Anyway, I am sitting at the desk and should be studying my Account 131 book.  But it is beautiful outside and I figured I was due for a break.  Heck, I had been at it for at least 30 minutes.  About outside.  Well, it is snowing.  Lots.  Well, not Minnesota lots, but definitely Seattle lots.  Heck, I just saw some neighbors snowshoeing on the sidewalk out in front of the house.

The snow is beautiful and relaxing.

(If you are asking why I am studying Account 131, then we haven’t been in touch recently because lots has changed in the Haggard House.  I will try and post about that at a later date.  Today, I just intended on this short love note.)

That is all I have, but not to be outdone in the blogging world, here is a picture of what I am looking at.

Enjoy,

Jason

So when I woke up on New Year’s Day in a bad mood, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised.  I couldn’t shake some deep-seated discontentedness.  I know this; it usually leads me to anxiety which leads me to a frantic sense of urgency that tempts me to reorganize my house or go out and buy a new wardrobe.

On New Year’s I asked myself “What have I been doing all year?”  I wasn’t really sure.  I think all I saw was a pile of dirty laundry and some scraps of food on the floor.  Apparently not much, I told myself.

And then I let the self-pity come in.  It feels good in the moment.  It makes me feel like I deserve a lot of things.  But I know it will only result in me feeling lonely and it steals from me any reasonable perspective I have on my own life (and I need all the help I can get in the reality department!).

I’d like to say that at that point I ran to God because I knew that wasn’t where He wanted me.  And I suppose that was part of it.  But I mainly ran to Him because I didn’t want to lay down in bed that night and feel like crap because I had fed my flesh and then let it pour out on my husband and kids in some nasty ways.  I’ve been there before.

So I started journaling.  And you know what? I started thinking of a lot of things that did happen in 2011.  And in the end, I am quite pleased with the list.

1. I grew a little girl inside my body and I gave birth to her (and she is wonderful!)
2. I think learning how to obey finally started to click.
3. I went to Hawaii and came back feeling refreshed (I promise I will share more about that soon).
4. I was drawn into deeper friendship with another gal.
5. After over three years of wondering what Jason will do next in his career, God gave us clear direction and has opened some incredible doors for us to walk through in 2012.
6. I wrote from my heart.
7. I took a few good pictures.
8. I ate some delicious food.
9. I ran a 10k with a smile on my face.
10. I nursed my babe for going on seven months.
11. I weeped with a friend who weeped.
12. I spent some really productive, life-changing time in counseling.
13. I tried out a new haircut (even if I ended up going back to my old one).

I know the list seems kinda random, but it was what the Spirit put upon my heart in just a few minutes.

That was going to be the end of my post, but then this morning I had another revelation.

At the time I was cleaning up poop.  There’s been diarrhea among us (I know, TMI) and so there I was standing over the sink scrubbing ickies out of pajamas and underwear.

At first I was annoyed and thought to myself, “Seriously, this is what I’m doing right now?!”

But then I heard God say, “This is your Kingdom work.”

It made me realize that what I’m doing is important.  This is big for me because I tend to feel like I’m not doing a whole lot for God, or that what I’m doing doesn’t count or isn’t good enough.

But God says I’m doing Kingdom work today and since today is not unlike many other days I’ve had in the last year, I can say 2011 was a very productive and important year!

So I barely rode my bike this year.  So my house is a mess and I wish I had more money.  So I’m still wondering whose body I’m living in (cause it’s not the same one I had a year ago!).  So we’re only now just getting out of survival mode.

So what?  I’m doing Kingdom work!

Jason has, of course, befriended someone.  He’s an older gentlemen and they are swapping military stories.   Ian is taking advantage of all the racing spaces in this empty place for his cars and trains.  And Imogen is sleeping in the stroller (yes!).

And, as you can tell, I am taking advantage of the free wi-fi.

But back to the trip at hand.  As many of you know we’ve been anticipating it for a year now.  Which means I’ve had A LOT of time to imagine it.  Sometimes it is a pleasant dream.  And sometimes it’s a total nightmare.

But recently I have made some personal revelations, which I’d like to share.  This mainly for my own sake.  So, here goes.

This trip is NOT about:

• Me FINALLY getting the vacation I deserve.  This is a lie.  Repeat, THIS IS A LIE.
• Me (or my family) remaining rested and healthy.  If both of these things happen that will be wonderful, but I’m not going to hold my breath.  We are going to roll with the punches (figuratively speaking.  I really hope no one is punching anyone during this trip).
• Me looking all tan and svelte on the beach.  Thankfully, I’ve got two cute kids to show for the battle scars my body has accrued over the last few years, so I’ve decided I’m okay with how I look.  Plus, my husband still thinks I’m hot.
• ME, ME, ME (you can see a theme developing here).

This trip IS about:

• God’s pure generosity.
• Connecting with my husband.  A few days ago we decided that most mornings we’re going to try to get up and walk the beach together (thanks in advance, Mom, for the childcare).
• Playing and exploring with my kids.  They will get to do big things like ride in an airplane, build sand castles, and stand in awe of the ocean.  What a privilege to get to be there with them!
• Supporting and encouraging our friends, the Franci, who really need love right now.
• Christmas!  I am trying not to forget this, even though we’re not at home this year.

Wish us luck.  Or rather, may the grace of God (and the prayers of many kind friends) be with us!

I love this photo.  It encapsulates perfectly Ian’s third year of life.  In motion, leaping headlong into each day, into his life.

And what has life been like for him this past year?  Well, a lot of fun, but also a lot of new lessons to learn and some big changes.

The first learning leap was in the vocabulary department. It’s amazing to think that just a year ago he only said a handful of words.  In January his language skills took off and now he’s a major gabber. Sometimes it’s hard to get him to stop. But it makes perfect sense that he can talk an ear off because he’s a Haggard!  I was just waiting for the day that genetic predisposition would show itself.

What does he talk about?  Well, a lot of things.  But my favorite memories have been when I lay down and snuggle with him before bed and we chat it up.  He puts his hands behind his head and says “Let’s talk about (fill in his topic of choice–Mater, McQueen, Thomas, etc).”  Then he goes on and I listen.  He’s also been known to ask “So what was your favorite part of your day?”  What a considerate kiddo! (His wife will love that.)

He’s also back in “school”–as in BSF.  He’s got a fondness for his teacher Miss Stacie and looks forward to seeing her on Tuesdays.  He’s pretty good about telling me things he’s learned in his class (“Paul saw a flashing light!” and “We ate juice and goldfish.”).  Just the other day he recited the entire Pledge of Allegiance to me.   It’s a little strange to hear him talking about things he didn’t hear from me or Jason, but I am glad he loves the classroom so much.

Other things Ian has learned in his third year?  Well, he’s getting pretty quick on his bike, he’s an expert camper, he builds a mean train track, and he knows how to dig a dirt hole (a favorite summer past time).  He also knows how to pull up my tomato plants.

On a more positive note, Ian has learned how to give very genuine complements to his Momma.  At least a few times a week when we sit down to dinner he says “This dinner look AMAZING!” (a very common Jason-ism). And whenever I get dressed up or put makeup on Ian tells me I look pretty or that he likes my dress. Even the other day, out of nowhere, he put his arms around my neck and told me I was beautiful over and over again.

He sounds saintly doesn’t he?  But he’s still been a two-year-old the last year.  And we have definitely had our fair share of disciplinary moments.  He has difficulty at times expressing and verbalizing his feelings in an appropriate way (don’t we all).  A child after both Jason and I’s hearts, his typical default emotion is anger.  So, we are all learning in this process.

I will say it’s hard to teach your kid the intangible, fruits-of-the-Spirit sort of things you yourself feel so amateur at (and sometimes even incapable of).  I could go on and on about how many lessons I’m learning as Ian’s mom right now, but that would be a huge digression.

So, back to the birthday boy.

In May he went from his toddler bed to a twin bed.  This transition was pretty easy. As I write this he’s snuggled up under his camo blankie, Grandma blanket, and Mama blanket with his kitty cat, bear bears, puppy dog, lamby, and bat. It’s a full house.  I can hear him talking and it sounds like some kind of Aboriginal language.  They all must be having some kind of tribal pow wow up there.

The next two life changes for Ian were the biggest he’s had yet. I’m talking about Change with a capital C.  It’s what we as adults talk about when we talk about change.  And we generally agree we don’t like it, even though we know it’s good for us, because it’s hard.

Well, Ian’s Changes this year were potty training and getting a new baby sister.

As Ian’s mother, I can go on the record as saying that Ian’s not really all that into Change.  But, as with the rest of the human race, he’s trying to go with it and adjust.

His (our) potty training experience can be best described by saying “It was the best of times and the worst of times.”  There have been smiles and excitement and dances of joy.  There have been many gummies consumed and DVDs watched.

Yet for our bathroom being such a small room, it’s amazing how much tension you can fit into it.  I swear there have been times you could cut it with a knife.  There have been marital disagreements (fights) over the potty, and tears (mine) cried.

I also have to interject to say I am still amazed at the places pee can hide around a toilet. Places I never knew existed.

As Ian turns three, I see him making a mental and emotional switch, completely of his own volition.  He’s not completely trained, but he has taken more ownership and pride in his potty accomplishments.  He’s doing it because he wants to, not because we want him to.  He is embracing Change (okay, I’ll stop capitalizing it now).

Lastly, there is what we all knew was coming for nine months–the sibling.  For Ian, taking on his role as a big brother has been a mixture of things: anticipation, excitement, pride, tenderness, jealousy, irritation, desperation, mischievousness.  One moment he’s being too rough, the next he’s practicing gentleness perfectly.  He gives his sister the evil eye and calls her a “Bad Guy!” and then make a silly face so she’ll give him a belly laugh (which she happily does).

I’m not sure what else to say about this except that as an only child it’s all new to me.  I’m curious to see how Ian’s relationship with Imogen grows.  Ian’s been waiting patiently for the days when Imogen can play ball or cars or trains with him.  And I have been, too.  I look forward to the day he puts his arm around her and leads her off into some adventure.

I love my son.  He is a joy of joys.  This year has not been easy for any of us, but Ian has made it through all the lessons and all the change.  Thanks be to God and good work, Ian!

Here’s a quick photo recap of the year.

Just now I hear Ian hiding at the top of the stairs saying in his whiny voice “Mommy, I want you to come snuggle with me because I love you.”

You melt my heart, Ian bo bee-an.

Today is Jason & I’s four-year anniversary.  If only we looked as young and spritely as we did in this photo.

But the good news is that I think we are happier together than we were the day we got married.  I will take that over no wrinkles and sags.

Some of my favorite moments/observations from the last year include:

• Laying in bed at night talking about what we think will happen in the next episode of Downton Abbey
• All the amazing things Jason made: french silk pie, ice cream galore, oreo cheesecake with a chocolate drizzle, grilled pizza, etc.
• When Jason asked me if I got tired of hearing him call me “Beautiful.”  I was like, UM NO!
• How most every weekday at the dinner table he asks me “So, what did you do today?” I tell him everything we did from when we woke up until he came home and he’s always sincerely interested.
• Our overnight getaway in downtown Seattle
• When Jason popped up in bed with a smile on his face when I told him my water had broken.
• My orange Crush
• My husband likes do to dishes and clean the kitchen; he finds it relaxing.  I can handle that.  In fact, I can thank God for that.
• In turn, Jason doesn’t care if the rest of the house is dirty, so I need to let it go and put it down farther on the priority list.
• We’re fighting less (and when we fight we fight more fairly), even though this season leaves us more tired and worn out that we’ve ever been.
• I’m able to finally recognize that some of my habits border on ridiculous and superfluous.
• When we sat down and Jason told me all about his day on Oahu.
• Putting the kids down, cooking dinner, and watching the PBS National Parks series (it took us over a year to finish all six discs).
• After many long discussions, we’ve settled on the fact that we have very different expectations for vacation.  I hope all these talks bode well in our planning of our first big trip since our honeymoon.
• When, at the dinner table, I was about to shred cheese over his salad and Jason said “I like my cheese shredded long.”  I rolled my eyes because if Jason obsesses about anything, it’s food.
• The many times he’s told me I’m a good mom when I feel like a crappy mom.
• How Jason raves about my bread making skills not because I make bread better than he does but because he knows I’m so proud of myself that I can actually make it.
• Our attempts to garden together again yet another year, though I wish we had been more successful.
• We have to have date nights out and reconnect over food (and not food we’ve cooked).  It’s not optional.  We learned this when we tried to go without while saving up for Hawaii.

The serious side of Jason

Last Sunday was Imogen’s three-month birthday.  I have really enjoyed being mom to this darling little girl.

For the sake of actually getting this blog finished, here’s some bulleted facts about her:

• She’s had many visitors, including all her grandparents in the first month of her life.  That was thousands of airline miles folks–just because she’s so cute and special.
• She loves talking with people.  I’m wondering if it’s a girl thing.  In those moments when I can sit down and give her my full attention or when I’m changing her diaper, I’ll talk to her and she’ll coo back a response.  We’ll go back and forth like that until I must move on to helping her brother or keeping the house from crumbling down.
• She’s starting to develop some people preference.  When we visited Grandma’s and I would go out for a bike ride or to run an errand I would come home and she’d be inconsolable.  Sometimes it would happen if I was only leaving the room.  Once I fed her she would calm down.  So maybe she just has a boob preference.
• She’s sleeping pretty well–anywhere from a four to eight-hour chunk a night, and then in two to three-hour chunks following.  Oh how I wish I could sleep with her until 9am, which is her final morning wakeup time.  But alas, Ian gets on with his day sooner (there are trains and cars to play with people!)
• She’s a great nurser, which I am very thankful for.  But, I think for that reason she’s forgotten how to take a bottle or pacifier.  But we’re getting there.
• She goes with the flow.  I don’t know if this is her personality or being the second child or both.  Sometimes I forget about her, but she’s usually sitting quietly just taking in all the action.
• She looks like Jason.  She’s got brown eyes and his darker skin tone. At the same time, I think she has a very feminine look about her.
• She’s growing more and more comfortable sleeping in her crib for naps and doesn’t do so well napping when we are out and about. I am learning to be more cognizant of this and not keeping our schedule as busy as it has been.
• We’ve had some interesting health scares (I know using the word “scare” is an exaggeration, but they’ve felt like scares to me).  First we recognized that one of her eyes dilates larger than the other. Turns out this is odd, but not something to be concerned about. Second, she had some really weird poops and pees that I still don’t know what to do with.  Third, her head has become rather misshapen.  She’s started cranial sacral therapy and the doctor things it won’t take long for it to round out.
• She is doing really well with her brother.  She even gives him smiles as he lovingly clobbers her and gives her kisses.

• Camping trip.  She did amazingly well, observing or sleeping through much of the noise and activity.  With this trip, she visited the ocean (well, the Sound) for the first time.
• Long car ride and trip to Grandma’s. I think we only had one crying spell in the combined 12 hours of travel time (not including Ian). And she tolerated the times we three had to cram into a bathroom stall so Ian and I could go potty.
• First dip in the lake.  It was just her feet, but she did NOT like it.  Just to make sure, Jason dipped her feet in again (which I thought was a little mean on his part!)
• First summer.  Obviously, with all that lake and ocean exposure!  But really, we have had some summer around here lately and she’s been able to enjoy it.
• First ride on a park swing.
• I’m sure there are more firsts, but I can’t remember them because I’m tired.

• That I’m not as uptight about things as I was when Ian was this age. Improvement!
• That I need to stop what I’m doing and give Imogen snuggles and listen to her chats because I won’t get this time back.
• That she will turn out great even if I forget about her sometimes because I know a lot of people who are second children and they are way more than okay.  
• That I want to make an effort to pass certain things down to Imogen–things like jewelry, recipes, and fashion sense (what little I have left).  I know there are much bigger and non-materialistic things I can give her, and I certainly hope to, but these are what I’ve been thinking about lately.
• To take my worries about her health to God.  This seems to be a running theme, ever since the first trimester of the pregnancy.  I’m getting better at it, at least I think.  I’ve learned not to Google weird symptoms right after I notice them OR if I’m really, really tired.  So instead I call Jason just so I can tell someone and then I pray. On a related note, I am more and more thankful for all the health care we have received. I’m also grateful for the many nurses and doctors I know who are smart, loving, and have listened to my concerns.

And now, of course, pictures of a growing Imogen, because they are worth more than any of my words.

1st month

2nd month

3rd month

As with having a newborn, we are tired.  Imogen’s sleep has been getting progressively better, but it has been hard to be so exhausted.  The sleep I have been getting hasn’t felt very restful and its been in shorter chunks.

At around week five or six I had a very vivid dream, in one of the fitful pockets of sleep I did get.  I realized thinking back on it, how telling it is about where we’re at right now.

Ian, Imogen and I were in a speedboat.  I was sitting in the driver’s seat. Ian was right behind me, and Imogen was laying down in a seat at the back.  We were playing and having fun.  Then I turned around to look out the front and realized we were going really fast.  There were lots of boats, big and small, around us. The water was choppy.  I grabbed hold of the steering wheel so we didn’t get in an accident.  I could steer, but the boat still felt like it had a mind of its own.

After a few minutes of this I realized I had forgotten about the kids. My heart jumped up into my throat because (this is a dream, mind you) I remembered that half the boat was gone.  It had been cut lengthwise and what was left was the driver’s side, front and back.  I was terrified that with all the bumps and speed Imogen had fallen out and into the water because she couldn’t hold on.

I turned around and both kids were still there.  I breathed a sigh of relief, slowed the boat down, and drove over to the side of the lake to stop and make sure they were okay.

That was the end of the dream.

I think it really is the perfect metaphor for life in the Haggard Haus right now. I’m just trying to keep our kids strapped in.  And alive. And not too traumatized by the ride.

The first few days after all our family left and Jason had gone back to work were particularly hard.  I was tired.  Ian was getting a lot less attention.  Imogen was having crying spells in the mornings.  I remember feeling anxious in the evenings, anticipating the next day’s trials.

Thankfully, I don’t feel all that anxious about it anymore.  But there’s still a learning curve, a forging ahead into whatever the new normal is in our house. When I figure out what that looks like, I will let everyone know (if you’re interested).

There have been quite a few tears–Ian’s, Imogen’s, mine.  I’ve been angry and annoyed.  I’ve felt so exhausted that I could park myself anywhere (the bathroom floor, next to the dishwasher, in a pile of dirty laundry) and pass out. Yet I’ve also felt the frustration of insomnia, when, in the middle of the night, everyone is sleeping, EXCEPT ME.

I think one of the lowest points happened when Ian, Imogen, and I were out on a walk last week.  This was on Day 3 of Jason’s trip to Hawaii.  You can imagine, for this reason, that we were all tired, and tired of each other.

But, we had gotten out of the house.  That’s one big step in the right direction. We were going to do our route–stop at the blueberries, then walk to the park and see the progress they are making on the new playground, and then walk home.

Between the blueberries and the playground Ian told me that he wanted to leave Imogen on the side of the road.  I tried to explain to him that we would miss her so much, we couldn’t do that.  I don’t think he was really listening to me.

About a block up from that conversation Ian sat down on the strip of grass between the sidewalk and the road and said “Leave me here.” At first I thought maybe he was just being silly.  But he insisted.

I said to him, “What if a scary person comes and takes you?  I don’t want that, I would miss you so much.”

“I want them to take me. Leave me here!”

I realized right then that he felt ignored.  Un-special. Frustrated with his lot in life.

Yeah, as a mother, that was a pretty low moment. I didn’t cry about it then (one of us needed to keep it together), but I definitely have since.

I’ve had a time or two (or more) myself in the last few weeks where I would’ve loved to plop down somewhere and announced to the world that I am checking out.

In fact, my mind has taken me to all the places I want to go and things I want to do when my kids are grown up and off on their own.  It’s also taken me to blog posts I want to write, how blissful our Hawaii vacation will be, all the reasons why I am worthy of being pitied, and what I’m going to do when Jason gets home from work and I get some “relief.”

Those are my side-of-the-road, low moments.

I’ve also felt overwhelmed by how impossible it seems to be a good mom to each of my kids.  Sometimes it feels like Imogen spends her entire life sitting in the swing in the middle of our living room, watching the world go by.  In fact, I’m convinced the back of her head is misshapen for this reason.

And I don’t know how many times I have heard Ian say “Play with me!” His tone gets more desperate the more his request is put off.

And then, after all that, be a good wife?  Cause you know, I do have a husband, as well.  And he’s a human being, so he has needs, too.

It just feels overwhelmingly impossible.  I tell myself that God made it possible to get married and procreate, so it’s got to work out somehow.  My only explanation is that something supernatural has got to be going on for it to be achievable. And grace.  I need grace.

I know I sound doomsday and let me tell you, it has been doomsday around here more than any of us would like.  But, because of this I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about why I’m sticking it out.  Why it matters to me so much that we not only survive, but thrive.  And God has reminded me of this:

I get to be a mom.  And I get to be married to Jason.

When I think about it, these are two pretty great things.  And the more I’ve thought about it, the more God affirms to me that this is the right place for me. I have never felt more dedicated to these roles.  And I don’t think I’ve ever loved my family so much.

Ironically, one of my greatest highs happened only a few minutes after Ian’s sidewalk meltdown. We stopped at the convenience store across from the park and Ian picked out a popsicle.  We have never done this before.  He thought it was the best thing in the world.

We walked home from there and all along the way Ian kept offering me licks from his popsicle.  I told him it really made me glad to see him wanting to share with me.  I said, “You know, I think God is really working in your heart.”

And he said, “Yeah, Mommy, Jesus really is working in my heart.”

And this comes from the child who lately has refused to pray and disagrees with me when I tell him God loves him.  In fact, he disagrees with me about pretty much everything right now.

But there you have it.  From out of the mouths of babes.

In all my worrying, the kid just needed me to joyfully purchase him a popsicle and talk to him all the way home.

The other high I had was that evening.  I was checking in with Jason via phone before I went to bed. He had spent the day driving around Oahu since Jordan was busy with appointments with his mom. He had a large chunk of time to explore, to think, to relax.

“Did you have a good day?” I said.

He said, “Yeah, I really did.  And I really look forward to telling you all about it when I get home.”

I can’t recreate with my words the tone with which he said this.  All I can say is that he sounded alive. And I haven’t heard that coming from inside him in a long time. It put a smile on my face and joy in my heart.

Yes, I think we’re all going to be okay.  I think  God is taking care of us.  We’re certainly getting a lot of His love and grace.

And it doesn’t hurt that my kids are so stinkin’ cute.

More photos.

I hope it hasn’t been too long since Imogen’s birth for me to share the story.  I’ve actually had the majority of it written for over a month, I just haven’t had the time to wrap it up with a thoughtful conclusion.  So, here goes.

_______________

On Friday, June 10th, we were one week out from our due date.  My plan was to clean the house that day, as I usually do on Fridays.  Planning on having a home birth made it feel a bit more urgent than usual.   So, I set out to get the floors and the bathroom clean, if that was the only two things I accomplished that day.

Ian is usually great about occupying himself on chores day.  But on this particular Friday he was constantly wanting my attention and letting me know so in some not-so-positive ways.  That coupled with some major potty training regression made me feel increasingly discouraged as the day went on.

Unfortunately, Ian met with my irritability and frustration. I had no idea what to do about potty training, which we’ve been working on for months.  By the time the morning passed and it was a nap time, I was so worked up I couldn’t sleep (something I really needed).

All these things being said, by 2pm I had called Jason in tears asking him to come home.

I will say, though, that there were some really sweet moments between Ian & I, amidst the tension and turmoil. Because he wanted my attention so much I spent more time with him than I normally would on cleaning day.  I sensed we both needed that time.  We had fun making up a rescue helicopter game, reading books, and just talking.

Looking back, I see these moments were God’s grace to both of us.  The days of just me and him were quickly coming to an end (though I didn’t realize how quickly!).

Jason wasn’t able to get off work early.  When he did get home we put Ian to bed and then I ran to the store and picked up some food (this was the kind of day when I did not feel guilty for splurging on pre-prepared food from Trader Joe’s).

After dinner Jason & I talked about the potty training situation.  And I got all worked up again.  I felt angry because I felt out of control and Jason, understandably, didn’t know how to solve the problem.

You can imagine this didn’t make for an evening of marital bliss and connectedness.  The subject of potty training usually doesn’t evoke these sort of feelings between two people, especially if one of them is an angry, pregnant lady.

Sadly, of my own doing, I ended up on the bathroom rug bawling my eyes out, with Jason wondering what the heck was going on with me.

In the middle of all the tears, even I could see that my response was a bit over the top.  This feels hormonal, I thought.  Once the tears passed I remembered I felt similar on the day I went into labor with Ian–super emotional. And I wondered if I would go into labor that night.  Turns out the hormones that make a woman feel crazy are also the hormones that make babies come out.

By 10pm I felt relatively at peace about life.  Jason and I went to bed. At 12am I woke up and had to pee really bad.  When I sat down and started going I felt a pop and a gush.

Whoa, I thought.   Is this really happening? That definitely felt like my water breaking!

I went in and woke Jason up to tell him.  He sat right up in bed, even though he had been in a sound sleep and said “Really? That’s so great!”  That made me feel good, especially since it was a bit overwhelming to think this was happening now and not in a week or two.

I called Cindie, our midwife, to tell her what happened.  She said it certainly could’ve been my water breaking, but that it also may be a false alarm.  Sometimes the bladder of a pregnant lady can fool her.  (Yet the pop I felt did not feel like anything my bladder has ever done before.)

Cindie instructed us to wait it out and call her if I started labor and my contractions were five to six minutes apart.  I also called Eliza, our doula, to tell her the news, and that we may need her that night.

Jason encouraged me to go back to sleep, but I wanted to get up and show him where all the birth supplies were since we hadn’t done that. Jason also cleaned the bathroom since I hadn’t gotten around to it earlier that day.

It wasn’t long before I felt some very faint cramping, which is exactly what I had felt with Ian.  By 1am I was definitely having contractions.  We decided that Jason would take Ian over to Scott & Courtney’s.  I wanted to make sure he was safe and comfortable elsewhere in case labor got going quickly.

Once Ian and Jason were gone, I dealt with contractions by myself for the next hour or so. I remember standing around the bathroom, still feeling a bit overwhelmed.  I had Isaiah 12 stuck to the bathroom mirror and so I read and prayed through that for a few minutes.  I reminded myself I didn’t need to be afraid of what lay ahead.

By the time Jason arrived home my contractions were about seven to eight minutes apart. I felt pretty good.  Jason came up to the bathroom with a really encouraging surprise–a handful of GUs.  These helped me get through transition and pushing with Ian.  I had been asking Jason to buy some in anticipation of the coming labor, but he hadn’t gotten a chance to.

When Jason was at Scott & Courtney’s he had asked Scott if he would go pick up some GUs in the morning if I was still laboring.  Turns out Scott had just bought a bunch that day at REI and he sent Jason home with them.  This little provision from Jason, from our friend, from God, made me feel relieved and more prepared.

It wasn’t long after Jason and the GUs arrived that my contractions jumped to three to four minutes apart. I was still able to manage them on my own, but Jason called Cindie and Eliza to head over.

Eliza got to our house first and went to work helping me get through contractions.  It took me a while to find a comfortable position to labor in.  I mainly stood leaning over the dresser and swaying back and forth, but found my legs would get tired. I tried leaning over the exercise ball and hanging over the couch, but couldn’t find a position that felt just right.

I think part of this was because the labor pain was centered around my tail bone, not farther up my back as it was with Ian.  Standing up and leaning seemed to relieve it some.  I will say it wasn’t really more painful than my previous labor and so at the time I didn’t consider it back labor, which I’ve been told can be excruciating.

Cindie arrived and she came with her precepting student, Louise.  Louise had been a part of my last two appointments but I didn’t realize she was going to be at the birth.  Cindie also told me that Jen or Mel (the other midwives in her practice) were not going to be there to assist her.  She had called another midwife named Erin to come help.

As I labored I remember telling Eliza that I felt a little self-conscious with two new people around.  I was wondering if I would be able to let loose when I needed to, which is really essential to working through contractions.  She listened to me, and I think just being able to voice how I was feeling was enough for me. I don’t remember worrying about it much after that.

At one point I ended up down in the kitchen with Eliza while everyone else was upstairs.  I was leaning on the kitchen counter.  As things got more intense Eliza was rubbing my lower back. I asked for Jason and he came up right next to me.

Eliza asked if she could pray for me and went ahead.  Then I asked Jason to pray for me, too.  I don’t remember what he said, but afterward I said to him, “I always think I can’t do things and you tell me I can.”  I don’t remember how he responded, but it made me feel like I could do it.

A few minutes later Cindie came around for a particularly difficult contraction and once it was over I said to her “I hope this is the transition!”  She said she thought it probably was.  She suggested I head back upstairs.

On our way up I had a contraction in the middle of the stairway, so I got down on my hands and knees.  I found it to actually be quite comfortable.  As the pain faded away I said to Eliza, “Now every time I walk up these stairs and get to this spot I will think of this.”  She laughed.

Next I made my way into the bathroom and rested over the covered toilet for a while, which allowed me to sway back and forth, but at least rest my lower legs for a bit.

Around 5am Cindie asked to check me.  It was encouraging to hear her say I was at 9cm.  That definitely was the transition I had been feeling!  Cindie suggested I head to the bed since she thought I would be pushing soon.

That word–pushing–was a bit of a bit of a loaded word for me with this pregnancy.  I pushed for almost four hours with Ian and it was the most physically strenuous thing I’ve ever done.  Needless to say, I had been feeling hesitant about how it was going to go this time.

I wanted to make sure I expressed this to Cindie before labor, partly to get it off my chest and partly to see if she could offer some insight or encouragement.

At my last appointment before labor, just a day earlier, I had told her and Louise that I just didn’t feel very strong for the job.  They both reminded me that my uterus would do the work.  Cindie said she wasn’t worried, that I would do just fine. She has a way of saying things very confidently and definitively (plus, she knows what she’s talking about) so I left her office feeling better.

So now there I was, early that morning, heading to bed to “let my uterus do the work” (which, technically speaking, it was already doing a lot of work, but you know what I mean).  I am thankful that in labor you don’t have a lot of mental space to think about anything, so I didn’t feel any hesitancy.  That is God’s grace for an over-thinker like me.

I laid on my side in bed for a few minutes and then felt my uterus bearing down. This is what Cindie and Louise were talking about!  I felt the urge to push with Ian but this was more distinct and powerful than I had felt with him.

Jason was kneeling right next to me on the side of the bed, just as he was when I pushed with Ian.  I had my arms wrapped around him.  The more the contractions came, the more I went with them and pushed.  I was squeezing Jason really hard. At one point I beat on his back with my fist.  His face was right by mine and he kept encouraging me, telling me I could do it.

As the pushing grew more intense, I remember thinking “this is going to produce something good.” I could actually feel the baby moving down (again, not something I remember feeling with Ian).

But, it was also a helluva lotta work. As some time passed I started to wonder if I could do it. If this went on and on, I didn’t know if I could keep going with it (but really, what was I thinking?! This was nothing compared to four hours of pushing).

As the thoughts crowded in, something that Cindie said to me about a month ago came to mind.  She was praying for me at the end of one of my appointments and she prayed “Blessings from God can also be tests.”

At the time I had expressed to her how I was realizing that with a new baby coming I would have to let go of Ian more and more.  I was scared and I wasn’t sure God was going to take care of Him.  I knew I wouldn’t be by Ian’s side like I have been his whole life.

Back then Cindie reminded me that the wonderful, good things God gives us can also be used to help us grow in our trust of Him.  My family has certainly been this to me.  Likewise, as I pushed during labor, with every contraction, I felt tested, in a good way.

Yet I was also was being carried along with it, just as Cindie and Louise had said it would be.  There was a big part of it that was out of my control–my body was just doing it.

It’s funny how the hard things in life feel so much like work, and yet, we can also feel (either at the time or looking back) that God was doing the really hard stuff and we were being carried along.

At one point I remember saying “I can’t do this.”  And all the women in the room just got louder and said “Oh yes you can, you are doing it!”  And then a few minutes later, as a pushing urge came I said “I can do this!”  It felt good to hear myself say it.

As Ian approached his birth, he crowned for what seemed like forever.  I was thinking back on that and so in between my contractions I tried to feel the baby’s head.  I figured if I could feel it, she would be coming out soon.   It must be there, I thought. But I couldn’t feel anything.

I was confused.  Everyone in the room kept telling me I was making huge progress.  The impression I got from them was that this baby would be out into the world soon.

At that point Jason said, “I love you, Beautiful, but I’ve got to go.  I’m going to throw up.”  He ran out of the room and Cindie slid in where he was.  She let me hold on her to and as that contraction passed she said “You could have this baby in five minutes.”  I wasn’t really sure myself.

But, Cindie was right. Jason came back (sticking his head out the window had been enough to make the nausea pass) and just a few minutes later and I gave a good hard push, which brought the baby’s head out.  And then another push and her body was out. The time was 5:40am.

And then that moment came that I will never forget.  They set her down on me and I saw her for the first time.  She was petite and pink, with dark eyes.  She looked so different than Ian did fresh out of the womb.  He was a blue-ish gray, with the face of a wrinkled old man.  He was so quiet, this little girl was crying.

I was given a shot of pitocin right away and thankful no hemorrhaging occurred. It wasn’t long before they cut the cord and the placenta came out.

A few minutes later Jason said “Well, do you want to share what her name is?” Strangely, I said no.  I think I wanted to keep the secret a little bit longer. I loved having that just between us.  We had known what her name would be since the day we found out we were having a girl and Jason had said “Well, should we name her Imogen?”

And now you all know, of course.  But Jason had to ask me again a few minutes later if we could share, and I said yes.

When I was finally ready to get into the bath, Louise stayed with me and we chatted. I could hear Jason gabbing away to someone downstairs.  Turns out he was skyping with Jordan & Elysia.  At the time I felt a little annoyed because I wanted to share these special moments with him, but now I look back and realize he was just so excited and proud and wanted to share the joy with good friends, with the world.

Once I got cleaned up and back into bed it was time to try breastfeeding and to eat.  The labor support team cleaned up around us, did the newborn exam, and left us tucked into bed.

And then I found myself back at that same place again that I had been two and a half years ago.  The house was quiet, I was wide awake, and I had a new baby and a husband lying next to me.  I had just accomplished this amazing feat, while at the same time, experienced a miracle.

I actually had many of those moments in the weeks following Imogen’s arrival.  I would be laying in bed, trying to sleep, and would think back on how awesome (and I am using that word how it was originally intended to be used) it was bring Imogen into the world.

She was the one we thought we were going to lose.  She was the gummy bear on the screen that had a heartbeat.  She was the one who survived with me through the crummy flu and stomach flu.  She was the one who kicked me in the middle of the night and made it hard for Ian to sit on my lap.

I have been very, very blessed by God.  Honestly, it’s a little scary to say that.  But it’s true.  Imogen’s birth was a great experience.  And Imogen, herself, is perfect. She’s our Imy, Imsy Bimsy, our Gooby Girl.

I’ve also been blessed to have great care during both my pregnancies by women who love women, families, and God.  I know that is unfortunately not the norm for many, so I am thankful for that.

I’m also blessed to have a husband who has been there for me; not just through the labor and birth (though he was wonderful then) but also through our miscarriages, the scary bleeding, and the woes of a tiresome, sick pregnancy.  He is a great dad to our kids and I’m glad I get to parent with him.  I love seeing him get up close to Imogen’s face and sweetly say “Hey girl.”

Thank you, also, to our family and community who have prayed for us through this and many other things.

If you enjoy reading about labor and birth and you’re a story person like me, you may like reading the birth stories in this book.  Also, with this pregnancy I really appreciated what two other ladies, Brenna and Sarah, have to say about it.

And of course I’ll leave you with the fruits of my labor (literally).

Seeing as how I don’t have a lot of free time on my hands at the moment, many of the posts will remain picture-less until I can go back and re-post them.  But, you can view our photos on Flickr by clicking on the sidebar on the right.

Here’s a funny/cute photo to tide everyone over

And here are a few more pictures of Imogen and her fan club.

She was born June 11, 2011, at 5:40am.  She weighed in at 7 lbs 2 oz and is 19.5 inches long.

Imogen is an English name and is pronounced Im-a-jen.  It means “maiden” or “innocent”.  Annabelle is German and means “beautiful” or “favored by God.”

Everyone so far who has heard the name Imogen (except Elysia, my fellow English Lit major) has said, “So how do you spell that?”  We imagine, for this reason, Imogen will grow up to be quite precocious and particular about how her name is spelled and pronounced.  We like that.

Labor and birth went smoothly.  Quicker than with Ian, but more of the story to follow later.

Please pray that rest and breastfeeding go just as smoothly!