Postpartum in Songs

Usually when I get a song stuck in my head, it's because I've heard or thought a phrase of its lyrics. In my sleep-deprived and preoccupied state of mind, that's been happening more often, and the small handful of songs are surprisingly consistent. In fact, they paint a pretty accurate picture of my life lately. Let's explore—and keep in mind that just because a song gets stuck in my head doesn't necessarily mean I like or recommend it 😂

"Beautiful Letdown" by Switchfoot
Trigger Phrase: "It was a beautiful letdown when you found me here."
If you breastfeed, you know why.

"Dear Agony" by Breaking Benjamin
Trigger Phrase: "Dear agony, please let go of me."
This one was really just during the first few days of nursing where Elle's initial latch was one of the most painful things I've ever experienced, every time. So 8–12 times a day.

"Breath" by Breaking Benjamin
Trigger Phrase: "You take the breath right out of me."
Another one we can thank the pain of breastfeeding for.

"It's Ok I'm Ok" by Tate McRae
Trigger Phrase: "It's okay, I'm okay, had him in the first place."
There are a few phrases that automatically come out of my mouth when soothing a crying Elle, and one of them is "It's okay, it's okay!" which triggers this little ditty 😂

"I Can Only Imagine" by MercyMe
Trigger Phrase: "I can only imagine."
Another phrase that pops out when Elle is losing it during a diaper change is "Oh I know," but then I realize that I might not. I can't actually remember my diaper being changed, and it's not like that's been an experience I've had lately, so I switched to saying, "I can imagine," because that feels more accurate and respectful. And it also sends me right back to early 2000s contemporary Christian radio.

"Last Friday Night" by Katy Perry
Trigger Phrase: "But this Friday night, do it all again."
The thing that threatens to drive me insane the most about the newborn stage is the relentless, inescapable repetition. So you got her to stop crying, great. But she'll cry more later and you'll have to do it all again. So you successfully breastfed her, great. In 2–3 hours you'll do it all again. So you changed her diaper, great. In a few minutes she'll poop and you'll do it all again.

"Shake It Out" by Florence & the Machine
Trigger Phrase: "But it's always darkest before the dawn."
Gabe and I have tried lots of ways to get sleep, and what's working for us right now is for him to have Elle and stay up from 10pm–4am, and for me to get up and start my day at 4am while he sleeps until 10am. It's the best system we've found so far, but MAN is that morning stretch tough on me. There is no feeling quite like being nap trapped in a nursing pillow, milk running down your body, shoulders aching, thirsting but unable to reach your water cup, frustrated and worried that the feed wasn't as long as you thought it should've been, staring at the dark world outside through the slats of the blinds. In both literal and metaphorical ways, I find myself counting on the phrase "it's always darkest before the dawn."

"Wasteland" by Dead By April
Trigger Phrase: "Is there something wrong, inside my head?"
I'm always worried that there's something wrong. What if Elle isn't latching well, what if her gas is due to something in my milk, what if her spit up was too much, what if she stops breathing while in the swing, what if she NEVER stops crying this time. "Is there something wrong?" goes through my head a million times a day.

"Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons
Trigger Phrase: "I'm waking up to ash and dust."
And as often as Elle naps, she wakes up. Sometimes she just wants to hang out, sometimes (usually) she wants to eat. Either way, the simple phrase "she's waking up" that drifts through my head sets off this Imagine Dragons song.

How's newborn life? It's...well, it's kinda bad? Elle is the cutest and we love her so much, but we're so tired and those feelings of ENDLESSNESS and paranoia and entrapment threaten to swallow me many times a day. But we have an incredible village and I am living the life I have long prayed for and I know I'll look back and miss these days when Elle is big 💚

~Stephanie

Over, Under, Appropriately Hyped: Postpartum Edition

I gave up TikTok for Lent and haven't been back, but last time I was in the world of BookTok there was a trend of holding up a book and simply saying whether you thought it was under-hyped, over-hyped, or appropriately hyped. I've been thinking about that a lot in terms of postpartum experiences, so let's play Under-, Over-, or Appropriately Hyped: Postpartum Edition.

Breastfeeding, General: Appropriately Hyped
People said that breastfeeding was really challenging, but magical. I would concur...although it is way more challenging than I could have imagined. My friend Caitlyn told me that she read a study saying that a week of breastfeeding is the energy equivalent of working a sixty-hour work week.



Breastfeeding, Nipple Pain: Under-Hyped
People said that your nipples could get sore at first, but no one told me that for days I'd literally be biting a rolled up rag like a Civil War soldier having surgery without anesthesia every time Elle latched.

First Postpartum Poop: Over-Hyped
Everyone made this out to be terrifying, but in my case, it was not. I think it's probably because I only had a first degree tear, I took all the stool softeners offered me, I elevated my feet when I went, and I had braced myself for the experience to be an ordeal.

Sleeplessness: Appropriately Hyped
People say the lack of sleep is bad, and...it is XD There was one night that I was staring at the clock and I couldn't even get my eyes to focus. It was 44:4444 o'lock. Fortunately Gabe is a one-in-a-million partner and takes the first night shift (like 10pm–2am) all by himself so that I can get sleep at least at the beginning.

Postpartum Peeing: Under-Hyped
The first postpartum poop is discussed a lot, but why are y'all not talking how it BURNS TO PEE every time, even three weeks in?! This is way worse than pooping. Yeah, I tried the peri bottle trick of spraying while you pee, and IT STILL HURTS. The only time it doesn't hurt is if I pee in the shower, so...there's that lovely little tip for anyone currently pregnant.

Breastfeeding Hunger: Over-Hyped
I have a theory about why I haven't experienced the notorious ravenousness that comes with breastfeeding: I've been stuffing my face every since I got back from the hospital XD I don't think I've even given myself a shot at being ravenous.

Postpartum Hormones: Under-to-Appropriately Hyped
I was told that I would cry a lot and that there would be moments where I would loathe my husband. Days 6–10 were the most emotional for me (might do a post on all the things that made me cry during that span 😂), but I haven't LOATHED Gabe yet. There have been a handful of times when I was really annoyed at him, but I was able to acknowledge that they were hormonal feelings and didn't make real sense.

First Postpartum Nap: Under-Hyped
We came home with Elle on a Wednesday night, "slept" that night, and Mom came over the next day to help us settle. That afternoon, I took a two-hour nap.

Oh. My. Gosh.

When Gabe woke me up because Elle needed to nurse...for the first five seconds, I had no identity. I had been called back from a region of such deep Nothingness that I genuinely could not have told you my own name or species. It was like being raised from the actual dead. I've never slept that deeply in my life, and probably never will again.

Secret Moms' Club: Under-Hyped
Ever since I had Elle, mom friends have been checking in on me and encouraging me and it's been the most beautiful and humbling thing. I had no idea that all these women my age were in the trenches together and that having a baby would initiate me into such a special pocket of my village. Y'all are such a bright light in what can sometimes be a dark and lonely season.

I would say that overall, postpartum comes out to be appropriately hyped...but also under-hyped. And it's no one's fault, I just didn't understand what people were telling me. It's kind of like marriage: everyone tells you that it's really hard, and you're like, "Okay, got it, I hear you, it's really hard," but then you DO it and you're like, "Oh JEEZUS, it's like HARD hard, in ways I didn't even have categories for before."

Since everyone was right about postpartum and the newborn stage being tough, I will hold out hope that they're also right in that it doesn't last forever, and that it will be worth it ;)

~Stephanie

Birth Blog 4/4: After

I don't know when I took the eye mask off, but suddenly Baby Elle was on my chest and I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe I had done it. I couldn't believe it was over. I couldn't believe she was real.*

Gabe was right next to me, crying joyful tears.

After a few minuets of sheer...awe, I felt some more contractions, but more of the period cramp variety, if I remember correctly.

"Here comes the placenta," the doctor said, and I remember being like Oh, right.

I did have to push it out, but it was like one or two pushes. Incredibly minimal. You know what wasn't minimal though?

The placenta XD That thing looks like a heart crossed with a liver. It is very much an entire organ that my body grew for Elle. And it was connected to Elle by the umbilical cord.

Someone (the doctor? Gabe? Me?) reminded everyone that I wanted delayed cord clamping.

"Until it turns white or stops pulsing," I said. I don't know/remember if that was respected, but I don't have a reason to think it wasn't.

When it was time, the doctor asked if Gabe wanted to cut the cord. This was something that had actually been up in the air for months. We'd talked about it, but Gabe wasn't sure. However, in the moment, he said that yes, he wanted to, so when the time came, Gabe did the cutting.

At some point, the doctor asked if I wanted him to see if I tore. I said yes. He looked and said it was a first degree tear, the smallest kind. He asked if I wanted stitches, I asked for pros and cons and he gave them to me (something like if it heals on its own, it'll always be a little fragile, whereas stitches would virtually repair the tear). I consented and got three stitches.

During all of this, time was such a fluid, elusive concept. I can't tell you how long anything took or how long passed between things. I know our skin-to-skin time was uninterrupted for the first hour before they took her (just across the room, with Gabe) to weigh her (6lb 1oz) and measure her length (20in) and stuff.



Oh, this picture reminds me: I had labored in a sports bra, which meant I couldn't just pop it off for complete skin-to-skin or breastfeeding because of all the IV bullcrap in my arm. Pregnant ladies: labor in a bra that you can easily remove or pull down, cuz I almost had Gabe or Cass cut this off with a knife until one of the nurses intervened and helped me get the bra off around the IV cords.

Eventually, a nurse (Kim and Noelle were the labor nurses and they were incredible) asked me if I could or wanted to try to pee. I looked at the clock and was pretty alarmed that I hadn't peed in like seven hours. Very unlike me XD

While the nurse helped me walk to the bathroom, Gabe got his first skin-to-skin time with Elle :) He tells me he cried the entire time. I love that man with every fiber of my being. He is already an incredible father.



I couldn't pee, which wasn't all that surprising since my body had been through a lot and I'm super pee-shy on a good day.

Eventually it was time to move from the delivery room to a recovery room. I think I went basically from the toilet to a wheelchair, and was shaking. Gabe asked if I was cold, and I said maybe, but that I thought it was mostly hormones. Some people get labor shakes; I got post-labor shakes.

I loaded up in the wheelchair and was given Elle. I don't think I stopped smiling for the whole trip to the recovery room. Every staff member we passed said, "Congratulations!" and it made me feel so special and seen :)

Gabe asked me a day or so later if there was anything about the birth experience that I would change. I thought about it, and said no. I stand by that.



As I lay in a hospital bed, I remember thinking, "I don't know if I'd be willing to do it again. That was really intense," but a couple of days later, I checked in with myself and found that I would TOTALLY be willing to do it again. Now, nine days postpartum, I'm actually thinking that the labor experience was super interesting and I love the power of letting my body do its thing. I would not be scared to labor again, but would actually kind of...look forward to it?

Hormones and memories are weird.

Postpartum has honestly felt more annoying than labor (but again, hormones + memories = weird conclusions), but maybe I'll blog about that another time.

Baby Elle is...magical. Perfect. A dream. A promise fulfilled. I'll never get over the goodness of God or the kindness of our village.



~Stephanie

*Like, really really couldn't believe it. Throughout the rest of the evening, I would semi-panic that it was a dream and Baby Elle would be gone and I'd have to do labor all over again for real. Cass asked if I could really dream that much "pain" and I said yeah, absolutely. She asked if there was anything I couldn't do in a dream, and I realized that yes: I've never been able to taste things in my dreams. So I clung to the fact that a nurse had brought me a juice cocktail, and that Mom would be bringing me muffins soon. After I ate the muffins, I would know it was all real.

Birth Blog 3/4: Pushing

- As we prepared for me to push, I told the doctor that I didn't want to push on my back and I didn't want to tear. He told me that pushing on my side was usually an effective position, and that they would put a warm compress on my perineum to help it not tear.

- I agreed to push side-lying. I'd always figured that I would want to push on my hands and knees or on my knees and gripping the headboard, but I found that I didn't. My body actually wanted to be some form of lying down.

- In fact...my body was so...focused? on contractions that it didn't feel like it could do much of anything else, like even hold up my top leg while side lying to give space for a baby to emerge. A nurse pulled out one of the bed's stirrup footrests and I braced my right foot against it. Gabe held my left/top leg up for me. I remember being frustrated because I felt like he wasn't supporting it well enough. I wanted to support my leg ZERO.

- Gabe's back acted up and Cassidy took over holding my leg. She made me feel a lot more stable and I remember telling Gabe to ask her what she was doing and replicate it. (Remember, eye mask. I saw nothing.)

- When it was really really time to push, I told the doctor I wanted to let my uterus do it. He said that he thought I was going to need to add active pushing if I wanted the baby to come out. I told him that I genuinely didn't think I COULD push harder than my uterus was pushing. Like, my uterus was contracting my absolute guts out; I couldn't imagine having anything to add.

- For the record, I still believe that my uterus could have done it on its own, that I could have "breathed out" the baby, BUT here's the thing: I also wanted this to be over XD So I decided to try to push with the contractions, as impossible as that sounded.

- One nurse asked me to take off the eye mask so she could show me something, and I did. She mimed and explained pushing/breathing DOWN with each contraction. All my energy and breath should be driven down and out my body. I replaced the eye mask and pushing began.

- It was...hard. All the animal noises. But it wasn't...painful. It was—even in the moment—interesting. My body was doing its thing. I was helping. It was HARD. I was NOT in control, but I could assist.

- The baby's head began emerging, and I felt the infamous "ring of fire." I thought it would be a ring of fire that the baby moved through, but it turns out if your baby pauses IN the ring to wait for another contraction, the fire stays with you.

- That hurt. For a little bit.

- But then it was all head-head-head-ears-shoulders-WHOLE BODY BLOOPED OUT. After twenty minutes of me pushing, Gabrielle Ember was born at 7:21pm on May 5.



- And...I actually—and this is wild to me because I deliberately tried to record EVERYTHING in my mind—can't remember if it stopped hurting?

- But she was suddenly on my chest, all goopy and still attached to me with the umbilical cord.

- "That was inside of me," I said, awed. Everyone chuckled.

- And everything else is After.

~ Stephanie

Birth Blog 2/4: Active Labor

Memories of active labor are dim and dreamlike. Here's what I can tell you:

- Room was too bright and I asked for the eye mask from my hospital bag.

- I would wear the eye mask for the end of early labor, all of active labor, and all of pushing. In the movie adaptation of my labor, the eye mask will be billed and compensated just below the actor playing me.

- I labored on the bed on a hospital yoga ball: on my knees, forearms on the ball, rocking back and forth. Gabe rolled the ball with me and kept it from rolling off the end of the bed.

- Cassidy started filling the room's labor pool. It seemed like the hospital staff didn't know when or how to do it? There was discussion between Gabe and Cass about how to get the temperature right or how to fill it or something, and Cass told me the other day that apparently I said to her and Gabe, "Stop talking about the tub." I don't remember 😂 

- Laboring in the tub felt better...but it was still bad. Really intense. Really, really intense. The contractions started to scare me. I started to dread each one. I told Gabe I was scared, and he continued to talk to me and tell me that my body was doing exactly what it was supposed to do, to listen to my body, to surrender and breathe, that I was doing an amazing job, that I was strong, that God designed my body for this.

- I asked for water. I needed it through a straw. Funnily enough, Mom had given me a little portable straw in a keychain for Christmas, so Gabe whipped that out and stuck it in my water bottle. But pretty soon I was drinking ice water from a hospital cup. I would just say, "Water" and Gabe or Cassidy would stick a straw in front of my eye-masked face and I'd sip.

- My moaning and humming were crazy loud and desperate sounding. I was surprised that I didn't care who heard me.

- I know I said I couldn't do it anymore a few (quite a few?) times. Gabe assured me that I could.

- The hospital staff did a ton of SUPER annoying things to me (taking the baby's vitals via some kind of band wrapped around my stomach, drawing my blood?!), some of which required me to be out of the tub, which I did NOT want to do, so everyone figured out how to get me out of the water enough to make it work. I hiked my right leg up and put it on the rim of the tub and fully leaned over the side while Gabe supported my whole body. I remember the immense relief I felt when I could just flop all my weight back and have him take it.

The anesthesiologist stopped by to talk about epidurals, but we (Gabe, maybe?) asked him to come back later, basically as a stalling tactic because we knew we didn't want that. He did not come back XD

- I was surprised at how easy it was for me to stay in my "labor flow." Prep classes talked about how if a laboring woman is disturbed (startled, embarrassed, asked to make rational choices when she needs to be all up in her instincts) it can slow or reverse labor progress. Well, that did not happen to me. I was in my labor flow and would not be coming out.

- I remember the transition into proper active labor. Instead of intense period cramps, a contraction actually felt like me and my uterus were throwing up in unison. You know the feeling of throwing up, that involuntary heaving pressure in your chest and throat? That happened to me (sans vomit), but it also happened in my lower abdomen. My uterus was trying to throw up a baby.

- At first, those throwing up contractions were every once in a while. Then they were consistently every other contraction. I HATED them. I hate the uncontrollable feeling of throwing up, and having it in my uterus was no different.

- All through this, Gabe was talking to me. He was the voice in my head. I had nothing else. I let him be my thoughts, and I focused on being my body. When he would tell me he loved me, I would feel my heart squeeze and my shoulders relax and the contractions' intensity literally receded like an ocean wave being drawn back into the sea.

- A nurse asked me if I was feeling pressure during contractions, similar to having to poop. I said yes. She asked if the pressure stayed between contractions or if it was only during. It was only during, but the nurse still thought I was close to the pushing stage. She wanted me to get out of the labor tub and into the bed. I remember resisting because I didn't believe I was that close to pushing. I didn't think the baby was really down there. I guess I thought I'd be able to feel her coming down, like toothpaste getting squeezed out of a tube. So far, she felt like she was in the same place and I just had some pressure down there for...some reason. But I got (well, was walked with HEAVY help from Gabe) to the bed.

- I was cold because I was wet. And pantsless (when had I taken my shorts off?). And maybe also getting some labor shakes. They brought me a warm blanket or something.



- Pretty soon, ALL the contractions were the the throwing up kind. No more period cramps. Only CONTRACTING and not contracting. And even the not contracting was, like...intense. All of it was intense, all the time, but a contraction was on another level that took me to another plane of existence.

- I was making ANIMAL sounds. Or really, my body was. I was a helpless passenger in the mech of my body. I could hear myself grunting, groaning, sounding like a gorilla or a boar or something, but I was not choosing to make those sounds. All I could do was choose to keep my jaw and shoulders as relaxed as possible and wait for my uterus to stop throwing up and my mouth to stop bellowing like a beast.

- Eventually the "pressure like you have to poop" wasn't just with contractions, it was all the time. They called in the doctor. Someone (Cass? Gabe? Nurse? Doctor?) said they could see the baby's head. I did not believe them.

- I consented to a cervical check to confirm that it was time to push. I didn't want to push before my body was ready, because I really didn't want to tear. The cervical check was hands down the most painful part of the entire experience. I was not able to keep my moans low in my body, my jaw open, or my shoulders relaxed. I heard myself actually SCREAM.

- But it was time to push.

~Stephanie

Birth Blog 1/4: Early Labor

Water Breaking
My water broke at 6:30 while I was in bed, 36 weeks 6 days pregnant.

I felt a little moisture between my legs, stuck a finger down there to see what was up, and went, "Huh." I mean yeah, there was moisture, but pregnancy has been one type of discharge after another so I didn't think a ton of it at first.

But then I rolled over and it felt like someone had popped a water balloon between my legs.

"Oh."

The bathroom door to my left was shut, meaning that Gabe was in there getting ready for work.

"Gabe." Nothing. "Gabe. Gabe!" He opened the door. "My water broke."

"Are you s—" His gaze dropped to the giant spot on the sheets, the drips making their way down to soak the carpet.

"Yes." I got up and hobbled to the bathroom. When I sat on the toilet, gushes more surged out. It sounded like I was peeing, which I called to Gabe. "That's not pee! That's my water!"

I was not nervous or scared. I hadn't had any signs of early labor or anything, but she didn't feel early to me.

"I guess we're having a baby," I said.

Gabe stared at me. "...yep."

Early Labor


The next few hours were mostly pretty chill.

I texted our doula, Jocelyn, who lives in Florida. She'd been planning to fly up May 18, but on short notice the earliest she could get to NC was 10pm, so Gabe and I decided to switch the plan to virtual care with her, via texting and video chat if need be.

Since I was feeling good and my water (which was continuing to gush out in random bursts as I went about the house) was clear, I felt good about laboring at home—despite what the obgyn on-call nurse seemed to assume. I called the office to let them know what was going on, and the nurse said to go to the hospital if I didn't start contracting within in the next hour. Fortunately after a couple of laps up and down our street, I thought I could feel some tiny baby period cramps and called them contractions.

There were two small scares that morning: 1) I suddenly realized about 7:30 that I couldn't remember the last time the baby had moved. You can imagine the games my head played until she finally nudged me again. 2) Some of the water coming out of me was very slightly pink tinged, so Jocelyn suggested we go to the obgyn and see if everything was good. Some blood is normal, but the way it was very mixed in with the amniotic fluid was questionable.

However, at the 10:30am obgyn appointment, the baby's heartbeat was great, it was so obvious that my water had broken that they didn't even test it, and Dr. D'Angelo seemed shocked and vaguely impressed that I declined a cervical check. As far as I'd learned in birth prep, the baby was gonna come on her own time and at her own pace, so knowing how dilated I was at the time would mean nothing.

We stopped at Biscuitville on the way home and got sausage, egg, and cheese biscuits for ourselves and my best friend Cassidy, who I'd called in. I thought about calling Sarah, my sister, and her kids to come over, knowing that toddlers would be the BEST distraction from uncomfortable-but-non-urgent early labor. However, I wanted to see how things progressed.

At home, between bites of biscuit, Gabe finished packing and loaded the hospital bags into the car while Cassidy and I meal prepped some frozen breakfast burritos that I'd meant to make the week before. It came up in conversation that the red raspberry leaf tea I'd been drinking to prepare my uterus might've worked a little too well, and then it occurred to me that maybe drinking it would speed up my labor too. I started chugging, and uh.

It worked.

The tiny baby contractions moved quickly into full-blown period cramps that were very distracting. Whenever they got so intense that I couldn't talk through them, we would start timing.

At some point, Gabe and Cass got the labor pool ready: an inflatable thing from Target that we set up on the back patio and began filling with the hose, adding boiling water to it to try to get the temperature more comfortable.

There are a couple of characters in the TV show Friends who get pregnant, and we'd saved all those episodes to watch during my early labor to get my mind off things, so we started the first of four episodes while the pool filled and water boiled. Cass and Gabe sat on couches, I sat on a big yoga ball, bouncing and rolling through contractions—which Gabe had started timing with an app. Apparently they were close and consistent enough that the app was telling us to go to the hospital, but I could still talk through them so I felt like we should wait. Well, I insisted we wait.

Two-thirds of the way through the first Friends episode I paused it to go to the bathroom, and when the next contraction hit on the toilet, I realized that they were a LOT worse when I couldn't be on the yoga ball. I finished my business and called Gabe in. I only wanted him during this phase. I moved into our closet (attached to the bathroom) and started laboring on all fours on the floor. When I would drop onto my forearms, my t-shirt rode up and got in and mouth, which pissed me off, so I took it off.

As the contractions got more and more intense, Gabe gently began suggesting we listen to the app (we were on its sixth or seventh nudge to go to the hospital). I resisted.

"I can talk through them," I said, rocking on my hands and knees. "The birth course said to wait until you can't talk through them, and even the in-between time is tough. That's not happening yet."

But it was real uncomfortable XD Through each contraction, I hummed and moaned deep in my throat, careful to keep my sounds low and my jaw and shoulders relaxed. I told Gabe that I either wanted to get in the labor pool or use my labor combs. He brought me the combs, and they made a HUGE difference. I would grip them during contractions and the teeth pressed into my palms, doing something scientific pressure-point-wise.

Around 3:45pm Gabe convinced me that it was time to go to the hospital. I still didn't believe that it was and I was convinced the staff would laugh at me for coming in so early, but I told Gabe that I trusted him and that if he really wanted me to go, we could go.

We got in the car and Cass followed. Laboring in the car was super, super uncomfortable. I don't remember much about the drive, and my memories get dimmer from here on out. I remember Gabe taking a curve in the road too sharply for my taste and me loudly demanding that he NOT do ANYTHING like that AGAIN because it made me feel like I was going to throw up. I also told him to talk to me during contractions. "Talk about how they're not pain, they're power." I was surprised at how breathless I sounded. "Tell me I'm strong and my body was made for this." And he did. "LOUDER" I snapped at one point, because my moaning and humming had escalated. "You've gotta be louder than I am."

We arrived at the hospital and there was some parking drama because I couldn't walk the length of the garage, but I also didn't want Gabe to drop me off and leave me to go park. In the end, that was what happened though, and a security guard (?) wheeled me into the labor and delivery department.

I remember the breeze on my face as he wheeled me felt really nice. The contractions really did not.

The journey to the check-in counter is a blur of fluorescent lights and disembodied voices. Gabe caught up to us as I was checking in with...some female behind a counter. She was asking me questions (we had preregistered at the hospital) and I was answering them with my eyes closed, fists clenching the labor combs for dear life even between contractions, which were like really intense period cramps...I think? I don't remember filing away a different way to describe them.

When Gabe arrived he took over answering questions, and I thanked God for the bazillionth time that I have a husband who loves me and pays attention to me and whom I can trust to speak for me when I can't.

Got to a triage room, was put onto a hospital bed. More disembodied voices, annoying questions. Cassidy caught up with us at this point. I agreed to a cervical check and was told that I was 4cm dilated, and that usually the first four take the longest.

Next, a labor room.

~ Stephanie

This Might Might Be Completely and Utterly a "Me" Problem

As happens a lot, I had a revelation about three quarters of the way through this post, which resulted in a totally unexpected worldview shift. Come along for the journey below 😂

I've been procrastinating a blog topic for a while now because...well, for two reasons. 1) It's a big topic. It's going to require a lot of thinking/processing/wrestling, and I haven't felt like doing that. 2) People are going to have Opinions, and I don't need them. It'd be too harsh to say I don't care about people's opinions, it's just that they won't factor into what I decide to do. In a way it feels misleading to blog about this (especially if I'm going to share the link to Facebook) and also be disinterested in conversation about the topic.

Okay, so what is the topic? My postpartum philosophy/plans.

There are two extremes and a million happy mediums in between. The two extremes: Bounce Back Boss Babe, and Healing Hibernating Hippie.

Bounce Back Boss Babe
You birth your baby and as quickly and seamlessly as possible get back on your feet cooking, cleaning, running errands, and taking your trendily dressed baby with you on light jogs.

- Very appealing from a pride standpoint—people will comment on how you have it all together, you can fake making motherhood look easy
- Required to some degree by American society. Even my company—which I LOVE working for and relies on family culture—only provides two weeks of paid maternity leave.
- What I saw growing up—especially from my dance teachers. They danced until they went into labor, and then sometimes performed in the recital like a week or two postpartum. Talk about #goals...right?

Healing Hibernating Hippie
Postpartum is treated as a sacred transitional time, where the mother is shielded from all strain and responsibility for weeks, fed in a way that prioritizes her healing, and cautioned against hosting visitors.

- Very appealing from a holistic, body-respectful standpoint—the first forty days of postpartum can allegedly make or break your entire experience of new motherhood
- Unquestionably accepted, nearly enforced, in many Eastern and Native American cultures.
- Radically different from anything I've ever seen anyone do. Granted, most women's postpartum experiences are pretty private (another Western thing), so I don't really know their approaches, but I'm guessing they didn't have a team making every single meal or keeping them warm around the clock.

I just started reading a book called The First Forty Days. I registered for it thinking that it was a cookbook on how to nourish a new mother, and it is...but around the first 55% is actually more philosophical. It's sparked a lot of feelings for me, most of which are summed up in this text to Cassidy:

It's probably that last sentence that really gets me. As a child, I was often told that I was lazy and selfish, which I've blogged about before. Although everyone in my life now tries to reassure me that that isn't true, internalized beliefs are hard to shift. Plus, both sides of my personality would like me to choose the Boss Babe approach to postpartum, albeit for different reasons.

The ENFJ in me desperately wants to behave in the most socially appropriate, commendable way. She doesn't want to be labeled as demanding or inconsiderate; she doesn't want people to talk about her behind her back; she doesn't want to ask more of her village than she has done for others. Yes, I've brought friends a meal or two—but I've also held the baby and watched the new mother do dishes or fold laundry, which is a huge No No in the Hibernating Hippie approach.

The Eight in me desperately wants to show the world how tough and capable I am. Due to sheer luck and the grace of God, I've had an extremely healthy, easy pregnancy. The Eight wants to carry that into postpartum and motherhood, proving that my mind and body are exceptionally strong. Not only does she shirk asking for help (something in common with the ENFJ), she shirks the idea of even needing it.

To be honest, I think I could get the Eight on board easier than the ENFJ. The Eight understands that the body keeps the score. Nourish the body and everything else becomes easier. I also really WANT to embrace the Hibernating Hippie approach, and the Eight thrives on fighting for what I want, even when it might make people annoyed or gossipy.

But I know that community is a powerful factor in motherhood, and community is the ENFJ's domain. She's the one who maintains and repairs relationship, and monitors when I'm being too "extra."

Obviously there are a million shades of medium between the Boss Babe and the Hibernating Hippie, and I'm sure I'll color myself accordingly when the time comes. It's just...modern American culture kinda sucks. I've been thinking so when it comes to religion for a long time, and now I'm learning that the suck extends to postpartum expectations too.

Gabe and I have an INCREDIBLE village, people who have already told us that they want to help in whatever way is most helpful and that they never want us to feel alone.

So...I am just now realizing that this might be completely and utterly a Me problem. No one has told me that I'm "extra." I've already said that people insist that I'm not lazy or selfish.

Wait, is the problem with postpartum that moms often can't make themselves ASK for help, not that their villages wouldn't show up?

*stares out the window for several seconds*

Is my real problem the vulnerability element? I don't want to appear weak or look disheveled in front of people? I don't want to be the first mom in my millennial circle to embrace a more traditional postpartum philosophy?

Well damn, now the Eight is really perking up. She might even be ready to take on the ENFJ.

I guess get ready for me to ask you for meals and help with chores cuz...we might be doing this.

~Stephanie

Marriage Miracles

~ drafted June 14, 2024 but never published ~

Last night at dinner, Gabe pulled out his phone and said, "Okay, I have a few things to talk to you about, if that's okay?"

I nodded. "Go for it."

Gabe proceeded to give a rundown of where he is in the process of all the house-buying minutiae: when our internet here will end and start at the new house, when our power will end here and start at the new house, when we can turn on water at the new house, which security systems he's looked into and what their costs and processes are, how the pest control works, the fact that he's confirmed the date and time of the movers, the fact that he's on top of getting our trashcans.

"You don't need to do anything about this," he said, peering at me over his glasses. "I'm just keeping you in the loop. What?" He smiled hesitantly at whatever look was on my face.

"I'm just...kind of in awe," I said. I grinned. "Can you imagine twenty-two-year-old you doing this? He would've probably looked at the note in your phone and cried."

Gabe laughed, "Yeah, that's true." He glanced back at his phone to continue.

"No, seriously," I said. "This is WILD."

When we first got married, Gabe couldn't even remember to pay the power bill. He couldn't do homework and go to church and hang out with me in the same day. Now he takes ALL of the initiative, does ALL the research, handles ALL of the scary administrative stuff, and all he asks of me is to pay attention when he updates me over some dinners. And even that is for my benefit: he just doesn't want there to be any unpleasant surprises for me or for me to worry about anything.

I have a lot of life goals, but if my number one accomplishment in the end is being a good wife to Gabe, I will be honored. I will feel like my life was well-spent. He's obviously not perfect and there are days when Cassidy gets an earful, but I see God working through Gabe every day. Gabe leads from a place of love. He empowers me and I am comfortable submitting to him.

I don't think this post has a point except to brag on my husband and maybe to encourage people who are worried that they or their partner can't make it XD It can get better—not magically and not overnight, but it can get better.

As I type this, Gabe is in the kitchen making dinner after spending an hour and a half making cupcakes from scratch for a birthday party tomorrow.

If you'd had a backstage pass to the early days of our marriage, you'd believe in miracles right along with me.

~Stephanie

Third Trimester Blog: Part 1

photo credits: Haleigh Nicole Photography

We are in the home stretch. Do I feel ready? No. Do I have lots of thoughts that need to be processed via blog? Yes. Will I make time to do that? We shall see. But for now...

Week 29





- Not gonna lie, I hate having to take iron three times a day. It's annoying and it tastes gross.

Week 30








Haleigh Nicole Photography took the most beautiful maternity photos ever. The entire experience was absolute DREAM, and her work is stunning!! I will be recommending her to everyone forever.

- Felt dismayed at my weight at the doctor for the first time. It's just weird to see a number I've never approached before.
- Almost could not put on my socks.
- Eyesight is getting worse?
- Woke up and the bump was noticeably much smaller, and I didn't feel her all up in my right ribs. Turning/head down?
- First bump size comment: cashier lady at Food Lion asked my due date and said I don't look very big for that. I did not mind this comment 😂
- Back to being cripplingly sleepy, especially in the afternoons.
- Hold the roof handle in the car when I'm a passenger in the Civic so I can lift my ribs out of my uterus.

Week 31



- Lots of heartburn this week!

Week 32






I was craving a GIANT salad (that is a casserole dish), but I didn't want to make it in any part. So Gabe graciously made the entire thing while I sat at the bar and gave extremely specific instructions. I am the luckiest girl in the world.



- The only time my right ribs stop hurting is when I'm lying down or doing my stretch routine. I do not like this.
- Yep, in pain 24/7.

Week 33



- Belly skin tans weirdly? Or could be the sunscreen?
- Ribs hurt much less this week.

Week 34




Assembling Tot's dresser!



- I have to pee every time I stand up.
- My bellybutton finally popped.
- I feel noticeably "big." Riding in the backseat of the Civic on Easter was kinda tough.
- Craving: miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilk so much milk

Week 35





- Okay yes, I am finally uncomfortable on the whole XD
- Bro...I feel so pregnant. Moving is slow and difficult, I get full instantly but I'm supposed to be upping my protein.
- Although at least some of the slowness is from the first legit leg day back at the gym in a while.

I hope this won't be the last blog I post until Tot arrives, but it MIGHT be the last "trimester" blog, which is wild enough!

~ Stephanie

Pregnancy Surprises

It probably isn't surprising that I've thought about pregnancy a lot.

I've always used Instagram 98% for fitness and educational content, and in the last five years, many of the "influencers" I've followed have gotten pregnant or begun their fertility journeys. Because of that, I've been swimming in an ocean of pregnancy-related posts for years, and had heard about everything from hemorrhoids to perineal massages to salmon roe, and had expectations about how all of those things were going to relate to me if the time ever came.

Well, a lot of reality hasn't been what I expected, and there have been some total surprises that NEVER crossed my mind. I've divided my "pregnancy surprises" into those two categories :)

Things That I Thought About, but Have Gone Differently Than I Expected
Nutrition
I thought it was going to be easy for me to eat clean and healthy for the baby. It has not been. Honestly, that about sums up this category XD I haven't been on top of my fruits and veggies, I hate the taste of my high quality prenatal gummy and sometimes resort to the next-to-nutritionally-bankrupt-but-tasty ones, and have neglected my iron supplement to the point that my bloodwork came back "anemic" a couple of weeks ago. (Don't worry, I'm on it now.) I have at least one dessert a day, and ate an entire bag of Ritz Chips in 2.5 sittings last week.

Body Image
On a more positive note, I thought I was going to struggle to accept my changing body, but I'm actually obsessed with it. It's always been important to me to stay fit, but too often that's translated to "maintain a certain size." When you're pregnant, you're SUPPOSED to get bigger. I don't worry about being bloated after a meal. My growing belly is a reminder that God is a promise keeper and Gabe and I are going to get to meet a little hybrid in a couple of months. I want all the bump-forward clothes. I want all the pictures.

(Now, how this will translate to my postpartum body is BIG question. I expect to struggle a lot with that, but pregnancy has shown me that I can't always accurately predict how I'll react to things, so maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised.)

Reaction to Baby Kicks
Seeing videos of babies kicking in a mom's stomach has always kind of freaked me out. It looks like you swallowed an alien? Do you not feel creepy having a PERSON INSIDE OF YOUR PERSON? There's a THING in there? Someone's actual little foot is trying to tear through the wall of your stomach and touch air?!

Now that I'm the mom, my feelings have surprised me. I think the kicks are SUPER fun and I love to try to get Gabe to feel them and they definitely don't freak me out, but the dominant feeling is...almost neutrality? Acceptance? Rightness? The thing inside me doesn't feel foreign at all, but it also doesn't feel like something sappy or magical. I don't know how to explain how something can feel so fun and cool, yet so...normal at the same time.

Now I will say, the Metertot's foot or knee or something was all up in my right ribs the other day and I gently pushed on it, and guys it  M O V E D. I felt the actual shape of the thing inside me and that DID freak me out a little bit XD

Libido
I always assumed I would be a super horny pregnant person. I have not been XD Partly I think it's because for the last four and a half years, sex has absolutely been fun, but it's also been mission-focused. We can both take a break from the math and the intentionality/borderline obsession. Sex is good, but my heart and mind have fully embraced the lull in intensity.

Total Surprises
Parenting Books Being Triggering
It never occurred to me that parenting philosophy books might trigger resentment, and I'd have to work through that before I could even get to the parenting parts.

Every parent does their best. Gabe and I are going to do our best, and we're still going to produce kids who need therapy and have tons of things to critique about their childhoods. It's unavoidable, and I've always known that, so it took me by surprise when parenting books made me think more about MY childhood than the childhood we'd create for the Metertot. Gabe and I read passages that we firmly aspire to and realize how differently our minds might have formed if we'd been treated differently in certain moments. Were so many of the things I struggled/struggle with actually avoidable? Was there another way to understand me? Does Gabe struggle with X because he was never given Y?

But the thing is, if we want to be cycle-breakers, we can't just simply switch paradigms like putting on new shoes; we have to re-parent ourselves and break own our cycles/habits first. We can't teach the Metertot to do things we don't know how to do. If my "frustration intolerance" is dysfunctionally low, I cannot model for her how to stay in an annoying situation calmly and work through a problem.

Girlier Personal Style
This one I NEVER saw coming. My clothing style has changed a lot over the years, from borderline goth/emo as a teenager to more mainstream with small pops of edgy, but I've never been anything approaching "girly."

UNTIL NOW, BABY.

I think it's a combination of knowing that we're having a girl, and just being pregnant in general. I feel like a fertility goddess and it's bringing out all the latent Aphrodite-Venus-fairy princess vibes. Every time I get dressed, I get to celebrate having a baby, and our baby is a girl, so obviously I want to celebrate that. The number of things I've bought lately that are pink, floral, or ruffly has skyrocketed.

Fortunately, I still like my mainstream-with-a-pop-of-edgy style, I just also like girly things now. The range of things that bring me joy is expanding, and I love that.

Liking Floral Smells
I've always hated the smell of flowers, but lately... Now, it's not a total shift into LOVING floral smells, especially strong ones, but it's gone from "I do not want to be in the same room as that; get it away from me or I'm leaving" to "Oh, wait, is that kind of nice?" I bought deodorant in the scent "Lilac and White Tea" and kind of can't get enough of it.

Maybe the Metertot is going to lean more traditionally girly that I do?

I'm very interested to see what other pregnancy, birth, and parenting surprises are coming next. I'm more certain than ever that there will be a LOT of them.

~ Stephanie

Second Trimester Blog: Part 2

I can't believe we're here already. I wouldn't necessarily say that the second trimester flew by; it's more like I just really settled into it. First trimester I was tired and ravenous and constantly afraid of losing the baby. Second trimester became an easy "new normal."

The Metertot kicks a LOT, especially in the morning before I get up and at night before I fall asleep. She hasn't woken me up yet though, so she's either extremely considerate or we're on the exact same schedule.

Week 21



I needed a fellow Enneagram Eights to truly get this with me:



Symptoms
- Realized I'm only constipated because I wasn't getting my usual exercise because of having house guests.
- It's getting harder to put on my shoes.
- 21w 2d my belly felt "heavy."
- Trouble sleeping has returned.

Week 22



Symptoms
- Sleep is tough. I cannot wake up in the morning, but no matter how early I go to bed I can't fall asleep before midnight.

Week 23



Symptoms
- Leaking...? Pee? Discharge?
- 23w 5d: First stretch marks...but then they went away...? Definitely continuing to accrue skin tags.

Week 24



Symptoms
- Pregnancy rage?
- Vaginal heaviness/slight achiness.

Week 25



Symptoms
- Vaginal achiness and heaviness continuing.
- She kicks a lot :)

Week 26



The pregnancy dreams continue to be next level:





Worried myself for a few days:

Symptoms
- Vaginal heaviness is gone.
- 26w 1d, evening: Very uncomfortable in an undefined way.
- Blue vein running down my chin on the right side, like a marionette.
- Gag reflex is bad...? Jk I just took prenatal vitamins on too empty a stomach.
- 26w 3d, evening: I'm uncomfortable, like I don't know where to put my right ribs.
- Vaginal heaviness is back.
- Getting a downy white peach fuzz beard on my jaw near my earlobes XD

Week 27

The crib came! So grateful to Mom and Daddy for blessing us with this! (The diploma and award will be moved soon; the nursery just used to be my office 🤣)



Symptoms
- Officially retiring my favorite set of sports bras for now.
- Right ribs continuing to feel displaced.
- We've got stretch marks! Left boob is wearing 'em like the badge they are.
- We're pretty sure we have her first name picked out. Still kicking around a small handful of middle names.
 
Week 28



Did the gestational diabetes test this morning. Fingers crossed that I passed.



The doctor also said my belly is measuring appropriately and that Metertot seems to be head down.

Symptoms
- Broke down and used a panty liner this morning 🤣 I only leak first thing in the morning, but it was nice to bend down with abandon as I unloaded the dishwasher.
- Right ribs are sore and feel like they don't have room. The left side feels normal.

~Stephanie