Birth Story: Nora

After two births that looked pretty similar in timing, I figured I knew what was coming for this fifth birth. WRONG AGAIN!! 

I'll admit, I was a bit freaked out about this birth. I'm not sure what it was, but I was dreading it! Maybe it's because I knew what I was getting into?? But I could not get into the right mindset and perhaps that's why the birth played out like it did (read: looooooong). 

Anyway, things started out pretty similar to the last two births - I started having different, more painful contractions as I was going to bed Wednesday night, but eventually fell asleep. I was woken up many times throughout the night with contractions, but would fall back asleep in between them. That morning before anyone else was awake, I started timing them. Every 10 minutes. I figured we'd have a baby that night. Well, kids got up and everyone got going and contractions kept coming every 5-15 minutes for about 3 hours. Skyler decided to stay home from work. I was supposed to have an appointment with my midwife at 11am, but I decided to call at 10am and let her know I thought I was in early labor. We decided that I'd skip the appointment and keep in touch. After I got off that call, things started slowing down dramatically. 20-30 minutes between contractions, sometimes 45 minutes. This went on for another 3 or 4 hours and by about 3 pm, I finally accepted/decided that I was not in labor. It was a big mental game that I had never played! I was discouraged and very tired and starting to feel a bit overwhelmed. I went to the local splash pad with my friend because I needed to get out of the house. I kept having contractions every 20-40 minutes, but I was doing my best to just ignore them while also needing to pause and breathe through them (they were still hard!). We came home, ate dinner and got kids to bed. I called my midwives and let them know that things had slowed down and we decided I'd go in for an appointment the next afternoon. 

Once kids were in bed, Skyler and I watched the first half of "A Man Called Otto" and contractions started picking up again - every 10 minutes or so. I was really tired from the night before, so I decided to head to bed fairly early in hopes of getting some better rest. Nice try, Katie. I ended up laying in bed for hours, unable to fall asleep. Contractions had slowed down again and were coming every 30 minutes or so at this point. I finally fell asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning, to be woken up every 30 - 45 minutes throughout the night to have a contraction, then fall back asleep. To say I was tired and confused the next morning was a bit of an understatement. I had no clue what was going on and was super frustrated. Skyler was very calm about it all, trying to reassure me that there wasn't anything I could do and just let things play out, but remember, I was a super tired hormonal crazy lady and I wasn't buying any of it! I decided to see if I could get into a chiropractor and be adjusted, hoping that getting everything in alignment may help. I was able to get in around 11am. The rest of Friday is a bit hazy for me, but I do remember just trying to stay out of my head. I didn't have too many contractions in the morning, but the ones I did have were getting harder. I didn't have much of an appetite during the day. We ended up going to the pool around 3pm, and I had a few harder contractions there. I went to my midwife appointment at 4:30 and I could tell things were starting to change a bit. Contractions came at least every 10 minutes and were definitely getting more uncomfortable. I remember getting to the office and having to stop at the front door with a contraction and breathe through it. My midwife and I talked through my frustrations and she gave me a bunch of natural options for trying to get rest that night (lemon balm, melatonin, chamomile, etc), but she did say that I had a labor look about me and doubted that this prodromal labor would go on for too much longer. She also asked if I wanted to get an IV bag of fluids. I didn't really see how that would help, but I didn't have the kids with me (Skyler had stayed home from work again that day), so I figured why not? She got me all hooked up and then I just hung out for about 45 minutes. In that time, I had a number of contractions that I couldn't take sitting down. I had to stand up and work through them. They still weren't super long, but they were definitely getting harder. When I was done with the IV, my midwife said something along the lines of, "Maybe we'll see you in a couple of hours!" I doubted it, but was hopeful. 

I stopped on my way home from the office to grab pizza for dinner and continued having contractions every 5-10 minutes. Once I got home around 6pm, I think I got a small snack of something, but had no desire to really eat, and certainly not pizza! The kids were watching a movie and contractions just kept coming. I didn't need Skyler too much at this point, but it was helpful to have him rub my back during the contractions. After the movie, we got kids ready for bed. Contractions were definitely getting harder and I was starting to be more vocal about it. Evie and Zoe were getting really thrown off by this. Zoe was getting emotional and at one point Evie said, "I don't like the noises you're making!" while covering her ears. It was about this same time that I think Skyler realized that I was really in labor. After a particularly hard contraction he turned to me and said, "Do you want to change into something else?" Yes!

The next few hours are, again, a bit hazy for me. We turned on the rest of "A Man Called Otto" and I thought that things would really get going, but they just kept chugging along about 5-10 minutes apart and still not much longer than 30-45 seconds. I was starting to feel really, really exhausted and overwhelmed by how long this was going to take because at this point it was about 8:30pm and I wanted to go to bed, but knew there was no way that was going to happen. After the movie, Skyler turned on the women's world cup and we watched that for about an hour and a half. During this time, I started walking up and down the stairs, hoping that things would really amp up, but they just weren't! I was so frustrated! So tired! Finally, at about 10:30, I told Skyler that I wanted to call the midwife. I could tell he didn't think it was a great idea because it was obvious I wasn't that close. Typically I don't like to have anyone else at the birth until I'm practically pushing. But I felt like I needed some reassurance that I was actually in labor. So I called my midwife about 10:45pm and she said she'd be over in about 30 minutes. Right after I made that call, something changed. It's like my mind and body finally decided/accepted that it was time. I headed upstairs to our bedroom and things started ramping up. Skyler and I got the bed ready (put plastic down, etc) and I started needing help through contractions that were coming every 3-5 minutes apart and were getting hard! Still not very long, but hard. By the time my midwife got there at 11:15, I was definitely in the zone. Even so, I figured it was going to be a quick visit for her, then she'd head home and we'd call her back a couple of hours later. Wrong again! I try to avoid getting any cervical checks during labor, but I really needed the reassurance at this point, so I asked her to check me. Again, I could tell Skyler didn't think it would be a good idea. I remember he said, "Now, don't be disappointed if you're not dilated that much." So my midwife checked me, and I could tell it just wasn't going to be great news. She said, "You're about a 4-5, but your cervix is very flexible. Would you like me to do a membrane sweep and stretch?" I really wasn't thinking very clearly at this point, so I couldn't make a decision. I decided to get back up and take a few more contractions. In between contractions, I went back and forth about what I wanted to do. I remember asking if there would be any downside to doing the sweep and stretch and my midwife said that baby's positioning was great, so no, not really. I decided to have her do it and once she was checking my cervix again she started chuckling and said, "Well, in those few contractions you've already gotten to a 6, and I can stretch your cervix to a 7, no 8!" I responded with, "Can you take it to a 10?!" After that, I was feeling much more motivated, my midwife started setting up all of her delivery items and within a short time, my other midwife was there. I told Skyler, "Whoa! I thought I had 5 more hours! It's like they're setting up for me to push a baby out!" 

At this point, contractions had become very, very intense. Still not super long - maxing out at a minute or so. I was getting pretty vocal and I really needed Skyler's help. Each birth has been a bit different in what I prefer as far as his counter pressure, etc. but this birth I really liked to face him and have my arms around his shoulders. Like a hug! A really intense hug! It was around this time also that as my midwife was listening with the doppler for the baby, she took longer to find the heartbeat. She again kind of chuckled and said, "Baby is now way lower! I couldn't find the heartbeat because it was way further down than the last time I checked." I was starting to get pushy and wanting to bend my legs more. I asked my midwife, "Can I push??!" She said, "Yeah, go ahead. You can sit with the feeling a bit more and let it build, but you're welcome to push." I somehow ended up backing up against the wall during a contraction and I really liked how it felt, so I ended up staying there for a number of contractions while Skyler and one of the midwives pushed against my legs. The only problem with this was that I was basically doing a wall sit while taking extremely intense contractions and trying to push and then standing up and locking my knees in between. I could tell that this wasn't going to be the way I wanted to push the baby out, although I could feel a bit of movement down from baby. Skyler really took the lead here and encouraged me to change positions. I ended up kneeling and leaning against my bed, which is a position I have never pushed in. Contractions had spread out quite a bit, like they do during pushing, but I remember thinking that this was almost over and I just needed to give it everything I had. I haven't had super quick pushing stages, so I was still expecting quite a bit of time. But on the next contraction, I pushed as hard as I could and was shocked when I could feel so much movement and then baby's head crowning. My midwives were saying, "Katie! Breathe! You need to breathe!" (Apparently I was holding my breath, ha!) But baby's head was out! It was bizarre to not be able to see what was going on, but I heard my midwife say, "After you push the body out, I'm going to hand baby to you." and I thought, What the heck! How am I supposed to take a baby?? I'm literally using both of my arms to hold myself up on this bed! But next contraction I pushed the body out and all of a sudden there was a baby being handed to me from underneath and I grabbed her and sat down on the ground (don't worry, chux pads!) and felt amazing. I got moved right up to the bed and just got to hold and nurse baby girl and bask in that wild and wonderful feeling of just giving birth. Baby girl was born at 12:52am - only an hour and a half from the time my midwife got to our house! 

Birth Story: Zoe

If I had to describe myself in one word for this birth it would be: emotional. I was so emotional! 

On Sunday evening after kids were in bed, I started having very consistent Braxton Hicks contractions. I went to bed knowing nothing would happen because I wasn't due until Wednesday and I NEVER go early and besides, I had made a deal with baby that we wouldn't do the labor thing for at least another week. Buuuuut contractions started picking up in intensity and I couldn't fall asleep for a number of hours. I finally fell asleep for a couple of hours, but got woken up with a hard contraction. I tried to doze in between contractions after that, but it didn't go very well. I remember saying a prayer that things would either stop completely or pick up, but neither of those things happened, ha! I finally got up and started walking around. I was feeling super frustrated and not ready AT ALL (weird, I know. Most women are dying to be done with pregnancy. I think I could be happily pregnant for 12 months). Contractions were between 5 and 15 minutes apart when Skyler woke up. He took one look at me pacing in front of the bed and said, "Whoa, looks like you're in labor!" Turns out that was the wrong thing to say because I gave him a look and burst into tears. "I've been up most of the night!" 

It was Labor Day (yes, really) and Skyler's parents were hosting a family breakfast. There was no way I was going to go and have people watching me, so I sent Skyler with the kids. I had a Walmart grocery order to pick up that morning, so I got in the car and headed there. I remember having a number of really intense contractions while driving and thinking that this was dangerous! I got home and decided to turn on the new Cinderella movie. I was able to doze in and out as contractions came. They were getting more painful, but I could still take them laying down on my side and breathing through them. At some point, I also got showered. Skyler came back with the kids shortly after noon, and I was so disappointed that he hadn't left the kids with his parents because I knew contractions wouldn't pick up with them at home. But of course, I wasn't communicating well at all and Skyler had no way of knowing this. I was crying a lot and around 2pm, Skyler forced it out of me that I wanted his parents to pick up the kids. Skyler was feeling really frustrated with my lack of communication and he finally said, "Katie, you've got to talk to me!" I just cried more, but tried to do better. I was feeling so tired and overwhelmed. 

Skyler turned on the US Open and I labored near him for a while. He fell asleep on the couch and I decided to let him sleep because I was doing ok without his help at that point and I wanted him to be able to rest - I didn't know how much longer this was going to take! I went upstairs to our bedroom by myself and contractions started coming on stronger. I remember taking contractions against the inside of the door frame, rubbing my back up and down the frame like a cat! I did this for probably an hour before deciding it was time to wake Skyler up; I needed support! He felt bad for falling asleep and got right to work. We labored together while watching a tennis match. I would lean my arms against the back of the couch and Skyler would give counter pressure on my back. Contractions continued getting more intense and frequent and we switched to having Skyler right behind me and wrapping his arms around to push on the fronts of my thighs. After a while of doing this, Skyler suggested calling the midwives. I didn't think I was that far along, but didn't argue. When the midwives got there around 6:30pm, I got emotional again and I remember them asking me if I could pinpoint why. I'm not sure I even gave a verbal answer, just shrugged my shoulders. The midwives watched and listened through a few contractions and told us they were going to hang out downstairs because Skyler and I seemed to be doing well on our own for now. Skyler and I worked through some very hard contractions and after another hour or so, the midwives came upstairs and calmly said, "Your sounds have changed and you're obviously getting pushy. We need to get you up to your room." 

We all headed up to our bedroom and the midwives started getting things set up. I had asked for a birthing stool because I had liked it for my last birth. I took a few contractions in our bedroom and they were getting so intense; I was definitely getting the urge to push. During one of the contractions, my sister slipped in. I had texted her about an hour earlier letting her know things were getting closer. I remember looking up after that contraction and getting very emotional seeing her there. 

I'm a very modest birther. You hear about women stripping down and not caring about anything. Not me! So it's not surprising that my midwives had to tell me, "Katie, I think it's time to take off your pants." I remember shaking my head and saying, "No, I don't want to." Everyone laughed, but I was serious! Well, the pants came off anyway and I got on the birthing stool. I tried pushing through a few contractions on the stool but I just wasn't feeling it. My midwives suggested getting on my hands and knees, so I did that for a couple of really hard contractions and still wasn't feeling it. They suggested getting into sort of a lunge position, and I didn't like that either. I couldn't really get comfortable and I wasn't feeling much movement at all. I decided to get back on the stool and push some more. I started feeling a bit of movement, but was feeling so tired and frustrated. "I don't want to do this anymore! Am I even close!?" My midwife calmly said, "Yes, you can reach down and feel for yourself." I could feel the bag of waters and that was very encouraging, but I still didn't like my position. I ended up back on all fours for a contraction, hated it, and was encouraged to get back into the lunge position to maybe help get baby in a better position. I wasn't planning or wanting to stay in the lunge because it was hard to hold, but a contraction came on quickly and I started pushing against it and everything happened so fast! Baby's head pretty much popped out! I was not ready for it at all. There was so much pressure and pain and intensity and I was very vocal about not enjoying it. Skyler was right behind me, helping to hold me up and encouraging me the whole time. One more push and the body came out and baby was handed right to me. I sat down, holding baby, and felt the shock and amazing relief that comes after giving birth. The midwives started checking baby and we found out we had another girl! 

This was the position I ended up pushing out baby in. Sans pants.

Birth Story: Evie

If there was one thing I heard over and over about third births, it's that they're unpredictable. I hate that! I'm a planner! Well, turns out this birth was very different from my other two, but I think overall it was my easiest. Don't mistake "easiest" for "easy." Very different.

Anyway. I started the pregnancy out in Florida and spent so much time interviewing and agonizing over homebirth midwives. I finally settled on two awesome midwives and shortly after, we decided to move to Utah. Once we got here, I was 29 weeks pregnant and living with family (which put homebirthing mostly out of the question for us), so we went for the least stressful option: the local birth center. Now for the birth.

I'm probably the least anxious pregnant woman you'll ever meet. I was due July 7th and my goal was to go into labor, at the earliest, on July 8th. There was a ton of family visiting and staying with my in-laws (where we were living) for the 4th of July, so I needed them all to be gone before I could go into labor. I had tons and tons of contractions the days leading up to the birth. On July 11th, I woke up around 1am with a contraction. I went to the bathroom and had another contraction. I knew these were real contractions and to be honest, I felt so overwhelmed. I was tired. I was not looking forward to laboring. I just wasn't feeling it, despite being 4 days "overdue." So anyway, I tried to go back to sleep and spent the next 5.5 hours sleeping between contractions. As you can imagine, it was pretty crummy sleep. I just kept waiting for things to pick up, but they didn't, so when I got up around 6:30am, I was pretty confused and bugged.

I sent Skyler to work and spent the next 7 hours having contractions every 5-30 minutes apart. They hurt, and I had to stop and breathe through them. The kids and I went to the library with my mom and just tried to stay generally busy. I was so annoyed because this was nothing like my other 2 labors and I couldn’t even tell if I was actually IN labor. And I was tired.  

After lunch, I had the kids watch a movie and I took a nap. I got woken up with contractions a couple of times during the nap and I finally got up. Skyler had also decided to come home at this point (about 3pm). He was pretty antsy for labor to get amped up and I was finally starting to feel semi-motivated. We decided to take the kids to a park and let them get some energy out. The contractions were coming every 5 minutes at this point, which is kind of weird at a park. I was feeling really in control, so I didn't need any counter pressure from Skyler at this point, but I did have to close my eyes and breathe during the contractions. Luckily the park was super busy and no one seemed to notice me. I was pretty convinced I was in labor at this point, but it was so different than previous labors that I still wasn't 100% confident.

We got home around 5pm and I made dinner through very frequent contractions. I always have an emotional part of labor, and this was it. The kids were rubbing my back during contractions and I can't describe it any other way - I just felt so much love. Love from them, for them, just lots and lots of love. We ate dinner together. Skyler reminded me of my tendency to throw up during labor, so I didn't eat too much. I wasn't very hungry at this point anyway. We had 1.5 hours after dinner and before putting kids to bed where we just hung out and my contractions all but stopped during this time. I was disappointed that they had slowed down so much, but it was a nice time as our little family and I knew things would kick into gear once they were in bed. I was right.

We got kids in bed and contractions started coming very frequently and were pretty intense. I still felt very in control and didn't need counter pressure. But I was also being really whiny to Skyler about how I wanted to go to bed and didn't want to labor anymore. I laid down for a while and he rubbed my back. I was in and out of the bathroom and just generally feeling fed up with contractions. I told him I wanted to go to the birth center a bit before 9pm and he was pretty straightforward with me. He told me I should labor at home for a while longer and that I wasn't as far along as I thought I was/wanted to be. I insisted on calling the midwife and after talking with her decided to keep laboring at home. I think I finally mentally accepted everything at this point and got really focused. The next hour is a bit hazy for me, but I stopped being chatty/whiny and started asking for more physical support. With Jude's birth, I would stand and face the wall during a contraction and Skyler would push on my back. With Jane's birth, I'd stand and face the wall and he would push my hips together. This time I would stand and face the wall and Skyler would stand behind me and push on my thighs. It's interesting how preferences change from birth to birth! Shortly before 10pm, we agreed that it was time to head out.

We got to the birth center shortly after 10pm and contractions were coming one on top of another. Skyler and I were working together and I still felt in control, which was rad. I knew the midwife would need to check me and I wasn't too thrilled about it. I laid on the bed and immediately had a contraction. The midwife was awesome and acted so quickly. She grabbed my legs and pushed against them as hard as she could. She's not what I would call a petite person, so it was awesome and effective counter pressure! After the contraction was over, she checked me and I was at an 8. I was really excited about this because I knew I just had to transition and then I'd be pushing! In Skyler's notes it says, "Katie catches happy second wind." Ha! For the next 20ish minutes, the midwives left us alone. Sky and I worked through frequent, long, intense contractions together and not to brag or anything, but I'm pretty good at laboring and he's pretty good at supporting me. It's pretty cool.

Around 10:30 I did what I do every birth and ask to get in the tub, even though I know I won't like it. So yeah, in the tub and then out of the tub. At this point, things were very intense and one of the contractions I started bearing down and being pretty loud about it. The midwives walked in and said, "Getting pushy?" Yes! They asked where I wanted to push and I told them I liked pushing on the toilet with Jane, so I'd be up for that. They offered a birthing stool, which is basically a more comfortable toilet seat, and no water underneath. So they got it all set up, got all their supplies, and I sat down on it. And then I had to pee, so I said, "I have to pee." One midwife told me that was great and I should just pee right there. They had put down tons of chux pads, so go for it. I remember closing my eyes and thinking about peeing infront of everyone and I could.not.do.it. So I got up and went to the bathroom.

I started pushing right before 11pm and could feel that things were going to go very quickly. The pushing was intense! I always forget how intense pushing out a human is! Within a push or two, everyone could see the head and I reached down and felt the bag of water. I pushed a couple more times and the head was completely out and my water broke. I was pretty loud, not holding anything back and yelling quite a bit. But the worst was pushing out the shoulders and body - it was way more painful than I remember and I totally screamed. But then it was over! That feeling is indescribable. We were in total shock to find out that we had another girl! She came right on to my chest and was so calm, just snuggling into me and not crying at all. We spent the next couple of hours at the birth center, nursing and enjoying our little Evie (and passing out on the toilet, but that's another story). We headed home and caught a few hours of sleep before the kids were up and ready to meet their new sister!

Apparently I did laundry in active labor.

Birth Story: Jane

I woke up at 2am, mostly confused. I went to the bathroom and had a few contractions in there. I refused to believe that I was in labor because 1) I was soooo tired and wanted to go back to sleep and 2) I was only one day past my EDD. When I went back to bed, Sky asked if I was in labor. I told him to go back to sleep and I'd wake him if/when I needed him. I headed out to the couch and was able to sleep between contractions for a couple of hours. At 4:30 I woke up pretty alert and started working through contractions while kneeling over the couch for the next 2 hours. I ate a hard-boiled egg and had some Naked juice, knowing full well I would be throwing it all up later. Jude woke up at 6:30 and I took him back to our bed. The next 15 minutes were pretty emotional for me as I nursed Jude and held Sky's hand through harder contractions that came on quite rapidly. It may sound crazy, but I knew this moment of saying goodbye to our family of three was something I needed to address in order for labor to really get going.

Things really took off from there and I needed Sky for both physical and emotional support. Jude and my mother-in-law were around for the next hour. I didn't mind having Jude around, but it was becoming increasingly difficult for Skyler to support me while having Jude hanging on his neck, so my mother-in-law took him to the park for the next couple of hours. Sky and I continued laboring together. Just like Jude's labor, I wanted to walk and take the contractions standing up, leaning against a counter or wall while Sky squeezed my hips. A little after 8am, Sky texted my midwife to tell her I was in labor and that he'd let her know when we wanted her to come. About 15 minutes later I complained of needing to throw up and over the next few contractions completely emptied my stomach (in a bucket, then the toilet once we made it there). Contractions were getting really hard by this point and coming quickly. I let myself be much more vocal this labor, and moaned/whined through the contractions. Sky told my midwife to make her way over. At 9:15am, she showed up right as I was transitioning, although I didn't want to let myself believe I was that far into labor. Sky was so excited though, knowing it was only a short matter of time and trying to reassure me of that. After about 15 minutes of really difficult contractions, I started pushing against the contractions a bit, which felt good. With one contraction I had no choice but to really push and I yelled out, "I'm pushing! I can't help it!" My midwife was calm and just gently suggested that I remove my pants soon.

The next hour was the most frustrating and difficult part of labor for me. So many people had told me that the second baby always comes out in just a push or two, so when I had been pushing for nearly 45 minutes with no feeling of progress, I was so worn down, physically and emotionally. My contractions had spread so far apart, but I still felt a lot of pressure and discomfort in between. I had been in a deep squat by the side of our bed and my legs were exhausted. I was even questioning whether or not I should be pushing! I remember looking up after an extremely hard contraction and saying, "I'm so frustrated! Should I even be pushing?!" I'm sure this was comical to my midwife, but she was very kind and reassured me that I was fully dilated (there are alternative ways to tell this, BTW), and that I was incredibly close. That gave me just the motivation I needed and I announced that I wanted to get in the bathtub. I made my way into the bathroom, sat down in the tub and immediately wanted to get out. Unfortunately for me, a couple of contractions came on really quickly and I had no choice but to stay in there through them. I decided to sit on the toilet and immediately my pushing became super effective (uh, duh!). I started feeling baby move down and within just a few contractions, we could all see the bag of waters. I was propped up on the edge of the toilet and over the next two contractions my water broke and baby's head was out, face up! Turns out baby had turned posterior, which was likely the reason for the longer pushing and discomfort between contractions. Within another contraction, baby was completely out and on my belly! I felt instant relief and total euphoria that was only heightened when I saw that we had a little girl. Jude and my mother-in-law had come home right as I was pushing baby out, so while Jude didn't see anything, he did get to come and be with us immediately, which I loved. Baby Jane nursed right away and within 10 minutes or so, our new little family of four was snuggling on our bed.

Why I'm still nursing my 18-month-old at 36 weeks pregnant

Right after I found out I was pregnant and before I had completely made up my mind to do a home birth, I went and saw the group of midwives who had delivered Jude in the hospital. Jude had recently turned 1, and at some point during the visit, the subject of nursing came up. I told the midwife that I hoped to nurse Jude through the pregnancy, to which she responded that I needed to wean him by the time I was 20 weeks. It may sound extreme, but that advice was what made me decide to commit to a home birth as well as commit to nursing through pregnancy and eventually attempt tandem nursing.

You're probably thinking I'm crazy for completely disregarding a medical professional's advice. BUT IT WAS THE WORST ADVICE EVER! Not only is nursing through a pregnancy and beyond completely safe for me, but extended nursing is so beneficial for both mom and child. It doesn't take much more than a quick google search (I'm not saying you should believe everything you read on the internets, but you can probably believe articles published in medical journals) to find that out. Anyway, aside from the health/social/emotional benefits, which are pretty astounding, here is why I'm really not giving up nursing my 18-month-old at 36 weeks pregnant:

We're not ready!!

Nursing is like the oldest trick in the book when it comes to mothering. It's amazing how easily it can calm a toddler tantrum and how well it can ease your overtired little one into sleep. It's my best tool; why would I give it up?

Honestly, though, nursing while pregnant is hard. I've been really tired. It hurts. I've lost the majority of my milk supply. My belly gets in the way. It brings on contractions. But it's also the only time Jude will sit still and let me hold him. And don't even get me started on when he reaches up to touch my cheek (let's forget about the times he tries to pick my nose. It's not all perfect, people.) and pulls off to tell me, "HI!" We start and end every day on a really positive note, and I like that.

So while nursing through pregnancy isn't for everyone, it's working for us. That's enough for now. I'm out.

Girl cats

All of my days/weeks are getting jumbled together. I'm pretty sure last week was the week of awful weather. Oh yes! So much rain! Our garden is doing really well and really terribly all at the same time. How do you keep up on the weeds?! I'm embarrassed to let anyone look at our garden because it looks like we're growing grass in-between the rows. And every time I go out to take care of the jungle, Jude starts eating mud, and pulling on the zucchini plant leaves and yeah.

We also went a little crazy because the pool was closed so often too. I know, feel bad for us. And the worst part of the whole week was my hair. I've been trying this whole grow-it-out thing because I had it so short for so long. Anyway, the humidity is making me rethink the whole thing. It's one thing to have ugly hair, but it's another to have ugly hair while being pregnant and you're already feeling bad about how huge your thighs and behind get when growing a child.

On the upside, we went to Daylight Donuts for the first time when Skyler came home on Friday. I'm not sure the donuts were that great, but a little Asian lady was running the place, which means there was this awesome cat statue whose paw would wave back and forth and Jude loved it! So now I have to convince Skyler that Jude needs a room makeover: CATS! Cats, cats, cats! Speaking of Asian ladies, there is one in our ward who asked if we were having a boy or a girl and I told her we didn't know and she said, "You look like you carrying girl." And I'd say that's more reliable than an ultrasound.

Re(a)d and Black All Over

Tuesdays are the worst, people! The worst! So I'm really glad that Tuesday is nearly over.

Last week was hot. I swear it's not supposed to be this hot this early. It's not even technically summer yet. So needless to say, we did a lot of swimming last week. And by swimming, I mean we put our swimsuits on and go to the swimming pool and Jude walks around the edge of the kiddie pool with his toy cars.

Sky surprised us by coming home on Thursday afternoon. I screamed when he walked in because I thought he was a burglar (with a key)! It was awesome, but he had to head back up to Columbus Sunday night, so it wasn't as awesome as it could have been. I'll take what I can get though.

We played a lot of "Name 5" this weekend and Skyler beat me every time. By a lot! But turns out that I'm actually really good (read: happy) at losing and I feel so guilty when I win. Sky's far less gracious when he wins and much sorer when he loses, so it's all very compatible. One game he cannot and will not ever beat me at: Set.

This is all over the place already, so here we go with some more. I did not believe in pregnancy cravings last time. I thought it was just a way for pregnant women to justify eating crappy. But this time! This time I believe! My biggest craving has been for ultimate nachos and quesadillas. Preferably with some sort of BBQ sauce. Perhaps it's because I'm still nursing, but I haven't hit that point in pregnancy where I can only eat small meals. Nope. Big meals all the time. Amazing! I love being a bottomless pit! Maybe that's why this baby seems so sedentary. Food coma all the time. Lucky baby. Just kidding, I have an anterior placenta. 'Night!

A Creative Title

Last week was our first week of many with Sky gone Monday through Friday. And... it felt long. Surprise, surprise. I just have to make sure that I get out each day for something, otherwise I'll start throwing myself a grand pity party. And I'm so over pity parties.

So let's review last week. Yeehaw!

Monday we spent the evening with Jill and her boys. Her husband travels too. Jill and I have recently been mistaken for sisters, which is funny because I think the only thing we really have in common is the same hair length. I should point out that it's been all men who've commented, which makes me want to make some joke about how men aren't very observant, but I will refrain. Well, sort of.  Anyway, Jill is great except that whenever we hangout, which is a lot, I never leave on time, or even close to it, because we just have so much to talk about! You have those kinds of friends too, yeah? I hope so. Everyone should have those kinds of friends.

Tuesday I have no idea what I did. WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO MY MEMORY?? Oh wait!! My friend Cyrena (who is another one of those kinds of friends) and her boys came over for the morning!

Wednesday was ward playgroup. I like playgroup. I also happen to be in charge of it, so I really have to go or else people will probably judge me.

Thursday we went strawberry picking! Except we almost didn't make it because there was construction going on, and my GPS refused to figure out a new route so I just kept driving around and around in circles and ending up in the same stupid spot on Montgomery Road and I was so close to cursing (I don't curse, ever. Did you know that? Except one time when I was 8 or so and was walking to church with Erin and I was trying to come up with all the things that rhymed with 'witchy' and it really didn't take long before 'bitchy' came out of my mouth. Erin gasped and I felt awful. Whoops.) But once I gave up on getting to the strawberry patch and told Cyrena to pick without me, I somehow found my way. A true Christmas miracle. Jude mostly just stomped on all the strawberry plants and I honestly didn't work very hard to stop him because I just wanted to pick my strawberries in peace and he was very happy stomping. Great parenting!

Friday was Kroger day. Jude is usually pretty terrible when we go grocery shopping. By the end of the trip he's usually standing up in his seat with his arms tightly around my neck and shoulders, yelling in Arabic-French because I didn't grab any string cheese or some other convenience snack food item. This configuration makes it very difficult to maneuver an overflowing cart. Just kidding, I never have an overflowing cart. I just wanted to say that. But it IS often heavy. Anyway, I'm not asking for pity and I'm also not asking for discipline ideas. I'm just telling you what we did on Friday morning.

And then SKYLER CAME HOME! We went swimming that night and on Saturday I taught my Bradley class, practiced the organ, and Skyler got Jude a toddler swing for the tree in the front yard. Sunday was Fast Sunday, except that I don't fast because I'm pregnant and nursing and I really can't go longer than 30 minutes without eating. And now it's Monday and Sky is gone again. Until next time!

Starting in June

I've never wanted to be a day-to-day mommy blogger. It's Boring, with a capital B. But that is my life, and I'm feeling the urgency to keep some sort of record of it. So here we go.

Jude is 16 months, which feels like a combination of 16 years and 16 days. He's our child, so of course we think he's the best. He is busy, busy, busy and knows exactly how to push my buttons (unroll all the toilet paper, climb on top of the table, start the dishwasher, and pull the covers off the air vents and stuff toys/food down them - if you were wondering). He is typically super well-behaved, but can throw a pretty amazing tantrum when he feels it necessary.

For memory's sake: great eater, still nursing despite a pregnant belly getting in the way (a post for another time), stick collector, loves dogs. Oh yeah, and sooooo blond!

Skyler is still traveling each week. Starting this week he extends an extra day, making him gone Monday-Friday. We're both worn by this schedule, of course. But there is no end in sight, so we've learned to adjust and be happy apart, which is sad.

I'm 28 weeks pregnant, which basically makes me fat, hot, hungry, tired, and on the verge of wetting my pants at all times. What a life! This has actually been a far superior pregnancy to Jude's, though, so I'm not really complaining. We've thought very little about this large upcoming change (sorry, baby), which has made time fly by! We're planning a homebirth (another post for another time) and feel super solid about it. I'm teaching Bradley Method classes, which is amazing. People pay me to talk their ear off about natural childbirth in the comfort of my own home (sorry to all family members and friends who used to have to listen to me rant).

My goal is to write at least once a week. I'm writing it down to make me accountable. TTFN.

2014

I'm not going to sugarcoat anything: 2014 was the hardest year of my life. I realize that's not very impressive, as I've only had 24 years of life. Wait, am I 24? 25? I think I'm 24. Confirmed. 24.

So yeah, anyway, hardest year. Turns out that motherhood doesn't come naturally to everyone and it takes, like, at least 6 months to feel like yourself after having a baby and sometimes you have to see a sleep specialist just so you can relearn how to fall asleep in less than 3 hours at night. AND NOW YOU KNOW ALL OF MY PROBLEMS.

Well, past problems. Life is actually pretty great right now. I've read so many books this past year that sometimes I forget that I've read one and I'll get about 15 pages into what I think is a new book and think, "Wait, I think I've already read this." Do you do that, too? It's not the worst problem in the world, but it is a problem.

So now that I have you thinking that I hate being a mom, I will tell you how wrong you are. It took a few months for me to tame the anxiety that comes when you grow a mother heart, but now I'm good. I'm actually a pretty stellar mom.

Skyler still travels like 75% of the time, so that sucks, but we manage just fine. When my dad was growing up and didn't want to go to church, he was given two options: go to church happy or go to church sad. So that's my motto about hard life. I can either do it happy or do it crabby (which I choose more often than I'd like to admit), but either way I have to do it.

Glad I could end on such an awesomely cliche note.

On Postpartum Depression

I'm hesitant to write this. But if there's one thing I've been told over and over and over again throughout this experience, it is that I will be able to help others in the future. I hope that sharing this will help someone, anyone.

Throughout my pregnancy, I focused so much on labor and delivery that I had little room to think about actually caring for a baby. When I did, I imagined baby and me lounging around all day, feeding, napping, and staring at each other in pure bliss. The adrenaline from having a natural birth was going to fuel me through the sleepless nights. I remember shortly after my sister had her first child, she told me she was exhausted but had never been happier. We're sisters, so I'd have a similar experience, right?

That first week was hell. I had no appetite, no happiness and I couldn't sleep. OH THE INSOMNIA. It'd be 3am, Jude and Sky would be fast asleep, and I'd be wide awake, wishing I could go back to the life I'd had just a week earlier. It was like my body had forgotten how to fall asleep. I had never felt more lonely or overwhelmed. Which brought on the anxiety. OH THE ANXIETY. Anxiety about nursing and sleeping (for both him and me). Anxiety about anyone else holding him. Anxiety about my anxiety. Then there was the guilt. OH THE GUILT. Didn't we want a baby? Hadn't we spent thousands of dollars on fertility treatment?

I assumed all of this to be the infamous 'baby blues.' Everyone told me that the first few weeks were hard, but that it'll just keep getting easier and easier. And that was somewhat true. The second week was a little better than the first. And the third week was a little better than the second. And the fourth a little better than the third. I was sleeping ok, and while I still didn't feel happy, I didn't constantly feel sad. I was still dealing with severe anxiety, but that just meant I was a good mom, right?

I remember talking with my sister during this time.

"Do you love being a mom?!"

I lied. The answer was no. I didn't love it. But I kept patiently waiting to. Surely it was going to come soon; it was just a matter of time.

Between 6 and 7 weeks postpartum, things got worse. My anxiety reached an all time high - so much so that I couldn't think of anything else. I had a hard time following conversations and even watching movies. My ability to sleep started declining rapidly and one night I couldn't fall asleep at all. I stayed up all night long, so frustrated with myself and seriously questioning my sanity. Skyler woke up with me laying next to him in tears.

"Do you think I have postpartum depression?"

"Maybe a little bit."

I met with my midwife the next morning, where she got me started on a treatment plan. She was very down to earth and I found a lot of relief in that. It wasn't my fault. I wasn't a bad mom or a bad person. I was going to be happy again. I was going to feel like me again.

***

It's only been a short 2 months since all of this, but what a world of difference 2 months can make. I still have trouble falling and staying asleep, but I don't spend all day dreading the night. I still have bad times, but overall I feel happy. Jude makes me enjoy the days, even when he's being a little snot. It's all a work in progress. A work in progress. Motherhood.

Birth Story: Jude August

Skyler and I prepared for a natural birth using the Bradley Method. I am so glad we did; I could not have done it without the constant mental and physical support from him.

A few days before my due date I started having contractions 20 minutes apart. The next day they came 10 minutes apart and that night they had gotten to be 4 minutes apart, but were not increasing in intensity. This went on for an entire week. My mom flew in 2 days after my due date and for 3 days we did as much walking as we could handle. Contractions continued to consistently come and we were all getting a little antsy. We figured that once labor did start, I would jump right into active labor. We were right.

Around 8:45am on Sunday, January 26th, labor started. It was rather convenient, really. We'd slept well the night before and I ate a good breakfast. Contractions came at least every 5 minutes, lasting just under a minute. I wanted to labor at home as long as possible so we tried to stay busy, playing yahtzee and picking up around the apartment. After a few hours, I needed to focus through the contractions more. I spent the next couple of hours on my hands and knees or bending over the side of a mattress, Skyler pushing on my hips and lower back. I also got in the shower and labored on my side in bed for a while, but found little relief in that. I was so determined to eat lunch before going to the hospital to keep up my strength. I'm not sure it was my finest idea. "I'll probably throw that up later," I said. At 2pm, contractions were 3-4 minutes apart, lasting at least a minute. I was getting very uncomfortable. We called my midwife and told her we were headed to the hospital.

We got to skip triage at the hospital and went straight to our room. We asked them to start filling up the birthing tub and once my midwife got there, she checked me. I was disappointed to only be dilated 4cm, but glad to be 100% effaced and at a 0 station (baby was low). I got in the tub and eventually Skyler joined me. My contractions slowed down and shortened. As much as I enjoyed the break, it was overwhelming to think about how long this process was going to take. I enjoyed the sort of weightless feeling of being in the tub, but after about an hour I decided I needed to get out and start walking. My contractions immediately picked up. We walked around and around the unit, Skyler holding my hand until a contraction came. When one did, I would turn and hold on to the railing of the wall, brace myself, and Sky would push against my lower back. After about an hour of this, I got the sudden urge to push. The midwife checked me. I had gone to a 6 in two hours, but no pushing allowed. Time starts to get really hazy here. We continued walking around and around the hospital. I was getting exhausted and hardly opened my eyes from here until delivery. I started talking about needing to throw up, and on the next contraction, did just that. We were right in front of the nurses' station, so a few of them ran over and started covering it with towels. I threw up absolutely everything, which was a lot. We went back into the room and my midwife was talking about signs of transition. I kept complaining about the need to push with each contraction, so we had her check me again. Still a 6. She offered to break my water, but we decided to hold off. I sat and rolled on a birthing ball for a while, then tried out the shower again. I only lasted a few contractions in there. I came back out into the room and walked/bounced around and around. During a contraction I would brace myself against a counter while Sky pushed on my back. Every contraction I would yell out that I wanted to push and my legs would shake underneath me as I resisted. After a while of this, the midwife encouraged me to lay down to give me a rest from all the "dancing," as she called it. I reeeeally didn't want to lay down, but finally gave in. I kept Sky pushing on my back while laying on my side, harder and harder with each contraction. Contractions came one on top of the other and I just focused on breathing through them, all the while yelling about needing to push. The midwife checked me again and I had gone to a 7. While she was checking, my water broke. I got a little frantic about it. "My water broke! My water broke! My water broke!" She calmed me down, telling me everything was fine. It was around 8pm at this point. I knew things were getting close. For the next couple of hours, I labored on the bed, Skyler pushing on my back the whole time. The contractions got more and more intense, along with the need to push. My whole body was shaking. I got checked every half an hour or so and every time it was "just a few more contractions, you're almost there." Finally, after a particularly hard contraction, my midwife said, "Ok, you can start pushing. Go ahead. Push." I was shocked! It felt so much more productive to be pushing. I was in a sort of modified squat and had them bring a squatting bar for me to use. I pulled on that bar so hard my arms and shoulders were sore for days after. I don't know how effective my pushing was at first, but eventually I got into the groove and could feel baby coming down. I pushed for an hour and the midwife told me to look down to see baby's head. The midwife was great at guiding my pushing and within fifteen minutes, at 11:04pm, Jude was born. They put him right on me and I was in absolute awe. "It's a boy!" I couldn't believe we had actually done it and that baby was here.


After giving birth, I am so impressed by any female who has done it, no matter which route they took. It is hard stuff! I think it's important to have the birth that you want and plan for and I'm so grateful ours went as smoothly as it did.

 Laboring at home

 At the hospital

In the birthing tub

Looking fabulous, resting between pushing

Baby Jude

Done!

Part Three

There were a number of things that dramatically increased my mood during those short hours before our reception. The first was food. For some reason it never occurred to us during the planning stages to set aside a time to eat lunch, dinner, or even a snack. BAD MOVE. 

The second was a conversation with my dad. I don't know what it is, but dads, and only dads, often know the exact thing to say to take you from tears to a stable enough emotional state where you can effectively redo your makeup without crying it all off. That's important. Especially on your wedding day.

The third was that Snowmageddon still hadn't shown up. So that's always good.

And the last thing was that I remembered I was finally married! And to the most patient, kind and solid guy. He's pretty great. 

I know what you're thinking: where was Sky during all of this? That is a good question. He was at home feeling terrible. Don't worry, I still feel awful about it.

About 45 minutes before our reception, he picked me back up and we drove over to BYU. We finally got to experience that giddy car ride together. You know, the "I can't believe we're married" car ride. Things were finally looking up, despite the fact that we were still fully expecting no one to actually show up to the reception because of the weather. Well, "weather." 

But guess what! Snowmageddon didn't come! And people did show up! And we had a great time! We chatted with friends and danced like crazy and ate far too many macarons. Before we knew it, the reception was over and we were ready to head out. As we drove away, all smiles, I thought, Is this real? And for the first time that day, I was actually happy that the answer was yes.

Part Two

He came and picked me up. I was feeling overwhelmed and we both knew it. He told me I looked beautiful and held my hand as we drove to the temple and then again after we were both changed and waiting in a small room by ourselves. Our ceremony was lovely and just like that, we were married.

I knew that the weather was supposed to be bad that day; a storm was supposed to blow in later that evening. No big deal though, right? Right? RIGHT?

We finished up taking pictures shortly after 3pm. Our cheeks were sore from smiling and I was excited to get out of the cold and have a few hours to relax before the reception. As we headed back inside to change, Erin pulled me aside. She informed me of the incoming storm -- Snowmageddon, she called it. It was predicted to be so bad that BYU had closed its campus to give all the students a headstart out of Provo to wherever they were traveling for Thanksgiving.  Did I mention that our reception was planned for the Skyroom AT BYU?

"If you reeeeeeally want to, they'll keep it open for you, but we can just reschedule for another weekend and you guys can leave for your honeymoon right now!"

Nothing like that kind of news to get you riled up for your honeymoon.

Well, I did what any other girl would do: I cried. I remember standing in the dressing room in the temple, Erin and my mom working as quickly as possible to unbutton the 30+ buttons running down the back of my dress, sobbing hysterically. Is this real? Is this real? Is this real?

I didn't want to be that girl. I wanted to be the girl who has everything go wrong and just shrugs it off. "I was so happy and in love, nothing could ruin my day." That's what those girls say.

Sky and I took our first drive as a married couple in (mostly) silence. We were supposed to be deciding what to do, but I was still having a hard time pulling myself together. He held my hand, being his usual patient self. We pulled up to my parents' house and sat in the driveway, finally talking through our options. We could either have the reception that night, with the risk of having no one show up as well as the risk of not making it up to Sundance for our honeymoon OR we could leave for Sundance right away and postpone the reception for another night. I'm not sure how long we discussed, but we eventually decided to move forward with the reception that night -- now less than 2 hours away.

I know it was incredibly selfish, but at that point I really needed just an hour of alone time. Plus I looked like hell and needed to clean up. So yes, essentially Sky dropped me off at my parents' house right after we got married. Nice.

November 23, 2010: Part One

This is the story of our wedding day. You should know right off that it was not the best day of my life. Here we go. Part one.

Let me back up to the night before. He dropped me off around 9 and my plan was to get to sleep by 10 or so. The whole sleeping thing was looking really promising until Erin came in wanting to give me the talk. Yeah, THE talk. And then all of a sudden everyone wanted to be in on it and all I wanted to do was be asleep. Then everyone got tired and left me wide awake. So I blogged. Then, like most girls the night before they get hitched, I tossed and turned and tossed and turned and tossed and turned.

Nate made me a crepe for breakfast. I had a hard time getting it down. It wasn't bad, but it was my wedding day. After breakfast I showered, then sat on a chair in my bathroom while Sally started on my hair. At the same time, in the same bathroom, Erin was bathing 1-year-old Finn and Maureen was doing her makeup. To say it was getting tight would be, well, accurate. But it gets better. 4-year-old Mimi walked in.

"ExcUUUUUUUUse me!" She squeezed past my chair then realized there wasn't anything over there except a toilet. "ExcUUUUUUUUse me!" She squeezed back. At this point, Maureen, Erin and Finn left the bathroom, leaving Sally, Mimi and me. Things get a little hazy for me here, but I do know that things (Mimi) just kept getting louder and louder and louder and louder until Sally butted in with, "Mimi, I think Katie would like a quiet wedding morning. Let's try to give her a nice, quiet wedding morning." She hmphed and left.

But not for long! She came back! And with a pot! To bang! (It was a pot, right Sally? I swear it was a pot.) As she banged her pot on the laundry hamper she had upturned, she shouted one of the most quoted lines in our house: "LOOKS LIKE YOU'RE NOT GOING TO GET YOUR QUIET WEDDING MORNING!" And she was right. At one point I was alone in the bathroom doing my makeup when I heard the door open. A small arm reached in, flicked off the light, then slammed the door closed. As I sat on my counter in the pitch black, I thought to myself, Is this real? I assure you that wasn't the last time that thought crossed my mind that day.

The day before we got married

It seems like the day before you get married should be a memorable day. I was surprised when it wasn't. I skipped classes and went to lunch with my mom and sister. That evening, we went to his grandma's 80th birthday party. We left early because that seemed like the thing a couple should do the night before their wedding. As we drove back from the party, we talked over some final details of the next day. 

"I can't believe it's already here. We're getting married tomorrow."

He dropped me off at my house, kissed me goodnight, and that was that. My last day as Katie H.

Engaged

We were not engaged very long. 6.5 weeks to be exact. I would highly recommend it. Because guess what? Being engaged is not particularly pleasant. Make it as short as possible. Just like this post.

The Proposal

There was just one thing keeping us from being "official:" the ring. That dang ring! We sure do love it, but man was it a struggle getting it exactly how and when we wanted it. It finally came into his possession on Saturday, October 2nd. I knew this, because he told me. We were watching General Conference with his family and he had a Word document pulled up on his laptop. It's gorgeous, he typed. I knew this, too, because I had tried on the band just hours earlier. The plate of diamonds hadn't been attached yet, but it was enough to know that yes, it was going to be gorgeous.

I figured he wouldn't waste much time. He had work that afternoon, but we had plans to head up to the canyon that night. He came over and we were heading out to my car when he said he needed to grab something from his scooter. I WASN'T FOOLED FOR A SECOND! 

We took a couple of blankets to lay on (a foot in between us, of course). We chatted for a while before he sat up into a cross-legged position and pulled me up to join him. I honestly don't remember exactly what he said, but I do remember this: he said the nicest things that had ever been said to me, then asked me to marry him. I said yes. 

Here is a blurry picture that was taken that night:

And here's what I wrote about it almost 3(!!!) years ago.

Timing is hard

Well, turns out there were a few things I could wait for. Like the springtime. And being 21.

We had many discussions on timing over the next week or so. He wanted November; I wanted April/May. He didn't understand why I wanted to wait so long and I didn't understand why he wanted to rush. I was feeling a lot of pressure from his side to get married over Thanksgiving break, so I did a very selfish thing: I booked a trip to visit my sister in Atlanta for Thanksgiving. To say the least, we compromised on January and started designing the ring.

I think most newly engaged couples have the conversation that starts with, "Why don't we just elope next week?" or at least, "Why don't we move the date up a month or two?" For most, that conversation is just speculative and fun. For us, it was emotional and draining. I had realized that I didn't want to wait for January. But it was already mid-September! Well, we talked and I cried a lot and eventually we decided that November was best for us.

I was terrified to tell my parents that night, and probably for good reason. My mom was so shocked and ticked all at the same time that she said MAYBE 5 words. My dad was extremely supportive! The first thing my mom said to me the next morning was, "Please don't tell me something like that 5 minutes before I'm planning to go to sleep ever again." (Mom likes her sleep). I'm proud to say, though, that from that morning on, my mom was easily the most helpful, non-dramatic, awesome wedding planner ever. Here she is helping me pick out a wedding dress:

Coming home

I did not want him picking me up from the airport. Why, you ask? Let me tell you. WHAT DO YOU LOOK LIKE AFTER TRAVELING FOR 24+ HOURS? That's why.

He picked me up anyway. I was not happy about it.

It was a surreal feeling, knowing that neither of us was going to leave again. It was hard to grasp. Hard, but exciting.

A week after I got home, we were at a family party. One of my cousins hugged me and practically shouted, "When are you getting hitched!" The topic hadn't been brought up. Later that night, when it was just the two of us, I asked if he heard her ask me that. He laughed and claimed he hadn't. We chatted about other things and I figured we were done with the M word for the night. A while later, we found ourselves sitting in silence.

"Kate? What are we waiting for?"






I couldn't think of a single thing.