The toughest of decisions

“Crying is all right in its own way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do.”
― C.S. Lewis


6 years ago I gave birth to the most amazing little boy in my entire world. 

It was the toughest decision I ever had to make.  You're probably wondering what I'm talking about.  Just 16 short months earlier I had given birth to our first son, by emergency cesarean.  Cesaren wasn't supposed to happen to me.  As they talked about c-sections in our birthing class I would talk to the girl next to me, or look around the room or do ANYTHING but pay attention because a c-section was simply NOT happening TO ME. 

Well, after 24 hours of labor, 2 hours of pushing, and several nurses and doctors telling me it had to happen that way, I finally relented when the heartbeat of my unborn baby started going 'wonky'. 

With the deepest pain in my heart I can describe, I instructed my medical team, "get him out.  Get him out and give me my healthy baby". 

I still can't completely understand why it pained me so much.  Even to this day as I type these words I get a little misty eyed.  Giving birth was a right of passage.  And I couldn't do it.  My body failed me.  In my eyes, for the LONEST time, I wasn't meant to be a mother.  I failed to birth my baby.  Therefore, I didn't deserve him. 

The absolute high of having our first son, and watching all his milestones in amazement clouded most of these thoughts, but when he was only 7 young months old and the doctor looked at me and said, "you're pregnant!" they all came bubbling to the surface. 

The next few months were spent pouring over literature, doing the statistical analysis of what my EXACT risk of uterine rupture was to try for a vaginal birth after cesarean - a VBAC.  2% increased risk if your baby was over 8 pounds, 5% increased risk if you have less than a 18 months between pregnancies, 7% increase in risk if your baby was over 8 pounds and you gained less than 30 pounds...and the lists went on and on.  And when it came right down to who would be harmed if a rupture did occur, 90% of the time, it was the baby.  How could I calculate a risk and then put it on my baby's head? 

And my body spoke to me.  I was still sore.  My scar was still red and barely healed on the outside - how would it fair on the INSIDE under the stress and pressure of giving birth?? 

I tormented over the decision.  I went to VBAC support groups.  I bought books.  I read medical journals.  I would leave nothing to an uneducated chance.  And I prayed.  I prayed and prayed for some guidence on what I should do. 

I didn't have the confidence my body was ready.  I had just recently given birth to a 9.5 pound baby after only gaining 22 pounds in my pregnancy.  I couldn't gain less weight.  And being induced early wasn't an option. 

In the end my OB and I comprimised on the decision to have a scheduled cesarean at exactly 40 weeks.  I would not be scheduled 2 weeks early like most scheduled cesareans are done.  If I went into labor before that date, I would see it as a sign from God to go ahead and birth the baby.  If not, into the hospital for surgery I would go.  And the praying continued.  Until one night at 37 weeks the cramping started.  I was elated!!  I had gone into labor on my own.  Very small contractions every 10 minutes for an hour and a half.  I walked the house.  Paced back and forth waiting for them to get stronger.  Excited about trying for a VBAC.  When off the the sudden, they just stopped as quickly as they had started.  Nothing.  In the middle of the night in my dark house there was nothing but silence.  My heart broke into a million pieces right then and there because something inside of me knew it was going to be another surgery. 

3 weeks went by slowly.  No cramping.  No sign of baby coming out on his own.  The cesarean went by as planned.   Our baby boy came screaming into the world at 8 pounds 2 ounces.  Over a pound smaller than predicted.  We were happy to have him here safe and sound. 

But I was broken. 

The following months were painful and tormented.  Again I failed to give birth.  I failed at doing the one thing I had dreamed my entire life of doing - bringing life into the world. 

I started seeing a counsellor but quickly stopped.  Even though she was a woman, she didn't understand what I was going through.  She had two successful vaginal births, and kept telling me my babies were healthy, get over it.  I leaned heavily on my VBAC group.  These were a group of women who KNEW me and KNEW what my heart was going through. 

I did go on to have a successful VBA2C.  I felt like a celebrity in the delivery room that day.  Nurses and doctors coming in from other departments to congratulate the woman who delivered after TWO cesareans.  When someone would whisper, "she had a VBAC?"  my midwife was quick to emphasize, "a V-TWO-BAC".

I realize now that God decided to give me a vaginal birth not just to complete me as a woman, but also to show me that my scheduled cesarean was the RIGHT choice.  Giving birth was difficult.  I mean REALLY hard.  Two hours of pushing with our first son, because he did not come down far enough was NOTHING like pushing a baby all the way out. 

My body was not ready.   It needed to heal.  And my heart needed to heal too. 

Blaine I love you to the moon and back.  In my lifetime, your birth was the most tormented decision I have ever had to make.  But I made the choices I made ALWAYS with you top of mind.  You make me laugh and you make me love like I never have before. 

It's taken me time to learn, but there is NO failure in sacrificing yourself for the ones you love. 

And I love you more than words can say. 

“It does not take much strength to do things, but it requires a great deal of strength to decide what to do.”
― Elbert Hubbard

Happy Birthday Baby boy

Three years ago I gave birth to the most amazing little boy ever.  He makes me laugh.  He's a trouble maker.  He LOVES to throw things - I better get him into baseball early!  He LOVES the colour yellow.  He loves Gordon (from Thomas and Friends train).  He loves to sing and listen to music.  He really loves his older brothers - each for a different reason.  Blaine is his little buddy, Parker is the guy he gets 'rough' with. 

My life changed for many many reasons the day you were born Kiefer.  And I would never ever change a thing.  You are my miracle baby and you never cease to amaze me.  I know we have our struggles ahead, but I fought hard for you to come into this world the way I wanted, and I won, so I will continue to fight for you.  And WIN. 

I'll never forget the day.  I love you to the moon and back baby. 

Wednesday, October 14th
Daddy was in the city today for work and then went to Nana’s house for dinner.  He had a game of hockey to play at 8:15 pm and since my midwives appointment the day before showed my cervix STILL closed up tight, I told him to go play his game and enjoy.
Derek had karate that night so I had to pick him up.  Holly (babysitter) helped me get the kids all ready for bed and we loaded up everyone in the car and left just before 7 pm to pick up Derek.  On the way home from getting Derek, both Parker and Blaine fell asleep.  When we got home I carried Blaine to bed but it nearly KILLED me!  I went to the neighbors to ask if he could carry Parker to bed (at nearly 45 pounds there was NO way I could do it!)  I joked with the neighbor that if I even tried to get Parker in the HOUSE it would put me into labor!    After the neighbor left I went to the bathroom and noticed a bit more of my mucus plug had passed, but this time there was a bit of blood with it.  I called Daddy to tell him but told him there was no cramping at all so not to worry.  Everything you read says when you pass your plug it could still be WEEKS – and since just the day before I was still CLOSED up tight I didn’t think anything was happening. 
At around 8:10 pm I got a pretty strong cramp.  Stronger than the Braxton Hicks I was experiencing – but not as strong as how I remember labor feeling.  Around 8:20 another cramp – but the same sort of feeling.  Since both little boys were in bed and Derek was getting ready for school the next day, I decided to get into the tub to relax a little.  8:24 pm I had my first “this is it” contraction.  GREAT!  Daddy just started playing hockey at 8:15 – and he’s the GOALIE!!  I tried his cell phone anyways, but there was, of course, no answer.  I texted him that “I’m in labor – come HOME!” and then I looked up the number of the hockey arena.  MIRACLE among miracles someone answered the phone in the office. 
“Hi my husband Paul Birkbeck is playing hockey right now on I believe the team name is The Rock.  This is his wife and I’ve just gone into labour.”
“Oh my God,” is what I heard on the other end.  “Oh my God, do you want me to tell him to meet you at the hospital?!” 
“NO!” I replied, “I’m not driving myself there!!  Tell him to meet me at home.”
I then kept experiencing the contractions about every 7 minutes and they were gradually getting stronger.  By the time I got out of the tub half and hour later, they were now 5 minutes apart.  I called Grandma and told her she should come over to watch the boys and that Daddy would be home in 20 minutes.  Daddy came home still in his hockey gear – green sweat pants!  He looked like a leprechaun!  I told him to change and we started the drive to Scarborough.
I was a bit worried in the drive, because the contractions started to feel like they were going into my back – but I was sitting down in the car and it was very hard to move around so Daddy kept reassuring me that once I could stand up again things would be fine. 
Once we got to Nana’s house, we called the midwives.  Mommy told a little white lie saying that we lived with Nana so we could get the midwives to take on my care.  Aviva, our midwife, talked me through 4-5 contractions and said that likely it wasn’t time to go to the hospital yet, but that she would come over and check me to see where I was at.  We needed to go to the hospital once I was around 5-6 cm dialated.  I felt like I was probably around 2-3 cm. 
Aviva came in and checked me right away and gave me quite a surprised look. 
“We need to go now!  You’re 5 cm and I can stretch you to 7 cm”
The stretching was PAINFUL!  I could NOT believe it!!  I had gotten to 5 cm relatively easily.  The last time I was in labour I was SCREAMING for an epidural before 3 cm!  Granted I was having back labour last time, and that is something VERY different from normal labour. 
Aviva called the hospital and notified them we were on our way, and JUST our LUCK!  Dr. Silver was on call!!  Dr. Silver was the OB that I had a consult with at 36 weeks to see if he would support our trying for a VBA2C.  He WAS very supportive at the time but warned us that depending who was on call – we may encounter some resistance. How lucky it was that we had HIM as our consulting OB and now he was the doctor in the hospital on call! 
We arrived at the hospital and got our room and settled in a bit before walking around.  I labored for almost another two hours and Aviva checked me again only to find out I had progressed VERY little since arriving at the hospital.  I was very disappointed in this, as I wanted an ‘intervention free’ labour.  Dr. Silver checked me as well, after some heart monitoring, and said that I was barely 8 cm – only 1 cm further along than I was 3 hours ago.  Along with Aviva, they decided to break my water to see if they couldn’t get baby to come down a bit further to help things progress.  That’s when the REAL pain started.  VERY powerful contractions and I walked for a small amount, but the contractions were coming on fast and powerful.  After about an hour, I told Daddy I didn’t think I could do it, and I might need some pain relief.  He looked me in the eyes and said, “You are doing it.  Keep going.  We’re almost there.”   He was so strong and stood up to me when I wanted to give up. 
We went back to the room and I labored another hour and the contractions started to feel like they were EVERYWHERE.  My back, my entire belly, my entire body!  I told Daddy I couldn’t do it any longer.  I needed an epidural.  I couldn’t take the pain.  He told me no several times, but my body was shaking with every contraction and now they were right on top of one another – no breaks.  Daddy looked like he was going to cry.  I told him before we went into labour NOT to give in to me – to stand up to me and make me do it completely naturally but he could see how much pain I was in.  He gave in and told the midwife we needed an epidural.  She knew as well how badly I wanted to do it all by myself so she suggested she check me to see where I was and perhaps I could make it the rest of the way.
She checked me and again the surprised look.  Baby had come right down and I was fully dialated!  I was ready to push.  And as soon as she told me that, I got my first urge to push.  She told me to wait as she needed her back up midwife, Kristie, there before we were ready to push.  I stifled three contractions and then couldn’t take it anymore.  Avivia called in a nurse and I started pushing.  Shortly after, Kristie arrived and we continued to push.  I found it REALLY hard to find the “baby spot” but I knew exactly when I had it and when I didn’t.  I pushed for over an hour and was getting really tired.  With every contraction I would push 3 times and most of the time I would only get one of those three pushes “right”.  Kristie leaned in and said, “Krista I know you’re tired, but you have to dig down and find some energy to push this baby out.  Get mad.  Get the energy somehow.  You need to get this baby out with the next couple of pushes or Dr. Silver is going to have to come and vacuum him out.” 
I realized then, I had done it.  The baby was coming out vaginally no matter what!  And damn it all if I’m going to let someone use a vacuum at this point!!  I had done it all on my own and I was going to FINISH it all on my own. 
Two more contractions and 4 more pushes and the baby was out!  I SCREAMED when the baby crowned and came out.  Hey my only scream!  I think I did pretty good. 
I’ll NEVER forget (or at least I hope I never do) the feeling of giving birth.  The baby coming out of my body and INSTANTLY having a wet soggy crying baby placed on my chest.  All I could keep saying was “oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD!”  Finally I managed to say, “you’re so beautiful, we did it.”

Hurray for Handmade!! :D

Well, September is behind us now so of course we're all starting to think about that big "red and green" holiday at the end of the year.  I mean, how can we not?!  I actually took this picture in JULY.

With the hussel and bussel upon us earlier and earlier every year, this year I have decided to try to endevor to do things a little more wholesome.  Granola.  Hippy?  I'm trying to do something handmade for each person I normally buy for.  Don't get me wrong.  I still have to buy the supplies to make the gift, but for me, the true gift is the time it takes me - all the while thinking of the person I am creating it for. 

Oven mitts made for a family member a few years back. 

Yesterday I completed my first gift.  I'd post a picture...but uhm, it's a gift y'all!  This is no easy feat for me as I'm looking for work, working on my excel certification now, and taking care of all the house and kids at the same time.  Think about starting it yourself.  It doesn't have to be something big.  A handpainted frame.  A drawing.  Some cookies, or a cake.  It doesn't have to take 3 days to do, but any time you spend will mean so much more than some trinket that will (at least in this house) get lost or broken.  One of my favorite Christmas presents ever was a doll house my Dad assembled for me.  It's still at my parents house to this day.  It's not super sturdy, but knowing that my Dad took the time to assemble it for me, made it THAT much more special. 

So if I can do it, so can you!  Should we start a movement?!  :D

And that's the way the cookie crumbles...

Well, that's all I can think of right now as I start to feel my knees weaken, my spirit starts to fade and those dreaded tears just start to fall. 

I'm crumbling.  I am crumbling under the pressure.  Sometimes, life is just too much to bear and where do you turn?  Who truly understands what you are going through and what can make you feel better?

My spiritual side says, God.  Cliches like, "I was carrying you when you were too weak" come to mind, but somehow, the crumbling continues.  "He only gives you as much as you can handle".  Well someone has CLEARLY stolen my identity, because I am being reduced to a graham cracker crumb crust. 

Well what's going on, you ask?  What's NOT going on?  Family pressures and feuds, health issues with our youngest son, I'm looking for work, financial stress and in a couple of months a very expensive HOLIDAY season will be upon us.  What's going on?  Again I say, what's NOT going on?!

The straw that broke the camels back this morning was a new fight I am having with Kiefer's neurologist.  Yes, my two year old has a neurologist.  He wants us to have some of our tests done at RVH and some of them done at Sick Kids.  What is the point of this?  Does it not make sense to have all tests done at the same place under the same doctor??  Besides the fact that Sick Kids is a WOLRD reknown leader in childrens health and it's in our backyard!  Why would I go anywhere else?!

When you are already fighting a fight in getting the tests done in the first place, it weakens you when you have to fight with DOCTORS, none the less, on WHERE said tests should be. 

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.  ROAR.  Grrr.  sigh......I am losing steam. 

For anyone wondering, a 'Coles notes' on the situation is that Kiefer has been suffering minor seizures.  They are minor.  He is on medication for them (has been for almost a YEAR now with NO tests having been done...again ROAR) and I am trying my futile best to get to the bottom of the sitution.  PLEASE for the love of God do not email me and ask me a slew of questions, because honestly, that's all the information I have right there.  I've refrained from saying anything at this point because anyone who did get a little snipit of info proceeded to grill me with 20 questions, NONE of which I can answer.  TRUST ME, I WISH I COULD. 

To add to the situation, Kiefer is speech delayed.  I've had a slew of explanations thrown at me from being autistic to metally disabled.  (Is that the PC way of saying it these days...if not please forgive my ignorance)

Kiefer is my baby.  My last born.  His favorite colour is yellow, he loves to listen to music asking for songs by his names for them.  He loves Thomas the train and he LOVES to read.  He's my sun, moon and stars and Lord help the person that tries to get in MY WAY of doing what is best for my son. 

He is a normal happy boy and all I want is some freaking HELP to make him the best he can be. Why is that too much to ask???

Appointments or 'reservation' for 2?

My doctors office is in a Loblaws. And not just a run of the mill Loblaws but one of those fancy 'buy whatever you need here' ones. I'm sitting here wondering what amazing shopping opportunities I'm missing waiting for him to be ready to see me. I'm not a shopaholic. I'm just short on time. And of course as I sit I can just daydream about those stirrups and the joys that await. I'm thinking one of those little buzzing disks they give you at restaurants would be amazing here.

Your (exam) table is ready!!

Thoughts?

Keeping it in perspective

Three years ago my husband and I decided to sell our dream home.  There were a multitude of reasons why we walked away from the home we designed ourselves, but most of which was I wanted to have another baby.  I was not ready to return to the workplace full time and give up consulting.  I still wanted the job of "Mom". 

We sold our house and decided to move to Vaughan - closer to Paul's work, and maybe a nice 'halfway' point between different families.  Then, to our shock, AFTER moving out and into our new place, our old house didn't close.  The buyers walked away leaving us holding the bag for BOTH homes.  We were now living in a home half the size, no land and our dream home sat empty.  A shell of what it once used to be.  I would often go 'check up' on the house and weep as I walked from room to room wondering WHY this was happening to us.  Why was my DREAM home sitting cold and empty?? 

It was difficult.  I did cry.  I TOTALLY felt sorry for myself.  But for the most part I got through.  And I can't count how many times people would say to me, "how are you handling this so well?  How are you not freaking out or melting down like ALL THE TIME?" 

Well, 1. I did freak out.  2.  I did melt down.  No, not all the time.  My typical response, and I believed it to the core of my being, was, "I'm not spending my nights at Sick Kids.  I'm not hunched over one of my children bartering with an all powerful being that if he just takes 'everything else away from me just give me my child'.  And I'm sure there is that person in Sick Kids right now.  What good is a dream home if I don't have my children to fill it up with? 

I do have my boys.  And thankfully, they are all relatively healthy.  But today I did start to feel that "Sick Kids" stress.  I had to spend the entire day traveling to, waiting in, and travelling back from Sick Kids only to be armed with not many more answers than I had at the beginning of the day. 

It's not a serious condition.  I won't be 'hunched over' anytime soon.  But I'm starting to feel that "more than I can bare" feeling in my gut. 

As my midwife said to me minutes before Kiefer was born, "It's time to find the strength Krista.  Dig WAY DEEP down and find the strength and you (can do this)."

Let the digging begin.....

A prayer or two might not hurt either.

~k

Pruney

Been in the tub for over an hour. I think I am sufficiently pruney. Well that and my wine is all gone. :(

A small request

This is my chunky monkey.  Our little stinker!!  He is full of life and loves to laugh and smile and play.  His latest passion is Thomas the Tank Engine.  I'm sure one day in the FAR distant future, we'll miss watching those episodes.  But right now they are endless!!  :D 

First off, I want to thank any and all of our friends for your thoughts and concerns surrounding Kiefer's surgery.  Everything went off without a hitch.  I do believe there may have been a small over sight though.  No one told Kiefer he was having surgery and was supposed to take it easy afterwards.   By the same afternoon, he was jumping on the bed like the little monkey he is!

We're going down another road of health concerns with him now though.  It is nothing life threatening, nothing serious.  But any health concern is just that - a concern.  So while I don't feel comfortable unloading on the www, I do feel comfortable asking you my friends, to say a few prayers for our little monkey.  Like I said, nothing life threatening, but life 'altering' all the same. 

Thanks in advance.  Make it a great long weekend!!

Much love,
Krista

Little Bum!!

Sorry if my recent posts caused any confusion.  Apparently my little monkey man has figured out my blogging app on my phone!!  LOL

And for all of you wondering if I've lost my mind in Draw Something - he's figured out that one too. 

I've been meaning to put a post up.  Thinking of the different things I would write, but I guess Kiefer took over for me!!

Back to downloading and creating Parker's newest Birthday Invitation.  I'll post that on here when it's done. 

FAA - Facebook Addicts Annonymous

I think I should start this group.  It seriously IS an addiction for some people.  It's only been a day and I can already see the signs of the addiction.  This morning the first thing I did was reach for my phone.  I did the obligitory "slide to unlock" and instinctively my thumb went to where the Facebook icon once sat.  Nope not there anymore.  But the good news is Blogger has an iPhone app, and that is now the icon that replaces Facebook. 

Not ONE email from Facebook in over a day.  How liberating.  And instead I'm motivated to blog, to reflect on my day and MOST importantly save those precious moments that I share with my boys. 

My days at home are numbered.  While part of me is excited and anxiously awaits this new adventure, other parts of me are wanting to cling to what I know.  The safehaven of my home and the love of my boys. 

But my home will await me every night when I return, the the love of my boys I carry with me everywhere I go.  If not in anything else but in that new small orange icon on my phone.

Caught!!!

A little baking today with Kiefer. :)

Facebook Hiatus

Chances are if you're reading this, you're here because you have seen my current Facebook status announcing my hiatus. 

I'm a Facebook addict.  I know it.  Others know it, by the frequency of my posts.  I've been a stay at home mom (SAHM) while consulting for the last SEVEN years.  Seven years is an incredibly long time to be doing anything.  There are hardly any of us who can say they've been at the same job for the last seven years.  I admit, there are 'lifers' out there, but for the most part, we're in an era of change.  Moving forward, changing jobs, getting promoted.  There are no promotions staying at home.  There are also no vacation days, no sick days, no lunch breaks, no coffee breaks.  You're on call 24/7.  It's a tough job.  It's also a GREAT job.  I've seen every first step.  I've heard every first word.  I've taught milestones, witnessed them and in some lucky cases even had the chance to document them here or in photos.  I'm NOT complaining.  But I am ready to move on to the next chapter in my life. 

Facebook has been a GREAT way for me to keep in touch with the 'adult' world.  I've reconnected with old friends, I've made new friends, I've enjoyed jokes and laughs, I've shared in sadness with others - for me it has kept me sane in feeling like I was normal and there were other adults out there feeling my plight. 

The time has come, however, for me to change how I use Facebook.  Change my usage and focus on other things in life.  I love blogging.  I love writing out the days events, sharing the hilarity of my boys.  Please feel free to follow me along in life here.  I'll log into Facebook every now and then but for the most part, it will be something that is phased out. 

My focus now is going to be my career, my boys and my relationship with God. 

I hope you all keep in touch. 

Much love,
Krista

A Perfect Breastfeeding Moment

I enjoy breastfeeding.  Actually I love it.  I feel like for me, I bond with my boys, it puts me in a position to spend some real quality time with them.  It's forced me to be close to them, in a lot of instances, when a bottle would be more convenient, but then that special time would be lost.  I have breast fed for a combined total of almost 5 years.  5 YEARS I have been cuddling close with my boys and nourishing them from my own body.  I just think it's a blessing and AMAZING. 

I've had a few interesting breastfeeding moments.  I was eating a local restaurant, sitting on the inside of a booth and started nursing my first born son, under a blanket.  I was asked by the waitress to take my 3 month old to the washroom to nurse him.  I nicely replied, I'll nurse my son in the bathroom when they start serving THEIR customers in the bathroom.  Did she really expect me to feed my son where people relieve their bowels?  EW.  GROSS.

I went to the Samco toy sale when Kiefer was only 1 month old.  Of course, as we stood in the LONG line up to get to the check out, Kiefer wakes up and decides he's hungry.  One month old's do not wait.  Even for long line ups when you are 3 people away from the cash.  So I did what any mother would do, I held him close, and discreetly started nursing him - while NOT giving up my spot in line.  A woman came over to me and started commenting on how sweet my little baby was.  She started to look closer at his head and face and then quickly took a step back saying, "oh dear, I'm sorry I didn't realize you were nursing!".  I really enjoyed this moment because I hear of all the nasty comments people make about public breastfeeding and here this woman had to walk RIGHT up to me to fully realize what I was doing. 

FYI.  Some of us ARE discreet.  We don't need to remove our top and flash our boobs to the room to get some nourishment into our babies.  As a matter of fact, we want you staring at our boobs just as much as we want a PAP smear. 

My favorite, and by far, BEST breastfeeding moment happened yesterday.  Kiefer, our two year old, had to have some minor surgery.  After the surgery we were escorted to the recovery room to be reunited with our little baby.  Upon seeing us, Kiefer got really upset.  I quickly asked the nurse if I could breastfeed him and she enthusiastically said yes. 

*First great thing: she was enthusiastic about me nursing my 2 year old son. 

The 2 nurses helped us get him out of bed without tangling his IV, and they quickly whisked away his bed and brought in a BIG comfy chair for us to sit and nurse in. 

*Second GREAT thing: they were very accommodating making us comfortable to nurse. 

We sat, very comfortably, in our big chair nursing.  I was skin to skin with my baby and he was extremely content and relaxed.  Next door, however, there was another little guy, same age, who just got out of surgery, who was losing his mind.  He was crying so hard he was gagging and almost making himself sick.  We could hear through the curtain, 2 nurses and his mother trying to calm him down and get him ready to go home.  He probably could have gone home sooner, but he was so upset they really couldn't do their job and get his IV out, and do the necessary paperwork.  We heard the nurses say they were just going to leave him for a bit and maybe he would calm down with just his mother there.  They started to walk away and all of the sudden they were in our curtained room.  The two nurses both let out a sigh almost in unison and then one of them exclaimed, "it's so peaceful in here" motioning to me nursing my son. 

****AWESOME MOMENT****

THIS is the sort of moment that should be portrayed on the cover of a national magazine.  Extended nursing is not freakish.  It's not SO granola (I should know...there's not much else about me that is 'granola').  It's NOT abnormal.  It IS normal and natural.  God made my body this way for a reason.  And that reason has never been more apparent in that small moment.  My baby, my 31 month old boy, was resting calmly, happily and was TOTALLY reassured that I was there for him.  His blood pressure was normal, his heart rate strong but easy and he was exactly as the nurse stated, "peaceful".  All this with the simple act of nursing him. 

Our nursing relationship is slowing coming to an end.  I'm so happy we held on long enough to have this moment.  In 5 years of nursing, this will forever be my favorite moment. 

I only hope other's can come to accept extended nursing as a natural and 'peaceful' process like the nurses we encountered did. 

I'm not perfect in my mothering, but my love is made perfect by mothering.

I'm not a perfect mother.  I've yelled more times than I care to put a number to.  I've said words I wish I could take back.  I've let my patience disappear and I've missed moments and opportunities to learn and grow and teach. 

I've functioned on so much less sleep than I ever thought humanly possible.  I've eaten foods colder, soggier and just downright gross-er than I ever thought imaginable.  I have wiped away snot with my bare hands.  I've kissed boo boos, I've read stories and tucked in not only little boys, but teddy bears and stuffy's too.  I've cleaned poop out of areas and creases that I didn't know existed on the human body. 

I have given up my own identity to build the identity of my sons.  I have never flinched or doubted my decision. 

I have loved more deeply, more fiercely than I ever, EVER thought possible.  I now know what 'run into a burning building to save them' kind of love is all about.  I finally 'get' John Q. 

I am NOT perfect.  But there is no other love that my boys could receive that is more perfect than the love I give them.  The love of their mother. 

And boy am I lucky I got all of that from my mother too. 


Happy Mothers Day to ALL my mother friends out there. 

Squeeze em a little tighter tomorrow, and make sure you hug your Mom.  xo

6 am wake up call

I recently decided that I would actually take charge of my days.  Lately, I've been feeling like the day happens to ME, more than I actually take control of the day. 
I started out by making a list of all the things that I wanted to accomplish on a daily basis.  Things that would make me happy.  Believe it or not, at the top of the list was "make the kids bed and straighten their rooms".  Heeeeelloooo OCD.  I've missed you. 

Another item actually IN my list was "do kids hair, teeth and my OWN".  Yes in bold caps, OWN.  Wow.  Imagine, doing my own hair (and by doing I am referring to more than a quick brush and thrown back in a pony tail) every morning and feeling like a human as I walk out the door.  2 hours of studying, 1 hour of working out, 2 hours of cleaning, working on business and sewing all found their way on my list.  Now what is the EARLIEST I can accept waking up?  Hmmmm, tough one seeing as I am NOT a morning person.  As I reviewed my list I noticed, that's a lot of hours I'm looking at there. 

So 6 am this morning (okay okay, it's day 1, I admit it, it was closer to 6:30 this morning!) I was up and dressed in work out clothes (I had set out the night before) and down busting a move with Cee-Lo on the elliptical.  Showered and getting Kiefer up to nurse and ready to help the boys by 7:30.  Not bad!! 

Amazingly, the morning went SO smoothly.  Even got a Costco run in, with two children in tow, before NOON!!  I'm even finding time to write a blog entry!!!  Yay for scheduling!!!!!! 

I've still got 40 minutes left of my study time, dinner planned and ready to go!  We'll see how the afternoon pans out, but so far, I'm liking this TAKE charge attitude I've found. 

Huh?! Who knew I had to project manage my own life?!?! 

I will never be a size 2

I will never be a size 2 and I'm okay with that. 

My "heathy slim" weight is 155 pounds - and I'm okay that I'll never be 105 pounds. 

When I am 'in shape' that's exactly what I have - SHAPE. 

I have above average sized thighs...even at my skinniest.  To the point that I have to buy the pants to fit the legs and alter everything else.  When I'm at my healthiest and strongest I can leg press more than my husband.  (True story!)  I love it when this happens. 

When I'm 'in shape' I can run 5 km in less than half an hour.  There is just as much bounce in my boobs as there is in my step.  When I'm really REALLY in shape, I'm still a C cup. 

When I'm in shape I feel like I can conquer the world.  I'll still be bigger than any model, but look out, cause when I'm in shape, I can kick your ass. 

The New Brownie Pan

I'm pretty excited as just last week I got my new shipment of all Pampered Chef's spring products!  One of the products I was REALLY hoping on getting was the new brownie pan. 

Individual brownies for EVERYONE!  I was very happy to find this pan in my box of new spring products!!  So to the BACK of my baking cupboard I had to go to dig out a VERY special bag of chocolate. 

Enter Bernard Callebaut.  Any party with my good friend Bernard is a good one. 

This chocolate is so rich and decadent, I only bring it out for very special occasions - and what's more special than FREE Pampered Chef products?!  :D  The pan comes with a brownie "recipe" that calls for a boxed mix but when you've got Bernard, a box mix just won't cut it.  I whip out my favorite cookbook and get to making the brownies.  This particular recipe makes a dough that ends up almost like fudge - and you could probably eat it just like fudge!

I sometimes try to 'fake' it around here with my new Scentsy warmer.  The kids come home from school and want to know what I've been baking.  Tee hee.  This time, the sweet chocolately smell filling the house is REAL.  And the kids are missing it while they are sleeping!  :( 

Just as I thought I couldn't wait any longer the buzzer went off!!  Yay!!!

Perfect and DELICIOUS!!  I topped my brownie off with a blueberry sauce to add a bit of zing to the chocolate. 

Would you like a brownie pan of your own?  Or maybe just my AWESOME recipe for homemade brownies?!  Shoot me an email and you too can be enjoying this amazing brownie!!  :D



NOT AT FAULT!!!

I have to now post a statment saying that Intact Insurance DID ultimately listen to me, and took my word for the truth and combined with my statements, evidence consisting of pictures and police report, along with talking to the officer involved, they have issued a judgement of NOT AT FAULT.

I have to say, we've had a really good go of things with Intact and while I was uncertain there for a bit, they came out on top with me.

Thank goodness the truth was finally revealed. 

Tired of companies taking advantage

More and more these days I am hearing of big companies taking advantage of the little guy. 

Again, just my luck, I had someone SCREW me over.  Snow blowing the driveway this morning, with my already finiky snow blower, and I ran over a newspaper.  Like REALLY?!  Unwrapped.  Wasn't there at 6:30 pm last night but even with the snow, my carrier had the BRAINS to think I needed a frozen or otherwise sopping wet newspaper - in the middle of my driveway.  Only at this point, it was buried under a foot of snow!! 

So of course, it clogged the auger and the snowblower was screwed.  Well it wasn't just stuck in there, it was wedged in so deep it took cutting it with a saw out - and an hour and a half of labour!! 

Delivery policy states: papers are to be delivered as close to the front door as possible to keep dry from the elements.  (Right from the handbook they give carriers!) 

SOOOOOO, here's MY letter to them!!!

January 18, 2012

Jennifer Harris

Manager of Distribution          

Barrie Advance

21 Patterson Road

Barrie ON  L4N 7W6

Dear Ms. Harris:

This letter is to complain about service I recently received from The Barrie Advance delivery carrier for my area.

This morning, after the tremendous snowfall we endured last night, I naturally fired up our snow blower to plow our driveway.  It was more than a shock to me when half way finished my driveway my snow blower refused to work.  I turned it off and noticed that there was a newspaper stuck deep in the blades of the plow.  I could not remove it as best I tried.  At that point, I called a family member to come over and see if we could resolve the problem on our own. 

The newspaper was so deep in the plow that a repair company had to be called and the front of the blower taken apart to remove the paper.  What good is a newspaper soaked on my driveway going to do me?  It certainly would not be legible to read if I HAD found it under the 14 inches of snow we had in our driveway.  I understand that it is carrier policy to deliver newspapers on the front step of customer’s homes.  Certainly with the weather we’ve been having delivering a newspaper, unwrapped, to a driveway proves useless. 

I have included an invoice for the company that came and fixed the snow blower, along with a piece of the paper that was pulled from the auger, showing last night’s date.  As of 6:30 pm last night when I arrived home, there was no paper in my driveway.  I expect that you will take care of this repair seeing as The Barrie Advance is culpable due to delivery regulations not being adhered to.

I expected a much higher level of service from your company, and I am quite disappointed. Because I do not want a repeat occurrence of this sort, I am requesting delivery of the paper be terminated immediately, and I expect a full refund for my repairs.   I will be informing my friends and family about this experience.

Sincerely,

Krista Birkbeck

So frustrated, tired and just downright sad.

I'm not normally a 'woe is me' sort of person.  Or at least I sure HOPE I don't come across that way, but today, this week, is really one of those weeks. 

I was in a car accident over the holidays.  I was travelling northbound on hwy 400 in the center lane when a burgundy van in the right hand slow lane veered into my lane.  I moved over slightly to try and accomodate him while laying on my horn.  He continued to travel into my lane, hitting me and knocking me into the fast lane - into another car - of course. 

We all pulled over to the side of the highway and got out to make sure everyone was okay.  The damage for the most part is minimal.  The burgundy van guy says we should not call the cops and just exchange information.  I am mostly concerned at this point at being at the side of a very busy highway in bad road conditions.  (It was snowing quite heavily, and already dark).  We told him we ARE going to call the police and ask if we can travel to the next exit and deal with it there.  I myself called 911 and they transferred me to the police and the police informed me travelling to the next exit was fine. 

ALL THREE of us travelled to the next exit and got off.  The burgundy van guy gets out and asks me why I swerved into his lane.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!  I asked him if he heard my horn and for a split second he said yes, but then quickly changed his answer to no.  Of course.  Why would I honk if I were veering?  I WOULDN'T.  So he HAS to say he didn't hear it. 

For some reason, his car has no apparent damage.  Keeping in mind, its dark, snowing heavily, and he has a dark vehicle.  The OPP arrive, and barely look at his vehicle, barely talk to him and LET HIM GO.  The cop doesn't REALLY listen to my story, doesn't even LOOK at the damage on the right hand side of my car and hands me an incomplete report.  No accident details, only the information of me and the person I was knocked into. 

The person I was knocked into says he didn't see the first vehicle - of course because I was between him and the other vehicle. 

So now, my insurance company is placing ME at fault.  I did have an at fault accident in April of this year, so 2 at fault accidents (okay with a couple of minor speeding tickets) equals....drum roll please.....

NO INSURANCE FOR KRISTA. 

Facility.  That's who will take me.  At a whopping $10K a year. 

Do I lie down and accept that?  NO, of course not.  I march my butt down to the OPP office, two kids in tow, and ask to speak to a supervisor. 

"What's this concerning?"

"An accident I was in."

"Well you can only speak to the officer who took the report."

"But it's that officers actions that I want to complain about."

"Well you can talk to that officer and ask him why he let the other car go"

"Well then let me speak to your supervisor"

"No" she says from behind her bullet proof glass.

"Okay then I want to speak to the chief of police"

HUGE EYE ROLLING.  "haha, NO.  You can request the officer who was at the scene to call you back.  That's it."
She walks away. 

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!?!?!!!!!

Talk to insurace adjuster.  He heard my story once.  Doesn't understand why the other vehicle is not on the report.  And the LOVELY man I got pushed into simply 'forgets' to mention the third vehicle.  AWESOME. 

NO ONE IS LISTENING TO ME.  I have damage on my right side.  How hard would I have to hit someone in the slow lane to bounce all the way over to the fast lane and hit him?? Is it not more plausable that I was already near the fast lane when I got bumped?  And the MINOR damage I have would tend to support that.  If I was in the slow lane and hit him hard enough to bounce over to the fast lane, woulndn't I have more damage?  And SURELY he would have some too.  But he doesn't.  Because I was already in the leftmost part of my lane to try to avoid an accident.  One little bump was all it took to get me into the fast lane. 

WHY CAN NO ONE ELSE SEE THIS?????

And Paul cannot be a witness for me.  It keeps getting better!!

So today I called a lawyer.  I just cannot be put into Facility insurance for FIVE years at $10K a year because someone LIED.  If it was my fault, I would be kicking myself, really annoyed with myself and say, "well you deserve it" but how and why do I deserve someone to LIE about something and get screwed because of it. 

Is that what the world is coming to?  Insurance says if two stories differ, both parties are at fault.  So the moral of the story is, if you have an accident and you're at fault, just lie about it because then, at least you're only partially at fault.  And if you're really lucky, if you lie to the same cop I got, he'll just let you go.

GRRRRRRRRRRR.

<end rant>