Tag Archives: pregnancy

sunday morning quiet : a guest post by Morgan Day Cecil

This post was written by Morgan Day Cecil, a few months back while just before giving birth to her daughter, Emma. It is a part of a short series of posts about motherhood that I will be running on this blog for the next month or so.

Morgan and I have known each other for a few years now, having “met” (in the virtual sense) through the wonderful world that is the internet – we both blogged in our previous lives about single parenthood and life in general. Our stories are similar – she had a baby, she met  the man that the universe intended for her, got married, had another baby (very recently) and is living out her happily ever after.

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It is a Sunday morning and it is quiet. My husband has gone for a workout at the gym and my son, gratified with a belly full of cereal, is playing in his room. It is just I and the Emma in my womb, 2 weeks shy of being born. And it is quiet, not in the way of an empty meadow or a room with no souls, but quiet in my heart with the stillness and peace of happy.

There is the sound of a slow train and our new Tivoli radio playing old jazz. And then the buzz of the microwave  me my coffee in my favorite mug is now reheated. I am in slippers, a Natori bathrobe, and with warm drink in hand I return to the chair by the window where it seems I might just be able to sit and stay for while with my bible, and just be in this perfect kind of quiet—

Or, no.

My babe with the Spidey underwear comes down the stairs in tears.  All is not right in his  5 year old world. His little heart is sad and he comes to his momma for help. I, this little man’s momma, is ready with a hug and already praying she can fix whatever is broke.

A Cars 2 Train is the center of this drama. A piece has dislodged and it is devastating the boy with the blueberry eyes. I tell him to breathe. I breathe and then I surprise us both by actually fixing the toy.  There is a God who comes to our aid.

All is better and he runs back up stairs to tell Finn McMissile he can safely board now the spy train taking him on his next mission.

I stay in my chair by the window, for a moment, Sunday morning light pouring in, Jazz still playing. Coffee is no longer hot but the quiet never left me. I smile, give thanks to the God who never left me either, and stand to return to the microwave. For the third that morning I reheat my mug. This time I reflect on how motherhood is all about the little interruptions that make up a life.

And because of all the interruptions, Motherhood is about falling in deep friendship with your own patient, loving breath so you can be in these interruptions not interrupted. If you can carry even small pockets of peace and stillness with you moment to moment you will never be separated from self, from heart, from the God that guides you and created you mother.

Please, Lord, help me remember this quiet place, where all is not forever perfect– broken moments pierce us and those we love– but all can be made right by gently being with whatever is and by breathing in this place with You.

 

Morgan Day Cecil is a contributor to Transformed Magazine and is currently working on a guide for single moms on how to create a beautiful life.  She married a man after God’s heart and that man adopted her son. Now the three of them, happy as clams together, are gearing up to welcome the 4th addition to their little family, a baby girl named Emma, due early 2012. They live in Portland, Or. If you want to connect to Morgan, you can find her on Facebook and Twitter. She also spends quiet a bit of time on Pinterest these days.

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an adventure…

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its baby time… | labor pt. two

*I was reminded by my husband that I left a fairly important conversation out of  last week’s post

The first thing out of Harry’s mouth when I told him I thought my water had broken was “What did the doctor say? Should we be leaving for the hospital now?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t called her yet” was my response.

“Why haven’t you called yet? You need to call”

I know. Lol. I found myself hesitant to call in, though. I wanted to be sure that my water was in fact broken before I called. I am not by any means fearful of hospitals or medical situations but I spent my entire pregnancy telling myself that I would not get excited or antsy and go rushing to the hospital right away at the first sign of labor. You would too if you were me and had already had one labor that was twenty-nine hours. Yes, you read that right. Twenty. Nine. Hours.

I didn’t want to spend anymore time than necessary in a hospital bed, hooked up to an i.v. and pretty much forbidden to do anything but lay flat on my back.

No contractions? Suspected but not verified water leaking? To me, that was a “wait a bit and see” type situation. Not so much in Harry’s mind. :) He made me call Dr. Castillo right away who told me once I got her on the phone that I needed to get over to the hospital right away because it was baby time.

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We made it to the hospital in less than 10 minutes, but because weren’t totally prepared for Baby to come so early, we spent another 15 minutes standing in the parking structure wrestling to get the car seat installed.

When we finally made it inside of the hospital Yaya Lupe, Tias Chela & Vicky were there waiting for us. We passed of Kaleb and all his stuff, headed over to the front desk for our badges and made our way to triage.

Less than an hour later, the fact that my water was broken had been confirmed, my cervix was somewhere between two and three centimeters dilated and I was being admitted. A nurse paraded me through the hospital lobby (because the back hall was closed for construction) in my hospital gown, fuzzy purple socks and imitation Toms and took us up to my L&D room.

Then we waited. And waited. And waited.

We sent texts to immediate family to let them know we were there, nothing much was going on and the fact that all I’d had to eat was a donut that I’d scarfed down in the car.

1:00pm passed.

Harry and I did a few circuits around the labor & delivery floor.

3:00pm passed.

I did some stretches and more walking. We were accosted in the hallway by the anesthesiologist about participating in some study should I decide to go ahead with an epidural.

5:00pm passed.

It was time to bust out the lunges and the “Come on cervix. Dilate!” pep talk.

Family came to visit. We laughed and chatted and watched tv and read magazines. All the while, I was trying to keep the fact that my cervix was giving a repeat performance of “I will not be moved” out of my mind.

7:00pm passed.

I was examined and still at 3cm. The pitocin drip was turned on and I was confined to the bed. *sigh*

I’d been very adamant from the beginning of my pregnancy about not receiving pitocin. I’d hemmed and hawwed over the subject of getting an epidural but I knew for sure that any kind of labor augmentation drugs were a big DO-NOT-WANT on my list. Sometimes things don’t go the way you want them and here is where it pays to not be too attached to any one idea about how labor is going to go.

Sometime after 11pm, the pitocin was upped and my contractions were finally going. Baby’s heart rate was great. Mine was on the low side, where it usually is.

Around midnight, the deep breathing and back massages had stopped doing their job and weren’t working anymore…

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this time last week… | labor pt. one

I was in labor.

After my OB’s prediction of labor to come, we spent Friday in a frenzied state of timing contractions, finishing up last minute packing, organizing and making last minute arrangements.

We’d bought everything Baby would need. The carseat was installed. The stroller was standing proudly in our living room, too pretty to fold down and put away. An early morning Saturday appointment that would have taken us two hours away from home and the hospital I was planning on delivering at was rescheduled.

Just in case.

Then nothing happened. My contractions stopped. I tried get my mind off the big nothing that was going on because I still had two weeks until my due date.

Sunday morning, Kaleb and Harry were out on a donut run and I was on the phone with my mom discussing all those wonderful pregnancy and child birth things that you probably don’t know about unless you have already been pregnant and had a child. Things like mucus plugs, the 5-1-1 rule, skin-to-skin, etc.

After a particularly eloquent description of my absolute lack of contractions at the moment and a certain very strange, very annoying, almost-leaking that was my mom laughed.

“I think your water broke.”

No way. I thought broken water equaled gushing. When you hear of someone’s water breaking, you think drama. Frantic, crazy, running around searching for hospital bags and car keys and making hurried phone calls to tell everyone that it was time.

Yeah, not so much. Instead I stood there giggling on the phone. Especially after having spent the last week googlingHow will I know when I am in labor?

“I’m in labor? I’m in labor! Awesome.”

Harry and Kaleb walked in the door a few minutes later with donuts and strawberry milk. While they were pulling out plates, cups and napkins I told Harry about the leaking and the conversation with my mom.

We called the doctor who told us to get to the hospital and check in at triage and then the drama started.

I’d forgotten to finish packing Kaleb’s toy bag. I hadn’t eaten breakfast. I needed to find something to wear because I sure as hell wasn’t going to show up at the hospital in my sweats. We called Harry’s sister to ask her to meet us at the hospital to do the Kaleb hand-off.

Then we were on our way. Quickly, quietly and without much fuss. I sent my mom a text as we got on the freeway.

On way to the hosp. Call you after triage…

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week thirty seven


The clock on this pregnancy has just about come to and end and I couldn’t be happier. I really do enjoy being pregnant but it’s time for this baby to be born. We’ve got lots of people ready to meet him.

I was all smiles (between contractions) at our OB appointment today. Baby is locked and loaded. 3cm dilated, 90% effaced. Woot woot, party time over here! Doctor is saying she doesn’t even think it’ll be a week before we’re heading to the hospital. I’m secretly hoping that we won’t make it past the weekend.

Everything that we can do is done. The bags are packed and waiting by the door. The crib, bouncer, travel system, and everything else have been put together and are patiently waiting for their chance to be used. Time to sit back and twiddle my thumbs. Or maybe finish that baby mobile I’ve been working on all week. ;)

The beard has reached epic proportions. 85 days. And if the due date holds true, 15 days to go. I’m not sure though – I think the beard is coming off sooner than later. :)

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