As I recline in bed with my baby asleep on my chest and my toddler asleep by my side, I think to myself:
It might not always be easy, but it’s not impossible.
Wednesday, August 28, 2019
Wednesday, August 21, 2019
Quick Vegan Apple Crumble
We all know that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. So I’m always trying to improve my breakfast game. These days, it’s hard to make time for muffins or banana bread or baked oatmeal or any of my other breakfast faves. But I’ve recently stumbled onto this apple crumble that cooks in about a minute in the microwave. The most time consuming part is dicing the apple. Take that, bowl of cereal.
Dice an apple (preferably green) into your favorite oversized coffee mug. Sprinkle cinnamon and about 1 tablespoon of brown sugar over the top of the apple. Then pour 1/2-1 tablespoon of coconut oil on top of that. Stir. Microwave for a minute or until the apple is as soft as you like it. Top with granola. Enjoy your mostly healthy breakfast (or dessert, or snack) and have a great rest of your day!
Dice an apple (preferably green) into your favorite oversized coffee mug. Sprinkle cinnamon and about 1 tablespoon of brown sugar over the top of the apple. Then pour 1/2-1 tablespoon of coconut oil on top of that. Stir. Microwave for a minute or until the apple is as soft as you like it. Top with granola. Enjoy your mostly healthy breakfast (or dessert, or snack) and have a great rest of your day!
Monday, August 5, 2019
A Very Different Birth Story
A few of you may remember my birth story with Baby #1. That was a very different story than this one. But the principle that different people want (and deserve) different amounts of story remains the same. Here goes:
1. Short and sweet. For the mailman and the other people who might ask but don’t know you very well.
The baby’s great. I’m not a human incubator anymore, so I’m great.
2. The touchy-feely version. For friends and anyone who needs to be warned that plans are crap.
# 2 was way more comfortable on the inside than I wanted him to be, so the doctor agreed to induce labor at 41 weeks. I drove myself, Husband, and #1 to the hospital at the designated time after stopping for Starbucks (the cashier asked how my day was and I replied with “great! On my way to the hospital to have a baby!” Unfortunately, he didn’t respond with “wow! Your drink is on the house!” Oh well. I tried.). I checked in at the hospital with “I’m here to have a baby!” Not in labor. Casual and joking around with the L&D staff. So that was weird, and not how I’d ever expected to start the birthing process. Pitocin, contractions, blah blah blah. Husband and I had agreed that my mom would come stay with me in the evening when he took #1 home for bed (we live 45+ minutes from the hospital). The contractions started getting stronger, so I told the nurses that I wanted the epidural exactly when Husband got back around 10 (he’s my safety net when it comes to all things needles). We didn’t make it that far. I called the nurse when my water broke, asked for the epidural ASAP, and ten minutes later my body was telling me it was time. We barely made it until the doctor was in the room, let alone Husband. But #2 is great, they left the cord long so Husband could ceremoniously cut it when he got there 8 minutes later, and I’m recovering from the shock of how that all went down.
3. The gory details. You’ve been warned.
Remember the touchy-feely version? Husband and #1 left at 8:15 to go home. The contractions started getting worse shortly thereafter, and around 9:15, I asked the nurses for Fentanyl to take the edge off until Husband was back and I was ready for the epidural (have I mentioned that I really don’t do well with needles?). My water broke at 9:30 (I’m told; I didn’t check the clock). The first nurse, the one who wanted to wait for the doctor, told me to blow like I was blowing out a candle. The next nurse who got there told me I was hyperventilating and needed to cut that shit out. Then the doctor showed up and told me that if I felt like I needed to push, to go ahead and push. (You know how in movies, women in labor say they feel like they have to push? It’s true. The closest thing I can compare it to is vomiting: you feel the need building up even though you don’t want it to and your body takes over and you don’t have a choice. It’s the weirdest damn thing.) Fun fact: on the 0-10 pain scale, 9 is whimpering and 10 is primeval screaming. I’m pretty sure I scared my mom (sorry, Mom!). There is so much you don’t feel when you get the epidural. You don’t really want to feel it. Don’t wait. Get the epidural.
Well, that’s all, folks. My IVs are out. I got the all-clear from the nurse to pee without supervision. Everyone else is asleep. Thinking over this second (and final) birthing adventure was enough to kick my adrenaline back up enough for the shaking to start again, which is why I’m writing this story at 4am next to a sleeping baby instead of trying to get more than the hour of sleep I’ve gotten so far tonight.
1. Short and sweet. For the mailman and the other people who might ask but don’t know you very well.
The baby’s great. I’m not a human incubator anymore, so I’m great.
2. The touchy-feely version. For friends and anyone who needs to be warned that plans are crap.
# 2 was way more comfortable on the inside than I wanted him to be, so the doctor agreed to induce labor at 41 weeks. I drove myself, Husband, and #1 to the hospital at the designated time after stopping for Starbucks (the cashier asked how my day was and I replied with “great! On my way to the hospital to have a baby!” Unfortunately, he didn’t respond with “wow! Your drink is on the house!” Oh well. I tried.). I checked in at the hospital with “I’m here to have a baby!” Not in labor. Casual and joking around with the L&D staff. So that was weird, and not how I’d ever expected to start the birthing process. Pitocin, contractions, blah blah blah. Husband and I had agreed that my mom would come stay with me in the evening when he took #1 home for bed (we live 45+ minutes from the hospital). The contractions started getting stronger, so I told the nurses that I wanted the epidural exactly when Husband got back around 10 (he’s my safety net when it comes to all things needles). We didn’t make it that far. I called the nurse when my water broke, asked for the epidural ASAP, and ten minutes later my body was telling me it was time. We barely made it until the doctor was in the room, let alone Husband. But #2 is great, they left the cord long so Husband could ceremoniously cut it when he got there 8 minutes later, and I’m recovering from the shock of how that all went down.
3. The gory details. You’ve been warned.
Remember the touchy-feely version? Husband and #1 left at 8:15 to go home. The contractions started getting worse shortly thereafter, and around 9:15, I asked the nurses for Fentanyl to take the edge off until Husband was back and I was ready for the epidural (have I mentioned that I really don’t do well with needles?). My water broke at 9:30 (I’m told; I didn’t check the clock). The first nurse, the one who wanted to wait for the doctor, told me to blow like I was blowing out a candle. The next nurse who got there told me I was hyperventilating and needed to cut that shit out. Then the doctor showed up and told me that if I felt like I needed to push, to go ahead and push. (You know how in movies, women in labor say they feel like they have to push? It’s true. The closest thing I can compare it to is vomiting: you feel the need building up even though you don’t want it to and your body takes over and you don’t have a choice. It’s the weirdest damn thing.) Fun fact: on the 0-10 pain scale, 9 is whimpering and 10 is primeval screaming. I’m pretty sure I scared my mom (sorry, Mom!). There is so much you don’t feel when you get the epidural. You don’t really want to feel it. Don’t wait. Get the epidural.
Well, that’s all, folks. My IVs are out. I got the all-clear from the nurse to pee without supervision. Everyone else is asleep. Thinking over this second (and final) birthing adventure was enough to kick my adrenaline back up enough for the shaking to start again, which is why I’m writing this story at 4am next to a sleeping baby instead of trying to get more than the hour of sleep I’ve gotten so far tonight.
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