One year ago today...a birth story.

From my journal one year ago today:

Annabel Faith Snyder. 

Wow. I am still in shock and overwhelmed. I am in awe and my praise goes to you, o Lord. You sustained me when I could do it no longer. You gave me strength when I had none. Vision and endurance when I could not see the end. Thank you, Lord, God. For bringing me through it.

Let me just say, this is probably one of the hardest things, if not the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. And for the record, I don't want to give birth again! :) It's so hard!! 

4/30, 8 pm-ish I started feeling regular contractions. Earlier that morning the non stress test results were good, so even though I'm overdue, baby girl is doing fine! By 3 am the contractions were 5 to 6 minutes apart, lasting anywhere from 45-60 seconds. At 5 am I called my midwife and she told me to go into the hospital.  I had planned a water birth at St. Joseph's. But when we got there, the tub was not operational and all the newly renovated rooms in the birthing center were occupied! So...no water birth, no new room, and being far from my midwife's office were enough strikes to make us drive to Bromenn Medical Center (just another 10 minutes away). We arrived about 7:30am and I was in the birthing tub by about 8:15. I was 7cm dilated and smiling.  

The water felt GREAT. Then it got hot. Then I got tired from managing the contractions and keeping my head above the water. By about 10 am I was done with the tub and ready for a change of scenery. I wasn't smiling anymore, in pretty bad shape, and I told the nurse I would deliver in the room and not the tub! And by the way, I knew this nurse from Mom2Mom!

They checked me and I had just a little bit left to go to reach 10 cm. After some final excruciating contractions, Annabel arrived at 10:57 am. She was 7 lbs. 5 oz. and 20.5 inches long. She was...words cannot explain.

I have to admit, reading this entry today makes me laugh, especially the part about not wanting to go through childbirth again. That's because I said the EXACT same thing after Kate was born.

Her doctor's visit isn't until tomorrow, so I don't have any stats. But she is beginning to walk a few steps at a time (eight steps for grandma yesterday!). After her ear tubes were put in two months ago she has begun to sleep better too, but still wakes up about once each night. Craziest thing of all...she is STILL nursing. I never thought I would make it to a year especially since Ethan and Kate were done with me by about 9 months. This is an answer to prayer for me! I suppose my prayer now will be, "How do I wean her???"

Annabel, you have been such a joy and blessing to us. Happy Birthday, baby girl!

Ethan is 7 !

Seven years. I can't believe how quickly that time has passed.

In the past twenty minutes I have typed, erased, retyped, erased several sentences...it seems I can't even put into words how I feel, but yet I feel the need to record as much as I can. I have the worst memory, but everyday is filled with wonderful treasures...ones that I wish I would never forget.

Ethan is an amazing boy...smart, funny, high energy, imaginative, creative. He never ceases to amaze me with what he can make, whether it be out of Legos, or out of paper, scotch tape and markers.

Ethan can understand humor and jokes now...sometimes he and I laugh at life together.

He's tall (like his dad), and he stands just a few inches below my shoulder.

He's a responsible older brother and looks out for his two younger sisters. He keeps Kate in line (yikes), and makes sure baby Annabel doesn't eat anything she's not supposed to!

He likes to read and make things. He also keeps asking me for a Nintendo DS! In the meantime, he is wicked good at Rayman Jungle Run on my iPad.

Peanut butter and jelly, pepperoni pizza, and Oreo cookies are some of his favorite foods.

He is a creature of habit, like his dad. He gets a bit bent out of shape if we alter his routine.

He is vocal, like his mom. He expresses EVERYTHING with words.

I should mention that today is also Easter Sunday. For the past several weeks, Ethan has been talking about getting baptized on this day. What a cool thing! We've been careful to not jump the gun here (and no, he did not get baptized today), but the spiritual talks we've had have been inspiring. From a young age, he has asked questions about life and death ("what happens when we die?"). Star Wars has prompted discussions about good and evil (thank you, Anakin Skywalker). We can tell that he senses the tension between the two, and his desire to do what's right usually outweighs his desire to do what he wants to do (but not always). He has also shared with us that he has asked Jesus to "come into his heart."

Wow.

We are so blessed by Ethan. I can't wait to see what God has in store for him.

Happy Birthday, Ethan!

Four Years

It doesn't seem very long ago that Kate was learning to walk. Today she runs...fast and hard! Who knew that she would turn out to be such a spitfire! Definitely all girl with her emotional outbursts, unique "fashion sense", and love for anything sparkly, but surprisingly tomboyish as she runs, digs in the dirt and roars ferociously with wild eyes as she plays. Crazy girl. Lovable girl.

Some of her favorite things:

• tight pants
• pistachio nuts
• nail polish
• sucking her thumb (ugh, I know...)
• kettle brand salt and pepper chips
• brushing Barbie's hair
• headbands
• Dancing with the Stars

This picture was taken on her actual birthday, October 2nd. Look at how she stands...triumphant, proud, striking a pose. This is SO her! And in most things, she approaches them confidently, unabashedly, enthusiastically. She's game for just about anything (except for her 4 year old immunizations today. Let's just say it took three adults to hold her down and administer the shots). I have to say--and David would agree-- that although she looks more like his side of the family, she has a lot of my characteristics.

This could be a problem come junior high.

Happy Birthday, Kate the Great! We love you :)

Labor Day 2012

Today we went to our favorite outdoor spot...Starved Rock State Park. We have had a ton of rain the past few days and we were hoping the waterfalls would be overflowing with water. Sadly, they were not. But that did not prevent us from enjoying the hike nonetheless.

I think one of my favorite memories of this summer would be the elusive jellybean bush we discovered today. David spotted one...

And the children enjoyed the fruits of his labor! It was a long hike, so lucky for us we found LOTS of jellybean bushes along the way. When Kate suggested we look for M&M bushes we told her that sadly, those weren't in season :) 

I think Annabel enjoyed the hike as much as I did...

And she got pretty worn out, just like I did!

Why God Doesn't Appear to Answer Prayer

Parenthood is chock full of God lessons.

Tonight, my five year old gave me a glimpse of what it must be like for God to hear me when I'm at my worst. My husband summarized the incident well on his latest Facebook post. He writes:

I'm sitting at the computer writing this...all of the following is being said by my defiant 5 year old son to me as I'm sitting 10 ft away with my arms open wide(literally) ready to receive him...

"Help me I'm hurting!"

"Ow!"

"I want you to come here!"

"Why isn't my daddy helping me?"

"Dad you are breaking my heart"

"Dad would you come here please?"

" Why isn't anyone helping me?"

" I'm tired!"

"I want daddy to come over here"

"Help myself!"

"This is the bad day ever!

"I never get my way!"

"What is wrong with my father...I want him to come here...I wish he could!"

"This is the worst day!"

"Do what I say!"

"I wish dad did what  I said!"

At no time did he direct his comments to me, but always to some "generic" dad...remember, I'm 10 ft away inviting him to come to me.

You see he didn't want me...my son wanted to feel better about himself and go on with his life...without asking for my forgiveness.  Before you say..."what an awful dad"...here's the back story.  10 minutes earlier Ethan had been very rude and disrespecful to me disobeying what I had asked him to do.  I told him he needed to say he was sorry to me for speaking to me like that...he refused.  I told him when he was ready, I would be waiting for his apology...then the above rant began.

There's a spiritual lesson here for all of us I think. We so often are unwilling to come to our Holy father for help because we really aren't willing to admit we need his help and his forgiveness. BTW, the more I invited him to come to me...the more defiant he became.  He who has ears to hear...

And the lesson for me, his mom? It's not enough that I cry out to God to change something in my life. God wants us to COME to him, SUBMIT to him, and in the brokenness of our lives admit that we are wrong. So The next time I become frustrated by God's seeming lack of response to my prayers, I'll stop and examine my heart. Chances are I will see some defiance and pride holding me back from my Father's arms.

The Popsicle Challenge

I think we might have created a monster.

I was pulling into the garage after picking Ethan up from preschool the other day when he said to me, "Mom, you know what we had for snack at school today? Popsicles."

"Wow," I replied, thinking how yummy that must have been on a hot, sunny day. "Popsicles, huh?"

"Yeah," he said. "But I didn't have one."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because that's junk food," he replied. My eyes opened up in surprise. After a loaded pause, he ventured, "But I really wanted one."

A brief moment of pride came over me (what five year old could demonstrate such self discipline and self denial?). But I noticed a slight tremble in the words he said. As I looked in the rear view mirror, I soon discovered that my son's eyes had welled up with tears, though he was working hard to fight them back.

Honestly, I was confused and torn. On the one hand I felt proud that our lessons on healthy eating were sinking in, and that my son had learned to say "no" (think peer pressure in high school). On the other hand, I was heartbroken that he had missed out on what must have been a real treat on the playground that morning. I imagined all those happy little faces savoring the icy cool fruit flavors. But Ethan? What was he doing? Did he distract himself with the sand box? Or did he sit amongst his friends, watch them eat, wishing in his heart he could have one too? From the tears in his eyes, I concluded it was the latter. I got out of the car and quickly told Ethan to come to me, and I stood there just embracing him. (Poor Kate was still buckled up, wondering what was going on :) And I promised him popsicles after dinner that night.

This wasn't the first time he refused something sweet. On many days we have the same conversation: "Mom, do you know what we had for snack today?" And he'll tell me it was cookies, or fruit loops, cupcakes or sugared graham crackers, all of which he refuses. But today, for some reason, I wish that he hadn't.

I suppose it's our fault. It began about a year ago when Ethan was then four years old and promoted to move up to the next Sunday school class at church. That first day we picked him up, he had a large tootsie roll in his hand. A "welcome-to-your-new-Sunday-school-class" treat, we assumed. The next week, he received another piece of candy. Since we had worked really hard the first few years of his life to limit sugar and candy, we didn't want all our efforts to be thwarted. Having a terrible sweet tooth myself, I know how hard it can be to keep from over-indulging. While we soon learned that this candy was used as a reward for good (quiet) behavior, we still felt that candy should be reserved for special occasions or special rewards. Church is not a special occasion. It is a way of life for us. After a couple of weeks, we told Ethan that if his Sunday school teacher offers him candy he should politely say "no thank you". Our reasons? Candy is junk food, and junk food isn't good for you (Ha...believe me, we eat our fair share of happy meals and ice cream).

Fast forward a year and he denies himself all sweets unless it comes from us or we say it's okay. I'm mostly glad about this, because I'm really adamant about my kids eating healthy snacks and well balanced meals (don't worry...we DO get our sweets in).. But to see THIS kind of self-denial turn into a sort of blind legalism made me sad. He had denied himself some fun.

We have since told Ethan that if it is snack time at school, and it happens to be a sweet snack, it's okay to have it. After all, there are five hours between when he has breakfast and lunch, and we don't want him to get hungry (don't get me started on what schools feed our children. That's a whole other post). While for now this practical approach works, I wonder how I will teach him the more subtle lesson of seeing the big picture. When do we follow the rules, and when do we make exceptions in order to fulfill the intent of those rules? How do I teach him not only the letter of the law, but the spirit of the law? How do I teach discernment?

You Are What You Eat

Yesterday during the kids' nap time I watched a documentary I had meaning to see for a while called "Food Matters". This film presents the idea that food can be your medicine (to quote Hippocrates), and that the staggering number of people suffering from chronic pain and heart disease, even cancer, can be attributed to the nutrient deficient diet of most Americans today.

I have never considered myself a big proponent of vitamin supplements or eating organic. However, the simple message of the film was easy to understand and digest, and quite frankly, spurred me on to think about what changes I can make in our diet. After all, I'm the one feeding my family! I know, I know...more fruits and vegetables. Fresh food, not processed food. Whole wheat and whole grain products. Here's the kicker: RAW food, since cooking food breaks down its many nutrients and natural enzymes. And by raw food, I'm referring to raw fruits and veggies. Obviously, we're not going to be eating raw meat! (Sushi, anyone?)

Sigh. What's a mom to do? My kids don't like vegetables much, my hubby can't stand the "cardboard taste" of whole wheat products. And I'm sorry...organic products are PRICEY!

In any case...it's all food for thought (No pun intended).

When?

Normally I don't have time to sit down and just type. But this morning, with my son at preschool and my daughter sick on the couch, I have plenty of time to just sit and think. And worry. When will this little girl get better? When will she be able to get a good night's rest, uninterrupted by bouts of coughing and fever-induced delirium? When will my back recover from 5 days of carrying 30lbs of toddler from one room to another because she just needs to feel comforted?

I'm tired, folks.

God has done the miraculous, though, as is His custom. I've been housebound for a week and haven't lost my marbles. My normally restless son has been very content to color a picture, imagine spaceships out of legos, role-play flying superheroes running back and forth through the living room. Not once has he complained of my unavailable arms and attention. That can only be a God thing, because let me tell you, that is NOT like him at all!

So, I'm tired. But I'm grateful, too.

My Year in Status

Summarizing my year according to Facebook...

For you, Mom

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Homesick

A few weeks ago I went to my local Sears store to return a recent purchase. It was first thing in the morning, so the store was still quiet, almost empty. As I approached the customer service desk I noticed the woman working the counter was not white. Not only was she not white, she looked Asian. As we greeted each other, it became apparent that she was Filipino. I could hear it in her voice. Though hard to hear at first, her light accent was unmistakable. I don't often meet other "pinoys" in my town, though I know there is a considerable Filipino contigency here in Central Illinois. I just usually never meet them.

There are one of two things that can happen when two Filipinos meet: they can either acknowledge that they are both Filipino. Or they can ignore their common thread altogether and remain two strangers in what could be a moment of connection. We chose the latter.

As I walked away I could only think that hearing her voice made me feel like I was home. It's a distinct rhythm and lilt that characterizes the Filipino speaking English as a second language, and Tagalog is definitely a distinct language of its own. Hearing her voice instantly brought me back to the large family gatherings at my Auntie Sylvia's house where on any given holiday or special occasion you'd walk in the door and be engulfed with the fragrant cooking and language that still surrounds who my family is today.

It's a strange thing. Sometimes I forget who I am. I am a first generation Filipino-American, and as such I have had one foot here, one foot there in two different worlds for a good part of my life. However, I've been steeped in white, American culture for so long, that I forget about this whole other side of me. And in one brief exchange at a Sears counter it all came flooding back.

I've spent a good deal of my life wishing I was someone else and striving to become something I will never be. Not because it was something to be desired, but because my "otherness" was always so apparent it was hard to feel accepted. You cannot hide skin color, nor can you easily hide socio-economic status or background. And perhaps this was all self-inflicted paranoia stemming from the hyper sensitive lens of an adolescent. I was, after all, a minority in a sea of pretty, rich, white girls. But now, nearly twenty years later, many things remind me of that "otherness", that "I'm not like you", or "we don't have that in common". But it's not about skin color anymore, just about other things.

Maybe I haven't really grown up at all. Maybe I'm still that insecure adolescent who felt infinitely different than everyone else around her. Or maybe I've just been in the Midwest for too long.

Happy 5th Anniversary

June 5th marked 5 years of marital bliss! To celebrate, we got a babysitter to watch the kids while we took a picnic lunch to a nearby state park and spent the afternoon biking and canoeing...

We couldn't believe how wonderful it was to be alone! And quiet! It was a refreshing two hours of just us and nature. We decided that this should be our annual anniversary celebration. It costs practically nothing, and being outdoors is probably the one thing David and I really do like to do together!

It's been a wonderful five years of marriage. And it's just the beginning, I know! I wonder what lies ahead.

Sent From Above

I like to think that God sends me little gifts.

Yesterday, still recovering from whatever cold/sore throat I had, I needed to go to Walmart to do some grocery shopping. Though I woke up, with a foggy, dull headache I needed to get some food since our fridge and cupboards were bare! David was done with classes and so he was able to stay home with the kids. I quickly got myself into the car for an hour or so of "me" time (if you can call grocery shopping without the kids "me" time!).

As I was standing in the dairy aisle contemplating what butter to buy, blowing my runny nose and rubbing my dry, itchy eyes, an old man further down the aisle said to me smiling, "I saw you yawning just a few minutes ago back over there. Rough night?" I chuckled and proceeded to tell him that I was sick, and my 7 month old was sick, so we were both up several times the previous night.

Such a little thing to strike up a conversation. I would never believe it, but it's so true about that whole "smile" thing, and how it's a wonderful gift to receive. This old grandpa began to share a little bit about his children and grandchildren, and after those ten minutes I had laughed, connected with a generation so far removed from me, and walked away forgetting that I even had a headache.

Thanks, God, for lifting my spirits and making me feel better!