I hadn’t realized how nervous I was feeling about Sage’s MRI until I woke up in the night to nurse her and couldn’t get back to sleep afterwards. I just stared at her as she slept beside me. I knew an MRI was the next step we needed to take, but the thought of my baby under general anesthesia of course made me nervous.

In the morning before we left I was a flurry of nervous mommy energy, darting this way and that as I tried to get us out the door. I felt so grateful that my in-laws had taken Thad the night before (his first ever sleep over) and I didn’t have to deal with a two year old along with everything else. There have been so many moments lately when I send up silent thoughts of gratitude that we now live close to family for this season of our lives.

And then we arrived at Seattle Children’s.

And again I said a quick prayer of gratitude that we live where we do. We always had pretty positive experiences with medical things in Prague, and felt well taken care of the few times we went to Prague hospitals for various reasons. But, there is something unimaginably calming when you walk nervously into a hospital building and are quickly greeted by people and signs that speak your language. There was no guess work, there was no translating. Sigh of relief.
But, Seattle children’s wasn’t just a good hospital experience because it was in English. I felt like it was a good hospital experience compared with others in the states as well. Everything was very well organized and structured, the building was clean and even beautiful in places. You could tell things had been well thought through. And well thought though with kids in mind. For example, this was the fun, inviting playground outside our window.

Most of all though, everyone was just so friendly. People smiled and greeted us in the halls and asked if we needed help finding anything (that never happened in Prague hospitals). The doctors working with us really wanted to put us at ease. The anesthesiologist talked with us for quite a while, answering our questions, explaining what they would do, and even sharing stories about his own kids to help put us at ease. They were all very understanding and helpful.

When it came time they brought us and Sage to a prep area. We were able to hold her hand and be with her as they put her under. It was amazing to me how quickly she fell asleep. She looked so peaceful and still. We both gave her a kiss and then went up to Starbucks to wait.

We got back to our room about forty minutes after we left her and waited for them to bring her back in, which wasn’t very long. When she got back she had a breathing tube in her nose. They had her hooked up to a machine to monitor her heart rate and all that. They took her temperature and did a heel prick to check her blood sugar. Everything looked good. She looked so small alone in the little bed. She shivered, we tucked the blanket closer around her. She looked beautiful.

They told us that as soon as she woke up we could hold her and I could nurse her. We waited. They said she should wake up soon. We waited. An hour went by. We waited. That period of waiting for her to wake up was probably the hardest for me. I was glad for the equipment monitoring her and that the doctors regularly checked on her. Eventually she woke up and was starving. We cuddled and nursed.

They wanted to monitor her till 1pm. So we sat and read and cuddled and nursed. Apart from not being completely comfortable those few hours felt a little like a vacation to me. I didn’t have to do dishes, or laundry, or entertain a toddler, or listen to “mommy!mommy!” being screamed at me. Instead I got to just cuddle with my baby and talk and read with my husband for two hours. That part of the day was really nice.

Really the whole experience went as well as it possibly could have. The only negative was that we weren’t able to get an appointment with the neurologist until April. So, as of right now, we won’t know the results of the MRI until then. It’s a little frustrating to have gone through the stress of the MRI and know that there is information available about my daughters condition, but to still not know what that on formation is until April.

We were at least able to get a print out of the report and a cd of the MRI. We are thinking since we have the results we will try and see if we can get into a different neurologist to have someone interpret the results for us sooner. Or…anyone reading this know how to understand brain MRIs??

Whatever happens I find myself being continually reminded to take life one day at a time and to take this change in perceptions and expectations about my daughter one little piece of information at a time.

Rejoicing in the journey,
Bethany Stedman

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On Friday we braved the snow and slush and went to Seattle Children’s Hospital for another neurologist appointment for Sage. It was the first appointment we had about her microcephaly where the doctor didn’t say, “well, it could be nothing…” the neurologist we saw was thorough, asking a lot of questions and spending a lot of time looking at Sage, checking her reflexes and movements. He was straight forward and clear, telling us that he definitely saw enough to concern him. He told us that her head is now 2.8 deviations and that since her weight and height are on the growth chart it’s called disproportionate microcephaly. He recommended an MRI, saying that it was the best place to start figuring out what is going on and would give us some direction.

And then it happened… He told us he thought we should start having someone work with her and getting her some early therapy. Then he gave us a packet for “children with special needs” It made my head spin…”special needs” I knew Sage had microcephaly. I knew there was a chance that she would have some delays, and although I knew that label was a possibility I hadn’t really imagined it or truly thought of my child as having special needs until that moment.

It was like a reality check for me.

Suddenly I was reminded of when I took a class in college on Teaching Children with Special Needs. I remember feeling convinced during that class, with an irrational intuition, that I was going to have a child with special needs. And I remember begging God to not let that happen. Now I look at Sage and I can’t imagine asking God that I wouldn’t have her and can’t imagine having any other child. But, I still wish I knew for certain that she would be able to live a completely full functioning, “normal” life. But, I knew in that moment that wasn’t a certainty I could have. It may yet turn out that way, but there’s enough concerns that I have to come to terms with the fact that it might not.

I sat there a minute a little stunned still by the term “special needs”.

I couldn’t deny it anymore. I couldn’t justify the fact that she hasn’t met her milestones. I couldn’t keep holding on to the “well, it could be nothing” statements.

All along I have sort of known this was coming. I knew something wasn’t normal. Not in the way you know that two plus two equals four but with an intuitive sort of knowing.

When she was six weeks old I had a vivid dream within a dream where things kept threatening Sage and I had to fight for her and protect her. At the most vivid part I saw a number of wasps and hornets stinging Sage. I woke up still in the dream and preceded to dream that everything that had happened in the dream within a dream was happening in real life. It was after having this dream that I knew we had to schedule Sage’s first well visit with the pediatrician.

Maybe it’s bad for me to say it but I’m glad that we didn’t go in earlier, glad that we had those two months of ignorance, to just be with Sage, bond with her and get to know her. Being able to bond with her without the uncertainties of microcephaly hanging over our head was precious and I’m grateful for it.

But, as we sat with the neurologist I knew that the time of denial was over. It was time for a new season. Time to grow up and face my new reality. Time to do the research. Time to make the phone calls. Time to get the help. Time to do whatever we can to make sure that my special little girl can have the best life possible.

On February 2nd Sage will have an MRI of her head and spine. It will be under general anesthesia. If you pray, pray for her safety, pray that we get the best possible answers, pray that we are able to get the results back quickly (as it is right now our follow up with neurology isn’t able to be scheduled until April – we don’t want to wait that long) and pray that we have no problem getting the MRI pre-approved with our insurance.

Rejoicing in the journey,
Bethany Stedman

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Its nap time. Thad’s asleep and Sage is is also drifting in and out of consciousness. As I sit here with images from the morning dancing around in my head I’m wishing I had a reset button. I wish i could change this morning, I wish I could change almost all of the ways I’ve interacted with my son in the past twenty four hours. But, I can’t.

…But, every now and then I feel so insecure, I know that I just need you like I’ve never done before…

As I sit here I kept thinking about these two prayers I wrote when Thad was little. I just read them again and this sentence jumped out and almost screamed at me, “I need you to show me what is really required of me so that I don’t heap unneeded guilt upon my own shoulders or the shoulders of those around me.” I realized as I read these prayers how desperately I need God to infiltrate my parenting, especially in this area of guilt and the expectations I place upon myself.

Help me if you can I’m feeling down, and I do appreciate you being round.

This morning there was a moment when I hid in the bed room and cried for a minute, when I thought to myself, “I need someone to talk me off a cliff…” I almost called a friend, but it was six thirty in the morning and even though my day had started two hours earlier I knew not everyone else’s had, and besides the courage it would take to make that phone call and admit I needed help – not I had needED help, but I need help, right then and there, before sunrise kind of help…well… that’s not the kind of thing you’re really suppose to ask someone for. So, I sent up a desperate prayer, “Lord, help me.”

Help me get my feet back off the ground, won’t you please, please help me.

And slowly, quietly help came, not in the way I’d wanted but in a gentle shifting, it came.

Something sunk in for me in a new way today – the power of the present moment. I was sitting here regretting my actions of the morning, a little upset with myself that I hadn’t worked up the courage to call for help, and I realized afresh that what I was dwelling on was futile and emotionally detrimental to my health. I can’t push a reset button. I can’t change the parent I was in the past…but, I don’t have to let that influence, and even dictate, the rest of the day or the parent I’ll be in the future. I can choose to dwell on my feelings of guilt, to hold up an image of myself as “the worse mom ever”, or I can choose to reset my attitude and focus. I can’t start over, but I can start anew from this moment.

Most days I’m not who I want to be or where I want to be, but I’m realizing (slowly) that I don’t need to be. I am me, here and now, the best me I have ever been, and I am becoming.

…But, now I find I’ve changed my mind and opened up the doors.

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany Stedman

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I’ve also realized lately that both my son and I do WAY better when we have some clear structure and routine in our lives. We both like knowing what to expect. I think also with all the change we’ve had lately – a new sibling and living somewhere new every couple of months for the past year and now moving again two more times before the end of the year – more structure would help both Thaddeus and I to feel a bit more secure.

In addition to that I’ve noticed Thaddeus is really wanting and needing some more mental stimulation. He’s started to really take notice of letters. He can sing the ABC’s without missing any letters and whenever he sees the alphabet written somewhere he gets excited and says “ABC!” He loves to count and can count to ten now as well, but I’m not sure if he totally has a concept of what the numbers mean. He doesn’t recognize written numbers, but seems interested in them. I think he would really enjoy and benefit from some more active, focused learning.

So, in light of all those thoughts I’ve decided to put together a more structured schedule for us over the next few weeks and see how it goes. It’s nothing by the clock, more of a rough focus for each day with one daily structured activity and two daily outings of some sort. Here’s what I’ve come up with for this week (of course this is subject to change).

Number of the week: 1
Letter of the week: a
Word of the week: apple

Ideas for incorporating these into our lives: give him one whole apple for snack instead of apple slices and talk about how it is one apple and apple starts with a. When we play play dough make the letter and number of the week. Whenever there is 1 of anything point it out. When out and about point out words that start with ‘a’ and the number 1 when we see them. Make applesauce. Incorporate sign language by signing the word of the week whenever we talk about it.

Monday October 17:

Weekly Coloring Activity: color a cut out of the number and letter of the week & write out the word of the week to put on the fridge
Morning Outing: walk around the neighborhood
Planned Activity: colander sculptures
materials needed: colander and pipe cleaners
Afternoon Outing: library – get books about apples
Prep: freeze discovery ice block

Tuesday October 18:

Morning Outing: breakfast (w/ my sister and toddler?)
Planned Activity: edible finger paints
material: corn starch, sugar, water, food coloring, paper (or powdered milk, water, food coloring)
Afternoon Outing: park (w/ cousins?)

Wednesday October 19:

Morning Outing: (see planned activity)
Planned Activity: nature walk
materials: egg cartoon to collect things in
Afternoon Outing: go to the midwife’s and chiropractor

Thursday October 20:

Morning Outing: walk around neighborhood
Planned Activity: discovery ice block
materials: large block of ice with toys frozen in it, hammer, sponge, other utensils to hit, rub, and manipulate the ice
Afternoon Outing: play date with Melissa

Friday October 21:

Morning Outing: walk to bagel place for breakfast
Planned Activity: apple prints
materials: apples, left over edible finger paint, paper
Afternoon Outing: park (play date?)

Saturday and Sunday October 22 and 23: fun with family and sage’s blessing ceremony. Go to church with sage for the first time?

So, that’s the plan for the next week.

What do you think? Any suggestions for me? Have any of you ever done anything like this?

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany Stedman

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I remember crying at the library. I checked email on the ipad while there and I got a really sweet and encouraging message from my friend, Melissa. In a moment when I was feeling especially discouraged about still being pregnant (I was a week past my estimated due date) she told me she was proud of me and wrote this “So today, instead of saying when is this baby going to get here?! I want you to say ‘I am one tough mama, I can handle this!! I can be patient for nature. Not everyone does this and I am proud of myself for waiting it out!!’ and give yourself a nice pat on the back. Or just pat your belly if that is easier.” It made me smile and then cry. And it made me feel a little better too. Little did I know how much I would need to hear, and remember her words that I was one tough momma in the hours to come.

My labor really got started Sunday evening around 6pm. I’d been having contractions steadily all afternoon, but they weren’t really labor contractions, they were just the same tightening feeling that I’d been having since I was about 20 weeks pregnant. But, around 6pm things changed, these contractions were different, they felt like labor. Suddenly as I felt them I remembered, really remembered, my first birth in a whole new way.

I continued having regular labor contractions as I made dinner and put Thaddeus to bed. When a contraction would hit I’d just lean over against the counter and do what I needed to do to deal with it and then go back to making dinner. We had a broccoli and green bean pasta for dinner. Bryan and I split a beer and toasted to the baby being born soon.

Dealing with the contractions got a little harder while putting Thad to sleep as they got more intense while I was nursing him. Thankfully he fell asleep quickly and I only had to work through two or three contractions while putting him to bed.

After Thad was asleep we called our midwife, Shell, and gave her a heads up about what was going on. Then I had some chocolate crème brûlée that my dad had made the night before and we tried to watch some tv. That didn’t last long.

It was getting later and things were moving along well so we started getting some stuff ready – moving birth supplies into the bedroom, changing the sheets on the bed, etc. We put on the playlist of songs I had made for the birth and danced our way through a few contractions. Shell called back to see how things were going and told us she was on her way. We called my sister and asked her to come be with Thad in case he woke up. We texted my mom (since we knew she was up any way because of the time difference in Cebu) and I sent off a quick email to some close friends who had agreed to pray with me throughout the last few weeks of pregnancy.

When Shell got here she started setting up her stuff, and helped me through a few contractions. Then we all moved out into the kitchen. Shell had one of dad’s crème brûlée’s and a coffee. Bryan and I had some tea and we all just sat and talked in-between contractions. Shell shared stories with us that made us laugh. (She really should write her memoirs some day – I know I would love to read that!)

Soon Brie arrived and joined us for a crème brûlée of her own and plenty of her own energy and talkativeness. The contractions at this point were difficult but manageable and Shell kept saying “I think you’ll be surprised. I think your farther along then you think you are.” which was of course an encouraging thing to hear.

After everyone had finished their desert and drinks we moved back into the bedroom and Shell did an internal exam – more for the opportunity to turn the baby since she was still posterior than to find out how dilated I was, but it was encouraging when she told us that my cervix was dilated to a five on it’s own but could easily stretch to an eight. My sister asked something about how much longer Shell thought it would be and Shell said something to the extent of it being up to me, that my cervix wasn’t really the issue, and it would quickly open and stretch as it needed to once I was ready and about how it was going to be more about me being ready and not afraid to push…or something like that. It was getting harder for me to concentrate at this point.

After I was checked Brie and Bryan started laying down the plastic floor covering stuff that we got to protect the carpet (my dad was worried we’d ruin the carpet in his bathroom again, like we had when my son was born). The stuff we got this time had adhesive on one side so it actually stuck to the carpet and didn’t slide around. It worked really well. My sister got really into the job of covering the carpet and even made a little “run way” from where I was laboring on the floor in the bedroom to the bathroom. It even had an arrow in the middle made out of duct tape. We all got a little chuckle out of it.

It was nice to laugh during labor – my labor with Thaddeus had been really, intense and heavy and even contemplative. Up to this point in my labor with Sage things were much lighter, more relaxed, and I felt much more present and grounded.

Once we moved into the bathroom with everything all set up I hit what I’m going to call the peeing stage of my labor. By this point the baby was very low in my pelvis and putting a lot of pressure on my bladder. For a while this was the pattern that was my reality – have a contraction, go to the toilet and pee, come back out, feel thirsty and have something to drink, have another contraction, get up again to pee, again have something to drink. It went on like this with me peeing about every two minutes for quite a while.

Then things slowed down a bit. I remember my sister asking numerous times “what are we waiting for?” and looking at her phone. I remember her asking Shell how much longer she thought it would be and how far along she thought I was now. I didn’t realize it at first but her anxiety and desire for it to be over started rubbing off on me. I was the one who really wanted it to be over, I was the one working through the pain every few minutes! My stress level rose.

I remember telling them that I felt a lot of pressure (which isn’t surprising since the baby was very low by now) and that I kind of wanted to push but didn’t really feel ready. Shell told me if I wanted to push I could try and that if I wasn’t ready it wouldn’t really do anything. For the next few contractions I pushed. Shell listened to the babies heart rate, which sounded great. The pushing felt nice with the contractions, but it didn’t really do anything.

I started to feel discouraged as Brie asked again “what are we waiting for”. There started to be longer distances between contractions. I remember during a particularly long break between contractions I thought to myself “you need to ask brie to leave” it was clear as day and I knew it was what I needed for everything to pick back up again. But I wrestled with telling her for what felt like a mini-eternity. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, I knew she had said she really wanted to be at the birth. I had planned on having her video the birth and take pictures (as long as Thad didn’t wake up), since I was always a little sad that I didn’t have video/pictures of Thad’s birth. Would brie take it the wrong way, or would she understand? I struggled with these things for a while, but I knew I had to ask her to leave. So, I asked her to go, and she did, and pretty much immediately things picked up again.

…. check back tomorrow for the rest of the story…

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany Stedman

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I nurse uncovered. Sometimes I’m discreet, but honestly sometimes I’m not. Don’t get me wrong it’s not like I’m just walking around with “the girls” hanging out all the time, but I do choose not to use nursing covers and sometimes when an acrobatic nursing toddler comes off unexpectedly more of my breast gets exposed then I would prefer. But, over the past almost two years of nursing I’ve formed some personal and yet strong opinions about nursing uncovered. In this post I’d like to share some of those opinions.

Let me begin by saying that there are plenty of very legitimate reasons to nurse covered up. I definitely think it is a personal choice for each nursing mama and one that will be determined by each woman’s level of comfort and belief system. If being covered up helps you to feel comfortable feeding your child by all means cover up. I have no problem with women making the choice to cover up. That being said it’s not the choice that I have made for some very specific reasons.

Here are some of the reasons why I am not overly careful about covering up while nursing, even in public.

The first reason on my list has to be pure convenience. Let’s face it, pulling your shirt up or down or just unbuttoning a few buttons is WAY easier than wrestling with a nursing cover, or blanket. But this is never more true than when you are first starting to breastfeed.

When my first son was born I have to admit I was overwhelmed. The weight and responsibility of motherhood was kind of shocking to me. Amidst the waves of emotion and worry I began my journey of breastfeeding my son. Thankfully we didn’t have that much difficulty with breastfeeding and I had a lot of support around me at the beginning. But, there was one part of the breastfeeding relationship that was incredibly difficult for me and even lead to some conflict between me and the other breastfeeding (or previously breastfeeding women) I had in my support system. That area was covering up in public or at private residences were males, older women, or children, were present.

When I could actually see my breast and my sons mouth we got a great latch and our nursing relationship was quite enjoyable. But, when I had to struggle to adjust a nursing cover, hold up a blanket, line up the hole on a nursing top with my nipple, or pull up a double layered shirt to make sure that I was covered…well, let’s just say that our nursing relationship was not “enjoyable” it was frustrating. There was enough new things to be figuring out as a new mom, adding staying covered didn’t help, and often didn’t seem important enough to me to keep up amidst all the other new things I was trying to figure out. I’m sure that for some new moms covering up isn’t difficult and I’m sure that there are those who value covering up more than I did, but I’m also sure that there are others like me who found being a new mom challenging enough and didn’t want or need the added complication of figuring out how to nurse covered up while still nursing on cue and maintaining a good latch. I wish as a society we could at least allow moms of newborns more grace when it comes to exposure. Personally, I think it would help to improve some of the latch problems that so many new moms experience.

One of the strongest reasons I nurse uncovered though is that I believe in breastfeeding and I want to advocate for every woman’s right to nurse her baby whenever wherever and for every babies right to eat the best food possible wherever whenever. The more people see women nursing the more it becomes normalized in society, and the more it becomes normalized in a society the more women will choose to nurse their babies. I don’t what someone to think I’m just holding my baby when I’m nursing in public, I want them to know what I’m doing, because I want the beautiful, natural act of nursing to be a normal, accepted and welcomed act in society. As long as breastfeeding gets pushed behind closed doors and under covers it’s not going to become a normal accepted act in society.

But I don’t just nurse uncovered for the sake of the culture at large, I nurse uncovered for the sake of every future mom out there, every friend I have who doesn’t yet have children, every little girl who dreams of someday becoming a mommy. So many women today have problems breastfeeding, as Best for Babes puts it, they get stuck in the “booby traps”. I believe that one of those traps, one of the things that makes it difficult for women to nurse is that they don’t have a lot of first hand experience with nursing. I was lucky to have a sister who nursed three children before I had my first. I saw my sister nursing, and that was, for me, more helpful than all the books I read or advice I was told. But, my sister was the only women I had ever truly seen latch a baby onto the breast.

In our society we don’t grow up seeing women all around us nursing. But, breastfeeding isn’t something you learn through books, videos, and talking about it. It’s best learned through actual experience and in-person observation. When women see how their aunts, sisters, friends, and the stranger in the grocery store nurse their babies their brains assimilate that knowledge and it gives them a body knowledge that helps them when it comes time for them to nurse their own children. Here is a post that does a much better (and more scientific) job at explaining this idea. I think her comments at the end may be a little extreme, but I do strongly agree that there is value in both men and women seeing women nurse their babies in-person. Both sexes need to assimilate this knowledge for when they have their own children. Read the article for more on this thought.

These are my main reasons for choosing to nurse uncovered, but they are not all the reasons. I didn’t even mention things like babies overheating because of nursing covers in the summer time, or that eating is for us and for our infants a social activity, or the fact that I don’t know any nursling over the age of 12 months who would agree to staying covered (a nursing 1 year old can be very active). For more great reasons why nursing uncovered should be more accepted read this post over at Lactation Narration.

For now I choose to nurse uncovered, it’s what works for me and my nursling. And I encourage you to do what works for YOU and yours.

So, tell me, do you nurse covered or uncovered? Why or why not?

Rejoicing in the journey –
Bethany Stedman

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For months before that moment I had been doing research and gathering information about weaning and when to wean and I had known pretty quickly that I didn’t want to wean my son by a year or anywhere near then, but it was at that moment in church when I really realized that I really believed in extended breastfeeding and I wanted to nurse my son until the day when he and I both felt ready to stop.

When I realized that I wanted to nurse my child into toddlerhood, I was prepared for the social and societal reproductions. I expected that I would face the constant question of “when are you going to wean?” I expected stares when I nursed I public, I expected disapproval from some who didn’t understand the physical and emotional benefits of it for both me and my child. I expected quickly reaching a point where I was nursing the oldest child in my circle of friends. What I hadn’t expected or prepared myself for was what actually happened.

Fast forward a few months to January of this year when I found out I was pregnant with our second child. I was honestly ecstatic. I felt ready to have another child and excited to grow our family. I knew right away that I wanted to keep nursing Thaddeus and tandem nurse my children together. I expected that this too would come with it’s own social stigmas and difficulties. I didn’t expect what actually happened.

Fast forward a few more months… Now my son is almost 19 months old and I am almost five months pregnant with our second child. This pregnancy, and life in general, have been hard over the past few months and it’s taken a toll on my body. I’ve struggled to put on weight and wrestled with severe allergies/sensitivities, regular headaches, hives, and frequent nausea. My chiropractor and acupuncturist have both recommended that I wean Thaddeus for the sake of my health and the health of this new baby. My midwife has stayed more neutral, and although she hasn’t seemed to think that weaning was essential right now, she has also said that weaning might be good for me if things get worse. These aren’t mainline medical professionals, these aren’t formula advocates, these are people who believe in breastfeeding and who encourage extended breastfeeding. These are people I wouldn’t have expected to encourage me to wean.

As I face these recommendations I am once again realizing that sometimes unexpected circumstances get in the way of our expectations for how we want to raise our children and the kind of parents we want to be. I am now faced with the question, “to wean or not to wean?” Do I stick to my guns, hold on to my beliefs about extended nursing and press on hoping that the cost to my health and the health of this unborn baby is minimal or none existent in the end? Or do I let go of my ideal and my guilt and wean, as people I trust have suggested? Is it possible that there is some sort of middle ground between the options?

I don’t want to be pig headed and ignore wise advice. I want to get healthy and do whatever I need to in order to insure a healthy and safe pregnancy for myself and this new baby. But, on the other hand my son has recently gone through a lot of change. In the past month and a half we have essentially been living somewhere different almost every week and he is in the middle of one of the most unstable, insecure seasons of his young life. It’s clearly taking a toll on him already. How do I wean him in the middle of all that? How do I wean him gently and respect his needs?

Honestly, the idea of weaning a 19 month old scares me to death and completely overwhelms me. And my son is not an easy going 19 month old – he’s a rather stubborn, undistractable, determined 19 month old with a mind of his own. A 19 month old that currently nurses more times than I can count in a day, and regularly more than 5 times a night for long periods. I don’t even know where I would start when it comes to weaning.

I’m sure there are others who have nursed into toddlerhood and then ended up weaning for medical reasons, or because of another pregnancy? How did you do it? Right now I just feel stuck and wish someone would help me see the best path through this season, the best way to balance my needs and the needs of my unborn child with my toddlers needs. If you have any advice I’d love to hear it. Thanks!

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany Stedman

This post is part of a blog carnival about breastfeeding toddlers hosted by www.blacktating.com

Here’s a list of all the other participants. I can’t wait to read what these great bloggers have to say about extended breastfeeding!

Mamapoeki from Authentic Parenting: Extended Breastfeeding?
Mama Alvina of Ahava & Amara Life Foundation: Breastfeeding Journey Continues
Elita @ Blacktating: The Last Time That Never Was
Diana Cassar-Uhl, IBCLC: Old enough to ask for it
Karianna @ Caffeinated Catholic Mama: A Song for Mama’s Milk
Judy @ Mommy News Blog: My Favorite Moments
Tamara Reese @ Kveller: Extended Breastfeeding
Jenny @ Chronicles of a Nursing Mom: The Highs and Lows of Nursing a Toddler
Christina @ MFOM: Natural-Term Breastfeeding
Rebekah @ Momma’s Angel: My Sleep Breakthrough
Suzi @ Attachedattheboob: Why I love nursing a toddler
Claire @ The Adventures of Lactating Girl: My Hopes for Tandem Nursing
Elisa @ blissfulE: counter cultural: extended breastfeeding
Momma Jorje: Extended Breastfeeding, So Far!
Stephanie Precourt from Adventures in Babywearing: “Continued Breastfeeding”: straight from the mouths of babes
The Accidental Natural Mama: Nurse on, Mama
Sarah @ Reproductive Rites: Gratitude for extended breastfeeding
Nikki @ On Becoming Mommy: The Little Things
Dr. Sarah @ Good Enough Mum: Breastfeeding for longer than a year: myths, facts and what the research really shows
Amy @ WIC City: (Extended) Breastfeeding as Mothering
The Artsy Mama: Why Nurse a Toddler?
Christina @ The Milk Mama: The best thing about breastfeeding
TopHot @ the bee in your bonnet: From the Mouths of Babes
Beth @ Bethstedman.com: Extended Breastfeeding: To Wean Or Not To Wean
Callista @ Callista’s Ramblings: Pressure To Stop Breastfeeding
Amanda @ Postilius: Nursing My Toddler Keeps My Baby Close
Sheryl @ Little Snowflakes: Tandem Nursing- The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
Zoie @ Touchstone Z: Breastfeeding Flavors
Lauren @ Hobo Mama: Same old, same old: Extended breastfeeding
Tanya @ Motherwear Breastfeeding Blog: Six misconceptions about extended breastfeeding
Jona (Breastfeedingtwins.org): Breastfeeding older twins
Motherlove Herbal Company: Five reasons to love nursing a toddler

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Connected Mom writes this beautiful post about Four Lies Sleep Trainers Tell You (And One Truth They Won’t!)

If you’ve ever struggled with a baby who just won’t sleep the way “they” tell you that your baby “should”, well, I encourage you to read this post.

I want to close by sharing a poem that Connect Mom shared at the end of her post. I thought this was absolutely beautiful, and inspiring, and SO encouraging! This is for all you mama’s out there who, like me, continue to struggle through sleep deprivation.

Selflessness

Everything which endures can

only do so because Eternal

Consciousness gives it a sentience.

A mother who gives herself

completely to her infant meets

herself in the dark and finds

fulfillment.

In the hours between midnight

and dawn, she crosses the

threshold of self-concern and

discovers a Self that has no limits.

A wise mother meets this

Presence with humility and steps

through time into selflessness.

Infants know when their mothers

have done this, and they

become peaceful.

Who, then, is the doer? Is it the

infant who brings its mother

through the veil of self-concern

into limitlessness? Is it the

mother, who chooses to hold

sacred her infant’s needs and

surrender herself? Or is it the

One, which weaves them both

through a spiraling path

toward wholeness?

You can sit and meditate while

your baby cries himself to sleep.

Or you can go to him and share

his tears, and find your Self.

By Vimala McClure, from The Tao of Motherhood

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany Stedman

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Today I am 12 weeks pregnant and I can’t believe that you are already about the size of a lime. Honestly, little one, I’ve been having a hard time connecting with you so far…

By the time I was 12 weeks pregnant with your brother all I could think about was him. I’d constantly find myself rubbing my belly, I’d talk to him, dream about him and imagine what he’d be like. But, I haven’t done that as much with you. There’s more to do this time with a toddler to chase, I guess sometimes you just slip my mind. Forgive me, sweet child, and will you be my valentine?

I may not give you as much attention right now as I gave your brother in utero but I already love you so much! I’m gonna smother you with kisses when I finally get to hold you!

Today on Valentine’s Day here is my prayer for you, my littlest valentine:

Mother of us all, I may not keep this little one in mind often,
but I do hold them in my heart.
May you hold them safe in the center of your heart.
Spirit who nurtures, in the dark of winter, as this new life is formed,
nurture light and joy within this child even now – create them into a bringer of light.
God who is love, grow love in all of us for this new life.
Even now prepare a place of love for them that only they can fill.
Creator of life, May your hand shape this babe in health, that this new “baby mystery” would be the perfect second child for Bryan and I and the perfect sibling for little Thaddeus.
In the name of the Word become flesh, Jesus. Amen.

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany Stedman

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I mean in the past year we’ve made it to church about once or twice a month anyway, is that really enough to say that we go to a particular church? I mean I’m quite certain that the majority of the people at our current church don’t really think of us as “part” of the church, and maybe they shouldn’t with as sporadic as our attendance has been. Honestly, I think it took over a year of attendance for ME to start thinking of us as “part” of the church and even then we often wondered if it was really the right place for us.

It wasn’t always like this. The church we were at before this we only ever missed when we were out of town or very sick. I wanted to be there. I felt welcomed and involved there. I felt like it was a place where I could truly bring my gifts and my ideas and my questions and I loved that. Sure there were some Sundays when I dragged my feet getting out the door, but I felt like if I wasn’t there people would miss me and wonder about me and I always knew that in the end I would be glad I’d gone.

Lately it hasn’t been like that. Some of it is because we are at a different church and I’ve never felt like there was really a place for me at this new church or like my voice would be valued there. Not that we didn’t have friends there, in fact we do have a few wonderful friends at our current church, friends who I love and who love us well. But, I never felt much connection with the church leadership as a whole, or the church structure, style, and at times world view. I did however feel like it was the best place for us in this season especially since many of the people who we thought of as family went there.

Some of our irregular attendance was due to nothing more than a change in life situation. Having a child gave me a whole new outlook on church. Honestly, going to church with a child is often more headache than it’s worth. I’d heard people say things about how difficult it was to go to church with children, but I never fully understood this until having a child myself. Getting out the door is always difficult with a child and for some reason seems more difficult when we are going to church. Once we got to church there was the struggle to keep our son contained and quiet until it was time for him to go to the nursery. Then there is the nursery time…Often for me, since I didn’t want to leave my son in the nursery, church ended up feeling like a glorified play date.

By the time all this is done the value of going to church could be redeemed by a quality time connecting with friends, but I’ve always felt sort of awkward by the after church socializing time. Usually I feel unsure who to talk to even when I have good friends there. Plus, by now it’s late and Thad is hungry and tired and generally out of sorts, so we rush home. What is the value in any of that? Most weeks it just feels easier and more rewarding to stay home, have a nice meal together as a family, and maybe read or watch a movie together.

But even with all this I was starting to feel more inspired to go to church. I was starting to feel like maybe it was worth it… for the relationship. I was starting to feel slightly more connected at our new church and was making some new friends there, and then this happened… and now I find myself wondering yet again if there really is any value in going to church? When church leaders put their own comfort above the needs of the church as a whole? When you have a young child and aren’t really able to enter into church fully? When you’re sometimes awkward and shy and have a difficult time connecting with people in church settings? When you don’t fit the typical Christian mold and have questions that you don’t feel would be welcomed there? When you have talents and gifts that don’t fit into the very few, very limited ways that people are asked to “serve” in the church (or the ways women are asked to serve in the church)? Am I being selfish? Does it really matter all that much, how bad would it be if we just stopped going? Is it worth looking for another church when the problems I have going to church will probably be an issue at any church? Am I giving up too soon? Do I need to stay and call the church to something more? Perhaps the value is simply in staying amidst the uncomfortable?

These are questions I’m struggling with right now…

What do you think? Do you go to church, if so what has your experience with church been? If you’re a mom how do you find value in going to church with young children?

More to come tomorrow…

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany Stedman

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