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    How Babies Can Affect Your Marriage [Part 1]

    Photography by Lindsey Tuscany

    I am not a marriage expert. I am not a baby expert. However, I am a wife and first time mom. 

    I have been a wife for almost three years, and together we have an 11 month old daughter. Putting those two things together has been the greatest blessing of my life. However, it has not been easy.

    Before having a baby, my husband and I had an amazing relationship. I don't want to say perfect, because I don't think any marriage or relationship is perfect. However, we were pretty damn close to perfection. And we still are! But...things are different now.

    We used to do whatever we wanted, when we wanted. If we wanted to go out and try a new restaurant, we did. If we wanted to go see a late-night movie, we did. Now, we have a bedtime to think about. We have a tiny human's well being to think about.

    Date Nights

    In the past 11 months, we have only had three date nights. My family lives 300 miles south of us, and his family lives 600 miles south of us. So, you can see where the issue lies. I do have a cousin who lives within 10 miles of us which has been amazing. But I try not to constantly bother him with babysitting gigs, even though I'm sure he doesn't mind. Yesterday we asked him to babysit, and we went out to dinner [without the baby]. It felt nice to connect with each other just like we did before we became parents. If you are wondering if we physically connected...We were in bed by 10pm. And by bed I mean asleep. Which leads me to my next point...

    Sleep Deprivation

    On top of not having the ability to go out whenever we want, sleep deprivation has been a HUGE factor in how having a baby has affected our marriage. Our daughter is breastfed, so for about 7-8 months, I was the main parent who had to get up 2-3 times in the middle of the night to feed her. My husband would help out when he had days off, but he is a police officer, so he needs to be well rested during his 12-hour shifts. Even though I insisted on getting up to feed our baby most of the time, I couldn't help but resent him. Just a little. [You would too if you were dead tired, with a baby attached to your boob, looking over and seeing your husband sleeping peacefully]. Ever heard the expression, "I don't want to sleep like a baby, I want to sleep like my husband?" No truer words have been spoken. 

    T sleeps through the night now [for the most part], but we are no less tired. This little ball of energy keeps us on our toes. Quite frankly, I am still recovering from the many months of sleep loss. No amount of coffee can make me feel wide awake.

    Part 2 coming soon. Thanks for reading!

    -Kristin, owner + creator of Free the Mother

    She was Different--I Felt it in My Bones


    It’s a diagnosis most of us know by name, but we don’t really know what it entails.

    We may think it’s someone who rocks back and forth and is kind of asocial, or maybe you have seen rain-man or what’s eating Gilbert grape and think that’s how autism looks.

    The truth is it can be all of the above, it’s a wide spectrum.

    Before my daughter received the diagnosis I didn’t know to much about it either.

    From the time Grace was born she was different. I felt it in my bones. She didn’t react like everyone said she would. She rarely cried when she was hungry, and she didn’t even like being fed most of the time. But I was a first time mom. So what did I know.

    As Grace grew older feedings became worse and worse. My whole life revolved around feeding and it was a huge stress factor.  We found a chair she liked sitting in to take her bottle and that was about it. Yes she was bottle fed, because breastfeeding was to much of a struggle and even though both, myself, my husband and our doctor, said it was the right thing to do the guilt still gnawed at me. I kept telling myself around 6-7 months we would do solids and soon struggles with feeding would be gone. But solids didn’t come naturally either and Grace wouldn’t really have any of it. She likes taking her bottle (“liked” it was still a struggle, but at least most times she would dream fed and I knew she got what she needed). Around 6 months she had a feeding study done, and it showed no physical reason for the issues.

    By 10 months she was enrolled in early intervention for feeding therapy and I had high hopes. She was also meeting most of her milestones..a little late but they were being met. I started looking at autism for some reason. I still had that weird feeling in my bones. Some of the signs were there, some weren’t. By the time my little princess turned a year I was 5 months pregnant with her little brother and starting to worry about the feeding situation. We were told “just make her.. they will eat when they are hungry” We’ll Grace did not eat, in-fact she did still not show signs of thirst or hunger. And seemed to be content not eating at all. Her therapy went okay, but it was a constant progress and regress situation back and forth.

    By the time our second was born it was clear bottle feeding was still something she needed. I managed to bottle feed to babies at once and got pretty good at it if I may say so myself. Our little boy was a good eater from day one. His love for food, showing us sign of hunger, how he progressed and kept progressing made it even more clear to me that I wasn’t just being a worried mom and that something was different with Grace. Talking and making sounds was also an area of concern as she seemed to regress with. For a while she stopped talking all together. When I brought it up with her speech therapist I was told no way she had autism. So I thought it was all in my head. By 24 months I asked our pediatrician for a referral and we got in super fast with a pediatric neurologist who fairly swift and certain diagnoses our girl with autism. At that point he also told us she might never talk. That part broke my heart.

    The autism diagnosis was honestly a relief as I had suspected it for a long time. But the mere thought that my daughter might never talk kept me up for many nights. We proceeded with trying to get her in to more therapy, that proved harder that I thought. We were met with people not believing the diagnosis and just brushing it off. Some places she was to young to get into and other places simply didn’t offer what we needed. As her younger brother started babbling suddenly so did she. And over months and months of patience, practice sign language, speech therapy etc. Grace is trying to communicate and while it’s not as advanced as someone her age, we are so proud and optimistic. We saw her neurologist for a follow up and he did mention she does have better eye contact than other children with autism, but that just means she is progressing and she is on the higher functioning part of the spectrum.

    There are many difficult parts of being an autism parent. Not being able to communicate with your child, seeing then frustration in their eyes. Seeing them struggle. The meltdowns causes by a change in routine that you couldn’t prevent, and all the little ticks and stems you have to get use to. But the hardest is hearing people say “oh she just needs to learn. She just needs to do this and that” knowing that professionals don’t grasp the struggle my little girl faces everyday and assume she is just doing it because she is misbehaving.. now that.. that’s the hardest part.

    My advice is find a dr you trust, don’t be afraid to change drs, therapist etc. it’s your child. They see them once or twice a week. They don’t know them like you do. And get parent training, we are currently enrolled in parent training and it’s providing us with tools to handle the hard times and learn to understand our daughter.

    I’m currently expecting our 3rd child, and while I know it will come with challenges I know God meant for us to have this new little one. I would say being a big sister has helped Grace progress a lot.. and I hope and pray that she can continue to progress and grow. And yes we still bottle-feed. After 2.5 years it’s not as bad :). 


    Autism has many faces, many ups and downs. Often the struggles are shared -But it’s not all struggles.. it’s beauty in seeing growth, and it’s supporting your child in new ways. It’s learning a patience I believe we can only receive from God. And it’s loving your child unconditionally the way only a parent can.


    -Lilly Clausen, @andlilly

    On Cloud 9

    The story of my son's birth wasn't originally intended to be a homebirth.  Originally, we had planned to have our son at a free standing birth center, but due to circumstances beyond our control, the midwife who owned that center decided to close it down and we were left with three choices:



    1. Continue our care with said midwife, but deliver in the hospital
    2. Find a midwife in our area willing to take us into her practice at 36 weeks gestation
    3. Stay with the other midwife from said birthing center and plan a homebirth


    We decided on the third option, since we had gotten to know this other midwife quite well and trusted her.  The way we saw it, the whole point of us planning a birthing center birth was that we wanted to have our baby outside of the hospital, but weren't sure if we would get moved into our new apartment in time for a homebirth (spoiler alert: we did).  


    It was quite the whirlwind experience, those last two weeks.  All of a sudden, we were planning a homebirth we didn't expect to have to plan for.  Fortunately, I have some amazing people in my life and was able to borrow a birthing tub for free, which really took a lot of stress off of us.  So now we waited.


    The day of our son's birth started early and unexpected.  With our older child, I gave birth at exactly 38 weeks and here I was at 38 weeks 3 days, thinking to myself, "I was spoiled with my first pregnancy. This kid is going to go past his due date."  I had no signs of labor like I had with our daughter.  No contractions, no mucus plug, nothing...until the wee hours of the morning he was born.


    I woke up at around 2:30am having some pretty intense contractions, but figured, I would just breathe through them because with my luck, I'll wake everyone up, get my midwife here, and everything will just stop because that would totally happen to me.  I let my husband sleep and just quietly breathed through my contractions, timing them.  They were about 10 minutes apart.  You would think I would've woken my husband up by now, but you'd be wrong.  When his alarm went off at 3:45am (he worked first shift), he woke to me breathing through a contraction and asked, "Am I calling in to work today?"  I said I wasn't sure.  


    He said, "Well let me know by 4:30 because that's the latest I can wait to get ready."


    I got out of bed to get in the tub, as my contractions were more intense and about 8 minutes apart now.  I called my husband into our bathroom and told him, "You are definitely not going to work today." So he called in and got our birth tub all set up in the living room, in record time, I might add.  I figured I should probably call my midwife now, so I called her and she headed our way, which was about an hour from her house.  I sat in our bathtub, pouring water over my belly, changing positions, and listening to my Celtic radio station on Pandora.  At one point I had to pee, so I sat on the toilet and even after I peed, I continued just sitting there for about 10 minutes because the design of a toilet is actually quite beneficial to the progression of labor and, man, did it feel great!


    After our tub was all set up, my husband came in and asked if I needed anything.


    "Can you go to the store and buy some grapes? I want some red grapes."

    "Are you serious? You want grapes right now? Are you going to be okay if I go?"

    "I'll be better once I have some grapes."


    So he left to go to the grocery store at 5:30am for red, seedless grapes.  Apparently, when he got there, the produce clerk was stocking the red grapes and watched my husband awkwardly grab a bag of grapes from their freshly stocked display.  On the way back home, he called me and I had several contractions during our phone call.


    "Babe, you know those were only about 3 minutes apart, right?", he said.


    Oh, I was aware.  This kid was coming fast.


    When my husband got home, I was in our living room, wearing my husband's robe, kneeling on the floor, leaning against my birth ball, just rocking my hips, and riding every contraction out, reminding myself to breathe.  He brought me some water and the grapes I requested, which were amazing, by the way.  Probably the best grapes I've ever had.  He also set up my birth affirmations that my friend made for me to remind me of all the things I was capable of.  It might seem kind of silly, but seeing those mantras written out truly helped me stay focused and centered in my birth process.


    By this point, it was about 6:00am and my midwife arrived.  She asked if my water had broken yet, which it hadn't, so she made a quick run back to her car for one more bag she left out there and my husband went with her, so she could get back into our apartment building.


    They probably hadn't even made it to the parking lot yet and my water broke.  And when I say it broke, I mean BROKE.  I literally HEARD it pop and there was a massive gush of amniotic fluid, paired with a pressure relief that one would need to experience to understand.  Shortly after, my husband and midwife walked through the door.


    "My water broke."

    "Are you sure?" my midwife asked.

    "Oh yeah. I'm sure. And honey, it kind of soaked your robe."

    "First my shoes, now my robe." my husband said.*


    *When my water broke with our daughter, it soaked his shoes.  Apparently, my aim is impeccable.


    At that point, upon my request, my midwife checked my dilation and I was already 8-9cm, so my husband helped me climb into the birth tub.  Let me tell you, if anyone is ever on the fence about whether or not to birth in a pool, try it!  I officially endorse birthing in a pool.  Wow!  I instantly became so relaxed and continued breathing through my contractions, entering an almost hypnotic state.  With contractions on top of each other, I kept reminding myself to surrender to the pain and ride it out.  Fighting it was useless and energy draining, so I allowed my body to sink into the water, deeper and deeper as I delved into each wave.  


    As transition took over, I began to lose my focus, crying out for my midwife to just "get him out!" and even biting my husband's hand as a knee jerk reaction to the pain (sorry, my love!)  But my husband, with his naturally calming demeanor and gentle tone, said in my ear, "You are strong. You can do this." 


    And you know what?  He was right.


    I repeated those words to myself and remembered just who the fuck I am!  I am a mother, a warrior, a goddamned sacred vessel of life and I can do this!


    Upon my midwife's suggestion, I reached down and felt my son's head as he was making his way to our family.  I knew he was ready and so was I.  


    I breathed through one more contraction and finally was ready to bring my son earth side.  As I pushed, I imagined my body opening up to help my son find his way and I breathed down and into the depths of myself.  With a few solid pushes, my son's head was out and my midwife had me stand up for my final push, as my son's umbilical cord had a marginal insertion, which means it was attached more to the side of my placenta rather than the center like it usually is, so she wanted to carefully guide him out.


    With one more deep breath, I pushed and felt my son enter the world at 7:40am.  All I could say was "I did it! I did it!"


    As I sunk back into the warm pool, I cradled our son, kissing him over and over, memorizing his scent and etching that experience into my memory.  We waited until the umbilical cord had stopped pulsing before clamping and cutting it.  My husband cut our son's cord, as he had with our daughter, something he describes as "trying to cut through a garden hose."  After 15 minutes (I think, really, I'm just estimating timelines), my husband held our son for some skin to skin time as I laid on our couch to deliver my placenta.  I don't really recall feeling anything.  I was preoccupied with admiring my husband become a father for the second time and riding an intense surge of oxytocin that made me feel like I was floating.  I guess that's what they mean when they say "on Cloud 9".


    After I delivered my placenta, my husband brought our son over to be nursed and he latched on instantly and camped there for a good hour or so, as my husband and midwife took the birth pool down.  We then got his measurements (8lbs 5oz; 21in) and my husband made eggs & toast for me.  After all the excitement died down, my midwife loaded my dishwasher (because she's a gem and a half) and helped me wash my son's hair, which we then covered with the very hat put on me when I was born.  Once my midwife was confident we had it from there, she congratulated us again and went home.  We all just kind of sat there, my husband, our daughter, and I, admiring our new addition and taking turns loving on him.  


    After it was all said and done, I just kept telling my husband, "I can't believe I just did that." 


    "You're so fucking metal." he said.

    -Amanda Castillo

    The Journey of a Home Birth

    When you think of a birth story, you might just think of the labor and delivery part but in the case of me and my son, Silas, getting to that part was a whole story on its own. I wouldn't be doing either of us a justice if I didn't talk about the hard work it took just to get to the contractions and the pushing and finally, the baby. For me, I had envisioned going through labor, I had thought about the logistics of birth, and I had tried to imagine how it would feel to become a mom. But not once did I think about what it would take to get there.

    Since my diagnosis of Gestational Diabetes, I had been going to a perinatologist every single week to check Baby's weight and size and to make sure that I wasn't having any complications from the GD. On Thursday, April 27th, 2017, the doctor told me that according to the ultrasound, Baby's shoulders were looking really big and was at risk for shoulder dystocia, which is when the baby's shoulders get stuck in the birth canal. It's a pretty serious thing and can cause very serious complications for mom and baby. I knew that Baby was going to be big but I wasn't prepared to be told that he was so big, he might get stuck! What she told me next was devastating - she told me that I should schedule a C-Section FOR THAT DAY!!! I left her office and as soon as I got to the lobby, I started crying. A C-Section was NOT in my birth plan. I called my midwife immediately. 

    Thank goodness for my midwife, Jocelyn. She listened to how I was feeling, she calmly told me my options, and discussed with me what would be the best route. She suggested that I go back to my perinatologist and ask if she could perform a membrane sweep, which is a procedure where the doctor would insert a finger into the opening of my cervix and gently (but firmly!) separate the amniotic sac from my cervix in an effort to induce labor. I marched right back up to the Dr's office and she was happy to do one for me. I am so thankful Jocelyn suggested getting one done because that first membrane sweep set off a series of events that were an upwards swing for not only my mood but also getting labor started. Upon doing the membrane sweep, the doctor found out that I was already 1.5cm dilated and 80% effaced! She was completely shocked at how far along I was and after the sweep, said I was now a good 3cm dilated. I was ecstatic and immediately called my midwife to figure out what to do next. 

    My midwife had already been on the phone to the perinatologist negotiating a timetable and had also spoken with the OB/GYN at the hospital. It was decided that I could go until Monday - my actual due date! - before I would need to go to the hospital to be induced or schedule a C-Section. While several days had just been bought, I was still rocked - I had gone from "Oh this is your first baby, you probably won't give birth until 41 weeks!" to "You have 4 days to go into labor." 

    I was determined to go into labor naturally. I wanted to start natural induction by doing a series of pumping sessions combined with ingesting castor oil but my midwife didn't feel I was at the point where it would be safe to do. Instead, I would continue to pump only once a day for about 20 minutes (which I'd already been doing since 37 weeks), get acupuncture designed to induce labor, do stretches to help open me up, have another membrane sweep in 2 days, and try to have a lot of positive thinking. Since I was in this to win this, I also forced myself to eat spicy food - lots of spicy food! - which if you know me, you know I don't prefer!  

    And so it began - the journey just to get to the journey! It was like I'd planned a trip and now all of a sudden I was rushing to book tickets and pack. I was overwhelmed and completely stressed out. I kept thinking about getting cut open and being in a hospital and it was soul crushing. I know some other people might have chosen to schedule that C-Section right away but for me, if that was the end result, I wanted to get there as naturally as possible. I suppose it could be seen as selfish but I felt like my body had already started working on getting Baby out and I needed to honor that.

    That same day, I got my first round of acupuncture. I stretched on the stairs and took a bath to relax. I ate spicy food and got lots of rest. On Friday, I got a second round of acupuncture where I felt intense contractions. I made my mom do acupressure on me on all the spots that are supposed to induce labor. I envisioned Baby moving down and my body opening up. Saturday finally came and I was able to get another membrane sweep which opened up my cervix to almost 4cm! My midwife felt now I was a good candidate for the castor oil and pumping method to naturally induce labor. Let's be honest for a minute - if you don't know what castor oil is or what it's supposed to do, let me enlighten you. Castor oil is a thick oil that is mostly used topically because when ingested it REALLY gets your digestive system going. If you're still confused, let me be more frank - it gives you diarrhea...a lot of it. The thought is that the contracting of all those muscles will start your uterus contracting, thus inducing labor. This sounded...well...it sounded fucking horrible. But I was determined. I hadn't come this far to give up now. Plus, I was allowed to mix the castor oil with ice cream to help it go down easier. For someone who hadn't been allowed to eat sweets for 3 months because of my Gestational Diabetes, I was *almost* excited! (PLEASE NOTE - you should not try to induce labor with castor oil without medical supervision!!!) I wasted no time and within the span of 2 hours, I'd done 2 rounds of castor oil and over an hour of pumping. I was exhausted. I still had more castor oil to ingest and more pumping to do but I was spent. I listened to my body and went to sleep...only to be woken 2 hours later to vomit up all that ice cream.

    It was about 1:30am on April 30th when I ran from my bed to the bathroom to throw up all the castor oil I'd consumed. Despite only getting 3 hours of sleep, I didn't want to go back to bed. The Hubs had only just gotten home from work a couple hours prior and I wanted him to sleep so I headed into the living room. Thank goodness my mother is a night owl because she was up and ready to sit with me. It wasn't until about an hour later that she suggested she start timing my contractions. Oh my goodness - it was happening! I had worked and prayed and sent so many good vibes to get to this point and suddenly, I was there...I was in labor. 

    Contractions started getting longer and closer together. I knew I shouldn't call my midwife, Jocelyn until contractions were 5 minutes apart and at least 1 minute long over the course of a full hour. After several contractions I would request an update from my mother. With every contraction the intensity grew but I reminded myself it was one step closer to meeting Baby. With every contraction I rose to my feet off the couch and swayed and moaned and allowed my body to open up. Upon it finishing, I would drop back down onto the couch, exhausted. The stronger the contraction, the louder I got and at some point the Hubs came to see how I was doing. To his credit, my husband is a champ. I had warned him that I probably wouldn't want much interaction once things really started going and he honored that so well. It must have been tough to see me in pain and not being able to reach out and console me but for me, knowing that he was there was enough. 

    When my contractions had finally gotten strong and long enough, we called Jocelyn. I honestly have no idea who talked to her or what was said. I just remember that we needed to call her again once contractions got stronger. Maybe it was when they were only 2 minutes apart or maybe just 1 minute, I don't remember and at that point I didn't care. It was nice to know that someone else was taking care of the logistics of timing the contractions and calling the midwife because I was so focused on myself and on Baby I never would have been able to. Looking back, I had such extreme tunnel vision on the task at hand. With every contraction, I focused on envisioning Baby moving down and sometimes I would bear down a bit and feel like I was helping Baby along. 

    At some point, I moved from the living room to the bathroom. I liked laboring on the toilet - I was by myself and the white noise of the fan going was actually comforting. It felt more normal to have a deeper contraction, a deeper pull when I was sitting on the toilet as opposed to the couch.  My mom had taken a break from tracking contractions and my dad had taken over. Despite me being in the bathroom, he could hear me all the way in the living room! Around 6am, I wanted Jocelyn to come. I didn't even know how far apart my contractions were but I knew that they were close enough. When the Hubs told me Midwife Jocelyn would be coming in an hour, my first thought was "Holy Shit, I have to do this for another whole hour?!" To be honest though, that hour passed in a blink of an eye and before I knew it, I heard a gentle knock on the bathroom door and Jocelyn's calming voice asking if she could come in. It was so nice to see her. This is the part where I'm so thankful I chose to have a midwife. I knew Jocelyn, I trusted Jocelyn, and most of all she gave me the space to labor the way my body needed to. 

    At this point, I was ready to have a baby. Going over the birth notes, it was even recorded that I wanted this baby "out"! Baby's heartbeat would slow down when I contracted on the toilet so Jocelyn suggested I try moving to the bed to see if the heart rate would go up. I didn't want to move. I would have had Baby right there on the toilet if given the opportunity but somehow I managed to make my way to the bedroom. At some point during my labor, the sun had risen and I remember thinking how bright it was in the bedroom and how everyone was going to see EVERYTHING. Then a contraction hit and I didn't care who saw what - it was Go Time. 

    I was ready to push. I asked that my parents be told to come in so they could be present for the birth. My dad is a professional photographer and before him and my mom came to visit, I had asked if he would want to be our Birth Photographer. I feel so incredibly lucky to have such amazing photos from that day (all the photos on this post are ones that he took!) and I think it'll be incredibly special to share them with my son when he gets older and tell him Grandpa took them. So in came Mom and dad with dad snapping away, capturing the whole thing. I was later told that our pup, Cornelius, faithfully stood at the door and watched the whole thing!

    Pushing felt like a bridge that kept getting longer. I had labored and pushed on my side for a bit with Hubs holding up one of my legs but I hated that position. Midwife Jocelyn suggested I lay on my back and try pushing. At this point, I felt so weak and exhausted. I would push and push and push and feel Baby moving down only to feel Baby slip back in once I stopped. Now, I know this is normal. I know that Baby comes out and slips back in then comes out a little farther the next time. But in the moment, it feels so incredibly discouraging. I was getting frustrated! My husband had been instructed to make sure I got water in between contractions and dutifully he would ask if I wanted some in between each contraction. It was around this time that when he asked if I wanted water, I shouted "I don't want any more fucking water!" Luckily, he didn't take it personally but he never asked if I wanted water again! Sometimes my pushes were so intense that my moans turned into screams. I knew I sounded unhinged but it was like I was listening to someone else.  Jocelyn kindly reminded me that I needed to stop screaming and pull all that energy into a push. I was given an oxygen mask and told to relax after each push session to allow my body to rest up for the next one. It was feeling like an uphill battle. I would push and push and push and surely Baby was almost out but when I asked someone, they would say they could just see the top of Baby's head! At one point, I asked Jocelyn if she could just pull the Baby out. She kindly said that no, she could not.

    Suddenly, Baby was crowning and it wouldn't be long before Baby would be out. From the birth notes, I know that Baby crowned only 7 minutes before the whole head came out but oh my goodness, it felt like days. The intense burning feeling made me feel like my whole vagina was about to fall off. Jocelyn would assist in helping my body stretch a bit but it felt like I was being ripped in half. The Hubs was on the bed with me, holding my head and shoulders so I could crunch down into the push because I was still on my back. I was focused on holding my legs up and in and pushing as intensely as I could muster. There were moments were I would break down and insist that I couldn't go on, I would insist that I just can't do it. Jocelyn would calmly remind that I could, that Baby wasn't far away from being in my arms. Finally, Baby's head was out. One more push - I could do it! Jocelyn told me to reach down and oh my stars, there was my Baby! I pulled Baby onto my chest and started ugly crying "My baby! My baby!" I turned towards Hubs and proudly told him "We have a baby! I did it!" 

    The insane feeling of giving birth is indescribable. But I'll try anyways! I felt so incredibly proud of myself. I had felt all the pain and continued through it. I had felt like I couldn't go on but I had. I had felt so incredibly weak but I was really so powerfully strong. Holding my baby, feeling the warmth of our bodies together clicked a switch in me and I knew I would never be the same. I was so incredibly happy, I had forgotten to ask if it was a boy or a girl! It was a boy...our little Silas had been born in our home at 9:26 am and was healthy and absolutely perfect. He weighed 8 pounds and 12 ounces and was 21 inches long. I later learned that Silas's arm had emerged first and Jocelyn helped pull it out a bit so nothing would get stuck. My mom told me that the most insane moment was after his head was out. It was turned to the side and all by himself, Silas rotated so he would be face up. Hearing that, I couldn't help but think about what Jocelyn had told me several times throughout my pregnancy - "Trust Baby." 

    Silas stayed on my chest with his umbilical cord intact until I delivered the placenta about 15 minutes later. My placenta was huge - at least a pound - and beautiful, juicy red, and healthy. The Hubs cut the cord and Silas was his own person. He had bravely emerged from his watery world to come join us Earthside. Him and I did skin to skin for about an hour or so and then it was Hubs turn to do skin to skin while I took a shower. Jocelyn examined me and decided that despite me tearing a bit, stitches weren't necessary. Then our tiny family got to relax and nap all together and Silas got to latch and start feeding before Jocelyn took Silas's height and weight. I am so grateful for that time together where we could become acquainted with each other as a family. 

    Silas's birth story wasn't at all how I had envisioned it would be. No birth playlist was played despite me making one. It was early morning despite me thinking he would be born at night. I didn't even remember to put on the bra I had specially bought just for the birth! Most of all, despite having originally planned a water birth, I never once got in the bathtub or shower. Yet, I wouldn't change it for the world. I feel so lucky that my parents were able to witness the birth of their first grandchild and despite the incredibly personal nature of the photos, I'm so happy my dad put on his photographer hat and snapped the most beautiful photos. I'm so fortunate I have a husband that supported me and never made me feel selfish or out of control despite me crying out once "Get this fucking baby out of me!" And I am so grateful to Jocelyn and her assistant, Johanna, for taking such good care of me. Their calmness and confidence anchored the birth in a way that I don't think would have been possible without them.

    -Lauren Archer, @loveofalittleone

    Check out her blog, loveofalittleone.com 

    The First Two Weeks Are The Hardest

    Breastfeeding didn’t start out how I had dreamed & hoped for... We ended up finger feeding my expressed milk for the first 2 1/2 weeks! Yes, my hubby & I almost went crazy. It was so incredibly hard!

    It’s amazing to me how shamed I felt in the hospital & the assumptions the nurses & LC “specialist” made about me as my son & I struggled to get our breastfeeding journey started. The biggest assumption being that I was going to starve my son if he wouldn’t breastfeed. (While I was hand expressing & feeding him by spoon sometimes & through a syringe with my finger acting as the “nipple”

    other times) He was getting plenty of nourishment based on his diapers & all the glucose test came back amazing!  No one was any help to me there. All they wanted me to do was use a nipple shield & move on. I refused which made them upset with me. I knew that something else was going on with my sweet baby boy & the nipple shield wasn’t going to fix it. They wouldn’t listen.

    When we finally got discharged from the hospital we went to the LC (lactation consultant) I had been working with pre-birth (a wonderful woman at the birth center I intended to give birth at but had to transfer away from during active labor due to my sons dropping heart rate) & she diagnosed my son with a potential lip & tongue tie. She recommended a pediatric dentist which we got into as soon as we could. She also said his pallet was really high. My son was 8 days old when we found out he had a third degree lip tie (out of four degrees. The fourth being the worse possible) & a posterior tongue tie. That is what had us on our difficult journey from the beginning. We had both revised that day. At 10 days old we got him to a chiropractor that specializes in children. She was able to help us with his high pallet alone with several other parts of his little body that where not in the correct place. (neck, cranials, hips) A week after the revision my son latched & we haven’t looked back since.

    I believe that chiropractic care also helped us immensely & he is still under monthly chiropractic care to maintain as he grows! If we had just done what the hospital wanted & hadn’t gotten another opinion my son & I wouldn’t have a breastfeeding relationship today just over 5 months later! He also would very likely have speech issues & eating issues as he got older based on the information I was given my our pediatric dentist. The past 4 1/2 month of exclusively breastfeeding have been the most amazing gift! 

    If your struggling in your breastfeeding journey it’s okay! Keep pressing on & find people who are great supporters & encourages. For us that made ALL the difference! ❤️️

    -Emily Smart, @guidedlight_motherhood