When Answers Aren't Actually Answers

Last fall, before Spud was born, we met with a genetics counselor.  In Ontario, part of the standard testing for children with hearing loss is a genetic work-up.  It's optional, but we decided to pursue it, even though, at the end of the day, the answers wouldn't change a thing.  Depending on the results, the testing might have been able to tell us if Bean's loss was going to progressive, if there were other things that co-occurred with it such as vision loss, and the odds of future children having similar hearing loss.

Quick biology refresher:  Human beings are "programmed" by our genes.  Children get half their genes from their mom, half from their dad.  Boys are XY and girls are XX.   For a boy child (like Bean or Spud), David would have passed on his Y and I would have passed on an X (it's all I can do really).  Different genes are "expressed" in different ways.  Some genes are expressed through eye color, hair color, nose shape, etc.  Other genes are present, but aren't expressed (carrier genes).   We have learnt a lot about the human genome and know what some of the genes do.  There are way more that we don't even come close to understanding yet.

Our meeting last fall entailed talking with a genetics counselor at length, giving as detailed a genetic history as we possibly could, and Bean getting some blood drawn.  Between then and now, Bean's blood was sent off to some lab somewhere at which they tested it extensively looking for gene variations associated with hearing loss.  Today was results day.

We had been warned that genetic testing might not show anything, but in our case it did show something.  Bean has a variation in the GJB2 sequence.   I do not know what those letters stand for, just that they are important.  Variations in the GJB2 gene are linked to hearing loss.  So we have our answer, right?  WRONG!  Even though Bean has the GJB2 gene variation, the type of hearing loss it causes is not the type of hearing loss he has.  GJB2 linked hearing loss is usually high frequency and profound, neither of which fit Bean's loss.  However, the gene can also be expressed in other ways, such as patchy thickening of the skin, which Bean has (as do I).  

So, in short, he has a genetic variation that is linked to hearing loss, but it is not what is causing his hearing loss.  At this point the geneticist believes that Bean's hearing loss is hereditary (he got it from me) on a part of the genome that they have not yet identified.  The geneticist says that I am the prototype for Bean, so that's a interesting position to be in.  We were also told that there is probably a 50/50 chance of future children having the same type of loss and that we need to make sure future children are thoroughly tested for hearing loss as soon as reasonably possible after birth and followed.

Was the testing worth it?  It was interesting for certain. And I find it amusing that we've got ourselves a zebra, because really, what are the odds of having a genetic variation associated with hearing loss that isn't causing the genetic hearing loss?

On the move again

Real quick post tonight since it is late... I'm thinking about reviving the blog a bit, sharing some of our journey with Bean and now Spud as well.  Anyone interested?  Whether you're interested or not, I may or may not still post.  So, pretending I never stopped...
The last 3 months or so have been pretty crazy in the Ayala household.  My sister came back for a visit from Israel, Bean turned 3 (WHAT?!?), Spud was born, Christmas happened, David's mom came to visit for a couple weeks in January and then returned to Texas.  After returning to Texas, she succumbed to the cancer that she had been fighting and died, so David went down to Texas to settle things there, leaving me and the boys at our York st house to pack up and get ready to move.  David came home and about 2 weeks later we were on our way to an apartment in London.  And those are just the cliff's notes!

Why London?
London is where Robarts School for the Deaf is.  It is where we feel Bean will do the best for education.  It hasn't been an easy decision and I'll try to post more about why we decided to go this route at another time.  For now though, just a couple pictures before I hop into bed.

Introducing Spud

Making memories with Grandma

Brothers:

The Mommy Club

My younger brother (Middle Brother) has an antique spinning wheel.  All but one of the spokes on the wheel are identical.  One of the spokes though is just a little bit different.  It's still part of the wheel, but just different enough to be the odd one out.
Much of the time I have felt like that "odd" spoke.  I might be part of a group, but never quite fit in.  I can be a little awkward, and just in general, different.  I never quite felt like I was at the same place in life as my peers.
In all the lonely times, especially as I got older, I held onto the fact that one day I would belong to "The Mommy Club".  The Mommy Club, in my mind, was the club that all mommies belonged to.  You didn't have to do anything to join except be a mommy.  Once you were a mommy you would belong to this unofficial club.  Every mommy would belong because they would all have something in common - they would be mommies!
Just over a year ago, I had a baby.  I could now be part of the Mommy Club.  Except I never found it.  I suspect that the mommy club is a lie, cooked up in my own psyche.  Yes, I have a baby (toddler?), yes, that makes me a mommy, but I'm still the odd spoke.  I still dance to the beat of my own drum.  I realize that the Mommy Club is as fictional as The Village in which the women all work together raising the children and looking out for each other.
They both sound like wonderful things, but like many wonderful things, they aren't necessarily real. Doesn't mean I don't often wish it were so.  I wish there was a Mommy Club, or a Village where I could kick off my shoes (or leave them on if I wanted), curl up on a couch, stretch out on the floor, or lounge on a pillow and just be with other moms who subscribed to the same philosophies that I do, or at least similar ones, or at the very least weren't adamantly opposed to them.  Maybe we'd drink some tea, maybe we would talk, or maybe we would just watch our littles be the little people that they are, not worrying about what the other mommies think about how we are parenting.
I am so fortunate to have found at least 2 other mommies in the neighborhood who I can mostly relax with - and as I get to know them better, and they get to know me better, perhaps we will become a Mommy Club.  But even if we don't, that's okay too.
The Mommy Club doesn't have to exist for me to belong.   My parenting styles don't have to match up with anyone else's.**  I do not have to defend my parenting to anyone else.   Having the support of other parents who follow similar styles is great, but I'm learning that it doesn't have to be shared face to face over a cup of tea.  My "village" is spread around the globe, and consists of hundreds of people. I can't talk to most of them about everything, but I can talk to all of them about something. I have a group I can ask questions about babywearing (however, getting hands on help for those back carries is hard on the internet!), another group I can ask about why my son has decided to stop using the potty, another I can ask about which essential oils will most effectively treat my husband's cold, and another I can turn to for support when it comes to sorting out thing related to Bean's hearing loss.  So it's not just one village, but lots of villages and I can travel from village to village with a click of the mouse.   This virtual metropolis will never quite replace The Village of bygone days (if that Village ever truly existed), nor will it replace The Mommy Club (which I suspect never actually existed), but it will be good enough.   Because when I march to the beat of my own drum, I know who will be with me all the way:

**My parenting style does have to be compatible with my husband - this parenting gig is a two person job, but other than him, everyone else can go fly a kite (and he can too, as long as he takes the Bean with him)

I am NOT a human pacifier!

The other day I was at a large baby show with many different vendors and information booths.  As per my usual I perused the various booths, collecting information, chatting with vendors that I had seen at other shows (perhaps this is a sign that I go to too many shows?), and generally having a good time.  One of the booths I saw was advertising help with sleep.  I've got a 9.5 month old...getting sleep advice is seldom a bad idea, especially since said 9.5 month old doesn't like napping.
So I stopped and started chatting with the vendor.  She asked how sleep was going.  I told her that Bean didn't like to nap and that he slept alright at night as long as he was attached to me (we co-sleep and he likes to nurse).  I told her that if I wanted him to sleep during the day I either had to lay down with him or put him in a carrier.  She looked at me and said "Oh, so you're just a human pacifier for him".
What I wanted to say and what I did say at that moment were two very different things. What I did say wasn't much.  I nodded my head, took her card, jiggled Bean in his carrier as if he was fussing (which he was a little) and told her that I needed to keep moving.
What I wanted to say was far less polite and would have taken more guts and quick thinking that I possessed at the time.  Here is my answer to her and anyone else who wants to call me a human pacifier:
"I am NOT a human pacifier.  A pacifier is a plastic, rubber, or silicone piece of equipment that is used to placate a baby in place of meeting the actual need of the baby.  I do not hate pacifiers and have even used them on occasion with Bean, but I am not a pacifier.
I am a mother.  When Bean cries and wants to snuggle in with me at night, he's not using me as a pacifier, he's showing me how smart he is.  He knows that being close to mom is a safe place to be and that I will keep him safe.   When he wants to take a nap in a carrier on my back (or front) he's telling me the same thing.  He's saying loud and clear "I love you Mom and I know you'll keep me safe and I can sleep peacefully when you are here."
When he wants to nurse all.day.long. he's not using me as a pacifier, he's telling me that he's growing and needs to eat more.  When he wants to be close to me he's telling me that he's scared or confused or lonely or that this big world is simply overwhelming him.
No, I am not a human pacifier.  I am a Mom.  I listen to my baby and do my best to give him what he needs.  And sometimes, what he needs is my breast.  Other times he just needs to be held close to me and know that I am there for him.
There are other times when he wants nothing to do with me.  When his Uncle Ben walks in the door I am quickly forgotten.  When he wants to rough house with Daddy or Uncle Isaac or Uncle Reuben he will push me away so that they will take him and play with him.  When he wants to climb or get into the dog's water or play with the fire place tools, he will look at me with his impish grin and get into whatever trouble he wants to get into.
But when he needs me, when he wants me, I will be there for him, whether it's for a snuggle against my chest or a snack from my breast, I will be there for him - I am his mother, not a human pacifier."

That's what I wanted to say.

That thing in his mouth?  That's a pacifier.  That's not me.  I'm not green.  Nor am I that small. Nor is he allowed to chew on me like that!

General Update: Bean

Time for some general update posting! I'm going to start with Bean.  Bean is now 9 months old and is dashingly handsome!

Reality check: He usually isn't dressed quite that stunningly - we'd just gotten home from church when I snapped that photo.  Typically he looks more like this: 

or this: 

Last time I checked his mouth he had four teeth.  His central incisors on the bottom are through and his lateral incisors on the top are through.  He absolutely hates people sticking their fingers in his mouth so it is really hard to get a good look at how many teeth he has. 

He is having a lot of fun playing with solid foods.  We are loosely following Baby-led weaning, which for us means that whatever we are eating he gets a little bit to eat, with a few exceptions.  He does not get any grains, nuts, or dairy yet.  Other than that, it's pretty much all good.  He goes through phases where he has a particularly favored food.  Right now it is peas and carrots, often meat is right up at the top of his list as well.  If mama has it, he wants it.  If daddy has it, he absolutely must have it!

Bean is becoming increasingly more mobile.  He can crawl with lightning speed and is pulling himself to stand and walking along furniture and such.  He also loves to climb.  If it can be climbed, he will climb it.  We picked a climber up for him at a yard sale yesterday and he loves it.  I don't have any pictures of him on it yet though. 

He has also discovered the piano.  If the door between our apartment and the big house is open, he will frequently make a beeline for the piano.  He can pull himself up to reach the keys on his own, but particularly likes it if someone holds him on their lap so that he can reach more of the keys.  In a pinch his highchair also works as a piano chair.  The hardest part is keeping the music out of his reach because he is very much at the stage that everything and anything goes in his mouth!

Bean is not great at taking naps yet, but is getting much better at sleeping during the night (not that he was ever bad at sleeping at night). He will usually nap on my back in a carrier during the morning and we often lay down together in the afternoon for "milk and snuggles" or if that's not an option, he goes on my back in a carrier again (or on my front, depending on what is going on).  On very rare occasions I get him to lay down in his bed for a nap and then I take picture as proof that it actually happened:

We are still waiting to get a definitive "pass" on his hearing test.  We had one in September and it didn't go so well - it was neither a pass nor a fail.  We have another one coming up this  month, so hopefully we will get a definitive answer.  He does appear to hear things okay, so we aren't too worried. In the meantime I occasionally use some sign with him, but that would happen whether he could hear or not. 

All in all, he's a pretty great kid and I think we'll keep him around :)

Five Minute Friday: Hands

It's been a while since I joined in the party, but it's that time of the week again -  Five Minute Friday with Lisa-Jo Baker - five minutes of unscripted, unedited writing based on the same prompt that hundreds of other bloggers are writing on today.  This week's prompt is: Hands.

Start:
Hands shape the world and hands change the world.  Two appendages, each with five digits and they can hold the whole world.  My hands can (and do) tell stories - I use them to make the words when I can't hear what's going on around me, I wave them wildly when I'm excited and slowly and heavily when I'm not.  I use them to sing.
My hands also bring the world.  They bring the world to my son as I take him form place to place, as  I gently carry him and gently care for him.
My hands show my day.  Today they are dry and clean - evidence of an afternoon spent in the pool.  Yesterday they were dusty and dirty - evidence of a morning spent skirting alpaca fleeces. They've been cut and blistered and burnt and roughened.  They tell where I have been.
My hands also bring these words into being.  Without my hands I could not type these words, I could not express myself here, in this format.  My hands do that.
My hands.  They are the part of me that so many people see.  Hands are what I watch.  They tell so many stories.  Stories of where people have been and where people are going.  Stories of wonder.  Stories of sadness.   Tiny hands, big hands.
Stop.

I love watching these little hands grow!

Rhythms

For the majority of my life thus far I have been a formal student - that is, enrolled in some type of formal academic program.  I lived and breathed and slept and sweated and cried academia.  My life had a rhythm that was dictated from outside of itself - the rhythm of the school year. It ebbed and flowed like the tide, cresting at midterms and finals, and entering a trough during the hot summer months, only to start up again in the fall. There were smaller troughs throughout the year when we had short breaks for Christmas, Easter, March, Thanksgiving and other such occasions.  Th rhythm was as predictable as it was familiar.   Busy times and less busy times.  Stressful times and less stressful times.

I'm still a student, though at a much slower pace, but primarily I am a mother.  My life has a different rhythm now, although it is still dictated outside of itself - this time by a squirmy little Bean rather than a calendar.  Our days settle into a rhythm of eating, sleeping, toileting, playing...however the rhythm is not nearly as predictable or familiar as the academic rhythm was.  If the academic rhythm was a steady march the rhythm of being a mom is a swing dance inspired by a group who is making up the music as they go along.

Along with the daily rhythm of being a mom comes the rhythm of living on the farm.  This rhythm not only goes from day to day but also cycles through the year.  While we don't plant seed (except for a few small container gardens) and will not (likely) be harvesting any hay this year, the rhythm of farm life is still dictated by the weather and cycles through the year, with only minor variations from year to year.  Spring brings the Alpaca Ontario show, followed by shearing, birthing, breeding, fencing and all manner of other summer activities - with swim team thrown in there for good measure.  The fall brings the Rockton Fair and the Alpaca Ontario sponsored fall show (this year it will be the all new Cavalcade of Champions), followed by Christmas craft shows.  The rhythm of farm life could be compared to a square dance - dances between couples (the day to day rhythm) taking place within the larger dance of the square (the yearly rhythm).

Dancing to the rhythm allows us to find order in our lives.  The rhythm give us all something in common, a common link, a common beat.  However, no matter the dance there is a something that all dances have in common: the need for rest.

When I got sick in 2008 I learned that my dance, my own personal rhythm would require more rests than the average dance.  My rhythm was slower.  There were are times when I forget that my rhythm is slower, that my dance requires great rests, and I pay dearly for those times.  It would be an untruth to say that I have completely embraced this slower pace of life - there are still times it frustrates me to no end that I have to slow down.  But it has taught me to savor the slow times.  It has taught me that without the rests, the dance becomes a dance marathon where you dance feverishly until you drop and a rest becomes forced.  Forced rests are not nearly enjoyable as rests that you choose - take it from someone who has been forced to rest many times.

You can't stop the dance altogether and you can't completely change the rhythm - especially when it is a rhythm from without - but you can choose to sit out part of the dance.  You can choose to take a pause, sit a spell, rest, and then join back into the dance.  I think that all dances would be better, and all dancers would do better, if our rhythms had more breaks, more rests, built in.  Life is not a dance marathon (unless dance marathons are your thing), but a dance party.  Take time to sip some punch, eat some chips, and catch up with friends.

The beat goes on!

Some rhythms are just plain special in and of themselves....

Surprises in Parenting: It doesn't have to be just one way

Before Bean was born I did some reading on parenting philosophies. I'd listened to some friends talk, read some blogs, and done a lot of thinking.  I had my mind pretty set on a particular style of parenting and planned on reading more about it and following it.  I figured that a solid base of one particular parenting style would be what I needed to get started on this journey of being a parent.
I was wrong.
I still don't have it all figured out, but I have learned that it is okay, and perhaps even good, to draw from multiple parenting philosophies to create the base upon which Husbandy and I want to draw as we figure out this parenting thing.
I've learned that it is okay to read through the tenets of a particular philosophy, choose the ones that work in our context and let go of the rest.  I've learned to be okay with modifying tenets of various philosophies in order to make them work better in our setting.  One example that comes to mind readily is how we looked at the Montessori guidelines for allowing an infant to start exploring self feeding - giving the child real dishes (plate, cup, pitcher, etc) that are their size, yet identical to the corresponding adult dishes, which means glass.  The Montessori guidelines emphasize that even very young children can be taught to use appropriate care when handling breakable objects.
The Montessori guidelines, in combination with the new Health Canada infant feeding guidelines affirmed our decision to skip the sippy cup and go with an open cup (child sized) right from the time we introduce a cup.  However, we could not get around the idea of giving a 6-8 month old child a glass cup (often a shot glass or votive candle holder is used to get a child-sized glass cup).  So we put our heads together and came up with another option - a slightly weighted, translucent plastic cup.   For us that was a way of modifying existing philosophies to make them work in our context.  We kept the idea of a clear, realistic, open top, child-sized cup, but decided to make it much harder to break.
Naturally we'll see how well it works when we try to introduce a cup in the next couple of months - We could be in for another surprise!
Overall, coming to the realization that parenting Bean doesn't have to be based on just one style or philosophy of parenting has been very freeing.  It has allowed me to relax more about what I choose to do (or not do) and not worry about breaking the "rules" of a particular style/philosophy.  In a sense, it's given me freedom to make my own rules and develop my own style - which, if I am to believe what other mamas have told me, will be completely different with Bean than it is with any future children!
And now, to finish off this post, a picture of Bean, Husbandy, and Wifey at Husbandy's graduation.

Five Minute Friday: Visit

Bean is sleeping so I'm going to steal five minutes and take part in  Five Minute Friday with Lisa-Jo Baker - five minutes of unscripted, unedited writing based on the same prompt that hundreds of other bloggers are writing on today.  This week's prompt is: Visit

Start
Is it sad that when I hear the word "visit" the first things that come to mind are words that combine with visit?  Words such as "Doctor's" or "Dentist's" or "feeding specialist" or "audiologist" or "neurologist"?  Why in my head is the word "visit" associated most frequently with visits to medical professionals?  I guess it says something about how my last few week's have gone...visits to the midwife, the audiologist, the feeding specialist (for Bean), scheduling visits to the dentist and the doctor, being careful not to double book myself with upcoming visits to the neurologist and the lab, and hoping that certain visits won't have to be made - such as another visit to the audiologist for Bean or a follow-up dentist's visit.

I want to think of happier visits...of visits to see friends, of visits to see David at school, of visits from friends, but right now my visits are scheduled and carefully stored in my calendar.  Will there be a time for spontaneous visits again soon?  Visits that aren't scheduled weeks in advance in a myriad of different cities?  It would be nice.

Five minute Friday is one visit that I look forward to, it's a scheduled visit, but a wonderful one.

Stop

I always look at my work and then look at what others write and wonder how they write so much in five minutes...

Bean and I on the train heading to our second visit with the feeding specialist

No more dirty diapers? A surprise in parenting

I don't remember the last time Bean had a dirty diaper. No, he's not sick.  Yes, he is pooping regularly - just not in his diaper.
I remember reading about something called "elimination communication" while I was pregnant, but I didn't think it was something I'd try with Bean until he could sit on his own and sign to me that he needed to go (baby sign was something that I was 100% on board with).  Bean however had other ideas...
We noticed very early on that Bean did not like to go to the bathroom in his diaper.  He'd start to fuss and nursing wouldn't fix it.  Burping him didn't fix it.  Rocking him didn't fix it.  So the next logical conclusion was to check his diaper.  We'd check it and find it dry.  But no sooner would we have the diaper off of him and he'd let loose - usually hitting David full on (I usually escaped the "shower" - I attribute that to the fact that I have more experience changing little boy diapers than David does).  So we decided to give him an opportunity to go on the toilet.  To my surprise it worked.  Bean was routinely peeing on the toilet at every diaper change.  Quickly it advanced to pooping on the toilet as well.
At first we simply held him over the adult sized toilet and let him do his thing, but I found him too heavy to do that and knew he was only going to get heavier - and he's a squiggler and doesn't hold still well.  So a trip to the store yielded a simple potty - designed for potty training.  We got some ridicule from a store clerk for buying a potty for our three week old, but we wanted to give it a try.  If it didn't work, we'd put it in storage until he was older, but it would give me the ability to have his weight supported while he went to the bathroom.
It worked.  More and more frequently he was going on the potty instead of in his diaper.  He fusses, we take his diaper off and set him on the potty.  We still have to support his trunk (he is only 3 weeks old!), but he was going on the potty.  We still have a number of wet diapers each day, but neither David nor I can remember the last dirty diaper he had.  And we're okay with that.
I guess this is just one of the parenting surprises that we will encounter on this journey.  I'm excited to see what else the journey has in store (hopefully some sleep in the near future!).

More Bean

While my little Bean sleeps I figured I'd post some more cuteness...

A little monkey

There is a Bean in there somewhere...

Bean's first Christmas!

Welcome Samuel!

So the October-December update might come later, or it might not.  There's more exciting things to talk about now! Namely, one thing, who is actually a little tiny person!

Samuel David Ayala, December 13, 2013

What follows is Samuel's birth story, for anyone who is interested. As far as I can tell it's not overly graphic, but my perception may be a little skewed. In David's opinion the one thing I didn't stress enough is how loud I was towards the end - minor details. So here it is:

Samuel’s birth story started back in March, the way most every birth story starts.  If you don’t know how that is, ask your mother!  The first four months of his birth story were spent making me sick.  The next five were spent with me eating ridiculous amounts of food and sleeping lots…  All in all, pretty typical.  That is until Wednesday December 11, 2013.

David and I were both way overtired and decided to put ourselves to bed early.  Our lights were out by 9:30, which turns out to be a really good thing.  About 11:00 I woke up with a strange sensation of wetness.  My water had definitely broken. I wasn't having much in the way of contractions, but we called the midwife and made sure everything was ready, just in case.  Then we went back to bed.  I slept on and off until about 4am and then the combination of contractions and excitement woke me up.

At 6am, when everyone else got up for morning chores I moved to the bathtub to try and relax.  By about 9am, my contractions were about 5 minutes apart.  We called the midwife again and I crawled back into bed to try and rest.  Amazingly, I slept.  The midwife arrived about 10:30 (it was a busy day for the midwives!) and when I woke up about 11 she checked me.  I was only 2cm, so she told me to rest as much as I could and call when things changed. 

I had some lunch and got David to fill up the birthing pool.  Then I went and hung out there.  It was wonderful.  Whoever invented birthing pools with inflatable floors was a genius! David set things up so my laptop could be down there with me and I distracted myself online and breathed easily through my contractions. Once the water cooled off, I got out and walked around for a bit, still breathing easily through my contractions.

By 4pm or so, the contractions started to get stronger.  Breathing quietly through them wasn't working as well.  I was back in the birthing pool.  David got supper started upstairs and then came to join me in the birthing pool.  We worked through contractions together.  Things seemed to be picking up.  David called the midwife again and we continued to work through things.  Once the midwife arrived, she checked the baby’s heart rate (perfect!) and my blood pressure (also perfect).  Things continued to progress, getting more and more intense.  I handled things alright at first…time started to blur.  I decided that I wanted supper and Isaac brought me some (he was a very excited and attentive uncle-to-be).  I managed about half a dozen bites.  Then I started throwing up.   Time continued to blur, alternating between contractions and throwing up.  At one point mom brought me my evening meds and I promptly threw them back up.

After about 24 hours of labor (roughly… I wasn't watching the time too closely) I began to reach my limit.  The intensity of the contractions had almost peaked (I didn't know that at the time) and I was exhausted.  We moved from the birthing pool to my bed so that I could try and rest better between them.  That only worked so well, because no sooner had we gotten upstairs than the contractions came closer and closer together.  At one point I was shamelessly begging for something to ease the pain – even though I knew I really didn't want anything to interfere with the baby.   We considered a transfer to hospital so that I could get something for pain – however, the thought of making the transfer was almost unbearable – not just the car ride there in a worsening storm, but the psychological aspect of perceived failure at a homebirth.  The midwife checked me (first check since the morning) and told me that all I had to do was get the baby beyond the lip of my cervix and it would be done.  We were almost there.

We didn't transfer to the hospital.  Instead I moved to the bathroom where I continued to throw up and bellow through contractions (no more quietly breathing through them!).  David went to the bedroom to lie down.  I don’t think he slept though.  Soon I felt the urge to push.  I could feel the baby's head coming.  The midwife called David to come back in.  With a few more pushes Samuel was born into David’s hands and then placed onto my chest.  David moved behind me to support me as I cradled my newborn son on my chest.  We sat like that for a while until I passed out (oops!). David was a champ and brought me water sweetened with honey as well as a spoonful of honey while the midwife held my feet up and I laid flat on the floor. It didn't take long before my blood pressure stabilized and I was able to sit up with my baby on my chest again. Once the cord stopped pulsing, David cut it and we announced the name of our little Bean. 

While it wasn't the quiet, gentle, hypno-birth I had dreamed about, the result was a beautiful little boy – Samuel David, 7 lbs, 14 oz, and 22 inches long. 

snuggled up after a bath

Snuggling with Daddy

Update July - September

Catchy title, right?  I know... I do what I can. So I haven't actually posted anything but five-minute Friday posts since July (!) so there is a lot of ground to cover!  So a summary will have to suffice.
July: Everyone in the big house was gone for Canadian Jamboree (big Scout to-do out West) and David and I ran the farm.  We dealt with a pneumonia outbreak among the crias and lived to tell about it!  Though the learning curve was steep for both of us.

This was one of our sick crias - he's healthy and rambunctious now!

August: David and I built a changing table for Bean. We also celebrated our first wedding anniversary and David left to return to school in Iowa for the year.

The unpainted finished change table

Celebrating our anniversary at the Lego store

Waving good-bye at the train station as David left to go back to school

September: Mom and I went to an alpaca seminar in Ohio and learned how to assist alpacas in difficult births.  Later in the month we went to a wedding in Iowa and got to visit David and other friends!

Alpaca course - learning to deliver difficult crias

Wedding in Iowa

David-Monkey waking up David-Human 

Sad good-byes (notice the growing belly!)

Visiting Summer

Visiting Chelsea Bell

Paying a surprise visit to Kathy

Visiting with Talia

And that's all for this post.  Hopefully I'll get October's update up soon...No promises though.   Facebook, of course, has more pictures!

Introducing: Bean

David and I are pleased to announce the pending arrival of our little bundle of joy: Bean.
Bean is expected to arrive in mid to late December and we are eager for Bean's arrival.  In the  meantime, here are some question and answers about Bean.

Is Bean a boy or a girl?
Bean is either a boy or a girl.  We will find out in about 6 months, right after we see Bean's face.

Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?
We will both be happy as long as Bean is healthy, regardless of whether Bean is a boy or a girl.

Have you been sick?
Yes.  But as long as I take my Diclectin I'm okay.

What about school?  I heard that David was going back to Iowa...
Yes, David is going back to Iowa to finish off his BA at Central.  Due to visa requirements, he has been unable to get work in Canada.  Without an income, we can't afford to send him to school here.  Additionally, it would take 2-3 years here for him to finish his degree whereas he can do it in one at Central, and earn an income at the same time.

What about you?  Are you going with him?
No.  I will be staying here.  Because of medical costs it is not feasible for me to be in the US during pregnancy and delivery.  It would cost a lot of money that we don't have.  Here it is covered by the government, so financially it is better for me to stay here.  I will be continuing my schooling at Tyndale, taking online courses.

Won't that be ridiculously hard?
Yes.  There will be nothing easy about it, but it is something that has to happen at this point. Thankfully we have Skype and e-mail and Facebook...  we'll be able to stay in touch.  It won't be the same as being together, but it will help.

Will David be back before Bean is born?
Hopefully.  It all depends on when he writes his exams and when Bean decides to show up.  It is our prayer that Bean will wait until David is home before he/she comes, but Bean will come when Bean is ready to come.

What is the plan after Bean is born?
We will work on getting Bean a passport as soon as possible, ideally before it is time for David's graduation in May.  David does intend on coming back to Canada at this point and pursuing a Master's degree.  The college he has looked at would allow him to work off campus and thus be able to continue providing income for us, making it a lot easier for him to live in Canada and us to be together as a happy family.

How can I help out?
At this point not a whole lot of help is needed, but once David leaves to go back to school in August, and especially after Bean is born, there will be more ways to help.  In the meantime, the best support can be given through prayer - both for my health and for Bean's health.   I am planning on setting up a Facebook group where I can post specific prayer requests for Bean and I throughout the pregnancy.  If you would like to be part of it, let me know and I will be sure to add you.