These days

I'm writing over here these days. It isn't just news about our family though, just a little bit of everything. You can also find me here.

About freakin' time!

Ok, I know, I know. My posting has stunk to high heaven... as in, non-existent. I won't bore you with the details as to why I haven't, besides, being lazy isn't a good reason (is home schooling and being sick?). I'm likely shutting down this blog and starting a new one as we open a new chapter in our lives. But, for now, I'm back to blogging here.

And to start, I have a super long post about the birth of our 4th daughter, Evangeline Claire.



First, the details:
Evangeline Claire Martin-Weber
Born at home
January 10, 2008
8lbs, 8oz
21 inches long

And now, the very, very, very long story.

The Birth of Good News

Tuesday night, January 8, 2007 I started with my normal pattern of irregular prodromal labor contractions but for the first time I had a complete peace that even if it wasn’t “the real thing” our little girl would be born soon and in the right time. Somehow, I knew it would be soon but didn’t know when soon would actually be. Jeremy and I had a heart to heart talk that if I went past 42 weeks I wasn’t willing to go to the hospital to birth unless we knew there was a good reason beyond some arbitrary date and he actually agreed to help me have an unassisted childbirth if everything looked ok and that was what I wanted… but only if I went past the magic date. I think this was important for me to know and to be able to relax. Wednesday morning came and though there was no baby I noticed that I had a shift in my attitude: instead of impatience about the baby coming I had hope and excitement for the future and began working on plans for following God's call to France. My contractions never did let up but were consistently irregular all day. It was a normal day with the girls, some house cleaning, school work, help clean up some empty lots in the neighborhood and visit with neighbors, and a walk to the park to expend our extra energy. That evening I grew restless over dinner and told Jeremy we needed to get stuff together for the girls to go to our friends. We got the girls in bed, cleaned house some more, I took a bath, hung out and watched Letterman while chatting to friends online, and timed some contractions. Though they were enough to get my attention, they were really inconsistent in strength and timing, I was afraid to get my hopes up so we went to bed. I dozed off and on but the contractions made it hard to sleep, a pattern that I had been living through for weeks at this point. Honestly, I didn’t think it was real labor and I was just getting mad that I was going to struggle to get another night’s sleep. I was right about not getting any sleep! After about 100 trips to the bathroom and regular bloody show I gave up on sleeping and got in the bath again- after about two contractions in there I flew out of the tub saying “why do I try that every time it just makes me uncomfortable!” We started timing the contractions again (“because I’ve either got to stop them or make them do something- it’s shit or get off the pot.”) and sometimes they were 3 min. apart and then sometimes 8, occasionally even close to 15, the strength and duration of each varied. Even though I was feeling that this was serious I couldn’t believe it was the real thing. However, during one of the contractions around 2.30am I told Jeremy that we may want to call Jane, our midwife at least to give her a heads up that something may be up. Can you tell I still wasn’t convinced? I noticed that if I just ignored what was “supposed” to be happening more seemed to get done so I decided that I’d tell Jane that I was fine, she could come and see for herself what was going on but that I didn’t need her there. She decided to come, later she told me that was because she already knew I’d rather go it alone and she figured that the one phone call was all I’d be willing to make. She may have been right. Jane showed up around 3am and watched me for a bit before deciding to set-up “just in case” and then she headed to the couch to go back to sleep. The contractions were completely manageable for me, particularly if I could just completely relax through them. We use the Bradley Method, or the Husband Coached Childbirth method, which I love and as the contractions intensified Jeremy helped me settle into a comfortable position for sleep imitation and would tell me how much he loved me, how strong I am, to relax anywhere there was tension, etc. When a terrible pain started in my left hip because of the baby’s position sometimes I would have a harder time relaxing through a contraction and would end up on my hands and knees locking eyes with Jeremy. If it was particularly bad I’d just say “tell me!” or “Help me!” and he would tell me he loves me in the most calm, soothing voice, his eyes never leaving mine. I love my husband so much more after every birth experience we share together. Those 3 little words are the single most effective phrase to get me to relax and stay calm- hearing them for hours on end really doesn’t get old.

Around 5.30am I felt we should call our dear friend Laura to come help out. Though I still wondered if this was real I knew that even if we went another 2 days without a baby at this point I wanted help for getting food and such. Laura was there for Helena’s birth (a 24+ hour labor, helped support me while I pushed and Jeremy caught) and I looked forward to her calm, female presence. Around the same time Jane called her assistant, I heard her talking to her telling her to come just to beat the traffic but it would be a while yet. Funny, hearing something like that would have potentially disappointed me but I thought “whatever” and let it go. Laura got to our house quickly and quietly came in to say hello. Between contractions she told me how honored she was to be a part of this with us again and I realized that other than Jeremy, she’s the only other person to see me labor and birth more than once. Kinda cool. She asked if it would be ok to read some Scripture she had pulled together for encouragement and support, she tried to read only between the contractions so as not to distract me but they were still so irregular and if she didn’t hear my breathing change she would read through them anyway. It was so cool though, it didn’t distract me at all (and when it did I just vocalized with the contraction and she’d stop but that was usually my hip causing me pain) and some of the passages she read were so beautiful I would feel this deeper connection with my body, God, and the baby and I knew we were on the right track. The pain in my hip became nearly unbearable though and soon I couldn’t do sleep imitation and had to find some movement or positions to help the baby move. I vocalized a lot at this point and would have to mentally tell myself (while Jeremy’s telling me how much he loves me for the 2234987453946813897 time) that the baby was actually going to come out through my cervix and my vagina and not my hip. Yeah, the actual contractions of the uterus were nothing, it was the hip that took everything I had. Things began picking up pretty quickly and I decided that even though it hurt I was going to squat through as many contractions as I could to speed things along. Got through three and by the end of each of them I was on hands and knees. Jane and her assistant Tracy (who rocks, BTW, she had HG with her dd and fought for me all the time- she’s a nurse at the hospital I was in) came in to check and get heart tones, telling me everything is fine. I asked what we can do about the hip and she tells me we could break my bag of waters and get the baby out faster but that’s about it (other than the tons of positions and movement we’d already tried), I just stuck my tongue out at her and she agreed that it was early yet to come to that. The three women leave and Jeremy helps me to the bathroom (to pee AGAIN!) and I sit on the toilet for a second before jumping off onto my hands and knees for a kick ass contraction. Though I didn’t know it at the time, the women were out in the living room and Laura asked if I’d gone through transition yet, they told her no and that it would be a while still. She said something about how some of my vocalizations sounded like I was getting close to pushing, they told her I was nowhere near that. Funny thing was, Laura was totally right. Jeremy and I head back to the bedroom and go through another contraction. I had shut out everyone but Jeremy recognizing the feelings of transition (and savoring the feeling of triumph because I know that means we’re close and it’s real) and decided that though I had been completely against cervical checks I wanted one now, either I’d do it myself or Jane could but I needed to know this was for real. I called for Jane to come tell me what was going on and she checks me and tells me I’m at 8 and that she can feel my bag bulging. Getting back on my knees I have another contraction start (they were still irregular in timing, duration and strength) that built faster and stronger than any I had to that point, I reached for Jeremy saying “TELL ME!” locked eyes with him as he pulled me to him saying he loves me when “pop” my water broke all over him and me. He doesn’t even blink and I don’t look away as we rode out the rest of the contraction but I heared Tracy say “it’s very green.” Through the rest of that contraction my hip began to feel better and I felt my little girl finally tuck her head and slide down to my cervix. After that contraction I kissed Jeremy and told him “we’re going to have a baby!” to which he replied “so I heard!” I looked down at the green mess around us (totally missed the chux pads and hit the sheets, oh well) and sat facing away from Jeremy towards Jane and asked if everything was ok. They got heart tones (perfect!) and told me to expect harder contractions but couldn’t believe it when I said I felt so much better now. They all chatted for about 6 minutes while I rested and enjoyed the feeling of “this is for real” before another contraction came. Everything was so relaxed, we knew I was at 8, knew the baby was finally in the right position, her heart was looking good, the next several contractions were going to be super productive, etc. What was really strange was that I just stayed in this sitting position leaning back against Jeremy, an unusual way for me to labor. The contraction started and I knew it was a totally different animal, this was pushing and that was why I was in that position. I was very quiet at first just breathing but when I felt her moving down in my vagina I began to push with the contraction. Everyone jumped to attention, Jane looks down and says “Uh Jeremy, if you’re going to catch this baby, you need to get on this side of your wife NOW! And Tracy, I need a glove, I need a glove, this baby is coming out!” I also heard her mumble something about “there’s that cervical lip” but I wasn’t sure what she meant. I put my right hand down as I felt her crown and stopped adding any push to the contraction. Jeremy tried twice to get from behind me (HA!) before wrapping his arms around me softly telling me “You catch her, it’s perfect for you to catch her” and I got my left hand down there to apply counter pressure under her head as she slid out into my right hand. Jane got one glove on and checked for the cord (which I barely noticed) and during that one contraction I pushed some more for her shoulders, releasing a gyser of fluid (nasty green with meconium) that drenched Tracy standing there with supplies for Jane, and then I lifted my little girl to my chest. Weak from the intensity of pushing her out I felt as floppy as she was so Jeremy helped me hold her and started rubbing her, Tracy was coming with the suction bulb when our newest daughter let out the biggest, loudest cry I’ve ever heard come from a newborn! We checked her over and covered her with warm towels while she screamed her head off and I got ready to deliver the placenta. Ten min. later the placenta was out and she was nursing like a pro. After weight checks and all of that Evangeline Claire Martin-Weber and I relaxed in the bath 30 min. later and we all enjoyed eggs and spinach (thank you Laura!) with sides and champagne toasting our Good News. Oh, and I loved eating! Though I fought nausea during labor I didn't vomit at all and now I'm completely Hyperemsis free and hungry, it's great!

It was by far the strangest labor I’ve had and I loved it. The pain in my hip was no fun (it wasn’t for her either, she had a bruise and a ridge on her head from her bad position) but every other aspect was simply amazing. Getting to catch my baby was the highlight, what an awesome experience!

Some news

Here's some news to share... more, much more coming soon!

Screwdriver Sketches

You may not initially be impressed by this sketch but, trust me, you should be. This work of art was created by an 8 year old girl. It's true, it's not perfect, she still has a lot to learn but considering that she's 8 there's a lot of promise contained in this sketch. The original sketch is a Christmas gift for someone so I won't get to keep it like I do most of her other pieces so it had to be scanned in for posterity's sake- and so I could brag. The image below is of the same screwdriver sketch about 3 months ago (when she was 7 and it's not a very good scan, sorry) and is just to show some comparison of her developing skills. Ophelia tends to be drawn to the every day things, items she can focus on in one sitting. If it's too big or too detailed she'll become overwhelmed. Something about the screwdriver drew her back to try it again, I'm not sure what but she mentioned how she liked the contrast in how the light reflected off the metal and but there are also some dark areas of deep shading. Anyway, I think it's a beautiful screwdriver. It took her about 10 min. to begin and complete the new sketch, I don't remember how long for the older one.

Any of you artists out there that can give me some advice on how to encourage her without pushing her (I've seen stage parents, I imagine the same thing is possible in art and I don't want to do that) would be much appreciate. I'd love to know what kind of supplies she should have available, how often we should encourage her to draw, what other mediums she should try, etc. Are art classes appropriate at this age? She did participate in an art program after school last year but she hated it and they never seemed to do anything useful (it didn't seem like real instruction, just arts and crafts "art projects") so I didn't push it. Any other (really cheap) ideas you have would be great. Thanks!

Cowgirls

These aren't the best ones, I'll post those later since I'm using some of them as Christmas gifts. Check out more on the new flickr account! http://www.flickr.com/photos/martin-weber/

A few good photos

This was just to give you a taste of a recent photo session we did with the girls and a friends camera. The rest of them will gradually be uploaded to our new flickr site (http://www.flickr.com/photos/martin-weber/). Aren't they beautiful?!

To Give sacrificially

It's taken me a lot longer than normal to "feel" that it was Christmas time this year. In previous years, when my job in part was making Christmas happen for other people (church programs, service orders, Christmas choirs, etc.) Christmas started early for me. We would have to work to make Christmas feel special- we were usually sick of Christmas music by November, wouldn't have time to decorate our house (but dang, the church would look great!) and Christmas shopping had to happen all year long or we would run out of time. I used to work more at Christmas time than I did any other time of the year (Holy week being the only exception) easily putting in 90+ hour weeks from October-December. I was always aware of the holiday spirit- that was my job.


But this year, like last, was different. Last year I was aware of the season because of what I was not doing, this year I just didn't really notice. Moving, changing schools, work and other busyness let the holiday season slip in without much attention on my part. It wasn't that the media somehow let me down by failing to remind me of all the shopping I had to do or that the Advent season slipped away without mention during worship gatherings. We've been playing Christmas music, the girls are coming home with drawings of snowmen, snowflakes and "holiday" items, and every week a family lights a candle on the Advent wreath- I'm even "directing" (I use this term loosely in this sense) a children's Christmas choir. Our tree is up and has been since the weekend after Thanksgiving. But still, even with all this it just hasn't felt like Christmas time to me. I think it's more than just the different work situation, it's even more than our difficult financial situation making it challenging to make ends meet, let alone do the "holiday thing."


The problem, I suspect, stems more from an internal reformation of my view of Christmas. In fact, an internal reformation of my view of life in general. Jeremy and I have begun to challenge much of how we live, to question everything we do, everything we believe. So much of our lives are lived simply because "that's how it's done" and accepted. There are areas of our lives that we have held up to the luminescent light of the Gospel but others that we were preferred to leave in the dark corners of the comfortable common-place status-quo. God has been shining the Gospel light brightly in our lives and somehow we protected those corner shadows but now, slowly and somewhat gently, our protections are eroding and giving way to these Gospel rays. We sense we are on the cusp of radical change and it scares the crap out of me. I'm usually open to change, welcome it with excitement and anticipation but this change is going to be hard, really hard. The change we feel called to is to not fit in, to actually strive to be misfits, to rebel, to stand up and speak out, to serve the poor, the rejected, the unloveable, to become the poor and rejected (ok, so "becoming poor" isn't actually a change... we don't know true poverty though nor are we sure we are intended to but the issue must be examined), to care for the earth and the animals as God instructed Adam to, to stop worshiping things and status, to care for others even if we don't understand them and to live opposite of the "entertain me- me first" culture we have served. In essence, we feel called to deepen our call to live sacrificially in and for Christ. And yes, this scares me. In my arrogant heart I say to myself "Haven't I sacrificed enough? Don't I deserve some kind of break from this sacrificial living stuff?" But instead of a pat on the back and a voice from heaven saying "Well done my good and faithful servant" the Spirit gives me a distinct though gentle "no" to both of those questions. Christ gave his life for me, I don't get to call it quits when I feel like I've had enough and "done my part."


So what does this have to do with getting into the Christmas spirit? A lot actually. Many of us understand what it means to "give until it hurts," particularly around Christmas but most of us have no idea what it means to give sacrificially. We give too much and too little. Those that really need nothing (which is most of us) get a lot but those that need everything get nothing. Our gift giving was originally inspired by the gifts the magi brought to Christ and the gift that Christ brings to us, gifts that were needed: gold for a deeply poor family and funeral herbs for Christ 31 years later. Christ's gift was even more needed: salvation. We celebrate Christ's birth and God's gift to us at Christmas yet we over-give to each other to excess neglecting the One whom we celebrate. Christ tells us that by giving to "the least of these" we give to Him- time, food, money, services, whatever it may be. Held up to the light of the Gospel our Christmas gift-giving begins to look a little tarnished. Reconciling this in the midst of an internal reformation this holiday season has been a challenging experience. I don't know how this is going to resolve yet but Jeremy and I both know that we have to continue exploring these questions.


I don't think gift giving is bad, on the contrary. I think it's great after all, the precedent was set by Christ. But the question that begs to be wrestled with is "who are we giving to and why?" If I am honest then I have to admit that many times in the past I gave to people that I wanted to be in good standing with, people that I was worried I would offend by not giving them something, people that seemed important either by their status or their level of relationship to me. I never seemed to worry about offending Christ, being in good standing with him, or even giving to him based on my relationship with him. If he is truly the most important part of my life then the best gifts and the best part of my time should be given to him but it is rare that I actually do that. To give to Christ of the best of myself then I need to be giving to "the least of these" not the "greatest of these." Have I ever really given to Christ at Christmas? Anything more than lip service? As my pastor, Chris Seay has pointed out several times recently, doesn't it seem rude to give more gifts to the birthday party guests than to the one who the party is for? I know that I need to start making Christmas be about Christ: I want to give to those in true poverty, love those that are outcast, care for those experiencing debilitating hurt. Our family is learning what it means to give sacrificially. We're redefining what it means to be "in the Christmas Spirit."

Mother vs. Mommy

Yesterday Helena and I were watching the Eloise Christmas movie (I was working, she was watching) and there is a scene when Eloise's beautiful mother comes in looking stunning. Helena gasps and says "I want a mother!" "You have a mother silly, I'm your mother." I respond looking up from the laptop. "No, you're mommy." She says with a "get-real" expression on her face. "Well, yes, I'm mommy too but that's the same thing as being your mother." "No it isn't." "No? What's the difference?" Helena looks at me with her head to the side considering this question and says finally: "You're my Mommy." End of discussion. I'm Mommy. Not "mother," not "mom," and not "mum." I'm her Mommy, period. That's all there is to it. And I'm fine with that!

Finally- The Wedding Pictures!

Here come the flower girls... and everyone else!
*Helena
One of the cutest pictures ever!

Lavinia on Grandpa Weber's arm

Helena (and Ophelia) Hiding

Grandpa Weber, Aunt Anna-Lynn, and Ophelia

Grandpa Weber talks with Lavinia and Ophelia before the wedding

Cousin Kaitlyn and Helena

The Martin-Weber Girls

The pictures from Jeremy's sister are finally here! I don't have a lot but here are the ones I do have of our family. The girls were darling, Helena fell asleep during the ceremony and pictures so there are a few of her sleeping or wailing. Ophelia and Lavinia had a good time and enjoyed being all dressed up. We got to see Jeremy's dad for the first time in 6 years, he got to meet Lavinia and Helena for the first time and the girls just loved it. There were a lot of special moments around the September wedding. Enjoy the pictures!

*Jeremy's sister just sent me some more, they aren't in order but I wanted to share them anyway!

Wedding Pictures- getting ready

Getting Ready:

Grandma Weber ties a bow for Helena

Getting ready started the night before with old fashioned rag curls for the girls- chocolate muffins helped the time go by.

Helena and Lavinia getting their hair curled

Helena, almost ready!

The girls waiting to go in!

The bride and the flower girls

Wedding Pictures- the reception

Reception Pictures:
(I only have a couple of these, hope to have more soon)

Grandpa Weber and Lavinia take a spin on the dance floor
(This is was SOOOOO cute!)

Wedding Pictures

Pictures From The Ceremony

Jeremy and his dad played a duet together- what a treat!

Jeremy played the prelude for the ceremony

Daddy had to help Helena get down the aisle- those are his legs there.

Lavinia

Ophelia

The Newlyweds!

The family

Aunt June and a sleeping Helena during pictures

Let sleeping babes lie

The Martin-Weber family all dolled up!