My Mommy Mantras

I think it would be cool if families had 2 mommies instead of one.

You know, three parents, instead of two.

My mom left 2 days ago and yes, the extra help is nice, but it was fun to share every little cool nuance of mothering with her all day long. It doesn't work as well with playdates and mommy groups because those mommies are only interested in their own babies. Lame! I want a mommy to hang out with all day that thinks my baby is the best. Don't you???

Now, when Owen sings his ABCs all the way through or counts to 11 all by himself, I have no one to hooray with but him. This is fun, don't get me wrong, but it has it's limits. All mothers, I think, would agree that it's more fun to celebrate first coos and big poos with someone who really loves your baby, than it is to experience alone.

Plus, let's face it. The transition from one to two is...extraordinary.

My new friend Jeannie has five kids. Yes, FIVE. She said that hardest part was the transition from one to two. Thanks for the validation, Jeannie!

Two things I've learned since being a mother of two: Mothering can be a lonely business and this job ain't for wusses.

Even with two "mommies" it takes a little getting used to...I can barely write what I'm about to because it just about broke my heart in two.

The first day of my mom and I home from the hospital and on our own, the monitor never made it my bedroom the night before. My husband was sleeping in Owen's room, and my mom with me, so Andrew could get up really early and have a productive day at work. So, after Mom and I were up all night long with Sparkles, at 8:57am I woke up in a panic. The noise maker was on so Violet wouldn't wake up Owen, but that made it impossible to hear Owen. Poor baby probably woke up, yelled (for who knows how long...ouch), and fell back to sleep (from exhaustion? God, no!), because he was out for the count when I ran in there freaking out.

The second day, at 7:27am, both kids woke up at the. Exact. Same. Second. We both sat up and looked at each other like, "What do we do? Where do we start?"

The third day, we had Violet's first pediatric visit (I know that I'll get the Mother of the Year award for this one). There is a lot to be said for the man on man possibilities with two mommies with two babies. Here is an example of when even that much help goes awry.

I decided to have the doc listen to Owen's lungs, as well as check Violet, because I suspected that he may have some wheezing. So, after carefully packing up Sparkles and all of her things, and forgetting Owen's prescription entirely, we lugged our everything onto the elevator. When the doors opened on our floor, Owen ran out, and bang! The doors closed! We were on our way to another floor and Owen was abandoned in the lobby of this big office building!

I looked at my mom and the kind woman on the elevator with us (whom I suspected later had probably hit the "close doors" button instead of the "keep doors open" button, I mean, I've never seen doors close so fast! No one got off but my baby boy!), and said, "Is this really happening??!! And then yelling, "What's happening???!!!"

Thankfully, a kind man had stayed with Owen, telling him, "Your mommy will be right back."

After about a year, I made it back to the lobby and when the doors opened, I saw Owen's sweet inquiring face, "Mommy?"

Thank God.

So, now that my mom is gone, I am going through my own trials of getting in the swing of things. Our first trip out as a threesome to the UPS Store was an A+! Very pleased with the execution and organization involved. Thank you, thank you, very much!

Then on to the grocery store. I refuse to go inside anymore since the Publix at Toco Hills has curbside service. Only two Publix stores in the country and one is 3 miles away. Hell, yeah!

You order online and schedule a pick up. When you get there, you ring a bell, much like an ATM situation, and the kindest most wonderful people in the world give your kid cookies while they load up your car. Luxurious. If only I could get them to come home with me and put them all away...

So, that was easy breezy! Now, onto the park!

Total failure. All three of us were crying 7 minutes later on the way out.

So, I tried too much at once, big deal.

I'll get better. Most mommies have been here. Remember to see the humor in it. Everything will be ok.

My Mommy Mantras.

So, alone I will be while I secretly wonder if I have created the world's smartest newborn, as I watch her suck her arm off trying get milk out of it.

I may feel lonely when Andrew works late and I've successfully executed a home cooked meal, that is undeniably awesome, but Owen refuses to even try.

A lonely triumph it will be when I finally, and perfectly recreate an ET photography moment (see above).

But, I'm never really alone...how could I be??? I've been blessed with two great kids. I'll never be alone again!

La,

Cheri

I Scream, You Scream...Holy Crap! What the Heck Was That????

So, I've been joking around saying that if Sparkles was a Native American, her name would be, "One Sock On." It never fails...always only one sock.

Violet is a trip. I know that I'm already at risk for assuming that everything that she does different from Owen is due to her being a girl. Ya know, rather than her just being another human being. But I mean, some of this stuff is just impossible to imagine coming from a boy...already!

How about the fact that I can barely get her to uncross her legs just long enough to change a diaper?? How ladylike! Or, rather than fill her diaper while she eats (Heavens, no!), Sparkles would rather eat, then fill her diaper, then resume...she actually dines while she holds her hand wide open upon her chest as if to say, "Oh, my dear! Excuuuuuse me," in some British baby accent.

Owen ate my breast like an apple while he kept his hands clenched shut ready to take on anyone in a fencing match or like he was about to yell, "go babies!"

Let's take, for instance, her cry. Much, much different from Owen's. When I was trying to get hot after Owen's birth (which I feel like I finally accomplished but only lasted for about 5 minutes before I got knocked up again), I loved me some Stroller Strides. I remember how while we worked out, various babies would cry and everyone knew when it was their baby crying.

Very sweet, I know. But when Sparkles lets out a wail, look out!!! No one is claiming this drama queen is theirs but me, I'm sure of it.

This is no cry. It really is screaming. There's no, "eh, eh," like, "I'm getting uncomfortable, better come and get me before I start crying." Oh no. It's full throttle, horror flick, let it rip, Neve Campbell/Jamie Lee style right off the bat.

In the middle of the night, it's enough to make you jump right out of your skin. I'm hitting my head on the ceiling every time this little one wants to nurse, no shit. And it's not just me that thinks it's remarkable. Everyone who hears it has a comment, I mean, it's hard to hear without acknowledging it's presence...kinda like a train going by...about 5 feet away.

So, I've been calling her my little Pterodactyl. It's very prehistoric and predator bird sounding.

But, I must say, it's also resoundingly girly in every way.

As alarming as it is...I secretly like it.

Just like everything else she does...

La,

Cheri

P.S. As soon as I get the ok from my midwife, Stroller Strides, here I come!

Mother: The Perpetual Worrier and Professional Guilt Carrier

Sparkles is only 4 weeks old today and Owen was admitted to Scottish Rite Hospital yesterday...Needless to say, we got a lot going on over here at the Flake house.

Owen woke up Sunday morning as sick as his little self could be...scared out of his mind and covered with all the yucky stuff that is supposed to be on the inside of his little, sweet body.

Sparkles, on the other hand, hadn't made a diaper in a few days. After a quick suppository, you wouldn't believe the diaper situation over here...yikes!

Violet is doing great, but Owen however, has become quite dehydrated and a pretty sick little boy. As I write, we're waiting to hear from the doctor to see when or if he can be discharged today.

My mom and I sat first, the pediatrician's office, then, in the Emergency room and lastly, by Owen's big, scary, metal barred crib in his hospital room. Just a heart breaker to see your abundantly energetic, downright nutty toddler, lay listlessly all day and evening. When he did wake, he screamed and cried. It was just awful.

When he cried, he cried for his mommy, of course (My mom always jokes that football players never look into cameras and say, "hi dad!"). But, in an effort to prevent cross-contamination to Violet, my mom and I opted to split the kids up for care. She would take Owen and only Owen, and I would take Violet, and only Violet. The decision was a no-brainer. I have to nurse Sparkles, so we would be paired up.

It's one thing to have your baby yell, "mommy!" but a whole other ball game when you can't even touch him. My heart was pretty beat up by the end of the day and I swear, at 21 months, I think Owen became a little mad at me.

Oh, the guilt.

At one point, I couldn't help it, I threw on a hospital sheet and scooped him into my arms and kissed his sweet little head again and again.

Where did he get this? Could I have prevented it? What on Earth would happen to defenseless Violet if she gets it? As any mother would speculate, I was certain that this must, surely and somehow be my fault!

I must have washed my hands 150 times in that hospital room, until finally, Andrew came to stay with Owen overnight so I could get Sparkles, who hasn't had one vaccine shot yet, out of that place.

As "Atlanta's Stress Therapist" I have to say that I was pretty impressed how severe the effects of stress were at the end of the day yesterday. Not having done a damn thing physical (I'm still pretty postpartum), I fell into bed the most tired I have been in ages...and I just birthed a baby!

There are just so many things to worry about now...Not just one, but two! Not just Owen getting Violet sick, but Owen getting worse! Violet getting sick from all those sick kids in the hospital! Who else has Owen exposed??? The list goes on and on...

One walk to the cafeteria and I had about a million more ailments and worries to add to my quickly building repertoire. Kids and babies everywhere...so sick...some injured...absolutely heart breaking.

So, I haven't been able to write all the cute anecdotes, stories and witty nuances about my learning how to care for two because I've been busy doing the jobs that mothers do best: feeling guilty and worrying.

Riddled with guilt. Consumed with worry. I truly feel like a mother now. And now, with two, I have it all doubled.

Good times.

So, here is a prayer going out to all the little kids and babies in the hospital and they're mommies and daddies. God bless you all.

Prayers for Owen for a speedy recovery,

Cheri

P.S. Andrew called right before I clicked "publish post." Owen will be there overnight for another day...my poor baby.

4/21/11: Owen is home and safe and sound. Thank you all for your well wishes and concerns.

Sparkles' Birth Story

April 7th, 2011

Sparkles wasn't due until yesterday...but she's been here for 15 days.

I wanted to spend some quality time with Owen before Sparkles came and just turned his world upside down.

So, on a Sunday, we went to Andrew's mom's farm and let him run around with the donkeys and horses and goats and dogs. Finally spared of the car seat and safety belts, he happily rode in the Gator atop daddy's lap all around the lake and greenhouses. He watched his daddy and uncle play horseshoes (a mediocre performance, at best) and hung out with his GG and Pop.

On Monday, we went to the aquarium. When we visit the pet store, Owen ignores the kittens and puppies and ferrets and birds and beelines right for the fish. He truly has a thing for fish, so, to him, the aquarium is the most amazing place on Earth. He finally paid some attention to the penguins this time so, on the way out, I caved and bought him a stuffed one at the gift shop.

On Tuesday, we went to the zoo. I was pretty bummed that I forgot my camera as Owen ooohed and aaaahed at the new baby panda exhibit and strangely, left the vultures nest kicking and screaming.

On the way out, someone asked me when the baby was coming, which I always found amusing because no one knows no matter where they work, how much experience they've had or how many babies they have delivered. I decided to answer, "it's up to God now," because only He, and perhaps little Sparkles, really knows.

Little, little, little did I know...

Andrew and I went to bed early that Tuesday night. Turned out to be a nice blessing to get in almost 6 hours of sleep before taking on the arduous task of labor. I woke up at 3:15, with a knock your socks off contraction. For an hour, they were exactly 5 minutes apart. "Hmm," I thought, "that seems pretty damn regular."

I’d been having the real deal contractions as well as Braxton Hicks contractions for a few weeks. I was pretty pumped because I hoped that it meant free centimeters...something that I never got the first time around.

Just in case you haven't read my first birth story (which admittedly is quite lengthy, but there was nothing short about it), I gotta just throw in a quick recap just to get you up to speed. The speedy version? Owen and I labored for 69 hours and then pushed for an additional 3. It was excruciating and riddled with hopelessness and failure to progress; probably due to lack of sleep. But we finally did do it...together, naturally, safe and sound.

I didn't want to be all drama, but with Owen, nothing was regular until the very last hours and that got me moving. I woke up Andrew at 4:30am and told him that I thought that I was in labor.

Now, to his credit, this is a guy that watched me labor for 3 days. There was no sense of urgency or alarm whatsoever. He sat up, put his glasses on and began thumbing through our HypnoBirthing book. He began reading aloud about false labor. "These 'tricksters' can have the mother believing that she is actually in labor, when in fact..." BAM! I threw my eye covers at him. "This is not false labor!"

I panted coming out of a whopper contraction and said, "I think we need to call someone. We need to get ready to go." Andrew looked at me blankly, "who should we call?"

Was he serious??? Um, my midwife? My doula? Someone to take care of our child asleep in his crib???

I called Alice, my doula. No answer. I left a message saying that I thought I was in labor.

Andrew called my midwife. She was going to meet us at the hospital.

Andrew also called Kay, the midwife that delivered Owen and wanted to be at Sparkles’ birth. She asked Andrew if she could "listen" to a contraction. Andrew, confused, held the phone up to me while I wailed through a contraction. "It's time to go," Kay said calmly. She said to call her when they checked me at admissions.

I called Alice again...nothing. Tried her home number, no luck. I remembered her saying something in a text the previous day about being at a delivery of twins all night long...

Andrew got in the shower (what???) and I put on my cute, little, black birthing dress. Hair back, teeth brushed, contacts in, flops on and I was ready.

Again, Alice. Again, nothing.

I look up, Andrew is running water and preparing to shave! If you know my husband, you know how "Andrew" this is...to want to be clean shaven for the birth.

"ANDREW! WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR YOU TO SHAVE!"

Earlier that evening, I had brought over some BBQ pork to my next door neighbor's house because they had delivered their new baby boy six days earlier. I was so pregnant, I only brought the pork. No buns, no pickles, no coleslaw, no chips, no drinks, nothing...what a riot.

During this embarrassing "dinner," that was kindly supplemented with various fixin's by my understanding neighbor, Erin, her mother-in-law approached me about calling her if I went into labor to help with Owen.

Our original plan involved a different neighbor, because as close as I am to Erin, I wanted to leave her out of it because she had a newborn. But Pam kept insisting that she could help out if I went into labor while she was still in town. I took her number to appease her and forgot about it.

Until now...

That was only a few hours ago...I was thinking, "shit, I should really call her!"

I called. I simply said, "I'm in labor." She simply said, "we have a key, I'll be right over."

Andrew began throwing things in my hospital bag. I am a master packer. I had a bag packed with a list next to it with all of the things that needed to be thrown in and, exactly where in the house each item is located. I know, I know....but did you read my blog about how I love to be organized and tidy??

I took my phone and dialed my mother-in-law while I felt another big dog coming on. Same conversation with my mother-in-law. "It's time."

Pam would stay at our house with Owen until my mother-in-law could get here. We couldn't wait for her...there really wasn't enough time.

It was a little after 5am when I heard Andrew talking to Pam downstairs. "I think Cheri's contractions are about 5 minutes apart." Then Pam, "well, I've been here for a 10 or 15 minutes and I think they are quite a bit closer...like 3 minutes apart."

One on top of the other, I slowly made it to the garage. Andrew scrambling about...and then Pam. Calm. Cool. Collected.

Don't get me wrong. My husband is a doll. But, he's a boy. And a boy at a birth just isn't quite right. Pam may have been saying the exact same things that Andrew was saying, but she was so right and kind and he was so wrong and annoying.

Why? I have no idea. I just needed Andrew to be a woman for me now.

We got in the car, tried Alice again, no answer. I called my mom and let her know that I was in labor and we were off.

The 30 miles to our hospital was quick at 5 something am. Thank God it wasn't rush hour.

The contractions never let up on the way there. I quietly noted this as a good sign. But it was hard to labor in the car. I tried listening to Aaron Aldridge, my favorite HypnoBirthing script, but the contractions were way too strong and too close together to relax. I remember telling Andrew that I could feel the baby moving down. Was that even possible?

I also remember Andrew saying something goofy like, “this is the real deal,” and then, “are you picturing a flower opening up?”

I later told him that if I could have, I would have responded, “No, but I’m picturing my fist in your face.” I guess it’s a real blessing that you can’t talk when you’re in that much pain.

Between contractions, I told Andrew that if we got there and I was only 2 cm that I would "give up." This was way too intense to handle for 3 days...I was convinced I would be having the same long, labor that I had with Owen and I doubted my ability to deal.

We got to the hospital and Andrew parked right in front...I grabbed my pillow and stumbled in.

I remember seeing him whiz toward me with a wheelchair but it seemed impossible to sit and ride after the car ride. I refused.

The trip to Labor and Delivery was going to take forever with me on foot. We took the elevator up and Andrew later said that when we came out of the elevator, I threw him down on the floor “like a cop grabs a perp.” I couldn’t help it, I absolutely needed something to lean on.

A woman in scrubs came running toward us in the hallway. “You wouldn’t happen to be Janet’s patient, would you?” Yes. “Well, come on, you’re scaring everybody out here!” She whisked me away in the wheelchair toward Labor and Delivery Admissions.

I was in a bad way. I couldn’t believe how often my surges were and how strong and miserable they were. The good news was that I would now be around some women. Sweet relief!

The angel who rescued me also wanted to check me. I was nervous to be checked as I hadn’t been checked the whole pregnancy and what if I was only a couple of centimeters??? Had I blossomed into a full on wimp since Owen’s birth?

My rescue angel accommodated my position. I forgot I had panties on. She laughed and helped me out of them. “I think I have some good news for you, but I need you to move a little.” I repositioned and she checked me. It was quite painful. But I didn’t care. I was 9 centimeters!

I felt so lucky! Was I really going to be one of those girls that delivered in just a few hours rather than days? Had Owen really paved the way for this baby like Kay and Alice and everyone else had promised???

Andrew left me alone for a few minutes for some reason. Maybe to call Alice or Kay? I wasn’t sure, and barely cared. There was another pregnant woman in the room with me. With just a curtain between us, I overheard that she was there for a Cesarean Section. I didn’t know her circumstances, but I heard her and presumably, her loved ones responding to my low moans and outcries. Probably, thankful for a painless birth ahead.

Andrew showed me a text from Alice, she was speeding up 400 and would be here soon. I overheard him tell Kay that I was 9 cm. She said that she was on the way.

Next thing I know, I’m on the way to my room to deliver. I remember on the way to my room, inquiring about having a tub available. Beyond that, who knew where or what my birth plan was?

Kay and Alice magically appeared in my room. Alice hugged me. She was absolutely sick about her phone being at a silly setting and missing my calls.

At one of my prenatal visits, Alice had mentioned trying to use visualizations that were simple rather than the complex visualizations that HypnoBirthing suggests. She recalled how when she was in labor, she went through the colors of the rainbow and named a fruit or vegetable for each color. Red is for tomato. Orange is for a tangerine...Now, I looked her in the face and said, “I tried your visualization...but I was stumped when I came to indigo. What is indigo exactly???” Alice laughed.

Visualizations proved very helpful the first time around. So, I had a couple ready to go for this birth.

First, I tried writing my name backwards in cursive in my mind. I liked the thoughtlessness and repetition involved. Then there was the opening flower...Also, Alice reminded me during my pushing, to remember the Ina May Gaskin book and its reference to a woman trying to get her cervix to open by thinking the whole time that she was “huge.” I liked this one, too. “I’m HUGE,” I kept thinking to myself over and over.

But the visualization that really worked for me, especially when I felt especially lonely or scared, was picturing having my arms around the neck of Christ and looking into his peaceful, calming face. It helped me to remember that I wasn’t alone, no matter what I thought...not ever.

While the baby was monitored, I leaned on the bed during contractions, and sat on a birthing ball to rest in between. I remember the woman that was holding the baby monitor up to me saying to someone else, “she’s in transition,” while Alice redirected my moans into my lower register. Really??? Me??? In transition!? I just couldn’t believe that Sparkles was so close!

I also remember someone coming in to draw blood out of my hand and thinking that the pinch was quite annoying. Everything was a blur. Janet was there now. Something about not enough time to fill up the big tub and could I birth in the tub in the bathroom??

On the way into the bathroom, I signed a consent to have a natural, vaginal delivery. Even in all of the drama, I remember thinking how strange that was...

I get why they call water birthing an “aqua-dural.” As soon as my body submerged in water, I sighed relief. So, so much less pain. So, so much more comfortable.

Alice poured water over my enormous belly and breasts and I was actually able to relax between contractions in the water. It was wonderful. I really can’t recommend a water birth enough.

So, there we all were. Two midwives, a doula, a husband, two nurses and a tech all crammed in and quietly contributing to the calm, relaxing, dimmed birthing (bath)room. Andrew began playing Krishna Das on my ipod. Alice said later that it was more like a home birth than any hospital birth she had attended.

I had made a special playlist on my other ipod that was in the car and I wanted to hear it. Janet warned that if Andrew left to retrieve it, he may miss the birth.

WHAT?! I was so happy! Really? She’s that close???!!!

Yes.

Alice told me that I should just go ahead and push when I felt, “pushy” and Janet agreed. I would know when to push. I doubted their confidence in me, but sure enough, after a little bit, I began to bare down with each contraction.

There were two, perhaps three contractions that, though painful, felt very productive, almost good to work at...otherwise, I was doubled over and in excruciating pain.

Everyone-Kay, Janet, Alice and the nurses, kept telling me that she was coming, that she was close...but they never checked me, they never looked...I didn’t believe them. I remembered how they kept telling me that Owen was close and it took him 3 HOURS to come. I kept saying, “how do you know??” They all said the same thing...they could tell by the way I was laboring. Amazing.

After a bit, Janet said that she did want to check something quickly. She reported that the lip of my cervix was holding little Sparkles’ (enormous) head back from coming all the way down. Her adjustment was extremely uncomfortable, but the next thing I know, my back is about to break and she is coming down, down, down...

Occasionally, Janet would put a waterproof fetal monitor on my belly under water to hear the heart rate for a few seconds. I noticed that Sparkles’ little heart actually was lower and lower in my abdomen. I was doing it!

Then, she starting crowning. Thank God for the ring of fire because after it feels like you’re smoldering, which was greatly diminished this time due to my “aqua-dural,” you don’t feel a thing.

I have to say that up until this point. I was yelling and panting and exclaiming that I couldn’t do it and as much as Alice said that I was a “rock star,” I had a lot of complaints and doubt. I just couldn’t imagine actually going thru with it. Actually, birthing again...it just seemed impossible and I wanted out of the deal.

I remember yelling, “my back is breaking!” I also remember, the calming sweet responses from my birthing team. “That’s right,” “go toward the pain,” “push through it, don’t go around it,” “you’re doing everything right,” “she’s coming,” and, my favorite, “soon you’ll be holding your little girl.”

Any doubts that I ever had about Janet, and not Kay delivering my baby are so incredibly far away. She was exactly what I needed and such a blessing during my birth.

At one point, Andrew got really excited. This is really something because if my man was any more laid back, he would be in a coma. He began yelling at me, “that’s it, Cheri! You’re doing it! Yes!” Alice said later that she and Janet exchanged looks and told him to keep it down and stay calm. This is hilarious to me, because Andrew surely has never heard those words spoken to him before!

The cool thing was, I loved Andrew’s enthusiasm. It really made me push harder and feel productive. It was really what I needed from him. I felt closer to him than ever.

But after little (yeah, right) Sparkles got her (gigantic, perfectly round, and unmolded) head out, she lingered in the water and all of the sudden, my birthing team sprang to life.

Later, I learned that her head was out for over 2 minutes...no shoulders.

All of the sudden, everyone was on me. A nurse jumped in the water with me, the other to my side. My midwife was barking instructions... “Grab her leg!” “I’m still having trouble seeing...” “Cheri, I need you to push with everything you got.”

Strangely, very, very strangely, as everyone got crazy focused, and serious, this was the calmest part of the birth for me. Even though I heard someone say, "call the team," I just knew, for some reason, that everything was alright.

As soon as I was made aware the shoulders were stuck, I moved quickly to all fours. Later, I remembered having read that this was the best position to help the shoulders out, but how did I know during all the drama? Not sure...

I knew I had to really push with everything for Sparkles to get out, but I couldn’t...not just yet. I calmly waited for the next contraction to engulf me and as the nurse pushed on Sparkles to move her down on the outside of my belly, Janet pulled her shoulders out and bam! Out she came...

I looked behind me and someone was holding little (huge) Sparkles upright. She was blue, and floppy. I kissed her twice on her face and heard my midwife say, so kindly but so quickly, “is it ok if we cut the cord? We want to make sure she’s breathing ok...” Yes.

And before they could whisk her away. She coughed on me. Twice.

I knew. I knew she was fine.

Apparently, someone had lost their phone in my tub...

Andrew had run out after the baby...

It was over...I looked up at my midwife and said, “my baby. She’s supposed to be with me.”

Janet said, “everybody be quiet.” Silence. Then we heard quiet whimpering. Then crying. She was fine.

It all happened so fast.

I looked up at the remaining staff and said, “does anyone know the date today? It’s my baby’s birth day.”

“March 23rd.” It was 8:25am.

I looked down and realized that I still had to birth the placenta. Janet was pulling on it and trying to get it to come...I gathered that she thought I was in a rush to get to my Sparkles. I told her that we could just wait a bit and allow it to come. Slowly but surely and much more easily, it came.

By now, it looked like someone had been murdered in the tub. I stood up, shaky. Janet asked if I would like to shower. Yes. She brought me some soap, I cleaned up and rinsed off. I stepped out of the tub and over to Sparkles.

They laid her on me and as I inspected her up and down, she nursed.

Andrew made some phone calls and then we called my Grandma to tell her not only about the birth, but something even better...that Sparkles’ name was to be the same as hers...Violet. She had a namesake now. “Thank you so much for that,” she said sweetly.

My mom is here now helping me learn how to be a mother of two. She drove down from Michigan, leaving when she learned I was in labor. When she arrived and heard my birth story, she told me that often, people ask her, “Why? Why does Cheri have natural childbirth?”

I thought it over and replied, “I guess I just trust God more than I trust doctors.”

As Sparkles’ birth story predictably begins to fade, I am so thankful for the intimate, personal, loving, natural, water birth that I was able to have with my wonderful birthing team.

I look at my two little angels sent from Heaven and I can see the little piece of God in both of them. I feel honored to have the opportunity to raise them and excited about what lies ahead.

Thank you. Thank you God. Thank you HypnoBirthing. Thank you Krishna Das. Thank you, Pierce Yoga. Thank you, Kay. Thank you, Janet. Thank you, Alice. Thank you, nurses and techs, and anyone else who had anything to do with my birth.

Thank you for Sparkles. My beautiful Violet. The end of my perfect rainbow...

Violet Annie Flake

9 lbs. 2 oz.

21.5" long

La,

Cheri