Sunday, April 27, 2014

Lunch

>>
1 handful of Kale; shredded
1 handful of baby arugula
1/2 handful of sunflower sprouts
Cubed: 
carrots
bell pepper
cucumber
avocado
pickled lemon
Chopped:
cilantro
Sprinkle of:
hemp seeds
chai seeds
flax seeds
almond slivers

Dressing
tsp brown rice Miso
1/2 cup olive oil
tsp sesame oil
tsp soy sauce
1/4 cup vinegar
tsp almond butter
shake

Monday, April 21, 2014

Lately




Odd n Ends

spring roll prep for dinner

















Garden tour late April
the garden from afar. depicted: hollyhock grove, carrot, onion, chard, and turnip boxes, hops, cucumber, snap and snow peas, strawberry patch, lavender bushes, herb garden, asparagus patch, potatoes, lettuce....  you get the idea.



Ben's Hops 

My salad garden: arugula, spinach, kale, romaine, cabbage.




strawberries and peas




Ben's hard work: nutrient rich tilled soil.




Our tree hill: apples, peaches, nectarines, cherries, plums, pomegranate.




My herbs: dill, thyme, rosemary, chamomile, oregano, basil, cilantro (mint is down by the creek running wild and untamed)




garlic grove




Seed-starts ready for take-off: tomatoes of all sorts, peppers, cukes, melons, squash, hardening off for transplant.




the joy of my days :)

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

words for Pine

>>You are fast asleep. You're long eyelashes gently lay upon your cheek. I've checked on you twice already to watch you breath in and out because in many ways you are still an extension of me. Though you are not safely tucked away in my tummy, I know we are both more content to be close together. As the weather warms I take you for walks on the winding path through the garden and it calms you. The stream trickles by beside us and the gentle breeze smells of our forested home. Sometimes I feel you grow limp and heavy and fast asleep on these walks. Other times you listen closely as I describe my favorite hollyhock and the remedies of each herb. As we walk I take in breaths of your scent. A sweet, musky, safe smell that warms my heart. I wonder if you will always have this scent or a version of it. I can already see your love of the wilderness and brim with excitement as I imagine our little family venturing into the woods, fishing, collecting stones, and swimming in the pools of the river. 
The nights in the first few months with you were thick and hazy, waking many times with a dim light trying but struggling to feed you with ease. Soon you grew safe, and cocooned between your pappa and I, more at home. I simply roll over when you are hungry, it makes more sense this way. In the evenings your pappa whisks you up into his big arms and holds you against his chest. You fall asleep to his familiar hums and soothing voice. You are more than I could have dreamed you to be. As unfamiliar as a little boy seemed at first, my worry has vanished and been replaced with an adoration for every part of your little being. I have never laughed with so much depth as I do when you smile. I have never held anything so close as I do you. I have never felt tears well up  at the thought of how much you rely on me or felt so compelled to protect anything, as much as you. Sometimes it scares me and I want to keep you all to myself, safe in my arms forever. I have never known anyone as close as I do you. I can feel your anxiety in a new place, and I know when you are hungry before you make a sound. I can tell when you are tired and have had enough for one day. I get to realize how blessed I am to be the one to bring such a beautiful light into the world. And as I see you bring joy to those around us, I want more and more to bring you out into the world and make it a better place. 
I think about the boy you will be, the man you will become, and I will teach you inner harmony and strength. I want to give you a foundation of unconditional love so that you can find your path and overcome challenges. In the years before you, I grew into a healthier and happier version of myself, giving up every toxin in hope that you too would be healthy and free of their complications. Your father prepared his life for you so that we would have a safe home and land for you to develop and play wild and free. We both wanted you so dearly before you were brought to us. I gave you all my strength in bringing you into this world without drugs and with each painful decision, you will always take priority. 

Sunday, April 6, 2014

The Birth Story

>>Finally after a few months have quietly slid by we are here in April already as a family of 3, experiencing each days as a new adventure with this little, amazing gift we have been given. Pine is now almost 9 weeks. He changes, visibly every morning when we all wake up.

On January 27th,  2 weeks and 3 days from my due date, I unknowingly had my last visit with my midwife. We had a conversation where I told her that I felt as if my body was going through some major changes. She asked me if I was relaxed and willing to wait for the baby, seeing as I was still fairly far from my due date. I told her "yes!" and in fact I was hoping that what I had felt was my mind working over time. However, that night I had Braxton Hicks contractions starting in the early evening.... and not really stopping.
As the night progressed I was beginning to question what I was experiencing but tried to sleep, tried to let go and relax. At midnight I checked the time and felt a definite change in the movements of my body. The Braxtons were stronger and it startled me. From that point on I didnt sleep but I didnt wake Ben because I knew I had to be sure this was really happening. Somewhere between 2 and 3 the contractions were still coming, and were painful. I needed Ben to join me in this, and to share the news... this was the beginning of the end of my pregnancy and soon we would meet our son.
Ben didn't believe me. But he woke and started the coffee. We started timing the gaps between the periods of pain and they were not regular at all. We knew we had hours to go, so I started the bath water. Nothing helped. At 5 we phoned my mom and soon the news would spread between our families.
Ben ran to the store as soon as it opened to get the supplies I had planned to get in the coming weeks before my due date. In the time that he left I experienced the contractions completely alone. It was frightening, although when they would peak in the last hours of my labor, the feeling of solitude, even with everyone around in full support, would be greater and harder to bear than any other experience I had ever had.
We ate breakfast and I wondered if it would stay put. I cleaned every inch of the entire house imagining a little sterile new life living within the same walls. I do not recommend exerting this amount of energy. Hours of mobility for 10 minutes, paralyzing pain for 1 minute went by until I wound up on the couch bracing myself between contractions that were much closer together and regular. Ben decided it was time to head to the hospital and right about then, as I remember, my experience changed. I could no longer see my surroundings, they just throbbed, and when I had moments between the pain my eyes closed in an attempt to rest. On the way I remember wishing my car had tinted windows because I could not control the arching of my back or the screams that i thought I would never be the type to let out.
 We were turned away. I was 4 centimeters. But according to the nurse it could be days or even weeks away from birth, and was there anywhere we could go and progress there? I couldn't wrap my mind around that proposition, and knowing we had already come an hour from our home in all seriousness to give birth was brought my spirits even further from hope. So we drove to Folsom lake. I remember the girl in the booth in the entrance who took our money and the frantic expressions on my mom and husbands faces.
 In a dirt parking lot Ben stopped the car and I threw open the door and vomited on my pants and slippers. All I could do was hunch myself over the hood of the car or lean into Ben. I would grab Bens hand so tight. The sun was sinking behind the trees, and finally my contractions had grown very close together.
 When we made our way through the hospital doors this time I had a contraction right there in front of a class full of pregnant women taking a tour of the hospital. I let out a cry of pain into Ben's shirt. I was in so much pain I could hardly walk. Yet at around 4:00pm I would still have 9 hours of even more immense pain to come.
They checked my progress and I was at a 6! I was finally taken seriously and we were moved into the birthing room. I was already exhausted, extremely thirsty, but I could only focus on what to do to bear the pain. Ben would use all his weight to press on my lower back. I mostly just curled to the side on the bed.
 At about 9pm I was almost fully dilated, and my contractions were longer than the rest between, in the transition stage before pushing. This was the most painful time. I didnt care who was around, when i had a contraction it felt like my entire midsection was being run-over by a semi, and I screamed. Although my water had not broken and I had no urges to push. Finally after we tried in the shower to naturally break them, and I had gone 3 hours in transition, the midwife and I decided to go ahead and let her break the barrier. And then I began to push.
Horrible, horrible pain and the hardest I have ever tried to do something as I pushed. My younger sister, who had been such an unexpected blessing throughout the entirety of the day, my loving mother, and dedicated, amazing coach of a husband all witnessed our little baby Pine enter the world at 1:51 am on a cloudy January night. After 24 heavy hours filled with terror, the world around us would stop and we would be parents. We would give up everything else and just rest with our new gift.
It's weird, after not sleeping, vomiting at least once an hour, not eating, and physically enduring more than anything ever, you suddenly have this helpless creature. This adorable little being is left for you to care for. Even though you have never cared for one before, you believe you can do it. All of a sudden it's like your primal instincts kick in, and everything you do is for your baby. To this day it has been quite an exhausting yet blissfully rewarding task unlike any I have ever accepted.
They tell you it is like the longest marathon you have ever participated in. It is. But you dont exactly think about the concept of that when you are in the middle of it. I had to be hooked up to an IV to hydrate and replenish my body because I wasnt even thinking about eating or drinking.
In the end the nurses and midwives congratulated me for naturally completing an incredibly long and difficult labor.
If I could do anything different I would birth in a more natural setting. The period of time after  birth in the hospital was so invasive. I felt confident enough from studying before the birth to know what to do with him, and i felt like the nurses coming in every 20 minutes and swooping him up, and then he'd cry, was unnecessary and disruptive of our family time. Let alone Ben's "bed" which was a pull-out chair, the completely unhealthy food, and the point system I had to meet for breastfeeding.
We are now a family. Our lives have changed completely. What Ive known, and get to experience now is; having a baby is about sacrificing. You give up your own wants and whims out of love on behalf of your child. I look down the road to an older Pine and at how important these moments are now to that future man. Not everything in life is easy, but after every sacrifice, every dedicated ounce that you give, the path to his future becomes smoother. I am loving every minute with him :)



Between contractions, ready for the hospital.


moments after birth


Some how I look verry chipper here. I'm chalking that up to adrenaline. Mayyybe the IV had just kicked in. 







leaving the hospital

the day around us... it was a blur but i caught this moment.





 last week :)