Womanhood: One Man's Perspective

      Usually these posts are made by Rachel about different updates on our family or different things she has been learning and thinking about.  Today, you get a special treat as I’m (Stephen) going to write about what has been on my mind lately and that topic is womanhood. I think there were a number of reasons God decided to make Eve a helpmeet for Adam. I think one of those reasons is that God knew that if He left Adam alone for too long to manage the earth then it would probably be on fire in 5 seconds. Likewise, my wonderful wife keeps me in check as well, even though she sometimes wonders if she has three kids instead of two.

     Elder Jeffery R Holland said in the October 2005 general conference to the young women, which applies to women of any age, “First of all, I want you to be proud you are a woman. I want you to feel the reality of what that means, to know who you truly are. You are literally a spirit daughter of heavenly parents with a divine nature and an eternal destiny. That surpassing truth should be fixed deep in your soul and be fundamental to every decision you make as you grow into mature womanhood. There could never be a greater authentication of your dignity, your worth, your privileges, and your promise. Your Father in Heaven knows your name and knows your circumstance. He hears your prayers. He knows your hopes and dreams, including your fears and frustrations. And He knows what you can become through faith in Him.”

     Ladies, it is time that you wake up to who you really are and never forget it! It makes me sad to see the “mommy wars” and other things like it going on all the time.  I observe what seems to be a constant battle between knowing and appreciating who you are along with being happy with yourself and how the world and today’s media portrays how you should be.  Elder Holland said in the same talk, “One would truly need a great and spacious makeup kit to compete with beauty as portrayed in media all around us.” How the world portrays beauty and what real beauty is are two completely different things! You are beautiful just as you are no matter what shape, size, or color you come in!  I really liked this quote about where beautiful people come from by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross: “The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.” It is time to stop fighting the wars of “who wore it best,” who has the better hair, dress, or makeup.  It is time to stop comparing yourselves to others and appreciate your own beauty. It is time to start giving genuine compliments and uplifting others around you.

     I know motherhood is hard and there are many women out there who haven’t had that blessing yet. Know this: whether now or in the eternities that blessing can become yours in the Lord’s due time. It is time to stop the “mommy wars” and really appreciate every woman and mother for who they are.  Your success and worth as a mother isn’t determined by who has the cleanest house, whose kids are best dressed or behaved, or who has the most pins on Pintrest or Pintrest-like projects going on at home. Motherhood is hard and you do it day in and day out with little to no breaks. I know I couldn’t do it.  Anytime Rachel is gone for an extended amount of time and I’m left alone with my boys I am always very grateful and happy when she comes home.  I know I go to work every day outside the home, but she’s doing as much or more work in our home.  I know I couldn’t do it so I am so very grateful for a wonderful wife that can.  Elder Holland said in his talk, “Because She is a Mother” the following: “Moved by that kind of devotion and determination, may I say to mothers collectively, in the name of the Lord, you are magnificent. You are doing terrifically well. The very fact that you have been given such a responsibility is everlasting evidence of the trust your Father in Heaven has in you. He knows that your giving birth to a child does not immediately propel you into the circle of the omniscient. If you and your husband will strive to love God and live the gospel yourselves; if you will plead for that guidance and comfort of the Holy Spirit promised to the faithful; if you will go to the temple to both make and claim the promises of the most sacred covenants a woman or man can make in this world; if you will show others, including your children, the same caring, compassionate, forgiving heart you want heaven to show you; if you try your best to be the best parent you can be, you will have done all that a human being can do and all that God expects you to do.”

     Speaking of trying to be the best parent you can be, we need to have more compassion towards other people, especially if their ideas are different than ours.  Just because someone else does something in a different way than you it doesn’t make it any less valid or important.  For example, the debates that go along with child birth.  If someone chooses to have a baby without an epidural, or with an epidural, or in a hospital, or in a home…it doesn’t matter!  I know there are strong opinions about birth and this isn’t meant to be a political statement but more of a statement on the miracle, beauty, and privilege bearing children is.  Instead of criticizing or judging someone for doing it in a way that is different than how you believe it should be done, celebrate it! Each and every birth is valid, important, and a blessing to each couple that has one.  They need to be celebrated more and criticized less. We need to end the if you do this or don’t do that then you’re a terrible person and will kill or severely maim or emotionally damage your child dialogue because it simply isn’t true and can bring immense shame and guilt.   We also need to give people the benefit of the doubt and believe that they are making the best decision for their children or family when it might be different than how we would do it.  This goes for whether you choose to vaccinate your child or not, whether you circumcise your child or not, whether you home school or have your kids go to public school, if you breastfeed your children or not and a myriad of other hot topic issues that get widely debated.  There needs to be more kindness, more compassion, more love, and less criticism and judgment.

     The world has a way of attacking you in any and every way possible.  It is Satan’s goal to destroy us, make us miserable, and take as many people down with us as possible.  I believe (not to discredit the part of the father in the home) that if Satan can destroy the mother then it is much more likely that he can destroy the whole family with it.  Satan wants you to believe that you’re not pretty enough, not smart enough, not skinny enough, not good or strong enough, a failure at motherhood and everything else in life.  Don’t listen to that garbage, it isn’t true!

     Elder Dieter F Uchtdorf said in his October 2008 address, “To me it appears that our splendid sisters sometimes undervalue their abilities—they focus on what is lacking or imperfect rather than what has been accomplished and who they really are…If that is how you feel, think again, and remember that you are spirit daughters of the most creative Being in the universe. Isn’t it remarkable to think that your very spirits are fashioned by an endlessly creative and eternally compassionate God? Think about it—your spirit body is a masterpiece, created with a beauty, function, and capacity beyond imagination…You may think you don’t have talents, but that is a false assumption, for we all have talents and gifts, every one of us.  The bounds of creativity extend far beyond the limits of a canvas or a sheet of paper and do not require a brush, a pen, or the keys of a piano. Creation means bringing into existence something that did not exist before—colorful gardens, harmonious homes, family memories, flowing laughter.

     My dear sisters, I have a simple faith. I believe that as you are faithful and diligent in keeping the commandments of God, as you draw closer to Him in faith, hope, and charity, things will work together for your good.  I believe that as you immerse yourselves in the work of our Father—as you create beauty and as you are compassionate to others—God will encircle you in the arms of His love.  Discouragement, inadequacy, and weariness will give way to a life of meaning, grace, and fulfillment. As spirit daughters of our Heavenly Father, happiness is your heritage.”

    Remember, you are amazing just as you are.  I am so grateful to have such a wonderful wife as I do.  I often ask myself and ponder what I must have done to have been blessed with such an amazing woman.  I am often reminded that the Lord saw fit to bless me with her, in-spite of me and my own shortcomings.  Rachel truly is so patient, kind, compassionate, and supportive of me.  She is the most beautiful woman I know and is such an example to me.  She is a wonderful mother to my two little boys and works hard every day to teach and raise them.  I know it and the Lord knows it.  Is she perfect a perfect person, wife, and mother?  No, she’s not.  Does she have down days, stressful times, ornery stretches, and trials of her own?  You bet she does, just like we all do.  But that is what makes her beautiful and I love her all the more for it.

New Years Resolutions and Changes

For almost the last 3 years, up until two weeks ago, I have either been pregnant or nursing. I'm not going to lie: it feels FANTASTIC to have my body back to myself! That being said, I used to run and loved it. Then I had babies and my body sort of broke and I figured my running days were over. Well, Stephen and I had decided that it would be fun for us to make a New Year's resolution together -something we can work on together, cheer each other on with, and spend some quality time together on. Missing running so much, we decided to train together for a half marathon in June now that my body is baby-free!

I have never run more than 7 or 8 miles at any one time, but I am super excited to take on this challenge! Call me crazy, but pre-baby running was extremely liberating for me. Not having been in running shape in about 3 years, I was worried about how I'd feel about it once I got training. But, as slow as I am, I am happy to announce that it is still very liberating!

Stephen and I bought a double jogger and have taken the boys for a few runs in it. Benjamin squeals with excitement. I think my little high-adventure toddler likes the speed. Too bad Ian hates it and screams nearly the entire time. Oh well. Hopefully he'll get used to it soon.

The Palmer family has an exciting year ahead! Stephen will graduate with his Masters of Social Work degree in April and we will -finally- get to move on from the poor-college-student life! Well, sort of. We'll still be poor for a while, haha. But Stephen has taken his licensure exam and passed! This means we can start applying for jobs and looking for housing!!! I'm pretty restless here. I don't know if it's Provo, the college-student life, our tiny apartment or a combination of the three, but I am SO ready to move on! I have even been apartment/house hunting, even though we have no idea where we'll end up yet. I am eager and I am a little excited :D

Aside from those kinds of changes, I am also finding my attitude and perspective changing, particularly in having two little kids so close together. Benjamin and Ian are 15.5 months apart. You don't have to tell me that's crazy, because I know it is and I have felt the crazy many, many times. People sometimes tell me that I'll hate it now, but in five years I'll love it because they will be best friends. But, I'm loving it now (feel free to call me crazy again). Sure, those first few months after we brought Ian home were brutal and I thought my life was over, but as I watch my two little boys growing up together, I can't help but be grateful now for many reasons.

For instance, we were visiting grandma and grandpa Palmer one weekend and while Stephen was off running an errand, I sat on the floor with my boys while a show was on, waiting for him to get back. I had my legs out, both boys sitting in my arms and up against my stomach side-by-side. Without warning, Benjamin suddenly turns and looks at Ian, wraps his arm around his shoulder, plants a kiss on his head, and then lays his head on Ian's tiny shoulder and goes back to watching the show. My heart melted.

I will often leave the boys together in one room of the apartment to run and do something else in another room and when I return, I usually find something like this:

No doubt he loves his baby brother, and it makes me unbelievably happy that he has a little buddy to grow up with.

Benjamin loves to help me feed and burp Ian. He loves to tickle Ian's bare tummy as I'm getting him dressed in the mornings. He loves to splash in the bathtub with his brother and play alongside him. But perhaps his favorite thing is when he hears Ian waking up from a nap. He'll go running down the hall and burst through their bedroom door squealing "Hello, baby!"

I'm a happy Mama.

Answered Prayer

Before I say what I really wanted to say, I need to give you a little background on what my morning was like today.

We had to wake up early so that Stephen could get our car, which had died again, into the shop before heading off to work. We prayed that the fix wouldn't be too expensive and that we would still be able to take our much-needed-get-away to Rexburg this weekend. I told Stephen that I was going to run away if we ended up not being able to take that trip. He encouraged me to. Anyway, so we got Benjamin up and discovered that he had soaked his pajamas over night -again- and scrambled to get him into the tub.

See, our mornings are always crazy. Always. Both boys wake about the same time and demand that their needs be taken care of first, oblivious to the needs of their brother and their parents. Of course this is pretty typical at their young ages, but it sure makes getting everyone up and going difficult and stressful.

After Benjamin is bathed and both boys are fed, Stephen leaves for the shop and my day as stay-at-home mom begins.

I actually really love being a stay-at-home mother and I am convinced that nothing else in the world could be as fulfilling for me, but sometimes I find myself wondering what life would be like to be able to shower and get ready in the mornings again. It seems like an impossible dream right now...

So both boys are fed and generally pretty happy, so I'm happy. Benjamin gets down on his hands and knees, looks back at me, and says "Please!" This is code for "Mom, I would love it if you got down on your hands and knees too and chased me around." I thought about the bruises and carpet burn on my knees from previous chases that were finally healing, but of course I couldn't tell him no. While down on the floor chasing Benjamin, I became acutely aware of the need my kitchen has of a broom and mop and wondered when I'd have time to clean it. Probably not for another week, if we were being honest. My play time with Benjamin ended too soon when Ian started crying to be fed again. Of course Benjamin started crying, and for the millionth time since I became a mother I felt loads of guilt. I wondered if my short spurts of quality time with Benjamin would be sufficient to communicate to him how very much I loved him and prayed that it would, but still worried it wouldn't.

After I got Ian fed and down for his morning nap, my stomach reminded me that I hadn't had breakfast yet and I felt more guilt as I sat down to eat. And there I was in my oversized, stretched out pajamas, my hair matted and gross, and old makeup smudged under my eyes, eating a bowl of cereal. Benjamin came over begging for my food. The selfish part of me wanted to say, "You just ate. It's mommy's turn, so go away," but of course I didn't. I offered him some. As I watched my little boy crawl around on the kitchen floor taste-testing the crumbs, my heart was once again suddenly heavy with my responsibilities as his mother. I was overwhelmed with the thought about all the things I needed to teach him.

 I thought about how he had tried to throw a toy car at Ian earlier this morning and wondered how I could teach him about kindness and compassion towards his brother. How do I teach him about love? How do I teach him about selflessness and consideration of others? How do I teach him how to dress himself? How to clean up after himself? How to share? How do I teach him which things he can touch and which things he cannot? How do I discipline him? How do I show him how to eat neatly, to use manners and be polite? How do I instill in him a love for learning? How do I teach him about respect? How do I teach him how to protect himself physically and spiritually? The questions went on and on and I felt more and more overwhelmed. And deep down, a quiet fear stirred inside me. A fear that I was inadequate.

The thought then occurred to me that I hadn't prayed yet that morning and I sighed at my failure to have made that a priority. I've been trying to figure out how to get a sincere morning prayer in with our crazy mornings and I haven't been able to figure it out yet. My brain is still too asleep to do it right when I get up and before I get the boys going. I've tried to shut myself in the bathroom, but Benjamin always finds me and pounds on the door until I open it. Sighing again, I prayed there at the table, eyes opened to make sure Benjamin didn't inhale anything detrimental to his health.

I quietly prayed that all of my efforts to teach my children and to show them that I loved them would be magnified and be made enough.

I have a firm testimony that the Holy Ghost, when we live worthy of it's companionship, has the ability to bring things to our remembrance that are needful for that time, and that is what happened to me this morning while I was at the table. Ever so gently and quietly, I remembered a talk I had heard long ago about the importance of teaching children. The thought that had stuck with me the most was this: the most important things you can ever teach your children is about their identity as a child of God, the love of their Savior, and the gospel. The Holy Ghost testified to me that that was my most important responsibility, and that if I do all I can to teach my children those things, then everything else they need to know will fall into place. I felt immediate relief and peace.

Of course all of those other things are important and will help to shape the character of my children and they should therefore not be neglected, but God reminded me this morning of what was most important, and that if I made the most important things my focus, He could help me do the rest. He also reminded me that all He requires is my absolute best, even if that best doesn't look like much and changes from day to day. How grateful I am to know that I am not in this parenting business alone, and because of God's grace, any imperfection I may have in raising my children can be compensated.

Ian's Birth Story

Most people already know that my delivery experience with  Benjamin was horrific, ending in a very painful cesarean and long recovery. Upon discovering that we were again expecting, I was determined to make this delivery experience more positive- however the baby actually arrived. After many months of research, we decided to try for a VBAC, or vaginal birth after cesarean, as well as to hire a doula.

Along with hiring our doula, Marcie, I wanted the right doctor for us and was willing to spend time hunting around and switching clinics where I received maternity care to find one, which is exactly what we did. We settled on a group midwifery practice in Pleasant Grove and loved our choice. I especially resonated with one particular midwife, Claudia, and went out of my way to schedule my appointments with her. She believed in the body's ability to birth, and most importantly believed in my ability to birth. She was extremely encouraging, unbiased, and was willing to listen to my ideas and concerns. I just knew I HAD to have her with me come delivery day and asked her about the probability of being on call around the time I was due. She pleasantly surprised me by giving me her cell phone number and the instructions to call her personally when I believed I was in labor and she'd see what she could do.

Well, I had been dilated to 3 cm for almost 2 weeks when I had my routine weekly check-up on July 9th and discovered that I was now dilated to 5 cm- all without any regular contractions. This was very surprising to us since with Benjamin I was at the hospital with an epidural in place at this point in my labor with him. Still, we tried to wait patiently at home for things to get going. On July 11th at about 2 pm, my water broke at home, but still no contractions. I notified Claudia and Marcie and continued to wait. Despite the inactivity, Stephen decided to come home early from work anyway as Claudia warned us that labor would probably progress rapidly for me once things did get going.

Once Stephen got home, we made sure our hospital bags were ready and then loaded up Benjamin and our stroller in the car to go for a walk around the track at the BYU campus. Once we got walking, contractions came almost immediately. I spent a good chunk of time on the phone with Marcie as she coached me through some contractions and told me what to be looking for with intensity and frequency before heading to the hospital. Although contractions were only 2 minutes apart, some even less than that, they were only lasting as long as 30 seconds or less. Since I was determined to labor outside of the hospital as long as possible and was afraid of going in too early, and my contractions weren't yet nearly as long as the "textbooks" say they should be, I refused to believe I needed to go into the hospital yet, even though Claudia advised going in. Yea, not smart, I know.

I gave my mom the go-ahead to head on down from Salt Lake so she could pick up Benjamin, confident that we still had plenty of time at home for her to make the 45 minute commute down to our place. I was wrong. Stephen and I got home from the track and got dinner on the table (I was going to eat before we go if it was the last thing I did!) when I had this urge to push. This frightened me enough to realize that maybe I should have listened to Claudia after all, go figure. I started yelling "We need to go! We need to go!" and frantically ran around. Since my mom was not yet here, Stephen ran Benjamin over to a neighbor's, told my mom where to find him, and we took off.

We opted to deliver at the American Fork hospital even though there are 2 other hospitals closer to us, so we had an at least 15 minute drive ahead of us. We chose American Fork because they had the most friendly reputation for VBAC's and mother and newborn comfort.

Once on the freeway, Stephen was going 95-100 miles an hour, weaving in and out of traffic, once completely running a red light. My contractions were now very painful and close together, so I was hollering pretty good as a result of the pain and fear with Stephen's crazy driving. Once we got to the hospital, we rushed into the main entrance and I scrambled into a wheelchair, still vocalizing my discomfort. The cute little receptionist at the information desk flew out of her seat to rush over to help us. The scene was seriously like one of those dramatic and falsified scenes of labor that you see in the movies, which was, later on, actually pretty funny since it was real.

We got up to the labor and delivery floor where the hospital staff guessed at who I was; Claudia had called and had given them a heads up that I was coming in. One said, "Are you that gal whose water broke at home?" Everyone seemed so laid back and relaxed and I couldn't help thinking, "This is serious business! I feel like I'm dying here. Quit the small talk and let's get going!" Thankfully those thoughts never made it passed my lips.

Once in my room, I was given one of those super flattering gowns to change into. Since everyone in American Fork was in labor that night (it's about 6:30 pm at this point), the hospital staff was super busy and no one came in to see me for a bit. Marcie arrived shortly after I got changed, and thank heaven she did. She says I was coping really well, but I certainly didn't feel like I was. Marcie worked her doula magic and jumped right in and started coaching and helping Stephen coach me through each contraction, as well as applying counter-pressure to my lower back and hips. She helped remind me to relax when I'd tense up at an oncoming contraction, was quiet through my contractions (Which I really appreciated! I wanted to yell at the nurses and doctors who kept asking me questions and such when it took all I had to make it through each contraction), and encouraged me in between contractions. Her support was amazing and convinced me to hire a doula with each subsequent pregnancy. What I appreciated most, however, was how she enabled Stephen to be my main source of comfort and support. He was truly incredible. If he were ever unsure, nervous, anxious, or tired I never knew it. He sole focus was guiding me and he'll never truly know how very much I needed that.

By some miracle, Claudia was able to come in to be my nurse midwife that night (I could have burst into singing, I was so happy and feeling so blessed to have the perfect support team) and came in to check on me. I was dilated to 6 cm, which was slightly discouraging since I was already in so much pain and discomfort and had hoped it meant I was closer to the end. Although planning on an epidural, I wanted to labor without one as long as I could and felt like I could go a little longer. Around 8:00 pm I was ready for that epidural; I had made it really close to transition (7 cm) without medication! To those amazing women who go all the way without medication, that maybe doesn't seem like a great feat, but for me it was very empowering. I certainly got farther than I ever thought I could! And that was exciting for me.

About 9:00 pm, Ian's heart tones are beginning to drop at alarming rates and the OB (Dr. Allen) who is backing up Claudia has entered the room to closely monitor things. I was just anxiously waiting for the talk of a cesarean to start. I would have been okay with another cesarean had my baby have really needed it, but I just wanted that fair chance of looking at other options, if safe, for a natural delivery. Thankfully, I never had to have that conversation with my doctors.

Ian's heart tones continue to do this little dance where they stabilize then drop. Claudia wants to put a fetal scalp electrode on Ian's head so she can more accurately keep track of his heart tones, and I agree to it. She also wants to try an amnioinfusion (or, increase the uterine fluid levels) to see if that will help stabilize Ian's heart tones. I have complete confidence in her and her judgement and agree to this as well. An oxygen mask is placed on my face also in efforts to help Ian, but I think it ends up helping me more instead. In any case, it helps keep me from hyperventilating, which was a problem with Benjamin's delivery, and I am extremely grateful for this fact alone. None of this appears to make much of a difference in Ian's heart tones, but Claudia is encouraged that they at least come back up, so I am allowed to continue to labor.

About 9:30 pm, just a few short hours after entering the hospital, I am fully effaced and dilated and ready to push! Claudia and Dr. Allen are both pleasantly surprised by my quick and efficient progress and I am highly encouraged by this. Both have examined me and say that they don't understand why doctors have been discouraged in the past about me delivering vaginally. They are both very confident I can birth this baby naturally and this excites and encourages me. I am relieved that finally someone believes that I an do it.

Each time I pushed, Claudia would exclaim with excitement how well Ian was moving down the birth canal and asked if I wanted to see it. Originally, I didn't want a mirror within 10 feet of me, but I was so excited and encouraged and actually did want to see. And I'm so glad I said yes because it was WAY cool! Being able to see my progress as I was pushing helped me to see that my efforts were paying off as well as allowed me to gauge how much more I had to go.

Ian's heart rate starts dropping even lower with each contraction and he starts to struggle recovering after. This becomes very alarming and my room suddenly fills with a ton of people. Claudia explains to me that the resuscitation team is there by precaution and tries to keep me calm, but it's not working. I am now absolutely scared out of my mind that something bad is going to happen to my baby. Dr. Allen assesses the situation and determines that Ian is too far down the birth canal for a cesarean now and briefly mention the possibility of using forcepts to help Ian out quicker. Getting Ian out the fastest becomes the goal, but forcepts is not mentioned again. Instead, everyone starts telling me that I have got to give pushing my everything now, that this baby needs to get out fast. It's about 11:00pm now and I am spent. I have been giving my all to pushing for an hour and a half and feel that I have no more to give. I have never felt more worn out in my entire life! Feeling like I could not go on and just wanting desperately for this to all be over, I looked to Stephen and just cried. I told him over and over, "I can't do it anymore. I'm so tired." He and Marcie did a fabulous job at continuing to try to encourage me, but I wasn't having any of it. Since my epidural was a "lighter dose" epidural (I wanted to still be able to feel the pressure so I could better direct my pushing) and it had worn off some by now, I was also in crazy pain. It was horrible and unbelievably hard.

Ian's head is finally crowning, but he's no longer going anywhere and his heart rate is continuing to drop. Claudia says she thinks an episiotomy is our best bet and I am relieved to hear this and gladly consent to one. I have the nurses take the mirror away (There was no way I was watching that) and they very next push, I suddenly feel complete relief from all pain and pressure, and hear a cry; he made it!

Everything seemed so completely surreal that I could hardly grasp what was going on. My little boy was placed on my chest, given a brief rub-down, and we were virtually left alone. I was crying pretty hysterically by now, but this time because I felt unbelievable happiness; not only was my VBAC a success, but more importantly my boy was perfectly healthy (they still don't know what caused the dips in his heart tones). I felt so much elation and an incredible sense of empowerment; my body COULD do this! The healing I had hoped to find here was immediately there. I got to spend a blissful few minutes with my son- no one whisking him away, no passing out, and no feelings of confusion and sadness. Just love and happiness and so much gratitude to my Father in Heaven for blessing me with such an experience. It was unbelievably difficult at times, but it was also so perfect.

Vegas, Grad-school, and Doulas

We just got back from a weekend in Las Vegas (or, more accurately, Henderson, NV). We were there for a family reunion on Stephen's side of the family and it was a good time!

We car-pooled with Jen and Clint (Stephen's sister and her hubby) and their two little girls, which worked out fantastically! Benjamin was fascinated by his little cousins, and Jane did an especially wonderful job entertaining him and trying to make him happy and comfortable. We managed to make it there and back with only one very minor melt-down, which is a blessing beyond my wildest dreams. 

While there, all the Palmer siblings and their families stayed together in a cluster of hotel rooms, which was super fun. Stephen and I had our own room, which turned out to be a handicapped room. It was a blessing in disguise as we had tons of room to set up Benjamin's pack-n'-play in the bathroom for him to sleep (he is an incredibly light sleeper and has a miserable time trying to sleep in the same room with others, which results in a miserable time for everyone). It was really kind of funny, actually. Stephen and I would stumble, half asleep, down the hotel hallway to the lobby bathrooms in the middle of the night. I'm sure the lady running the front desk thought we were crazy.

At the reunion, I had a great time visiting with some of Stephen's cousins whom I don't know well. I felt like I had known them for forever and it just felt warm and comfortable talking with them. It is often difficult for me to open up quickly to people I don't know well, so this really meant a lot to me.

I am pretty sure I was much more excited for that Easter egg hunt than Benjamin was... With Stephen doing his no-sweets-deal with my brother, and Benjamin being too young for much candy, I got the lot to myself! AND because Stephen and I intentionally did not cart junk food along on the trip, I didn't feel guilty eating it either. Score!

Also while in Henderson, I got to visit a bit with my college buddy, Sara. It had been a little over a year since we've been able to see each other, so that was a lot of fun. She had not been able to meet Benjamin yet and it was fun to watch her with him. He loved her :)

The night before we headed back to Salt Lake, the Palmer siblings and spouses got together for a group date out to dinner at one of the many casinos around. I believe it's the first time we got to do something like that and I LOVED it. We spent the evening (child-free! The older nieces babysat) together laughing and enjoying each other's company. I married into a wonderful family... I had, while single, hoped that I would one day marry into a warm, strong, close-nit family, and that is exactly who the Palmers are. I love them.

                                                                                                                                                         

Stephen has just recently finished his first year in grad-school and is wrapping up finals (as we speak even). He has been working so hard to do well and I am proud of him.

The poor guy has had a bit of a rough time this last school year with trying to manage all of his responsibilities and trying to balance his time. He's up most mornings at 4 am so he can go to work to provide for our little family, then he goes to school/works on homework for most of the day so he can provide us a more stable future, and then he comes home, exhausted and worn, and provides me some relief. We have an hour or two together in the evenings after Benjamin is down, and it starts all over again. He never complains. He never lets on how hard it is for him (though I know it is). He is always thinking of Benjamin and I first and does his best to show it. He is the strongest, most selfless person I know and I feel so blessed to call him my husband. I love him...

We have hopes that this next year will be easier since he's dropping his 4 am job in lieu of his paid internships. Only one more year to go!
                                                                                                                                                           

About two months or so ago, Stephen and I decided that we were not going to hire a doula to aid in the birth of our second child (which we had previously been planning on) because we ran into some unplanned needed car repairs. We had found a doula we felt great about and had a wonderful consultation visit, but just could not make it work at that time.

For those who may not know what a doula is, she is a non-medical person who can assist with the physical, emotional, and spiritual support of a laboring woman. She typically educates on child birth, helps you make informed decisions, helps you explore your birthing options, teaches you relaxation and laboring techniques, and helps support you in your decisions. She is there through labor, delivery, and partial post-partum period to assist you in any way you need. We had decided on hiring one for the birth of our second baby because we felt we needed extra support this time around.

Recently, we've been blessed with an unexpected grant that could cover the cost of a doula and then some, so we've started considering hiring one again. After running across this message from the woman we were looking at, I felt strongly about hiring her again (she is the ICAN chapter leader for Utah County):

 "I want everyone in this group to know that no matter the type of birth you have, there is always a place for you here. If you have an elective repeat cesarean, I will support you. If you have a vaginal birth after cesarean, I will support you. If you have a cesarean birth after a trial of labor, I will support you. This is a judgement free support group. No matter the type of birth you have, there is always a place for you here.

"You are not a failure if you have a trial of labor that becomes a cesarean. I (and I hope everyone else here) will never think of you as a failure if you have a repeat cesarean. I want everyone to feel welcome no matter what!

There is never one "right" way to birth. No one decision is right for every birthing woman or birth situation. This is why information is so important. Having all the information to make an informed decision that is right for you and your situation, is what is important. Feeling cared for and supported no matter your decisions is what is important.

 "There has not been any incidence of judgement within the group thus far (thank you for this!!!). I just need each of you to know where I stand as the chapter leader. Too often I hear women say "I feel like I failed" in reference to having a cesarean. I do not want any of you to feel this way! I want you to feel like you did what you needed to do to have your baby. We do the best we can with the information we have at the time. We do what we need to do to have the outcome we believe to be the most beneficial. Sometimes birth requires us to make difficult decisions. Making those decisions in critical moments makes you a strong woman, not the way you birth.

 "There is so much I wish I could express to each of you who have had a cesarean birth. I just don't have the words to express this love and admiration adequately. I want you to know that I have a great love and admiration for women who have cesarean births. Birthing women are amazing, not because a baby comes out of their vagina, but because they grew a human inside of their body and now they must birth the baby in whatever way that baby needs to come. Sometimes that means being cut open for the baby to be born. A cesarean birth is still a birth and not any less difficult (or courageous or amazing....) than a vaginal birth. I believe there is a moment during (almost every birth, it probably doesn't always happen) birth when the woman has a feeling of helplessness and despair and somehow we come out of that. We gather our strength and move above the helplessness and despair to bring new life. It doesn't matter how you birth, somewhere you find that strength. Sometimes it doesn't come when you need it, sometimes the helplessness and despair stays for a long time. If you feel this helplessness and despair, I want you to know I am here for you. Please lean on me. Please come to me. I will support you. I will help you. I will not leave you alone."

To someone who may not have suffered from a traumatic birth experience, this might sound cookey (I would probably think the same, if I hadn't experienced what I did with the birth of my first), but for me, these words were a healing balm. After that, I knew I just had to have this woman's help. Lucky for us, she still had an opening in July! I firmly believe that God knew what I would need to be able to have a better experience this time around and helped me to cross paths with this woman. His hand is ALWAYS in the details of our lives.
 

Our Little Monkey has Turned One!

This last year has flown by much too quickly. I have been extremely excited about Benjamin's first birthday and have also been dreading it. Hopefully as I try to take lots of time to appreciate all the small and simple things about his development and growth, time will slow down a little. My biggest fear is that I'll wake up tomorrow and will be sending my boy off to college, wondering where the time went and regretting it.

Anyway, so I have totally been that crazy mom I swore I wouldn't be -the one who throws an elaborate, time-consuming party for a one year old who wont remember a thing (much less care about it). I freely admit my hypocrisy. I will say this though; I LOVED it. I had been thinking about and planning all of the details of Benjamin's first birthday party for weeks (Stephen did a fabulous job at trying to be attentive and match my excitement as I went over ideas with him again and again. He's pretty much the greatest.). With the help of one of my sisters (who pretty much saved me from insanity with her ability to be practical), I made all of the decorations for the party, which was easily one of my favorite parts about the whole planning ordeal. It was way fun for me to use my "elementary school teacher creativity" in creating and organizing said decorations (a stay-at-home mom's education is never wasted, but that is a blog post/rant for another day).

I also branched out of my comfort zone and learned how to sort-of make a decent looking cake. It wasn't too bad for a first attempt. I just found this adorable picture of a monkey cake (for Benjamin) online and knew I had to give it a shot. Stephen was my hero and ran all over creation to find me the candy bananas I wanted for the cupcakes (for everyone else). He was my hero many times, come to think of it...bless that man. Only he could be married to a woman like me. Love him <3

Of course I cried as we sang happy birthday to Benjamin, and he cried too (he's not a fan of sudden, loud noises). It took him a little while to warm up to the idea of smashing cake in between his fingers, but once he did, that poor monkey was demolished within minutes. The cake smashing was easily my favorite moment. 

Despite the Palmer clan being miserably sick, the party was a success! Benjamin got some much needed new clothes and some fun toys, thanks to all his loving family members and friends.

Some fun one-year facts about Benjamin:

• He walks with both arms raised above his shoulders, next to his ears, with his hands in tight fists (it's hilarious). He took his first independent steps at 11 months old and has just recently started toddling around completely on his own.

• An absolute favorite thing of his is bath time. He will stand eagerly at the side of the tub, and bounce up and down, squealing with excitement while we fill it up.

• Another favorite thing of his is reading. The kid is one of my own and loves books! I once watched him (while he was in the tub) try to "read" one of his bath-books to a toy frog. SO stinking cute.

• He says "Mama" and, occasionally, "Dada." He even once swatted at Stephen and told him "No!" That was only a one-time occurrence, but we suppose it's only a matter of time...

•  He is a very spirited little boy and loves to discover and explore things. He is also quite the "talker" and is almost constantly babbling to himself or to Stephen and I. He is a happy little guy.

•  Favorite foods are bananas, cheerios, bread and peanut butter, and carrots. He absolutely hates peaches, peas, and the skins on grapes and mandarin oranges. 

• He dislikes being restricted in his explorations, like when we have to pull him out of the dishwasher after he's climbed inside while we were loading it, or when we have to take him out of the bathroom after he's gone fishing in the toilet. He gets quite upset.

•  He is terrified of the vacuum cleaner. Just pulling it out of the closet will cause Benjamin to shake like a leaf and cry. Confession: Sometimes, when I am particularly frustrated with Benjamin, I think about pulling it out and turning it on (don't worry, I'm not mean enough to actually do it).

•  While a total Mama's boy when he was younger, he now can hear his daddy come home from a mile away and all but run to him, squealing with excitement along the way. It's probably the cutest thing I get to see every day.

• He will become a big brother in July, and likely a great one :) He has a little baby doll that whenever it "cries" (we make a soft crying sound), he stops what he's doing, goes and finds the doll, and (most of the time) gives it "loves" (sometimes he'll suck on it's face...maybe that's a kiss???).

We have loved having this little guy in our family and are so grateful God saw fit to bless us with the opportunity to be his parents. He is such a joy!