My midwife recommends I follow the Bradley Diet. It calls for consuming protein, LOTS of protein. Since I'm not a super-big fan of meat she further recommended getting a powdered protein and drinking it once a day.
Suzanne, my happy, though delusional, midwife said to just mix it with a glass of juice each day. That dear man of mine picked up a pack of powdered rice protein about two months ago. I tried it with orange juice.
I choked.
I poured in more orange juice.
My stomach flip-flopped.
I threw in more juice.
My eyes watered. I pushed it across the table. My sweet M tried his valiant best to swallow it also. He soldiered through about 75% of it. It was so awful that I decided to find my way around powdered protein.
Two months later, though, I feel like I need the boost. It's pretty toasty warm here in the middle of the U.S. of A. I was starting to swell ever so slightly. I'm staring down another 3 months of heat, so I decided to brave another try. I picked up a pack of RAW Protein. I tried it with coconut milk this time. (The stuff that Silk makes.)
I choked.
I determined that should I ever have an absorption disorder and require protein daily, I would rather have a g-tube than have that junk slide down my throat. BUT. . . I didn't want to be wasteful.
So I added Hot Cocoa Mix. Then I added Coffee. (organic decaf).
I took a sip.
It was yummy!
Woo hoo! I discovered the secret for making protein palatable! I'm sure the raw folks out there are shaking their heads at how I destroyed the "raw-ness" by heating it up. But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do!
copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
A choice, A view
I had my 20-week prenatal appointment with my midwife (Suzanne) two weeks ago. I'm just now posting about it, though, because apparently all the posts in May needed to start with "why."
The visit was good. I still marvel at the beauty of home visits. I looked at my own urine strip, since I'm not color blind and am blessed to be literate. I heard my son's heart tones. I laughed as the little booger kept dashing away from the doppler. He's already so much fun. I learned that my blood pressure is just as perfect as I expect it to be. We chatted for awhile about a variety of things. Due to pregnancy brain I can recall dreadfully little, these two weeks later.
However, I do remember one particular choice that was given to me: What do you want to do with the placenta? These are my options: Suzanne will dispose of it, we can plant it, or we can eat it. We can eat it as it is, or Suzanne can dry it and place it in capsules for us. Hmm. . . I needed to talk to my man. Since he loves researching absolutely every decision he makes I figured he would want a little bit of time to make up his mind then discuss it with me. Though it is my organ, since I will no longer be attached to it, I am pleased to let him own this aspect of childbirth.
It turns out he didn't need to research anything. He knew immediately what his answer was. And it turns out we will make the same decision that the hospitals of America make for us. But it is so different this time. Because it is our choice. What a delight to have a choice over my own body. I wish I could help other people see that our decision to leave the hospital setting isn't dangerous or wildly radical. It's full of health, wisdom and love. And it's available for others too, not just the crazy few.
Now, something a bit more lighthearted. The view from my front seat:
That's my dear son, holding the coffee cup that he hijacked from me. He did let me have one more sip after taking my mug away. I'm so glad I drink organic decaf. He needs nothing else to hype him up. And, of course, beloved Bear is safely belted into place. I don't remember anything else I saw that day. This view was the most beautiful one.
copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.
The visit was good. I still marvel at the beauty of home visits. I looked at my own urine strip, since I'm not color blind and am blessed to be literate. I heard my son's heart tones. I laughed as the little booger kept dashing away from the doppler. He's already so much fun. I learned that my blood pressure is just as perfect as I expect it to be. We chatted for awhile about a variety of things. Due to pregnancy brain I can recall dreadfully little, these two weeks later.
However, I do remember one particular choice that was given to me: What do you want to do with the placenta? These are my options: Suzanne will dispose of it, we can plant it, or we can eat it. We can eat it as it is, or Suzanne can dry it and place it in capsules for us. Hmm. . . I needed to talk to my man. Since he loves researching absolutely every decision he makes I figured he would want a little bit of time to make up his mind then discuss it with me. Though it is my organ, since I will no longer be attached to it, I am pleased to let him own this aspect of childbirth.
It turns out he didn't need to research anything. He knew immediately what his answer was. And it turns out we will make the same decision that the hospitals of America make for us. But it is so different this time. Because it is our choice. What a delight to have a choice over my own body. I wish I could help other people see that our decision to leave the hospital setting isn't dangerous or wildly radical. It's full of health, wisdom and love. And it's available for others too, not just the crazy few.
Now, something a bit more lighthearted. The view from my front seat:
copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Why I Love Small Town, America
Sitting at the locally owned pharmacy's soda fountain, waiting for our prescriptions to be filled.
I had a slice of homemade peanut butter pie. N had a homemade chocolate chip cookie.
The pharmacists and pharmacy techs know us by name.
Despite walking out with a significantly lighter wallet, my fibers are singing, "Life is grand!"
Jesus knows it's the little things that make my day. I'm pretty sure that's why I'm planted here. He's the real reason life is grand.
copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.
I had a slice of homemade peanut butter pie. N had a homemade chocolate chip cookie.
The pharmacists and pharmacy techs know us by name.
Despite walking out with a significantly lighter wallet, my fibers are singing, "Life is grand!"
Jesus knows it's the little things that make my day. I'm pretty sure that's why I'm planted here. He's the real reason life is grand.
copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Why I'm Using a Midwife
Oh boy, I could write pages and pages on why I'm choosing a midwife. But I'm squeezing this post in before a morning stroll with my sweet son, so I'll try to keep it short. Perhaps I'll expound more later.
If I take my paragraphs of thoughts and condense them down to one sentence, it is this: I'm using a midwife because the philosophy and approach to care of midwives is patient-centered. Now, on the off-chance that a physician reads this and becomes outraged, I would like to clarify a bit. Medical doctors are not evil. This world as a whole, and my life in particular, would be less vibrant without the contributions of doctors. The philosophy of medicine, however, is disease-centered.
Pregnancy is not a disease. Labor and delivery are not disease processes. They are normal functions of health that increase the risk of certain diseases. If I were to develop a disease during my pregnancy I would seek the assistance of a physician. If my labor or delivery lead to an emergency, I will accept care from a doctor. But since I'm not sick, I'm not going to a doctor.
Those are all the rational reasons that make my voice carry a little more weight with those who disagree with me. Now for the raw thoughts that few dissenters respect: my labor and delivery were traumatic. There were many irritations during prenatal care, but let's skip to the fireworks. While I was in labor I received 7 needle sticks to place an unnecessary IV. My already extraordinary pain was increased when I was forced to lie down for a pelvic exam. When it was discovered that I was, in fact, dilated to 10cm like I said I was, people started yelling at me to not push. Once the doctor arrived, the commands changed to "push!" I delivered while lying on my back. My perineum ripped apart. While nurses were putting unnecessary antibiotics in my newborn's eyes the doctor shoved a needle into my vagina. She didn't ask me if I wanted the block. She didn't warn me. She just stabbed.
I don't ever want to go through that again.
Also, midwives have conversations like this.
copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.
If I take my paragraphs of thoughts and condense them down to one sentence, it is this: I'm using a midwife because the philosophy and approach to care of midwives is patient-centered. Now, on the off-chance that a physician reads this and becomes outraged, I would like to clarify a bit. Medical doctors are not evil. This world as a whole, and my life in particular, would be less vibrant without the contributions of doctors. The philosophy of medicine, however, is disease-centered.
Pregnancy is not a disease. Labor and delivery are not disease processes. They are normal functions of health that increase the risk of certain diseases. If I were to develop a disease during my pregnancy I would seek the assistance of a physician. If my labor or delivery lead to an emergency, I will accept care from a doctor. But since I'm not sick, I'm not going to a doctor.
Those are all the rational reasons that make my voice carry a little more weight with those who disagree with me. Now for the raw thoughts that few dissenters respect: my labor and delivery were traumatic. There were many irritations during prenatal care, but let's skip to the fireworks. While I was in labor I received 7 needle sticks to place an unnecessary IV. My already extraordinary pain was increased when I was forced to lie down for a pelvic exam. When it was discovered that I was, in fact, dilated to 10cm like I said I was, people started yelling at me to not push. Once the doctor arrived, the commands changed to "push!" I delivered while lying on my back. My perineum ripped apart. While nurses were putting unnecessary antibiotics in my newborn's eyes the doctor shoved a needle into my vagina. She didn't ask me if I wanted the block. She didn't warn me. She just stabbed.
I don't ever want to go through that again.
Also, midwives have conversations like this.
copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Bigger Baby Bump
I have written about quite a few bumps.
First there was the bump of Catholic Charities placing on the "Waiting List for the Waiting List" in October last year. Then last month there was the summary of two other bumps: the adoption fraud in January and the birthmom deciding to parent in March. It's been a wee bit bumpy. No amount of shock absorbers could have prepared us for this bump, though:
I'M PREGNANT!
Feel free to scream, shout, dance, etc. I personally fell to my knees and started sobbing, thanking God for allowing us to have another baby. I was so shocked that all creativity left my head. I called M and just yelled at him over the phone what you see highlighted above.
Here's some details: I'm 16 weeks pregnant, due October 2nd.
My ultrasound is scheduled for May 16th.
Yes, we will find out gender.
Yes, I will post the info here.
I am using a midwife for my prenatal care and for labor and delivery.
I'm planning on delivering at a birthcenter, but since N came so super duper fast,
we know there is a strong possibility that I'll have a home birth.
By the way, I highly recommend using a midwife who does home deliveries. Ours also does prenatal visits at our home. I haven't had to drive to an office. I haven't sat in a single waiting room. I haven't jumped up on an exam table. I get to listen to my sweet baby's heart beat from the comfort of my own couch. I am sure I will post more about the wonders of delivering with a midwife. The philosophy is so polar opposite medicines, so of course, the approach is going to be also.
If you haven't heard from me in a week, remind me to tell you about urine strips and protein drinks.
By the way, the reason I reference pregnancy as a bigger baby bump than our adoption complications isn't because a biological baby is a bigger deal than an adopted one. It's a bigger bump because I feel huge already. I had worked so hard to lose weight, and now it's flying right back on. Ugh. Oh well, I lost it once, I'll lose it again.
We do still think there is a baby for us to adopt. Now we're just super curious about the when, how, where, etc. Thanks for all your love and support!
copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.
First there was the bump of Catholic Charities placing on the "Waiting List for the Waiting List" in October last year. Then last month there was the summary of two other bumps: the adoption fraud in January and the birthmom deciding to parent in March. It's been a wee bit bumpy. No amount of shock absorbers could have prepared us for this bump, though:
I'M PREGNANT!
Feel free to scream, shout, dance, etc. I personally fell to my knees and started sobbing, thanking God for allowing us to have another baby. I was so shocked that all creativity left my head. I called M and just yelled at him over the phone what you see highlighted above.
Here's some details: I'm 16 weeks pregnant, due October 2nd.
My ultrasound is scheduled for May 16th.
Yes, we will find out gender.
Yes, I will post the info here.
I am using a midwife for my prenatal care and for labor and delivery.
I'm planning on delivering at a birthcenter, but since N came so super duper fast,
we know there is a strong possibility that I'll have a home birth.
By the way, I highly recommend using a midwife who does home deliveries. Ours also does prenatal visits at our home. I haven't had to drive to an office. I haven't sat in a single waiting room. I haven't jumped up on an exam table. I get to listen to my sweet baby's heart beat from the comfort of my own couch. I am sure I will post more about the wonders of delivering with a midwife. The philosophy is so polar opposite medicines, so of course, the approach is going to be also.
If you haven't heard from me in a week, remind me to tell you about urine strips and protein drinks.
By the way, the reason I reference pregnancy as a bigger baby bump than our adoption complications isn't because a biological baby is a bigger deal than an adopted one. It's a bigger bump because I feel huge already. I had worked so hard to lose weight, and now it's flying right back on. Ugh. Oh well, I lost it once, I'll lose it again.
We do still think there is a baby for us to adopt. Now we're just super curious about the when, how, where, etc. Thanks for all your love and support!
copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Why I'm Smiling This Moment. . .
The sound of my son bouncing, jiving, dancing his way through the living room as he "steps in time" with Mary Poppins.
I know this is more a tweet than a blog post. But I don't tweet. So this'll have to do!
copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.
I know this is more a tweet than a blog post. But I don't tweet. So this'll have to do!
copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Another Bump
Our adoption journey continues to be very curious.
From November to January we were presented to four different birth moms. Each chose another family to parent her child.
In January we were presented to a birth mom who chose us to parent her baby girl. We later found out she's a fraud, thief, liar, all-around not-nice person.
In February we were presented to a birth mom who chose us to parent her baby boy. She gave birth to him last Friday. She decided not to place him in our home. She is going to parent him herself.
I don't think all these adoption losses are a coincidence. I'm just a bit curious on what is happening in the heavenlies.
In hind site it seems the loss of the little girl in January may in part have been to help capture a person who was devastating families. She is currently wearing a striped outfit in a small, uncozy room as she waits for her trial.
I have no idea why we lost the little boy last week. I will say that our hearts are filled with peace, though. I think our friends and family are having a harder time understanding why we keep experiencing so much loss.
Now that life has turned out so very differently than I anticipated, I'm looking forward with great expectation. I have no idea what to expect or even hope for.
Through it all, God is good to us. Jesus is both tender and strong enough to guard our hearts.
I'll keep you posted. . .
copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.
From November to January we were presented to four different birth moms. Each chose another family to parent her child.
In January we were presented to a birth mom who chose us to parent her baby girl. We later found out she's a fraud, thief, liar, all-around not-nice person.
In February we were presented to a birth mom who chose us to parent her baby boy. She gave birth to him last Friday. She decided not to place him in our home. She is going to parent him herself.
I don't think all these adoption losses are a coincidence. I'm just a bit curious on what is happening in the heavenlies.
In hind site it seems the loss of the little girl in January may in part have been to help capture a person who was devastating families. She is currently wearing a striped outfit in a small, uncozy room as she waits for her trial.
I have no idea why we lost the little boy last week. I will say that our hearts are filled with peace, though. I think our friends and family are having a harder time understanding why we keep experiencing so much loss.
Now that life has turned out so very differently than I anticipated, I'm looking forward with great expectation. I have no idea what to expect or even hope for.
Through it all, God is good to us. Jesus is both tender and strong enough to guard our hearts.
I'll keep you posted. . .
copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.
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