I Have Been Given Life

Can I get sappy for a minute? 

Thanks. 

We often talk about having children in terms of "giving life."

Mothers are often hailed as almost goddesses in our ability to create and shape people. 

Which I love. 

I absolutely love the ability that I have been blessed with to carry and birth these tiny little humans. Adore it. There isn't a day that goes by that I am not grateful for it.

But I feel like I'm being short-changing them if I don't get real and give them some of the credit, too. 

I may have made them, and I may be raising them, but I have been given life by these babes. I know saying that my children are my life often brings some discontent among more feminist females than I, but I am a mother. That's who I was always meant to be. Having babies and spending all of my time and effort raising those babies is my calling. I get that it's not that way for everyone. I get that some moms need time away or need a break or need something else driving them in life-- and I think that's equally beautiful and worthy. But I, to my core, am a mama. 

But that's the absolutely beautiful thing about the fact that my children have given me life just as much as I've given them theirs--it's true for every single mom out there. Working, Stay-at-home, has a nanny...it doesn't matter. This phrase connects us all because we have all felt it. 

My life is so different because of my children. Daily they teach me things that I never would have learned had it not been for them. Daily I am re-evaluating myself and changing things to become better. To become more. 

They've given me patience to stop and think rationally before I act. 

They've given me resolve to think critically and from a hundred different angles to solve a tantrum or find a solution for a problem. 

They've given me the understanding of how important it is to slow down in life and live in the moment. To appreciate that moment. 

They've given me understanding and forgiveness. 

I may have given them life. I may have brought them into this world and witnessed their first breaths but in so many more ways than I can describe they have truly given me the most useful skills and the best understanding of life. 

Does that mean that I'm always quick to hug and slow to yell? No. Of course not. My toddler is pushing every single boundary imaginable. Generally this is happening at the same time his sister is crying in my arms. It is exhausting. It is trying and it is hard. But it is beautiful and rewarding.

But that means that even on the hardest days, even when I feel like I just can't solve a single problem or navigate a single melt-down,  they give me the love and passion and will to try again. And when I have a bad day, when I go to bed regretting a word or an action, they give me a new day with a new chance to be better. 

Today I Chose Happiness

Today my toddler was grumpy. A two year old, grumpy? I know, it's insane. But he was. Not just a little grumpy. He was all out tantruming, hitting, kicking, scary grumpy. 

His 2.5 week old sister is gassy and cluster feeding which makes a grumpy toddler much more fun than usual. YSo after an intense cuddling session I unloaded my plan. "Wanna watch a show?" was of course met with an enthusiastic "yeah!" and ended all tears. 

Until he couldn't decide which show to watch. Cue meltdown. Somehow, as only toddlers can manage, this turned into an all out fight. Which turned into lots of awesome toddler screaming. All moms love being screamed at, right? And that folks, led to a declaration. "Okay! No shows today." What did I just say?! Holding my ground often means my plans of an "easy day" go out the window. 

I was exasperated. I was exhausted. I was feeling the anger well up inside of me and I was so close to tears myself. 

And I made a choice. 

Instead of giving in and getting mad, and frustrated and short--I chose to still make today happy. 

Which is so so hard for me. When I get mad, I'm mad. It's really hard for me to change that frame of mind. This often leads to me being short and distant with whoever it is that gets me to that point. 

So I decided to get over it. To free myself of feeling that anger (which as soon as that sweet little tantruming toddlers head rests on his pillow tonight will surely have turned to mom guilt) and try to salvage the day for the three of us. 

Instead of being short and distant I decided to be loving. 

Instead of losing my temper (which I like to think happens to us all) I chose to keep my cool. 

Instead of sticking him in his room and crying we broke out the Nemo bath toys he picked out last night at target. While the baby napped we played in the bath, blew bubbles and danced. 

And you know what? I wasn't angry anymore. 

I wasn't frustrated. I wasn't close to tears or wishing for bedtime. 

As we looked at and named all of the Finding Dory characters on the bathtub tile for the millionth time I felt that familiar heaviness in my heart. I felt the love for this difficult stubborn little boy swell. And I smiled. 

By making one small choice to choose happiness we both were able to make what could have been an exhausting and downright crummy night into something good. Something fun. 

It's hard sometimes. I feel like being a mom means giving up your right to be upset or frustrated. And it does. There is definitely a time to feel those things--but sometimes it also isn't. Sometimes that human reaction robs us of these otherwise perfect moments.  

I'm far from perfect. I have no clue what I'm doing most of the time. Tomorrow maybe I'll yell. Tomorrow maybe I'll give in and feel defeated.

But today I chose happiness. Maybe I did a whole "fake it till you make it" thing--but it worked. ❤️

 
 

natural birth...ouch!

Let me start by saying I LOVED my epidural with Thatcher. Seriously, it was great. That little button you get to push? A thing of beauty. That being said, after I had thatcher I never felt like I had experienced labor. I didn't truly felt like I'd been an active participant in my birth. 

So as soon as I found out I was pregnant with Olivia I decided I wanted the whole experience this time. I spent months reading countless birth stories and experiences, books, breathing techniques and blogs. I was so prepared. I had this! Easy peasy. 

HAHHAHA. oh, sorry. 

On the morning of July 15th we got to the hospital at 545 in the morning. Id been having contractions basically all night and hadn't slept more than a few hours. Some of that was probably due to the fact that I knew I'd be spending the day away from thatcher soon which made me anxious and sad. 

After getting hooked up to the monitors I was told my contractions were already coming every 3-4 minutes. We decided to stay and walk around the hospital and wait for Dr. Bierer to come. I was still contracting around 8:30 or so when he arrived so I had him break my water to speed things up. He broke my water and then together he and Jeff gave me a priesthood blessing, which was amazing. I'm so grateful to have a husband and a doctor who are able to give me that comfort and strength in a time of serious need.

After my water was broken I labored on my own for about 2-2.5 hours. While still consistent my contractions weren't getting too much closer together so we decided to do just a bit of pitocin to get my body in a 2 minute pattern. 

People aren't kidding when they say pitocin is ROUGH. Being hooked up to the iv and monitors was so hard. I wanted to walk and move and get in the bath, but I couldn't which made those contractions come crashing down all the harder. I had been breathing through them and really using and appreciating my birth affirmations up until this point but it started to get pretty painful. My labor wasn't in my back like I'd expected, it was in my front. Almost like I had to pee SO SO SO badly every time. There wasn't much massaging or rubbing I could do to help it because it was right where she was. So, I screamed. BOY, did I scream. Loudly. Incoherently. Unabashed screaming. My sweet friend Jessica was there and while Jeff massaged my back and shoulders, swayed and rocked with me and wet my face with a wash cloth she cheered me on and offered different positions that may help. 

In my agony I shot down every wonderful suggestion she had. I. Was. Miserable. 

But my goal was the bath. I really really wanted that bath. I'd heard wonderful magical things about laboring in water. I needed the water. After I made it through the worst of the pitocin contractions, I still had to stay hooked up to the monitor for thirty agonizing minutes. It was torture and I begged, earnestly now, for drugs. 

Finally I was able to get in the bath. Before I got in my delivery nurse said, "if you feel like you have to push or poop at all you CANNOT get in the bath!" Of course I didn't, i said. 

I lied. I lied so badly. BUT GUYS! I earned that freaking bath! I was only at 5 cm dilated anyway, so I had time. 

Haha! Time. Right. 

So I got into my bath, which did help a lot. I still screamed loudly during my contractions, but it was more tolerable. I think I only had about 2 contractions in the bath. Then, I started to push. I can't describe it, but I really felt strongly that I needed to push. I couldn't even think about what it meant, I just had to. I told Jessica weakly and at first she thought I was mistaken. No way, I'm only at a five. Then I must have said it more urgently because she ran to call the nurses in. 

They knew baby would be coming soon so they'd began to set up the delivery things. Jeff and Jessica cheered me on and assured me that we were so close--look at all the delivery prep! I got into bed and my nurse checked me again. At this point my contractions were peaking--I was so so so done. I looked Jeff in the eyes and again BEGGED for that epidural. I did NOT want to do this. WHY was I doing this?! I was at 8 cm now and though they said I could have the epidural (which Jeff realized I was so serious about and actually asked them for it, too) they said it wouldn't kick in. I was close. In my mind I'm thinking "well I'm not paying for it not to work. Screw it, I'm dying anyway." I'm a little dramatic. So, we decided no epidural. 

Suddenly, the urge to push was completely and totally overwhelming. While I was in fact pushing i wasn't in control--my body was pushing that baby out regardless. I screamed that she was coming and the nurses scrambled around. Some finishing up delivery prep, some calling for my doctor, and my delivery nurse checking me. In the few minutes I asked for the epidural I had reached 10 cm. the nurses screamed for me to stop pushing but I really couldn't. It went against everything my body was doing. 

I should point out though that at this point I had no idea that my baby was being born. They kept telling me not to push and I kept yelling at them, "IM JUST POOPING! Let me poop!" Which I believed. Until Jessica and my nurse got inches from my face and said "Taylor. That's your baby's head. Stop!" So I guess if I had to equate child birth to anything, it's the #2. 😉

Also, any fear I had of pooping in labor was out the window in that moment that o literally thought I was. 

Okay, proceed. 

They called my doctor again, called the on call doctor and the charge nurse. I remember hearing my nurse saying that she didn't feel comfortable delivering the baby and I had to wait. Uh- yeah right. So while I'm pushing and screaming (I was literally screaming "get out" at the top of my lungs) my delivery nurse pushed Olivia's head back in. BACK INTO MY BODY! Which freaking hurt because, hello, not how that's supposed to happen. Two times Olivia's head was born and two times the nurse held her back in. 

Finally the on call doctor sauntered in. He literally sauntered, slowly, into the room and proceeded to make small talk with me. I snapped "I DO NOT WANT TO TALK TO YOU" while the nurse yelled that he didn't have time and she was coming. He rushed to get a gown and gloves on while I continued to push. He barely caught Olivia. My legs weren't even in the stirrups, she just came out on the bed and he cut the cord. Which really upset me too because we'd opted for delayed cord clamping but I figured since it was kind of a rushed situation what could you do. As soon as the cord was cut my doctor walked in and finished up. 

From the time I got out of the bath and into bed to the time she was totally born was TWO MINUTES. Which probably would have been more like 30 seconds had they not kept her from coming out. I didn't realize it was even that fast until I watched the video that Jessica took. 

It was so intense and fast and insane. And while I was pretty miserable during transition, I'm so glad that Jeff and Jessica kept me on track and didn't let me get the epidural. I'm not sure yet if it's an experience that I'll have again, but it's an experience I'm so grateful to have had. 

I have so much respect for birth. Natural, C-section, epidural. It's all so amazing that were able to house and birth these tiny humans. Our bodies are seriously perfect.

And now almost two weeks later were so in love with our Olivia Ona. She's a sweet, mild girl who eats ferociously and snuggles perfectly. 

Her name makes her even more special to us, too. Ona comes from Jeffs grandmother who is one of the strongest, most intelligent and caring women I've been blessed to know. We can only hope that our little Ona will be like her namesake. 

 

 

 

Just a Mom

Something happened to me the other day. It's something that's happened a handful of times in the last two years and it feels like it's time to speak up. 

I recently reconnected with an old friend. After catching up a bit and talking about life he asked if I was super successful like he'd thought I'd be when we were younger. After hearing that I quit college to stay at home with my kids he said, "so wait.. you're just a mom?" I have to admit, it stung. Even though it's not the first time that someone who isn't caught up with my current life has made a comment indicating that I have "given up" what could have been a great career or "let myself quit" school, which I was actually pretty good at, it still hurt. 

I am not "just a mom." I have not "given up" anything. In fact, the way I see it I've gained a great deal more.

"Just a mom" seriously implies that what I'm doing isn't enough, important or valued. "Just a mom" means that I've somehow lowered my standards or my ambition and settled for something not as worthy. In reality, isn't being "just a mom" more than that? I'm not just cleaning up spills and building block towers. I'm not just kissing knees and washing diapers. I'm choosing to put aside most of my previous identity, my time, my sleep, and every bit of me to raise another human who will (hopefully) become a productive and moral adult.

And in my eyes, I haven't "given up" all that much in the process. 

I've gained more patience, more love, and more of an understanding of sacrifice than I could have ever imagined. I've learned so many things outside the realm of academic knowledge and I've been given the gift of time with my babies. 

School is wonderful. It's great--but it isn't for everyone. I'm extremely proud to be a mother. I'm happier not having my degree than I can even explain- and in the process I've found things I'm truly truly passionate about.

My life is more than "just a mom." 

Peek inside of my Jujube BFF

I've had a lot of questions and comments on my diaper bag. I guess Petunia Picklebottom is pretty popular in Utah, so it's not as common to see a jujube? I'm not sure, but I thought I'd just blog about my bag instead of answering multiple questions.

This is my diaper bag fully packed for one baby. We're having another baby in July, but it'll basically be the same things give or take a couple items. 

The front pocket, or the "mommy pocket", has things for me. Usually it's: wallet, keys, hair ties, hand sanitizer, chapstick, pen & glasses. I usually have a ton of room left over. 

This is the main inside pocket packed. 

It always amazes me how much it holds. I have: 

Day planner, 2 Thatcher books, a mama book, bib, burp cloth (to wipe runny noses), tiny book of mormon, 4 or 5 cars, a spatula (aka best toy ever), Han solo riding a tauntaun, mummy toy, usually 4 or 5 snacks (which generally I keep packed in a breastmilk storage zipper bag inside the bag but it's in the wash), changing pad (has its own pocket on the back of the bag), 2 cloth diapers, wetbag (bag you put dirty diapers in while out and about), 2 or 3 cloth wipes, homemade bum cream and tissues. 

Usually a sippy cup is in the side pocket. I still have lots of room for more diapers, cloth breastpads etc when we have two. 

I seriously love this bag! It's so roomy, never feels over packed or too heavy and I love that it can be a backpack or messenger bag. Basically you all need a jujube! 

:) 

Why Cloth ROCKS!

It really surprises me that we didn't cloth diaper Thatcher from the beginning. Before I had him I had always talked about cloth diapering and knew it was something I liked, but when you're at the hospital and they give you free diapers and you have people graciously buying you box after box of diapers (seriously, you all rock, we had free diapers for almost a year!) it is just kind of assumed you'll use disposables. 

We decided (okay, I decided) to start cloth diapering when Thatcher was younger, probably around 9 months or so. But then his perianal abcess came around and we didn't know how long he'd have it, how to deal with it and didn't want to change any of our routine in case it came back. Plus, there was the whole fact that I'd decided on pocket style diapers and they have a bigger start up cost, and you know the whole poop issue. 

Yes, the poop issue. The first thing most people think about when you tell them you cloth diaper. What about the poop? It scared me, and forking out a few hundred in diapers and supplies scared my hubby, even if we were saving money in the long run. 

So we waited. 

Until last week. I made an AMAZING discovery. The all-in-two system of cloth diapering. I could seriously hear a chorus of hallelujah angels in my mind as i gobbled up every bit of information I could online about these blessed diapers. And so, at three in the morning, I decided we were going to make the switch. 

Now, we're three days (and one explosive poop- ew!) in and I AM IN SO MUCH LOVE. It may be premature, but I thought I'd write a little about why I'm completely obsessed with cloth diapers now-a-days. 

The Cost

Obviously, cloth diapers are cheaper. Every month we had to buy a 20-30 dollar box of diapers on top of 10-15 dollar wipes, I cringed. Seriously shuddered. We hated the fact that we were spending hard earned money on something that was literally a portable toilet for our baby. Something we threw away to fill the landfill (more on that later). 

Like I said, we were very turned onto cloth diapering by the all in two system. Upon further research however I discovered an even cheaper option: prefolds and covers. This is the only style we've used, but it is so unbelievably cost-effective! Seriously, we bought 7 covers and 22 prefolds and we're set to cloth diaper full time doing laundry only every three or four days for SIXTY DOLLARS. That's it. We ordered a few more supplies (wetbags and detergent) that we could have easily done without and we're set. No more buying diapers every month, no more throwing money down the diaper genie. 

The Environment

I've always been cautious of my impact on the earth. I want to leave a beautiful place for my kids and their families, so it's important to me to make changes where I can to reduce my imprint. In the US on average per year 27.4 BILLION diapers are used and tossed into landfills. Our country spends 7 BILLION dollars a year on diapers that are thrown away and it takes 200 to 500 years for a diaper to decompose. That's a huge impact, and when I think about the vast number of diapers we used in the first 15 months on Thatcher it makes me ill. Our cloth diapers however can be washed, re-washed, sunned and stripped for years and last us a few kids since they're made to fit from 8-35 pounds. That's a lot of waste eliminated! 

The "Squee" Factor

Hello? Have you SEEN an adorable fluffy bum? The size alone is adorable but the prints they make now days are TO DIE FOR. Harry Potter, Star Wars, Cat in The Hat, Dragon Scales, the list goes on and on and on. Seriously, if you can imagine it there's probably a diaper cover for it. And I LOVE it. I have a list seriously 30 plus long of diapers I'm dying to buy. They're dang cute, and that's a factor for me! 

Comfort/Guilt

I never noticed how disposables feel like paper. And while maybe it isn't uncomfortable if that's all a bum knows, wouldn't it feel much better to be covered in natural materials like hemp, cotton or bamboo? I feel way better putting soft yummy smelling cotton against Thatcher's little bum than I did the disposable diapers. It just feels right! 

These are just a few things that I've noticed in the last few days we've done cloth. There's a big misconception out there that they're more difficult to use and harder to get clean, but that just isn't so. I spend maybe 5 seconds more per diaper change and washing is a breeze thanks to websites like fluff love university and local cloth groups. We've had numerous changes, poops (even explosions which are rare) and have done our first load of diaper laundry and I think it's very very safe to say that while it may not work for everyone, it's definitely the life for us! 

Now to wait "patiently" by the mailbox for our first fluff mail to arrive so I can squee over our cute new covers! :-)

Hi, I'm Taylor and I Breastfeed.

Whew, I'm glad we got that out there. Lately it feels like you almost have to whisper that fact as to not offend anyone or have unwanted advice thrown at you, and that's not fair. 

Thatcher and I had the opportunity to attend the Big Latch On last year. It was such a fun thing to be a part of a world record while raising awareness for breastfeeding and normalizing it in public. I even met some really cool mama's that share a lot of my own interests.

Next month there will be another Latch On and I'm really excited to go with another little nursling. But it also makes me remember the pain it caused last year as well. 

 At first, I was overwhelmed by the amount of negative or non-understanding comments about a picture that showed less than a bikini. Just as a disclaimer I will NEVER EVER get angry or offended that you believe differently than me.. on anything. Seriously, we may not agree but I think that some things work for some people that may not work for others; to each their own. So I hope that my discussions with breastfeeding never get taken that way. I will however, try to educate because it's an issue that is close to my heart and so important to many mothers and dads out there. When the negativity came raining down I cried a lot, which isn't like me. I have pretty tough skin. It wasn't because I was hurt or because people were disagreeing or criticizing my choice to feed my baby in public. It was because it was all at once. It was like standing in a room and being shouted at by ten different people and not being able to say anything to my defense. It was a little paralyzing. 

But just when the negative comments and messages (and not all were negative, some were simply curious) were becoming too much I received almost as many positive ones. I received messages from a handful of friends and acquaintances who are currently expecting and a handful from some who have babies. The former expressed their gratitude to my desire to educate people on breastfeeding and my desire to make it normal in any setting. Some said that they didn't plan on breastfeeding because they knew it could be isolating and made harder by others because they knew they would be judged or lectured, but because of my passion and love for it they wanted to try. The latter expressed thanks that I was brave enough to do something that they felt they couldn't do without dealing with negative consequences. 

And then I remembered that's why I do it. That's what this is all about. If I can help one woman to overcome that fear of being criticized to feed her precious baby however she wants (whether it be in public, private, a car, a store, covered or uncovered) my goal is accomplished. We need to remember that we are a sisterhood of mothers and that our choices can impact others more than we realize. 

So to clear things up, this is why I choose to breastfeed in public without a blanket. 

Because Thatcher hates having a blanket over his face. He was a summer newborn and got in the habit of pushing away a blanket early on because it was HOT! And I don't blame him! 

Because breastfeeding isn't sexual and it's not necessarily intimate for everyone. While you can feel strong emotions of love and adoration while breastfeeding when it comes down to it milk is milk and babies need to eat. I will not be held responsible for other's sexualization of something.  

Because I used to breastfeed in private and it was the most isolating feeling I've known. Sitting for an hour at a time (and even now for minutes) while others are out enjoying company of each other is a bummer. 

Because I've met so many women who give up because of lack of resources or information and don't trust their bodies when in reality they were doing everything perfectly. 

Because I've met so many women who have given up breastfeeding purely because someone disapproved or shamed them in public. 

Because feeding my baby should be so normal that others don't even notice or bat an eye-- it shouldn't cause an uproar. Businesses should accept a mother nourishing her child in any way so long as she's doing it safely. 

Because for us, it's right. 

I believe that every parent and child are different. And that's why mother's should be able to feed however they please and not be shamed. Breastfeeding is hands down my favorite thing about being a mother. It's the greatest ability that God has blessed me with, and I will fight for the right of those who choose to do it publicly however they feel comfortable. 

Mothers already have a tough job with long hours and little time to socialize with others. Imagine how amazing it could be if we stood with each other instead of tearing each other down.