21 Day Sugar Detox Adventure

21 Day Sugar Detox Day 11 and still holding fast.  I have never in my life gone without sugar for 11 days.  That seems like a ridiculous thing for me to say.  I've spent large chunks of my life on diets.  I've spent the last 11 years trying to eat a mostly traditional diet.  I've been paleo for long stretches in the past 3 years.  In all that time I still managed to get my sugar fix.  Before you judge,  I wasn't cheating with Twinkies or Little Debbie Nutty Bars. *sigh*  I was getting my sugar in forms that were perfectly allowable on any and all of the previously mentioned eating plans.  I could ingest tons of sugar and still come in under my POINTS thanks to lots of low fat, high sugar treats. Whole milk puddings, soaked grain breads, pies with a crust made with real lard are excellent for the sugar addict following a traditonal diet.  And the web is full of recipes for paleo friendly versions of your favorite desserts and treats.  Cookies sweetened with dates?  Dates are a fruit, how can that be bad for you?  Yep,  any diet I was on the first thing I did was figure out how to make allowable versions of those foods that got me here in the first place.  Don't get me wrong, if we are speaking strictly blood sugar, high fiber,high fat, naturally sweet treats are waaaay better for me than my beloved Nutty Bars. But in the end sugar is sugar is sugar and it's all bad for me.  That was a painful sentence type.

Here is what I have learned about myself in the past ll days while doing the 21 Day Sugar Detox.

1.     I think about sugar a lot.  A LOT!

No I don't sit around like a young drooling child dreaming of raiding Willy Wonka's  candy factory....very often.  The first four days of this detox was me having a continuous inner monlog about how I didn't need stevia in my morning decaf, how I could use oil and vinegar on my salad instead of Russian dressing.  I don't even like Russian dressing but guess what it's loaded with?  I had to convince myself that my craving for an orange Izze was really a craving for vitamin C, easily solved by eating a bell pepper.  It was very n.oisy in my head those first few days.  Then I learned something else important.


2.     I don't have to think about sugar a lot.

After the first week it has become pretty simple to pass up many treats that used to plague me if I "deprived" myself of them.  I've heard this over and over from people that went on Atkins or other really low carb regimens.  I never stayed on a strict low carb diet long enough to feel that.  I had begun to doubt that I would ever have that ability.  I just needed a longer and stricter detox period than many people.  The first four days I didn't even consume any fruit or  dairy products. I don't feel compelled to eat sugary treats when they are available.  On day 5 of my sugar detox my family was baptised.  To celebrate we invited friends and family over to our house for cake and punch.  If you know me at all, you know that cake is my favorite food.  I stayed out of the kitchen and I visited and had the best time.  At the end of the evening I realized that I hadn't sat around having an internal pity party because I couldn't eat cake.  I hadn't thought about it much at all.  That was the turning point where I decided I wasn't making a big sacrifice I was just making a good choice.

3.     I can live this way for the rest of my life.

Living with type 2 diabetes is like trying to solve a puzzle.  There are so many components to put together when trying to even live with the disease, much less reverse it. You think you have all the pieces in the right place but then something new pops up that you have to deal with.  But what you eat is most definitely the main component.  I have learned that I absolutely can control the evil voice in my mind that is telling me to go through the drive through or have a cookie.  I can even get through restless periods or boredom without eating my way out of it.  This is big people!

I am half way through the official detox and I feel better than I have in a couple of years.  My blood sugars that have been very high have come down slowly but surely to much better levels.  I have energy to take my toddler out in the hot Texas sun to ride her tricycle.  I have energy to clean my kitchen late at night after our guests have left.  I'm feeling more positive, happy, and calm then I have in a while.  I have the energy and desire to write a blog post!  While starting the detox felt like a big last ditch effort to control my diabetes it has become an empowering event in my life that has let me feel like I have regained the upper hand again.  Not bad for a mere 11 days.

A Socially Acceptable Addiction

     "I'm addicted to sugar."  I know a lot of people who say this and then follow it up with a little laugh and a roll of their eyes.  Is this because they think they're joking?  Maybe they think that sugar can't be a real addiction like cocaine, heroin, or alcohol.  Well, they need to think again.  Would you like a peek inside of my head for just a moment?  Don't be scared, I really do have conversations with myself inside my head all the time.  Heck, I probably have whole conversations with you inside my head all the time.

First thought upon waking this morning:

 "Okay, no sugar or grains today…period." <a moment of silence>

 "But I can't drink my coffee black!"  

"Yes you can!"

"Okay..." *sigh*

I then proceeded to have one cup of black coffee. I ate my grain free and sugar free breakfast.  With my breakfast I drank another cup of coffee.

     ”a little sugar and whole cream won't hurt anything"

     ”okay but you can have only one teaspoon and plenty of cream."

I followed that cup up with another.  Then I decided it was great idea to make some chocolate chip meringue cookies.  

     "Chocolate chip cookies sure do sound good."

     "I shouldn't make those.  It will kill my blood sugar."

     "If I make meringues they will be grain free.  I can reduce the amount of sugar and use sucanat instead of regular sugar. 

     ”That’s not too bad.  The kids could have much worse."

     ”At least these won't be full of high fructose corn syrup and other nasty ingredients."

   For lunch I made some grain free crackers that I served with almond butter, raw cheese, and apples. 

     ”You know what? The kids would sure enjoy a glass of chocolate milk with that."

     "They sure would and I guess I'll have some too since I've already blown the whole no sugar thing today."

So yes, we washed down an otherwise healthy lunch with chocolate milk.  The only member of my family safe from my self destructive behavior is Little Bit who is too young to know what she is missing.

     Are these conversations any different than one that an alcoholic trying to kick the habit would have?  No.  Wait; there is one major, glaring difference I see.  Most alcoholics are sensible enough to not make a gin and tonic for the kiddos at lunch time.  Sugar is a socially acceptable addiction. It's no less harmful than drugs or alcohol but readily available in steady supply to even the youngest and most vulnerable members of our society.  I am my kids’ dealer.  I am diabetic.  I know that they are genetically predisposed to it so I try my best to feed them well and teach them sound nutrition.  Then I feed them sugar.  I think a little here and there won't hurt but if I am honest with myself, those every now and then treats tend to happen on an almost daily basis.  Even if they go a day without some sort of sweet, I am sure to have some.

Do you need further proof of the serious nature of sugar addiction?  In a French study presented at the 2007 annual meeting of the Society for Neuroscience, rats given a choice between water sweetened with saccharin or cocaine overwhelmingly chose the sweetened water.  If the amount of cocaine was increased, they still chose the saccharin water.  Given a choice between sugar water and cocaine, the sugar water won. It is thought that sugar actually causes a more intense reward signal in the brain than cocaine!  I have no doubt.

These internal conversations I've shared with you are not unusual.  I battle with myself like this on a daily basis.  I know that I will battle this addiction for the rest of my life.  Well meaning friends and family, that wouldn't think of offering me alcohol if I were an alcoholic, will continue to offer me my favorite treats.  I know I will be faced with them at parties and holidays. Do I want them to stop?  Heck no! I would be sad if my mom didn't make me a cake for my birthday or if my husband didn't buy me that small box of my favorite chocolates for Valentine's day. The emotional pull that sugar has on my life is a topic for another day.  I know that I will not go the rest of my life without sugar but I sure hope to spend about 90% of my time without it.  I'll write here about my progress and share tips and recipes that help me along the way.  I'd love to hear your tricks and tips too.  The next time I'm invited to a party I hope they have a big table full of cocaine.  I can totally pass that up!  Cake... well that’s another story all together.

Birth Story of the Littlest Rongey Part 3

And now for the rest of the story.  This is the exciting conclusion and it is a bit longer than the previous installments  but I couldn't find a good place to break it up.  I hope you enjoy it.

By this point, I have been in labor over 12 hours and time all starts to run together.  My contractions had picked up a little in intensity since the exam but I was still able to stay on top of them and have conversations in between.  I know that somewhere around 9 my friend J showed up.  This was an exciting moment for me.  I knew it was  the real deal.  She was there for moral support and she acted as my doula.  She was there because this home birth  thing was old hat to her.  She’s had 5 children all at home.  I was privileged enough to be present at the birth of her fifth child.  I knew that  when the going got tough and I was  in the trenches she was going to be the feminine voice that could calm, center, and reassure me.  Her mere presence gave me a boost of confidence. 

     As the day drug on certain events stand out but it was mostly me working through contractions while K or J rubbed my back or arms.  Then someone would try and make me drink water, eat, or go to the bathroom.  It seemed after every single contraction I was asked if I needed one of those three things.  I know it wasn’t that frequent but it became humorous to me.  I had been so excited about eating and drinking during labor.  My only other experiences had been c-sections where I’d been starved for 12 hours before and then only allowed liquids for 24 hours after.  The funny thing is, I didn’t particularly want to eat.  I would eat a little cottage cheese or something to humour my midwives but I didn’t really want it.  Funny how that works.

      Sometime in the afternoon, M suggested that maybe I would like to labor in the tub.  I was still on top of my contractions but they were definitely longer and I was softly voicing many of them.  That tub was bliss.  I got in and immediately felt my whole body relax.  I was amazed at how well it helped with the pain.  I leaned back against the side and would fall asleep.  When a contraction hit I would easily cope and then I would go back to sleep.  I think M was hoping that the relaxing effect of the water would help me to dilate faster but after a couple of hours it was apparent that wasn’t happening.  My labor seemed to slow down considerably.  I enjoyed this break and was secretly hoping that she didn’t notice but who did I think I was fooling?

       Well, as the day s-l-o-w-l-y turned into early evening I got “the talk.”  This is when M and E took me aside and very lovingly but very firmly told me that we could go on like this for days and days.  It was time for me to get to work.  If  I wanted to have this baby I was going to have to do some work for it.  I was going to have to have some contractions in positions that I would hate and yes, that included sitting backwards on the toilet.  At this moment I was so mad I wanted to cry.  I was angry that they were giving me this talk.  Didn’t they know that I had been working hard all these long hours?  Did they think I was just pretending my contractions were more intense than they were?  Did they really think I was being lazy?  These were the irrational thoughts that were going through my head as I listened.  With a pout, I quietly responded that I would do whatever they asked me to do.  I knew deep down inside that I was going to have to work harder if I wanted this to happen.  I knew that my contractions weren’t doing what they were supposed to.  But I was tired and I had to have my little pity party first.

       Now for another experience that, before I was actually in labor, sounded so divine.  M suggested that K and I go out for a walk and I should walk through my contractions.  It was a warm evening for January.  The sun was setting and it was really a beautiful time of day.  We began walking but I would stop during a contraction and lean on K and sway as inconspicuously as  I could. He kept gently reminding me that I needed to walk through them but they hurt too badly, so I ignored him.   Every once in awhile one of our neighbors would drive by and I would feel very self conscious.   After one go around our little cul-de-sac we went back in.  M  greeted us at the door and sent us back out.  I was not happy.  The second time around I attempted to walk through the contractions.  That was painful!  At this point I felt the most terrifying and painful sensation, my body was pushing.  I couldn’t control it.  I knew I wasn’t fully dilated.  I hadn’t felt any of the traditional warning signs of transition.   I got very worried.  We finished the walk around the street and then we went back in.  M sent us back out again!  It was almost dark and getting pretty chilly.  We walked part of the way down the street and then another big pushy contraction hit and I said, “I want to go back in.”  K tried to convince me to finish the walk but I was too scared.  We went inside and I told M I’d had several involuntary pushing contractions.  She looked at me with a strange look on her face.  She offered to check me and I said yes.  I was at a 6 and the baby was + 2.   I was thrilled that I’d made it so far past 3 but scared because my body kept pushing every few contractions.

       The next couple of hours were spent trying to speed things up.  I had to have several contractions in the one place I said I would never get caught during a contraction again, the toilet!  I sat backwards on the toilet while K rubbed my back and I made it through several torturous contractions.  I sat on the birthing ball and rotated my way through many more contractions.  The tone of the contractions had definitely changed.  They were strong and longer and very regular.  My blissful,” I’m having a baby at home!” attitude disappeared.  I was exhausted.  We were over 24 hours into this now, and I was having a hard time staying on top of each contraction.  They didn’t want to let me into the tub yet.  I think because of the way it had slowed my labor earlier.  I tried getting into the shower but I hated it.  I always came back to my beloved, red birth ball.  The contractions on it were intense but I felt I could handle them.  It’s like I was in my safe place.

      Sometime in the early evening, M and E decided that maybe I should get back in the birth tub.  I think it was clear to them that my contractions were way more intense then they should be at 6cm.  I don’t know if they understood how powerfully my body was pushing every few contractions but  I think they wanted me to relax as best I could so I could get a grip on the pain.  I got in the tub.  E was made my drill sergeant. I cannot overstate how important she was to me at this point in my labor.  She single-handedly got me back into the right mindset.  She had to convince me to get into positions that I did not want to be in to labor.  She wanted me to try the proposal position, one  knee on the floor of the pool and one knee up.  I hated it.  The pushing was intensified and I was still terrified that my cervix would swell and we would end up transferring to the hospital.  Everyone reassured me that feeling a little pushy this far along and, considering the station of the baby, was nothing out of the ordinary.  My midwives and J promised me that it was perfectly normal.  I had been trying to keep from pushing.  E said to let my body push if I wanted but not to help it any.  With everyone’s comforting reassurance I relaxed.  I wasn’t helping the pushing at all anyhow.  It was totally involuntary but I felt much calmer now that I realized it was normal.  E kept making me get into the proposal position every contraction.   Then she bargained with me and said if I did 2 contractions on my knees then I could sit for the third.  I took her up on it and her sincere sympathy for my exhaustion was just what I needed at that moment.  E has a gift for  knowing how to motivate a woman that feels she is at the end of her rope.  I dug deep and found my inner strength and motivation.   I then began to force myself to get onto my knees for every contraction.  As I did this the pushy contractions got more frequent until I was pushing with almost every one.  At this point my friend J quietly whispered, “let yourself feel the  power.”  It was exactly what I needed and became my mantra through my contractions.  It wasn’t pain, it was power flowing through me. I labored for a long while in there.  After a while I think my midwives realized that my body wasn’t just a “little pushy” but that I was full on pushing.  E tried to coach me to take it easy and not help but I couldn’t do anything about it.  At some point, it seemed that I was getting close and our birth photographer was called but  knew I wasn’t ready to push.  I could tell that the pushing wasn’t doing anything.  Each contraction made my whole body shake and it felt like the baby was slamming into my cervix.  M asked if she could examine me again so I got out of the tub.

      After  3 hours of hard, hard work I had gone from 6cm to 6.5cm but the baby was at +3 station.  The baby had come down but my cervix wasn’t  dilating.  M calmly explained my options to me.  She said she was willing to do something she had never done before.  She would attempt to manually dilate me from a 6.5cm to 10cm during contractions.  She warned that it would be very painful.  My other option was to transport to the hospital and she would absolutely support that decision. At this point,  K became very concerned.  He wanted to understand completely what would happen if I was just allowed to continue labor.   M said she was concerned that my cervix would tear.  While they were having this conversation I had already made up my mind.  J suggested that maybe K and I would like to be alone to discuss it but I just looked at him and said,”what’s to discuss?  I’m not transporting.”  In the most loving and supporting manner, he put his fears aside and trusted me.  I laid on my back on the bed, which was torture aplenty on its own, and M dilated me through several contractions.  I kept waiting for an explosive pain but it never came.  It was like all the nerves in my cervix were numb.  Thank goodness for small favors. We made good progress on the bed then I had to lean over the bed and we repeated the procedure.  The last set of contractions were spent on the birth chair.  This is a famous contraption that has saved at least 50 of M’s clients from c-sections.  I was determined  to add to that statistic.  I pushed long hard through each contraction as M dilated me.  At some point in all this M said she could see the head and did I want to touch it?  I reached down and touched it but I couldn’t even comprehend what I was feeling, I was so focused on getting the job done.  In 45 minutes I went from a 6 to 10 with just a lip of cervix left.  That last bit was the worst.  The second the lip was gone I felt the baby drop between my legs.  I leaped up from the birthing chair and  jumped into the birth tub.

       I was so excited to be at this moment.  K got in with me. The kids and my mom and mother-in-law all gathered round to witness my triumph.  I put my hand on the baby’s head as I pushed.  I talked to the baby as it slipped back up in between pushes trying to encourage it to find it’s way out.  I felt the much expected but still shocking burn of the baby crowning.  I tried to ease it out but I will confess that after so many hours of pushing I was ready to be done!   The head was born and on the next contraction the body slid right out.  As a parting gift to me, the baby kicked me on it’s way out.  It was the coolest thing I think I have ever felt!  It had taken me just a hand full of pushes to birth the baby once my cervix got out of the way.  K caught the baby and placed it on my chest.  I just kept saying, “I did it!” over and over through my tears.  I wanted to stay in that moment for a long, long time but I realized there was a crowd of people around wanting to know the gender.  I held the baby away from me and looked at my 10 year old daughter and said calmly, “Emma you have a sister.”  A very loud cheer went up in the room.  It could not have been more perfect.  I got the homebirth I wanted and a girl too!  I couldn’t believe my good fortune.  I still can’t. I  have replayed her birth over and over just savoring the opportunity I had been given.  I was given a chance to “reset” my birth history.  I was no longer a high risk diabetic mother.  I became a “normal” women able to push my baby out under my own power, in my own space.  It was not a textbook perfect birth but it was perfect to me.

     I understand every day how indebted I am to my family and the people that supported me on this healing journey.  I can’t say enough how much I appreciate how M and E patiently and calmly stayed with me and worked with me through every hurdle that was thrown at me during my labor.  I am thankful for the support my family showed even though a few of them had some fear about me attempting a homebirth. They remained supportive and trusted that I would make the right decision. And of course, K, who never once doubted I could do it.  I thank you all with all of my heart and will forever be grateful to you.

Here is the link to my birth slide show if you’d like to view it.  It does contain pictures of the actual birth.

 http://www.visualempathy.com/blog/2011/02/09/the-birth-of-julianne-corinna/  

Birth Story of the Littlest Rongey Part 2

     Here is part 2 of my extremely long birth saga.  

  Friday the 21^st I decided that I needed to go ahead and make a meal plan for the weekend and go grocery shopping.  I’d lived all week thinking that “today is the day” and had been wrong everyday.  I figured I couldn’t count on anything happening so I should go on with life as normal.  I got the kids in the car and headed to the grocery store about 4:00 in the afternoon on a Friday.  It was incredibly busy.  I became increasingly agitated as the trip went on.  I thought at first that it was just the crowded, loud store but as I was standing in line at the pharmacy, I realized I was having regular contractions.  They weren’t too bad, just slightly uncomfortable and short but they were coming at regular intervals.  I figured they were just Braxton-Hicks.  We finally got what we needed and got out.  By the time I got home I was so agitated and ready to be in my own space that I started thinking my body was trying to tell me something.  I was glad to see my husgand K's car in the driveway when we got there.  He’d come home a little early.  I went inside and told him, “I don’t think I should be driving anymore until this baby gets here.”  Some of the contractions on the way home were strong enough that I wanted to concentrate on them but I had to pay attention to the road instead.

       I went into the office  where he was working and started doing spirals on the huge, red birth ball that my midwife had let me borrow.  I had been using it to try and bring the baby down and encourage labor.  Now this ball became my best friend.  It felt good to spiral through a contraction.  After a while I started leaning my head on K's  chest while I spiraled through my contraction.  Not because they hurt so badly but because it just felt wonderful and comforting to have him there.

       We timed some of the contractions and they were mostly 15 seconds long, a few were 20, and about 7 to 10 minutes apart.   I felt yet another one of those familiar gushes that I’d been having all week.  I went to the bathroom but this time the pad was stained with a light brown color.  This worried me a little so we decided to call the midwife.  She felt it was probably meconioum and if I was in labor that it was no big deal but if this wasn’t actual labor then it was probably time for a little intervention.  She said that she and her student would get their stuff together and head on over. 

     The contractions kept coming and were getting slightly longer.  We decided to call  our birth photographer and see if she would come take some early labor pictures.  Being a very busy mother of 4, she was taking a rare and much needed night out with a friend when I called her.  I felt so bad interrupting her dinner but like the amazing friend she is, she got her equipment and came on over around 9:30.  This is one of my favorite parts of the whole birth.  It was such a wonderful atmosphere of quiet excitement.  Nobody knew that our baby was on it’s way except our immediate family, our photographer, and our midwives.   The big kids were so sweet.  They were happy and kept coming to check on me but they were quiet and left me alone to work through my contractions.  We had disscussed how too much distraction could slow my labor down and I think they were so excited to meet this baby that they didn’t want to take any chances.  We got pictures of  the kids reading a book about homebirth with the whole family huddled on the bed together.  One of my favorite photos ever!  

      The midwives(we'll call them M and E ) arrived around 11:30 and got things set up.  My contractions were a little longer now, maybe 20-30 seconds, and a little stronger but I worked through them with ease.  In between we chatted and joked around.  I puttered around the kitchen a bit thawing food that I had made a week before in anticipation of feeding my family and my birth team.  The kids went to bed around 11 but my youngest son made me promise that if the baby was coming we would get him up because he wanted to see it.  I promised him but I don’t think he entirely believed me.  He was afraid he was going to miss the whole thing.  This birth was to be a good lesson in patience for him.

      I had been in my bedroom for most of the evening and M suggested we go to the living room for a change of pace.  E went to lay down and get some rest.  It was so quiet and peaceful.   I sat on the birth ball and bounced my way through contractions and we talked.  We talked about nutrition and birth and how different this was from all my medicalized births.  We talked about how amazing and wonderful it was that I had done it.  We talked about how hard I had worked to stay off of insulin this pregnancy.   I had let my body go into labor naturally and I was at home, in my own space, laboring away.  That was the first time I allowed myself to really feel a sense of victory.

      After a while, my sweet husband started dozing on the couch and  I suggested he go get some sleep.  I think it was somewhere between 1 and 2 in the morning.  He was reluctant but saw the sense in it and off he went to bed.  M and I hung out just a little longer in the living room talking.  The contractions weren’t too bad.  I’d close my eyes and breathe through them and then just pick the conversation back up where I’d left off.  I loved sitting in the quiet house, just me and my good friend  talking and laboring.  It was exactly what I had imagined when I had dared to imagine it. A little after 2am  I mentioned to that I was tired and wished I could sleep.  M hopped into action and built me the most intensly comfortable nest of pillows on my bed next to my sleeping husband.  She went off to catch some rest as well.   I snuggled in and fell asleep.  I  would wake and work through a contraction and fall right back to sleep.  It amused me to no end that I was sleeping through labor.  I slept on and off like this for around an hour when I was awakened by that familiar gush I’d been experiencing all week.  I got up and went to the bathroom and back into bed.  I fell asleep again and managed to get two hours sleep before a contraction hit me that I could not work through half asleep.  I tried to go back to sleep afterward but it was impossible.  My midwife heard me up in the room and came in to see how I was doing.  I was fine but  I wanted back on that beautiful, red birth ball.  No more cozy pillow nest for me.

       She offered to check me and I took her up on it.  I was at the dreaded 3 cm.  I say ‘dreaded’ because that is as far as I got with my last attempt to VBAC, even on pitocin for 6 hours.  I knew mentally that I had to let go of my fear of being “only a 3” and keep working.  I had to get past that number so I could let go of the self doubt.  M, I believe, having the attuned sense of the experienced midwife that she is could feel my doubt hang over me like a dark cloud at that moment.  She praised me for how well I was doing.  She told me that she was surprised that I was already this far.  I told her that I was tired and I didn’t know what I was going to do if I had hours of this before me.  She told me that I did have hours of this before me.  I was a VBAC who had never pushed a baby out.  I could be doing  this for days and I needed to pace and prepare myself.  Nothing like the hard truth early in the morning.  That did it’s job.  I got recentered and focused and went back to work.  It was somewhere between 5 and 6 in the morning when my youngest son walked into my room to see if he had missed the baby being born.  I tried to send him back to bed but he was having none of it.  That is when we decided to call my mom.  She was going to be the kid wrangler and house doula.  K had called her at midnight the night before just to give her a heads up.  She was already up and waiting for the call.  Once she was on her way, I could totally relax knowing the other kids were being taken care of.  The next few hours were spent in my bedroom mostly sitting on my beloved birth ball and rotating through my contractions.  It was blissful.  I had my mp3 player loaded up with my birth playlist and I let it repeat while I did my thing. K would rub my back or my shoulders.  He’d hug me tight and let me just lean on him.  We talked, mostly about how exciting and cool it was that we were doing this thing!  He was so wonderful.  He took such good care of me.  Everything was so safe.  Every once in a while I would sit on the bed during a contraction.  I started to joke that our super soft bed stopped my labor but it seriously did slow down contractions.  The birth ball seemed to be the most productive place for me to be.  At one point I went to the restroom and had a contraction on the toilet.  It was seriously intense and I vowed I would not get caught there again during a contraction. (this is foreshadowing.)     By this point, I have been in labor over 12 hours.

Birth Story of the Littlest Rongey Part 1

Okay, so here I am starting my own blog.  How predictable!  I can barely reply to emails in a timely manner so how can I even imagine I'm going to keep up with this little project?  Well, I'm giving it a go anyhow.  Nothing ventured, nothing gained right?  In honor of this new, life changing adventure I think my first post should be about another life changing adventure.  The birth story of my youngest kidlet.  It's a loooong story though so I will take pity on you and post it in installments.  Hey, I didn't birth her in five minutes so you can't read her entire story in five minutes either. Here you go: (drum roll)

by the way if you don't want to read about the actual birth process you might want to stop here and come back some other time when I post about my crazy nutrition philosophies, real food and traditional cooking, homeschooling or my adorable kids.