The turn around was going to need to be quick, but since I had spent a good amount of time working with this special couple on some designs for their farmhouse (a sunroom/ homeschooling space, den and living areas), I already had a lot of confidence knowing their story, values, style, and even the little things that would be meaningful to them. After sharing the basics of what they were hoping for in the camper, they really just let me run with it in making a design plan. Then we spent a few mad weeks of gathering supplies and tag-teaming trips to the hardware store until it was finally “go time!” to makeover everything.

After my friend and her husband thoroughly cleaned the camper from top to bottom, it was a team effort of steadily painting, Reno projects, problem solving and deciding on details. Some of their family and friends helped with various pieces and my own dad even helped. It was pretty great witnessing their community support not only their decision to do this, but to support them in the practicals. Now to see the transformation!

transformation pictures

All the “after” footage is actually when everything was about 90% done as the family was going to finish things like paint touch up and other projects on the road.

Resources

I “shopped” a lot of things from the family’s previously owned stuff that they had either planned to give away or put in storage. Things like pillows, cushions, duvets, throw blankets and kitchen items were sourced from Target, Walmart, discount stores like Ross, Home Goods and TJMaxx, as well as quite a bit from Amazon.

Here are some links for a few of the items and projects in case you’re interested:

• bamboo roman blinds (these are just so great)
• apricot grasscloth peel-and-stick wall paper
• kitchenette sunset gold peel-and-stick wallpaper
• bathroom folk tulip peel-and-stick wallpaper
• stainable pole wrap (treatment we used on the dinette benches, and cabinet sides)
• antique style USA map
• chore charts and planning boards
• National Park mini posters
• National Park Puzzle
• family conversation cards

Below are a few more of my favorite still shots and soon I’ll also include the YouTube video link for the full before and after videos.

I hope you enjoyed these transformations as much as I enjoyed this project. Please say a prayer for this incredible family on the road! I just received this picture below from my friend of them living it up on the West Coast.

What a privilege to be a part of their story of making their camper a home. Thanks for being here and reading! Love, Serra Ann

The post boho sunset camper makeover appeared first on the place she made.

Hello Dear Friend, 

Today was my final postpartum appointment for our sixth baby.  Kind of the final celebratory “just checking in to make sure everything is still good” with baby and momma, and closing out this pregnancy together.  Can I share some thoughts I jotted down on my phone “notes” app with you?

This occasion is definitely bittersweet. I remember the very first appointment welling up in hot tears seeing the midwife Doran’s sign “be still and know” in the appointment room.  This was the message given to me over and over when going through the all- encompassing grief of losing our son just months before.  My whole person was grappling with him missing and confused that there was a new baby now without him here.  

Those many first appointments I was pretty guarded, not the chipper ecstatic new momma I automatically felt was expected of me.  Or maybe what I expected of myself?  The midwives made space for me in all this, welcomed me and my baby right where we were at.  

Starting with the beauty of the birth cottage, filled with cozy textures, home-like rooms, feminine art and soft seasonal touches, a place was made for us to be and become. A stark stark difference from the sterile, fluorescent light-filled OB clinics I had spent plenty of time in. I am definitely not saying a more medical model of care is a bad choice, as it can be necessary for some, but I am just commenting on a real difference of attention to the human person that does matter. I’ve experienced this difference mattering in managing anxieties, creating safety and cultivating peace that is paramount for a healthy pregnancy and birth.  Crunchy paper exam tables, being rushed in and out, matter-of-fact conversations are different than a plush bed, generous hour-long appointment slots, and a culture of sensitive celebration.  I am profoundly grateful to have been given the gift of the latter.

Midwives make a place for the “how are you, in all the ways.”  In a profoundly personal process, the raw feelings can surface.  I can relax more, look deeper within, know there won’t just be a focus on whether my urine has protein in it or how many pounds I have gained.  These midwifery prenatal appointments aren’t a replacement for therapy, of course, but a caring sister or mother quietly nodding and listening is absolutely a balm for the often-weary soul of a pregnant mother.  

Although this sixth one seemed like a very long pregnancy, the time also flew by, so funny how that is.  Mirroring the serene country drives to the midwifery cottage that took me through all the seasons, it was a winding journey of sorrow and relearning trust. Watching summer turn to autumn and settle into winter toward spring, He gave me renewed hope.  It took me months to integrate the reality of new life inside me. I see now I needed these drives, the regular (mandatory) appointment on the calendar, to have the space to hear some simple yet big truths:  “Hey dear self, you’re pregnant!”  “Hello! This ride is a reminder you’re growing a baby! You really are!”  “Hi, sweet soul, I know you’re in so much pain, but we can receive joy too, sorrow and gladness can hold hands.”  I needed the empty van, the time for worship songs played loud and in solitude. My heart steadily healed and my soul was strengthened over the months, through those tears of grief and cries of surrender.

Besides the solo drives, I’m also aware of how much I needed those midwives, their persons, to receive me, and to offer the accompaniment that midwifery care is designed to give.   

Midwives in my experience are much more than medical personnel who pop on gloves and catch your baby.   The main midwife this time was there for this baby as well as our fourth.  A wonderful midwife in Minnesota walked with me through my tumultuous second and third pregnancies.  The midwife for my first essentially jumped in last second but took charge like a confident mother hen.  Relationship matters, and they are truly sisters and mothers, holding your hand and heart through it all.   Affirming your personhood, communicating you are capable.  I’ll never forget at the end of one of my births, in a moment of panic asking, “get her out!!!” My midwife looked me gently in the eye and said with a calm strength, “I don’t get out babies, you birth your baby.”  What a message for a vulnerable mother, to be told with loving confidence, “you can do this.” 

A side thought– I love that though I’m not coddled at this point as a rookie, I’m also not dismissed as a know-it-all.  Midwives provide reminders that two years of time since the last pregnancy can erase from your conscious thought.  The simple, “hey, remember you need enough protein… and are you staying hydrated?”  and “remember last time how bad the after pains were? Let’s make a plan for this time around.”

After this final appointment, I feel so grateful for the care and am noticing I’m somewhat sad that my monthly “retreat” out alone, bonding time with baby, “just me” care time built in, in a space curated so lovingly for a woman’s heart… is coming to another end.  It’s almost as if we pregnant mothers are in the womb of midwifery for our own gestation.  But alas, birth always always comes!

I’m asking aloud how this kind of womanly support can be continued after life takes off full speed again?  For the technical postpartum period, yes, but also as the months and years continue in motherhood?  I’m convinced now that this ongoing check in, the reminders that I’m a person with my own needs, the recognition that I’m doing hard hard hard work as a wife and mother, affirmation that it’s normal to always have big things to process…it’s all crucial to my wellbeing.  It’s so very good that my family looks to me for nurturing, but how can I be nurtured in an ongoing way?. How can I keep up this important practice?  How can I offer it to other mothers?

More musings on the “how”… every so many weeks postpartum? A ritual? An intentional sharing? A special drink and a snack to celebrate random milestones? A morning just reserved for self care and checking in and processing and girly beauty? How can we seek to continue uplifting and supporting the mother with little meaningful cares like “Do you need a tissue? A protein snack? A bottle of water? A soft, lovely smelling place to sink into and nurse your baby?” A periodic “you are seen – you look great! You are beautiful! Nice color on you! Love that lip color!” “How are things– the good and the hard?”  The “well you’re not alone and there are women who care and are here for you.” And the ever winner, “what do you need now?”

This is the sort of thing my heart wants to provide through the place she made.  Learning together how to create space for the other, and to welcome them in with warmth and love.  

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for being here as always.

Love,

Serra Ann

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“This is amazing.”

“I love it here so much.”

“Can you believe this is our yard? These are our children?”

“Welcome home, babe.”

“Thank you, God.”

There is something about a slow day that makes the space to reflect.

A year ago everything was uncertain.  Like so many, we were facing unemployment.  We also knew it was time to move on from living near the Twin Cities, the cold North.  We didn’t know quite where to turn, where our home would be.  And home means so much to us.

Two girlie girls and a five month-old little guy in our care, the readiness was just as thick as the iced-over lakes to make this next move the one where we could finally plant roots.  We were weary.

Yet nothing was in our control.  Okay, we were in control of our dreaming, of our praying, of our discerning.  We did possess our firm resolve for change.  We could control how we would choose to trust.  The Surrender Prayer was big: “Oh Jesus, I surrender myself to you, take care of everything.”

A string of events later, I’m watching two wooden swings swaying underneath a mature maple, a soft backdrop of blue mountains.  

How entirely meant to be, this place.  For us.

Here is the short version of the complete miracle of this moment:

The end of 2019…

Again, we knew we needed to leave Minnesota.  There was no peace.  A well-loved, but too-small apartment for a growing family, winter lasting so much of the year, the persistent experience of isolation.  But where to?  Our extended family is spread all over the country, so no clear answer there.  We were able to narrow criteria down to: near some family, ability to be outside where we are our happiest, an supportive community in which we could live our faith, and a Catholic Montesssori education.  

Being sure of the last one surprised us, but it was quite helpful, actually.  After spending four years immersed in Catholic Montessori, we were completely sold. Imagining not being able to give that opportunity to our children if we relocated someplace where it was nonexistent, gave us immense unrest.  So I started googling Catholic Montessori schools and making a list.  It was a tiny list.  Out of maybe a dozen possibilities, there were four in Virginia.  The thought of returning to the state where we met, dated, married, and welcomed our first baby, made me so happy.  It was our beginning, our planting.  Some best friends were in driving distance and some family would be much closer too.

Early 2020

Nicholas notified his employer we would most likely move at the end of the summer when our lease was up.  Being a small organization, his absence would leave a large gap and the thought was that some heads up would be considerate.  They responded, though, by just letting him go.  It was a bit of a shock as we still had several months before we could leave our current living arrangement, and it was too short of a time to start and then quit local employment that would provide for a family of five.

 Jesus, please take care of everything.  

Pressing on I booked a flight with the baby to Virginia, stayed with those two dear friends and went to visit two of those Montessori schools.  I got to take a long look around the cute mountain town they are in and felt much joy about one of the schools in particular.  It was a sort of homeschool-hybrid setup on an old farm.  The classrooms were beautiful and the children moved about freely and purposefully. I was starting to envision family life there and it was exciting.

Spring 2020

Job searching.  Nicholas convinced his former employer to let him work a bit longer to buy some time.  That happened for only a brief bit as covid-19 soon hit and they let him go again.  Several weeks of Nicholas working from home while I homeschooled, frozen inside a small-and-feeling-smaller-apartment.  More job searching and applying and networking.  We were aiming searches especially for anything near that Virginia mountain town, but also needed to cast larger nets as most companies were freezing hiring because of the pandemic.  It’s not even easy in “normal” circumstances to find a suitable job in rural country.  Finding out we were ineligible for unemployment was also quite jolting. 

What a season of turbulence.  Physically feeling the lurches our stomachs, trying to just breathe and trust the Pilot.

Nearing Summer 2020

On Nicholas’ first “official” day unemployed, I planned a morning trip for us to the Arboretum, our outdoor refuge.  Coronavirus cautions in full force now, one needed to make reservations to be admitted to the three-mile drive.  As we approached the entrance, I pulled out my phone to find the electronic tickets in my email.  I saw a new email with the subject, “John XXIII opportunity, phone call.”  Quickly scanning the message, I audibly caught my breath.  It was the school, the school in the cute mountain town, we wanted to send our children to.  They were considering finding a new head of school and wondered if Nicholas would be interested in speaking about the position.  They knew his history as a Catholic Montessori principal, remembered my visit and our hopes to move there one day.  I read the email aloud to him and he exhaled.  Shoulders relaxed down a few inches… could this be real?

At this point we already had set plans to move to Virginia.  Our lease was up in a few weeks and we had to go somewhere.  A moving pod was ordered, boxes were being packed and a friend in Richmond offered their basement apartment as a landing pad.  We’d go there and Nicholas would just start knocking on doors to find a job.  Several phone calls and rounds of zoom interviews, however, resulted in an offer from our “dream school” for Nicholas to become their new director.  Catholic Montessori.  Outdoor beauty.  Mild seasons.  Strong diocese.  Driving distance to close friends.  Jesus, you take care of everything!

The rest of 2020

A whirlwind move to the rented schoolhouse.  Starting a new job, getting to know a new community and their needs.  Camping out with small children going through an overwhelming adjustment.  A crawler kiddie in the least-baby-friendly environment.  Looking to buy a first home in a pressure-cooker market.  Offers put in, being out bid.  Offers accepted, horrendous inspections.  Finally, a place in town with a mountain view… not necessarily “the dream home,” but God opened its door, and we know that what lies behind His open doors are far better than anything behind the ones we try to force open.  She is a 1945 cape cod cottage, near the Shenandoah River.  White brick exterior, wood floors and original glam door knobs. Lots of funky-colored walls and needed repairs, but as they like to say nowadays, the bones are good.  The owners before had two huge canines that left behind layers of dog gunk and hair, but also a mostly-fenced in yard perfect for our child-puppies.  You can see different ranges of the Blue Ridge mountains depending on which porch or grassy sit-spot you find yourself.  After a few months of intense cleaning, a terrible bout of covid-19, and a really hard onset of postpartum depression/ anxiety, we had ourselves a livable home in time for setting up the Christmas tree.

2021 so far…

A new sweet baby growing within. We have a little girl coming at the end of the summer. I just completed a time-intensive design project. I’m entirely exhausted but have hung in there.  All the responsibilities at work and home have been at moments very overwhelming for Nicholas, but he too has hung in there.  Our eldest is still really struggling emotionally from the cross-country move.  The pudgy crawler is now a lanky sprinter.  The middle girlie is evolving from a toddler to little girl.  

The stability of a home, the luxury of a yard to explore, is making a difference.   

We are now two weeks away from the end of the school year, and the days seem to be slowing. Thank you, God, for the warmth and length of these days.  We welcome them and ask you to steady us in their sameness.

Around now

The last few years have shown me that I can make all the goals and deadlines in the world for this space here, but life just happens.  The ideas are always bubbling, and the desire to connect with and serve you is ever fierce.  I will need to keep accepting the limitations of the various seasons or life events, and step faithfully into the spaces to create as they come, or as I am realistically able to carve them out.  My sister shared with me once that she read somewhere that some artists just work in bursts.  They are creatives whose lives consist of more dormant times and then energetic springtimes.  I’m thinking I’m probably one of them.

The post New Life, An Update appeared first on the place she made.

HERE WE GO AGAIN

(CONTINUED FROM PART I)

The next morning I woke up to my pre-5 a.m. alarm.  There was a big snowstorm on the forecast. I called the hospital just like yesterday to see if we could come in.  The nurse informed me they would have to postpone us again due to the high census on the labor and delivery floor.  After all the emotions of yesterday, I took it in stride and called the midwife line to make a plan. I was given a message to go in to the OB clinic to meet her around 9 a.m.  So we took the girls to school and the oldest slipped into her normal routine while the same friend as yesterday took the littlest into her care. My mom and I drove ahead in one car while Nicholas installed carseats in our friend’s car and followed a little later behind.

My sweet midwife greeted me with a smile and empathy about getting bumped twice.  Since I had already been dilated at least 3 cm a few weeks ago, she suggested checking where things were at now so we could then decide what to do.  With Nicholas holding my hand and both he and my midwife helping me with deep breathing (cervical checks are usually very painful for me), she determined I was at least 6 cm dilated now.  Because this was considered advanced dilation, and because of my history of rapid labor, AND because a snowstorm was due that evening (we didn’t want me stuck at home having a baby with no help), my midwife said she was able to admit me to the birth center.  It wouldn’t be safe or advisable to send me home.  

I was going to go have our baby today!  I was overwhelmed with emotion again and hot tears rolled down my face while we waited for her to call over to the hospital.

TO THE HOSPITAL

We went out to tell my mom the news.  She had been praying (and telling the other people in the waiting room to pray) that I could have the baby today.  So we all walked across the cold parking lot to the hospital and up to the third floor where the birthing center is.  Once settled into a triage room and connected to the monitor, Nicholas went to move the car and bring in the bags. I answered health questions while we monitored contractions.  By this point I had started to feel some stronger braxton hicks every once in a while (I wondered if the cervical exam triggered these?), but was astounded when the nurse looked at the reading and said I was actually having consistent contractions about 5 minutes apart.  I went across the hall to go to the bathroom and noticed bright red bleeding.

As we were waiting for a labor and delivery room to open up, I started to feel more nervous and got out my rosary.  I ate a cinnamon applesauce pouch and drank water. I put on my birthing time spotify playlist through my headphones and tried to practice more deep, slow breathing.  These songs helped me actively place my trust in God again. I swayed and breathed while Nicholas rubbed my back.  

LAST PREPARATIONS

Soon my midwife came in to tell me that she would have to leave soon, and that another midwife would be with me during our baby’s birth.  I had really hoped she would get to deliver our baby as we had developed a trusting relationship throughout my prenatal care. She held my hand and gave me a beautifully encouraging pep talk, assuring me that this other midwife for some reason was supposed to attend this birth, and to trust that everything is happening as it should be.  After a truly maternal hug, she left and we waited until a room would open up. 

It was time to move into the room where my son would be born!  The nurse asked more questions, Nicholas put on his swim trunks and set up the diffuser with lavender essential oils in the bathroom, and my mom brought out our battery-powered flickering candles.  We put away bags in the cabinets and dimmed the lights. I was having mild contractions but nothing that distracted me from talking or moving. The new midwife arrived and after a little getting-to-know-you and chat about how it seems like my body is already in early labor, we decided she would check my cervix again.  If it had not progressed beyond 6cm, she would break my water.

I requested a little bit of time to start my hypnobabies audio track (about hypnobabies here).  As I knew things could get fast and furious after water breaking, I wanted to enter into self-hypnosis beforehand and ideally stay in it throughout the whole birthing time.  During my pregnancy I had practiced the hypnobabies tracks as much as I was able, but it was nowhere close to the daily frequency recommended by the program. I didn’t know if it was going to be enough to “work,” but was hopeful and determined to try.

I got settled into the hospital bed and turned on my “easy first stage” track.  In hypnobabies, you are able to enter into a deep self-hypnosis, but also go to a place where you are simultaneously able to move around and communicate with the birthing team.  When I was ready, I let the nurses and midwife know I was ready for the cervical exam, and focused on the audio while breathing and trying to relax through the intense discomfort. I felt a big warm rush of liquid exit me onto the bed as the exam ended and the midwife informed me my water was now broken.  I almost want to cry as I write that. Partly it’s a grieving of a completely non-intervention birth, and partly it’s a remembering that as the powerful moment of no turning back.  

SAFE PLACE, BUBBLE OF PEACE

After the nurse changed the pads/towels under my bottom, I labored sitting propped up on the bed for a while, and entered a deeper and deeper state of hypnosis.  I would describe it as going down by myself in a deep, comfortable safe cave, all the while knowing I could interact with the people up above whenever I needed to.  The “distance” from the birthing room above was comforting and gave me a security my peace was protected down in there. I didn’t need to answer anyone immediately or pay attention to various noises going on around me, but could control or choose to react or interact on my timing (when a wave had subsided or when a guided visualization was transitioning).  I felt confident Nicholas would model or remind any medical professionals to respect my response times.

For some reason I imagined emerald green cushions under and around me in this safe space, and the roof of the cave was painted like Our Lady of Guadalupe’s starry mantle. At one point I had visions of all the supportive people in my life on earth and several saints in heaven, one by one smiling with encouragement and filling me with gratitude.

I moved to sitting on the birthing ball at the end of the bed.  Over the next hour or so the contractions/ birthing waves significantly intensified.  I suddenly felt like I needed food and my mom handed me a couple fig cereal bars. I asked to use one of our backpacks to lean/rest my face on and felt the familiarity of how I practiced at home sitting on my birthing ball and resting my head on the arm of our couch.

I continued to follow the guidance and suggestions of this same audio track.  I noticed that I was indeed “deeper and deeper relaxed” and actually welcoming the intensity of each oncoming wave while breathing out/saying “peaceeee” at the height of intensity.  I used this “peace” cue a LOT. I remember the thought, “I think this is actually working.” During my previous births I was afraid/ resistant when I sensed a contraction coming as I experienced excruciating pain.  Deep in hypnosis I was aware that the intensity of the contractions were on par with previous births, yet they weren’t being registered in my mind (body?) as painful.

DETERMINED FOCUS

Even though I wouldn’t label my laboring as “painful,” it was in no way “easy,” and I was acutely aware that I really needed to continually choose to focus and deliberately surrender my body, releasing all tension when exhaling.  At one point I stood up into “slow dance position” with Nicholas, and his movements were distracting/ bothersome to me. I turned my attention to the annoyance, immediately felt great pain and sensed a surge of anxiety that I’d fall out of “my groove.”  I willed my mind to refocus and returned quickly to my position on the ball. I liked it because I felt supported, yet it seemed to be making room for baby descending. I noticed several times more warm water gushing out onto the towel I was sitting on as a contraction hit its peak and released.  This encouraged me that the waves were doing their job and moving my baby “down and out.”

For the majority of this time laboring focused and peacefully on the ball, Nicholas was at my request applying significant counter-pressure on my lower back with a heated clay pack (I’m pretty sure my mom ran it back and forth from the microwave down the hall).  This was powerful for me, not only for the immense relief it gave, and the physical security of Nicholas’ presence it provided, but for how the heat connected to the hypnosis. A big part of hypnobabies is creating “hypnoanesthesia” and directing that anesthesia with your mind to where it is needed.  It is imagined as a powerful, warm, orange light. This is when I began to have a profound encounter with Jesus.

PEACE I GIVE YOU

If you have seen the movie “Risen,” you may remember the scenes with Jesus near the Sea of Galilee and when he ascended into heaven. When the audio led me to my “safe place,” I felt like I was there in that landscape.  I had the image of floating on my back peacefully next to Jesus floating on his. I was totally trusting my body into the calm water and felt an immense comfort in His presence. Then when the audio referred to the warm orange ball of hypnoanesthesia, I saw Jesus lovingly but quite aggressively hurling the bright ball of light at my womb. Each time, it would explode up and in and hot all around my body. There was an immense warmth wrapping around and squeezing me (kind of like those blood-pressure machines). 

Again, I felt the intensity and immense strength of the sensation during the peak of the wave, but it was not overwhelming or frightening. I kept hearing the message “Peace I leave with you, Peace I give you” in Jesus’s strong and steady voice. I welcomed His peace and audibly breathed out “peaceeeee.” How unexpected all this was, and what a gift!

Nicholas later told me how amazed he was at how calm and relaxed I seemed.  He saw I even smiled at times. He also said that I made it very clear to him not to stop the counterpressure, ha!  He said his arms were killing him but there was no way he was going to stop and let me down. I know how good I had it to have him as my teammate.

CHANGING POSITIONS

At some point the midwife came to check in and while the nurse monitored baby’s heart for a bit, the midwife suggested I change positions.  I didn’t really want to because I felt so calm and recalled starting to feel anxious when I had stood up earlier. She was concerned I was slowing labor by staying there. Though I don’t think she meant anything but to help me, I felt a twinge of defensiveness that I knew what was best for me and didn’t want to be rushed.  I also thought it was very possible that since on the outside I appeared so relaxed, it may have seemed that things were not progressing (though I was sure they were). As soon as I felt that twinge of irritation, though, I also had a more humble thought, “well, she has a lot of experience with this, I might as well try to switch it up and see if that helps us get closer to meeting baby.”  

As soon as I started standing at the edge of the bed, I felt a lot more intense pressure of baby’s head and body moving down.  When a very strong wave would come, I’d lean onto the bed on my forearms so I could still “let go” of much of my weight in the exhaling.  I’d try to stay focused in between waves while standing and “swaying” him down. One of the birthing affirmations that resonated with me was thinking/ encouraging my body, “open, down and out… open, down and out.” 

I was super aware throughout all this time how much I needed to keep my mind disciplined on listening to and following the audio track so that I wouldn’t become “derailed.” I don’t know if that would have actually happened, but my mind was actively working to urge my body on, very much like it had done many times in the past with distance running.  I see now what good mental training that was! I learned I was capable of such determination and focus.

After only a handful of these standing waves,  I began feeling slight urge to bear down at the end of a contraction. The midwife had requested several times to make sure I’d tell her when I wanted to push.  They had already filled the birthing tub half-full and would finish filling it up when I knew it was time.

I hesitated at first to tell anyone that I might want to start pushing a little.  Even though deep down I would say I was pretty certain that the urge to bear down was beginning, I had doubts that it was time… honestly because I wasn’t in distressing pain! Part of my brain was remembering my previous births and the overwhelmingly painful transition stage, and I think I was looking for cues of a similar experience.  I gave myself two more contractions to really tune in attentively to what my uterine and pelvic floor muscles were telling me. That’s all it took to take a leap and verbally announce, “ok, let’s fill up the tub. I want to go to the bathroom and then get in.”

GETTING IN THE TUB

Since my eyes were closed and I was so deeply in the zone, I don’t remember who did what or what exactly happened on the way to the tub.  I have a vague memory of peeing in the toilet, Nicholas being at my right, and telling the midwife in front of me as I stood up how I felt really gassy. She said something about that being good and how this could be things getting out of the way to push baby out. I switched the audio track on my phone to the “pushing stage” and unplugged the headphones to hear it played aloud on the sink counter.

Getting into the warmth of the tub was just so wonderful.  People ask me all the time why I am attracted to water births. Water just helps relax my body so SO much, and I know that is the best place for me to be– relaxed, to attempt a natural birth.

I was pretty immediately aware when I got in the water that I wanted to start pushing.  I don’t remember hearing anymore of the audio track. Nicholas soon got in the tub with me and sat in the same spot he did during our last water birth.  It gave me comfort and I assured myself, “ok, we have done this before, I can do this again!” 

BABY COMING AT LAST

I began deliberately bearing down at the end of each contraction.  It all started to feel overwhelming, like my body was taking over but it still really needed me…my mind…my strength…my heart… all of me to engage and step into the enormity of the moment.

I alternated between leaning back into Nicholas’s chest and kneeling while holding onto his neck.

In the leaning back position I used the handrail, Nicholas’s hand/arm and a nook in the tub as a footrest to anchor my body while pushing.  I used low groaning and tonal noises until the midwife suggested I could also try silent pushing. For some women it’s helpful to push out with the “oomph” of loud sounds while others, by keeping sounds in, use them as internal energy to put towards pushing.  I tried it a few times. It took so much out of me to push, though, and I kept saying that I didn’t feel like I could get a deep enough breath to push hard enough to move him. The midwife had me reach down to see if I could feel his head and I could! I laughed with joy and said, “my baby!”

In the kneeling position, I held on to Nicholas’ neck for dear life and rested my head on his between waves.  I experienced a profound connection to my beloved spouse in this moment! This baby was created in our gift to each other and now we were bringing him into this world! Whispering, “I love you…I love you…” at one point I kissed him.

Another moment between contractions, I smiled in exhaustion and said, “c’mon baby! I want to see you!”  Nicholas encouraged me in my ear as it was getting more and more intense and I struggled to give anything more to the wave. Days later he told me he thought I was going to break his nose at one point from how hard I was pushing up against his face.  

WELCOMING

Again, it is fascinating to me how I can honestly say that I was not in pain this time.  My previous natural births during transition and crowning, I truly felt like my bones and skin were ripping open, in an excruciating and overwhelming fire.  This time, I felt a massive, extreme intensity as baby’s head crowned and I pushed with every ounce of what I had. His head came out to my excitement, but the rest of his body would not release.  I kept pushing with everything and it felt like an eternity, him not budging. I shouted to my midwife, “get. him. OUT!!!!!!!” She calmly answered, “I don’t pull babies out, YOU get to birth your baby.  YOU get to do it, YOU can do it. PUSH!”

It still took about three more every-single-thing-I’ve-got pushes before I felt is body start wiggling and burst through into the water! He was whisked up onto my chest as I turned around and fell back into Nicholas’ chest.  The midwife later told me, that this was one of the most moving moments she has ever seen… me completely spent, falling back into my husband’s protective arms with our baby finally in mine.

ALL THAT FOLLOWED

Baby was purple and quiet as they rubbed him and used the bulb to suck liquid away.  I was concerned and kept asking probably a dozen times, “Is he ok? Is he ok? Will someone tell me if this is normal, is he alright?” Nicholas and the nurses and my mom kept saying he was fine, but I had to say again, “NO. I need someone to tell me he is okay!”  Baby boy started crying and the midwife said “yes! I want you to look at your baby… look at him and enjoy this moment!” I calmed down and held him close with inexplicable joy.

After a few short minutes, the cord was cut and baby was wrapped up and given to Nicholas while I was helped out of the tub.  Right away I felt that big urge to have a bowel movement, an indication that the placenta was wanting to be birthed next. I waddled with assistance to the bed and as the nurses tried to help me sit down, I said, “NO! I can’t!”  They tried again and I thought, “Nope! Sorry guys, it’s coming out now” while pushing the placenta out in one big swoosh, a nurse half-catching it in a plastic bin.

I was then helped onto the bed while the midwife checked out the lady area. This is always such a difficult part for me.  I would need some stitches. Even if I totally trust the medical professional, my body wants to fight anyone who comes near that area after giving birth.  So we asked for nitrous oxide to help with the anxiety through the procedure. My mom held my hand while Nicholas held the baby. Using laughing gas is such a wild experience!  It’s SO helpful and I wholeheartedly recommend it to other mothers considering it as a tool. Especially as it doesn’t stay in your system or ever get to the baby if you’re concerned about that. I said some pretty funny things apparently, and when I would hear the baby cry while waiting for me, I would smile big under the gas mask and shout, “that’s my baby!” 

As the laughing gas wore off, I got to finally hold my son and behold his beautiful face with Nicholas grinning by my side. 

Then one of my favorite moments of the whole day… I turned to my mom, told her what an amazing support she was, and then asked how she was doing after it all.  With big eyes and an exhale she half-joked, “Uh, I could use a DRINK!” What a day. What a year.

The snow started falling that evening and we brought our tiny treasure home on a quiet Thanksgiving Day.

BIRTHING RESOURCES

Thank you for reading and sharing in our joy! Click items below to see my birthing recommendations. Some links are affiliate links, which means I may get a small commission at no cost to you.

HYPNOBIRTHING CHILDBIRTH HYPNOSIS

CLAY HEATING PACK

ESSENTIAL OIL DIFFUSER

BIRTHING GOWN

FLICKERING CANDLES

The post A Positive Hypnobabies Birth appeared first on the place she made.

It is a positive, natural hospital water birth story using the Hypnobabies childbirth method.

FACING FEAR

After six weeks of holding this sweet baby boy on the other side of my belly, I’m happy to finally share our memories of his beautiful, peaceful birth.

“Peaceful” is a word I honestly doubted I would be able to use to describe any of my childbirth experiences.  I hoped, yes! I had read a few positive birth stories, but most I had heard or kept in my mind caused me quite a bit of fear and anxiety. My mind liked to hold on to and perhaps prepare me for all the negative things that could happen.

Even though I had two successful natural births with our daughters, that were amazing and beautiful in their own ways, I struggled most in this third pregnancy finding peace approaching birthing time.  Both daughters’ births involved precipitous labors (extremely fast), and we knew that I could expect another fast labor. “Well that’s a good thing, right?” many puzzled people ask. However, rapid labors can be emotionally and physically overwhelming and often even traumatic for the mother.  There is also the real concern of the short window of getting to the birthing location. I think this last part caused me the most concern this time… I would constantly wonder throughout the pregnancy how I would practically get my girls into the care of a trusted person and to the hospital in time (and without significantly “freaking out” our daughters).  It was a fear I’d constantly bring to prayer and ask for help trusting all would be well, but I never was able to fully let go of it before our son’s birth.

SURRENDER

Surrender would be the theme of welcoming our dear boy into this world.  

If you’ve been following from the beginning of this pregnancy, you’ll remember that doctors predicted significant genetic defects and an eventual miscarriage.  We experienced serious emotional turmoil during the waiting weeks before ultrasound scans showed a completely healthy baby. The next step in letting go was marching through (very sick) weeks and months of another high risk pregnancy.  I have what’s called a dynamic cervix which usually dilates very early in the pregnancy putting the baby at risk of preterm delivery.  I obviously have no control over keeping my baby inside and safe until viability, and that can be, in a word, hard!

This deepening of my learning surrender continued through baby boy’s birth and all the way through the present, to be honest.  As we neared (and celebrated!) full term, I began having new planning conversations with my midwife. Up until baby was term, our plan was to call an ambulance if I went into labor early.  Now we began to really address the fear of needing to get my girls somewhere safe, get to the hospital, and hope Nicholas my husband would make it in time! At 37 weeks I was already dilated 3cm and 80% effaced.  I had been having braxton hicks contractions regularly and several days off and on of prodromal labor. Once I had a real scare thinking baby was coming during an evening trip to Aldi. I told him, “not here and not now, baby!”

DECISION MAKING 

When we made it to 39 weeks, the concern of getting to the hospital safely in labor was more imminent.  My midwife helped me decide that if baby didn’t come on his own over the weekend, I would come in to have my water broken and have baby the Monday morning when I’d be 39 weeks and 2 days.

Although I strongly preferred not to do anything to induce labor (personally feeling uncomfortable choosing baby’s birthing time instead of allowing it to start naturally), I immediately felt a lot of peace agreeing to the midwife’s suggestion.  This way I could have our girls settled with a trusted friend, calmly drive to the hospital with Nicholas (not in intensely painful transition in the car like I did with our girls), and start birthing time in a place of more peace and readiness. I had to wrestle with the fact that there isn’t always a perfect, or right or wrong decision (a reality I’ve had to come to terms with so often in motherhood!). I needed to weigh and compare the risks and benefits of inducing or waiting.  Then I just needed to trust my instincts as well as my extremely trustworthy midwife.

GO TIME

Monday, November 25th rolled around, and super early in the morning we were all ready.  My mother, “Grannie,” had flown in last minute to help us and take pictures at the birth.  All our bags were ready. My close friend across the lake made a feast for breakfast and was prepared to take the girls for the day.  It was surreal that we were calmly, not in panic, heading towards having our baby! 

I called the hospital as I was instructed and the nurse sympathetically informed me that we would have to wait to see if they’d have room to take us, as their birthing rooms were currently full.  There would be a good chance they could take me in a few hours, so we went ahead with our plans, took the girls to our friend’s home. Then Nicholas, Grannie and I went to wait for the nurse’s call at the Target by the hospital.  We looked around for a bit, considered fast-walking laps or doing squats to induce labor, instead got coffee and sat in the rocker chairs in the baby section. It was a strange experience, knowing these were the final hours of having a pregnant belly with my baby within.  I’d get waves of nervousness in my stomach, like the feeling I’d get before the start of a race or sports game.  

LETTING GO AGAIN

The call finally came and we were told that we were bumped for the day.  There was no room for us at the inn! I had a good little cry to release all the emotions and surrender plans again (laughing that this seems to be the lesson I need to keep learning) and we headed home.  Since we had free time without children, Nicholas and I went out for a quiet bite to eat. It was a special few hours having burgers, reminiscing and processing our journey to this point together.

Tomorrow we would try to have a baby again!

TO BE CONTINUED….

READ ON HERE IN PART II

The post Our Peaceful Hospital Birth Story appeared first on the place she made.

Free at last

They finally let us out! I was officially discharged from our long stay at the hospital when you were 34 weeks old in my womb. That morning was a glorious morning! 

The doctors arrived and after a quick exam,  they told me that the amount of dilation had not changed a bit for 10 weeks.  Your waters (the liquid bag you were swimming around in) were still bulging and all were amazed that I hadn’t gone into labor yet.  

Now you had grown big enough that if I were to go into labor early, we would most likely have adequate time to get to a hospital  before you were born.

As soon as the doctors said their goodbyes and left to start working on the paperwork that would release us, I popped out of bed and started packing!

 The nurse said we could take our time gathering our things. I held back a massive, “HA!!!” and instead replied with a polite, “thank you” and continued on my mission to bust out of that room …and wing and… whole building!  Excruciatingly sore muscles the next day taught me how unwise it was to suddenly start moving around like that after so much time on bedrest.

Once all the paperwork was complete, I snapped one last shot of our hospital board as Daddy finished loading up our car.  It was exhilarating to be wheeled outside, helped into the passenger side of our little Honda Fit, still pregnant with your empty carseat installed in the back seat.

I briefly thought back a few weeks to one of our wheelchair outings when Daddy showed me he had just put in your carseat.  I weeped and weeped and laughed with joy and was moved by yet another act of faith and hope your father did for me, for us.

Going Home

It was the strangest thing, that ride home!  It was odd seeing the world outside the hospital, yet it felt so normal as if the past 10 weeks hadn’t even happened.

We arrived at our tiny cottage on Brady’s Hill Road and Daddy held my arm as my very weak legs slowly climbed the steps.  Grannie and Papa were outside working in our little garden beds, finishing up their recent visit from Florida.

I don’t remember too much about the following few weeks, except a whirlwind of packing and an a gradual increase of physical activity again.  During our hospital stay, we were informed that our landlords had sold their property and we would need to find a new home and move out soon!  

On moving day a few weeks after returning home, Daddy had rounded up a legion of strong guys to do all the heavy work and Nana had arrived from California to help us unpack.  Uncle David and Aunt Debbie also arrived to help and for a week we had a blast settling into our new apartment in Lake Ridge.  Nana, UD and AD took us on a shopping spree to IKEA, UD patiently installed curtains and Nana and AD heroically covered our cabinets with pretty contact paper.  Daddy put together the cosleeper by our bed and I set up the den as your little nursery.  There was always a bottle of wine open on the counter and Daddy was loving having his family with us.

Things Changing

When you were around 37 weeks, Daddy got to start his summer vacation.  For two weeks we reveled in our new, completely settled home.  I would often sleep in and wake up to Daddy reading on the balcony, ready to have coffee together.  One morning he surprised me by having done all the research necessary to confidently tell me it was safe for me to go swimming (I had numerous restrictions like this suggested by doctors).  I excitedly shrieked and we went to the pool at our apartment that day.  As I eased into the water, it felt like all my body pain had instantly disappeared and I again, cried and cried and laughed in gratitude while Daddy held me and pulled me around in circles.

On the last day of July, we were 39 weeks along (miracle!) and we decided to go on a shopping trip to get Daddy some work clothes for the upcoming school year.  Daddy remembers that I told him, “something’s different today.”  I think you felt lower in my belly for one, but what else… I’m not sure I could describe what was different- I just knew there was some sort of new shift in my body.

  I recall noticing that my strength was increasing some as I was able to stand and browse dress shirts and squat down to reach some on low shelves.  We made it to the checkout after waiting in a very long line when we realized we had grabbed the wrong size of one of the shirts.  I fast-walked like nobody’s business to the rear of the store and back, feeling you even lower in my belly.

Back at home, I was folding laundry on the couch in the living room while Daddy was sitting nearby.  It was evening time, in the 6 o’clock hour, and we had just called to wish Uncle Jake a “happy birthday.”  I started to notice some tighter and more frequent Braxton Hicks contractions.  I suggested to Daddy, “Let’s practice timing these.” Excited to rehearse he said, “okay!” and started timing how long the contractions would last, and how far apart they were, on his wrist watch.  It was about 6:45 p.m. 

And it Began

The timing between the first and second contraction was about 14 minutes.  The next interval was 10 minutes and the next around 12.  They started feeling stronger so I announced, “I’ll go take a shower and see if they go away.”  Daddy kept timing, the next contraction arriving 8 minutes later.  Then the contractions became significantly more intense.  The following string of contractions were about 5 minutes apart.  

At that point, I had sat down in the tub to focus on breathing, and switched the water from the shower head to the tub faucet.  Daddy sat on the floor outside the tub and I did my best to say out loud when I thought one had started and finished.  We attempted to try our Bradley Method script meant to guide me through “the waves” but I just could not focus.  I kept apologizing I couldn’t do it, it seemed like I just couldn’t follow the pace of his voice and slow down enough to enter into that place of calm.

Daddy got on the phone with the midwife and gave her the details.  She said to keep her updated and then Daddy called our friend and doula Laura.  After he explained what was going on, she said it seemed like things were happening and to also keep her updated.  While he was on the phone I had moved out of the tub and was having trouble breathing slowly through the intensity of the contractions.  I don’t remember this at all, but Daddy  said I showed him that the mucous plug had passed (and he recalls thinking, “Whoah! This is it.”).  He had stopped timing contractions at this point, trying to both communicate on the phone and be present to me. The  midwife called back a few minutes later and said to Daddy, “I was thinking about your history and actually think it would be a good idea to come in.” Calling back Laura, she answered, “Yeah… I’m already filling up the car with gas and am on my way!” 

While Daddy ran around grabbing things on our list, I got dressed between intense (can I say brutal?) contractions in the bedroom.  I remember leaning on the bed during one and wondering, if these are early labor contractions, how in the world was I going to be able to handle the later ones?

I made it to the front door and sat down between the next few contractions to put my shoes on.  Daddy was ready to go by then and I looked up and asked him if we could just stay here.  He firmly gave a negative and I asked, pleadingly, “just one more contraction here.”   He said, “absolutely not!” urged me up, out the door and down the stairs.  I moaned though another intense contraction standing outside the car door, apparently in front of a few neighbors smoking cigarettes, then we got in the car.  With eyes closed, I cried and told Daddy, “I don’t know if I can do this…” which is the exact line many women say when they are in transition.  I also added at some point, “I feel like pushing.”  With eyes big, Daddy knew it was serious and threw the car into reverse.

Unforgettable car ride

Daddy raced us down Old Bridge Road while I clung onto the roof grab handle with my right hand and the arm rest with my left. Daddy shot a text to Aunt Catie to tell her we were on our way to the hospital. The next contraction began. I screamed and wailed through that one, total opposite of the cool and collected me I had imagined I could be during labor.

Our birth classes encouraged us to use different language  during labor for painful sensations, such as “strong pressure” or “more intense.”  Frankly, I kept thinking, “nope. this is definitely pain. a lot a lot a lot of pain.”  Honestly, it felt to me like my pelvic floor bones were being torn apart like a wishbone on Thanksgiving Day.

However, a Good and Gracious God allows breaks between contractions.  Daddy remembers that every time a contraction subsided, I would just say, “Thank you, God.  Thank you, God.  Oh thank God for this break.  I’m so grateful…” and then “oh no! here comes one again!” and back to clawing at Daddy’s arm and trying my best to breathe through the next few minutes.  Daddy would suggest another loved one in our lives I could offer that contraction for.  He’d say, “ok, this one’s for Catie, this one is a prayer for Catie!”

We both will never ever forget the stunning and massive full moon that rose that night and about filled our entire windshield.  Between the first several contractions on the road we marveled in complete awe at its beauty.

45 minutes later, Daddy pulled us up to the front door of the hospital.  We got out of the car, he ran around to my side and standing leaning on him, I made it through another contraction.  We walked into a quiet lobby and somehow Daddy found a wheelchair.  He didn’t even park the car and rushed me to the elevator.  I clung to my rosary as tears poured out of my eyes through another contraction.

“Stop and Drop”

The woman at the Labor and Delivery welcome desk asked if I was in labor (Daddy and I thought this was absurd and quite obvious) and she told Daddy that for some reason they didn’t have our necessary paperwork.  We had made sure to pre-register, but they didn’t have it.  When she said,”you need to fill out this paperwork,” Daddy just took the packet, walked right past her to follow a nurse that seemed to be a little more aware of the urgency.

Once in the room, one of the nurses suggested they check how far along/ dilated I was and I said loudly, “NO THANK YOU, I need to use the restroom.” Daddy says one of the nurses made an offended face like, “woah, alright fine…” but they left me alone.  Side note, Daddy says that was the same nurse I “splashed” when my water broke. Oh goodness! 

After peeing, another contraction started and I just remained sitting on the toilet.  I felt so much pressure from your head.  Karen, the midwife, arrived on a mission and led me to the bed. After stripping my dress off and checking me, she declared, “well! this baby is coming! I’m going to break your water and then you’ll start pushing.”

I don’t remember the gushing waters, but Daddy says it was a sight to see!  He came to one side and our doula Laura had arrived and joined me on the other.  A nurse prepared an epidural, but the midwife, knowing I had wanted if possible to have an unmedicated birth, told her we weren’t going to need it.  They kept trying to clip a sensor of some sort (to read my oxygen levels?) on my index finger, and I asked them to take it off as it was really distracting me.  The nurse told me they need to keep it on.   I yanked it off when I started pushing during the next contraction. It’s not that I wanted to be defiant… at that point, there was just no caring about anything but getting you birthed!

The memories we have during the pushing stage are me telling Daddy he had bad breath, me begging for help holding my legs as I was still so weak to hold them on my own while lying on my back, and Karen asking me if I wanted to touch your head when you were crowning (I said “no” and Daddy peeked and said, “whoah!”). 

Then you were here.  

At 9:53 p.m., through the fire, came the most beautiful baby girl.

Our girl

The doctors took you right away to a nearby station to check you out/ clean you up as there was some meconium in your waters.  As the midwife and our doula were helping me birth the placenta and stitch the tear, Daddy stayed right by you, in shock how they “manhandled” you with all the quick rubbing, liquid sucking, etc.  They concluded by wrapping you up and placing you in his strong, gentle arms, with a “congratulations!”

After the necessary procedures, I got to hold you to my chest. My baby! Our girl! The euphoria of your presence, your warmth, your smell, your life.

Holding you, we started processing everything. We could hardly believe you were born under 4 hours (what the hospital staff call a “stop and drop”). I could hardly believe I made it through that birth. The women in the room told me what a rockstar pusher I was and I felt proud. Someone gave me a big bag of trail mix, and I ate it ravenously! You started latching and nursing. We realized maybe we should let family know you arrived, so we texted a picture of you and Daddy to Aunt Catie for her to spread the word.

What a complete whirlwind. We could finally see your perfect face! Gaze and smile upon this miracle child who would never cease to surprise and delight us. We are forever thankful for your health, your presence, the unrepeatable gift of you, dear daughter. I pray you always know, without any doubt, how profoundly precious and loved you are, how deeply wanted and cherished. Your Creator is so Beautiful in all His ways… may we never lose our wonder, sweet girl.

Love, Mama

The post May We Never Lose our Wonder (II) appeared first on the place she made.

July 30, 2019

Dear Daughter, 
In the wee hours of the morning, you are sitting cross-legged by the refrigerator, gingerly moving around some magnets.  As I move about the kitchen to an old morning worship playlist, I hear you begin singing perfectly along to this song I didn’t know you had ever paid attention to… “You are beautiful in all your ways… may we never lose our wonder…”  

I abruptly stopped what I was doing to just watch you, and memories fill my heart of those ten weeks that formed us.  

HOSPITAL MORNINGS

Routinely, after watching the sun rise over the trees outside my hospital room window, I would carefully stand and start this morning worship playlist, turn to tidy and top my hospital bed with a colorful patchwork quilt, then head to the handmade “count-up” calendar taped to the wall. Plus one more day.  We made it one more day and night with you growing in my womb. Defying all the specialists’ predictions. Marker uncapped, recording the gift of it, of you, for one more day.

May we never lose our wonder!

When I would wake, your Daddy would have already left to drive to work.  Besides the first few nights of being hospitalized, they allowed him to stay with us, and he did, every night for almost 3 months in that little room. He’d pull his suit and tie out of the room’s tiny closet, commute south for the day, and come back every evening to have dinner with us. Then he’d do it all over again the next day.

A FEW STEPS BACK- THE UNPLEASANT SURPRISE 

Back when you were 20 weeks in the womb, we went to have the routine hour-long ultrasound where the sonographer would check out your every little finger and toe.  Because you were so active, they weren’t able to see an important part of your nose, so we were invited to come again in a few weeks to give it another try.  I said that it didn’t matter much to me, but your Daddy suggested we go ahead and do it, so we returned four weeks later. After what seemed like a normal ultrasound appointment, the technician informed us that we would need to talk to our midwife immediately, and we could wait in the waiting room until they reached her by phone.  

I was handed a phone and the concerned voice of my midwife asked, “how are you feeling?” Me: “I feel fine, thanks! What is going on?”

 Midwife: “Serra Ann, your scan shows that your cervix is funneling and dilated 3-4cm.  That is a lot, and baby is only 24 weeks. This is not good.” She was quiet.

My stomach sunk and she asked a few more questions like, “you aren’t feeling any contractions?” (me: “no”) and eventually said she is going to have to transfer us to the OB at the hospital.  She directed us not to go too far and to wait for a phone call.

We had an old Applebees gift card with us, so your Daddy and I thought we could go wait there and try to eat something.  Our stomachs were nervous and we ordered some mediocre meal until we got the phone call to go to INOVA Fairfax hospital, where I’d be assessed and discuss things with the doctor. After much monitoring, even though I was not experiencing any signs of labor, the maternal fetal medicine specialists told us we could expect preterm labor any day (hour?) now, and would need to remain hospitalized on bedrest to give you immediate access to the NICU when you would arrive. 

This would give you the best fighting chance at life.

OUR RESPONSE

Daddy and I were pretty shocked and honestly a bit scared.  Especially in the beginning when we became more educated about viability and survival rates at your gestational age.  With the exception of a few nurses, everyone seemed to look at our situation pretty dismally. I was asked to remain lying in bed (even at a decline) unless I needed to use the restroom or wanted to take a shower once a day.  I wouldn’t be allowed to be wheelchaired outside until 5 weeks later, when the doctors felt more comfortable taking that risk.

From day one there with you, it was hard to choose hope!  The same day I was hospitalized, one of my dear friends gave birth to a beautiful baby girl who 4 days later tragically died.  It was utterly heartbreaking, and it was so real to us, the possibility of losing you.  

I received bouquets of flowers and encouraging cards from thoughtful family and friends. I’ll never forget, however, when early on your Daddy went on a quick “errand” and brought back a large, full-on, potted flowering plant for my window.  He was actively leading us in faith that we were going to be there for a while, helping us to hope in your full-term healthy birth. I would fix my teary eyes on those beautiful pink azaleas, thanking God for you and trying to trust His plan.

A NEW “NORMAL”

After a week or so of spending bedrest making work phone calls to transfer my counseling clients, I drafted a routine for how I’d spend my days.  I started every day making my bed, showering and getting dressed in normal clothes to my worship playlist. It helped me stay out of an “I’m sick” mindset and in a “I’m waiting and trusting and hoping” frame of mind.  A hospital volunteer helped me learn how to hand-sew you a quilt, I fixed Aunt Catie’s baby doll Suzie, I watched videos on breastfeeding, revised your birth plan regularly, read books, watched “Fixer Upper” and finished our baby registry.  

A sweet old nun would visit me and pray for me on her rounds and the chaplain of my graduate school even visited several times to celebrate Mass with us.  We used my hospital tray on wheels as a humble altar and got in trouble for lighting real candles! The tears would well up during communion when I knew the Body of Jesus was literally entering my body and being shared with yours in my womb! May we never lose our wonder!

I received so many friends and family visitors to encourage me and cheer us on.  Once we had a pizza party with Grannie and Papa, Aunt Ele, Aunt Catie and Uncle Graeme.  Granddad was able to come often (and always brought delicious food) as his work allowed him to take calls nearby the hospital.  Aunt Catie and all my dearest girlfriends threw a lovely baby shower for us in the family room on our hospital floor. So much love for you, even before you were born, dear daughter.

MORE MEMORIES, AND THE HARD MOMENTS

I used to request that the therapy dog visitors come back when Daddy was off work so that he could enjoy a petting session with them.  We played many rounds of the card game “Phase 10” and tried once to play Monopoly (ask Daddy someday how well that went over, ha!). During the later weeks of our stay, I looked forward to the hour Daddy would come home and wheel me outside.  One day we went on a wheelchair adventure in search of all the vending machines until we found one that had peanut M&Ms.  

Every day and night the nurses would strap monitors on my growing belly to record your heartbeat and any contractions.  Every every(!) time, you would elbow or kick or punch the exact spot they placed it, making a loud POUUF on the speaker.  I would giggle or smile knowingly that you were my Spunky Suzie making your presence and preferences clear to all. 

Although when I look back I can identify all the goodness and blessing upon our little family during those long weeks, they were filled with ongoing suffering.  Bedrest took a major toll on my body and as the days and weeks went by, I became physically very weak. It was hard to lay all day and night in the air mattress hospital bed designed for preventing bed sores.  Every small movement would trigger the bed to inflate or deflate in various places. I wasn’t able to go outside and breathe fresh air for five weeks. I often felt claustrophobic and frustrated and  exhausted and trapped. One low moment, in the middle of the night, I was so uncomfortable and depressed that I started sobbing and wailing “I can’t do this anymoreeee!!!” and it brought the concerned nurses running thinking I had gone into labor.

But we grew together, baby girl! You and I and Daddy. In patience, in perseverance, in hope and in wonder, until we reached 34 weeks and convinced the doctors to discharge us to go home.

To Be Continued… your birth story up next!

The post May We Never Lose Our Wonder appeared first on the place she made.

Have you been following my Instagram stories this past  month @theplaceshemade? If so, you’ve had a little peek into what goes into beautifying a Montessori space.  Today’s post gives Montessori guides (aka teachers), catechists, and parents ideas for beautifying their own given environment. I also share some before and afters of our most recent project.

First of all, I am not a trained Montessori guide! I have done a lot of research over the past few years on the Montessori environment, but I leave the material set-up piece to the professionals. This post focuses on what I am experienced with: taking what you’ve been given in a space and intentionally beautifying it for certain use.

Have you been entrusted with a space to care for? If what you are faced with seems pretty depressing, don’t be discouraged!  I am sharing 5 tips below that will make the ugliest room much more pleasant and inviting.

Looking at Whatcha Got

There are limits to take into consideration with any space. For example, a common one is the appearance and structures of an old building, and another is a small budget.  In this particular makeover, there could also be no painting of walls or changing of the carpeted floors. Thankfully, the carpet is an unobtrusive blue and works fine with the color scheme we’ve been adopting throughout the building.  The very grey walls pose a big challenge for the vision for these spaces. The aim is a sense of brightness and fostering an experience of deep joy. I love to incorporate white as well as natural fabrics and elements to help with this.

A Little About Montessori Classrooms

If you’re a Montessori guide, you could probably skip reading this paragraph! For others new to Montessori: in this method of education, the classroom materials used really speak for themselves.  Visitors not familiar with Montessori may wonder why the typical bright-colored posters, preschool decorations and plastic materials are not present.  Some at first glance may even think that it looks too “boring.” It is actually quite purposeful though, to make decoration choices so as not to distract from the incredibly beautiful materials!  

The Value of Beauty

“The objects surrounding the child should look solid and attractive to him, and the ‘house of the child’ should be lovely and pleasant in all it’s particulars; for beauty in the school invites activity and work, as adults know that domestic beauty nourishes domestic unity.”

-Maria Montessori, The Child and the Family

When so much focus goes to preparing the classroom materials, it is easy to neglect the overall beauty and feeling of the room.  For some, admittedly, big picture design just isn’t their interest or forte. It can also be challenging to be resourceful in using lots of second-hand furniture and materials without the whole room looking too “hodge podge.”  Again, an aging building paired with unfortunate unattractive colors and existing structures add to the challenge. This is where incorporating a few simple design guidelines can make a huge impact in a Montessori space. These can also be applied to your own home and work spaces!

5 Tips for Beautifying a Space

1. Discard or replace ugly or loud items. Sometimes it is easy to fall into using or decorating with ugly things simply because they’re available.  Plastic or glaring-patterned things can very quickly create an eyesore. They disrupt the peaceful ambience in an otherwise calmly-colored natural environment. Less (and lovely) is more.
2. Treat the windows.  Curtains or other fabric framing the windows really highlights the beauty of light and brings in the outdoors.
3. Draw the eyes up.  Utilize the height of the room to create a feeling of fresh spaciousness.  This can be done with installing curtains higher! Try draping large fabric scarves or hanging interesting beautiful natural items from the ceiling.
4. Draw the eyes down and around. Strategically-placed area rugs add so much warmth and welcome to a space.  I especially like large circular rugs as they add balance and a spirit of togetherness to boxy rectangular rooms.  Adding a number of identical smaller rugs throughout a large room can counteract the tendency toward “hodge-podginess.” Rugs magically make the whole area feel nice and cohesive.
5. Add greenery! As much as possible! Montessori celebrates the beauty of nature, and as humans we benefit so much from indoor plants.  After assessing how much sunlight comes in through your windows and where it hits throughout the day, decide which plants (high, medium or low level of light) are appropriate and bring them in.  If you don’t have sunlight, there are some very realistic faux plants that can evoke similar benefits to the real ones. Fresh cut flowers, or even branches or large leaves set in vases are other great options.

Transformations

I’ll finish with a few pictures of what a difference just these 5 things can make in a space.  I’m also a firm believer that the love poured into a room through beautification work forever impacts the persons who enter! 

Send me questions or your own favorite room make-over tips in the comments.  Happy Placemaking, friends! Love, Serra Ann

*traditional preschool classroom photo via https://kiddikollegechildcare.com/preschool-vs-pre-kindergarten/ and *Jacaranda Tree Montessori Toddler Community classroom photo via Simone Davies

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Are you ready to set your child up for smooth morning and evening success? As I’m preparing for the school year to start next week, I wanted to share one of our favorite ways to minimize morning and bedtime stress in our home…

*Picture Routine Charts!* Hooray!

 Yes, I hear this cheering in my head, that’s how much I appreciate these things and how they help nudge particularly resistant toddlers to keep moving forward. A yearish ago I made a rough one by hand for our then 3-year old, and it was an amazing little aid in helping her through frustrated feelings related to getting ready tasks. Thankfully, a routine chart is a quick and easy tool to whip up for your little one too! 

INTENTION 1: FOR INDEPENDENCE

I’ve briefly mentioned here before the Montessori principle of helping children experience independence as much as possible.  Some call it the “help me to help myself” concept.  When we have a radical trust in our child’s own process (along with an informed mind regarding their abilities developmentally), it is beautiful to witness what a child does with that space given to learn and grow. It’s true we accompany and support their process, but it is only when we hold back from interrupting and offering (too much) help, can our children have a chance to build self-confidence, a sense of personal agency and inner pride. 

I know I personally don’t give my children this opportunity to develop their potential when I rush us through a series of tasks. I tend to want to just quickly do most of it myself because it’s “easier” and more efficient according to the clock. It is challenging for me to be patient in the opportune moments.  When I think about it even more, much of my “inability” to allow my girls to practice and experience their own abilities comes down to me not being prepared beforehand. I need to plan for generous amounts of getting ready time, for instance. I need to have their materials ready (like clean laundry available, and a non-empty tube of toothpaste!). I need to have thought through and explained the process on their level. Clear morning and evening routines are a prime example.

INTENTION 2: FOR CONSISTENCY

Another key Montessori concept is having consistency in the environment. Children crave and thrive on order, and frequent routine changes can hinder their learning process. Having the knowledge of what to expect is not only comforting, but it allows the child to enter more deeply into her learning.

Making picture routine charts for our home keeps me from randomly doing things differently every day.  If one of us parents presents a particular process in one order and another does it differently, we might see our child get agitated. She may not be eager to participate because of the disorganization. She may assume that she won’t succeed if she doesn’t quite know where things are or what she is supposed to do.

INTENTION 3: FOR PARENTAL SANITY

Well thought out (and simple) routine charts take the pressure off the parent.  Do you, like me, hate feeling like the naggy nagger mother? It’s so unpleasant hearing my voice like a broken record saying “please put your shirt on… it’s time to brush your teeth… we need to use the toilet first, what happened to your shirt?” etc.  Instead, with our picture charts, we get to refer to the established routine and ask, “what does your chart say comes next?” 

HOW TO WHIP THEM UP 

1. Sit down and write out what your morning and evening routines look like now.

 Is there a particular order you are drawn to? Do you like it?  Are there new things you would like to start incorporating ?  Is anything unnecessary or not as important that you could leave out?

2. After making your edits, write a first draft of the new routines you’d like to adopt.  

It can just be on a legal pad or piece of computer paper!

3.  Try out guiding your children through this written routine (verbally) for several days to a week.  

See how it went… does the order make sense?  Were there any difficulties you could brainstorm a solution for? Edit your changes.

4.  Make your charts!

My drawing skills aren’t the best (i.e., my four-year-old: “Mama, what is this a picture of? Really? It doesn’t really look like that at all”).  This time around, I turned to canva.com to make some simple ones.  

*If drawing or making your own on the computer does not excite you, you are welcome to print mine or use a blank template by going HERE.  If you choose the blank template, you can simply copy and paste some free clipart into a Word document, print, cut and finally glue the pictures to the chart.*

5. Consider “extras.” 

Some families like to have their charts laminated and allow their children to make a check mark or large “X” over completed tasks with a dry-erase marker.  I’ve heard of others using magnets on a fridge or clothespins clipped along the side to have their children move over the item to the opposite side when they complete them. 

6. Place your charts in a communal space and at a visible height for your child.

Choose a spot where the routines are accessible to everyone for reference.

7.  Present the routine and charts to your family. 

Perhaps the night before you can bring the child(ren) to where the new charts are located and say something like, “I made something lovely for us, this one is to guide us through getting ready in the morning for the day, and this other one is to help us during bedtime.  Let me show you how it works and tomorrow we can try it out together.”

8.  Make sure both parents are on board! 

If you didn’t consult with your spouse initially, (which probably is a good idea, now that I’m thinking of it!), make sure you go over the charts with him and share your vision for how you’re hoping you’d both use them. Remembering consistency is so helpful for the child.

9.  Give the routines at least a couple weeks to take root.  

Perhaps some small details are bothering you after several days to weeks and you decide it’s worth it to make a small tweak or two to your routine. No biggie, just be sure to explain the changes to the child)(ren).  For example, “I noticed that we may like it better to do this part of our routine after this other part.  Let’s try out together today and see how we like it!”

GO FOR IT

Get your free picture chart templates and other great home resources by going HERE. Let me know if you try them out and how it goes!  Tag me @theplaceshemade on instagram with pictures of your own charts, I’d love to see them.  Also share any of your other routine chart tips for us in the comments below. 

Happy Placemaking! Love, Serra Ann 

PIN IT FOR LATER

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A Brief Background

After graduating from a large state university in Florida, I prepared to move to the DC area for graduate studies in clinical psychology. Before moving, I kept having a thought in prayer to try a year long dating fast. It’s a weird concept to many people, but the purpose would be to give myself a nice period of time focused on adjusting to a huge change, my studies, and rooting my identity more in God, rather than trying to “meet someone.”

After a year, I started discerning more seriously a possibility that I might have a calling to religious life.  As studies would allow, I went on weekend retreats, visited different communities, and stayed with one in particular for a week, immersing myself in the sisters’ prayer schedule and work life. It was beautiful. 

My heart rejoiced while participating in the rhythms of prayer, in the times of silence, and in the profound moments serving those in need. I was eager and open to whatever path God would lead me down.  I asked God in prayer to show me His loving plan for my life, where specifically he wanted me to give my heart.

After my week-long visit, I hoped there would be great clarity.  Rather than an obvious YES or NOPE, it seemed like He was giving me more of a quiet, (but clear), “not yet” or “not now.” I remember sharing this with my sister in a sushi place in NYC, visiting her after my stay with the sisters.  I felt hot tears streaming down my face as she listened lovingly. My heart longed to give itself totally in love to another. It was a painful longing in the waiting, to be in the middle of the “not now.”

A Shift

One of the sisters who helped with vocational discernment met with me before I completed my visit.  After listening to my history and experience and asking a few good questions, she suggested considering being open to dating for a bit. It was now Autumn, and I intentionally decided to take her advice to be more open to dating.  For this homebody, that meant I would choose to participate more in social opportunities, even (especially!) if I felt nervous or uncomfortable or just not interested.

Surprise, Surprise

Only weeks later, a group of friends was getting on their costumes for a Halloween party.  I received some texts urging me to join, and I had some serious resistance to going this particular evening.  Parties were far from this introvert’s favorite thing, and I most definitely was not loving the idea of making an effort to come up with a costume.

I could not escape my own reminders in my head that I had resolved to push myself socially.  I also truly had nothing, no excuse, of needing to do anything on this particular evening. Reluctantly, after a few texts back to the friends dressing up as Peter Pan characters, it was decided I could easily go as Peter Pan’s shadow, simply wear all black.  Ok, perfect!

It was a small house party, and I knew most of the people there from my school, so I made myself some mint tea in the kitchen then relaxed into comfortable chit chat. At some point a dark-haired handsome guy came into the small kitchen area.  He was dressed as a sea captain and I said a “hi” as we crossed paths. He said to me apologetically, “I’m sorry I don’t remember your name…” I responded, “oh we haven’t met before, I’m Serra Ann.”

Now Nicholas has always been emphatically certain that I initially said “Hi Nicholas,”  causing that embarrassed feeling in his gut of “oh no, we have met before and I don’t remember her.” I, on the other hand,  have always been quite convinced I didn’t include his name in my hello… how could I if I didn’t know who he was? Regardless of who has the correct version in their memory, Nicholas was at that point “intrigued” at the familiar way I greeted him, and thought, “who is this woman? I’m going to find out!”

We had a few good conversations here and there throughout the evening.  I remember Nicholas smiling a lot and asking good questions. He was a theology teacher, and I could tell from our chats that he had a real missionary spirit and love for his students. I noticed a refreshing maturity about him and recall thinking how encouraging it was to know there was a solid guy out there teaching high schoolers the faith.  After that night, though, this close-to-stranger left my mind.

I was surprised a week or so later to hear a rich, masculine, voice on my voicemail.  I had recently been using a new phone and was checking my old number’s voicemail one last time before shutting it down for good.  It was Nicholas Fonte, sharing he had enjoyed our conversation the other night, and wondering if I’d like to continue it over coffee sometime.  “Call me back and let me know either way… if yes, great, if no, I can take it like a man, just please let me know!” Now here’s a confident guy!

First Date

He came by to pick me up after classes one Thursday evening.  I styled my hair into a low, side messy bun and wore dark skinny jeans, a grey sweater, and an emerald-colored silk floral scarf.  Simple and cute.

I opened the door to a big smiley face and without thinking twice, gave Nicholas a quick friendly hello hug. He remembers being surprised by that, as DC girls apparently aren’t big huggers. He was dressed in a spiffy button-down and dress pants combo (and made sure to tell me he had just come from work, so I wouldn’t think he had overdressed for coffee).  Nicholas opened doors like a gentleman and we had a nice light chat on the way to my favorite coffee shop down the road.

He ordered a small black coffee and a granola bar, I asked for a mint tea. We settled across from each other at a small table along the far wall, while behind me at the front window, a large geriatric jazz band began to set up for their evening show. We talked for a while and periodically paused to enjoy the performance… these senior musicians were really really really good.  

We continued our conversation and at some point,  Pat, a bright-lipsticked 80-year old superstar started singing “A Good Man is Hard to Find.”  Every time she’d sing that line, Nicholas would stop mid-sentence and say with a mischievous eye twinkle, “It’s TRUE, you know!”  It made me laugh! I learned the basics of Nicholas’ story, and one thing he shared after another resonated deeply with my own values and interests.  It wasn’t too long before a loud thought flashed in my mind:

“uh oh. This guy might end up being the one.” 

The Question

Ten months into a beautiful courtship, on the feast of the Queenship of Mary, we started a date with some silent time in prayer inside our empty church.  Afterward, we walked outside to visit the statue of Our Lady of Guadalupe, which was surrounded by bright peach-colored rose bushes. To my total surprise, a gorgeous blue engagement ring was there waiting at her feet.  I gasped when I saw it and turned to see Nicholas on his knee. I let out a second gasp! With a big smile and just few words, he asked me to be his wife. Speechless, we embraced and I repeatedly nodded into his chest. It was the start of our story and I love it.

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