness level, who are as fast or just a bit faster than you are.  Well, I've found them; my 7 month pregnant friend, my 55 year old dad and my 6 and 8 year old kids.  

Last week I went for a long walk with my friend.  It ended up being 2 hours long because we wandered around wal mart picking up some things.  When we got home and she was saying goodbye, I said, "we should do this again next week."  To which she responded, "yeah, and maybe next time we could go a bit faster."  I realized then that she had been going slow for me because I had just had a baby and I had been going slow for her because she's pregnant.  How considerate of us.

Monday my parents came over for the afternoon.  My mom, to hang out at the house with Ivy and my dad, to go for my first run with me.  They are planning to do this every week for awhile, for which I am so grateful.  We went out for 30 minutes;  run 1 min, walk 1 min.  Felt great, other than making me more aware of my need to strengthen up my lower abdominals.  We were slow but who cares.  It just felt so good to move my body that way again

Tuesday I felt good from my run, just a little sore in the quads, so I decided to head out for a short "training run" with my kids.  I asked them if they wanted to train together for a race this summer.  Probably just a 5 km race.  I thought I would do it with Riley but Kyla was eager to join in too, so we'll see how that goes and give it a try.  It's really a win-win situation because now that Adam is back at work this week, he comes home pretty tired from a long day.  He gets to cat nap with Ivy on the couch while I meet my needs and take the older kids out for some fresh air and exercise.  I plan on doing this several nights a week.

Running with my kids is hilarious.  I mean, they are kids, so they do kid stuff.  Like putting their arms in their coats and while laughing they explain, "look at me, I'm a running stump!"  They are also so sporatic with their pace, sprinting up ahead, jumping off snow piles and stuff like that.  I really do love spending time with them this way because I'm sharing with them something I love to do.  We have fun, I teach them a bit about running form and pacing and we laugh and talk about other things.   Some of my favorite memories with my dad are exercising together and I hope it will be the same for my kids and me.

Oh and little miss Ivy is growing.  I'm trying to savor up this stage and enjoy her as much as possible.

The Recovery Is Kind Of A Big Deal.

Someone I love just told me that she is pregnant.  I am so happy for her.  As we talked she asked questions like, "what's been the hardest part about having a baby?"  I told her, "the emotional recovery" and described how that 'time of the month' you just feel kinda 'off'.  Take that and times it by 50.  Then I talked about some of the joys because I felt the need to balance out that comment with some of the good stuff....because there's sure a lot of good stuff too.  I think it's hard to know how much to talk about the hard parts.  I mean really, I don't want to freak anyone out, make them feel afraid of having kids.

What I really thought about answering to her question was, "well, it's actually going to rock your freaking world."  But I didn't know if that would be terribly helpful.

A couple years ago a friend asked me,  "which one is harder, having a baby or doing an ironman?"  I thought about that question here and there while I was pregnant, still not sure what the answer to that was.  Now I have my answer, "the ironman was harder but the recovery is harder from having a baby."  

Keep in mind, that I am comparing a 16 hour ironman where I got extremely sick on the marathon and finished much slower than hoped to an uncomplicated labour that progressed beautifully and was full of support and joy, resulting in a healthy baby and momma.  Certainly every ironman is not harder than every labour and delivery.  This is just my experience.

My little Ivy Grace was born at 11:25 in my bath tub.  A planned home birth.  It was better than I ever imagined a home birth would be.  I had been resistant to the idea of a home birth for the first half of my pregnancy but my views shifted when we spent a day in the hospital around Christmas time for Kyla to have ear surgery.  I realized that I didn't really like hospitals after all.  Certainly they serve an important purpose but I was confident that my birth would go well and felt that a hospital wasn't necessary for me and my baby.
The birth did go incredibly well.  So has the recovery but it's a major ordeal to recover from having a baby.  As I've shared bits and pieces of my recovery with other women, some of them have been surprised and maybe even comforted to know that they aren't the only one who finds this stage hard.  So that got me thinking that I wanted to write a post about the recovery...

There I lay at 3 am on Feb 28th, in a maxi pad that might as well be called a diaper, pondering on the incredible events of the past 16 hours.  It was hard to believe that now I had a baby in my house.  My baby.  That I had finally delivered her. That I was no longer pregnant.  An incredible cocktail of relief, joy, awe and love mixed in with some nervousness about the next stage of life to come.

I remembered reading that newborns usually get a really long stretch of sleep after the delivery.  That it was important for mom to sleep during this time, to also recover.  But I felt like I had just come off of one of the most incredible experiences of my life. An endorphin high.  My uterus was cramping, my back was aching, my bottom was tender, my hormones were undergoing a major shift and I had just met my little baby girl, my daughter.  How on earth was I supposed to just relax and go to sleep?  I knew I was going to need time to heal, recover and adjust to this new stage of life.

It's been quite a ride so far.  Having a baby and caring for a baby is an extremely spiritual experience for me.  Heaven feels closer, God feels closer, angels seem to be watching over me and my little girl.  It's a time filled with simple sweetness.  I love those moments of feeding and snuggling my little baby.  I love how life seems to just slow down.  There are funny moments too, like at dinner when Riley points to me and says, "mom, your breasts are leaking."

There are also hard moments.  Like last night at 2:15 when Ivy woke up crying.  I had been up until midnight, crying and talking to Adam. At times, I cry for no reason, but this time I cried because it was only a few days until Adam went back to work and I felt nervous about 'doing it all alone.'  I also felt this deep ache to be taken care of.  To be held by someone, looked after.  Strange the things we crave emotionally after having babies, isn't it?  The care of my midwives had been so amazing.  I ached for more of that care, as I gave so much in caring for my baby.  I pictured myself laying on the couch, being held by my midwife and that image brought me to tears.  Then for the first time since Ivy had been born, she threw us a curve ball and every time we set her down, she woke up crying 15 min later.  We racked our brains, "was it the lasagna I ate bothering her tummy, is she growing, is it gas....".  Finally at 5:30 she went to sleep for reals.  Had to reach deeper into my reserves of patience and optimism to get through that night.

This raw emotion has washed over me many times since delivery.  Sometimes coming without warning and sometimes for no apparent reason, other than a strong feeling that I just need to cry and let it all out.  Apparently day 3 is a common day for strong emotions.  It sure was for me.  I sat on my couch, feeding Ivy, while my family was at church and the tears flowed.  This time, it had a lot to do with feeling so loved.  It spoke to the deep ache I felt.  The ache to be cared for.  I kept thinking about how one of the midwives was coming soon to visit and that I should really pull myself together so I wasn't a blubbering mess when she arrived.  But then I thought of her womanly care.  Full of compassion and wisdom and the tears would roll again.  I managed to stop the tears when she arrived but partway through the visit, they flowed again.  She was kind and understanding, not judgemental.  "Crying is a right of passage on the day three visit", she said.  "We are surprised if a mom doesn't cry when we visit on day three."

"I know this is normal for me", I explained.  "I remember this raw emotion after having my last two."

I have a good friend who checks in with me every day. On day three, I started dialing her number and cried as soon as I pressed the buttons.  After hearing my tears she responded, "it's one of those days, isn't it?"  I was crying because I knew she would love me, wouldn't judge.  Also, wouldn't worry about me.  Because she knows, as well as I know, that this will pass for me.  I've never had post partum depression but I certainly get the baby blues.

Another interesting part of the recovery has been the need to process my labour and delivery.  I have replayed it over and over in my head.  Sorting it through.  Longing to experience some of the amazing parts again.  Basking in the love and support I felt through it all. Feeling so proud of how I embraced and managed it. Coming down off a euphoric high and trying to find peace with the experience and move forward.

Having an "audience" to my birth was something new for me.  I loved the support of my mom, mother in law and especially the midwives but I was used to just having Adam as my support in the past and I felt somewhat vulnerable about how they perceived my "performance".  I know it's not a performance and I know I had nothing to prove but I still felt this need to be told by everyone that I had done a good job.  That I had coped well and maybe even impressed them.  Silly desire, but there it was anyways.  I thought this through and came to realize that I only needed to seek affirmations from myself and from God.  That their perception of the experience was not so important and I didn't need to crave their praise.  I also felt this need to connect with my caregiver.  My midwife had been amazing, especially in the final moments of pushing.  I suppose she had become a hero to me in those moments.  So I wrote her a letter, called it my 'creepy love letter' and she was kind and loving in reading it.  I remember after having Riley, going back to the hospital to see the nurse who had attended my birth.  I thought she would be thrilled to see us, that I had made such a lasting impression on her with my natural child birth, which she had said she rarely saw in the hospital anymore.  Not so.  It was a hilarious and awkward experience, as she pretended to know who we were and we pretended it was no biggie.

I know as I heal physically, I will also heal emotionally.  Engorged breasts, tender cracking nipples, blood flow, cramping uterus, aching back, as well as a host of unseen adjustments that my brain oversees, as hormones, organs and cells all heal from the pregnancy and adjust back to "normal".  These changes and adjustments take time.  I am more patient with this healing process, as a mom of three.  It's still hard but I have more maturity and patience with the process.  I respect it and understand that I am normal, that these challenges are normal, that it won't be like this forever, that it's ok if at moments I feel overwhelmed, overtired, and emotional.  These are steps and stages of healing.

To all moms reading this, you are amazing for what you do to bring life into the world.  
Ivy Grace Layton, I do this all for you.  I love you.  I am honored to be your mother.