A new adventure with Trades of Hope, and a chance to win our Aqua Scarf

Fair Trade. 
    If asked to use it in a sentence what would you say? Maybe something like "sounds like a fair trade to me." Or perhaps "I only buy fair trade coffee beans!" Until a few years ago that is about all I might be able to come up with. I had heard the word in a few other contexts but did not really understand the far reaching and potentially life changing aspect of the Fair Trade Market.  Then, when I was living in a city in Central Asia, I was introduced to a little souvenir shop, run by an American family, which stocked only handmade fair trade items. Any time we wanted some gifts to send home, we went there. Why? Because the products were quality made and a large sum of the sale provided the income of the person making it. It was not mass produced in a factory or sweatshop. It was handmade by a person, handcrafted with care. In this particular shop, many of the products were made by families who could not find jobs elsewhere because of their conversion to Christianity in a country that is predominately Muslim. I wish I had photos of these products to share with you. Maybe some of you reading actually have one of these items in your home, a small coaster that looks like a carpet? We bought it from this shop and it is handmade on little carpet looms. Or maybe you received a little wood and stain glass cross? These are made by a man in one of the regions, beautifully crafted and sold in this fair trade shop. This store was my introduction into Fair Trade and a glimpse at how it really does help people to provide for themselves in a legitimate way.

    In other countries around the world, and even right here in our neighboring cities or states, women are finding their way and providing for their families thanks to Fair Trade companies similar to our friend's store in Central Asia. Women who were once trapped in human trafficking or faced with the possibility of having to take their children to an orphanage so they could be better provided for are now able to provide for their families themselves. They do it by making beautiful handmade accessories like this necklace

Or this bracelet

 or making home decor, like this  bowl made by women in India

as well as handbags like this lovely clutch from Haiti

and body care products like these bars of soap made by women in Bangladesh

These items are purchased, at a fair trade rate, by a missional organization called Trades of Hope and then sold to world changers like you here through Compassion Entrepreneur's like me.

Trades of Hope is a direct selling business with a world changing message of hope and I am excited to be a part of their team.

  If you would like to help keep this world changing company growing and thriving and in turn change the lives of fair trade artisans around the world, consider hosting a party and helping me reach out to all your friends educating them on this mission and encouraging them to buy these fair trade products. Or become a part of my selling team! There are only a little over 300 Compassion Entrepreneur's. Now is the time to get involved and make a difference while also making a little extra income or spending money (maybe to save up for a mission trip to Haiti to visit some of our artisans!) or you can always shop www.mytradesofhope.com/kelleigh where every item is under $50 and 100% percent of the time your purchase helps empower women in need!

   I am so excited to be involved with this company and pray you will get excited about it too

   Kelleigh,
Stay-at-Home Mom & Compassion Entrepreneur

www.mytradesofhope.com/kelleigh
www.facebook.com/Kelleigh4TOH
kelleigh.mace@gmail.com

Now for the giveaway:

Contest is closed
  

Thoughts for the day...

I've yet to host a holiday meal (well, not true we had Brian's family our very first Christmas) but I'm beginning to see that I could very well be one of those families that orders take-out during a holiday. I enjoy home cooked food so much more when someone else is making it.
Cooking is certainly NOT my strong point. But here I stare at 3 kilos of unwashed, unpeeled, uncooked potatoes and all the ingredients for green bean casserole....
I think for our family we may start a tradition of baking only (especially for Christmas)  and ordering from somewhere like crackle barrel for the meal....oh wait, that's right. never mind.
Ha, you'd think I was cooking a whole meal for 40 people...nope, just two side dishes ;) It's no big thing at all, I'm happy to do it. Especially since the families we are celebrating with are ones who are always doing so much for others. My contribution to the afternoon is small in comparison.
  I'm just thinking about future holidays when I'm responsible for making precious memories for my family, and ensuring they understand what the holiday (mainly thinking Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving here) is really about. What holiday expectations will I give my children? You want the fun memories, don't want them to miss out on the holiday festivities, but you don't want to be so worked up about a perfect table setting, the menu, or the perfect gift that they can't even explain or appreciate what the holiday is REALLY about. I can get so caught up in my "to do" list and wanting everything to be "in order" so that I can really relax on the holiday that I sometimes wear myself down. And up until this year it's always been as a single girl, or a married lady with no kids. What might that look like in the future, when I have a child looking at me as an example. I don't want her memories to be that of her mom always rushing, cleaning, trying to make perfect and not having time to sit down with a cup of hot chocolate and read the story of Jesus with her. I want to make the time to make cookies together and imperfectly (I have these Martha Stewart expectations I'll never live up to) or have meaningful family conversations and time spent in God's word. I want all the celebrating around these holidays to be God honoring and family focused. Not festivity centered and child or others focused. This year my baby doesn't understand anything but my mood, so I'm working on that. No egg hunts, dying eggs or even baking because, well she is a little young, and it would only take away from  my time with her and her dad. But she certainly picks up on my mood, so  what is most important for me this holiday season is being sure that in all I do - ironing her pretty dress, making food, taking care of her sick dad, taking care of her- I do it joyfully unto the Lord. Which is how everyday should be lived. So let me leave my laziness and homesickness and perfectionist tendencies at His feet, and walk into this beautiful day He has given me with joy and thanksgiving. In His death and resurrection I have all I need, much more than I deserve.  I pray that every day this is the message my daughter sees me living out... day by day... He took up the cross for me, so I do daily for Him, and as an example to her

In the middle of writing this, my delightful baby, who had been playing at my feet, had a blow out diaper, then it was time for her lunch, then the washer was done, dry clothes on the line got folded and put up to make room for the wet ones now hanging, new load in washer, baby down for nap, potatoes now washed, diaper bag packed for tomorrow, and just as I sat back down to finish this, baby woke up. Time to get my happy darling, feed her and spend some joyful time with her. The green bean casserole can wait for her next nap!

Our Hope

   The sun is bright as the snow falls mid-day. Reflections dance in the puddles of water scattered through the streets as men, women and children walk across the roads and down the broken sidewalks trying to stay dry as they hurry on their way. Half the children heading home from school, the older half  heading for school. Home, work, school, their destinations and business are unknown to me, but I look intentionally at each face that passes, thinking on the mundane tasks that make up our days, hoping they would all be able to slow down to see the beauty of the little moments in life. Ultimately, praying something in their day will cause them to think about what they were created for - relationship with their creator. In the beauty and rush of mid-day, we are ridding through the streets of this city, heading to a funeral. Is there anything more final or sobering in life that causes the ages and cultures to pause, to grieve, to wonder what they are really living for?...

   You know the passages in scripture, the ones where Jesus goes to a funeral? There are several recorded in the Gospel's, but two came to mind today. The one where he raises the widow's son (Luke 7:11-16) and the one where he raises Jarius' daughter (Luke 8:49-54) For some reason, perhaps how they were told to me in Sunday School as a child or maybe they were portrayed this way on film, I always think of great grief and wailing when I think on these accounts. Of course, Luke's account says, speaking of Jesus and the widow, "his heart went out to her and He said "Don't cry." Even if it didn't we can imagine that a widow who just lost her son would most certainly be crying! I imagine those following the burial procession were audibly grieving too. In Luke 8:52 it says "meanwhile, all the people were wailing and mourning for her (Jarius' daughter) 'Stop wailing' Jesus said."
   Today, I saw first hand, for the first time, what that heart wrenching sorrow looks like. I was not prepared for it, although I should have been. The man who passed, He is a believer. He is home and in the presence of his Savior, King, Father. He fought a short but fierce battle with cancer and rather than bring partial healing to his flesh, God, in His wisdom and mercy, healed him wholly and took his spirit home. His wife, a dear friend of ours - Brileigh's "nana" - along with their two sons and daughter in law are also believers. However, many of their extended family is not. I should have expected what I experienced for a few reasons. First, we are living in a culture so similar to the one Jesus lived in, and they way they view death and carry out a funeral procession has not changed much. Second, I knew there were not many believers in the family. Finally, he was only 56. His mother is still living, so many friends and family still alive, and while he had cancer, many hoped for remission, recovery and many more years of life for their brother. We hoped the same. Just yesterday, our friend talked about how tired she has become because she has to wake up in the middle of the night to give her husband injections, and she stays awake late to care for him. She didn't mind, she wasn't complaining, she was just talking about sleep patterns as it pertained to our language lesson yesterday. She would say he is so very sick, she really didn't expect him to live much longer, but she prayed always for his healing and held out hope. I was not expecting to hear later that day that he died. Even when death is impending, its moment is all too sudden...

  We arrive, and I see the white tent outside her house, the sight of which makes it feel very real. I see those tents so often and pray for those effected by the death represented, but today it was effecting someone I hold dear. As I walk to the front of her house, door opened, the first thing I notice are all the shoes, a big long pile of them. The house is not big, but many women are crammed inside. I step in, looking down, I can hear the sorrow, tears, cries, wailing, a woman crying out the name of the deceased, crying out the name of her son. My friend stands and walks toward us as we take off our shoes, she hugs Cathy, a believer who experienced the loss of her first husband earlier in life. Cathy holds her tight as our friend cries, and I know she is praying for her. I pray for her. I start to look around the room and realize our brother is lying in the middle of the living room floor, in a box, covered with a cloth, surrounded by women with sorrowful faces and covered heads. The two bedrooms off the living room are also full of women with tears in their eyes. I hug my friend, kiss her check and tell her we love her, and she wipes tears from her eyes as she pulls the blanket back from my sleeping daughter, snuggled in my arms, and kisses her check. She sighs. Brileigh brings her joy. I look forward to that in the days ahead. She turns and hugs another friend who came in with us, a strong sister who whispers a prayer in her ears and again, I look at the scene before me. I pray that the sorrow these women (the men were all outside, in the white tent awaiting the body to be carried out. They would then follow the body to the burial site and the women would stay behind) are feeling and expressing would be replaced with the hope I know my friend feels.

 While she felt and expressed deep grief over the lose of her husband, her life partner, or as they say here her "yol yadash" -which means road companion- she has hope. It's the hope Paul speaks about in 1 Thessalonians 4, that we will all be with Jesus one day. Death is not the end, Jesus has overcome the grave. For those of us who believe on Him there is great hope for this life in that this life is not the end.
I pray that somehow, God will use the death of His child to bring many more children into His family.
  I continue to pray for this dear brother's family, those he left behind, those who grieve for him. It was a very new experience for me, seeing the way his muslim mother grieved. It was heartbreaking. But there was hope in the midst. His eldest son told Brian "yes, I am sad. My father is gone, but he is not suffering here any more. He is in a better place, he is with the Father and we do not have to be sorry about that."

Brileigh with her "nana" who is only a year older than Brileigh's grandma's.

 That puts her loss in perspective for me. 

 

"Best dessert you ever made!"

That is what my husband said after trying a piece of this apple fritter cake.

It's nothing fancy I just whipped up on my own, I don't do that sort of thing. I found the recipe while browsing through Pinterest, along with a few other apple recipes I hope to try in the near future...in fact, I have one of them cooking right now! Although, I have a feeling it isn't going to be the success this dessert was/is...

I just cut a slice out of this cake for us to "taste test" to see if it was good enough to share. It is. So the rest of the cake (along with some carmel and ice cream) are going with us to our friend's house tonight. Hopefully they, and their 5 kids, will enjoy it.


Want to try it for yourself? Find the recipe here <---

A creative outlet...

  I have started to decorate out little home more. When we lived here before, we moved in knowing we'd only be in this flat for 6 months and anything I made or purchased was just going to be put into storage for 4 months. It really discouraged me for doing much on the decorating side of keeping my home. Plus, I was teaching English and in the pre-nesting stages of pregnancy, not much energy leftover for creative things...so other than a few photo frames on the coffee table or in a windowsill, our walls were bare and our house wasn't very "homey." But not this time! For starters, when we moved back in  we brought along a baby, and all the little toys and cute things she comes with. Plus countless adorable photos I want to show off all over our little flat.

I can't hang things on the wall very easily (they are concrete and only so many things hang on those peel and stick hooks,) so I used this little cupboard (our linen closet) to hang my favorite photos of our darling daughter.

I also replaced a few other framed photos with some newborn pictures of her, and some scripture.

(my desk space)

Today, during the baby's afternoon nap, I turned a syrup (amaretto flavored for my coffee) bottle into a vase and painted two canvases I brought with me on our first move over. They've been siting in my linen closet for over a year just waiting for some color and a place to be displayed.

I love my little "tea table" with the new touches, including the bowl of bright lemons reminding me that Spring is right around the corner! 

I recently found some magnets at a little office supply shop here. They don't have the pretty selection you could find at Walmart, or even the dollar store, but hey, they were cheap and they do the trick! Now our refrigerator has photos, adding to the "homey" feeling of our house.

Also during nap time, I turned two Olive Oil bottles into vases, or possibly candle holders, depending on what needs to be displayed :) 

Brian says I'm starting to be a glass bottle/jar hoarder, I have plans for a few of these and a few more I still haven't taken the labels off of. He threw a bottle away the other day and told me not to get it out of the trash. I've also been saving tin cans, maybe I'll share those projects another time. 

The Birth of Brileigh Ray, Part 2

It was this time, just a short five months ago, that Brian and I were welcoming our daughter into the world.

Here is that day in a nutshell...bahahaha who believed that one? (to read the first chapter click here)

  We arrived at Trinity Mother Francis Hospital, in Tyler, Texas (was once convinced all my children would be born in Virginia. Life changes plans) at 3:50am Thursday, September 13, 2012.
By 5am I was in my own room and filling out paperwork between contractions. Brian took a photo of me and I looked great (it'd be in here but he took it on his Iphone, which he sold and it got wiped before I thought about it, the phone also had her coming home photos on it, grrr) and in those first few hours I felt like labor wasn't going to be that bad after all. I had contractions 3 minutes apart and they lasted anywhere from 60-90 seconds. They were painful for sure, but the way the nurses were talking it sounded like my baby would be born by 2pm and I knew I could tough it out until then. The time would speed by I was sure.
   The Dr. on call had seen me and advised that since I was only dilated to a 4 they would not call the midwife as one would be coming on at 7am. Fine by me. Except they had me hooked to a monitor and put an IV in, which I didn't like but dealt with it. At about 6am I had finally gotten permission to get in the tub (although they would still put the monitor on me every 30min) and stayed there for well over an hour. My mom, who had come to the hospital with us, and Brian's mom and brother who came up just after, went back home about this time. I think my in-laws went back to sleep, not sure my mom was able to :)  I was getting texts from my sister Emma, who had left for college just a few days before, and from my dad and brother Jake, and my BFF/cousin, Erin. Wish she could have been there that day!
Shifts changed and I met Angela, who did a great job taking care of me, and Brian, through her whole shift. My Friend, Emily, who works there in the ICU, came up and hung out for a few minutes, which helped pass some time. Brian tried to nap, he also had only three hours of sleep that night, but with the shift change he didn't get much rest.
 We met our midwife, Paige, for the first time at about 7:40am. Of the 5 midwives at TMF she was the only one I had not had a visit with, but she ended up doing a great job. Her many years of experience and the fact that she'd helped birth 30,000 babies put Brian more at ease. I immediately loved her as the first thing she did was take the monitor off and put in an order for the IV to come out too (I had been moving around a lot and I guess was twisting my wrists during contractions and it had been bleeding, so it was nice to not have that to worry about anymore) She told me to drink plenty of water and to ask for anything I needed, popsicles, 7up, ginger ale, water, ice...any of THOSE things that I needed ;)
   From about 8am-10am I rocked on a birthing ball through contractions and passed time on FB and Pinterest....yes, I did. I had the lights in the room very dim, the smell of peppermint oil infused the room, and relaxing music was playing.  Through contractions, Brian would rub my back, it got kind of exhausting for both of us as they got about 2 minutes apart fairly quickly, and lasted about 90seconds. Brian was so great though at keeping me entertained and asking Angela for anything I needed.
   I got back in the tub around 10am to give us both a break (if you are considering natural birth, GET IN THE TUB, it's wondrous during those first several hours) I was only in for about 30min when Angela came in to check Brileigh's heartbeat. She happened to be from Lindale and her and Brian found a lot to talk about. She was very encouraging and helped make my first experience as relaxing and enjoyable as is possible! It helps to have people around you who can sense your mood and needs and she did well with that. She also let the other nurses know she had a patient who was laboring all natural, which I guess isn't common for the hospital. They seemed to be amazed that I was able to stay calm through contractions and was doing so well. Boy am I glad I didn't know what was ahead! So, when I was getting out of the tub the contractions picked up and I started to wonder if I really could make it without any medicinal help...pain relief sounded pretty great, so I asked if they could check me and see what might help me at the stage I was in.
     At 10:30am, Paige came in and checked and said I was over 8cm, almost 9! At that point my mom and sisters were on their way up and Brian let his family know as well. Everyone thought it'd be soon. My friend, Morgan, who is a brilliant photographer, offered to come up so she could be there to take photos when Brileigh was born. My mom and sisters came back to the room for a little while so Brian could go get something to eat. Our friend, a father of 5 -including twins- kept texting Brian asking if Brileigh had been born yet, and it seemed everyone was wondering the same thing and waiting for her to come at any time. Up until about 1pm the time seemed to fly by.

   Around 2pm, I got back in the tub. At this time, I was so tired and really starting to wonder why it seemed I wasn't progressing anymore. My contractions were not as long or hard as they had been and as I was in the tub, they seemed to get further apart. I got out of the tub and decided that if they were going to lessen I probably should get into bed and try to rest. Morgan, who had been there for a few hours, had to leave and pick up her kids. Before she did, she came back to say hello and also left her camera with my sister Olivia so we could still have those precious first moments captured. It was such a priceless gift! Just one of the reasons Brileigh was named after Morgan.  I was in the bed, laying down from about 3-4pm, EXHAUSTED. During contractions I grabbed on to the bed handle and was barely able to breath through each one. As soon as the pain subsided I'd loosen my grip and completely relax  passed out for about 2 minutes until the next one. Brian would rub my back and then when they stopped I'd rest pass out again. I was so tired I just wanted the contractions to stop for 30minutes so I could sleep! I  don't know if I ever said it out loud, but I wished I could just pause the progress and pain, sleep through the night, and then start again refreshed the next morning. Of course, that wasn't an option. I think it was around 4pm when my sister-in-law, Alicia, came back to say hi. She grabbed the tennis balls I had brought and started rubbing my back. Even though the intensity of the contractions had picked back up, what she did really helped to relax, rest and reserve the strength I needed for the following three hours.
  From about 11a-4p I progressed 1cm, barely! It was about 5pm when Paige came in (she had been in and out several times, offering me different methods to work through contractions, checking my progress and offering her expertise and encouragement) to check my progress again. I was 9 and 3/4cm dilated, AAAAND baby was face up. Oh joy! Paige had me lay on my side in a "runners" position in an attempt to turn the baby. The contractions in this position were the most painful yet. They were nothing compared to what was coming...
  My sister-in-law Jessica, who was the only family within 100 miles NOT in the waiting room all afternoon (Brian's dad was out of town, but made it just a few hours after baby was born. My dad and brothers were in MA/PA and Emma was in Fl) came in to say hi at about 5:30p.m. and my water broke! They all joked Brileigh was just waiting for her Aunt Jessica to get there. Ok, so I had been praying for days that my water would break and I'd go into labor (if you read part 1, remember the stress I was feeling about Brian leaving and baby not being born, being induced etc.?) At the point my water did break 1. I got a little chuckle when Jess said "Okay, well I guess I'll be going now...good luck" and could imagine the excitement of everyone who had been waiting all day. 2. I felt relief 3. I was thankful it didn't happen sooner because the first contraction post water break hit and THAT was the most pain I'd felt up to that point. Then the next one was more painful, and so on...They told me again how I'd know it was time to start pushing and that they were sure it'd be soon but not to rush it. Because they said sitting on the toilet might help with the pressure, I got out of the bed (where I'd probably only been three or less hours the whole time, most of the day I was on my feet, on the ball or bent over the bed. I moved around a lot!) and sat on the toilet. From about this point everything got a little blurry, felt a bit like my wedding day - as far as detailed memories go- only there is no video to remind me of what happened. But this is how I remember it, you might get a different story if you ask any of the others who were present during those two hours.
    After starting contractions at 7pm Wednesday night, and getting checked into the hospital at 4am, finally began to feel the urge to push close to 6p.m. The pain was so intense and did not let up. I tried to tell Brian to call the nurse, but it was too hard to talk so I just started breathing hard and probably crying a little and pulled on the nurse call by the toilet, and pulled and pulled until they came. Oh, those ladies. So much respect for them doing this every day.
 They helped me back to the bed where I stood bent over grasping at my pillow. If it'd been alive, it'd've been dead! For about an hour, the pain quickly intensified and we tried three or four different positions to help me get through the contractions. At one point, I remember this really well because I was a little embarrassed after, I was on my knees in the bed with my arms over the birthing ball and Paige was rocking my hips back and forth. It was helpful the first three times or so, but then it was super annoying, fast, and so I just slapped the ball right off the bed and got on all fours. I was having a hard time communicating with words, and I felt so clueless as to what position would help relieve pain, was pretty sure I was going to go through a lot more pain before I felt any relief and I was SO tired I wasn't sure I could handle much more. Oh.My.WORD! But the nurses and midwife were so encouraging. I kept screaming "I can't do it." and they kept saying I could. Brian, who had been my life saver all day, was standing by the head of the bed, occasionally putting his hand on my shoulder. Honestly, I can't remember if he did much else, but he managed to keep a somewhat calm face which helped me calm down when I looked at him. At one point though, they were changing my gown and the sheets due to them being covered in blood (I didn't ask, I'm still not sure) I was pretty oblivious to what was going on until I heard Paige telling Brian that everything was okay, what was happening was normal and I was fine, baby was fine, and I was doing well. I looked at him and he looked a bit worried and I realized what was going on. It snapped me back to reality and about that time we started getting into position for me to really start pushing. I tried to stand, but after the first time I felt like I was going to collapse so I knew I had to be on the bed. I saw they had brought in a tray with lots of tools and I had no idea what any of them were for, nor did I want to know. I figured most of them were things they had to have close by "just incase" and I prayed everything would go well, especially with baby still being sunny side up. I also noticed them bringing in the stuff for baby and I tried to focus on that. 90% of getting through labor and delivery is your mindset. Focus on the positive, on the reason why your body is going through all the crazy things it is and ride that positive wave. Just before this I had thought about asking if someone could get my mom. I knew I needed someone feeding me these positive thoughts because I was to the point where I thought they might have to cut my baby out. I was just so tired. It's amazing the way God created us for this though. It is also amazing how he created us as a family unit and even though I would have loved my mom to be in there I knew the only person I needed was already right by my side. Brian was a bit surprised when Paige told him to grab my foot once the pushing started. He was on my left side and looking right at my face, no where else. The nurse had my right foot...oh yeah, so it was about 6:50p when I started pushing. Shift switch time. A new nurse, Caroline or Catherine, I can't remember. Came on and Angela briefed her then went to finish her other paperwork etc. whatever it is nurses do when their shifts end (if it were a correction facility I might have more of an idea, but I imagine it's not too much more different, lots of paperwork and passing on info) The next 40 minutes, looking back, seemed like 5 but in the moment felt like hours.    
    Honestly, this is how I'd describe those last few moments of giving birth
"As you are pushing out your baby, body on fire, completely exhausted, but unable to come close to any kind of rest or relaxation, you think you are on the edge of Hell and then that baby takes it's first breath, the fire subsides, a rush of adrenaline comes over you with an overwhelming and incomparable rush of love & joy and you are convinced the only moment that will ever surpass this is when you reach Heaven and see your Savior's face." Delivering your baby is going from Hell to Heaven in a moment! At least for me that is how it was...
I spent 40minutes on the edge of Hell, it was UGLY. Brian kept telling me to pull it together, I can do it, listen to Paige, HOLD your breath, PUUUUSH, he was great. Paige kept her voice calm and with the skill of someone who had participated in around 30,000 births but the excitement and joy of someone seeing it for the first time, kept telling me that I was doing great, doing the right thing, coming closer each time.  Looking back one day, Brian and I laughed saying we both felt she was lying to us the whole time. I thought that baby girl was never getting out. But she knew what she was doing and helped me delivery that baby.
At one point, I had asked for a cold wash cloth, felt like I was on fire, I had stopped pushing and was catching my breath when 10 seconds later I started pushing again. The nurse runs back to the bed, puts the cloth on the bed handle NEXT to my head and grabs my foot and puts it on her shoulder. As I'm holding my breath and pushing I really wanted to swear. I grabbed the cloth and rubbed it all over my face. Another time, I can't remember if it was before or after that, but I was short of breath I guess and they were giving me oxygen between pushing. I let the nurse put that thing on my face twice before I grabbed it from her. I set it half-way over my mouth and nose as I breathed between pushing and then tossed it on the bed. I tried it because I figure they are the experts and if it was going to help me and my baby then I'd do it, but I hated it, so I stopped. I hated it. Then, and again can't remember the sequence, just that I was in the pushing position, my mouth and throat were really dry and I was feeling a little light headed. I asked for some water. They gave me my 7up, which had made me feel a little nauseous earlier (the only time my tummy was upset) and I didn't want to drink it. I said I wanted the water but they said the sugar would be good since I was so tired. I took a "sip" spitting it right back through the straw and said "can I have some water now?" then I had to push, and I looked at Brian and said "I. Need. WATER. please" and the nurse gave it to me. I felt like I was on the edge of Hades people, and looking back, I'm pretty sure everyone in the room felt like they were dealing with a daemon. But then I reached the most painful part. I felt like hot pokers were stabbing their way out of my birthing canal. I had been praying, out loud, on and off during the previous 60 or so times I pushed (I really don't know how many times it was, felt like thousands) asking God to just give me what I needed and to keep my baby safe. As I pushed this time -and I know you are supposed to hold your breath, I was bad at that- I screamed "What the HEEEEEELL!" (please forgive me, maybe I shouldn't be so open about that) and then I was in heaven. It seriously happened that fast.
"1940" I heard the nurse call her time of birth and I heard them talking, can't remember what they were saying but I didn't hear any crying. Brian was still holding my foot up and looking at me, but I sat forward and saw my baby's slimy, purplish, sweet and beautiful face. Without thinking I reached for her. Paige said "go ahead momma, she is still inside, but you can pull her the rest of the way. You did great." I put my hands around her tiny chest and pulled her up on mine. I felt like crying, looking at her and then Brian. The first thing I said was "you are so beautiful" I called her by her name, and praised Brian for the great job he did. He took some pictures and the nurses did what they needed to.

 Paige went and got both of our mom's so they could meet their granddaughter. Brileigh is the first granddaughter on both sides and first grandchild for my parents.  When our mom's came back my mom asked if we were ready to share Brileigh's middle name and so Brian told them what we chose. Ray, after Morgan Rae Gauntt but spelled like a ray of sunshine. It was the only name we both agreed on and we believe it is perfect for her!

 The first hour of her life Brileigh laid on my chest, the nurse helped me feed her and then she took Brileigh to finish cleaning her, prick her, weigh her and all that important stuff. She was 7lbs 3oz 20in and oh so perfect. I sat in bed, freezing cold, with about 3 layers of warm blankets on me, watching my little family. Olivia came back to take pictures and I called Morgan to tell her how we'd picked Brileigh's name. When baby was all cleaned up, at about 80minutes old, Brian held her for the first time and they have been best buddies ever since. I was riding a high those next few hours. It was the best feeling ever. It was also pretty painful and slightly embarrassing the things my body went though those hours, days and weeks following birth.
  If you are a first time mommy, talk with someone who has gone through what you are about to experience. Talk with someone who has done it natural, ask for as many details as she can recall, talk with someone who has had an epi, someone who had a c-section. Get all the info you can, find a great support system Dr/midwife, family, nurse staff etc., and take a birthing class (I took one on-line that really helped) All those things really helped me to have a wonderful first experience. I think everything that came AFTER the baby was a lot nastier than all that came before, but you are also dealing with feeding a baby, lack of sleep, and all the new hormone changes, plus your body healing. It's painful and yucky, but there is nothing more rewarding than that instant when you go from the edge of Hell to Heaven.
 I love my Brileigh Ray of Sunshine. I'd do it over and over again for her.

I can't even imagine

I can't imagine being in the situation where I might consider abortion. I am thankful that life, and the decisions I've made in it have not led me to that place. I can't imagine, had I ever been in that situation, ever been faced with that thought, that I ever would have made the choice to terminate my pregnancy. To kill my baby. Then again, "But for the grace of God, so go I."

It was this time last year, Jan. 19, 2012 at 6:45pm in the evening to be exact, that I took a test to confirm my suspicions that I was pregnant. The instant I saw two lines I began to cry.Not tears of sadness but ears of joy and gratitude to the Creator of all life. He had answered my prayers for a child.

 For me, in that moment where hCG levels were high enough to confirm there was a human growing within me, my baby - gender unknown, name yet to be given, face still unseen, yet heart beating, body being formed - was as dear to me and loved by me as she is here in this moment as I hold her in my arms. I couldn't imagine doing something to prevent this little life from forming inside me and entering our world. I thank God everyday for the life He created and that He deemed Brian and I the best fit for her.

I can't imagine today without her in it.

This is why, with the anniversary of Roe V. Wade, I grieve for all those women who chose their life over their child's. I grieve for the mothers who, whatever their situation, whatever their reason, whatever their motives were, made the choice to take their baby's life. I can't imagine. I can't even begin to imagine...but my prayer are with them.