Some things badly written.

Forgive me internet, I'm about to write while under the influence of a head cold.

This summer lasted approximately 37 seconds and somehow we didn't make any s'mores, or go to the zoo, or go swimming more than once (though I mostly blame our complex pool not opening till August for that.) I almost panicked, but then I realized that actually most of the summer stuff I want to do will be much better in the coming months, when the sun isn't trying to cook the skin off our bodies.

We did, however, get to find ANOTHER DAYCARE. I don't know what I did karmically to deserve this torture, but please accept my apology madam universe. Our new place is really really really great so I'm crossing every single finger that this is our long term situation.

We thought for a moment about moving when our lease was up, but as it turns out, it's hard to find a nice apartment in salt lake? I mean, it's not, but it is when 1/4 of your income is already taken up with daycare expenses and you can't really stretch your rent budget any further. Oh well. We love this apartment and whenever we do leave I will cry huge terrifying tears because it's the place where both our babies have lived most of their lives thus far.

Last week Brian went back to school (he's the most adorable accounting nerd I've ever seen) Norah went back to preschool part time (somewhat reluctantly, that's how much she loves new daycare), and I WENT BACK TO SCHOOL. Now, hold on. Because that all caps declaration makes me sound a lot cooler than I am. I'm taking a singular fitness class (body strength and tone, if you were curious) and it's already filling me with anxiety. The first day I instantly clocked that I was one of two students older than 20. We went around saying what fun thing we did that summer, and my classmates regaled us with tales of travel to Thailand, Italy, and Rome, weekends in Vegas, skydiving adventures, and jeeping in Moab. My contribution was that I had gotten an aquarium pass. I just wanted everyone to know from the get-go where I'm at. Our first actual workout was yesterday, and I survived, head cold and all! My body has the strength of a limp noodle currently (it hasn't been al dente since long before I grew two humans in my uterus) but I'm trying to grant myself grace in my abilities and to try and track progress, however it looks. Also every muscle I possess is screaming at me today.

We've discovered late night cookie delivery and it's the best/worst thing that ever happened.

I got a new computer mouse and it made my whole day and then I felt old but also ok because it's the little things, you know?

Norah has recently realized she can leave her room in the middle of the night. I keep waking up with her wedged between me and Brian, or laying next to me on the ottoman when I fall asleep on the couch with Juniper. One night when I sat up to grab a fussing June out of her crib she popped up from where she had been sleeping across the foot of the bed and I internally screamed for like a full ten seconds.

This has been your August update, I'm off to get more kleenex.

the fourth trimester

Disclaimer: Consider not reading this post if you've had terrible newborn experiences, or don't like sappy talk about babies, because I am about to regale you with the truly blissful experience of my 13 1/2 weeks of maternity leave.

Firstly, I get it. My maternity leave with Norah was not an idyllic experience. I spent all day in a basement apartment that had sunlight for approximately two hours of the day. Because of the heavy wood paneling and tinted lamp shade, my memories of that period are very brown and yellow, like a seventies flashback (or that instagram filter everyone is using right now). I had a car that had maybe ran well at one time, but never had in the few months since we had purchased it from a random guy in the avenues when I was 7 months pregnant. I had a baby who nursed for 40 minutes at a time every two hours, and who did not feel the need to ever go to bed. Instead she would stare at me calmly all through the night while I blearily watched Gilmore Girls and read online forums on how to get my baby to sleep. I had undiagnosed PPA which added a film of just out of reach panic to most of my waking hours. I loved (and love) Norah. I loved cuddling her and her giant gummy smile. I loved her rolls on rolls on rolls. I loved how much she loved napping on my chest. And at the time I figured this was just everyone's experience with a tiny baby. So my expectations were set for maternity leave this time around.

When Juniper arrived, I was already off to a much better start. I had my Zoloft prescription. I had an airy second floor apartment with giant windows right above the couch, so I basked in vitamin D all day. I had a baby who cared way more about sleeping and started doing long night stretches right away. I had a body that was SO HAPPY to not be pregnant anymore I felt like I could do cartwheels, even though I've never been able to do cartwheels. Maybe most importantly, this time I had coffee. I also had a toddler that I love to death and her schedule of preschool drop off gave my day a lot of structure. Norah's nighttime routine also helped the time pass quickly during that 5-7pm period when I tended to get the worst of the baby blues. I'm accustomed to life with a 3 year old, and the very small amount of lounging that comes along with it. Being able to just sit with a sleeping baby and watch all the tv was...heaven. And for all the challenges that come along with being a working mom, being able to send Norah to preschool while I was on maternity leave was not one of them.

My days had a loose schedule. Once I had dropped off Norah and we got back home, I would make some breakfast and gather all the essentials for my day on the couch. My kindle, all the snacks, remote, phone charger and like 8 water bottles. Juniper would get some floor/tummy time while I ate breakfast. Once a week or so I would check my work e-mail to see if there was anyone who had ignored my out of office response. Then I would settle in to nurse June. Sometimes I would read, or scroll on my phone, but mostly I watched all the shows I had been hoarding for this very purpose. (My favorites were Schitt's Creek and Marvelous Ms. Maisel.) Juniper took 90% of her naps on me during this time. And I REVELED in it. At some point I would get around to making lunch, usually a sandwich or some hot pockets. (sidebar. I haven't eaten hot pockets in probably 8 years. But they became a go-to because they can be cooked and eaten entirely with one hand.) Also there was an entire week where I had a slice of cheesecake every day with my lunch. No regrets. (I was not going to waste a delicious gifted cheesecake.) More floor time with Juniper if she was up for it (newborns are tired!) and I'd try to do at least one thing on the weekly to-do list I kept on my phone. Often it was laundry. (newborns are messy!). As Juniper's awake time grew, sometimes I would stretch or do yoga next to her, or just relish in being able to lay on my stomach. Brian would get home and get in a cuddle with Juniper before he picked up Norah. Then everyone was home and the night was a blur of dinners and bathtimes and goodnights until I was back on the couch holding the baby till bedtime. Lather, rinse, repeat.

I mostly just wanted to write about this so I can remember this unique window of time that can't be repeated. I want to remember the hours I spent cuddling and nursing Juniper, listening to her hiccups, drinking tea and coffee, and eating bags and bags of Nature Valley granola. 13 1/2 weeks where I was able to burrow in with my new baby, memorize her sweet face, and rest and care for myself. I feel beyond lucky to have gotten this experience and it's a golden time I will always treasure.

And now, 8 pictures of Juniper sleeping, because really that was all of my day.

Time I Cried on Campus While I Was Pregnant

A probably not exhaustive list:

1. I like super cold water when I'm pregnant. Most mornings, I would walk over to the student center with my water bottle and fill it up with ice from the soda machine. One day the ice was NOT coming out and after several attempts I moved my bottle away. It was then, with horror, that I realized my sip guard was still in my water bottle and had been blocking the flow of the ice. All the accumulated ice overflowed the grate and fell on the floor. As I was trying my best to pick it up (bending over was...a production), one of the cashiers came over. She very sweetly helped me pick up the rest of the ice and gently suggested that I buy a reusable cup to use at the ice machine instead. I thanked her and cried as soon as I was out of eyesight. I never returned for ice again.

2. One day I was stuck in the student center helping with the science symposium. It was past lunchtime, and I had reached that critical point of pregnancy hunger where nausea was about to take over. I was looking at all the options in the food court and started to cry because everything sounded awful and I really didn't want to throw up at work. The day was eventually saved when I was given a leftover boxed lunch from Jimmy Johns. Praise hands for Jimmy Johns.

3. After months of feeling giant and uncomfortable and witnessing people's reactions of "you're not due till when?!", having the cashier at the quikstop tell me my dress was cute while I was buying m&ms made me tear up. Also he was wearing the most beautiful lipstick shade and I still regret not asking him what it was.

4. When we showed up for the first day of preschool for fall semester and found out Norah had been bumped up to the older class. I was beside myself. I did my very best to pretend that I wasn't crying and Norah's teachers did a great job of pretending not to notice.

5. Another Norah one! Also at preschool! Norah was getting settled at the breakfast table while I was grabbing my keys and as I looked over I saw her casually cutting a roll in half. That's it. That's all it took to send me into sobs as I drove to work.

Bonus!

Times I Cried at Work While I Was Postpartum:

1. After walking into my first pumping room, which was just a bathroom stall with a chair in it.

2. Walking into my second pumping room which was much nicer, but still caused an emotional reaction.

I am clearly an emotional monster while gestating. I remember being a bit weepy when I was pregnant with Norah, but holy carp. This second pregnancy was a real journey. A journey of weeping.

life lately.

We're currently on the hunt for our FIFTH daycare in 3 1/2 years. I won't say any more about it, because it's expletive filled and hey, this is a family friendly blog. Most of the time.

Norah says something new and hilarious every day, and hearing her view of the world is kind of my favorite thing ever. She loves playing and racing me to the car and gets really excited about snacks and going anywhere ever.

Juniper has her mouth open in a giant grin approximately 80% of the day. She loves her reflection and Norah's babies, and Norah in general. She rolls on her stomach a lot and gets mad about it most of the time. She's getting better at sitting up, but still requires a spotter.

We've been living in the same apartment for 3 years now and I like to think of us as old timers in the building. But because we don't talk to anyone, ever, no one knows of our legacy. Also, our across the hall neighbors are from Malad which seems impossible. Also also, one of the occupants fell asleep while something was on the stove and Brian's fire prevention mode activated to save the building from destruction. Norah got pulled out of bed after dark and got to see a fire truck and was pretty thrilled by the whole experience. (it was over the summer and she just re-told me all about it last week, so it clearly left an impression.)

So far I'm a pretty big fan of having two children. It's overwhelming and crazy and crap the laundry never ends, but those two girls make me so happy and love each other so much. I don't understand how they're mine and I love and mourn watching them grow.

We still have cats and they're mostly annoying but I like them sometimes.

We have two cars again after about a year of just having one. Our new car is an old Subaru, so we're one step closer to living our PNW dreams. (how I've managed to keep Brian from buying a kayak to strap to the top of it is beyond me.)

This next month will be our first time taking Juniper to Malad, and our first family vacation to St. George. We also have dreams of buying a hammock for our living room.

Juniper Freya Walker

Juniper Freya Walker was born at 10:33 pm on October 25th,
weighing 7 pounds 7 ounces and measuring at 19 inches long.

For Norah's birth, I went in to get induced at exactly 39 weeks. Brian and I both had a clear expectation of how labor and delivery would go and thusly were extremely thrown to find out that our baby was breech and would not be arriving in the manner we had expected. My c-section was actually really great and I'm happy with how it turned out, but it definitely colored my feelings on planning much for my birth experience this time around.

I was wavering between a VBAC and repeat c-section my entire pregnancy. I didn't want to get my heart set on either option, and I couldn't decide which scenario I was most comfortable with. I initially decided that if I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes for a second time, I would schedule a repeat c-section at 39 weeks and be done with it. I surprisingly (and very happily) didn't board the GD train this time around, so the options were both still on the table. I finally decided to schedule a c-section and if she came before that date I would proceed with labor. The c-section was scheduled for two days before my due date and so I waited to see if anything would happen before then.

At my 38 week appointment my OB told me she was almost certain I wouldn't go into labor before my c-section date. I was disappointed because I was 200% done being pregnant and wanted to meet this baby. Similar to anyone who has been uncomfortable for the better part of a year probably. The next week was spent being grumpy and uncomfortable and anxious (more so than I had been normally, if that's possible...sorry everyone who had to talk to me. Especially Brian and Sara.) Two days before my c-section, I grumbled my way to work. When I got home, Brian took some quick belly shots and we went to the mall to get a final photobooth picture as a family of three. After we got home and got Norah to bed, I decided it was of monumental importance that I clean the bathroom, scrub down the slatted door to the utility closet and paint my nails. 

I eventually went to bed but just laid there for a long time until I finally drifted off around 1. I heaved myself out of bed at 3 to use the bathroom and when I stood up something felt...off. In the bathroom I realized there was some blood and fluid and in my half-conscious state I couldn't decide if that meant anything. I decided to go back to bed and figure it out in the morning. My intentions were for naught, because as soon as I laid back down contractions started and I wasn't able to fall back to sleep. I got out of bed and headed to the living room to time them and play a dumb phone game to distract me. My lame-o contraction app kept telling me to go straight to the hospital (such an alarmist), so I finally called the OB. As I was on the phone Brian wandered out looking concerned. I guess finding your 9 month pregnant wife on the phone at 4 am is a bit alarming (Brian would like me to note that he suggested I make a "Jake, from State Farm" joke here). The nurse I spoke to told me to come in if the contractions were still going in two hours. Brian and I watched office episodes and tried to relax. I was in denial that anything was actually happening and was sure we were going to get sent home if we went to the hospital. I was so certain about it I waited over 3 hours to go in, while Brian eyed me anxiously with every contraction. Finally I started to get the rest of my hospital bag together and Brian ran around frantically packing his. I super enjoyed seeing his panicked dad mode activate. I packed a quick day bag for Norah (again, being sure it would just be a couple hours at the hospital before we were sent home). We dropped her off with Ashley and headed to the hospital, back to the very same desk I had been to the day before to get some blood taken for pre-admitting things before my c-section. The nurse at the desk joked that I was there 24 hours earlier than I needed to be. 

I've read about it happening so many times, that I probably should have realized my intense denial of being in labor meant that I was most definitely in labor. My water was confirmed to have broken, so I was admitted to Labor and Delivery at 8 am. It was surreal to get settled in to the room where our baby would be born. We both just kept staring at the infant station in the room, knowing that eventually that station would hold OUR baby. Once I was checked in, I had to decide if I wanted to try laboring or if I wanted to move forward with a c-section. I decided if this kid was trying to get out a day early I would give it a go. The nurse began writing all our information  and labor preferences on the white board and asked if we had a name picked out. We did! We'd had a name picked out since about 3 months in. But I was low-key panicking due to the whole, baby not following the plan thing, and committing the name to the board made the whole thing seem too real. We left it blank.

(Have I mentioned our friend Nathan? Nathan is one of our best friends, works in L&D, and gets to wear a cool vest. He maybe had to answer a lot of dumb questions I had during pregnancy.) Nathan stopped by to visit during the day and was super reassuring and informative. He also made sure we got all the best nurses. It was so nice to have a familiar face around especially one who knew the all the medical lingo and could break it down for us. (Nathan ended up being on shift later that night and we were so lucky that he was able to be in the room when Juniper was born.)

Around 10 am it was decided I would start a super low dose of Pitocin since contractions had slowed down and I hadn't dilated past 3 cm. Things stayed super chill for a while. We watched episodes of Friends and various Food Network things,  and I ate some breakfast and got updates about Norah. (Ashley, Jami, and my parents were awesome at coordinating with each other to make sure Norah was taken care of, and at giving me updates when I requested them. Thanks guys!) Things started amping up around noon. I was having a hard time eating my lunch because the contractions were making me nauseous and the contractions themselves were getting real unpleasant. By 3, I was ready for an epidural, though it took some gentle prodding from Brian. (Thanks again, husband.) That process was not my favorite, and included that "I'm crying and now I can't stop" situation that tends to happen in times of high emotion, but it was absolutely, hands down worth it. Brian was amazingly strong and supportive and the only way I was able to get through it without a total meltdown.

The sweet, sweet epidural set in and we were able to get some rest. After two hours, I was dilated to a 5, and my bag of waters was somewhat in the way. They broke my water (which I didn't feel, but did see the aftermath of and...yikes). By 8 pm I was fully dilated. I had been prepared to be stuck at a 5 forever, so I was truly shocked when they told me I was there, and thought I had misunderstood somehow. I probably didn't come across as very excited initially, because I for sure thought they were talking about something else progressing. We waited for baby girl to descend a little more on her own, and by 9:45 it was time to start pushing. At this point something clicked and I decided I was ready. I asked the nurse to write the name Juniper on the whiteboard.

Brian cued up my Spotify playlist on his portable speaker, and we kept the lights low. I remember asking him to skip a Twenty One Pilots song. I can't speak highly enough of how encouraging everyone in the room was. I was told repeatedly that I'm great at pushing. I wish this was a natural talent I could put to other use, but alas, this was its one moment to shine. My epidural was perfect in that I could still move my legs and feel the beginning of the contraction, but was otherwise oblivious to pain. Guys, I'm totally supportive and enthusiastic about unmedicated birth, but for me personally, I would have married that epidural if I could. I ended up wanting to see what was happening, which surprised even me, so a hand mirror was obtained (I knew that despite my curiosity, a large mirror would have been pushing it). In another surprising turn of events, Brian also wanted to see what was happening, and actually kind of encouraged me. Her head was already visible and he thought it was the coolest thing ever and oh man it was a really great moment.

Anyway.

Pushing definitely required effort, but in between contractions I was excitedly talking to Brian, Nathan, and the birth photographer and joking with the nurses. Movies did not prepare me for any part of pushing to be casual or fun. That was a happy surprise. During one otherwise uneventful push, part of Juniper's head popped out. Brian almost dropped the mirror, and I low-level screamed. I was told to stop pushing. Um, ok. The doctor was rushed in and in no time at all, Juniper was out. We all cried and she was suddenly just there, laying on my stomach. It was surreal and strange and magical. And that high that women talk about? That was real. I kind of understand why people want to have like, a million babies. That feeling is really great. Juniper was born at 10:32 pm. 12 hours after I started Pitocin, 7 hours after the epidural, 45 minutes after I started pushing, and approximately 9 hours before she was scheduled to make her entrance via c-section.

With both of my babies I've been so lucky to get to hold them right away. And in both instances, that space of time spent studying a tiny new face with Brian has been so perfect and wonderful. It's such a special bubble where everyone bustling around you (and, uh sewing up your body...) fades away. It really is the closest to real magic I've ever experienced. I feel so lucky to have had two such different and amazing birth experiences. And two equally stubborn babies who were born exactly the way they wanted to, in direct opposition to our plans. 

Nathan was champion of blankets. We have so many photos with him in the background layering another blanket on.