Tea, Tacos, and a Turtle

I am sitting in front of an oscillating fan, sipping chai spiced rooibos tea which is meant to make it feel more fall than the 90 degree afternoon we’re enduring enjoying.  It’s October and I’m too stubborn to turn on the air; besides it doesn’t really work anyway.  Rooibos tea, which is grown in South Africa, transports me right back to Lesotho days.  I didn’t love it when I first tried it, but over time it grew on me; when I discovered the chai spiced version, I was sold.  Since it is naturally decaffeinated, it’s a great option for a late afternoon slow-sip.  Dinner is prepped and ready to go in the oven.  I usually do some variation of Taco-Tuesday, but this week it got postponed to Wednesday.  Keto-taco-casserole (known around here as ke-taco) it is, and it’s so good!  I loosely use this recipe.

Yesterday I spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen, preparing all sorts of goodies.  I have many eager helpers, which doesn’t make things go very quickly.  Just when I was about ready to finish up and have a seat, Ellee reminded me I had promised we would make something from this alphabet cookbook this week.  So she, Sadie and I whipped up this Turtle Bread to accompany dinner. It was quick and easy and great for little helping hands.  I even managed to get out of kneading!

The finished product was well received by little turtles and Daddy turtle alike.

I also decided to use some super ripe bananas to make up a sort of low-carb banana bread.  Oxymoron, I know, but where the kids are concerned it's only an effort for healthier eating.  So I did my usual 3 mashed bananas, 2 eggs, stick of soft butter, drizzle of vanilla.  Then I added about 1/2 cup of coconut flour and a shake of baking powder and a shake of baking soda.  The technical details to recipes are negotiable in my book. It had to bake a good long while to set up - probably an hour or more - but once it did, it was very tasty.  The addition of a couple dark chocolate chips was not objected by any of the members of my household.

Hope you are having a great week!

~Abby

A New Roof

Somewhere in the midst of four children, a couple big moves, homeschooling, and the array of other duties which follow me wherever I go, my almost-forgotten blog was pushed aside.  I have kept up (and not kept up) with this blog for nine and a half years.  I often don’t even remember it exists, but when I do, I enjoy looking back through the virtual scrapbook of my unusual life. 

I am seated on the floor of our roof top patio, listening to happy birds chirp.  The breeze is refreshingly cool after months of exhausting heat.  It may not feel as fall as I would like it, but the respite from unbearable heat is welcome.  And the cool dips at night make my morning coffee with a sprinkle of ground pumpkin spice all that much more enjoyable.  A coconut-lime keto cheesecake is cooling on the counter.  Homemade keto chocolate ice cream is also freezing in the freezer.  A roast is in the crock pot and I am excited to see how the sweet potatoes I finally found here turn out this evening when I bake them.  We didn’t have lunch until nearly 3, which is so Spanish of us.  You see, we really are adjusting.  Dinner will be on the table by 8.  School has been accomplished, Kyle in 3rd and Ellee in 1st, and Rosie has napped on and off all day.  Teething has disrupted our days and nights for over a week now.  Jonathan has been in and out - out at the store helping with refugee grocery shopping, in working on class preparations for English class tomorrow, back out here shortly to help with an immigrant food distribution and then on to his African migrant soccer team’s practice this evening.  If it sounds like he should be tired, that’s because he is.

Moving to Spain has been quite a smooth transition, as far as transitions go.  Buying a car, securing a rental home, filling it with furniture and getting it set up during our first week here wasn’t exactly the least stressful thing I’ve ever done.  We checked out of a guesthouse on Saturday morning, July 13th, and went and dropped a few thousand dollars at IKEA that afternoon buying beds, couches, a table, a pot and pan, silverware, pillows and sheets and everything else you might imagine needs putting into a house if a family plans to live there starting that evening.  Now the house, which at first didn’t attract my love and affection but was all that was available, feels like home.  I enjoy the quiet setting, the very low traffic along our street, and access to the pool and neighborhood garden for outdoor time. Since Jonathan is away a lot with the car, I am pretty well situated here at the house with the kids all-the-time, so it at least feels like we’ve gotten out when we go up to the swings for a picnic.  We’ve managed to work out a few kinks with the place, except the A/C that couldn’t handle the heat.  Fortunately, it seem the worst is behind us now, so I’ll wait for Spring to bug the maintenance guy again about that. My favorite thing about the place is probably the stunning view.  And the dishwasher.

Spanish has come flooding back, although thankfully we never lost it completely.  We’ve been using it for years as a secret language when we want to hide something from the kids or to speak privately in Lesotho or South Africa.  Unfortunately, now we are encouraging our children to learn our secret language.  Kyle works daily on DuoLingo and Ellee listens intently.  Sadie is picking up bits and pieces along the way.  I have made it my personal goal to be absolutely fluent someday, but that day is far in the future, I am sure.  Nevertheless, being able to get around and make my point or ask my question in the language is not a luxury I enjoyed in Lesotho.  And English is not widely spoken here, so it is pretty well a necessity.

The baby is now awake after another barely-nap, so I am off to see how my ice cream is coming along (read: have a bowl regardless of if it is frozen yet or not).  Then maybe I’ll try to pointlessly sweep the house or fail miserably at attempting to read my awesome book about a missionary family in Peru during the 1960’s.  Although more than likely, that will have to wait until the kids are all tucked into bed and I am left with silence until Rose wakes back up.  This is a life I love and appreciate, even in the frustrating and mundane.  I wouldn’t trade it for all the cleanliness, structure, or silence in the world…. But at times that does sound appealing. 

~Abby

Rose Michele ~ A Birth Story

There is something about a birth that changes a woman.  Each one is so unique, so exciting, so trying, while also so empowering.  At least, all four of mine have been.  I had long, slow, painful labor with Kyle.  I had even longer, slower, less painful at first, but equally as awful in the end, labor with Ellee.  Then Sadie happened; wild, brutal and less than 3 hours start to finish. When I discovered I was expecting Rosie, one of my first thoughts was, “I have to do that again?!”—initially in regards to the first trimester and then in regards to labor and delivery.  And yet, as you approach the end of pregnancy, all you want is to get it over with.  To do it today.  To have actually already done it yesterday.  It’s an all consuming thing those last few weeks of uncomfortable pregnancy.  But it never happens as you imagined.

Pregnancy is not kind to me.  Fear of nausea was easily the main reason I wasn’t sure I’d ever be up to living through it again after Sadie.  Every time I had even a slight twinge of discomfort in my stomach after going through it so awfully with Sadie, I would think to myself, “I’m not ready for that again.”  But God had other plans.  Thankfully, after two miserable bouts with morning sickness well into the second trimester with both of the other girls, I think I had come up with a few coping tactics by the time the dreaded nausea hit.  I determined with as much determination as I could muster to not start throwing up this time.  It wasn’t easy, and (TMI) I swallowed a lot of heaves, but we made it.  Rosie and I.  We made it through the entire pregnancy without a single visit to the toilet…. Or sink… or side yard.  Thankfully, the constant feeling of wanting to puke lessened at about 14 weeks, significantly earlier than with both the other girls.

At 20 weeks, it was discovered that I had a marginal cord insertion, where the umbilical cord had grown out of the side of the placenta, not the middle.  The initial cautions were that she may not get enough nutrition through the cord and could end up being a small baby.  However, after a few scans during the middle of the pregnancy, she was determined to be quite sturdy for her gestational age and no more concern was voiced about the cord issue. But because of the frequent scans, we could tell she was breech the entire time. I hoped and prayed she would flip, and week after week, she still appeared to be right side up.  At 35 weeks, we scanned again to be sure.  Breech and stubborn.  I tried to encourage her from the outside as much as I could.  I would push on my belly when she would get to moving, trying to help her in the right direction - down.  I tried the same position of hands and knees stance that I had tried to get Sadie into position (she did flip).  But Rose wasn’t budging.  She stayed in the same position the whole last month or more.  Head up in my left ribs.  Rear down near my right hip.  She still loves to keep her legs bent up like she was on the inside.

I had annoying and regular early labor/false contractions for the two weeks leading up to her birth.  I had never had any early labor like that with any of my other pregnancies.  It threw me for a loop.  I didn’t know what to expect, either, because I was afraid she would fall out like Sadie had done.  I was not prepared to birth a breech baby on the side of the road, despite Jonathan’s unwavering confidence that he could help me through it.  Sometimes I wonder if that male confidence that they can handle anything is a bit unfounded.  Anyway, as the days went by, I realized more and more that I was likely going to push her breech.  It was that or have a C-section.  I truly have no desire to be cut open, and was willing to do anything to avoid it.  After three vaginal births, I hoped to go for a fourth.  Thankfully my OB was also open to the idea — actually, she was more confident in it as an option than I was.  I couldn’t help but fear for complications.  And I couldn’t visualize it at all.  It went against everything I knew about labor and delivery…. Head first, then the rest.  The thought of doing it backwards was so unnerving.  So, I decided to watch a few YouTube videos of breech births.  The sight of it alarmed me at first, but seeing it done and that it worked much like head first births relieved my fears a lot.  The next day, I had my mom also watch the videos with me, as she was expected to be at the birth.  I like to be prepared.

On Wednesday, January 9th, at 38 weeks, I was having frequent and mildly painful contractions.  I didn’t know what to do, and feared they would progress quickly like my last labor, so we went over to L&D.  After a lot of hours of monitoring, it was determined that I wasn’t in active labor and I was sent home.  I was 0 cm dilated.  Lame.  I was so deflated and frustrated that after three previous labors, I still didn’t feel like I could listen to my body because this was all so different.  I pouted the whole next day, irritated and grumpy.  On Friday, the 11th, it was gorgeous (if cold) and I went for a long walk with my BFF, pushing Sadie Kate in the stroller.  I knew from previous experience that walking doesn’t actually make babies come…. Or at least not always.  But I didn’t want to sit around all day just waiting to go into labor.  I had decided no matter what, until the contractions got too hard to handle, I wasn’t going back up to L&D.  Breech birth on Whiskey Road, whatever.  It better start hurting.  I bounced on a yoga ball some.  

That night, I continued to have the same pesky barely contractions.  Then I had three not-so-barely contractions.  I got back out of bed to tell Jonathan it might be go time.  It was sometime just before midnight.  Another contraction or two and I thought I was leaking fluid.  Yeah… TMI again… after three births it can be hard to tell for certain what’s going on when 38 weeks pregnant.  I had been told by a reliable source that if my water broke, I would know it without a doubt.  But just in case, I called my mom and started trying to call my sister in law, Hannah, who was also coming for the birth.  It took her an entire hour to answer the phone, but she did eventually get there.  We alerted our neighbor who was going to come stay with the kids while we got ready to head out.  Contractions kept coming, stronger and harder, and I was mentally preparing myself for a rapid and wild birth again like I had with Sadie.  Just before we were going to leave the house, my water broke…. And kept breaking…. The entire way to the hospital.  I was nervous and excited.  The drive went smoothly, because the contractions all but stopped after my water broke. We listened to praise hymns and I whispered prayers of thanks to God. My prayer had been that I would know without a doubt when it was time, and now I knew.  There was no going home.  One way or the other, this stubborn breech baby was coming today!  It was about 1 am.

We arrived at the hospital and got checked in…. Again.  They still asked me all the same questions.  My doctor had said to be sure they called her as soon as I got there and not to wait until I dilated.  When they checked me, I was about 3cm.  But the contractions were still almost non existent.  As is apparently common with breech babies, when there is nothing pushing on the cervix, especially once my waters weren’t intact, there is no activity.  When my doctor got there and checked, I was 4cm.  We hung out for a couple hours and shot the breeze with the nurses and my doctor.  Bless her heart, it was the middle of the night on the weekend.  I had hoped I could get through another labor and delivery drug free, but it was decided that I would get an epidural to try to start Pitocin.  It felt ridiculous to get an epidural when I wasn’t even in pain.  Kyle had not handled Pitocin well during my labor with him, so I didn’t think it would work this time.  Rosie was still diagonal and showed no signs of changing.  I was prepped for surgery and frustrated.  The nurses didn’t think there was a way on the planet I would push her out, it was obvious.  But the epidural took okay and the Pitocin started.  Once it was going strong, I could still feel a lot through the epidural, but it would have been absolutely unbearable without it.  She started shifting more central, and I was dilating well.  It didn’t take long for me to get to 10cm…. I think about an hour and a half after the Pitocin was started.  She was descending and we were sitting on go.  It was about 7am.

I was painfully disappointed that I had to deliver in the OR because she was still breech.  I wanted so badly for my sister in law to also witness the birth.  Thankfully my doctor made an exception and handed my mom a set of scrubs.  My mom was there for Kyle’s birth and I missed having her for Ellee's and Sadie’s.  Not knowing if I’d ever have another one, or at the very least if it would ever happen again in the US, I really wanted her there to see this one.

The OR was bright and there were so many people in there.  Felt like they brought the janitor and the cooks in, too, just for kicks.  So many people and me…. Ready to squeeze a baby out backwards.  I was scared and frustrated it wasn’t going like I had hoped.  But I knew I didn’t have much of a choice.  I didn’t want the decision for surgery to be made, so I gave it all I had.  My mom was beside me, and Jonathan behind my head.  My doc was coaching me, and everyone else.  Turns out not a single nurse I interacted with had ever seen a vaginal breech delivery.  It was a first for all of us, besides my doctor.  I pushed with all my might and Mom was saying, “It looks just like the videos.”  That was a comfort to me.  After about 4 minutes, she was born at 7:46AM.  Utter and complete relief, unlike any other feeling in the world.  She was set on my chest and I could touch her.  She held my finger.  I sobbed, as is my consistent reaction to birth.  She was white and sticky, like Ellee had been, but I didn’t care.  I stroked her and wept.  She was 10 days early, weighing 7 lbs and 2 ounces and 20” long.  Beautiful in every way.  Just like my others, but different, too.  I was so relieved to have her here.  I had felt irritated with her the last few weeks, wishing she would flip and give me some peace of mind.  But that all faded when I held her.  She was too tiny and sweet to be grumpy with her.  I wouldn’t have wished it to be that way, but I’m thankful I could do it.  An overwhelming majority of babies flip head down for birth.  And the few who stay breech are almost all delivered via C-section.  To deliver a breech baby vaginally in the modern world is definitely a unique experience.  She obviously didn’t just want to be the fourth, she wanted to be my first to back into the world!

{Notifying the family at home that Rosie had made a safe entry into the world.  Still in the OR.}

 She’s a doll and a content baby.  She’s sleeping great.  And she’s like honey to my soul.  My heart is filled to overflowing.

{Family Photo Shoot, 1 week old}

{2 1/2 Months Old}

~Abby