Cit-ay: day 3

This will actually be a short blog. I’m not lying. I know, alert the presses, right?

As promised… day 3 synopsis.

It wasn’t quite as eventful as days one or two, but more fun because we were with Daddy (YAY!). I’m thankful that Daddy called the bay home for enough years to be able to take us around town without getting lost (as I most certainly would have). And also that he can parallel park.

We started our day with Bob’s Donuts. Daddy ran (literally) to the store in the early morning (a mile or so from the hotel I guess) while Ella and I enjoyed our last moments on the Hilton linens (they are fabulous btw). He didn’t have running shoes (or shorts, or shirt) so he did this in jeans and brown dress shoes. He’s that good. The kind Asian lady at Bob’s told Daddy he could eat donuts because he ran. He returned, pastries in hand, slightly sweaty but still astonishingly fresh looking. We had the apple fritters and other tasty things. Yum.

After donuts and readying (which is not exactly like it used to be when it takes me an hour just to dry my hair in between diapers and feedings) we set out to do some touristy stuff. Namely Crissy Field and the Palace of Fine Arts. A year ago my sweet and I sat around the water at the Palace of Fine Arts eating sandwiches and talking about our future. Oh how things have changed wonderfully in the last year.

Us at Crissy Field (a good view of the GG Bridge). Daddy took this picture using the “stretch your own arm out in front of you” picture taking method and it turned out far better than the alternative “ask a British tourist to take your picture” picture taking method. We can both complain about our hair because the wind was, well windy. Ella had her hat though (plus she has so little hair it’s irrelevant).
We then went to Nini’s in Burlingame which is basically the best place ever to get breakfast. Ever. But we didn’t get breakfast because it was 1 pm. I guess we both felt a little conspicuous ordering pancakes for lunch. After that is was into San Mateo to a great little toy store (well not so little) where we got the kiddies some treasures and me an AWESOME 3D puzzle of Neuschwanstein Castle. My favoritist castle ever (I mean that’s not saying much since I haven’t been to like a hundred castles or anything but this one is fantastic). It was probably the only castle I cared to see when I was living in Germany because it looks like something right out of a Disney movie and I’m totally into that fairytale crap (Not really, but what other reason is a castle appealing?). Just as a short history lesson King Ludwig II (it was his castle, though I’m sure you figured that out) died in the lake just below the castle. Hm. The water was only knee deep. Hm. You can read about it here. I’m not trying to force a history lesson upon you or anything but he drown in knee deep water AND he was an excellent swimmer. And his psychiatrist was with him and ALSO drown. Dun. Dun. Dun.

This is Ludwig: Fantastic hair right?

That concludes the history lesson.

This also concludes the blog post.

Next time: We’ll talk about, well I don’t know yet, I wait for inspiration. We might just talk about 12 year old boy’s hormones. Because our house is currently overrun with them. And I fear I might be losing my mind.


*I acknowledge there is no day one post. We were busy. That sums it up.

Ella is debuting her new sunskygrasscloudsflower hat today. Original design by dad and mom. You can’t believe the number of comments we got on this hat. It bordered on absurd. I’m going to start mass producing (better photos to come).

Well here Ella and I are in the City. Capital C. San Francisco. We had a rather eventful day while dad worked at the Paypal Innovate Conference. I don’t know what it is exactly, but apparently a rather big deal in the world of the computer-y types. Brilliant.

We started our day at Happy Donuts. It was pretty Happy. Even Happier though, the several drunk bums outside.

Walking around the Tenderloin was probably not one of my better ideas. However, I clearly learned nothing from that experience because I went back again. More on that later. If you don’t know what the Tenderloin is please feel free to read the Wiki article linked above. Don’t not feel obliged to visit. It’s really not necessary.

While in the Tenderloin I did have a rather pleasant exchange with two fellows who were, let’s just say, not employed… or showered. Anyway, I was clearly trying to avoid their secondhand smoke when one of the gentlemen (I use the term lightly) said to the other (while waving his hands about frantically), “Dude. Move out of the way asshole, there’s a BABY on that lady.” (I’m paraphrasing). The other fellow (I won’t even ironically use the word gentlemen) said, “WHAT?!” To which bum #1 replied, “RETARD. It’s a BAMBINO. She don’t want your smoke f%$*er.” Then….”Awwww. She’s cute too.” So there you go. All is not lost.

After that it was Union Square. That was a treat (once I found it). Ella was snug in the Maya and we hit up several stores. Old Navy. Sephora. Other stuff. Why bother with the Union Square Old Navy you ask? Well because it’s Union Square of course. Three stories of clothing bliss (well not bliss exactly. Just clothes.) Also we found a not so little shoe store where I picked up some new tennies since my existing ones were basically making me wish I could saw off my own feet at the ankle. During this time we talked to some very interesting folks, most of which stopped to comment on either a. Ella’s hat or b. the Maya. I managed to nurse twice, while walking, as I learned that, much to my dismay, SF has almost no public seating. No surprise I guess as the aforementioned bums would probably have been sleeping and/or living on them.

After our shopping and mobile nursing adventures I was getting pretty famished. Also I was quite tired from walking and lugging Ella and bags around. I stopped at the first reasonable place to eat. Blondie’s Pizza. Do not believe everything you read because yelper’s give this place a way too generous 3 stars. I can tell you I had what was undoubtedly the very worst piece of vegetarian pizza I’ve ever had. In. My. Life. IN addition to the pizza travesty, the seating area was closed. What the heck man? And the soda had no lid. HELLO. I’m carrying 3 bags and a BABY for pete sake. After that nightmare I went back to the hotel dejected and ready for a nap.

Ella didn’t want to sleep. Surprise.

Back out we went in search of coffee, chocolate or hopefully both. Yelp did not fail me this time. To Hooker’s Sweet Treats I went (stopping along the way at a grocery store {using that term very loosely} to get a banana and some nuts) Ok so it was a bit of a hike back into Tenderloin but I met two very interesting men wearing pink outfits and walking a tiny white dog. We had a lengthy conversation about the intelligence of babies and how to keep your dog the whitest white (which was apparently very important to this particular fellow. Note: the answer is not bleach). One of the gentlemen (and he was indeed) was in his 70’s no doubt and declared that babies are “tiny dictators”. Never has a truer word been spoken by a 70 something year old man in a pink tracksuit. I should have taken his photo. Anyway, I waited for what turned out to be the very best mocha I’ve ever had accompanied by the most outstanding piece of dark chocolate covered sea salt sprinkled caramel. One word. Amazing. This is coffee and candy alchemy tucked in one of the trashiest neighborhoods I’ve ever had the pleasure of walking through.

This is Hooker’s. It’s the nicest place in a two block radius by far. Very far. Bonus: the table was decorated with flowers in blue ball glass jars (ala our wedding decor)

More shopping after that. And the following things of note:

1. The Apple store @ Union Square is absurdly large.
2. They are inventing a new language in the Tenderloin. Mostly using the f word.
3. If you’d like to buy a pair of Dolce & Gabana/Ray Ban/Maui Jim/Ralph Lauren/Spy sunglasses you may do so on O’Farrell Street for $10. They might be counterfeit. Just sayin.
4. If you walk around long enough someone will eventually accuse you of “lying to them to try to trick them into having sex with you… for one thousand years.” He might not have been sane. Just sayin. After I left he started talking to the bottle he was holding.
5. You will be asked for money/change/booze/directions/the time, repeatedly.
6. You will see the largest variety of people anywhere. Where else can you see a guy in a pink tracksuits/a bunch of Asian guys wearing the same coat/a bunch of doctors/a lady dressed in a trashbag/three Italian couples discussing the inappropriateness of one of the ladies fur coats. In Italian. With hand gestures.
7. Also seen, a whole bunch of necklaces. Randomly displayed on a corner.
8. And… Trolley car displaying Giants flag.
9. And… A Muni car. Retro styling (this I believe is the 1960 car). I’m told by my hub (who called the Bay home for many years) that the muni sucks so bad the “hipsters won’t even ironically ride it”

Tomorrow: Day 3


So… In anticipation of our adventure to the Big City, Ella could not be without proper head attire. She’s thrilled about going to San Francisco. I can tell because she asked me to make sure she has outfits that fit in with the other Big City babies. And hats. Lots of hats. Also she likes chocolate from Ghirardelli’s I’m pretty sure. And the Golden Gate Bridge (well the park at least). And The Museum of Modern Art. And Union Square. Who doesn’t like Union Square?

Alas here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

Pink Pom-Pom with felt appliques. This is so ridiculously easy to make (well if you know how to crochet, if you don’t then you’ve got a bit of a problem). I whipped it up in probably an hour or so (if you subtract the time I spent changing diapers/breastfeeding/cleaning up/scolding Sean for saying ‘I hate you’ to his sister/folding laundry… if you don’t subtract that, it took me 5 hours). It’s made with some snazzy wool blend yarn with a label that has a lady riding a horse on it. If nothing else, the label would have sold me, but in any case, it was on sale for $3.99 at Michael’s. This is not a value priced yarn I realize however, I’ve made two different sizes and I’ve still got lotsa yarn left. Love those scraps (not really, how many scrappy round ripples can I make?). The felt was $.29 a sheet. They were out of yellow. That’s really inconsequential except I was pretty ticked. How do you run completely OUT of felt? Jerks. Anyway. We used green, blue, purple, orange and white.

Mouse with floppy ear (this version has tassles and earflaps because I was making a demo for Ella’s sister Kelsey and she requested them). In the interest of not providing Ella with a germ collecting/slobber attracting/choke hazarding device I will remove these. As for now, because Ella is motivated by nothing more that a clean diaper and breast, she thinks they are for sucking on and promptly starts rooting in that cute little I don’t mind if you suck on my cheek way that babies do. The ears are floppy, which is ironic because every woman in my family has such ears. It has yet to be determined if Ella is blessed with such a gift. I used Vanna’s yarn for this one (yep. Vanna White has yarn). It crochets up pretty nice and it’s cheap-ish :)

I am now in the process of making one more that is Matt’s suggestion with my alterations. It includes a sun and cloud motif. It’s going to be brilliant.

The Rainbow of Pee and Poop Collectors (aka diapers):

Today’s disclaimer: I am not trying to make mothers who do not cloth diaper feel guilty. I am not trying to suggest that anyone who throws a diaper in the trash is solely responsible for destroying the a. earth b. ozone layer or c. our children’s futures. My intent to only to share what we do and why we do it (and maybe make you laugh about it).

I decided to do a short (who am I kidding nothing I write is short) blog about cloth diapering. This was motivated by the following: a. most mom’s of the current day do not cloth diaper (henceforth known as CD) and therefore find the act mystical and mysterious (much like witches and wizards, and why people are still talking about Sarah Palin) and well just plain ol weird b. well, I just like to raise awareness and c. It gave me an excuse to post a picture of Ella’s diapered bum which is cute.

First let me tell you why we decided to CD. It’s partly what you would expect the reason to be if you know me. Because I like to make other mothers feel guilty (no just kidding. See: disclaimer). The environment. That’s reason numero uno (disclaimer: I only know like 20 Spanish words and most of them are labor coaching words). You may find some information about the environmental impact here. I’ll admit that website is by some people called the “Real Diaper Association” so I imagine they might be biased. Noted. However, even if they are biased, the fact is, in a baby’s first year of life alone he or she will soil approximately 3,000 diapers. I don’t know where I heard that number but it’s fairly simple math. 8 or so diapers a day x’s 365 days is like 2,900 ish. Close enough right. That’s a LOT of poop and pee. And plastic. The argument has been made that perhaps the washing of cloth is equally harmful but I’d say that’s a matter of opinion. We are pretty water conscious around here (and by that I mean when we boil corn on the cob my husband then uses it to water the plants. That’s pretty conscious people.) and we still feel that the cloth is a more eco-friendly option. So there’s that. Also I drive a reallly really big car (it’s a Toyota Sequoia. They did not pay me to say that. I just did.). It uses gas. A lot. I try to save where I can. Frankly, what else are you going to put 4 kids (and their crap) in? Also it has two tv’s (that’s just in the interest of full disclosure, it’s pretty sweet to have 2 tv’s in your car but also totally unnecessary). Anyway, I can’t plant a tree every time I go somewhere so I do what I can. Turn off the lights. Conserve water. Don’t litter. Cloth diaper. :)

However there is another compelling reason to CD and if you don’t believe me I invite you to come to our house and see for yourself (if you know where we live. If you don’t please just take my word for it, you don’t have to come to California just for me to prove a point). Point made. Cloth diapers feel good. Like really really good. Like so good I wish I wore diapers. Well not really but you get the point. Go ahead. Touch a dispo (that’s CD slang for disposable) and touch a CD. There’s really no comparison. Plus they’re cute. And they aren’t filled with toxic chemicals. Toxic. Chemicals. That’s all.

We use fuzzibunz. I’ll readily admit these are the Cadillac of CD’ing (I believe my friend Karen coined that term. She’s awesome and also CD’ed her babe). I used the old flat folds and covers when my other kids were babies and they were kind of a PITA (that’s short for pain in the ass, for future reference). The particular ones we bought are one size and will fit from birth to potty training, thanks to adjustable elastic and nice little snaps. This is not your momma’s diaper folks. These beauties have a cute outer waterproof shell and a microfiber insert that you stuff inside a pocket. Thus why they are often referred to as “pocket” or AIO (all in one). No pins. No folding. Just stuff the pocket. Put in on the baby. Baby pees (or does something slightly messier) and you remove the inner liner from the pocket and toss into the hamper (or whatever). I swear as I live and breathe you do not have to touch poop (I don’t really care because I’ve touched far worse than poop. I’ll spare you the details, but I am a RN after all. It’s messy.). Anyway no pee or poop hands.

Here’s the diaper in two pieces:

And together (I wish there was touchavision because these suckers are soft):

Also… when the poop gets messier they make these fancy little liners that look like toilet paper. You just flush them right down the toilet. Viola. People fear the poop. I get it. The mess etc. But it’s not what you think. When the baby does her business you just wipe her bottom down with a homemade baby wipe (recipe below), remove the liner and stuff it all (wipe included) inside the “icky” bag (pictured below). Many folks like to put the icky bag inside of a diaper pail. I probably will too eventually, but honestly the laundry room door works pretty well for now. Ella’s poop isn’t too stinky. And nothing sits long enough to smell like pee.

We also have travel size “icky” bag (pictured below). Good for dirty diapers and other things that are wet and/or stink. I wouldn’t recommend banana peels though. They just rot.

(Yes it has her name on it. It’s cute. I’m all about the cute.)

Anyway, when you’re ready (which is about once a day for me), you just toss the whole bunch of dirty business, including the bag, right into the wash. Washing is simple. Soak and rinse in cold/cold then wash and rinse in hot/cold. The rinse is important. Residue makes smell. Take my word for it on that one. We use the products pictured below. I love the Charlies soap (however, it is kinda costly) but I started adding Borax to make sure the ammonia was gone and the Oxyclean every so often to combat stains (laying them in the sun works brilliantly. Sorry people who live in Washington state. You’re going to have to find sun first.). The Arm and Hammer is a nice alternative to the Charlies (and about $5 for that big bottle so pretty cheap). No bleaching. No fabric softeners. Nothing with smelly stuff in it. It’s important to know that products with things like fabric softener or perfumes will actually make your diapers less absorbent which is not good, unless you like to wake up to a bed full of poop and pee. Which I do not. Especially since we co-sleep mostly. (Note: Charlies did not pay me to endorse their product but it is really quite fantastic. Non-toxic, biodegradable, and good for sensitive butts. Fitting right in with my whole eco-conscious thing.)

I’d be kind of a jerk if I didn’t address cost. The fuzzibunz aren’t cheap. We have I think about 15 diapers which is enough if you’re washing daily or every other day. And they’re about $18-20 a pop (I got all of mine from eBay and paid using Paypal {this is a shameless plug for Paypal and eBay because my husband works for them and hey, someones gotta pay the bills so I can blog in my free time). Anyway, like I said not cheap. But overall still cheaper than buying package after package of plastic. I’m not gonna lie, again, I chose them because they were convenient. I thought the hubby wouldn’t be intimidated by them (well he isn’t intimidated by much but anyway) and the kids could use them (yeah right. Suuuuure) and hopefully when I go back to work (insert frown here) the daycare provider won’t mind using them. They are super duper easy. There are about a billion (ok that’s an exaggeration) CD options out there. You’ve got the AIO’s, the plain old flatfolds with covers like gramma used, prefolds, Gdiapers (which are kind of a hybrid), wool soakers to cover the prefolds (which I would have used if I had done more research ahead of time, and I will in fact be crocheting some of these up shortly), the list goes on (not much longer though cause I listed a lot). Fabric options vary too. And I would be amiss if I didn’t point out that the fuzzibunz are made of a microfiber which, while very soft, do tend to retain some ammonia smell and require special care to prevent that (again, I’d probably go with plain out flatfolds and wool covers for home use if I did it over, but I doubt many moms want to handwash and pin and all that crap. I don’t blame them.).

All in all I’d say the CD experience has been great for everyone. Ella has a cute little (color coordinated) bottom (pictured below). She’s suffered no rashes (other than being a tiny bit red from having some poop on her bottom at night once without me knowing). In fact we are getting ready to go to the Ci-tay (as Steve Perry would say) and I’m TERRIFIED of having to use dispos. She’s got such sensitive skin. I love knowing I’m doing a nice thing for her butt by putting something cushy on it.

Here’s our changing station (which amounts to a basket with diapers and the homemade wipes):

And Ella is wearing her pink diaper in this picture (cute right?).

That’s the CD rundown. Feel free to ask questions. You make ask me if I’m crazy, but I swear I’m pretty sure I’m not.

Homemade wipe solution:

2 cups water
2 T baby wash
1 T baby oil

mix together and pour over your cleansing rags of choice (I bought wash rags from Target and store them in a rubbermaid container). Rags, pieces of flannel etc.

cloth diapering

Or…. not so much.

Here’s the disclaimer: I am going to talk about sex (you have been warned). Sex and love and passion and that kind of stuff. Not the pornographic kind (so it’s safe for general reading) but more like the “stuff dreams are made” of kind. Read on my friends.

So recently this Stanford University study was published. Their mascot is a tree which has nothing to do with this blog post but I’m sure makes for an interesting half time at football games. I digress. They are a school of research, and a good one I hear, so the aforementioned study was both interesting and timely, considering my recent painful experience (I’m referring to childbirth. It hurts.).

You may go read the study, I’ll wait (which I would recommend because a. it’s interesting and b. this won’t make too much sense if you don’t) or alternatively I will summarize it for you here: Love relieves pain. Or rather, it diminishes our perception of it. Do I have your attention? Now, lest I be misunderstood, not just any kind of love but the “passionate, all-consuming” kind. Still have your attention? Sounds pretty good right? In a nutshell the study participants were subjected to a “mild” pain and asked to 1. Look at photos of their “loved” one 2. Look at photos of an “equally attractive” acquaintance (whatever that means) and 3. think of sports that “involve balls” (because distraction too can be a pain reliever) and rate pain whilst doing said activities.

So obviously they are in fact not talking about pain equivalent to childbirth pain. That would be both difficult and cruel to emulate. Plus it has been suggested that the pain of labor is not like any pain you’ll ever experience. Conversely, it has also been said that you can actually attain orgasm during labor and birth and I believe it. I do (I’ve watched that movie, by the way and it was pretty outstanding). But I’d have to say I fall in the former category of women who happens to think labor hurts. Kinda bad. It definitely does Not (capital N) feel like an orgasm to me. I mean I’ve never had a kidney stone and I’ve never been shot. I’ve only broken my toe once (which hurt pretty bad), severed my toe once (which again, hurt pretty bad, plus was very bloody) and stress fractured my leg running (which obviously didn’t hurt enough because I kept running long enough to actually break it all the way). Anyway, labor hurt way worse than any of that. I don’t want to shoot down the orgasm claims though because well… parts of labor felt pretty good.

So… if we can accept this basic principle it will assist greatly in the proof of the hypothesis:

Getting a baby out is a lot like getting a baby in, if you know what I mean.

Wink. Wink. (and thank you Ina May Gaskin for that). Now, something you may or may not know about me is I was a L&D RN. Before that I was a doula. In addition to those professional experiences I’ve given birth to four babies. Their births differed greatly however which is why I am now an expert on the subject (Note: I’m not really an expert on anything, except pie. Which I like. A lot.). Babies 1-3 were basically the same kind of births with similar pain experiences. I’ll give you a quick rundown (I’m not going to go too deeply into what happened, or what I wish I’d done differently because that would make this particular post a novel. I’ll save it. Read on.):

Baby #1: I was “overdue” (whatever) @ 41 weeks and induced using the prostaglandin/pitocin/ AROM (that’s artificial rupture of membranes, for the non-birth junkie types) method. I had contractions basically every 2-2.5 minutes ALL NIGHT LONG and dilated to 2 whole centimeters. This is when I realized that pitocin hurts. Bad. I caved in a got an epidural at 12 hours of labor on the OB’s suggestion because I was “going to be in labor all day”. Well that and who am I kidding, it hurt like hell. She was born 3 hours later (for a total of 16 hours). The epidural made me so numb I felt like I had no legs, which I hated, so I had them turn it down. She was born after 15 minutes of pushing and I had enough sensation to know what to do but not too much pain during that phase. P.S. Pitocin hurts like a mother f*er (pardon the expletive)

Baby #2: Suspected to be macrosomic (that’s bigger than 9 lbs, which he was exactly). I was induced using AROM/pitocin. Epidural at 4 cm (which was 2 pm). Pit hurts. Even with an epidural it hurts (HELLO it’s supposed to take the pain AWAY). He was born at 4 pm (12 hours of labor). 3 or so pushes. Again very little pain during delivery but the pit was murder. Again.

Baby #3: Was feared to be bigger than #2 (but was in fact only 8 lbs) so I was yet AGAIN induced (I was educated, very, but fearful and not in the mood to argue with the medical establishment. Again. Another post. Another day.) This time cervical ripening/pit/AROM (in that order). Transition was AWFUL. I had no space between contractions. I was pacing and basically out of my mind. The intrathecal came right before he delivered so the getting him out phase was almost painless. I pushed like once, and poof, out he came (9 hours of labor). I felt pretty powerful after that birth because it was really painful. Somehow pain equaled power. I don’t get it. I’m just sayin. P.S. Pitocin hurts like a son of a gun. In case I haven’t mentioned.

This brings me to #4. Let me preface this by saying I went into this homebirth ready to handle whatever was thrown at me. I knew there were be no epidural or pain relief but I wasn’t afraid. I just knew it would be fine. Moving on.

Baby #4: Ahhhh. Baby #4. There would be no artificial measures. You can read the birth if you haven’t already (as it’s linked above). No pitocin. No AROM. Just some Kung Pao chicken and my water breaking. Then labor and birth (well slightly more complicated than that but you get the idea). It hurt. Let me tell you how bad it hurt… at one point during my labor I actually said out LOUD, “I don’t know what all the fuss is about, I could do this 10 times.” And I totally meant it. She was a little tougher to get out, taking 6 whole minutes, 5 of which she was stuck (14 hour labor total). HELLO pain, pleasure principle. P.S. Pitocin can kiss my behind.

So what’s the difference you ask? Let me tell you. First let’s go back to my being an expert. I have to have knowledge of both pain AND love to be credible (and I have to have experienced both I’d say, to even be believable). In light of the study and how it relates to this blog, let me say, I am in love. Like LOVE. The real deal kind. My husband and I are a perfect match. And I am not even exaggerating (I’m just trying to make a point here, not rub it in). I should disclose that we are newly wedded. Well if you look at the pictures over there <---- you can see we are VERY newly wedded. But again, no joke. We are so deeply in love that I swear I can't tell sometimes where one of us ends and the other begins (you may throw up... now). Anyway, we decided to make a baby and we did. Also we continued to remain intimate throughout our pregnancy, even up to hours before her birth (hey, I warned you). We just love each other. We both love sex equally and think it's fun. Plus he's a really great kisser (I'm pretty sure that makes a difference). Ok I'm done now. Moving on. With that in mind it should follow that we'd love each other during labor too. And we did. We showered. We danced. We hugged. We kissed. In short, we acted just like we would on any normal day. We had a birth team (the midwife, two good female friends, and the 3 other kids) and we discussed before Ella's birth if their presence would have a negative impact on our ability to act normally intimate and we felt it would not, and it did not (if you know them, ask Staci and Jenny, they'll tell you. If you don't know them you just have to take my word for it). So how painful was this labor? Wait for it... Not a fraction as painful as my previous 3. Not. A. Fraction. And I had EPIDURALS with them. Epidurals. The absolute in absolute pain relief. I'm not making this up. For the sake of science and the well being of birthing women everywhere I don't think my husband would object to my saying that our intimacy was the single biggest factor in my perception of pain. His being a sweet and gentle and generally loving man was THE thing that made this labor so different. Oh sure, there was no pitocin which undeniably makes labor more painful (read: miserable). Oh sure, there was the birthing pool, which undeniably makes you feel less pain (read:water-dural). Oh sure, I was at home, which undeniably makes you more comfortable. I ate pancakes. I listened to Bob Marley. These are all huge factors as well. I’ll admit. But the one factor, the thing I could get only from him, was love. The real deal kind of passionate love. And if it is possible (read: it is possible), Ella’s birth actually made us even CLOSER than we were before. Thank you honey.

And thank you Stanford for studying for a year what I could have told you in 14 short hours. Love makes all the difference.

And this is what it looks like…
and this…
and this…

and this.

epidural , homebirth , induction , labor , pain , pain relief in labor , pitocin