Tongue Tied

It's a historic day. A long awaited, much prayed for, dreamed about day. It seems we've been ending a lot of chapters lately, ready to make way for the new words to fill the pages of our marriage. Our story continues. I didn't know it was possible to be this proud of you. I have always loved you. Always, without question, regardless of the circumstances. I loved you in your failures. In your hurts. In the trenches. And now I can love you in your triumphs. And to see you succeed makes me so proud of you. Not because you did this on your own. I watched you try that before, and the hardest thing I have ever done is watch you suffer in your failures. No, I'm proud of you because this time, you relied on Someone else's strength. You worked hard. You did what was required of you and more. You kept a good attitude during the struggle. Your faith gave you strength and endurance I've never seen in you before. And now you are reaping what you sowed, in the best way possib

There's something wrong with our country. In 2009, the rate of Cesarean births in the United States rose to 34%. The World Health Organization recommends the rate should be between 10 and 15 percent in developed countries. In the last thirty years, we've blown that percentage out of the water. And it's not just America. Globally, c-section rates have exploded. In regions of Italy, rates vary from 44% to 60%, which some private clinics showing rates of 85%! C-sections are on the rise in places like Turkey, the United Kingdom, Brazil. China is the highest in the world with a whopping 46%. Half the women in China give birth by C-section. Which, I guess makes the USA's measly one in three not look so bad. But I live here, so I'll complain about here. Epidural use nationally is at about 61% It was hard to nail down statistics about Pitocin use and elective labor induction, but I did find an article saying that these rates had doubled in the ten years between 1992 and 200

I have been doing things. Lots of things. Things that make me really sore. And tired. Nesting always kicks in during the third trimester, when my ankles swell and my joints ache and I can't bend or move easily and I get contractions from doing things. Why can't it come during the second trimester, after the puking stops and before I move like a beached whale? But at least it comes, I guess. And things get done. I only have two weeks until my deadline. I've given myself till 37 weeks to get all my big projects done, and hopefully most of my small ones. Thing Two was born at 37 weeks. I wasn't ready. I'm happy to share a few of the things I've completed. We've scored some major deals in the garage sale/thrift store arenas recently. I was scouring garage sales and craigslist for a long time looking for something we could use as extra kitchen storage. I was thinking a small hutch or something like that, but then I came across this cabinet at a garage sale. It ca

Boy or girl, our baby essentially will have one outfit upon its arrival, aside from the plain white onesies I've got stocked up. I have no girl clothes. And the boy clothes are all the wrong season. I'm not worried though. For one thing, it will be hot. Onesies and a light blanket will do for a few days after he/she's born until I can send Hubby to the store to pick up a couple sleepers. With either gender, I know my sisters will supply me with stuff too. If I get around to it, I'll probably run to Once Upon a Child and see if there are any lightweight, gender neutral clothes. I did, however, purchase a "going home" onesie for a boy and a girl. Then, being the proficient homemaker that I am, I proceeded to hang them on the hallway cabinet handle. They've been there for weeks. Somewhere along the way, a silent war began surrounding those onesies. Without even noticing, I had hung the "Little Brother" onesie on the outside. I have a very visual mem