Guide to Trading Candy

I love Halloween. One of my fondest childhood memories is of the post-trick-or-treating candy-trade. My siblings and I would come home with a sack full of treats, dump them in our respective piles, and carefully organize them by brand, size, etc. And then the serious bartering would begin!

And that is why this I found this video particularly hilarious. Although even those unfamiliar with the age-old candy-trading tradition will probably laugh out loud a few times.  This is so good it deserves multiple viewings to catch all its subtleties. 

ENJOY!

Flashback Friday: Madelyn's Birth Day

My daughter entered this world in our home on December 14, 2006, 46 minutes before her official "due date."  In the days that followed, I recorded a journal of her birth based on my personal recollection combined with notes my mother made. These notes were important for piecing together the timing and sequence of events, as a woman's mind lost in natural labor doesn't pay attention to such details.

I want to share this story as part of my series of "family history" flashbacks. It is very personal and real. If you're squeamish about childbirth or pain, you may wish to skip this one.  Until today, I'm fairly certain I had not read these words since shortly after they were written. The emotions they stirred in me are powerful and beautiful. I am not only grateful for this most incredible experience in my life, but for the fact that I had the sense to record it in such detail so that I may never forget.  And thus, it serves as the perfect Thanksgiving-weekend tribute.

MADELYN’S BIRTH DAY

On Thursday, December 14, 2006 I woke up at 6:40am feeling what I thought might be a contraction.  It was fairly uncomfortable, but I wondered if I just needed to go to the bathroom.  Having never experienced labor contractions, I wasn’t sure what to expect.  The same pain returned every 20 minutes, so I was pretty sure they were contractions.  After two hours I got out of bed, and the contractions did not return.  I was a little disappointed because it meant I was not in labor after all.

I did a few things on the computer, read a few chapters in “On Becoming Babywise,” and then played some “Dance Dance Revolution” on Playstation, hoping to stimulate labor to begin.  I talked to my mom on the phone, and she informed me that there was a pretty major storm coming in tonight, so she was going to be staying with Diana and Randy next door since Dad was out of town and she didn’t want to be home alone if the power went out.  She planned to work out at Curves and then watch Diana’s boys so she could also work out.  I called Diana and offered to watch her kids so she and Mom could work out together, but she said Randy would actually be home.  But she asked if I would come over and play with Kaden while she ran to the post office.  So I went over there around 4:00pm, and just before Diana got back from her errand, those pains returned.  While talking to Diana before I walked home, I tried to brush them off, thinking it probably wasn’t the real thing. 

Back at home, I had two or three contractions in a row, several minutes apart, but for some reason I still wasn’t sure they were really contractions.  It sort of felt like a gas bubble passing through.  Gary thought I should call the midwives, just to let them know something was happening, especially since there was a storm on the way.  I thought it was too early to call them, but I did it anyway.  After my first call, the contractions kept coming regularly.  They were already getting quite painful.  After a few calls back and forth with Wendy and Linda, they decided it was time to come out.  Linda was quite concerned about the storm, fearing a downed tree would block our route to the hospital.  To reassure her, Gary drove from our house all the way out to the freeway, reporting plenty of traffic, all the power on, and not so much as twigs on the roads.  He wasn’t worried anyway because we know so many ways to get where we’d need to go.  But I’m glad he made the effort to put Linda’s mind at ease.  Our midwives Wendy and Bonnie headed out from East Portland into rush hour, stormy weather traffic toward our home.

I called my mom to tell her that I was in labor, and things were getting difficult, so I hoped she would come right over instead of going to Curves first.  She was only a few minutes away from home, where the power had just gone out.  She told me she was so glad that she was already planning on staying at the Fairhursts’ tonight, because she had spent the morning getting ready to go and packing, which would have been far more difficult to do now that there was no power.

Gary and I changed the sheets on the bed, put away the comforter and laid out my handmade birth blanket.  We had all our birth supplies set up on tables in our room, ready to go.  I felt as prepared as I could have been for this moment.  And I was so excited thinking that it would not be very long before we’d finally meet our beautiful baby!  We joked a little bit that Madelyn is already showing she’s a drama queen, choosing to be born on the night of the big winter storm. J  In early labor I mostly laid on my bed or leaned over it, just trying to get through the contractions.  I was concerned because if it was already this painful, I wasn’t sure how I’d make it through the really difficult parts! 

It took a while for my mom to get here because a road was closed due to flooding.  I was glad when she arrived, because Gary had left to check the roads to the freeway.  I was so pleased that my mother could be with me for this, even though the idea of giving birth at home was a little scary and strange for her.  Her support by my side meant a lot to me.  I asked her to take pictures, and shared that I would like candid, story-telling shots, not smile-for-the-camera shots.  My mother did an excellent job and we have some beautiful photographs to remember this special night.

I had started recording the times of my contractions early on so that I would have a record to show the midwives when they arrived.  After a while, it was pretty obvious this was true labor, but my mom helped me continue to record the times anyway.  My contractions remained about 5 minutes apart for most of labor.  Other than that, I had no sense of time.  Labor is a powerful drug that takes you to the place you need to be to get through it.  And that place is in the body, not the mind.  Our power went out a little while after my mom got here.  We got out all the flashlights and battery-lanterns.  It was actually kind of neat to labor quietly in the dark, hearing the winds whistling through the trees outside. 

Diana and Randy stopped in to see how I was doing, which was really nice of them.  I was glad they came over, but because my contractions were pretty painful, it was difficult to enjoy their company.  I was glad to be able to talk to my dad on the phone a few times.  He was a little disappointed that Madelyn didn’t wait for him to come home from his Utah trip to be born, but he was so sweet and supportive on the phone.  It would have been nice if my dad could have been here for her birth, but I have to admit I did not want to wait!

Loki and Kezia were so relaxed; they actually slept through most of labor.  Their presence was very calming and comforting to me.  I don’t know if they had any idea what was happening, but it brought me peace to have them nearby and be able to snuggle with them when I wanted to.

Eventually Wendy and Bonnie, our midwives, made it here through the terrible traffic.  Gary gave them the cozy socks with rubber traction that I had gotten for them for our slick, cold hardwood floors.  After checking on me and giving some sweet words of encouragement, they went to work setting up supplies and organizing.  They listened to Madelyn’s heartbeat during a few contractions, checked my blood pressure and that sort of thing, but were very quiet and slow, mostly observing.

I thought it would feel nice to get in the hot tub, but Gary was pretty worried about debris in the storm hitting me outside.  At one point the winds calmed down and so he helped me get in and stood outside in the cold with me.  After only a few contractions in the hot tub, the winds picked back up, and Gary thought we would be safer inside.  Coming in from the hot tub I was very chilled, but I got dry and wrapped in a cozy robe. 

I would get very hot during contractions, and then in between them I would shiver at the cold.  I kept taking the robe or blankets on and off because my temperature was fluctuating so much.  I remember having no thoughts whatsoever about modesty, my mind and body were just completely focused on the work of labor.  I felt very primal, and tried my best to listen to my body and work with the labor, not against it.  I didn’t have any specific pain-coping techniques that I felt worked well.  I just tried to remind myself during each contraction that it would end soon.  I also focused on my breathing, and tried to relax.  That was the hardest part; I noticed myself tensing my body during contractions.  Another thing that worked for me was allowing my body to make the noises that felt natural.  I needed to moan through the pain.  My mom, Wendy and Bonnie all helped soothe me and tried to help me relax.  Gary was a great labor partner.  He remained quiet and calm, brought me water and juice, did anything I asked of him, and told me I was doing great.  One of the most helpful things was when he put pressure on my lower back during contractions.  That felt really good.

Everyone was quiet and calm, and the darkness was almost romantic.  Gary asked if I’d like to take a walk around the house, so we did.  It was a tender moment for just the two of us to be together.  I went into Madelyn’s nursery and sat in the rocking chair.  That actually seemed to help during contractions, so I stayed.  Then three contractions happened right in a row, without the usual break between.  We went back to our bedroom, but Gary brought the rocking chair in there because I liked sitting in it. 

I told everyone about the three strong contractions in a row, and my mom wondered why the midwives hadn’t checked yet to see how far I was dilated.  Bonnie said that they will check me whenever I want them to.  I was nervous to have them check, because after all the pain and hard work I’d been through, I didn’t want to be disappointed at a lack of progress and get my mind thinking in terms of “labor math.”  But then while I was standing over the bed, I had a really intense contraction.  It made me want to cry it hurt so bad, and Bonnie held me and let me cry on her shoulder.  I believe it was at that time or maybe the next one that my water broke, and the pain was so intense that I could hardly speak, so I remember trying to mutter, ‘It broke. My water just broke,” since I’m not sure anyone could see that in the dark.  Someone quickly cleaned up the puddle on the floor.  I also had a little urge to bear down!  That’s when I decided I wanted to see how far I was dilated, because I was confident that I had to be getting close.  I was so surprised to be feeling the urge to push.  I actually had no idea how much time had passed, but it felt so soon to be getting near the end! 

I laid down on the bed while Bonnie checked my dilation, and she said I was at about 8 centimeters!  I was so glad, but that meant that I needed to hold off on pushing until I was a little further dilated.  So I laid down on my side to counteract gravity’s effect on my urge to push.  I breathed quick, shallow breaths to keep from pushing, which was difficult.  The lights came on during this time.  Gary placed a cool washcloth on my head, which felt wonderful.  Soon Bonnie checked me again and said that my cervix was ready and it was okay to push now!  It felt natural to just roll up onto my hands and knees for pushing.  Then in between I could rest my head down. 

Pushing felt so wonderful.  I mean it really hurt, but there was something so relieving about it.  I could actually feel her little head moving through the birth canal, and I don’t recall that part hurting very much.  I was able to control my breathing and push slowly and deliberately.  Gary got to see her first wisps of dark hair inside me and watch the birth.  Wendy stayed by my head to give me support, and once again the power went out.

When Madelyn’s head was crowning it was very exciting, I couldn’t believe I was nearly done and she was almost in my arms!  I kept thinking of that reward and so was able to stay focused on getting through this last, difficult part.  The stretching of the vaginal opening burned quite a bit.  Bonnie applied counter pressure to the perineum, and I tried not to push too fast so I wouldn’t tear as much.  Gary told me when her head was coming out, and he sounded so excited. 

After a little rest, I pushed the rest of our baby out with the next contraction.  Bonnie handed her between my legs into my arms, and I was able to sit back and hold the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.  I am crying now as I write this, because the memory is so vivid and wonderful.  I clutched my baby girl to my chest and looked at every little part of her.  I couldn’t believe this perfect little being came out of me.  At the time, I didn’t cry because I think I was still under the power of Laborland.  I was so elated to have my daughter in my arms, and so relieved that labor was over and I did it!

Someone pointed out that the lights were back on, and we realized that the power must have returned near the exact moment that Madelyn’s head emerged.  I attribute that to the arrival of her electrifying spirit.  J 

We toweled Madelyn clean, and after the cord stopped pulsing, Daddy Gary got to cut it.  Then I got to nurse our baby for the first time, with Gary by my side.  That stimulated contractions to push the placenta out.  Wendy showed us how it worked inside me to nourish our precious baby.  The next day Gary planted it under Madelyn’s own Golden Delicious Apple tree in our backyard, so it will continue to nourish the tree and us by its fruit.

Wendy and Bonnie helped get everything cleaned up, and finished the necessary procedures to take care of the new baby and new mommy.  When they were sure everyone was healthy and happy, they left.  At 4:00am, Gary and I, exhausted and blissful new parents, went to sleep in our own bed, with baby Madelyn Bryce Winter finally in our arms.

(Click to enlarge)

Editorial: It's hard to say when labor officially began, but if we assume it was around 4:30 or 5pm when I returned from Diana's house, and Madelyn was born at 11:14pm, then my labor was only 6-7 hours. I recall that I was pushing for only about 20 minutes. There are SO many factors at play in every birth scenario, but I feel strongly that my mental preparation and choice of surroundings was an integral piece in the puzzle of my successful birth experience. Thank you Vivante Midwifery for facilitating this joyous occasion for our family. 

Birth blanket

This is kind of a continuing of yesterday's Flashback Friday. I had read about the idea of a birthing blanket in a book, and decided to make one. The blanket is designed to be waterproof messproof in order to protect the bed or floor, while providing a soft place to labor. I also tend to agree with the sentiment that a "birth project" of any kind can aid a mother-to-be's preparation for the big day.

Common sense indicated that I would be throwing this blanket away after its purpose had been fulfilled.  So I knew it didn't need to be pretty. I found two flat sheets at Goodwill, but bought a new shower curtain because really--is there a used shower curtain in existence that isn't covered in mildew and soap scum? I'm no seamstress, but I've done a number of sewing projects, including a pieced quilt duvet cover and my "senior quilt" made as part of my church young women's program. A birth blanket is uncomplicated, like a senior quilt: the shower curtain is layered with the batting between the two sheets to create a watertight barrier. 

So I set about making the blanket in much the same way I remember making my senior quilt. For added liquid-catching ability, I rolled up the sides before clumsily stitching them shut. This blanket was for function, not beauty, remember? Then in order to secure the batting in place, I proceeded to tie the quilt with yarn, as I recalled having done so many times in young women. The needle goes through the blanket, tie a knot, then repeat over and over again all over the quilt, and cut the yarn between the knots to make the little ties that add flair to your finished blanket. Ta-da! 

With my blanket complete and a table in my bedroom covered with supplies like sterile gloves, disposable blue underpads, garbage bags, and flashlights, I was ready to have this baby. 

And I did. Which you'll be able to read about next Friday. 

But you may have already figured out the inherent flaw in my birthing blanket's design. Because YOU are clearly a much more intelligent human being than I, whose mind the error never crossed until it was too late. All those HOLES I poked in the blanket with a quilting needle resulted in a failure of its waterproofing capabilities. So directly under the place where Madelyn was born, we have a lovely dark red stain on our memory foam mattress' pillowtop. I'm sure my brother who owns a carpet/upholstery cleaning business loved trying to clean that up. Ha ha, Bryan. That's what you get for putting nooses on my stuffed animals and flying them around on the ceiling fan.

Flashback Friday: From OB to Midwife

Now that you know how I feel about planned home birth, let me tell you a little bit about our decision process and some of the steps we took to prepare for the adventure.

Gary and I shared an intuitive leaning toward natural birth practices before we conceived a child and started researching. When I found out I was pregnant, I automatically called my uncle, who is also my OB/GYN.  At our first visit, I broached the subject of home birth. At that time I was completely unaware of the divisive crevasse between hospital vs. home birth mentalities; obstetrics vs. midwifery. I naively thought that all birth professionals worked together toward the end of happy mothers with healthy babies exercising their right to experience birth in the way that is most comfortable to them. I've since discovered a great deal about the intriguing history and modern implementation of birth practices around the world.

My Uncle promptly discouraged me from the idea, with tact and professionalism. The gist of his main line of reasoning was that as a first-time mother, I would have no idea what to expect and should experience childbirth the "usual" way before trying something outside the box. Also (this will reveal the extent of my naïveté) I learned that he could not attend to a birth at home. Being the obvious rookie in the room, I accepted his advice and made my next appointment.

A couple of months later I was reading Birthing from Within by Pam England on an airplane headed for Waco, Texas.  Above the clouds, I read the chapter the author almost chose not to include about home birth (because she did not want her book to be viewed as advocating for home birth specifically).  The words and the ideas resonated in my so deeply that I knew. While waiting for my baggage to cycle past, I called Gary and told him that I had decided that I wanted to give birth at home after all. He wanted to know why I had decided and if I was really sure, then we agreed that we would talk about it more when I returned home.

The two big steps which came next were finding a midwife and notifying my doctor.

1) Finding a midwife. This wasn't too difficult, because Google and a few other resources only produced a small handful of midwifery practices that attend home births. Of these, only two of them had Certified Nurse Midwives in the group, and our research lead us to feel most confident having a CNM because of their higher education and more extensive experience. We interviewed these two sets of midwives, and immediately felt a more pleasant connection with Wendy from Vivante. Our conviction compelled us to choose her even over the group that offered in-home prenatal care! (Of course, I've always wondered if perhaps they weren't as welcoming to us because they weren't keen on the idea of driving 45 minutes from their office for my check-ups.)

2) Notifying my doctor. This one was more difficult because I love and respect my uncle so much. The more I expanded my knowledge of the birth culture divide, the more I realized how difficult the announcement would be. I decided that the best way to speak to my uncle was in his own language. So I gathered links to several recent studies regarding the safety and outcomes of planned home births published in esteemed medical journals.  I believe that I confirmed my decision to Uncle over the phone, then emailed him links to the studies, additional resources, and my own testimony of my own reasoning.  I was surprised and elated when he phoned me (this man is very busy and we don't really have a talk-on-the-phone kind of relationship) to thank me for sharing the information. He said that it opened his mind to understand the practice of home birth and made him more accepting of my decision. I know he does not now regard home birth as a better or even equal alternative, but at least he gave me his blessing and assured me that he would be praying for a successful outcome.

With those barriers out of the way, we spent the next several months having the (mostly) usual prenatal care, acquiring the usual newborn supplies, and gathering some not-so-usual provisions in preparation for D-day (Delivery, not Doom).  The midwives provided an entire folder of resource materials, inside of which is the official "Homebirth Handbook." It contains a list of supplies to have assembled in advance, many of which we were able to order online in a kit. We took a childbirth preparation class modeled after the Birthing from Within book that was integral in my decision to choose to give birth at home. And I created a birth project during the final month or so of my pregnancy, the defects of which left us with some unusual consequences.

To be continued tomorrow...

Flashback Friday: Home birth letter

As Gary and I prepared for the arrival of our daughter in the latter part of 2006, our decision to plan a home birth was met with some resistance.  I wrote the following letter to ask my family members for support and understanding. More than anything, I am sure the process was valuable for me to organize and fortify my beliefs about our decision. I know it is kind of long, but you birth-story junkies out there may find it interesting.

Dear Family,

As I’m sure you recall preparing joyfully for the arrival of each of your children, this is a very important and exciting time in our lives.  You have probably heard by now that Gary and I have chosen to plan to give birth in our home.  In our culture today, the home birth option is not widely esteemed or even understood.  We believe that our labor experience and the outcome of our baby’s birth depend on being surrounded by a positive support structure.  That is why I am writing a letter to our loved ones.  I want to shed some light on the reasons we have chosen to plan for a home birth, share some information regarding the safety and normality of an attended birth at home, and ask for your help in creating the positive environment that we feel is important to our birth process.

First I want to emphasize that there is nothing wrong with giving birth in the hospital, and we do not have any disrespect for or animosity toward families who feel more comfortable with that option.  We hope that we would receive the same respect for our choice, which is a very personal one.

I hope to clarify when people inquire, “You’re going to give birth at home?” that the answer is “Maybe.”  Deciding to plan to birth at home is just that, a plan, or a desire to give birth at home.  But the goal is not a home birth at any cost.  Midwives are thoroughly trained and experienced in monitoring for indications that a transfer to the hospital would be best for mother and/or baby, usually long before an emergency would occur.  Planning for home birth includes being open to all possibilities, including one in which the baby is born in the hospital, even by cesarean birth if necessary.  The ultimate goal is a healthy mom and newborn, and if the benefits we associate with a home birth can be enjoyed in reaching that goal, then that is the plan.

The Philosophical Assumptions of Home Birth Parents and Attendants

• Because pregnancy and birth are natural physiological events, normal birth does not belong in hospitals (and wasn’t placed there until the last century, and still isn’t in many cultures).
• The natural course of labor is already perfect, and should be interfered with as little as possible.
• Pain is part of an essential and healthy feedback mechanism in labor, which women can learn to cope with, with proper encouragement and support.
• Medical management of pregnancy and birth should be limited to those which are medically complicated.
• Unnecessary medical interventions complicate normal labor, creating additional risk and the need for more intervention.

Adapted from Birthing from Within by England/Horowitz

In addition to these underlying assumptions about birth, here are a few of the advantages we feel are gained by laboring and giving birth at home:

• A quiet, peaceful environment which we can control to a certain extent
• A sense of comfort in our familiar surroundings means being “at home” psychologically, to  encourage relaxation and release
• The innate, miraculous process of giving birth is allowed to unfold on its own
• There is no schedule or rush to force labor to progress
• Constant availability of our personal birth attendant, no shift changes or sharing of nurses
• No pressure to accept unwanted pain medication or drugs (which might be easy to give in to in the middle of labor!)
• If a problem should arise that requires medical support, we will not wonder if it was caused by routine, unnecessary, or ill-timed hospital interventions
• The midwives philosophy is not centered around such interventions, so if she advocates them, it will be easy to trust her endorsement
• Ready availability of family and friends during labor and birth, if desired
• Access to our hot tub, our own food, a walk around the neighborhood for fresh air, and other comforts available at home
• The freedom to labor and birth in the locations and positions that I choose, and confidence to do whatever my body tells me is necessary at the time
• Studies indicate a tendency toward shorter labor at home
• The joy and empowerment of bringing our baby into the world naturally, and in her own home
• Immediate, close contact with our newborn baby girl

Home birth is not the option for every family, and we completely understand that.  In addition to the important aspect of personal preference, it is also essential that a couple seeking a home birth meet certain general criteria in order to be considered.  It is a long list, but examples include having good physical and mental health, adequate social supports and a positive emotional environment, a pregnancy with no complications, and the baby positioned properly for vaginal birth.  Couples choosing this option also must be willing to take an active role in giving birth, cope with the pain and hard work of labor without drugs, and take responsibility for the outcome of their choices.

In many cases, midwives may be trained more thoroughly in “normal” birth than obstetricians, whose education focuses considerably on managing complications and emergencies.  We feel comfortable with the benefit of having access to the best of both worlds: safe home birth with modern midwives trained to identify and manage minor problems, and the availability of appropriate hospital technology if necessary.  As mentioned before, our ultimate goal, as well as that of our birth attendants, is a safe birth, not a home birth no matter what. 

It may come as a relief to learn that transfers to a hospital rarely involve a labor emergency.  Most of the time problems in labor develop slowly, with early signals alerting the midwives of their approach.  Usually transfers to the hospital are made for non-emergency reasons, such as a prolonged, exhausting labor, or failure to progress in dilation.  Another little-known fact is that home birth attendants are skilled in handling most common birth “crises,” and carry much of the same equipment to handle them at home as what is available in the hospital.  For example, the midwives carry sterile instruments for birth and suturing any tears, basic resuscitation equipment for mother and baby, ultrasound stethoscope for fetal monitoring, drugs for postpartum maternal hemorrhage or bleeding, IV equipment, oxygen, antibiotics to treat infection, and more.  Midwives are not only trained in medical procedures, but also in ways to comfort and assist the laboring mother, such as natural pain coping techniques, methods to encourage progression of labor naturally, and in practices to help avoid tearing.

Many studies have been conducted to compare the safety of birth at home vs. in the hospital for comparable low-risk pregnancies.  One recent study involving over 5400 planned home births, published in the British Medical Journal in 2005, concludes the following: “Planned home birth for low risk women in North America using certified professional midwives was associated with lower rates of medical intervention but similar intrapartum and neonatal mortality to that of low risk hospital births in the United States.”  One of our midwives has been attending births at home and in the hospital for over 30 years and has never lost a baby or mother at home. 

In summary, our birth attendants are trained to recognize any warning signs of problems early on, and then take appropriate action to deal with those problems.  If an emergency does arise, they have the knowledge and skills to institute basic emergency care to either resolve the problem, or stabilize the mother and/or baby until we reach the hospital.

As very important people in our life, I am asking for you to help our family in three specific ways:

1. Please try to understand a little bit about home birth and open your mind to it as a normal, viable birth choice.  Showing an interest lets us know that you care.  If you have questions or concerns, let’s discuss them together!
2. Please recognize that planning to give birth at home should not imply that we don’t understand and appreciate reasons to choose to give birth in a different setting.  We do not feel that a home birth is better or worse than a hospital birth.  It depends on so many individual factors, and in the end is a very personal choice.  Our baby may be born in a hospital as well, and we find nothing wrong with that. 
3. Please try to maintain a positive attitude toward our decision, both when we are and are not around.  If you are involved in or overhear conversations we are having about the impending birth of our baby and the circumstances surrounding it, you can show support by getting involved in the conversation in a positive way.  Even subtle negativity or apathy may not only hurt my feelings, but also may have an effect on my mental state in preparing for labor and birth.  Also, I hope that your support will be genuine, because insincerity can be just as hurtful. 

These requests may seem silly, but I feel that having the support of our loved ones throughout the upcoming weeks is essential.  For many of our own personal reasons, we are electing to plan to give birth at home.  Whether you would choose this path for yourself or not, we hope that you will be able to support us in our choice, as we believe we will always do for you.  We believe that it will take concentration and positive mental energy to accomplish this miracle of childbirth in the empowering manner we are planning.  It is important to me that I am surrounded by the same attitudes as I approach this life-changing event.  I believe that it could be detrimental to our birth experience and outcome if I am self-conscious about our decision, feel unsupported, or harbor fear that if things do not turn out as we hope that I will have to face “I told you so” from those to whom I would wish to go for support and sympathy.  I hope you will understand that I am requesting your help because you are among the most important people in our lives, and soon in Madelyn’s life.  A foundation of understanding, love and encouragement is what we need most right now.

Thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts.

All our love,

My love's birthday

Gary turns 33 years old today. I've planned a whole day of birthday fun, but it's a surprise, so I can't let you in on it yet. Two years ago I shared 31 Random Things I Like About My Husband. I read those over this morning and it made me feel very happy to be reminded of what a wonderful man I married.

Several months ago I found myself seeking this kind of reminder, and I turned to our engagement photography session. The pictures evoked the familiar, yet oft neglected emotions of joyous love.  For your birthday, Sweetheart, I hope you enjoy these pictures and the memories you find accompanying them.

I love you, Gary. Happy birthday. 

Just CARD me.

Since two days ago I alluded to having personal experience with a hangover, and am about to write about going to a bar, I feel the need to reassure you that I am not some kind of alcoholic party animal. Last night I took my good friend Sarah out to celebrate her 30th birthday, and we happened to sit belly up to the bar for dessert because the restaurant was full.  And we had a really fun time. Happy Birthday Sarah!

I recently turned 29 years old. I see the same face in the mirror today that I did ten years ago. Is it because the changes are so very gradual that I don't feel that I have aged? Will I feel the same when when I turn 39 or 49? When do you look in the mirror and not feel 19 years old anymore? 

The Oregon Liquor Control Commission mandates that servers check ID for any individual who looks under 26 years of age. And it's not uncommon to see signs posted in establishments announcing that they card anyone under 35. So how do you think it makes me feel when you don't card me, huh?!?

It's not so much that I am offended by not getting carded. After all, I occasionally got away with hanging out with my older friends in bars when I was 18. If some bartenders thought I was old enough to be there back then, perhaps it's only logical that I have a naturally "mature" appearance. But I am genuinely curious about how old I look to a stranger and why. Last night I came home and scrutinized my face in the mirror: pushing and stretching and trying to figure out what has changed in the last decade. I don't see crow's feet or bags. My smile lines don't seem overly defined. So what gives, Stupid Bartender? 

It's all but impossible to find two photos with exactly the same expression/angle/lighting/haircut for a truly accurate comparison, but here's the closest I came up with after a quick hunt through the archives. I went with my hair back in the recent photo to more closely match the short 'do from my younger days. 

   

2 days after my 21st birthday 

  

   

2 weeks before my 29th birthday

Have I really aged enough to be un-cardable? There are definitely darker creases under my eyes...or is that a matter of different lighting? Does anyone else experience the same odd sensation of being blind to your own degeneration? I don't like getting old. Especially when I don't even realize it's happening. 

Flashback Friday: Hyphen? No thanks.

It has been nearly a year since my last "Flashback Friday."  It was the honeymoon episode in the romantic series which began with Gary proposing on a Las Vegas stage. So although it is belated, I'll continue this trajectory by telling of the derivation of our family surname.

As happy couples often do, Gary and I would occasionally muse about the possibility of marriage long before we were engaged. Even then, we discussed our mutual preference for choosing a new name for the newly-formed family of our future. Many people are surprised to learn that it was my future husband who originated the concept; I did not persuade him to stray from masculine tradition simply to suit my wishes.

Gary never felt a strong connection to his last name. He was not close to his father, who left when he was a child and is now presumed deceased (this is something I'll always wonder about).  Gary's mother remarried while we were dating and took a new last name herself.  The last name Gary grew up with is nearly meaningless to him, and the notion of carrying on that family "legacy" simply doesn't matter.

In addition, Gary opposed the accepted convention where the wife assumes her husband's name because the implication is that she becomes his property, or the way I viewed it: leaves her own personal identity to become part of his. Of course, we both understand that this is not the way marriage and the name change is generally viewed today, and we don't criticize anybody's choice to follow the established norm.

One common rebellion against taking the husband's name is to hyphenate with both names. Personally, I was adamantly against that option, and I don't think Gary liked it either. We both preferred the idea of creating a new name for our family. The early inspiration involved perusing foreign languages of influence in our lives to select a pleasant-sounding, easy-to-spell word with a meaningful translation. But as the far-off possibility of getting married transformed into a real plan with a date on the calendar, we began to consider the concept of combining our last names to create a new one.

WINkel + FosTER = WINTER

We are lucky that our two names happened to form a real English word, and even luckier that we like the word and it even held personal significance for us.  We embarked on our relationship in the winter.  I taught Gary how to snow ski, a hobby which we frequently enjoyed together. Both of us to an extent, but Gary especially, prefer the rainy, cold seasons to the sunny, hot ones. When we brought puppies home to join our family a few years prior, we chose Siberian Huskies--traditional sled dogs.  We chose to get married under the snow-capped peak of Mt. Hood. Our honeymoon cruise was booked--to Alaska. Once the official decision had been made, we had some fun with the concept and created a "Winter in July" wedding theme.

In addition to these kind of silly connotations, I do love the symbolism that the combination of names evokes. Neither of us rescinded our own identity in forming a marital union. We retained our own individuality, while also creating a new identity together.  The family created when we married was something entirely new, entirely our own. Yet instead of using a word picked out of a book, our new last name was formed using elements of our previous names, allowing the figurative histories within them to endure.

Gary signs his new last name for the first time 

(He had a much harder time with all of the name-change paperwork than I did--a lot more questions and requests for legal proof)

These days, the intrigue of our new name is old news to those who know about it, and no news to those who don't. The assumption is that I took my husband's last name, and the truth isn't unveiled unless there is a reason. Much like weddings themselves, and birth stories, every detail of which seem (and many are) of utmost importance at present, become relegated to the memories of the primary players and rarely discussed as time passes. Our adorable wedding theme plays no role in the day-to-day interactions of our marriage, and neither does the highly debated venue.  Few people know that I gave birth to my daughter at home, and she is certainly not noticeably different from other children because of that experience.

But on occasion, the intrigue of our family genealogy has proved to be a delightful dinner-table topic.  And if anybody hears my last name and begins to wonder aloud if I am related to So-and-so Winter, I can immediately interject my "no" without even listening to the name. Which is amusing.

Flashback Friday: Alaska

We've done the proposal, the bachelorette party, some wedding photos and reflections, so now on to the honeymoon!

I haven't mentioned much about our wedding theme: Winter in July. You may have noticed some elements of it in the pictures, but it actually holds quite a bit of significance.  To add another layer, we chose to take the Alaska Inside Passage cruise for our honeymoon. Gary is not a lover of tropical destinations, but we're both wild about outdoor adventures, so this was a great choice. Here are some random memories and experiences from our trip.

1-Dinner guests
On this Holland America cruise, we were assigned a dinner time, and a dinner table in the main restaurant. On the first night, when we were guided to our table set for six, I was slightly disappointed.  Why would they seat the honeymooning couple (yes, they were aware) with a group of strangers?

As it turned out, our dinners with these two Texas Ranch couples were a highlight of the whole vacation. They were a lot of fun, and let's face it: no matter how much you love your spouse, when you have 7 days straight to spend together, occasionally enjoying the added company of others is welcome.

2-Seasick
I used to scoff at people who feared getting seasick on a cruise--I mean those ships are so huge compared to waves, right? Our first day of sailing was spent in the open Pacific Ocean along the western coast of Canada, before reaching the calm Inside Passage. I could not believe the tempestuous rocking and rolling we experienced that day and the first night. I went to one of the sundry shops and purchased some Bonine tablets for motion sickness. They cost $6.99, which I know because I just looked at the box that is still hanging out in my medicine cabinet since I only needed them that one day.  Later that same day I told someone--probably one of our new rancher friends at the dinner table--about picking those up.  I was then swiftly informed that those tablets are available at the concierge desk for free. FREE. This brings up two pertinent questions: 1) Why do they even stock them in the store then? 2) Why didn't the cashier tell me that I could get them for free by stumbling a few more feet down the hall?  I remember distinctly waking up in the middle of the night feeling as though I were riding inside a front loading washing machine.

3-Once in a lifetime opportunity, missed
We saw many beautiful glaciers on our cruise and learned a great deal about them too. Some lucky people get to witness glacial calving, where huge pieces of the ice break off into the water. Gary was one of those people, but due to a poorly-timed restroom break, I was not. Thankfully, he knows how to use a camera.

Can you see the big chunk breaking off?

Kersplash!

4-Deceiving distance

I found it fascinating to comprehend that Johns Hopkins Glacier is about 8 miles from our cruise ship as pictured below. Perspective is strange.

5-Soaring

I couldn't be more pleased with each of our choices of excursions in port. In Juneau, after riding the Mt. Roberts Tramway up a mountain and taking a short hike, we boarded a float plane for a bird's eye view of some amazing scenery, including glacial formations.

I had no idea glaciers were so dirty. The ice at the forefront originated from snow that fell in the mountains 75 to 200 years ago.

This looks like meringue.

You must believe me on this one: all three of the colors around the trees in the above photograph are water. So close to one another, and yet all so different.

By the way, did you know that Juneau can only be accessed by plane or boat? I didn't know that before we went there. Although debate surrounds the current project to build a highway connecting Juneau to the Alaskan road system.

6-Bear pee delight

The float plane delivered us to historic Taku Lodge for an amazing Alaskan salmon feast. After dinner we had the distinct pleasure of witnessing a black bear climb atop the grill which had prepared our feast, lick it clean, and pee all over it.

Yum.

7-Bike, hike, kayak

A great way to get off the beaten path and experience some natural parts of Sitka that the less adventurous tourists won't see.

Kayaking from Ketchikan, we were lucky to spot a few bald eagles catching prey on the rocky shore.

 

This trip truly was incredible. Gary and I agreed, however, that one day we must tour Alaska in our own vehicle so that we can see more and take everything in at our own pace--as opposed to that of the sailing schedule.  I would certainly recommend an Alaskan cruise as well, though. It's a great way to see a lot in a short amount of time.

Flashback Friday: Perfectly imperfect wedding

It's a good thing that throughout my wedding day I was in a state of bliss.  I believed the entire experience was a bride's dream come true: the perfect wedding.

In the days and weeks and years that have passed since Gary and I were married on July 15, 2005, I have periodically contemplated an array of minor regrets. I wonder if this is a common post-bridal-bliss phenomenon. It's probably a natural thought process following any once-in-a-lifetime type of event (even couples who eventually divorce presumably view their wedding day in those terms, right?).  Most brides get only one dress. One cake. One ring. One suite of bridesmaid dresses. One chance to make the perfect choices and to execute each one perfectly.

So when that one day you've laboriously planned for over many exciting months is suddenly over, is it common for the analysis to begin, and little disappointments that weren't there on the Big Day to settle? Especially if a gal were to keep her nose in bridal magazines or be forced to attend wedding after wedding for friends and family members--finding new and better options, seeing fresh ideas and styles as your own choices are left in an era behind, and being reminded of how things could have been done--could potentially exacerbate all this nuptial mourning nonsense.

What I've described does not reflect my own experience to any disturbing degree.  But I have spoken to married women who make me wonder about the universality of longing to re-do at least certain aspects of such a treasured, momentous occasion as our own wedding.  If nothing else, the photos I've seen from early nineties' weddings might be enough to confirm the suspicion.

My nearly-perfect wedding began for me the night before. After Gary and I hosted our immediate family members at a dinner celebration at the restaurant where we met when both employed there, I drove with my mother and my only sister to the bed and breakfast in the foothills of Mt. Hood where I would be married.  This girls' night together chatting and giggling and squeezing together into a huge king bed was the perfect conclusion for my un-married life. The next morning we were elegantly served the most delicious German Pancakes (a first for me) topped with raspberries picked fresh from the garden outside our log cabin. YUM.

We woke up to this day:

Yeah, that's where I got married. NO regrets there! Which was a close call, because we overcame distinct opposition to the idea of requesting that guests travel over an hour from Portland to attend.  I am so glad we held strong to our conviction on this decision, because this venue is one of the most memorable and special aspects of our wedding, and the people who made the effort to attend are the ones who matter most.

Also perfect: my wedding dress.

I had no intentions of selecting a strapless gown; it isn't the most flattering style on my broad shoulders.  This dress really didn't fit the vague idea I was concocting of the perfect dress, but when I tried it on, it literally became the embodiment of my perfect dress. I love the lace-up back. I love the intricate beading and silver-threaded leaf design. I love the organza overlay. It made me feel so beautiful.

We were very pleased with our photographer--actually we got two for the price of one because they were instructing a new guy on the team.  So there were two cameras shooting most of the time, which is why we also got a few precious shots of our actual photographer:

Brian took our engagement photos in NE Portland too, and he was super easy to work with, really fun, and took excellent photos.

The last piece of my wedding puzzle that I've remained especially happy about is serenading my new husband.

My very talented mother accompanied me singing "The Nearness of You" by Norah Jones. I'll never forget that my older brother Bryan told me he had a hard time determining whether I was actually singing or lip-syncing to a professional recording, and also that it isn't right for his sister to sing "like that."  It's a fairly sultry song.

Even these points of near-perfection hit their snags.  The weather was beautiful, but in Columbia River Gorge style, turned windy.  My dress didn't fit quite as well after 8 hours, so the evening photos feature a hefty portion of armpit fat spilling over the top.  That might be the absolute worst part, but just in case I'll go ahead and describe a few more things I've secretly wished could have been different.  I hope it is clear that these are minor blemishes to an otherwise joyful celebration of love.

It's a fact that disappointment always results from unmet expectations. I loved every bit of my wedding while I was experiencing it, but revisiting pictures and memories offers the unfortunate perspective to unwittingly compare reality to the fantasy I thought I was living.

My hair ended up far too perfectly curled, when what I wanted was the loose, messy look from this magazine ad:

I actually love our unique cake, and knew we wouldn't get exactly the same look we fell in love with in a magazine.  It was just an inspiration photo, after all.  Hopefully not tragic enough to be worthy of submission to the glorious cakewrecks.com, but kind of fun to see the departure.

We planned a butterfly release for the grand finale of our ceremony, only it was more comical than grand, since the butterflies struggled to fly away. It was more of a butterfly "drop."  You can see a few insects fluttering about, plenty on the ground, and Gary trying to shake the rest out of the box.

We visited Mt. Hood Bed and Breakfast on our 2nd anniversary, and the owners told us that the Monarchs and Painted Ladies enjoying their flowers were the spawn of our wedding release. They claimed to enjoy the  beautiful mark we left behind.

So far I've listed the petty little shortfalls of expectation, unimportant in the grand scheme of a beautiful wedding.  But not all of my regrets are so trivial.  For example, like probably any number of newlyweds, I wish we had visited more with our guests throughout the evening.  But that just comes with the territory I think, and considering we didn't have a reception line, I guess it's pretty good that I at least greeted just about everybody there.

We ended up having to arrange for an alternate officiant with very little notice. Originally a dear friend of mine was to officiate the ceremony, but with less than two weeks to spare, she abandoned us.  While each detail of our wedding and reception were carefully orchestrated, the all-important individual who would do the honors of solemnizing our union suddenly became a matter subject to availability rather than preference.  The woman we found (with the unfailing assistance of our amazing wedding coordinator) was fine, but didn't necessarily exemplify our ultimate match.  Also, she lost her place in her cue cards once, resulting in an awkward few moments when she repeated herself and then struggled to regain composure and continue from the right spot.  We did have two beautiful readings offered by Angie, Gary's best friend from high school, and my sister, Diana.  We both got a little choked up reading our wedding vows, and our huskies presented the wedding rings, led up the aisle by their breeder, with whom we had become good friends.

It might sound a little silly, but if I was offered a chance to change only one thing about my wedding day, after seriously considering having someone tell me my armpit fat was spilling, I would probably ultimately decide to go back and make sure my mother watched our first dance. I don't know where she was, but somehow my mom missed that whole performance. And I say 'performance' because Gary and I took lessons and had an entire dance choreographed to Michael Buble's "Moondance." Yes, I know that's really cheesy, but we had a lot of fun at our lessons. Here is the victory pose after we pulled it off:

So maybe my wedding wasn't perfect.  But the entire day I thought that it was.  That's what being in love feels like.