Birth stories are the best stories, in my opinion. They are magical and wonderful and a feat of strength to be shown in this world. My last two labors were quite similar in their progression but each special in their own right. I have so many intimate moments with Rowans birth, and I wanted to share.
Read morenaming.
A year later, I am getting around to sharing more of Rowan’s story. This part is very intimate to me and may not mean much to anyone else, but I wanted to share how we chose the lovely name of Rowan June for our dear girl.
Read moreto the ones who made me a momma.
I have had many people ask if I regret having kids so young. And I think that is a question worth answering.
First, I believe God has a journey for each of us. And it was as clear as your two little heartbeats during that first ultrasound that this was mine. My journey of motherhood, my journey of who I am. He was in control the whole time. He wanted you here with me in that time. It is so apparent.
Read moreshame and significance in birth and postpartum.
How I wish things were different for mothers today. I wish we all had the support we yearn for and felt as strong and confident as we all really are. But sadly this is not the case. I have been wanting to write this for the past nearly 8 weeks, but have held off. I feel like what I have to say may be "taboo." I have been afraid of what people will think. If they will understand. If they will judge me. If they will think I'm ungrateful, or petty, or dramatic. But I'm not going to let that fear hold me back. This is just my story, my thoughts, my feelings. And chances are if I have felt this way, perhaps someone else has too. I honestly think we should all try to be a little bit more aware of how others might be thinking and feeling before we say things...especially pertaining to birth and postpartum, when women, understandably, are at a vulnerable point physically, mentally, and emotionally.
Unfortunately, women can be cruel. We get caught up in the competition and comparison. Yes, me too. And instead of evaluating before we speak, we don't hesitate to share our opinion. I really want to talk about mom-shaming, but maybe from a different angle than has been expressed. But one that I have felt so much. Birth stories and postpartum recovery…
Read morethe coming of Kent.
Our fourth, sweet babe joined us February 22, 2018. Our Kent Allan McKinney had been much anticipated, for years actually. When Greg and I were married, we knew we wanted a large family. We each had one name for a child before we got married. (Greg had the name Traeh Marie, and myself Jack Landon.) Upon getting pregnant with our twins, we knew those would be the names if we had a boy and a girl. But what if we had two boys or two girls?
After many conversations, we settled on Kent Allan as a second boy name and never came up with a girl name. But I had a feeling we wouldn't need either at that point…
Read morethe season of Autumn.
When revisiting memories and seasons of life, you feel things again. Today is my precious Autumn's first birthday, and I have been reminiscing a lot about how she came to be here with me. It's not the easiest thing to relive. Though I see abundantly more of God's faithfulness, I can still feel the fear, pain, and sadness that accompanied my pregnancy with her. My pregnancy with her was of course a surprise, as seems to be the trend with babies around here. My birth control efforts cannot stop the Lord's will. It was fun and exciting to be pregnant again. I was ready for a worry-free, easy pregnancy and birth since there was only one baby this time…
Read moreMy twin pregnancy journey.
We were in no way trying to get pregnant with our now almost-3-year-old twins. In fact, if you know our conception story, it's a bit crazy and definitely TMI for blogging. I can laugh about it now, but that evening, I sat in the bathroom, knowing 100% that I had just gotten pregnant, and cried. A lot. My husband sat patiently, holding me, and prayed over me and our future. Somehow, this moment slipped my mind but exactly a week later, after having an emotional breakdown because Greg was reading his Bible instead of having breakfast with me, I remembered. After Greg left for school, I took a test and sure enough, I was pregnant.
It was a really hard time for both of us. We had only been married for 7 months. We didn't have any friends with kids yet...we were still in college. It was scary telling our parents. It was scary thinking about how we were going to afford anything, neither of us were working.
Pregnancy was physically demanding. I got sick quick. It was only a week after finding out . that I became extremely sick...only 2 weeks after conception. It was ridiculous. I actually told a couple people that there was either something wrong or that I was having twins because there was no other reason why I could be that sick. Fast forward to my first ultrasound at 8 weeks, and there they were. My two tiny babies. Twins. I was not surprised. I was actually relieved. I think God mentally prepared me for that one. But the sickness continued. There were days that I couldn't even walk because I was so weak. Greg would have to carry me around our apartment. I missed tons of classes (I was still in my last semester!). I lived off of Gatorade ice chips and saltine crackers. I lost almost 15 pounds during my first four months.
Around 26 weeks, if I remember correctly, I went into labor. After a stay in the hospital, we were able to control the contractions and I was put on bedrest. It was just one more thing to add to the situation.
Even though it was physically taxing, it was even harder emotionally and mentally. I thought I had ruined my marriage. No more alone time, no more time to invest in each other. The stress of finances and housing on our young marriage. And it was all my fault. I slipped into depression. I had always wanted to be a mom, but not this early. Not when I thought it would put my marriage at risk, not before I had a chance to pursue my own dreams.
I felt alone. I felt stress. I felt pressure. I felt like life was impossible. I would day dream about my old life...wishing I could just go back and stay in that chapter for a little while and get pregnant later on. I felt so bad for my husband. He had to take care of my physically. And our "honeymoon" phase was brought to an abrupt end. He didn't deserve that.
My husband was patient. He listened. He held my hair. He carried me. He snuggled me. He spoke words of encouragement. He did not doubt. He cooked. He cleaned. He prayed.
I vividly remember the conversation that helped me come to terms with our new situation. He said, "That reality that you dream about...not pregnant, living at our old place, when life was easy...God does not exist in that reality." He reminded me of all the blessings we would not have received had I not gotten pregnant. The miraculous provision of Greg's job at CCF-willing to work with his schedule to finish up his senior year of college. All of the relationships we made that wouldn't have been there if we moved away after graduation. Our beautiful house. The love and support shown by provision of needs for our two precious babies. And countless other things. After that conversation my guilt started to lessen and I began to feel peace.
Our birth story is great. My water broke at 3am. We got to the hospital around 4am and contractions didn't start to increase in pain until about 4:30am. I chose not to have medication, though every time a nurse came in they tried to get me to change my mind. I threw up a lot. I wanted silence...so I yelled at my mom and brother-in-law when they were talking. I had back labor and wanted Greg to massage my back with an ice pack. A nurse tried to get him to do a technique that supposedly helped with back pain, but it made it worse so I yelled at him. I only yelled those two times though, so I'm pretty proud of myself. I sat criss-cross for most of the labor, closed my eyes, and just breathed. I reminded myself of God's special purpose for me and how he had made me perfectly cable of doing it. I was ready to push but they made me wait because I wasn't at a 10. And that was stupid. I had to give birth in the OR due to possible complications with twins, it was cold and impersonal. The anesthesiologist was rude and tried to not let Greg stand by me, but Greg stood his ground. I didn't push long. Jack was born around 10:30am. Traeh had her arm above her head so my doctor attempted to get her to move it...and that was the most painful part of the whole labor. After about 15 minutes, she still hadn't moved it so we just decided to go for it. Thankfully, after breaking my water, the force moved her little hand out of the way. Her heard rate started to drop so they told me I had to push without breaks to get her out safely. She was born about 5 minutes later. They are exactly 20 minutes apart.
I look at my labor and delivery as a little gift from God after having such a hard pregnancy. I could not have asked for it to be any smoother physically. My recovery was quick and easy as well.
Now my kiddos are almost 3. Life is definitely more insane with them, but also a lot more fun. I am thankful for my whole journey with them, and very proud to be their Momma.
