Should you or shouldn't you (have kids)? Advice from an on-the-fencer who took the plunge.

Hi there. I know it. You've all heard enough from me. If you are one of my Facebook friends you know that I am a super WHINY complainy sometimes-joyous new parent. In fact, even though I promised myself I would never become one of "them",  even most of my photos now are of my sweet Utah. ( One of the reasons new mamas stop posting photos of themselves is because they never look photo-worthy anymore. At least I don't)... But yes, my sweet son, pictured below, ALWAYS does. Sorry about that. If you are not my FB friend then perhaps you've read my last few posts about my horrendous postpartum anxiety and PTSD and if not, go ahead, read them, and know that you will never have THAT bad. Sadly I am (WAS) a worse case scenario in real life. ANYHOW.

I honestly didn't know if I ever would had kids. One thing is for sure, I definitely KNEW I DID NOT NEED to in order to live a "full life" as so many of our grandparents and parents like to tell us. I knew and I STILL KNOW that that is hogwash. There are a million people and communities in our world who could use the extra love, free time, optimism, happiness and intelligence of child-free people. There are countless ways to volunteer, to create art, to write stories and communicate, and to work your butt off that rival the efforts of having kids and the rewards that doing so brings. I think of my hero, Terry Tempest Williams. I can't get over that people will tell you that you will be "missing out" on the greatest thing in life because IT SIMPLY IS NOT TRUE. This world is great in so many ways, and having children is just one of them.

I ended up taking the plunge because I am an experience-junkie. I didn't want to not know what it was all about. I guess that means that I traded off the experience of not knowing, which, indeed, is an experience of its own. And now I will never be a childfree 55 year old. I suppose I thought I sort of could guess what that would be like since I had been childfree so many years (38), but I could not imagine what being a mom would be like and I was plain curious like a cat. And I also thought I would be pretty good at it (so far ... NOT). I wanted to one day watch my future 30 year old son drive up to his parent's house on the night before Thanksgiving and to walk out into the cold and greet him and give him a giant hug and tell him how much I love him and miss him. I wanted at least some kind of mother-child relationship in my future. I wanted to know what that is.

And now I want to do something good for the world. I want to help those who are on the fence like I once was know a few REAL TRUTHS about having a baby. For some reason I was one of those people who everyone told me how "wonderful" and surprisingly "easy" it was. I'm not making that up. Multiple couples told me that if they'd "KNOWN HOW EASY IT WAS THEY WOULD HAVE STARTED WAY EARLIER"????????? Um excuse me WHAT???? Now that I can see clearly and am a mama myself I cannot believe these people told me these things! My sister actually doesn't even believe that anyone ever told me this but I SWEAR IT HAPPENED. When I finally made my decision to try as hard as I could to get pregnant, their unbelievably cheery words echoed in my mind! "It's easier than before we had kids!" ... "people are huge whimps, it's really so awesome!" I also heard "you've lived for yourself long enough, get on with it." And other odd and rude pressure-y statements considering my OLD AGE and all (mad face). Don't get me wrong, I am so grateful that I now have my amazing son, but truth be told, if I'd known the REAL truth, he probably wouldn't be here. So maybe it was God/ the Universe/ Great mama spirit/ mother nature's way of tricking me, I'm not sure. But yeah, basically, I got punk'd.  In the end I am sure I will be even beyond grateful for the strange and synchronistic coercing of the Universe, but MAN were those people either extremely lucky or LYING OUT THEIR ASSES.

Since having a baby I now realize about ten thousand things that there was no way I could have understood before. Some of them are great and some of them are not great at all. There is just NO possible WAY to know until you have done it. I can't tell you how many times I read awful things and thought "that won't be me" and how wrong I turned out to be. How much it is EXACTLY ME now. It must be biology's way of getting a pregnant person to cope with the circumstances, by offering hope and justice through thoughts of "that won't be me". And in the end (post having a child)... sadly IT IS YOU and more. I mean I am sure there are a few rare gems who become new moms who can look just as glamorous and be just as happy if not happier and continue some amazing career and still play in their band and start working out 4 weeks postpartum, but I could not make it happen. I am not a gloss-over-my-life always-look-pretty kind of gal. I can't help it. I am bluntly and abundantly honest. I am honest to a point of fault. I can not tell a lie. Let me tell you this, you can trust me when I tell you the things you should or shouldn't know about yourself and your possible future(s) whilst deciding on whether to ever have kids.

Here are some KEY things to consider.

1. How do you function on little sleep? DAYS IN A ROW.

Some people are decent with this. I am not one of them. My brother, who has three kids, is one of them. My husband even, is good at functioning on little sleep (albeit he is 7 years my younger which makes a big difference on the amount of sleep you can work with). Are you 25 or 35? Cause age matters about this. And let me tell you, there is a GIANT CHANCE that you will be more exhausted and living on less sleep than you ever thought possible.

I knew this, going in. And I have been obsessed with getting 7-8 hours of sleep for years now, as when I get less my days are awful, my mood is awful, and I can not enjoy anything about life. Somehow I thought the stars and the universe would smile upon me and grant me a wonderful sleep-thru-the-night from day one baby. Yeah freaking right. Oh, but I do have friends who it has happened to, HOWEVER, DO NOT COUNT ON IT. I barely made it through newbornhood and all. I just barely, by the fur of my fingernails, made it through. Like... picture me 15 feet from the entrance of a state mental health facility in real life. Of course my own hormonal and PTSD induced insomnia made matters 30 times worse but...

Prepare for 4-9 hours of sleep over 72 hour periods. For WEEKS. Possibly YEARS. I have lucked out (since he was 6 months old) and now six nights out of seven my guy sleeps eleven hours in a row from 11pm to 10am. We are lucky lucky ducks. Yes, we wanted a late riser so we made that happen.

If, due to lack of sleep, you cannot function to the point of insanity, extreme irrationality, scary and sometimes suicidal mood swings, rage, hallucinations... YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE KIDS.

If not sleeping just puts you in a bad mood.... GO AHEAD AND HAVE KIDS.

2. Are you ever bored?

Are you one of those people with a million things to do every day besides work? The kind of person who even when you are jobless you can't seem to find enough time? Someone who likes to read as many books as you can, make art or music and create things, learn about all sorts of subject matter, go out with friends, travel... etc?

Um...... Having a child is unadvisable for these types. Extremely un. TAKE CAUTION. I am one of these peoples. I have, in the past, wished I could live FIVE lives sometimes there are so many things I want to do in my ONE life. I wish there were 37 hours in each day! I used to resent school, work, anything that took my free time away from me. Before having a baby I couldn't IMAGINE why a baby would really take all that much time. I just kept thinking, even while pregnant, "it's just a BABY. It can't use up ALL OF YOUR TIME. What are people complaining about so much?!!! Can't they just set it in a swing or a playpen and get on with their day!?"
All I can think of to say to my old, COMPLETELY IGNORANT SELF, sorry hun-bun, you just could not have known the amount of dependency and pure neediness of a baby. You were such an idealist/ idiot. And yet now I can barely remember how I could have been so ignorant. Didn't I think clearly? It's a helpless baby! Of course it needs your every second! Of course you will not have time to yourself for a few years! (I've been broken). And honestly you do get a couple hours here and there once he or she is like four months old.

If, by chance, you DO get bored often or even on occasion... Go ahead, have a kid. You will never be bored again.

3. How do you function under crazy amounts of stress? Do you buck up or do you back out?

Me, myself, I'm a back-outer. Yep. Like I would QUIT a job or just walk away from things that required too much of me. Sometimes a job would start out perfect but after a year the place would increase my responsibilities times twenty but not offer any more pay. Yeah right. So I would quit. Because responsibility was never my middle name anyways. And I would get right back to my happy old self by saying "Dismiss whatever insults your soul", my favorite quote by Walt Whitman. This quote got me out of bad jobs, yucky relationships, a few bills, and even friendships-gone-bad. I could always get my old happy back quite easily by just backing out and pretending it had never existed. I know... "GROW UP" some people must be thinking of me. But that was my WHOLE PLAN. TO NEVER HAVE TO GROW UP.

And besides...News flash Walt Whitman. A BABY SCREAM-CRYING for anywhere from 10 minutes to 4 hours ABSOLUTELY INSULTS A MOTHER'S SOUL. And yet, dismissing your baby is NOT an option. So there went my life motto.

So. In other words, if you aren't a back-outer and can rise to the stressful occasions, handling them with a smile and a sense of humor then YES YOU SHOULD HAVE KIDS.

If you run from anxiety and stress towards the beautiful sunset with your arms raised up in freedom from the relief of escaping the horror and responsibility that wanted to consume you... YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE KIDS.

4. Do you enjoy driving and riding around in a car?

Do you like to just chill in your car with the stereo on? Driving around FOR HOURS AT A TIME  or parking in shady places and just surfing the net on your smartphone while nothing productive happens (besides a baby's nap)? Then yes YOU SHOULD HAVE KIDS.

Would sitting in a car OUTSIDE of Target/ Trader Joe's/ Lowe's when you'd rather be shopping INSIDE drive you bananas to where you would consider offering a stranger money to carsit? I RECOMMEND deeply considering your choice to have kids.

5.  Do you love babies?

Have you always loved babies? Did you love playing with baby dolls? Do you love kids? YES YOU SHOULD HAVE KIDS.

Did baby dolls bug you? Do you always wonder what people mean when they say newborns are cute? I am (was) one of these types. I put my baby doll in the oven and turned it on when I was 4 or 5. Baby Laura, I remember her name. I just thought it would be fun. I didn't mean to be cruel and wasn't trying to be evil, I just knew it was a doll and wanted to see what would happen (I don't think I fully understood ovens yet)....
If you have never been a fan of babies or playing house then you should still weigh ALL OF THE previous qualities in yourself heavily before deciding to have children.  Although I am now bafflingly obsessed with babies I did not used to give a hoot. I feel like part of the reason I turned into a baby stalker is that I am in utter AWE of their power. Like tiny kings with no rhyme or reason riding around in gilded carseat chariots. Perhaps it's more of a fascination with these tiny kings/queens. They can take down Beyonce and Jay-Z for goodness sake. They can obliterate a lifetime of hard work with a few months of crying. There is a reason some people are maternal and others aren't.

6. Do people with kids bug you?

That's right. They used to bug me. A lot. Their OBSESSION with their kids. I wondered how a kid could grow up healthily with a parent so LOST in their obsession with their own kid? I felt like people were losing themselves as well as all boundaries for their kids.

And now I'm one of them.

If (most) people with kids drive you nuts, Facebook statuses included, consider not having any in order to save face and dignity (a highly likely chance that you will TURN INTO THE PERSON you don't like).
If you are cheerfully adoring of all your friend's with kids' photos and comments and conversation then childbear away!

7. Lastly. How much do you enjoy food? Good, leisurely, beautiful food?

If you are one of the types who doesn't mind throwing a Hot-Pocket in the microwave, then kids might be easier for you. And even if you are more on the organic side but a cold meal of yesterday's lentils with a stale edge of homemade bread and a handful of cherry tomatoes could be a daily staple then you might handle this kid thing in stride too.

Sadly I (and my husband especially) loved to make long, extravagant yummy dinners with like ten kinds of veggies chopped up and sides of cooked grains and some kind of sauteed tofu or baked fish. He would make homemade salsas, sauces, and line up the condiments (sriracha, cajun spice, butter, etc) and we would plate up and sit down for an awesome new flick. Those days are gone. For now at least.

If you highly value your relaxing evening meal with a glass of wine (ahhhh my Downton Abbey days ahhhh), you may want to carefully consider your strengths and weaknesses when deciding to have kids.



Now. For the classic and Abbey-esque paradox/ hypocrisy. All things considered. I am in love with my child. What began as beyond-difficult-turned-identity-crisis and suddenly became beautiful. I am in love with life again. And even if you are like me, a person who, if I had met my old self I would have highly discouraged EVER having a baby, chances are it could become a joy and a renewal and a true love of yours, this parenting thing. I mean c'mon, I failed EVERY SINGLE ONE of my own 7 questions! But remember this for those of you who do fail those questions. It's not just hard work that ends up being worth it. It is sometimes horribly, disfiguringly difficult and hard work. Hard like sad hard. Hard like the kind of hard if someone you loved died. Hard like the worst day at work ever times ten. Hard like not fun in the slightest. Hard like you might go crazy. Hard like a boulder you will never be able to move.

But... that being said... I do have a feeling that anything that pushes you to go through something so difficult will be worth it in ways that I am not yet able to understand or express. And that hard work NEVER leads to nothing, provided you are an intelligent enough parent to truly work in a conscious way to be the best you can be as a parent and to simultaneously be the best you can be to yourself. To actually NOT leave yourself out of the equation.

And if, indeed, you never want kids and know this to be a truth inside of you, then more power to you. Luckily more and more people are coming to terms with this!  (Not that you need MY dumb reassurance...) I say embrace your forties, fifties, sixties and beyond being a childfree AMAZING woman/ or man and know that the world NEEDS people like you desperately. And so do other people's children. You are the fun ones, the carefree wise ones, the artists, the dreamers who never quit, the ambitious, the adventurers. You will be taken care of. You will be just as loved, those who say you won't don't have the creativity or imagination to know how good friends and nieces and nephew can actually be. In fact, you are a treasure to the world, we need you.

Happy Bird-day to me! (giving thanks to the natural world)

At the last minute we decided that it would be worth a try to go on a birthday trip for my, gulp... 38th. I'll just pretend I just wrote 28th. But... I could refer to my old blog post called "Age is just another word for how long rad things have been happening to you" which incidently references trying to get pregnant (and failing at the time), my first time to the Elkhorn Slough (the subject matter of this post now) and sisterhood with my sister (and the fear of not having daughters). I believe I was 35 when I wrote the dang thing.

Anyhow, on to current affairs. I am in the midst of reading Refuge, by Terry Tempest Williams, who I like to think of as a kindred spirit to me. And to my family. Well, I feel a kinship to her that is like family. I have only read some of "Red" before Refuge but I went to see her speak in December and it was she that sparked the realization that my son would be named Utah, or Vyvian Utah, since Art won on the first name.

Utah originates from an Apache Indian word (yuttahih), which means "one that is higher up." Europeans thought the word refered to Indians living higher in the mountains than the Navajo - the territory became known as the land of the Utes, and eventually Utah." from statesymbolsusa.org

Anyhoo, whilst struggling through my personal postpartum hell in those first six months, I found that watching birds became a source of solace and happiness for me. For a few months I forgot how and why to love most of the things that I used to love, but nature and birdwatching still made my spirit smile. The desert still lured me. The outdoors felt invigorating still, especially when the sun shone. Wildlife became more of a cornerstone for me than ever. I have loved watching the birds for a few years now, but I really got into it while feeling sort of trapped in my living room, less able to get around with my birth injury and my baby. And so from the deck of our Nevada City house and down in the garden I would try to see what I could see with my binoculars. I was especially thrilled at the frequent visits of a Great Blue Heron and a Red-shouldered Hawk that would perch right outside on the bare tree branches. Right before we moved out I often saw Mourning Doves and more finches and sparrows. And of course the hummingbirds were in action daily.

He blends into the white of the water, but there she (or he) is.

I also would drive to other neighborhoods that got sun for longer than ours did to see and hear the birds at sunset, walking around with my boy in the Beco carrier, pulling out the binoculars and both the boy and I just listening to the sweet chirpage. He has always loved nature walks, and I am so very grateful for that! He loved his first real hike in Joshua Tree, and then our bird walks, hikes in Yellowstone, walks around our neighborhood now (I finally got a backpack with a real frame!) I hope he is a bird lover like me!

Walking downhill in the Morgan Ranch neighborhood, which has fantastic open sky and sunset views.

View from Morgan Ranch neighborhood walk

So for my birthday on the 10th I wanted to head to the Elkhorn Slough Estuarine Reserve which is about thirty minutes south of Santa Cruz, near the town of Moss Landing. There are hundreds of species of birds that hang out here, it is one of the top ten spots in the United States for birding and the amount of bird species. Sadly, when we arrived on Tuesday (my birthday) the actual reserve was closed! It is closed Mondays and Tuesdays... But nature herself was not closed. :) So we took a detour and went to Moss Landing State Beach and walked along the inlet there by a little bay. We saw all the same birds that would have been accessible through the reserve and I had so much fun! Utah did too, and Art. We met up with my long time dear friend Ruebi and her son Nico, since they live not far and I do not get to see them enough as it is

I forgot my Birds of Northwest America book so I was trying to get my Audubon app to work on my iPhone to identify the birds when we happened upon some informational signs as we walked. I was so happy to find out the names of exactly which birds were all around us, as the app can be very hard to narrow down the species you are looking at! And I was even happier because I had taken notice of one specific bird with an almost needle thin long curved beak (it curves slightly downward). I found out that it is called the "long billed curlew" and it just so happened to be the name of the exact chapter I was reading in "Refuge"! I was thrilled with the synchronicity of it all. Not only did the informational signs show pictures and descriptions of the birds in the vicinity, but also the food sources for the birds, most of which live beneath the wet sand.

In the year 2000 I had come to the slough once before on a biology class trip (with my sister- it was awesome) and I remembered learning about the "innkeeper worm" as we kayaked through the slough. The class was led by Mike Denega, a terrific professor and biologist, who now heads up "Classrooms without Walls" for Folsom Lake College. Anhow, this cool innkeeper worm,  it lives exactly beak's length below the sand! A perfect dinner for the marbled godwits and the long billed curlews... We even got to watch them slurping up the worms.

If you are interested in nature and science I highly recommend a visit to Moss Landing and the slough!

My boy kept getting sidetracked!

Mostly you can see Marbled Godwits and Least Sandpipers here, but the long billed curlews are in there too!

Here we are perched along an algae filled inlet that a footpath led over. There were small birds I didn't identify here.

Nico was a huge fan of my binoculars. It was so cute. He was really good at focusing right in on the birds! Suddenly I got very excited to be a mama to a little boy! Perhaps if Ruebi and her sweet little family move to Nevada City little Nico can be of a good scientific influence on my Ute. Not pictured here is my sweet Arth, who took most of the photos!

Here at the docks you can see two pelicans and a sea otter! I got to watch these pelicans fishing and gulping down their dinner. I love having binoculars!  

On the docks. This boy was fascinated by the seal faces that would pop up out of the water. They looked like little subhumans swimming toward us. 

Here is one of the friendly seals. It was so cool that the seals and sea otters hung out so close to each other.

A snowy egret

 I am so grateful that the book Refuge by Terry Tempest Williams led me to this magical place for my birthday! It was renewing to my 38 year old soul to walk the slough with Art and Ruebi and our boys. All in all I identified about 7 kinds of birds. Avocets, Snowy Egrets, Brown Pelicans, American White Pelicans, Marbled Godwits, Long Billed Curlews, and Least Sandpipers. There were tiny birds I have yet to identify.
There is a part in Refuge that stands out to me, it is a letter from Terry's mother (who is dying of cancer) to her, sent from the wild lands of Switzerland. She has been hiking with her husband, Terry's father, and remembers a time they visited Hawaii.
It reads:

When we went to Hawaii for the first time, nineteen years ago, we ran and embraced it all. We didn't just look at the ocean, we dove into the waves and tasted salt water on our lips. We greeted the sunrise on the crater in Maui and looked out over thousands of miles. I'll swear we saw the curvature of the earth. We celebrated each day by walking along the beach, picking up shells. We ran into the wind and fell on to the sand, watching the tiny sandpipers dart back and forth. 

And we are doing that now. We are hiking up and down the Alps together, walking farther than I ever thought possible. We have slept on the grass next to cows with bells around their necks. We have walked thigh-high in wildflowers. The natural world is a third party in our marriage. It holds us close and lets us revel in the intimacy of all that is real. 

Although Art is not into the wilderness the way that I am, I swear the years will convert him. The magic and beauty and miracle of the natural world is contagious and captivating. But besides that, here is a letter from a woman that knows her death is pursuing her. And even during such a struggle inside her soul, wilderness brings her solace and wonder. No wonder it has been my crutch through my darker days. It has a power that is unrivaled. Now that I have come out on the other side and feel filled with my old vigor and enthusiasm for life I can feel the power of that nature far more than ever.

And from the Good Book.

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.

I interpret this as the power of duality and paradox in life. The more I accept my darker and weaker times, the more I am able to revel in the beauty that is around me now that I have moved on. One could never know the true feeling of hot if they never felt what icy cold is like. One could never know the real brilliance of light if they had never experienced a dark dark moonless night. These ups and downs make my heart deeper, stronger, and more aware. For this I am so grateful for my struggles, painful as they have been.  I am humbled by beauty and happiness after such a dark internal struggle has happened. I never thought I could be more grateful than the gratitude I experienced for life before having a baby. but I was wrong. I think I might be the most thankful person in all the world now. Thankful for the miracles in nature everywhere around me. Thankful to be alive. Thankful for my baby boy. Thankful for my absolutely wonderful friends and family. Thankful to Art, who has put up with the hardest parts of me. Thankful to the Great Spirit that moves in all things.

I will continue my geekiness by returning to this and other bird reserves as often as possible. There are so many to discover in California, so I hear! The fire has been stoked and is now burning at full speed in my heart.

Mamas and their boys. I had such an amazing time and I wish I could have spent so much more time with Ruebi and Nico.

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger?

THAT's my question of the year.

I think the answer is yes.

This post goes out to the other first time mother strugglers, like myself. I thought at 37, having partied and lived life to the fullest until now (traveling, writing, playing music, always working in the background), having a baby would be easy peasy. Oh how wrong I was. Turns out that the longer you have had your life to yourself, the harder it is to give it up, NOT the other way around. Especially if you were like me, who honestly was on the fence about ever having any kids in the first place and ended up with birth trauma and a major birth injury. You can read more about those first weeks at my other depressing new motherhood post here.
I don't mean to sound brutal. But having a child is brutal. Childbirth is BRUTAL. At least the way it went for me it was.

To top it off...this past 4th of July week I have to say I have suffered through one of the most intensely unhappy, miserable, terrible times I have ever known. I guess I could also say the past entire 6 months has been the same, at least mentally and emotionally inside myself, despite having brought an amazing, sweet, and beautiful little soul into the world. (See postpartum anxiety and PTSD part at the end of this post). But last week, on top of all the other chaos in my world (and thanks TO it) we moved from one home to another and despite multitudes of help and sweet people that held my baby all along, it was one of the hardest things I've done. On day one of new beginnings, sitting here at the new house, old house totally cleaned (down to the very last baseboard and doorframe) I feel a great sense of relief. I believe Rock Bottom 2013 #5 may be over. UGgghghhhhhh... and PHEW. Moving with a 5 month old is something I would not suggest to anyone I've ever known!

I thought the move from Pollock Pines to Nevada City in 2011 was as bad as it could get. I was in the middle of finals, our electricity almost started a fire the FIRST night at our Nevada City house and at 1 in the morning we had to collect goldfish and cats and GET OUT with a huge alarm sounding thru the forest. We stayed in a motorhome for 3 days at Art's parents while the landlord and prop managment figured out the problem. I had to drive to Folsom to finish finals a couple times whilst living out of a motorhome and trying to figure out where all my stuff was. It was pretty lame. But through all of this, at least there wasn't an INSANE CALIFORNIA HEAT AND HUMIDITY WAVE.

Vyvian Utah, the strongest boy soul in the world

Like this time. I have figured out that one of my major downfalls during moving is being a Virgo. I am a perfectionist and hate clutter and messes. Therefore moving is abominable to me at times. Especially this time because with a baby it was about twenty times more haphazard. See, with a baby like ours, someone always has to be holding the baby. Meaning where once there were two adults to help out in situations, there is now one. Whomever isn't holding the baby. And sure, you can wear a baby carrier thing like our awesome Beco, yes, you can "babywear" but it doesn't change the fact that you cannot bend down or over to pick things up or squat to do things (at least not with my injury), meaning whatever chores you are helping out with must be about waist level or higher. Which is also OK but still means that things like packing and cleaning which were once a cinch become extremely complicated. Thank goodness to my baby helpers so I could pitch in with our house here and there.

The worst part was going back to empty and clean clean clean our old house for a week and then returning to our new house in the 102 degree evenings,  and the house being like 90 degrees INSIDE. I was like, OK, WHAT ARE WE DOING moving to this new place??? (there were good reasons tho). It was hot and sticky and almost unbearable in the new house. Not to mention filled to the brim with unpacked boxes and baskets and boxes of junk, always those last horrid items that get moved from the old house. Plus our old house had air conditioning of the coldest sort. Icy AC. Brand new and central throughout home. This new house FELT LIKE HELL. Not to mention at about 40% humidity a swamp cooler barely does a thing and we were experiencing 60-70% humidity which is extremely rare around here. To top it off our new home's forest-teal green carpet felt kind of stiff and yet wet to the touch. SO GROSS. I was scared to let my baby crawl on it. (Still kind of am I HATE carpet). The heat wave thankfully only lasted until yesterday and today it will be a cool 91-95 here tops. I am utterly grateful to mother nature. It was 103 for way too many days!

To make matters worse, we had a precious $2250 deposit in the old house and it happened to be managed by the strictest property management around. Supposedly the owner, Betty Collins of Collins Property Management is super strict about CLEAN and will keep your money for very little reason. WE WORKED OUR ASSES OFF. And so did Art's entire family. Especially his dear young grandma Vickey who surprised us with Grandpa Gene as if they had become cleaning elves one morning, driving all the way from Placerville and getting some of the hardest parts out of the way- the areas without AC like the basement and garage area, filled with cobwebs and trash and junk and music studio equipment and piles of tools and planters, etc. I don't know how I'll ever return the favor.

What were we doing moving??? Our old house was spectacular. It looked over a stream with a beautiful deck and was perfect walking distance to Nevada City. It was across from a trailhead and was on a beautiful street. The deck was two and a half stories tall and on stilts. It was in a lush forest. Butterflies and red shouldered hawks and great blue herons abounded. It had all the amenities and great heating and a gigantic grand wood stove in a 20 foot plus ceiling lodge style living room with wood beams.

The big beautiful but dark living room

Springtime in the middle room

BUT IT WAS DARK. Nine months out of the year sunlight barely made it there. The lodge living room was DARK ALL of THE TIME even in the middle of summer. It felt cold in there to me. Too big and full of nothing for no reason. Too far in the forest with no neighbors driving by. I felt claustrophobic in the forest after giving birth. I used to LOVE this house to death! And suddenly it had become this place that seemed dark and ominous to me. The only thing I ended up liking was my garden and the birds. I started resenting EVERYTHING there. Our night routine for ourselves and the boy because I had insomnia. Like insane, awful, unexplainable insomnia. I started dreading our bedroom, the hallway, the dark living room, the shade of the cedars and tall pines which came every day at 3 in the middle of summer and in other seasons covered our whole house constantly. My dream house became my nightmare home. So odd. So strange to have loved a house so much and then to have turned on it from deep inside my new mama soul. We had such amazing parties there, so much fun, so much lighthearted goodness, and then yet suddenly the home itself became like a tall dark shadow... always preventing the light I felt I desperately needed, literally and figuratively. The new house we found had GOBS of sunshine! It is out in the open with a thousand stars to see above, even tho all horizons and hills around have oaks and pines and other trees. And Art's wonderful family lives across the street. Support system, check. I have never needed one so badly. Complete with a gourmet great Aunt (Pauline) and her composer husband as well as the coolest grandparents whom all reside on adjacent parcels of land here. To top it off, my solar lights now work all night long here. There is sun, sun, and more sun. And I have looked into it and have found out that sun is dire in regulating postpartum hormones!

the kitchen window looking out to the sweet garden there

I also came to find out that much of my postpartum mental struggle was from PTSD, in real life. Something I experienced from a very difficult birth and then a botched episiotomy that left everything down there a huge mess and led to being diagnosed with a fistula, which thank the Lord I ended up NOT having. For the first two months postpartum I thought I had a rectal-vaginal fistula. During those first weeks I experienced pain as bad as the birth itself (well... not quite but close) plus I read absolute horror stories about the condition online. About being housebound for the rest of my life. Insane stuff that was confounding me with darkness. And there are facets to this sort of birth injury that are heartbreaking, disgusting, and absolutely horrible. If you have never heard of a rectal vaginal fistula just imagine what the name conjures up and you are probably thinking along the right lines. Some people think they only happen in third world countries. THINK AGAIN. I am in a Facebook group of amazingly strong women who have suffered these fistulas, and all in first world countries with supposedly "good" health care. It is a rare injury but it happens and what makes it even worse is that most medical professionals are very uneducated on it. Here in the good ol' US of A our health and hospital care for new moms is actually very SUBPAR compared to some other countries. Anyways... I couldn't get in to a colorectal surgeon (who could tell me what was actually up with my body) until April, even though I birthed Utah in January. I was a wreck. I had panic attacks, was diagnosed with postpartum depression (which I actually didn't really have so much) and felt like I was living on the outskirts of my own life. The injury didn't just injure my body, it was ruining my mind. I was so grateful in the beginning of April when I found out that what I had was not an actual fistula, just something very close. The colorectal surgeon recommended (still does) extensive surgery that would require 2 weeks of laying down (no sitting up allowed), 2 weeks of NO FOOD except clear liquieds, as well as MONTHS, perhaps even a year, of not lifting anything or doing strenuous exercise. While having a new baby? YEA RIGHT!

Even tho I was relieved to not have an actual fistula I still was mortified at the issues my body was having. It overtook my psyche. I couldn't remember MY OWN LIFE. MY OWN MEMORIES seemed to be M.I.A. And around 6 weeks the pure, unadulterated insomnia began. I would get 4-5 hours TOTAL of sleep over three days sometimes, and not because my baby was keeping me awake. It was just me, lying there, awake. Like one hour of sleep one night, two the next, and three the next. I tried acupuncture, antidepressants (quit in three days though), meditations, counseling... nothing was changing it.  I FINALLY got in touch with a postpartum specialist, a wonderful woman who was able to tell me why I was experiencing what I was experiencing and how I could get back to my old self. My old self seemed like a dreamy vision. A girl who used to be happy, be excited for each new day and night, who studied, loved to celebrate everything, wanted the adventure of life at any given moment, whatever it may bring. I was gone. I could barely remember ME. Photographs and diary entries proved I had existed. I was scared to the point of considering suicide. I think it was the insomnia working against me, almost killing me. I felt like the birth itself was a weird dream nightmare. I would wake up at 2 am and could not stop thinking about it. It overcame me.  I couldn't let go of how wrong it had gone and how so many other women I knew seemed to have such normal births and recoveries, even when involving C sections. I felt like a failure at the entire thing, including new motherhood. It almost made me insane. At times I was an inch away from being admitted into a mental hospital. I had panic attacks at night, this awful sense of doom, of having lost all hope (upon losing sight of the sun or when dusk came). Dealing with all of this insanity while at the same time never having a moment to yourself to try to look cute or put on makeup and go out with the girls or go to concerts or play piano when once upon a time that is ALL YOU EVER DID is a mental and emotional ROAD TRIP to say the least.

Me and Utah, he's about 4 months

But my postpartum therapist/specialist, Lindsey Plumer, let me know WHAT WAS GOING ON IN MY BRAIN.  She assured me that she had seen similar situations in other new moms and just hearing that was a huge relief! I felt like all around me every new mom I knew was breezing through the whole thing, with semi-uncomplicated births and babies and no weird mental states. She told me that during birth there is a probable chance of trauma because of what is happening to your body, but most of the time the brain reaction to trauma ends neatly and those memories are stored in a certain area in your brain. However sometimes, especially when a traumatic event ends in a major bodily injury that goes ignored and/or denied, your brain does not close off the part of itself that kicks up the adrenaline and allows you to deal with the trauma. That is what happens with PTSD. She diagnosed me with PTSD and let me know that most likely it was causing not only the insomnia, but the severe anxiety (of which I had never experienced anything like before) as well as panic attacks and the detached feeling from my own life. And so I attended EMDR therapy which saved my soul. In real life. Actually saved my soul. Like I could remember my life pre-the birth. Until the end of June when i had the EMDR i could NOT remember my life before the birth. Suddenly memories came back. I could sleep. I felt like me again. I wasn't scared of night coming! I felt like I actually had BIRTHED my baby instead of having been horribly nightmarishly injured and accidentally wound up as a mom. Two sessions of EMDR after an introductory session with Lindsey healed my life. I can not tell you the struggles I had with this "PTSD" situation. The first 6 months of my baby's life was the hardest time in my life. I could barely enjoy my boy, although I DID very much bond with him and fall in love with him.

A sign in the bathroom at my therapist's practice in Roseville.

Update, September....

But I learned so much, now that I can see clearly and see that I made it thru. One amazing thing is that by some sort of miracle, and thru the echoes of so much love and kindness of my sweet and amazing friends, my body is healing itself enough for me to feel almost completely normal. I can run! I can lift anything I want (thanks to choosing no surgery)! I can have sex! I can hold my sweet sweet boy until he is 18. I blame this miracle on the awesome support of my friends and family, they have helped to heal me. They have told me TIME AND AGAIN that the body is an amazing thing in healing itself, and I began to truly believe them. I also believe that if I hadn't had the support system that I do I may not be alive right now. Also, our new home is beautiful and the land here is filled with wildlife. I go on evening walks with Ute and have seen quail, red-shouldered hawks, jackrabbits, deer, ducks and more. I love our new home and all of its sunshine. I love having family close by! I love living here. I love that I can remember my life before Utah's birth. And I am loving being a mother! Some days it is still hard, but most days I am so proud of how far we have come, the three of us. Utah, me, and my totally supportive awesome husb, arth.

One thing that I learned is that it is extremely difficult to find postpartum resources online. I had the hardest time finding my amazing therapist, who specializes in postpartum and women's issues. I am an internet research WIZ pretty much- I'm completely geeky about it- and it took HOURS to find decent postpartum links, and then to find the therapists in my area by calling and emails.

Utah and I at the new house, I'm giving a "motorcycle ride"...

I am going to create a website for women that covers the entire United States and pulls together resources for postpartum difficulties to make it much much easier for women to find the specialists and support groups that exist in their area. Not just for postpartum depression, but for postpartum anxiety, birth trauma and PTSD, birth injuries, etc. etc. I am GOING to make it happen. There is a reason I have been in school to learn web and graphic design for the past 2 1/2 years- and this is DEFINITELY one of them.

And there is a reason I had this beautiful boy baby. My mission to help other women being SECOND. The first is that this amazingly spirited, lovely, intensely happy and sometimes intensely mad wonderful boy soul NEEDED to arrive on planet earth. I don't mean to sound like every other momma in the world, but I'll go ahead and do so, THIS BOY HAS GOT SOME PLANS IN HIS BONES. I don't know what he's gonna do but I have a feeling he is going to ROCK THE BOAT in the best way possible. What more could a girl ask for? I gave birth to a revolutionary, I JUST KNOW IT.

The Insomnia Adventures

Ok....

Here is a page for when my insomnia kicks in. If it starts tonight again, I will come out here and write some things down. Here are a few ideas...

Ten Things I want to accomplish in 2013





Ten Things to do in the next week





Ideas for tonight:
Read who gave you what for the baby shower
Make peanut butter cookies
Read Proof Of Heaven
Read Desert Solitaire
Watch episodes of Anne of Green Gables
Watch Pollyanna
Watch Ferris Bueller's Day Off
Watch that Baby documentary


(this is obviously unfinished but since writing it I have overcome my insomnia thank jesus)

Intervention (The trials of new motherhood and the joy of being rescued)

Before I go into my little story, I will make it known, that I bore a baby. I had a baby! I never even knew if I would ever be a mother, uncertain if I could handle it or had the personality for it, but here I am- now a mother! My sweet boy was born at 12:41 am on January 10th. Vyvian Utah Everson Spark. I call him Utah.

Childbirth was not kind to me. I will say that. I ended up with a terrible birth complication that had me at the ER three days after birth. It was beyond terrible. Even the nurses at the ER were holding their hands over their mouths and exclaiming in horror over my body. They called it "a defect". I have never been so scared in my life of what was happening to my body. Now I know much more as to what went on and what I am dealing with... but back then I read about similar situations online and only found negative stories about being housebound. Thank you God my situation turned out better than I feared, but I definitely may have a slight case of PTSD thanks to that awful complication and all of its involved pain and fear.

Not only that but birthing without an epidural or intrathecal was absolute torture for me. I think I screamed every other minute FOR AN ENTIRE MINUTE for THREE FREAKING HOURS. I HAVE NEVER HATED A PERSON SO MUCH as I hated the doctor when he told me I was progressing too fast to get the intrathecal.

And in the weeks following birth, I just didn't do so great. Although I loved my new darling so much, I was constantly filled with fear about my bodily health (the botched episiotomy) situation and having to spend hours in the bathroom with herbs and sitz baths. It's worse than you can imagine. I was one of 3 women that my doctor had seen with such an issue, after 35 years of practice. I am SOOOOO BLESSED that things ended up healing better than I initially was told they could. Art went back to work and I actually didn't have that much help after the first week. Thank God someone from my family came out once a week or so and so did Art's mom, to help in the mornings. Let's just say bearing a child turned my world around in WAY MORE WAYS than I even knew possible. My hormones raged with sorrow, beauty, loss, and even a sense of doom. No one had warned me of it! Not ONE PERSON had warned me of postpartum hormones and PPD and PP Anxiety disorders! I thought for sure I wouldn't encounter such miseries!!! How wrong I was.


And that's where I sort of can begin my story.
"Aching muscles, memory lapses or loss, depression, hallucinations, headaches, increased blood pressure, increased stress hormone levels, hand tremors.."

The effects of sleep deprivation. What stands out to me is hallucinations and loss of memory. No wonder the last 3 weeks have seemed like a half-dream.

*PART ONE*  Rock-bottom.

I'm guessing that's where I was at, for me, at least. Friday night February 1st. Three weeks plus into having a newborn, three weeks plus into finding out that I have a rare birth complication requiring surgery to patch up my episiotomy and other nearby situations, three weeks into my whole life seeming like an entirely different life than it was four weeks ago. And there it was... rock-bottom. I had felt the tears of post-partum, the genuine bright necessity of a wonderful friend and family support system, the occasional bouts of hope and optimism, and the darkness of my health issue situation. But combining all the emotions and physical hardship with total lack of sleep and I was no longer human. I was part monster.

I knew going into having a baby that the sleep situation can be more than difficult. I hoped to God that somehow I would be one of the lucky ones. And in a way, I am. My baby sleeps for good solid chunks from 2-4 hours. Occasionally even 5 hours. So between midnight and noon I can often get 7-8 hours of sleep if you combine the chunks. It takes longer to get that amount of sleep, but in between at least I can say I am nourishing and tending to an innocent sweet new being in the world, and helping to keep him thriving and alive. Thinking of it in those terms, it's totally worth it. But I also am a person that has a terrible time with less than 6 hours of sleep. I don't mind if it's broken up, but I need the amount. I can get by on one night of 4 hours, provided the next night is 7 or 8 again. But give me less than that, and I start to lose my wits, COMPLETELY. So a 4 hour night followed by a 1 hour night of sleep gave me very little to go on. Anyhow, enough about my dumb sleep needs. I'm just trying to illustrate how the monster came about.

So picture this: 4 in the morning the night after my night of 1 hour sleep. My baby will not go to sleep. He eats, he ALMOST sleeps, he wakes, he cries. My sweet Arthie has to get up at 7:30 am so I have total baby duty. My body is collapsing upon itself. I cannot describe the pain of the exhaustion and then my eyes closing. And then the cry of my baby reminding me I cannot go to dreamland. It was the 3rd time over the course of 4 hours that I had got him to sleep only to have him wake up again crying. It was then that I lost it. I wailed out in deep throaty scream-cries of tears and desperation. I cried as my baby cried, our cries echoing thru the dark house, but Art still not waking (he can sleep through anything). And then my desperation turned to anger. Not towards my baby but towards everything. Towards Art having to work. Towards schedules in general. Towards living in a different town than my family. The anger started to tremor thru my body. I marched into Art's room, screaming that I couldn't do it. That I wanted to leave. That I didn't know what else I could do... That I needed help. All the while bawling. A raw picture, I know, but there she was, a raging monster-mama inside of me. It seriously was horrible. Art awoke and was taken aback. I was out of control. I will leave it at that and to say the monstrosity continued for a while, all hell escalating... because writing all this brings tears back to my eyes. I am so ashamed I even got to this point. But it made some things very very clear. I NEEDED HELP, and I NEEDED to sleep. I want to paint an honest picture here, because I know so many new mamas probably get to similar points and just try to keep quiet about it. I don't know if holding it all in really helps anyone else or yourself.

After the melt-down, I ended up giving my baby 2 ounces of formula. It was the first time I had, and I felt terribly guilty about it. The night before my sister and I had finally (after 3 weeks of him screaming all the time) figured out that my baby was actually very very hungry, and that I am one of the 5% of women who have problems breast-feeding due to actual low supply. Of course lactation consultants unite to tell you it's "all in your mind", to "try harder", to do a million different tactics to keep baby from screaming at the breast, but when it comes down to a hungry baby not getting any milk... there's not much else you can do besides TRY to increase your supply over a few days and quell his hunger in the meantime. My sister, being a breastfeeding mama herself, was able to do that the night she was over, but alone at 4am I realized I was gonna have to break down and give him formula if I ever wanted to sleep. And HOW he gulped it down. And then how he slept. But after my monstrosity and rock-bottom I could no longer sleep. I felt terrible terrible terrible like a drug addict mama like a bad bad person. My heart raced, my mind raced. When Art woke again for work at 7 am, I still hadn't slept. I was in my own personal hell. After he left, my baby woke again and I gave him my breast and he went back to sleep. I finally slept too, for an hour and a half. And I also texted my sis and told her what had happened, a brief note about how terrible it was and I was.

That afternoon Heather called me and asked if I needed to come to Placerville for a respite. I was in the midst of just crying and crying. I'd been wearing the same pajamas for two days. I was miserable. Another dear friend, Rebecca also called and asked me if I needed her. I could hardly answer either of them. So they took matters into their own hands and told me that Rebecca was coming to pick up me and my baby and take us to Placerville so that they could soothe us both and I could sleep. Deep down in my soul, I knew it had to happen. Even with my bathroom equipment (I need special gear now every time I go to the bathroom)... I knew I should just put it all in a bag and go. Pack mine and Utah's things and go. I texted Art at work that I was going. I felt absolutely anxious, nervous, torn up about it. As thought it were some life or death situation. I felt bad for leaving Art and my cats, but also mad that Art would get a night free from the chaos. I felt like there was no way I could manage another night on my own with the baby (no Art) but my sister called again and told me "We'll take the baby and take care of him, and you can just sleep and sleep". Nothing ever sounded so good.

Sweet Rebecca showed up with food and treats and her awesome son Sylvan. I was in absolute disarray, ashamed to be seen in my condition, but also not really caring. Art got home from work and helped with the baby while I took a quick shower, packed bags, and got ready to leave. My heart was RACING with anxiety about leaving. I honestly felt INSANE about the whole thing. I kept panicking that my baby was already asleep which meant I needed to sleep too but wasn't. I was PANICKING about sleep and about leaving. As though leaving would burn down my house or cause me to die. Little did I know how much the opposite.

PART TWO *Respite*

One awesome thing about little Utah so far is how much he likes the car seat and driving. He falls peacefully asleep. Rebecca and Sylvan loaded our things and Utah into the car and I climbed in to their SUV beside him in the back seat. I told Rebecc I was going to try to sleep. As we drove through the town of Grass Valley the tiny lights of gas stations and homes and fast food places looked surreal and neon, like distant fairy lights. I felt like a five year old myself, in the back of the parents car on a long road trip to somewhere nice, sleepy in the night. I actually did sleep for fifteen or twenty minutes, with a pillow lodged behind my head, sinking towards the car seat. I felt strong, for some weird reason, and alone, but comforted by the knowledge of great goodness and kindness of my wonderful friends and family. I also felt dead to the world, like an almost lifeless ragdoll. My sweet baby sleeping next to me reminding me of how alive I needed to be but also reminding me of Heather's promise of sleep to me. I've never wanted anything so badly in all my life, I swear it. Around the descent into the canyon, also seeming ghostly and haunting- silhouettes of pines and the light of the river under the moon- I spoke quietly with Sylvan and Rebecca. They had been absolutely quiet until that point, trying to let me rest.
We spoke quietly til our arrival in Placerville.

We got to Placerville and my things were brought in with ease by Sylvan and Rebecca and Heather. As I walked into her home I felt relief flood over me. Her living room seemed alive with color and peacefulness. Bob Dylan was playing on the record player, not too loud, not too soft. My family was all there, or a bunch of them, my sister-in-law, my little brother, my sweet Lucy niece baby, Heather, my dad, my brother-in-law. The gathering of them along with Rebecca and Sylvan in the same house seemed HEAVENLY. I cannot describe the warmth they all exuded of togetherness, of strength, of willingness to help us (me and Ute), of family. Heather took me to my room I would be staying in which was actually THEIR room (her and her baby's and her husband's) which they had kindly given over to me. It was glowing and warm and beautiful. The bed practically shined. Colorful quilts and hanging glowy lights and clean things and warm cats. I was overwhelmed with sweetness. Then they brought little Utah to me to nurse, best I could. I did. And then Heather, sweet sweet wonderful-with-babies-Heather finished him off when he showed how hungry he still was. I will never forget her lying him in Lucy's crib afterwards, and his big peaceful eyes looking up at us all, with a look of the satisfaction of hunger having been met. His needs having been quelled. His peace having been found. There we all looked down at him, Heather, Emily, myself, Joey. My sweet sweet new baby who I had been so rough around the night before. I hadn't been rough to him, but near him. In my house, my screams that had shaken the whole walls. I felt so awfully terrible, and I cried and cried. I cried so much in that bedroom with my sweet family, thanking them again and again, and remembering my breakdown the night before with shame and sorrow.

But Rebecca brought me snacks of berries and nuts and they brought me pizza and told me to eat eat eat for my breastmilk supply. No lactation consultants had even mentioned how important that was yet! Even after I'd told then of my birth complications they just kept acting like no matter how exhausted or no-appetite you were your body would just make abundant milk. I will probably hold life long resentment against lactation consultants, acting as though my bodily health and stress and nutrition and sleep should not affect my supply whatsoever! Acting as though I was being selfish to even wonder of it!!! I actually ended up with a very sweet kind lactation consultant from WIC, she never questioned me or my supply issues. It was the higher-ups, the lactation "GURUS", WHO HAD BEEN SO WRONG.

And then Heather said- "Don't worry about a thing, he seems very sleepy. You- GO TO SLEEP."

(I am picking this post up from months down the line just to tie these ends together- it's now May 27th)

And sleep I did. I slept in the comfort of Heather's lovely soft colorful bed, with her twinkly lights cozy above me. Woody the cat would wake every once and awhile and shift positions. He would stay exactly where he was seated right next to me, but just turn three points clockwise. I smiled to myself at his sweetness and catness. I woke at midnight and my baby had too, and they brought him in to me to nurse again. And then sleep again we did. This time, next to each other. Him in the bed with me. And there I slept and woke to feed, slept and woke to feed until 10 am. And I felt amazing by that point.

I would like to report that after this rock-bottom there were no other hangups or obstacles or bumps in the road. But that would be far from the truth. Instead there were many more sleepless nights, much of which, later at 6 weeks, was my own problem with insomnia and postpartum anxiety and had nothing to do with my baby. I got sick at least twice totaling a month of my time. Worse, my baby got pneumonia before he was 3 months and we ended up in the ICU for 4 nights. Thank Jesus Lord that since then the days and nights have settled and my hormones have somewhat as well. I feel as though my brush with PPD was WAY too close of an encounter. One child will be enough for me, thank you. ANd truly, it isn't him, it's me.

I have to believe that my hormones went ABSOLUTELY CHAOS HAYWIRE after I had my baby. Pregnancy was a breeze for me. If pregnancy was all that was involved, I would have 3 more kids. But the birth itself and postpartum hormones for me have been hell. I'm not gonna hide it or cover the sheer awfulness of it. I'm a wreck "down there". Hell, if I ever get a divorce I guess I can expect to be single the rest of my life as I am now somewhat of a freak. Here I write at 4.5 months postpartum... and I still battle anxiety and night sweats and insomnia. But I can take things much more lightly these days (most of the time).

This week has been good. I feel replenished and normal and I have slept wonderfully.

2012 love/ 2013 dreaming

Well, now that it's been ABOUT A YEAR since I last wrote, I thought I'd throw something out there. And sorry, hang on to your hats, this is a LONG SOMETHING!!! Though I dearly love writing, blogging is hard for me. Not terrible, but difficult. It's time consuming and uploading all those photos is a total pain in the butt! Anyone else agree? It takes FOREVER. Plus, being a perfectionist doesn't help. I'll edit text and then publish and then re-edit and publish again, and I'll do the same times one hundred on photos! I'm hoping my post today doesn't take all afternoon! (update: it is.) So for those reasons and excuses I just never really get around to it, it's usually an all day affair.

Part One: The Haps
I adore living in our big, rambling, home by Deer Creek in Nevada City. We've had so much fun here and made the place ours all the way. Last year we had three noteworthy, grand parties. An Old West party, a Halloween bash, complete with strangers in costume who came and left and no one ever knew who they were, and a sweet little Christmas cocktail party with recipes from the finest bars in the US of A. Also last year in October my family found out that my wonderful sister, Heather of Moonshine Junkyard, was pregnant! Something she had longed for! So 2012 has brought new excitement, travels, coziness, and big big changes! I'm less of a party-gal than I was last year, that is FOR SURE. From the beginning of the year I could feel myself nestling in, wanting more time to chill and do homework and NOT have a hangover, like ever. I started hating them so so much. I stayed in and bunkered down a lot more than I have in forever.... and what do ya know, sometime in April, I GOT knocked up too !!!! :) It is my wildest dream to be pregnant at the same time as my sister, as well as to have all the adventurous times and windswept ways of my 20's and early 30's behind me in the form of wisdoms and memories. I am so so excited to be an older(ish) Mama. SO excited.

But before I embark on that wonderful exciting new sitch, here are a few views from my times of 2012 thus far.

In January my sis and my Dad and I went on another  Utah road trip to see my dear brother and his family and visit the beloved canyons, arches, and strange formations.

We hiked to Corona Arch outside of Moab on a cold beautiful January day. The next day we braved even colder weather and traveled to Goblin Valley State Park, a must-see during the lifetime of anyone with a beating heart.

For Valentine's Day, Art and I went to our fave hotel & casino- the Peppermill- to do a little gambling in Reno! We sort of LOVE gambling once in a while.

On February 22nd, my wonderful Grandma Georgie turned 100 and I got to see so many family members I've not seen in ages.

My grandma has 108 descendants, and she was an only child. That doesn't include the ones on the way! I find that mindblowing to think about. If her parents had never had her.... well, there would be a great shortage of Beattys!

In March Art and I helped our friend Kira (check out her music!) move to Portland and in turn we got to finally explore the city together and stay a few nights! We also got to see the very gracious Alela (check out her music!) and bunk at her beautiful bungalow home in the heart of all the PDX, complete with a little guest quarter. 

The Portland bus system is rad. It is SUPER easy to figure out, especially with a cheat sheet (Iphone).

Of course a Stumptown stop and a Voodoo Donut stop were necessary.

Alela, below, at the awesome breakfast joint Junior's with us.

Alela's home has little surprises everywhere. It's the kind of home you want to sink into, that you immediately feel comfortable and yet enchanted with. She collects tiny furniture, and there are miniature versions of bathrooms, victorian chairs, and tiny tables placed in careful, hidden places.

Ummmm, shopping in Portland is kind of dangerous.

So.... I'm thinking Portland might actually be "hipper" than Los Angeles these days. Like by a long shot. If you end up there anytime soon, I highly suggest trying out this amazing little hipster taqueria called Porque No? It's hipster, but not in the stand-offish vibe at all. You can get the healthiest taco bowls and tacos with seasonal (think brussel sprouts in winter) steamed veggies and cilantro sauces and rice if you want it. Ah heck, here's their website so you can take a look at their cheap, mouth watering menu and get your own idea about it. Also, the place is decorated like my dream restaurant. Talk about glitter and Catholic lore and turquoise and weird old 60's vintage hangy stuff to the max.

We had such a great time in those few days. There is totally a Nevada City CLAN living up there. We went to a birthday party for our friend Neal Morgan (please see his music as well), and there was a roomful of us! 

We always love to get a drink at the airport on the way out!

Because Portland was so awesome and inspiring in some very artful ways, and because I'm studying graphic design, I took a tour of Nevada City's very own Full Circle Press when I got home. My friend Briana works there and gave me a personal tour. I got a bit obsessed with all things letterpress!

Part 2:

Other Tidbits

Spring came. With all its green glory.

I was busy busy in my 4th semester of school, full time. It started out as such an easy breezy semester and ended up like being thrown into the homework fires of Hell. Despite having to be glued to the computer and sitting on my butt (uggh!) I maintained my running routine and occasionally took photos (bottom right of last collage) of the beautiful countryside I get to run through. And sometimes I see snakes too!

I also gained a new sister! When Emily wed my youngest brother Joseph Charles! She was the most gorgeous bride ever. A few pics from the gals getting ready below.

A dear new friend that had been staying in Nevada City for about a year had to return to her native lands of Norway, her Visa time was all used up. We took a trip to Reno for a goodbye party and celebrated the sadness with good cheer. But I do hope she makes it back for the end of the year! She really liked it here, despite it being a small town that can run out of romantic options for the single ladies....

And THAT'S about the time I found out I was preggers! Right around Mother's Day. I literally took ELEVEN tests over the course of a week. I took the first test four days before my period, because there was this particular moment during the month that had made it SEMI-possible, like BARELY possible,  and even with those kinds of dismal chances I start thinking every little quirk is a symptom. So I only took the test to ease my mind so that the end of my cycle would be less the obsess! ( I am WAY too good at obsessing about things)... I truly thought there was NO chance, but I just wanted to turn my secret-OCD brain off. So you seriously can't imagine my surprise when two lines came up. It honestly seemed kind of impossible, given all the other months we'd tried a year before with all the timing perfect and whatnot. I thought for sure it was a fluke, a misunderstanding between my eyes and I. Until I took test, after test, after test. Three a day to start, then down to two, then one a day. And even then it took so long to sink in!

Part 3:
Tiny one in m' belly
So. Being pregnant. It's been hard to believe even after the eleven tests! Art and I went camping the 3rd week in June to the vast deserts and he got to witness Zion National Park and Bryce Canyon National Park and I swear to you I felt so good hiking and camping in the 100 degree heat, I could have sworn I somehow was no longer pregnant. It was a bit scary even, but I tried to be very positive and we had a blast!

 I never really got sick in the first place, just a bit of quease from things that normally wouldn't make me queasy, or feeling funny (and yucky) after eating... other than that I had a really easy first few weeks. But on our camping trip all signs of being pregnant went ADIOS! I felt terrific. I could eat everything we planned on our menu, hiking was awesome, and I wasn't queasy at all! I just got lucky I suppose :) That was at 10 weeks in.

The day after we returned was my first visit to the doctor.
She found the heartbeat within seconds. I couldn't believe it, tears filled my eyes. The sweet little one inside me was just being easygoing! Everything was fine and dandy.

A couple weeks later I had a nuchal translucency ultrasound. Here is what Art and I saw.
13 weeks along.

And here I am a couple days ago. Maybe a bit more of belly, but my clothes all fit and I'm thinking I'm not gonna see big changes for a month or so still!

So there's one of the longest blog posts ever. I sure hope I can write another, maybe even one with just more Southern Utah canyon details and photos, before next YEAR! In the meantime, I'm pretty sure I've got a niece to see being born here any minute!

Love to y'all.......
Adie