Excuse me for a moment. But I think the challenges of this life have done me in. Moving, military deployments, baby after baby, disappointments, and the cares of this world. My brain is so tired.

I wish I could sleep. Even when I'm exhausted I can't sleep. My over-extended brain just won't let me. It keeps talking and visualizing. I think I'm going to go practice my hypnobabies. That seems like the only time my mind really slows down.

I can't believe this has been my life this week. Here's a synopsis:

Friday (Oct. 30): Full day of getting ready, 5hr drive to PA, check in a hotel.

Saturday: Full day of driving to Hanover, Lancaster, and Ephrata, PA for touring, etc.

Sunday: Anabaptist church service. Wear headcovering for the first time, try to keep kids still and quiet for a very serious and quiet THREE HOUR SERVICE, followed by a huge gathering for lunch, dropping Bree off, and then a 7hr drive to Lynchburg, VA. Check in at hotel.

Monday: Sonny to work, I try to train the kids how to sit quietly, then let them play at a playground. Go to Goodwill, drive around Lynchburg.

Tuesday: Sonny takes day off. We go to Appomattox for the day, then shopping in the evening.

Wednesday: 1hr drive to Roanoke to visit with a friend and also see the Roanoke Star. Back to Lynchburg to pick up Sonny and eat Mexican.

Thursday: Pack and check out of the hotel, Sonny at work, I take all the kids to tour T.Jefferson's Poplar Forest. Go to playground, meet up with Sonny, return to Poplar Forest. 5hr drive home. Arrive home at 9:45pm. Bake four loaves of bread.

Friday: Clean house, make two batches of soup, have a midwife appointment (appt. was at noon). Work in the garden. Pack again, get dropped off at the ladies' retreat for church at about 5pm. Dinner, play piano for worship, 2.5hr Bible teaching, stay up late chit chatting.

Saturday: Breakfast at 8, 2.5hr Bible teaching, lunch, 20 minutes of fishing, 3hr Bible teaching, get picked up at 5pm, come home and unload the car for the first time since we left last Friday. Repack for the weekend.

*This is the point in the schedule that I am writing this post*

Saturday night: We will drive back to Lancaster, PA (4hrs) and stay in a hotel.

Sunday: Anabaptist church service- ALL DAY. And when I say all day, I mean ALL DAY. Spend the night with an ex-Amish family we met last week.

Monday: Return home (5hrs), probably really late in the evening.

Tuesday: Sonny returns to work and I'll have to face the BIGGEST mess of my life. I mean, it's a really, REALLY big mess of stuff we unpacked, storage boxes dug through, clean laundry, dirty laundry, and all the stuff we unloaded from the trip. This is the most overwhelming thought of my life right now.

Wednesday: Cassie's 7th Birthday, YMCA, and riding lessons.

*sigh*

Life is busy.
I go to the YMCA three times a week.
Practice hypnobabies for a pain free birth.
Getting the hobby farm ready for winter.
Homeschool.
Adjusting.
Stuff like that.
Going to be travelling a lot this week.
Not looking forward to it.
But I'll get a lot of knitting done!

I'm checking in at Xanga just because it's been so long since I've written.

^^ I'm 8wks pregnant today. For now I've decided to have a hospital birth with an epidural on my mind. I'm making this decision based first on fear, secondly on money, and third on immediate postpartum care. I see an OB/GYN tomorrow for a consultation. This outta be interesting.

^^ Sonny got the flu real bad two weeks ago. He thinks it was H1N1 because of its severity, the fact that others in his office also got very sick, and coworkers' children were diagnosed with H1N1. I found out that elderberry was proven to be more effective at preventing or minimizing the flu by binding with the virus and preventing it from entering host cells in your body, therefore dying off and not being able to reproduce. The kids and I all went on elderberry syrup, EmergenC, and garlic and none of us got sick! A miracle! So we take elderberry syrup preventatively now.

^^ I did a one week free trial at a really nice gym that also had a daycare center. I really enjoyed myself. I went four times that week and took water aerobics. I felt so much better and it was nice to have a place to "escape" to when my attitude went funky. I signed a three-year contract at $95/mo for the whole family, but Sonny wasn't too excited about it. We got out of the contract within the three day grace period and instead signed up with the YMCA. The military has a special agreement with the Y so that our whole family can go for free. The Y is closer, has childcare, and water aerobics... for FREE!!!

^^ After three years I am pleased to report that we finally have a REAL chicken coop! Sonny finished it yesterday. Training the chickens to actually lay their eggs in there will be a challenge.

^^ I continue to try to sort out recovery from losing the Heise children and dealing with my anger towards Michele. It's easy to "go there" when I run into little reminders of them throughout the day; there are many. Hanging clothes on the line (doing any sort of laundry) seems to be the biggest trigger. It's hard to remember the real enemy in this situation. It's not Michele. It's Satan. But I often find myself wanting to lash out at Michele. I'm working on forgiveness. It is so hard when I'm so hurt. Micah, Valerie, and Daniel all have birthdays in October. I wish so much that I could see her again. It's heartbreaking that I have been ousted out of her life. I have little ways I can get word to her, but I haven't been trying. I just stay away. I might try to sneak her a birthday wish though.

^^ We watched the Christy series on DVD recently. I loved that series until I watched the last one. That totally ruined it. I now hate the whole thing. I can't believe they made it such a cliff hanger on purpose! Thankfully I found out how it really ended in real life, but it just wasn't the same satisfying experience as it would have been if they had filmed an ending. So that left a real bad taste in my mouth for that movie.

^^ I've been sewing a lot. I set up a sewing room in Valerie's old room in the outback. I can't use it when it's cold because I don't have heat yet. But I try to get in there at least nightly when it's reasonably temped. I'm selling some bloomers on eBay. No bites yet. I'm working on a historical ensemble for a girl, size 14. After that I'm going to sew up a dress for Brietta. Next up: a formal gown for a Navy event we have to go to end of November, and an early 1900's farm dress for myself.

^^ I lost 16lbs in the last 8wks. Four of those pounds I lost while I was pregnant! I'm surprised at how much I was able to lose. It's encouraging to know I can actually do it! I'm trying to hang on to my new eating lifestyle, but it's hard.

^^ Seth started Kindergarten home school this year. He's so eager to learn, and he's so smart. Cassie is racing through the tail end of her K curriculum from last year that we flaked on because she desperately wants to be in first grade. Funny thing is that this K curriculum is somewhat advanced, so she's already doing a lot of 1st grad stuff anyway. Grace is doing Horizons preschool along side us. We school almost every day, sometimes through the weekend if they want to. I'm really surprised at how consistent we have been. We don't do it the same time and place every day, but it gets done.

I'm having a hard time. I feel like life is too big for me; too much. I want to feel like I have control over things. I don't. I'm still angry over different things. Last night I watched a video with Sara Groves. A couple of things I got from that video are: #1, if you have an idea, do it. And, #2, I want my children to see me running through life with my head back, like a candle- wick and wax burned up. At the end of my life I want to have burned down to the ground.

I read about "victim mentality" online yesterday because that's what I have. And basically got the jist that things happen beyond our control and I have a choice (or control) over how I respond when things happen. This morning when I felt the agitation over what happened with Michele I stopped myself and thought, 'I can just do it and have control over my own life.'

But then BOOM, I recall my role of being submitted to God and husband. And yes, both have had their share of causing me great injury. I believe I've forgiven them both, at least mostly, but I still feel like I could easily be a victim again if I hand over control. Seriously, my life gets increasingly more difficult and painful the more I surrender my control. Just what am I to do?

Victim mentality. I honestly feel like an abused dog curled up in a corner licking my injured paw.

It's 4:30am and I can't sleep.  The first three hours of my night's rest was spent tossing and turning, dreaming about home birthing and hospital birthing and OB/GYNs.  The last two hours were spent trying to fall asleep but thinking too much (oh, and having to dislodge and ingrown thumbnail didn't help! OUCH!)   No wonder I don't sleep well at night!  I dream and process during sleep so much I hardly have a moment's peace!

I told y'all that I was pursuing a hospital birth.  HA!  What a joke!  I guess I imagined I'd just go in there and either get my way or become a compliant "good patient."  HA HA HA!  I went to see an OB/GYN today.  That right there shows that I was not thinking straight.  I needed a jolt back into reality.  LOL!

The whole drive there my heart was pounding and skipping beats, and I felt like I was going to have the runs because I was so nervous.  I checked in at the front desk, confirmed they don't do abortions at this clinic (I check ahead of time so that I can leave if they do), and filled out the paperwork.  My hands were so shaky because I was so nervous.

It was a polite place to be.  Nice atmosphere.  The brochure spoke of individualized care and family centered birth, etc.  It was nice (for a change).  My blood pressure was 138/? which is pretty high for me.  The nurse showed concern, but I brushed it off by saying, "Oh, that's just because I'm scared to death.  My blood pressure is usually in the 120's or teens."

So I wait a while, and then this young (late 30's) OB/GYN with a moderate Spanish accent greets me with a friendly handshake.  Let the show begin! 

"How can I help you today?  Is this your first pregnancy?"
"My sixth."
"Oh!  And how were your other births?  All healthy?"
"Yup."
"All vaginal?"
"Nope.  First one was a cesarean."
"But the others were natural?"
"Yup.  Three were born at home."
(no weird reaction from him, which was pleasantly refreshing)
"So what can I do for you?"
"Well, first of all I'm a nervous wreck because I haven't had good experiences with OB/GYN's.  So I want to know what your thoughts are for me and labor and delivery."

At this point the Dr., in his friendly, easy-going, honest way, was up front about how he would manage labor because I'm a VBAC mom.  Nothing too out of the ordinary for an OB.  I was surprised to hear he wouldn't induce a VBAC, and that any augmentation of labor would be considered with fear and trembling.  But one "requirement" really snagged with me:

"When you come into the hospital in labor I will insert an internal fetal monitor onto the baby's scalp to better closely monitor his condition."
"Would you break the amnion to do that, or do external monitoring until the water breaks on its own?"
"I would break the waters to insert the IFM."
(I must have made quite the face, because he continued...)
"What?  You are not comfortable with something?"
"Yeah, I really disagree with breaking the amnion for an IFM when it isn't necessary.  Especially for me when I've already had four VBACs."

He continued on to present his reasoning and why it was important, but I stuck to my guns.

"It took me a lot of bravery to come in here today.  And I understand that you have your policies, and the hospital has its policies.  I come here knowing that I am going to have to compromise in order to receive care here, and I hope that you could do some compromising on your end, too, if there's going to be any sort of individualized care.  The fact of the matter is I know my body better than you do, and I know what's going to be helpful, and what's going to cause me trouble.  You say VBAC is risky.  I understand the uterine rupture rate is about .5%.  Considering my history I'm probably much lower than that, maybe a .05% chance of rupture.  That means I have a 99.95% chance of absolutely nothing going wrong with my labor.  And yet in spite of the odds being completely in my favor you are calling it risky, and are willing to perform an unnecessary intervention when it's more likely to cause harm instead of any benefit whatsoever."

We talk some more... I can't remember what was discussed.  But the nice thing about this guy was that he listened to me. I mean, he REALLY listened.  He didn't blow me off or roll his eyes like other Dr's I dealt with.  He asked good questions.  He was 'right there' with me, though we both stood our ground with our convictions, there was an element of respect.  He gave me credit, and in return I offered him understanding.

We discussed lawsuits and bad outcomes. I included:

"I really believe people sue too much, and it's not fair to you guys."
(he nods)
"Things happen!  If I come in here and have a uterine rupture and my baby dies, attempting the VBAC was my choice, and I will take responsibility for it.  I value the fact that I have a choice.  The other OB/GYNs were telling me I didn't have a choice, and I didn't appreciate that one bit!"

He even asked my why I objected to his policy of routine rupture of membranes for IFM:
"Routine rupture of membranes would be a very bad thing for me.  I have a slightly android shaped pelvis that predisposes me to have posterior babies.  Every single one of my babies have been posterior.  What am I going to do when you rupture my membranes, and that cushiony bubble is gone, and my baby's posterior head wedges into my pelvis in a posterior position and now has no room to turn?  And for what reason?"

At this point the Dr. seemed to lean in with genuine interest in what I was saying.  He mentioned his training in NYC, about how "This is policy.  Never stray from policy or you'll be in danger of trouble!"  He mentioned that he never had a bad experience personally, but he's seen them.  He shared that he used to be more strict but has let up a bit.  I continued:

"I know you care.  I know you want to help me and do what's right.  But I want to really, REALLY encourage you to ask yourself the question, "Why?"  Why do you do what you do.  Think for yourself and make your own judgements.  That is individualized care.  Not just sticking to policy.  ACOG isn't perfect.  I know what they say.  I had an OB/GYN pull out the Compendium and point here, here, and here to support her ideas.  So I went out and purchased my own copy, read it, and pointed out here, here and here about why she was wrong."

"It can go both ways."
"Right!  That's why we need to ask ourselves why, and think out of the box."

Some more discussion took place that I can't remember... A lot about how he's going to ask someone else in the practice if they'd consider my request.  I could tell he was very tempted about straying from protocol about the rupture and IFM because he liked what I had to say, and he appreciated that I was educated and knew what I was talking about.  But it wasn't quite enough (yet) for him to take the leap.  But then the best part came when he asked me:

"So, what is it that you have learned about getting a posterior baby to turn; these techniques of your's?"
(as I sat there with my legs crossed, leaned back into my chair, I began...)
"Well, this right here is bad because my pelvis is set on a slant.  I should be sitting up straight, like this, allowing the pelvis to tilt forward and my belly to come out.  I want to keep my knees down and a forward-leaning posture.  That encourages the baby's back to turn to the front.  But if I lean back like this, or recline like we all want to do at the end of pregnancy, then the baby tends to want to roll to the other side.  The worst thing I can do during labor is sit on my butt so if I have an epidural I'd lie on my side.  Or better yet, get on all fours with my butt in the air so that baby's head can dislodge from my pelvis and rotate."

He got really wide eyed and interested.  Our consultation ended with him wanting to go home and do some more research because what I was telling him was very interesting. 

After I walked out of there I was invigorated, empowered, confident!  But most of all I was reminded of my own strength and knowledge, and of my ability to give birth.  I came out thinking, "I don't need an epidural.  I don't need their interventions.  I don't need them."  I still rescheduled with the same Doc, even though he looked as though he wanted to transfer my care to another guy.  The likelihood of me having a hospital birth is pretty slim now.  I guess I just needed that as a reminder of why I left medicalized birth in the first place.

Tonight before bed I asked Sonny, "What do you think?  Since I don't know what I want, what do you want?"

"Home birth has been really nice so far," he replied.

I'm not going to say "that settles it," but it's pretty darned close. 

How do I grieve?
What will start the flow of tears?
How long will my spirit bleed?

It's kind of like a healthy, rushing brook.
Crisp, clean, life supporting water gushing over rock and sand.
Life leaps in it, and the waters clean and nurish whatever comes near.
But suddenly someone comes along and bulldozes dirt into the water.
Load after load is dumped in one place until the waters are stopped.
All that comes out the other end is a muddy seeping through sticks and debris.

My gut is packed with grief.
The flow of joy stopped by filth.
My face is wan with the blows of the offender.
Smiles are hard to come by. Nausea intrudes.
My heart is sick.

My consolation is this:
that we did what God asked of us
that we did the best we knew how
that we know our sacrifice was not in vain
because He works all things to the good for those who love Him and are called according to His purposes.

So now we wait. Michele will have to come back for her belongings eventually. This whole fiasco is not over yet. I'm praying. Are you?

I'm having a hard time controlling my anger.  So far so good, but I hate feeling this way.  It makes an otherwise good day turn foul.

The gossip is at it again.
The liar is also going full force.

I'm sick of it.  I just want give this person a piece of my mind!  I wonder if the person is demonized or something.  Seriously.

Well, I freecycled a garment box today.  Sonny put it out back yesterday and I found a taker for it today.  I went to move it from the back yard to the front for the person to pick it up and discovered the closet pole part is missing.  Yep, the kids got into it and lost it.  So I went searching for it.

The front yard is not a place I normally visit.  The kids play out there, and Sonny goes out there, but I prefer the back steps and so do not often find myself actually IN the front yard.  Ugh.  When I went searching for that garment pole in the front yard I was very angry to find:
-tree branches broken
-garbage everywhere (not an exaggeration)
-the new vinyl table clothes on the picnic tables were ripped off
-indoor toys dredged in the dirt
-clothing strewn around, left inside out
-cups, bowls, plates, and silverware thrown about
-broken swing set pieces left under the tree
-shoes under the porch, on the steps, and in the grass
-broken wagons
-of all the years we've lived here this is the first time the grass has been worn to sandy bare patches

I wanted to throw up from how sick the scene made me feel.  I already feel very disrespected by The Liar and The Gossip, and let me just say the kids haven't been too kind to the possessions on the inside of the house either.  I just feel REALLY disrespected. 

Never did find the garment pole.

After over two years of pestering Sonny, trying to hire someone, trying to barter and having the person back out twice, I finally set my fear of power tools aside and apprehension about cutting the boards correctly and decided to give it a try at getting the chicken coop done.  I got all ready, laid out, measured, complete with safety glasses, pulled the trigger on the skilsaw and it spun.  I let go of the trigger and spun it a few more times to get a feel for the trigger, lined the blade up, and pressed the button again. 

Nothing.

That's just my luck.

I mean, really, who else has this kind of thing happen to them?  The skilsaw won't work for me anymore.  So I closed up shop and marched back to the house