This weekend, I took Hannah to the zoo with a friend & her kiddos. While hanging out and letting the kiddos run around (or in Hannah’s case, practice standing) in the air conditioned and therefore best exhibit in the zoo, the Orangutans, we ran into a couple who was there with their tiny one month old baby. As we chatted and they expressed how they just needed to get out of the house and walk around, I was immediately taken back to when PJ & I were in the exact same situation with our 3 week old Hannah.
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​We chatted about breastfeeding struggles, lack of sleep, and all the crazy aspects of what I fondly look back on as the newborn fog. We talked about how insanely difficult it is to latch a newborn to your boob in public when you can't even see them because you're trying to stay modest under a nursing cover. I remember those early days so clearly and so distantly at the same time, because it really was a fog. There were so many high highs, and so many intensely overwhelming and anxiety filled moments as well. 

Since I have already documented my birth story, I wanted to take some time to document my postpartum experience as well. Everyone has different experiences, but for me, postpartum was by far the most difficult part of my pregnancy / birth / becoming a parent experience. It was also the part I had given the least thought to, since prior to having a child, it's very hard to imagine and prepare for what things will be like post-birth.
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​Immediately after giving birth, I felt like a rockstar. That epidural was clearly still working well because I was on a high, and didn't feel anything but pure joy and excitement over what had just happened. I was able to walk to our postpartum room unassisted, and was genuinely feeling like the hardest part was behind me. Little did I know that a few days later, I'd be saying I would give birth all over again in comparison to how I was struggling through postpartum.

I don't want to paint a miserable picture, because honestly, for every difficult moment there were far more beautiful moments of just marveling at the new little being in front of me. That's what was magical about my newborn fog experience, the joy was still so tangible even amidst the difficulty of it all. After a hard day, I would always look back in my camera roll (because you bet I was taking hundreds of pictures a day) and remember that the day wasn't all bad, there were always sweet moments captured to remind me of that.

48 hours after giving birth, I was sore all over my body. My legs were sore, my stomach muscles were sore, my back was sore, my arms were sore and my boobs were sore. Everything hurt! My body was recovering from just giving birth, my boobs were quite literally torn up from breastfeeding, and my arms were adjusting to carrying a newborn around all day. I remember wondering if I would ever feel normal again, which sounds a little dramatic but at this point, everything felt unknown. 

When you're pregnant, you know the end result is a baby. You don't know exactly how that baby will arrive, whether by vaginal birth or C-section, whether early, on time, or late, or whether naturally or induced. But you know that baby's coming out one way or another! What I didn't realize was how much unknown would be involved in my first postpartum experience. 
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Would it always hurt to pee? Would my boobs always be uncomfortable from now on? Would the damage from my daughter's tongue tie ever fully heal? How long until I can comfortably walk longer distances? What's the difference between postpartum depression & baby blues? I had been put on blood pressure medication after needing to be induced for high blood pressure, and when my levels didn't go down after those first few weeks, I wondered if I'd always need to be on medication. There was so much unknown, and even though countless people reassured me that yes I would heal, and yes my boobs would feel normal one day, and yes my blood pressure would go down, it's one of those things where unless you've experienced it, it's hard to know for sure. And I'm sure the hormones didn't help with my naturally worst case scenario thinking.

I remember feeling much more comfortable and "myself" when I was around other people. Some people prefer to cocoon and stay isolated for a bit after having a baby, but for me I craved company and visitors. I loved having people over, and I really loved having my mom stay with us for a bit. It helped break up the routine, and socializing helped me focus on all the exciting and positive thoughts in my head. It was when the night hit when isolation and baby blues would surface, which I now know is extremely common & normal. I remember feeling a general sense of heaviness as the sun would set, like night time meant being alone with my feelings. Every night I would countdown the hours / feedings until 5AM passed, then I'd feel a rush of energy and excitement that came with a new day. Daylight would bring with it a flood of all the positive emotions, and nighttime seemed to do the opposite. 
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In those early weeks, I switched off between our rocker, couch and bed. I would have one breastfeeding position that felt semi-natural, and I'd stick with it for a few weeks until a new one would feel a little more natural. At some point, I stopped needing to use the hospital grade underwear and ginormous pads. Eventually, it stopped hurting to pee. My boobs no longer felt crazy uncomfortable from engorgement. I could actually enjoy a hot shower. After a few weeks, my blood pressure went back into normal range and I was able to stop taking the medication. We got Hannah's tongue tie revised, and the damage to my boobs finally healed (after 10 looong weeks). The nights gradually stopped feeling as intense.

At some point, I started feeling like myself again. And not just myself emotionally, but physically too. Both of those things took time.

When I saw that couple at the zoo, I felt so much compassion for them. I may not know exactly what they're going through because we all experience becoming parents differently, but I can empathize with the intensity of it all.

I could have sat with them and talked to them for hours, but I recognized that not everyone wants to sit and have a deep heart to heart with a stranger (shocking, I know). Instead, I looked at my big beautiful 10 month old girl, and looked back at them. "It gets better," I said.

And it does. Whatever struggle you face in the postpartum period, it gets better. Breastfeeding gets easier. Your body heals. You eventually will get more sleep. The hormones feel less crazy. And as all of those things settle down, one thing amplifies: your love for your child.

If we're connected on social media, you probably saw that our little family just got back from a vacation all the way across the country in Massachusetts. While we've flown with Hannah before, this felt like a whole new ballgame going from a 1 hour flight to CA to a 5 hour flight across the country. To say we were nervous for that first flight would be an understatement. Just ask my mom, who I called minutes before boarding saying I wanted to cancel the whole thing and go home (ha!). 

The beginning of our trip proved to be the most challenging, and it ended up being smooth sailing from there. We made so many memories in the last week; as we were recapping them this evening over a takeout dinner back home, it was hard to pick our favorites. This vacation taught me a thing or two about traveling with a baby, and I thought I'd take the time to document and share them. If for no other reason, so I can look back on this post the next time I'm tempted to cancel a trip due to traveling anxiety, ha!

One: Traveling can be stressful for everyone; don't forget that applies to your baby, too. 

Our flight back to Arizona was drastically different than our flight to Massachusetts. There were likely multiple factors that affected this, but I think one of them came down to being in tune with my baby's stress level, not just my own. Hannah is an incredibly happy baby. She was in a great mood when we first arrived at the airport for our flight to MA, so I didn't really think to pay attention to the fact that she may be anxious just like I was. After all, this was all new for her too, right? Even though she had been on a flight before, that doesn't make it any less overwhelming on her tiny mind and body. And it's true what they say that babies pick up on your stress, which we most definitely were feeling.

In hindsight, I can see that there were a few things I did that contributed to Hannah's pre-flight meltdown. I'm not saying it was my fault, there are lots of factors that lead to a baby melting down (like being overtired and hungry, that's enough to make anyone melt down!). But I am saying that I know my baby, and I know there are a few things she does not like. She doesn't like seeing me walk away, and she doesn't like being passed off to strangers. I walked away to go get food, and as we were boarding the plane, I accepted help from a totally well-intentioned flight attendant who offered to carry Hannah on the plane for us. In the midst of an already overwhelming situation, these were not what Hannah wanted to happen. I learned from our first flight that while I can't prevent all meltdowns, I can be in tune with my baby and try to avoid adding stress to a situation that is likely already stressing her out. 

Two: If possible, keep to your regular schedule even with a time difference.

Now before I even dive into this one, I'll admit that this isn't always possible. But if it is, I 100% think it's worth paying attention to. I say this because with a 3 hour time difference, we were able to make it so our first night at home our daughter is asleep in her crib at the same time as usual, and therefore shouldn't be waking up at 3AM instead of 6AM. Win!

We kept Hannah on her same sleep schedule, just 3 hours ahead. She normally sleeps from 7PM - 6AM every night, so in Massachusetts we had her sleeping from 10PM - 9AM. This worked out great because we didn't go to bed much after her, so that means we got an extra 3 hours of sleep each night. (And all the new parents are raising praise hands alongside me because that's a BIG deal!) She normally naps at 9AM and 1:30PM each day, so we aimed to have her nap at 12PM and 4:30PM to keep everything as normal as possible. Some days, that just didn't work out because we were on the go, but on those days we kept her nighttime sleep schedule the same and called it a win. Overall, her sleep was just as consistent and predictable as it is at home, and that made traveling way more enjoyable for all of us and our transition back to our regular time zone a whole lot smoother!
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Three: People are kind. And if some people aren't, focus on those who are.

I don't think I can count the moments on this trip that people were exceptionally kind to us. I know there's something about a baby that softens people, so I won't expect this treatment all the time, but still! I was blown away by how kind and helpful people can be. People carried luggage for us, gave up seats for us, held elevators or doors for us, allowed us to go before them in line, complimented our baby, just to name some examples! It's easy to worry about inconveniencing or annoying others when traveling with a baby, but this trip showed me that doing that can just stress you out. Especially when you're mid meltdown with easily a hundred strangers surrounding you. In those moments, focus on your baby. The people around you are likely a whole lot kinder and more compassionate than you'd expect, and if they're not, well chances are you'll never see them again.
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​Four: Don't work yourself up about something that hasn't happened yet.

Ya'll, even though my baby did amazingly well on our flight home, there's still something about being stuck in a really small space surrounded by a bunch of strangers in very close proximity with a very active baby on my lap for 5 hours that sounds, well, not appealing? Ha! Just being honest here. It's not exactly on the top of my list of ways I'd choose to spend my day. 

But here's the thing, the way I imagine it when I'm stressing out is almost always worse than it really plays out to be. Even when Hannah did bring to fruition some of my worst fears by completely screaming in the airport terminal and during takeoff, it still was short lived. She did not cry the whole flight, and as a matter of fact, she was quite pleasant! She happily gave the biggest grins to anyone who made eye contact, and made me so proud at how she woke up during our descend, saw I was still right beside her, and then went back to sleep through the rest of landing. She did great!

When I'm stressing out, it's usually over an imagined worst case scenario. For our flight home, I tried really hard to consciously not worry about the unknown that lay ahead of me for the next 5 hours. And you know what, I'm glad I didn't worry because our flight ended up being enjoyable! Hannah didn't cry at all, and I even was able to pass her off to PJ a few times to get some moments to myself. (Moments to yourself are few and far between as a parent, am I right?) We tag-teamed, and it went great! So my lesson learned? Don't let something stress you out until it's actually happening. 
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Five: It's worth it. So, so worth it.

We definitely had a stressful traveling experience on the way to our vacation, and there was a point along the way that I legitimately wondered to myself "why do people travel with kids?" But it didn't take long for me to change my tune and see that no matter how much stress the traveling aspect brings, it's so, so worth it. Getting time away from work to just make memories with my little family? Priceless. Getting to spend time with family who I hadn't seen in 14 years? Priceless. Getting to experience things I remember as a kid with my baby? Priceless. No matter how expensive or stressful traveling can be, especially when you add the element of bringing a baby and a zillion baby related items along, it is so worth it.

We brought Hannah on her first roadtrip when she was just 8 weeks old, and we almost didn't go because of all the unknown that came with traveling with a baby. As I was debating back and forth, my mom advised me with just two simple words: "Be adventurous." She always reminds me, you can't stop living your life just because you had a baby. And it's true! The adventure is always worth any stress it brings, because the adventure is so much more rich and full now that we get to experience things through the eyes of our baby girl, too. 
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Today, I want to talk about marriage. And before I even get started, I want to issue the disclaimer that this is not coming from a place of feeling like we have this marriage thing all figured out. As a matter of fact, I have reached out to multiple friends over the course of the last few weeks asking for prayer and wisdom regarding specific things we're walking through in our marriage. But more on that later.

We've been married for just over 3 years & we have about 5.5 months of parenting experience under our belt so far. We are by no means marriage experts, but I am a big advocate of healthy and loving communication within marriage. If sharing some things I've learned so far will help someone else strengthen their marriage, even just one person, then I'm gonna do it.

So with that disclaimer out of the way, here are 5 things you can say to strengthen your marriage. Along with some pictures of PJ & I at various points in our engagement / marriage, because who doesn't like a walk down memory lane. :)
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​It seems like a no brainer, right? (Spoiler alert: a lot of these will.) Tell your spouse you love them. And not just the quick "I love you" as you walk out the door, or hang up the phone, or after an argument. Although all of those occasions are important because simply saying those 3 words on a regular basis will keep that posture of love in your heart. But to make it even more meaningful, both to your spouse and to you, tell them why you love them. Tell them what you love about them. And if you're in the middle of an argument, remind yourself what you loved about them to make you want to marry them in the first place. 

Some of you may read that and think it would be incredibly awkward for you & your spouse because maybe you don't get all lovey dovey very often. If that's something you wish you had more of in your relationship, then I encourage you to start it. Maybe it will feel awkward at first, and if it does, that's okay! I'm pretty sure everyone appreciates hearing that and why they are loved, so give it a go and see how it affects your marriage.
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Am I the only one who feels like it's a lot easier to notice the things your spouse does not do versus the things they do? We all have our pet peeves, maybe it's when the diaper pail is overflowing with dirty diapers and should have been refreshed two days ago. Maybe it's when you're up feeding the baby at 6AM and thinking of all the things your spouse could be doing rather than sleeping in. Or maybe it's the overflowing dishes in the sink or piles of laundry that need to be done.

I'm learning that there's always going to be a list of things that could annoy me because they aren't done. But there's also always going to be a (usually longer) list of things that my spouse does every single day. Sometimes it's without me asking, and sometimes it requires some prompting or reminding. But does it really matter how it gets done? He still deserves a "thank you" for doing it.  

Saying thank you not only shows appreciation, but it serves as a reminder to me of all the ways my husband serves me and our family throughout the day. So when the inevitable thing pops in my head that he could be doing, should be doing, or forgot to do, instead of letting it lead me to a place of nagging and frustration (which lets be real, sometimes happens), I instead remind myself that a) my husband does a heck of a lot for me already, and b) how would I feel if he lorded over me all the things I set out to do in a day and then don't? Saying a simple thank you on a regular basis will help you have a spirit of appreciation towards your spouse.
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This is a big one in our household. After an argument or moment of tension, we always apologize. And something we've made a habit of is not just apologizing, but explaining what it is you're apologizing for. As hard as it can be to humble yourself and apologize in the first place, it's a whole lot more impactful long term when you take it a step further & do the digging to acknowledge what you're sorry for.

Are you sorry for yelling? Are you sorry for allowing your anxiety to get the best of you? Are you sorry for blaming your spouse for something that you are equally at fault for? I've had to apologize a lot in our marriage, so I could go on & on with this list, ha. The point is, do some thinking and explain to your spouse what it is you feel you did wrong, and what you'd like to do differently in the future. It can make the difference between a moment of tension creating a wedge between you & your spouse, and actually strengthening your marriage because you genuinely learned from it.
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This one goes hand in hand with the last. Early on in our marriage, whenever I would apologize to PJ, he would say "it's okay!"

That may seem like a perfectly reasonable response to some people, but to me, I would always respond with "no, it's not okay!" Responding to an apology with "it's okay" sends the message that the behavior that was done is acceptable. When I raise my voice or disrespect my husband, I genuinely don't want to be told that that behavior is okay. Because I know it's not.

Now, when one of us apologizes, we respond by saying "I forgive you." It's a tangible way to extend grace for the other’s wrongdoing. It acknowledges that whatever was done to warrant an apology is not how we want to be treating one another, but is forgiven. And when we forgive one another, we let it go. We move on, come together as a couple, and choose connection rather than disconnection. We've had our fair share of tense moments in the past 5 months as we've had a lot of life transitions, but saying apologies and extending forgiveness is how we come back together and don't let things fester and grow.
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This one is applicable in more than one way. When Hannah first came home and we were thick in the newborn fog / survival mode, I'll never forget one morning when PJ said "I'm getting used to running on less sleep." I immediately laughed & passive aggressively replied, "you're getting used to less sleep?"

What I had to re-learn in that season was that PJ is not a mind reader. He cannot jump into my mind and anticipate when I need help & when I've got it under control. Asking for help can be a humbling thing, so sometimes we just don't do it and then get frustrated that we're not receiving the help we're not asking for. I had to learn that I can't get upset for not getting help if I'm not asking for it.

So now, I do ask for help. If I could really use some extra sleep in the morning, I ask PJ to take Hannah after I have fed her. If I know I'm going to have a crazy busy work day, I'll ask PJ to wash the pump parts for me. I ask for help even when it feels humbling, and you know what? It's made me realize and appreciate the fact that my husband really listens.

The other aspect of this is not just asking your spouse for help, but asking other trusted people for help, too. No marriage is easy all the time, we all go through tougher seasons. So reach out to people, and be transparent when you're struggling. Ask for prayer. Ask for wisdom and invite people to speak into your life and help you see your blind spots. Don't keep things hidden, be honest and real because you never know who is also struggling. And might I throw this in there: there's a difference between confiding and venting. Confiding is being real and inviting someone to speak into your marriage. Venting is complaining and not wanting to be told anything other than "you're right, your husband sucks." Keep that in mind when asking friends for support.

Think about marriage like working a job, getting a paycheck requires showing up and doing work. If you don't show up or if you don't do your work, are you going to get paid? Nope.

Marriage requires work and intention, too. A healthy, loving marriage is priceless. Getting to do life with your best friend and feel like someone knows you better than anyone else in the world & always has your back is a true blessing. But it's a blessing that we work to maintain, it's not a free paycheck given to us without any effort. If you look at the Biblical commands given to husbands & wives, I wouldn't exactly call them easy. But a healthy marriage mirrors the way Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her, and there's no more powerful love than that. So here's to being intentional in our marriages, and hoping that they can point back to the ultimate love story.

Hey, friends! Happy Mother's Day to all the mamas out there.

Today, I want to talk a little expectation vs. reality. This day can carry quite a bit of expectation for us mamas, and sometimes you don't even realize the expectations you have until you find yourself disappointed that they weren't met. And then, you're already in a tizzy over that when you scroll through social media and see dozens of pictures of everyone else's Mother's Day festivities. It's easy to fall into the comparison game and suddenly you find yourself in a really crappy mood on a day that was supposed to be all about celebrating all you do as a mom. 

Expectations are weird. They can be so subliminal and sneak up on you, can't they? I had this happen to me on this Mother's Day, and it wasn't in the way you'd probably expect. It had nothing to do with the festivities or celebrations. I really didn't need much there; I love every day with my little family (especially Sundays) and I truly mean it when I say my sweet Hannah is already the best gift I could have gotten. Although PJ did get me the most meaningful card and a thoughtful gift, so props to you there babe.

When PJ asked me what I wanted on this day, I said "a little extra time to get ready in the morning before church." I had a grand vision of getting all cute by picking out an outfit I'd feel confident in and taking time to do my hair & makeup, two things I hardly do these days. All I really wanted on this first Mother's Day, besides time with my little family, was a cute picture of me & my girl. Minimal expectations, right?

Wrong.
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​If you saw this post on social media yesterday, you'd probably think I got my picture. But what you can't see from a picture is the insecurity that reared its ugly head as I got ready. You can't see that I heavily debated this outfit, and felt like there wasn't a single thing in my closet I felt confident in. You can't see that as I did my makeup, I felt like a young girl playing with her mom's makeup because I have no idea what I'm doing anymore. You can't see that I tried really hard to do a braid in my hair to feel a little more put together, but it looked like this:
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​You can't see that I'm kicking myself for not incorporating working out into my routine, even though I have no idea how to do that right now with working and pumping / breastfeeding and mom'ing every day. You can't see that I'm thinking "maybe next Mother's Day I'll have my confidence back." You can't see that it's taking serious self-control not to speak negative words about my body, because I want to practice that now so that my daughter won't replicate that process for herself. You can't see that I'm fighting a mental battle trying to have love and acceptance for my body and appearance.

The reality is, out of all the pictures taken on this Mother's Day, my absolute favorite and the one I feel the most confident in is the one taken first thing in the morning. The one where I'm still in my glasses & nursing nightgown. The one where I don't have any makeup on, and my hair is getting pulled as my daughter's simultaneously drooling on my hand. The one that perfectly captures motherhood, and my sweet joyful girl in all her glory.
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There's something really great about not being able to see insecurity in a picture. Because one day, I'll look back at the pictures from my first Mother's Day Sunday and I won't see any of the mental yuck that was going on in my head. Instead, I'll see a new mom celebrating a special day with her beloved baby girl and wonderful husband. I'll see a tangible representation of all I have to be thankful for.

But just in case you're a new mom (or a not so new mom, or maybe not a mom at all) and struggling with feeling confident in your skin, I share this to say you're not alone. It's real easy to see smiling faces on social media and feel like no one goes through the same mental battles that we do. It's easy to compare your insecurities to what you perceive as someone else's strength.

So here's to fighting through the mental yuck to love ourselves exactly where we're at. Here's to acknowledging that we all have insecurities, but also pledging to do our best not to let those insecurities warp the lense through which we see ourselves. Here's to taking pictures even when we don't feel like it, because if we only take pictures when we feel "camera ready" then we might rarely have pictures with us in them. And sometimes, just like for me on this Mother's Day, the very best pictures end up being the ones where we're in our pajamas and not at all "put together." Maybe being perfectly put together is overrated, anyway.

At 3:16PM on Monday, December 3, 2018, Hannah Laine Cosentino made her grand entrance into the world. I have been wanting to document her birth story ever since, and I'm hoping given 5 months have passed, I can do it justice. Giving birth was the most incredible experience of my life, and I am so grateful for how every detail unfolded.

​It all started when I woke up on Sunday, 4 days past my due date and starting to *possibly* exhibit early labor symptoms. I say *possibly* because that was the big question of the day: was I in labor, or not? I never quite realized how much I prefer things black & white until I was in the grey area of early labor. Everything felt uncertain, and that drove. me. crazy.

Was I leaking amniotic fluid? Was that a contraction? If so, when did it start? Am I timing it correctly? They can't possibly be that close together already, can they?

But now I'm getting ahead of myself. I started the day on the phone with my doula talking about how it kind of felt like I was leaking amniotic fluid. (Side note: I was not. Feeling like you're leaking is just a thing when you're 40+ weeks pregnant, ha!) She encouraged me to keep going about my day, and call her if anything changed. So that's what we did, we ran errands and I can distinctly remember feeling my first maybe-contraction as we were walking around Target. We were driving home when I announced I was craving an iced chai latte, and not just any chai latte, but one from my favorite coffee shop that was a tad out of the way. PJ did what any husband would do for his very pregnant wife, and agreed to satisfy the craving. Between the coffee shop & the drive home, I felt multiple other maybe-contractions.

Towards the end of my pregnancy, everyone would ask me, "have you felt any Braxton Hicks?" "I don't think so?" I would reply. And I was always told the same thing: "You'll know when it's a contraction."

Well my friends, that exact saying is what drove this overdue pregnant lady bonkers the morning and early afternoon of December 2. My doula encouraged me to start timing these maybe-contractions, and it drove me crazy how uncertain I felt about everything. I would second guess if I started my timer at the right time, if I ended my timer at the right time, and if what I felt was even a contraction to begin with. My maybe-contractions were already only a few minutes apart, that couldn't be right, could it? They weren't that painful, so were these the real deal? Everything felt the opposite of black and white, and I was overwhelmed by it. My doula could sense the anxiousness in my voice, and encouraged me to go get checked at the hospital so I could get some clarity on what exactly was going on.

Because it was a Sunday, we didn't have the option of going to my doctor's office. So we nervously packed up our things and our dogs to drop off at a friend's house, and off to the hospital we went. I felt so silly the whole drive there. You see the movie clips of the woman screaming as they're driving to the hospital, and the husband speeding to make it in time. I wasn't even sure if I was feeling real contractions, so needless to say I felt pretty dumb going to the hospital.

We got set up in Triage and all the monitors were hooked up to me when I felt another maybe-contraction. The nurse pulled back the curtain and said "well, you just had a contraction!" Tears welled up in my eyes as relief came over me. I wasn't crazy, and I wasn't wrong. I wasn't sure like they all said I'd be, but I was feeling real contractions. And they really were coming just a few minutes apart.

​I was still only a centimeter dilated (like I had been for weeks), so I would have gotten to go labor at home if it wasn't for the beeping on the monitor that indicated high blood pressure. They monitored me in Triage for close to an hour, checking my blood pressure several times and taking a blood sample to test for preeclampsia (which was negative). My pressure didn't go down, so after about 45 minutes the nurse pulled the curtain back and said "Well, you're staying and having a baby!"

You would think for a 4 days past due pregnant lady, these would be the best words I could have heard. But as we walked from Triage to my hospital room, my face turned white and my eyes welled with tears. When we got to our room, PJ put his arms on my shoulders. I couldn't hold the tears back as I looked him in the eyes and expressed my fear; I had to give birth. It was time.

As encouraging as PJ was, I knew what would really calm my fear was talking to a friend who had already pushed a baby out and loved it so much she was going to do it again in a few months. I called Colleen, and she sweetly came to the hospital to bring PJ dinner and hang out with us for a bit to ease my nerves. My family was on their way from California, my doula was getting ready to head to the hospital, and my induction was getting started. Hannah was coming.

Colleen left just before my doula arrived around 9PM, and let me tell you, my doula was a Godsend. My induction was about 4 hours in at this point so my maybe-contractions were now definite-but-not-crazy-painful contractions. My doula brushed and braided my hair, massaged my temples to ease a headache, and helped me get onto a yoga ball now that I had permission to do so (high blood pressure meant many of the ways I envisioned laboring were not allowed). She entered my room, snapped into action, and brought with her a calming and empowering presence.

To any expecting mamas, I cannot emphasize how much I would recommend getting a doula. I wanted my labor to be as peaceful as possible, and I didn't want to solely rely on my husband who was as inexperienced as I was in this area. Kate (my doula) was especially helpful given that I labored over night. She encouraged PJ and I to sleep, and while PJ could, I couldn't. Kate kept me company all throughout the night, allowing PJ to be as well rested as he could be and ready to support me when the real action started.

​My contractions got really intense around 5AM. I wanted to be checked so I could gage whether it was time to get my epidural, or if I needed to prepare myself to labor intensely for another few hours. The doctor said the protocol for my particular induction method was to wait 12 hours before checking me, which would have meant waiting until 9:30AM. One of the ways Kate really assisted me was helping me utilize my voice, so I decided to ditch the protocol and get checked for my own sanity. I was at a whopping 3 centimeters.

The doctor offered me pain medication to allow me to sleep for a bit, and I graciously accepted. For all my mama friends who have given birth medication-free, you rock! For me, it was welcomed relief. PJ climbed into my hospital bed next to me and held me as I slept for a few hours. It was one of the sweeter memories I have from my labor experience.

2 hours passed, and I woke up at 7AM with the pain medication having worn off and INTENSE contractions replacing it. For 2 hours, my doula and PJ supported me and encouraged me as I allowed my body to do its thing and experienced labor in all its glory. It felt like an out of body blur as I felt each contraction come on and braced myself for it. Those 2 hours were the hardest part of my labor; I remember PJ & Kate rotating who held my hands and who used pressure points to provide as much comfort as possible. During one particularly painful contraction, Kate whispered a worship hymn in my ear. I'll say it again & again, she truly was an invaluable member of my labor team.

At 9AM, I again said screw protocol, I want to be checked NOW. I had progressed to 5 centimeters, and you better believe I was ready for that epidural. I was overjoyed to see the anesthesiologist walk in, who did a fabulous job and even managed to make us all laugh by cracking a joke about teaching PJ how to give me my epidural. At this point, it was time to relax & let my body dilate to a 10. My mom and brother had arrived from California late into the night, and came to visit us at the hospital. It was a pretty surreal feeling seeing them there, bringing back tons of memories of when my baby sister was born almost 14 years prior. Only this time, I was the one in the hospital bed!

​It was sometime in the early afternoon when my doctor came to check me & my mom and brother left. I was about 9 centimeters, almost time to push! Everything was so exciting and surreal at this point. For all the times in my life I wondered if I'd ever be able to give birth, I was about to prove to myself that I could.

At about 2:30PM, I started pushing. I had a nurse on one side of me, and Kate and PJ on the other. I felt incredible at this point, so grateful for and empowered by every push that got me closer to meeting my girl. My doctor came in, and encouraged me that one more strong round of pushes would bring Hannah into this world. That was all the motivation I needed to push with as much strength as I could, and at 3:16PM I got to meet my baby girl.

​She was 7lb 7oz, 20 inches long, and just absolutely perfect. Those first few moments of having her on my chest were surreal. There's really no words to describe the feeling of meeting your child.

I am so incredibly grateful for every member of my birth team: for every nurse that took such good care of us in labor & delivery and postpartum, for the wonderful Dr. Adams who delivered Hannah, for the friends who sent me encouraging messages and celebrated her arrival, for my family who traveled to support us and welcome our baby girl home, for Kate who was an incredible doula and truly made my labor experience everything I hoped it would be and more, and for my husband who was such a solid partner throughout Hannah's birth and continues to be as we learn how to be parents.

Hannah Laine, words can't describe how thankful we are to be your parents! We love you!

Aaaand, I'm back! I can't seem to stay away from the blogging world for too long. Probably because I'm too much of a verbal processor for just an Instagram post.

I had every intention of writing my birth story today, but there's not enough time for that so we'll save it for another day. Instead, I'll ramble for a bit and share the heart behind this blog.

To give you a glimpse behind the laptop, I'm currently sitting in my favorite coffee shop (conveniently named The Coffee Shop) with an empty drink that used to be an iced dirty Chai & an almost gone plate of Tofu Benedict. If you're not into the whole Tofu thing, trust me, it's a lot more delicious than it sounds.

I had a few hours of time for self-care on this Sunday, and I probably should have showered but you know what, this sounded better. For some, a shower is the most heavenly version of self-care. For me, the time in the shower with the warm water is great. The time after the shower where I don't have time to blow dry my freakishly thick hair or pick out a cute outfit, so I throw my hair into a messy bun and put on a robe and call it a day (until I have to leave the house), well, let's just say I don't always feel refreshed or put together. Clean? Sure. And I get it, that's important. But when you only have a few hours to yourself as a mama, sometimes you pick the thing that's gonna have you feel refreshed even if you don't feel clean. I'll shower tomorrow (probably).

I had a realization the other day. I don't know about you, but it's really easy for me to "rest" in ways that don't actually provide rest or refreshment. It's so easy to lay in my bed and scroll through social media in the name of "rest", but I don't actually feel any more refreshed or inspired afterwards. If anything, I usually feel that "bleh" feeling that comes from feeling like I've wasted time out of my day just watching other people live their lives. It's a strange social media world we live in, isn't it?

Now that time for myself is less frequent, it has me realizing that I want to spend that time intentionally. I want to spend it in ways that make me feel more inspired, more ready to take on the day, more grateful for the life I live, more present in my actual reality versus my online one, more connected to the people around me, and legitimately more rested & refreshed. Sometimes social media seems like it's doing those things, but in reality, it usually isn't.

So I thought about what really makes me feel refreshed, and it turned out my ideal self-care time included a visit to my favorite coffee shop, and a laptop where I can document my thoughts, lessons learned, and share some stories. Basically a coffee date with myself, ha!

Hence, this blog. If you're here, welcome! I hope your time here leaves you feeling refreshed, and maybe a little less alone. The heart behind this space and anything I ever share online is to share authentically & transparently with the hope of encouraging others. Because I think we all feel a lot of the same things, even if our feelings come out in different ways or look different because our lives look different.

Anywho, that's enough rambling for today. Thanks for being here! Coming soon will be my birth story, which I'm so excited to relive through the tapping on my keyboard. If you've got any questions or specific things you want to hear about, let me know! And if you feel like making this a two way conversation (which I'd love!), tell me what makes you feel refreshed. Like, really refreshed. 

XO,

​Amy