pregnancy journey.

For years now I’ve tried to figure out how to tell this story. The journey for us to have a 2nd child. I knew that I was going to tell it one day, but I suppose I was waiting. Waiting for happier times, most likely. Desperately hoping that the story would have a happy ending. 

It was no secret. I loved being pregnant with Violet. Within 7 days of her being born I was wondering when we’d have our next kid. I wanted to experience the whole magical thing again. And ASAP. I missed being pregnant. I missed the big belly, feeling her move around, fantasizing about what amazing parents Erik and I were going to be because we were so in love.  

When she was born I fell in love with her, but I was suffering from an overwhelming anxiety and inexplicable need to control everything. Life wasn’t as easy anymore and I struggled. I remember, 8 months pregnant at one of our appointments, our Dr. telling us that the first year of life with a newborn was going to be the hardest year of our relationship. Erik and I looked at each other and basically laughed in her face. Pshhhhhh, not us, we thought. Foolishness!  

Wellllllll, she waaaas right.. but despite that I was pushing for another baby. I can’t remember the first time I mentioned it to Erik but I know he certainly wasn’t as inspired as I was. I persisted. He started sort of coming around. (!) And when Violet was 10 months old I peed on a stick and I couldn’t believe it - 2 glorious, pink lines! I was so excited. I could not wait to do it all again. I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle it all. Violet was still a baby and just starting to really show us who she was and we were a month away from moving across the country from Montreal to Vancouver, where Erik was going to have to start looking for a new job, but it didn’t matter. This was the universe’s plan and I was full of hope and life. I gave in to the cravings (I remember in particular swedish berries and scones) , bought new maternity clothes, hoarded away stuff that Violet was outgrowing and feeling quite confident enough that we made healthy babies to tell all of our family at Violet’s first birthday party that we were expecting another.  

A few weeks later, the day before Halloween we had our 12 week ultrasound. The bad news began almost the second he put the wand on my abdomen. The heart had a strange marker. He would have to keep an eye on that. The nuchal fold was very thick. My blood levels were all off. I remember with each new discovery he made he kept saying “I’m so sorry” and I was in shock and just utter disbelief that this was even happening. With my healthy little girl bouncing around the room, we discovered that our 2nd baby had a chromosomal abnormality. Not only that but my placenta was not functioning the way it was meant to. The geneticist we met with informed us that this would likely end in a pregnancy loss. A few days later we did diagnostic testing (a cvs, where they insert a needle and take a small sample of cells out of the placenta) while I prayed for a miracle. They called to confirm my worst fears. That we had a terrible decision to make. And that it was a boy.  

We drove to the ferry that day thinking we were going to be sharing our ultrasound photos with our family, but I left that appointment without any photos at all. We spent 5 weeks trying to figure out what in the world we were possibly going to do. We went back and forth endlessly but ultimately we made the agonizing decision to not continue the pregnancy. 

The aftermath wasn’t pretty. I cried, sobbed every day for a least 6 months. I was in a new city, supposed to be enjoying discovering this new place with my family and instead I was shrouded in fear and heartbreak. It was strange too because while I was utterly devastated by this loss, I had Violet by my side for almost every minute of it and she brought so much joy and relief. I had never really experienced that before. Simultaneous joy and deep pain. I know well now, kids are really good at that!

I essentially became mentally obsessed after that with having a child, but Erik, again, wasn’t so sure. We talked endlessly. I felt like the only thing that would fix this, would be to try again and he just wanted to take some time to be the 3 of us. So we did. For 2016 and 2017, we lived. We figured out how to be a family of 3. Things had gotten pretty dark in the midst of the loss and I wasn’t coping well. I saw that I had to start making some changes. I decided I needed to stop drinking. It had once been my very good friend, but it wasn’t working anymore. I also sought out counselling. Not a day went by I didn’t think about getting pregnant again.  

Life was peaceful and we were on a good path. I just didn’t feel done with having babies. We talked in many occasions (too many, as Erik would probably say) and finally decided ok, starting May 2018, let’s try and see what happens.  

A month before May 2018, I surprisingly found out I was pregnant. We were going to have a December baby. I was cautious and looking back I ignored what was going on in my body. I didn’t have many symptoms. My tests weren’t showing the accurate number of weeks I was and 1 day before my 8 week ultrasound I started bleeding. I went to the hospital, where the dr. did an ultrasound and then after in the middle of the waiting room surrounded by dozens of people proceeded to tell me in a normal volume that “there was nothing in my uterus and did I have any questions?” I went home and cried in Erik’s arms. He was surprised as he thought this one was going to work out. I passed the baby later that night.  

I told myself I was going to take 3 months to let my body heal and then we were going to try again. I got some gum surgery done, I followed my naturopaths guidance to a tee, I ate healthy and organically, I exercised, I started temping my basal body temp and doing opks, I was willing to do whatever it takes to make this happen.  

August 2018 - another positive pregnancy test. About 5 days later I started bleeding. 

February 2019 - yet another positive pregnancy test, got my hcg tested - that measures the hormone in the blood and it was low. I sat in the bad feeling of that for two days until I could go do repeat bloodwork to see if the level had doubled like it was supposed to and it had not. It had gone down. I started bleeding a few days later again. 

So at this point, I’d had 5 pregnancies and only 1 baby.  

I was really starting to feel like maybe this wasn’t going to happen. 

My obstetrician sent me to the fertility clinic.  Erik and I did every test possible and on the morning of my 40th birthday we met with the fertility specialist.  She said that we were perfectly healthy.  I'm a little too fertile and my body tries to hold on to the bad eggs as well as the good ones.  She said she believed it was going to happen for us but that if it didn't, to come back in 6 months and we could move forward with some treatments.

A few days later we conceived again for the 6th time.   

I still have moments where I feel like, is this actually going to happen? I think that’s just how it is when you’ve experienced that much loss. 

What have I learned from this?
I learned that I had to talk about it. I never could on social media, but by the time we had the third miscarriage, I’d see my friends on the street and they’d say how are you? and I’d say I’m having a miscarriage. I just couldn’t be alone in it anymore. The more I talked about it the more people shared with me their stories of loss and there are so many. And as mothers we feel these losses so deeply.  

I also learned from our 2nd angel baby that I had to take care of myself. I had to learn to be ok with whatever life threw at me. I spent a long time coping with my feelings by having wine at night and like I mentioned before, it stopped working altogether. Sometimes I do miss a glass of wine in the evening but I’ve gained something that I never want to live without again. I’ve learned how to really feel and really be ok with whatever it is that comes my way in life.  

To a certain extent I’ve had to learn to let go of outcomes. I can do what I can do, but ultimately the rest is out of my hands. I’ve learned to trust fully that what is meant to be will be and I am applying that knowledge to all sorts of situations in my life.  

It's a difficult story to tell because it's so personal. But this is what it means to be human.  The experience of pain and loss, joy and growth is what life is.  Life is partly the beautiful, crazy world we show on instagram but it's also the messy, difficult life that happens in our living rooms.  It's our job to share our stories if we want to truly connect.  And I want other women (and men) who go through pregnancy loss to know that they aren't alone.  It's still not something that many people want to talk about, but it's happening literally all the time. Many of us share that experience and we can carry each other through them.  I was carried through mine. 

I'm still scared but I know that no matter what happens in my life, that there is something to learn and some way to grow.  I am here for those of you who may be going through this.  If nothing else, I will listen and sit with you, while you feel the feelings that are sometimes too scary to feel alone. 

xo

Dear Violet

Dear Violet,

You are one year old! I don't know when that happened, but it's true, so for your first birthday I've written you this little letter.   I'm writing it while you take your morning nap in your crib. This has probably only happened 7 times in the last year.  Usually I nap in the bed beside you, but I'm not actually all that tired today, so this is a test and I hope that you pass.

Suddenly in the last month or two, you've become a person with a sense of humor, who knows how to make us laugh.  You do this by clapping at Dr. Phil's jokes or when everyone on Family Feud starts clapping, you clap along as well and you point at Everything asking "That?" We always tell you what it is that you find so interesting. Even if you've asked 35 times already.  Your Dad and I find it endlessly cute that you've now taken to pronouncing "That?!" with a lady's Southern belle drawl.  Thaaiiaat? Yup. cute explosion.  Now your Dad and I even go around saying "Thaaaiiat." We're hooked.

You are a bit of an early walker and even though it means you already have two little chips in your teeth, we're very happy that we no longer have to carry you from room to room. That reminds me, I have an appointment with the chiropractor on Wednesday.

You play hide and seek and you love it when we chase you.  You give kisses and hugs.  You hug the cat so tightly that her eyes bug out, but she lets you do it, and even purrs. 

You love salmon with garlic and onions, peas, watermelon and oranges.

You are constantly picking old crumbs up off the floor and eating them. This makes me crazy.  I try to poke around in your mouth to fish out old, fallen peas, but you won't open up.  If you do open up, you then proceed to chomp on my finger with a variety of your 8 teeth.  For some reason, I'm guessing just to torture me, you've now started to pick up fake, invisible crumbs and wait until I'm watching and then you put the fake, invisible crumb in your mouth.  This seems unreasonable.

You love when you discover that the door to the land of the bathtub, cat food, cat litter and endless bottles filled with goo is open. You make a beeline for that magical room, but I or your dada always beat you to it and when we close the door you cry and cry as though unicorns have died.  We distract you by opening the fridge door (also magical!) and then you are ok.

I slammed the bedroom door into your head the other day when I was on the phone with Clearblue.  I also had Hydro Quebec on the other line.  I ran into the hallway to grab a receipt out of my bag and then when I pushed the bedroom door open, lo and behold, you were right behind it.  You fell to your bum and cried like I'd never heard you cry. I whimpered "Oh my God!" dropped the phone and picked you up and held you close while a big red line developed on your forehead.  It reminded me that I should probably slow down a bit.  That even though things are hectic and chaotic I don’t need to be getting all frantic and opening doors on my sweet child’s forehead.  Lesson learned. 

You like toys, you really do,  but mostly you like remote controls (or as Daddy calls it "the magic stick that makes the people in the box come to life"), cell phones, anything in the fridge (oooo! Glass jars!), mail, garbage, shampoo bottles, dirty laundry, the cup of water on my nightstand (tipped over 3 times and counting), kindles and dirty shoes best.  You've touched those dirty shoes so many times, I don't even think to wash your hands after anymore.  Just building up that immunity, right?

Today someone came to take our car away because we are moving to Vancouver in two weeks and we want it to be there when we arrive.  I opened my computer for 1 minute to go on their website when I looked around at you.  You were flinging around the sopping wet morning diaper that I had just taken off of you.  You were literally swinging and circling it around your head as though it were a lasso.  My jaw dropped and I shouted "no, Violet" and you held out your hands and shrugged, looked at me like "what? YOU left it right here.  This is on you, mama."

Something that I wasn’t expecting is that already, at 1 year old, you are the most hilarious person I know.  There are some people, like me, who really enjoy being funny and try so very hard to be funny, and there are others who are just funny.  You’re like that. Not even trying, but always winning at humor.   You seem to know how hilarious and silly it is that when the song for the weather report during the news comes on, you start dancing.  You look at us with a huge grin and bop and bop.

You go to bed at 8 and you come into our bed whenever you cry out for us, which can be anywhere from 12-3am.  I nurse you and you fall back asleep quickly. This can happen anywhere from 1-3 times a night until you wake up for the morning around 6:30am. We really like sharing our bed with you and especially like seeing your smiling face first thing in the morning.  We're not sure how long this will go on for, but for now, we are all happy with the arrangement.

I'm still nursing you 5-6 times a day total and two weeks ago started introducing organic whole milk. You thought it was water, but when you realized it wasn't you let it all dribble out down your chin, abandoned the bottle and came straight for the tap. I'm clearly going to be breastfeeding you Forever. It's going to get embarrassing at some point when you're 12 or 13.

You don't say many words, but you know what many things are. If I ask where your chair is you point to it.  You also know flower, trees, dog, cat, ball, blankie, bunny, teddy bear, bath, eat, water, nose, head, hand, foot, hair, duck, hug and kiss.  This is all very exciting to me.

I looked at you this morning and realized I am the happiest I've ever been in my life.   Motherhood is no joke,  it has change me.  Sometimes I still miss my wild self.   Heck, sometimes I just miss playing candy crush on the toilet, but I had years and years of that and I wouldn't go back.   I wake up happy and I go to bed grateful because of you, Violet.  Thank you for choosing me as your Mama.  I hope to do my very best for the rest of my life to teach you all the things that I believe to be important: Kindness, gentleness, patience, joyfulness, courage and how to laugh and laugh and laugh. Thanks for being the squishiest, little love. I am the luckiest person who gets to be with you every day. Love you Forever. 

9 months of Violet

I really can't believe my little girl is 9 months old.  That's as long as the time she spent growing in my tummy and That felt like an eternity, but this, her infancy, is passing in the blink of an eye.  Suddenly I have a baby who is truly no longer a newborn.  I, also, have changed and (I'd like to think) grown so much in such a short amount of time.

I've been trying to write this blog post for about 5 months now.  Ever since the last update.  I wanted this to be a monthly thing.  I guess I don't consider the blog sensible work, even though I get a tremendous amount of joy from working on it.  It's just that now, in my life, there is a box labeled "Things that must get done or Tasha is going to go cuckoo" and update the blog isn't in that box, so it gets pushed aside.  Honestly, the only reason I am able to write these words is because Erik is currently napping with Violet. I might have 30 more seconds or 30 more minutes. One never knows with a baby. hurry. type! type! ( Believe it or not, it's next to impossible to get anything accomplished on a laptop when you have a gremlin tugging at your pant legs.)

Violet is, as you could probably imagine, the light of my life.  She's an active little thing and sooo mobile for a 9 month old.  I feel like it was so long ago now that I was trying to keep her from doing face plants every time she pulled up on a piece of furniture (which is one of her favorite things ever). Now she's cruising along furniture as though she's a professional furniture driver.  Been doing it all her life.  Making stops on occasion to eat the cat, or fondle an electrical outlet.  Maybe try to pick up a tiny rock to ingest, or pick the lock on the safe to find the lifetime supply of baby wipes, which she, for some reason, loves to eat. The other day for the very first time she stood by herself for 5 seconds and then a couple of days after that we were playing in the grass (which she isn't a fan of) and she had juuuust enough displeasure with it that she stood up from a crouch position on her own. It felt like she was performing magic. It just can't be real, can it? Who's holding the strings??  And then yesterday, another first:  clapping! and since yesterday she's clapped about eight hundred times. I feel like baby animals burst out of my heart every time she claps.

What else? She has 8 teeth, still nurses around 5-7 times a day and is starting to enjoy food morsels more and more, but she doesn't like being fed baby food with a spoon. She wants bits of real food and she wants to feed herself.  Let's see, she's been on 4 airplane trips in 9 months, has touched the Pacific and Atlantic oceans and still loves sleeping in bed with us.  We put her down in her crib at night between 7 and 7:30 and she'll sleep on her own until the witching hours but ultimately cries out for us, and since we share a room with her anyways, end up bringing her into our bed.  Yes, it's an easier way to get more sleep, but Erik and I also genuinely love the snuggles.

She's also really beginning to be a little chatter-head now.  It's like consonant discovery land up in here.  baba, dada, yaya, kaka and a teensy bit of mama.  I love her obscure, native language. It may sound dull to you, but it's the most incredible thing watching her discover her voice.

Listen, maybe you're reading this and you don't have kids and you think, ugh,  boring!  and I'm telling you, if or when you have a baby, you will get it.  I'm guilty of thinking kids (aside from my nieces) were pretty boring most of the time, but when it's Yours and you get to watch them learn and grow... That, to me, is one of the very best experiences of my life. I feel I could do it again and again. (maybe).

But I don't know, IS this boring to y'all?  I honestly don't have the perspective to tell.  When I was pregnant I devoured reading stuff like this. I still do (in my 30 seconds of free time).  I know it's crazy but I walk around and count how many pregnant ladies i see.  (13 this afternoon!) They are sooooo beautiful and I feel so envious of them.  For one, because pregnancy is such a beautiful, mysterious, magical experience, and people treat you maybe a bit nicer than they used to and holy crap you have a tiny, invisible being that you created with someone else growing inside of you and 2, because about-to-be first time mothers are so innocent. Because they have NO idea how hard their lives are about to become.  At least I didn't know. I mean, I knew, but I couldn't know. It's a motherhood secret.  You can't know it till you're in it, so why bother explaining.  If someone says it isn't hard, I'm suspicious.  One of my favorite bloggers recently wrote a list of 10 things she learned in the first year of her child's life and number 10 was that motherhood is easier than she expected.  Her husband is on the road 6 months out of 12 and she works a full time job from home while raising her baby. I thought I loved her. Now, I'm just suspicious of her. I think I'll unsubscribe.

I had but the teeny tiniest idea of what being a parent was actually, truly going to be like and honestly it has been Verrry different than I expected.  Sure, I knew I was going to be tired, and yeah, I knew I was going to worry,  but I didn't know hoooooow  tired and how worried and how all consumingALLLLLLCONSUMINGallconsuming parenthood would be.    I know it's not something you're supposed to say but for a few months there, the pretty tough winter months, I really felt nostalgic for the leisures and freedoms of my pre-baby life.   I love Violet to the most distant galaxy and back and I would do it exactly the same in a heartbeat, but If I could, I would send a whisper to my childless self and say "Getting shit accomplished is so easy right now, so go and get your shit accomplished."  I'm sorry for swearing.  I don't like to swear, but it's true.  The great irony (and I mean true irony, not like that Alanis Morrisette song 'Isn't it ironic', whose chorus lyrics aren't actually ironic at all, but just unfortunate) is that I get so much more done now that I have so much less time.  How does that saying go?  "If you want something done, ask a busy person" ? Well it's true.  No, I'm not writing a book or producing a movie or really even leaving the house more than once a day, but I get an insane amount of sensible work done.  Much more than my lazy self ever did before this little love-cub came along.

And yet now, sometimes, and often, I feel like I'm ready to really start thinking about a little brother or sister for Violet but other times I feel like I couldn't possibly manage it all.  It's still a very confusing concept in my head and I haven't quite sorted out why I want another baby so badly so soon-ly.  Maybe I'm just a bit nuts.   I can't quite figure out why I want to do the hardest thing I've ever done in my life, again, and with a toddler in tow.  I wish I had an answer for you. Actually I wish I had an answer for myself and I can say I honestly think about this every single day, and I have since Violet was born.  Yup. I think maybe I'm just nuts.  I know it's going to come down to what is meant to be, that's how it was with Violet, and that's how my whole life has been, so I'm not sure why I want to "reason" this one out.  Maybe I just won't.  Speaking words of wisdom: Let it Be.

Thanks for making it this far! You win a hundred points.

Three-quarters of a year into my motherhood journey and I still have no idea what I'm doing most of the time, but I am becoming more confident in the type of mother I want to be, (and am), and It is truly getting easier and more enjoyable every single day.  Violet is my best little friend and the fact that I (God-willing, please, please, please!) get to spend the rest of my lifetime with her and her Daddy makes me feel like one of my purposes in life is being fulfilled.

It's not perfect, nothing ever is, but it is real and thought-provoking and fills me up with a joy I've never known and takes me deeper into the best and maybe more importantly, worst parts of my heart, than ever before. I see more clearly than I ever have, and I love her more than she will ever know.

Love to you,
tasha

Baby Violet: The Fourth Month

Baby Violet turned 4 months old last Sunday. That's one-third of a year! Wowza. How is it that even though every day feels 80 hours long, 4 months have flown by in a heartbeat? I feel like Erik and I are constantly saying to each other "She's getting so big!"  And even though we are so excited whenever she learns a new skill, we kind of want her to stay all itty bitty.  Violet is a completely different person than she was a few months ago. I know this because the second she goes to bed at night I get on my computer and stare at all the photos and videos I have of her. (Clearly, I can't get enough). But, yeah, she's really grown from a suckling baby blob into a little infant who sits and rolls and plays fetch.  (wait. no not that last one.)

In my last couple of posts I wrote about Violet's First Two and a Half Months and Erik shared his version of her birth story and it's so cool to look back and see how much has changed and how much she's grown since then.

Lately she spends the majority of her waking hours either sucking on her (or our) hands or trying to put any and every toy in her mouth.  She wants to be sitting up constantly but can't quite balance on her own yet.  Tummy time on her play mat is a pretty big hit and I can usually leave her down there long enough to make a cup of coffee, or have a pee, which is pretty exciting for everyone.

She's constantly cooing and babbling now.  In the early morning hours (like 5am early) she lays in the middle of the bed with us and looks at my face and scratches my eyeballs with her fingernails and just coos and mmmms and ahhhs, just letting me know that If I feel like playing, she's good to go on that.  I usually just try to 'play asleep' with my eyes open just enough to see her, but she thinks they are closed. She'll stare and babble and then eventually copy me and close her eyes and fall back asleep. I feel proud of myself and my motherhood skillz in moments like these.

She's losing a lot of her hair and it has turned from dark brown to golden red.  Her eyes are the most deep chocolatey brown.  (As an aside, I thought all babies were born with blue eyes and when she came out her eyes were black. Right after she was born I kept asking the nurses and my doula if she could see. Is my baby blind? Are her eyes supposed to be black?!)

The absolute best part of this last month has been hearing Violet's laugh for the first time. It's like hearing a hundred angels singing.  I had to work incredibly harder for it.  Probably harder than I've worked at most of my jobs.  I make ridiculous faces at her and sing the most hyper, bizarre songs (think of the middle section of Bohemian Rhapsody with the following lyrics "there's a poopy in your diaper, I can smell it, let's check it out! Oh my goodness, why is it green?! Let's clean this up, Bob!")

Anyway, point is, I made my baby laugh and I will try a million more times over the next 60 years because there is no sweeter sound.

I've been breastfeeding for 4 months straight now and it's crazy to think that that's all a baby needs to grow. She's almost 14 lbs now (she was 8 lbs at birth), and around the 50th percentile in weight.  It's been an intense breastfeeding journey, and I've loved it even though it's been super hard at times.  I can't believe in less than 2 months she'll get to have her first taste of real food.  I'm thinking it'll be avocado.  I ate my first avocado when I was 21 years old and missed out on so many good years I could have shared with avocado. I don't want to do Violet that injustice.

Anyhow, I know a million jillion people have had babies before me and this might be a boring topic to some, but, to me, it is the most fascinating and rewarding thing I've ever experienced so far.  So thanks for sticking it out with me and humouring my gaga-over-baby-ness.   Her and Erik are honestly the best things that have ever happened to me and I am so grateful to get to share every day with them.  Enjoy winter, y'all and see you next month.

Violet's Birth Story, Written by Erik Virtanen (Father)

Well, my experience of the night began exactly how it looks in the movies. After I got home from ball hockey, Tasha said it might be time to go to the hospital. I could tell it definitely was time. I’m not sure why. But it clicked in my brain that I needed to get this woman to the hospital ASAP. 

I ran around the house putting together the stuff on my list of things to do at hospital time (like what to put in my bag, things we needed to remember like phone chargers, etc). That list was my lifeline. If it wasn’t on the list, it did not exist. 

I started running things out to the car as fast as I could. Tasha could barely walk, so she slowly stepped there. And then I drove - it was the most stressful drive of my life. Tasha was having crazy pain and yelling, I was trying to speed through all the yellow lights. We put on some music - there was Nick Cave piano music - and it calmed things down slightly. 

I pulled into the hospital and told the security guy I needed to bring my wife upstairs. He probably saw the determination in my eyes because he was just like, “Yeah, yeah, man, leave your car, do it.” 

So we got Tasha to the birthing area and things sort of slowed down. The nurses were calm and great, so I went and parked the car and got the bags while they got Tasha settled. Luckily I found an awesome parking spot a few blocks away. I ran back and Tasha was with our nurse in the room.

I won’t go into details about the night, but it was really great. One of my favourite things about the entire pregnancy/birth experience was spending this night with Tasha. The nice blonde nurse showed me how to massage her back properly, and I did that when she had a contraction. Unless the nurse was there, then she was take over to give my hands a break. But the whole night was basically just me and Tasha together, helping her get through it together. We hired a doula, but we didn’t call her until the last moments because we were enjoying it just as the two of us. Tasha’s strength really impressed me. She was like a superwoman. 

I also felt like I became the blood-master that night. I cleaned up blood and random liquids like a pro. 

There was also an intern nurse who came in sometimes throughout the night, and asked us questions on her practice sheet to train how to interact with patients. She has a long way to go before anyone should be trusted with her. She seemed extremely uncomfortable with all the pregnancy stuff. At one point her main job was to close the blinds on the window. She struggled with that. I offered the advice that she needed to pull the string at an angle and then the blinds would fall, but she didn’t listen and it was entertaining to watch. When she finally got the blinds down, I could see that she felt as though she had achieved something good.

Eventually, the doctor broke the rest of Tasha’s water to help move things along and her labour pains got much more severe after that. There was one point where Tasha was sitting on the side of the bed in a trance like state, asking God to help her. 

It was around then that we called the doula. Having her coming was an added comfort as Tasha’s pain intensified. The sun started coming up and more nurses soon came in. It kind of became this whole ‘sisterly’ experience among Tasha, the doula, and all the female nurses and female doctor. Like they all knew what they were doing and I just kind of watched and stood by Tasha, holding her hand and such. 

She started pushing and soon I saw a tuft of hair sticking out of her vagina. It was really bizarre to see. The tuft stayed there poking out for a long time as she pushed, and then soon out came the top of the head. It was weirdly shaped like the pointy top of a triangle. It just stayed there poking out too for a while - this triangular head point with a tuft of hair on it. After a little while, Tasha pushed the whole baby out - the rest of her came out basically in one quick moment. She had greyish skin. Now the memories become blurred. I cut the cord after waiting a minute or so and then I stood with Tasha as we looked at our new human in her arms. It was strange because the baby didn’t really feel like it was what was in her stomach. She didn’t look like how we imagined and there was something a little surreal to it all. 

We were put in a hospital room and it felt like we were instantly parents and had to start caring for this human right now! We were given tons of information on caring for a newborn, some conflicting, by various nurses. I tried to take a lot of pictures. It kind of became my thing for the first few hours. I was picture man. 

I more focused on tasks and doing things for Tasha, rather than say gazing lovingly into the baby’s eyes for hours on end. I did get a few minutes here and there to stare at her and think how crazy this all was and how cute she was. Though she still felt a bit “other” to me. Like I didn’t really know her yet. But I had a duty to care for her. 

So much happened over those days in the hospital, a whirlwind, it’s hard to write it all. I remember it took us a few hours to definitely say the baby’s name was Violet. Did she look a Violet or not? We felt yes. We had Violet in this plastic crib thing that was angled up. I had to wheel her into the nursery at one point. I saw a few other newborn babies there. They looked weird - like one baby had the face of an East Indian man, and there were twins who looked slightly creepy - but Violet looked really cute. 

Tasha and I were quite nervous, we didn’t know what we had gotten ourselves into. Tasha started the whole breastfeeding process, which was stressful. I went out and got us meals, mostly from Tim Hortons and Subway, and texted pictures to family. We changed to a different room after a while. It was a double room but there was no one else in it. The nights were really weird for “sleeping” (note the quotes). Tasha didn’t sleep for a few days I think. It was now us and Violet. Mostly at first it was really Tasha and Violet, and Erik was there to do random things like turn lights off or get water or spoon food into Tasha’s mouth. We were moved to a nice private room after that. Tasha was beginning to get the hang of breastfeeding and we were soon deemed ready to leave. I got all the registration papers from the downstairs office and we packed up and drove off. 

This was now the most stressful drive of my life. I wanted to get home quick. But of course Mont Royal was jammed with traffic all up the mountain for some reason. So we drove halfway and then I turned around and drove back a different route. So it was kind of like making the most stressful drive of my life twice. 

Eventually we got home safe and Grace was there to greet us. We realized then that we were now left to our own devices to nervously embark on this new adventure with Violet.  

Baby Violet: The First Two and a Half Months

It feels so wild to say this, but it's been 2 months since this little mini-us came into our lives.    Before you have your baby everyone tells you that it goes by so fast and maybe you nod in agreement, but really, y'all, it goes by so freaking fast! It feels like just yesterday I was pregnant and waddling the streets, eating popsicles and pineapple like they were going out of style.  But it's been 61 days since we met Violet and  I can't believe how much she has changed already in such a short amount of time.

When we brought her home we were in mega survival mode, just trying to get a few winks when we could.  Honestly, the first 4 days of her life I slept about 2 hours IN TOTAL, so you can imagine what a tearful freak show I was.   Erik was able to get maybe 5 or 6 hours a night those first few days, so imagine the insanity I felt when halfway through the day he would yawn and say 'man, I'm tired!'

I can laugh about that now.  Only because as I type this my baby is sleeping peacefully in the pack n' play just around the corner from me.  Our soundtrack: The "womb" sound from my white noise app.  Her favorite used to be the Hairdryer sound, which Erik says sounds like a horror movie, but this womb sound is a new favorite! She's been sleeping 35 minutes straight.

So, anyway, The first few weeks were the hardest weeks of my life.  I was not at all prepared for how hard and exhausting it is taking care of a newborn. But they were some of the most magical weeks of my life, as well.    Getting to know Violet, just staring at her face and soaking up all those expressions was fascinating.  I could barely look away.   Also, just getting to know all her little noises has been really fun.  We've nicknamed her most frequent sounds (in case you're interested) the following:  The pterodactyl, the walking dead, the snarl or more specifically Bob Snarley, huffy piggy, throat whistle and poo grunt.  Those are just the faves.

Before she was born I spent months researching where violet was going to sleep.  Bassinets were a daily obsession.  I convinced Erik we should get this one expensive, luxurious bassinet, because it was the best.  So we did.  We got that bassinet.  And in 2 months Violet has spent a total of 6.3 hours in that bed.  She hated it so much when she was first born that she let us know just how much by puking all over it.  numerous times.  We joke now that it is the fanciest laundry basket we've ever owned.  It still sits by the bed, all lonely at night, just waiting for a cuddle.  I think we've got another month or two before she outgrows it so maybe there's still hope.  Thing #1 I've learned since having a baby: Quality and quantity a baby cares not about.

The first few weeks Violet slept wherever we were Able to get her to sleep which was usually on one of our chests.  I slept sitting up on the couch night after night, or with her in my arms in bed as I reclined against 14 pillows.  I was terrified I would never sleep again.  One night Erik told me to go to bed for a nap and I did.  I slept alone in bed from 10pm-4am while he hung out with violet in the living room.  It was the most satisfying feeling ever, and for a while it became our thing.  I zombie-walked to bed at 10, put in earplugs and Erik stayed up with violet till 4am.  Sometimes he even let me sleep till 5am, which was incredible.  I felt like a million bucks.  This lasted between weeks 4 and 6 of her life.  At 6 weeks we started a sleep routine with her.  It was a silly idea I had. We gave her a bath, sang her a song (which she loved and just stared at erik's face the whole time), and fed her and I think on the first try she slept through the night.  Like 11pm-8am with only a couple of dreamy milk snacks in between.   A miracle! So that was the end of Erik staying up with violet till 4am.  I think he kind of misses it.

So now we're a lot more rested and we have a lot of fun during the day.  Violet is becoming more and more smiley.   When she wakes up in the morning and sees our faces looking down at her, she lights up like a christmas tree,  and oh man, it's the best feeling in the world.  The joy in her eyes brings a tear of sheer gratitude to mine.  She's also discovered that she has a hand.  So she stares at it a lot.  sucks on it.  bats at dangling toys.  When she discovers that she actually has 2 of them, I think she'll be even more excited.   She loves reading books, especially this super colorful one called the Chameleon, but erik doesn't like it, because it's a book about conforming.  She actually rolled over the other day from tummy to back.  4 times in a row.  She hasn't done it since, but I was impressed!

Alas, It's not all sparkles and milk dust... It's exhausting. Even though violet sleeps so well at night, she barely sleeps during the day. She wants to be held all the time, which is hard when you have a full time job. Also it's winter in Montreal and so hard to get a baby outside.  I haven't figured out how to dress her in minus 20 degree weather yet.   I miss cooking.   We eat more chicken nugget salads than I'm proud  to admit.   I also really really miss cheese, my favourite food group.  Violet's tummy really doesn't like cow's milk but I'm getting used to black coffee.

Sigh.  Being a mother is crazy y'all.  I can't believe how many women have done it before me. I think every single one of them is amazing.  I never noticed families and babies before.. now it's all I see.  It hasn't been an easy adjustment at all,  Erik and I have so much less time, and we both work full time jobs from home, not to mention we are trying to finish up an album, but I can't imagine our life without Violet.  She is so gentle and easygoing and I know she gets that from her Dad, whom I adore with all my heart.  I love my little family more than anything in the entire world.

Violet's Birth Story

Today Violet turns 1 month and 1 day old!  Since the moment I had her (and even before) I knew I wanted to remember and write her birth story as soon as possible after she was born.  In the days following her birth, in my spare time between learning how to take care of a tiny new baby (oh my God!) I made notes in my phone of things I desperately wanted to remember about her birth.

It's crazy how much I've already forgotten.  Was I really pregnant? Was she truly inside of me squirming and growing for 9 months?  What did it feel like to have her in there?  I remember exactly what it felt like, but have completely forgotten at the same time.  Why does this happen?  Nature's way of trying to get us to procreate again?  It's such an incredible, all-encompassing feeling, why would you not want to do it over and over? I'm pretty much ready to have at least 20 more babies... (maybe don't tell Erik just yet, though).

I think I should back up a bit to where my last blog post left off...

So, Around the 38 week mark of my pregnancy I started to get very antsy for the baby to come.  I was so tired of the questions in my head:  What will my labor feel like?  Will she get here safely? Is she healthy? Is she really a she?  What will she look like?  Who is this being inside of me?!  As the weeks progressed and I got bigger I knew she was getting bigger too.  7lbs my doctor told me.  Then the next week...8 lbs....Ay!  I was so sure she was going to come early this whole time... then there we were approaching the 40 week mark with no labor in sight. I thought to myself "There's no way she's going to fit into those super cute newborn clothes now," and felt disappointed.  I hate admitting that.  That's why I'm admitting it.  

The last 2 weeks of my pregnancy were spent by me trying to induce our baby naturally. I was so afraid of having a scheduled induction.  I've heard so many things about how it's much more painful than going into labor naturally and I desperately wanted to have the experience and excitement of not knowing when labor was going to start.  

About 4 days before my due date at 4pm I went to see my acupuncturist.  Her name is Xiangping and she is from China and she is a magician.  She told me if I didn't go into labor that night, to text her the next day to go back and see her.  It made me nervous to think that her acupuncture might really work!  Less than an hour after leaving her office I started getting contractions every 5 minutes. I spent the last 2 weeks of my pregnancy wanting So badly for my labor to start, but then every time I thought it might actually be starting I felt So unprepared and wanting more time.   

I guess my body wasn't ready because around 3 or 4 am the contractions stopped.  This happened on and off for weeks. I would get hours and hours of contractions, usually painless and especially in the evening, letting Erik know whenever he left the house that something might be happening so check the phone every once in a while, but by morning the contractions would be gone.  I decided not to go see Xiangping again the next day, because I felt like if the baby had been totally ready to come, this would have done it.  She wanted more time in utero.  

I talked to our baby, telling her how I wanted her to come when she was ready and if she wasn't ready that that was ok, but to please do it before September 29th, because at my 40+2 week appointment my doctor scheduled me to be induced the following week.  I began accepting the fact that induction was a possibility and actually came to terms with it.  What choice did I have?

In the meantime I was doing Everything I could to "naturally" induce.  I ate pineapple, dates and drank litres of raspberry leaf tea. I walked and walked (10k up and down the mountain at 9 months pregnant thanks very much, and yes i almost died), I bounced on my birthing ball, stimulated my nipples (which I absolutely abhorred doing, btw, but my doctor told me to), I had a hypnosis mp3 titled "Come OUT, Baby!"  (yes, OUT was capitalized), I did acupressure, I prayed... Come OUT baby (only if you want to though, it's completely up to you).  I felt like I was negotiating with a mystery. 

On September 23rd at my doctor's appointment she did a stretch and sweep. This is a mildly uncomfortable experience where the doctor stretches open your cervix with her fingers. It can only be done if you're already slightly dilated, which I was, so she stretched me to 4cm and I was 100% effaced.  This is very good for someone who has never had a baby before.  I was proud when she told me I had a perfect cervix.  I was excited that maybe this would put me into labor, but I felt great as ever that day.  Erik asked me all afternoon If I felt any differently.  Nope, I smiled.   

On the 24th I went back downtown to see Xiangping: Acupuncture Master.  I was officially over my due date and meant business.  The acupuncture treatment was painful. Xiangping laughed and said through her thick accent "More pain now, less pain later". I love her.  

As I was leaving  she said, 'go shopping now', So I did.  As I was buying myself a beautiful new scarf from Roots that can double as a breastfeeding cover up, the contractions started again.  5 minutes apart and mildly painful.  Mildly painful as in "Yes! This is painful, I'm excited!"  I have never wanted to be in pain so bad in my life.  The contractions continued 5 minutes apart all day and all night.  At 9pm Erik skeptically went to play hockey.  I told him to check his phone when he was done playing, just in case.  While he was gone I took a bath.  I started feeling hot and nauseous and by the time he got home around 11 I was in bed.  He came to say hello and I said I was just going to lay there for a bit.  Normally we have chips (or Chip Tiiiiiime, as we call it) and watch a show, but I wasn't into it and he said he was going to shower and shave (for the baby, he added).   When he was finished I asked him to turn the light out.  This was around 12:30am.

Minutes after he left the room I got a contraction that was different than the previous ones.  It was about 10x's more painful and I felt something pop and shift downward in my pelvis.  I opened my eyes and laid there.  2 minutes later another Very painful contraction.  I debated laying there to see if there would be one more contraction, but got up and went to the living room instead. I sat on the couch and looked at Erik and said "We need to go to the hospital now."  We talked for about 5 minutes.. I didn't know what to do, didn't want to go to the hospital too early, but something felt different and he knew it too. He hadn't packed his hospital bag yet, so he said he was going to do that and we'll see what happened over the next 10 minutes.  I started timing my contractions and they were coming every 1.5 - 2 minutes apart, lasting about 45 seconds to a minute and extremely painful.  I finally wasn't able to move or talk during a contraction.  Well I did say "Ow", if that's considered talking.  He packed quickly and I got out the list remaining things to pack and in the middle of the night this all felt very romantic and meaningful and unique to us and as I finished gathering the last few items on my list (phone charger, pillow,  expensive nut mix), we were out the door.   I've never seen my usually extremely laid-back Erik more frantic.  He ran our belongings out to the car as I slowly and hugely made my way there, having to stop on the sidewalk, mid-contractions.   The drive to the hospital was quiet and beautiful.  No cars on the road, he put in a Nick Cave cd as I tried "Om-ing" and grasping the handrail at the top of the passenger window every time we were threatened with a Montreal pothole.  It was a lovely drive.  

He walked me up to labor and delivery telling the security guard he was leaving the car because "my wife is in labor!"... 

We checked in at the front desk of the 5th floor labor and delivery ward at the Jewish General Hospital and all was super quiet.  I loved this! I don't know why, but I had imagined doctors running through the hallway past women screaming and doubled over, but far as I could tell I was the only person in the city having a baby that night.  It was about 1:20 am at this point. Erik went to go park the car and I went to my room to change into a birthing frock.  I met my nurse Laurin, who was a young, blonde, beautiful angel.  I knew the second I looked into her eyes that she was going to take great care of us.   A resident came to check me and I was 6.5 cm dilated.   Laurin's eyes widened with surprise at how far along I was.  She said I was definitely not going home.  She told me they had a jacuzzi and asked if I wanted to labor in it?  "YES!!"  This was one of my dreams for my labor.  She said she was going to go clean it and that since my water hadn't broken yet, it was totally cool for me to labor in the tub.

I felt super excited.  By this time Erik was back and my contractions were so bad that my legs were shaking uncontrollably on the bed.  It was impossible to get comfortable.  When you take those birthing classes that show you different positions to labor in, it all seems so easy, but I was quickly realizing that even getting into one of those positions was excruciating.  In the 1 minute of relief I had between contractions I decided to stand up and lean over the side of the bed.  Sorry this is gross but at this point half of my water broke and there went the jacuzzi dream.  "I think my water is breaking" I said to Erik, mid-contraction and he looked down and said "Yes, I think so too."

"Do you want an epidural?" Laurin asked.  "No, I'm going to try to do without it, but I'm open."  I thought for sure she was going to pressure me to get it, but was surprised when she said she loves natural deliveries. She did say though, "You have to decide now.  If you're not going to get an epidural then you have to be very convicted in that."   Every single staff member surprised me that night when they were extremely supportive and encouraging of my decision.  Even as I was starting to doubt myself, they told me that I could do it.

As an aside: Since the moment I got pregnant I knew I wanted to have a drug-free birth.  I never understood why a woman would choose that, but about a week before finding out I was pregnant I watched the Business of Being Born and it really changed the way I saw childbirth. I read Ina May's Guide to Childbirth and was further convinced.  When I told people I wanted to do it drug-free they rolled their eyes, laughed and told me I was crazy.  Even Erik said he didn't really understand and thought that I was doing it so that I could feel like I was 'better' than a woman who got an epidural, but for me, it had nothing to do with anyone else.  I pass not a single speck of judgement on how another woman's baby comes into the world.  I just wanted to feel it.  I was longing to feel it. I wanted to give birth the way women have been giving birth since the beginning of time.  I figured it couldn't hurt to try.  (or maybe i should say it could hurt to try).

Anyway, a ridiculously painful hour later a resident checked my progress.  8cm.  Exciting! My water was only half broken, meaning there was still a membrane intact.  Laurin brought me a birthing ball to bounce on.  It was the exact same one that I had at home.  This made me happy.  Sitting on it was torture, but Laurin told me the gravity would help the baby come down.   Every contraction, Erik was behind me,  rubbing and putting hercules amounts of pressure on my sacrum, which is basically where all of my pain was centralized.  The word "pain" does not describe it.  "Pain" sounds so gentle, so carefree and easygoing, like breaking a finger or falling upon a spear.  Unfortunately, there is no way for me to explain the pain, because as soon as it overtakes you completely it is gone.  It's like a panic attack.  If you've ever had one you know how bad it is, but when it's over, you forget what it feels like.  This labor was like that.  The absolute worst, most horrible, bone-bashing, ripping your body in twain pain of my life.  Hitting again and again, every 2 minutes for hour upon endless hour.  Every contraction Erik rubbing my sacrum, telling me I was awesome.

As I bounced and rolled and rocked on the birthing ball we listened to music.  I'm not sure if I'll be able to listen to Moonface, the National, Basia Bulat, or Fleetwood Mac ever the same.  But the music helped.  I sang.  I moaned.  I chanted like I learned in pre-natal yoga.  OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! UUUUUUUUUUUU! "oh my God, I don't think I can do this, Erik......"  and he just kept telling me "You're doing it."

One word about Erik.  This guy is incredible.  He was there, every second, every contraction and our time together was so special.  I never once yelled "YOU DID THIS TO ME!!!"  like they do in movies.  We just kept saying how much we love each other and how grateful we are for each other.

We had hired a doula, but held off calling her.  Erik and I were so completely enjoying the experience of doing this alone, together.

By this time it was probably around 5:30 am and Laurin came back from her 2 hour break ( I really missed her while she was gone) and I told her I was feeling a lot of pressure, my legs were still shaking uncontrollably and she called a Dr. to check me again.  Hours had passed and the pain was beyond bearable, but guess what,  I was STILL only at 8cm.   This made me crazy.  What?! NO! I was 8cms 2 hours ago.   She told me sometimes that just happens.  She said things were going really fast for me and that I could keep laboring the way I was, or she said they could break the rest of my water and that would probably shave an hour off my labor.  She also said that breaking my water would make the contractions much more painful.   Neither option was particularly enticing.  Either I keep laboring like this, for God knows how long, or they break my water and I choose to increase my pain.

"Fine, just break it," I said with extreme sadness.

oh and by the way, laying flat on your back on a bed with your legs spread wide open and someone breaking your water while you are in the middle of a contraction is something I wouldn't wish on even the most evil person in the world.  It. is. horrible.

Laurin was no fool when she said the contractions were going to get worse.  The whole night up to this point was beautiful and I was so happy and feeling fearless and full of joy at the fact that maybe I was going to be meeting our baby soon, but post-water-breakage was the only time during this whole experience that I felt afraid.    I felt afraid because my first contraction after they broke my water my body convulsed beyond anything I could control and I yelled "I'm pushing!"  Laurin sternly said "Don't Push!"  and I said I couldn't help it, my body was literally taking over and no matter how hard I tried I could not Not push.  She told me if I pushed when I wasn't completely dilated that the baby's head would hit my cervix and I would swell.  She said this so seriously that it scared me and I began to fear my contractions.  About 1 out of every 10 of them I was able to win over my body, but that left 9 out of 10 that I was absurdly out of control.  It is very strange to have your body so completely over rule your mind.  Even Erik at this point was maybe a little concerned.  "Don't Push!" he would say, as I would yell "I'm pushing! I'm pushing!" and then finally around 6:45am I told him he needed to call the Doula immediately.  I needed extra help at this point.   The sun was coming up and with each contraction I just remember looking out the window and up as high as I could into the brightening sky and saying "God help me, pleaaaase." Erik said my eyes were rolling back into my head and I do believe that is true.

Sesch, the doula, showed up around 7:30am.  I whined "Sesch, they keep telling me not to push but I can't help it, my body is pushing anyway, and it hurts so bad Sesch, it hurts so bad" and she looked at me with sympathetic eyes that I knew she reserved for her ladies in labor and said tenderly " I know it hurts, I know."

"I'm pushhiiiiiing!" I said to her on the next contraction after she arrived and she said "It's ok, so just push" and this made me so happy to hear.   Not feeling like I had to fight it was such a relief.  The 2nd contraction after Sesch arrived was crazy and I said I feel like I needed to poo, and with that she called for the nurse and they checked me again and I was at 10 cm!  Fully dilated and ready to for real push this baby out.

Things get super blurry by this point.  It went fast.  They had me try a "test push" to see if I knew what I was doing.  I guess I did well, because with each contraction, the staff was busy preparing things around me for the arrival of the baby. I screamed during the first push and the Dr. told me I needed to not do that, so I kept quiet and pushed for 10 seconds.  Then I would push again for 10 more.  Pushing was so much easier than trying to get through the earlier contractions but it wasn't glamorous.  I pooped. I nearly puked. I could literally feel the blood vessels in my face breaking and popping.  At the end of each push I let out the growls of a crazy cave lady.  Erik told me that I looked like a monster.  With every contraction I could feel our baby getting closer.  Erik said he was prepared for her little cone head, but was surprised when it looked like the tip of a pencil with some hair on it coming out.  The Dr. asked me if I wanted to feel her head.  "NO!" I shouted, thinking let's just do this please!  After about 6 contractions and 15 minutes of pushing our baby came out.  They put her on my chest.  She was quiet and squirming. I looked at her.  She looked nothing like I thought she would. I inspected every inch of her and fell so instantly in love with the feeling of her being in our presence. In an instant, life as I knew it was gone and replaced by something so unknowably new.

The next 2 days I slept a total of 1 hour.  I devoured hospital meatballs with my hands.  Erik literally spoon fed me while I tried to learn how to feed our baby.  This was so hard.  She was so beautiful and tiny and hungry and I didn't know how to feed her and I was just so tired.  She lost 11% of her body weight and I felt helpless.  Finally, an angel nurse named Liliane helped us.  I learned how to feed Violet pumped breast milk from a cup.  She gained enough weight that they let us go home and I was terrified.  I've never been more terrified in my life.  Nothing prepares you for the moment the baby arrives.

Being pregnant was easy, I realize in retrospect.  I'll be honest, I really miss being pregnant.  The world loves a pregnant lady and it's nice to feel like the world loves you. I miss my belly more than I thought I would and I already want to be pregnant again. (Don't worry Erik, we'll wait till you're ready too.)  But having a baby has changed everything I never knew could be changed. My heart is more wide and full than I ever thought possible.  I love her so fiercely I would do anything to protect her.  My love for my husband has quadrupled.  Even my love for strangers and their children has increased dramatically.  I feel a love and a kindness I've never felt, for others and for myself, but especially for my family.

There were moments in the days after having her that I felt like I was on ecstacy.  My body quivering with joy and a love so deep it couldn't possibly be natural, but it was!  Or at least my hormones led me to believe it was.  An hour later I would be crying, bawling, weeping with such deep feelings of insecurity and fear of how to keep this little being safe.  This has been the craziest experience of my life and I wouldn't change a second of it.  

I didn't know life could be this good.  and at the same time it's hard.  Sleep deprivation is a real thing and I'm pretty much tired all of the time.  It doesn't matter though because when I wake up at 4 in the morning I get to hang out with Violet.  A baby that Erik and I made.   I feel so lucky and blessed.  I know there are so many good times ahead.  I know there will be tough times too.  I am grateful for it all.  Just please Universe, keep our little Violet safe and let her know huge love and massive happiness.  Violet, you are the greatest gift. Your Dad and I love you beyond measure.  I didn't know that I have been waiting my entire life to meet you and you have made my life ridiculously more awesome.

So that's that.  The day Violet was born. The best day of my life. And it keeps getting better.  Thank you for letting me share my story with you.  I know every mother has their own story and they are all so very special and important.  I'm proud to be among the ranks. My respect goes out to every mother out there.   I could spend forever listening to women tell their birth stories.  and one last thank you needs to go out to someone very special.  Dear Mom, Thank You.  I never knew.