Improving Maternal Health Outcomes

For a bit there, life was moving slowly — the pregnancy, the recovery, getting established with the French farmhouse, business, communication, initiating the prairie cottage build, etc. Now everything is off the ground and running in one stage or another, and life is a tangle of constant designing, breastfeeding, collaborating, editing, laundry, untangling charging cables, planning, setting alerts, and troubleshooting. 

No matter the pace, I’m so thankful to do everything with my children by my side — or, to be more precise, on my lap (West) and at my breast (Léa Lou). 

What a privilege it is to have reached this point. What a privilege it has always been, whereas so many women are denied meaningful support and quality care from the onset of their pregnancies. The impacts of such treatment and lack of care are immeasurable. 

There’s currently a maternal health crisis in America, and it disproportionately impacts Black and Indigenous women.

I believe the country needs work towards improving maternal health outcomes, implement education on bias, racism, and discrimination for maternity care providers, and invest in equitable care and community-based initiatives to reduce levels of and exposure to climate change-related risks for moms and babies. 

If you are looking to learn more and/or become an advocate for birthing justice, you can do so easily. Visit Every Mother Counts, or click here for further details on the Black Maternal Health Momnibus Act of 2021.

In this post, I’m wearing work by Native Fashion Artist Jamie Okuma. 

Fourth Trimester + Newborn Baby Essentials

As I blissfully but groggily navigate the fourth trimester, I’ve compiled the following list of items that have been the most useful to me over the past 8 weeks. However, much more important than any of these material goods is clear communication inside my partnership with Adam. The sharing or division of responsibilities, as well as making space for feelings and new realities are the most effective tools in our possession. And, at the end of the day, as long as our baby has food, shelter, health and love, she’s getting what she needs.

Note: I’ve linked many of the items below so readers can learn more about any given product, but if something sparks your interest, perhaps consider exploring a Buy Nothing Group, second-hand resource, or local small business rather than buying new via a big box retailer.

Click here for this customizable, handmade ring

Adaptable nursing pillow
I thought of nursing pillows as unnecessary items… until our little one ended up in the NICU. During the long hours there, I found it difficult to hold her tiny, cord-covered body without some sort of stable neck and wire support for her, and the pancake pillows at the hospital weren’t helping. This adjustable nursing pillow has a back pocket for a heating pad, built-in pockets for books, phones, cloths (etc), and three inserts for varying degrees of height and support.

Collapsable Cup
Any time I start breastfeeding the baby, I immediately become wildly thirsty. As I did while pregnant, I bring this cup absolutely everywhere with me. It’s collapsible (and then pocket-sized), and it helps me stay on track with my water intake.

Block dish soap
This is our favorite package-free dish soap, which we use in addition to boiling pump + bottle parts.

Reusable sponges + brush
Behold— a reusable sponge that actually works and lasts! We use it in tandem with this set of bottle brushes. 

0-3 mo pacifier 
We likely would’ve tried to skip the pacifier with the baby, but the NICU team provided her with some, so we occasionally do the same. We used this rubber version (plastic-free) with our first child (who stopped using them when he caught a cold around 1 year old), and so far they’ve worked well with the newborn, too.

Folding bottle drying rack
With all the pumping I do, a folding bamboo drying rack (atop a foldable, washable drying mat) is one of our most used items. 

Stainless steel bottles
These bottles are lightweight for little hands, while being plastic-free and durable. 

Breast milk collector
This brilliant little silicone, plastic-free suction pump is the most minimal, no fuss way of saving breast milk that I’ve tried. I use it when nursing by placing it on whichever breast the baby isn’t occupying. 

Plastic-free milk storage bags
I don’t like freezing milk in glass (because I’m clumsy), so these silicone bags, which stand upright for easy filling + cleaning, are my favorite plastic-free method of freezing or warming breastmilk. 

Baskets-turned-mobile-nightlights 
For a portable nightlight, I popped rechargeable battery-operated twinkle lights into these sweet baskets.

Baby dock 
I believe we have gotten more use out of our versatile baby dock than any other baby item.

Baby carrier
I was pleased with the washable, multi-directional carrier that we used with our first. I couldn’t wait to use it again with our second once she put on a bit of weight. 

Portable, hands-free pump 
I used this portable pump during my first pregnancy, and made it hands-free by adding a pump bra. There are also truly hands-free pumps, which are now available with reusable inserts (rather than disposable plastic milk collection bags). 

Baby eat, sleep, poop journal
We found this journal helpful when keeping track of the baby’s functions per our doctor’s request. 

Reusable wipes
While we do have a small stash of Water Wipes, we mainly use washable cloths from Etsy and Grovia. (I bought ours, but I plan to get a sewing machine and make my own soon!)

Cloth diapers
We used All in One cloth diapers for our first child, and have happily returned to using them with our second.

Spray nozzle toilet attachment 
In order to rinse the cloth diapers before tossing them into an open-weave bucket where they await a proper machine wash, we use this easy-to-install handheld nozzle, which can also function as a bidet.

Peri bottle
On the subject of bidets, this upside-down peri bottle is pretty much a portable bidet. It’s especially helpful for post-delivery recovery when paired with a few drops of Witch Hazel.

Organic large swaddle 
These Willaby undyed, organic cotton swaddles (gifted to our family by @dr.organicmommy) are slightly oversized  and thus usable as a baby blanket, nursing chair cover, swaddle, burp cloth, and stroller or baby carrier sunshade.

Folding baby gym
Perfect for small humans and small spaces, this minimalist folding baby gym was a favorite of our son’s, and is now being put to use by our daughter (and — occasionally — by a pushy beagle as well).

Stretchy toys / Teethers
These handmade, stretchy fabric and natural BeachWood Teethers can be used on their own or with an activity center, like the one we have.

Folding upright bouncer
We didn’t use one of these with West, but little Léa has reflux and spits up large amounts of milk regularly. This bouncer has been extremely helpful for keeping her safely upright during the moments when we’re unable to hold her. It has a minimal design and folds easily, making it practical for small spaces.

Unbreakable books 
“Indestructibles” are chew proof, rip proof, 100% washable, and non-toxic.  While we like board books, they take up a great deal of space.  By contrast, this series of slim books for early readers is practical for families with young kids in compact quarters. 

Lactation bites
When nursing overnight, I usually eat one of these yummy little lactation bites to help keep my milk supply up.

Skincare (body)
This pregnancy + nursing safe, fragrance-free, all-body moisturizing stone is handmade by a small business, and is entirely plastic-free. It’s the only body moisturizer I’ve used for years, and it’s even mild enough to use on babies. The stone travels easily and requires very little space on the shelf or in a bag.

Skincare (face)
Other than soap and sunblock, these are the only two products I use daily on my face— a serum and a treatment essence. I feel comfortable using them while pregnant and breastfeeding, and they replace an entire suite of other skincare products. They arrive in minimal, plastic-free packaging, and are housed in compact glass bottles. 

Apron
I’m constantly being spit up upon, and I’m always in need of spacious pockets.  As such, rather than tailoring my entire wardrobe to accommodate such realities, I’ve started covering my outfit with this handmade linen apron, which has roomy pockets and easy access for nursing.

Our Newest Family Member

Post Summary: My shortened, high-risk third trimester, my attempts to engage in hypnobirthing practices during an induced hospital birth, how our family navigated the NICU experience, and how overjoyed we are with our baby’s safe arrival.

I’m pretty sure that this is what magic looks like, folks. Introducing the new member of our cottage crew, little Léa (pronounced “lay-uh”) Lou:

Today is Léa Lou’s original estimated date of arrival, but she was born three weeks ago through induced labor.

PREGNANCY & COMLPICATIONS
When I was 29 weeks pregnant, we had a medical scare that set the pace for the remainder of my time carrying. What had initially been labeled a “normal” elderly multigravida pregnancy for the first two trimesters was then revealed to be truly high-risk, as it turned out that our baby was classified low birthweight, and measuring below the 1st percentile across several parts of her body. While identifying her fetal growth restriction (known as IUGR), the doctors also discovered that I had a 2-vessel umbilical cord, which was the only contributing factor we could pinpoint regarding WHY my baby was so extremely small. (It was especially perplexing, as I’m nearly 6’ tall, and my husband is several inches taller than I am.)

From then on, I went to the doctor twice-weekly for fetal heart rate monitoring, blood pressure checks (always normal), and routine evaluations of the baby’s measurements, weight, and practice breathing capabilities. Every visit carried with it the possibility of emergency induction, but, thankfully, it never came to that. 

LABOR & DELIVERY 
Over time, our family and the medical team dared to hope that the baby was simply on her own timeline, and growing small with no other health complications. Still, I’d been advised to remain on alert for a potentially urgent delivery— possibly via c-section, if it appeared that the baby’s tiny body couldn’t handle the stress of the journey through the birth canal. 

When I reached week 36, I was scheduled for an induction for week 37. 

I practiced hypnobirthing with West, and had been planning the use of similar labor techniques for this upcoming birth experience. Inducing labor was not part of my vision, but it become apparent that the benefits of delivering our baby early outweighed the benefits of maintaining the pregnancy until full term, as her growth remained alarmingly slow. 

I was induced with Pitocin and the use of a foley bulb, which is a catheter that’s inserted into the cervix. Both were unpleasant, but the other elements of the birthing process were as wonderful as I imagine a hospital birth could be.

As I’d hoped, I was able to labor without the assistance of pain management medication, just like I did with West. However, this decision wasn’t without risk. By foregoing an epidural well into the delivery process, I was making a gamble. If the baby needed an urgent C-section that far into labor, I would have to be fully put under for the surgery, and Adam wouldn’t be allowed in the operating room. Our child would be born without a parent witnessing and having a voice at the birth. 

But I felt confident that our baby knew what she was doing, and that— again— she was simply on her own timeline. 

During active labor, I focused heavily on my breath, and on breathing the baby down. I listened to breath-work audio tracks and a small selection of music via my AirPods. I managed surges by picturing myself in the ocean, pressed fluidly against firm but safe currents and waves. And, randomly and unexpectedly, I also found myself mentally choreographing movements that corresponded with the songs playing, which also helped guide me through the contractions in a meditative-like state. 

When I progressed to the stage that’s almost entirely debilitating, Adam and the incredible medical staff were there to encourage and support me. They did so with respect, allowing me to maintain a sense of dignity as a birthing mother in a highly medicalized environment. I remember expressing my gratitude to them in moments between rapid contractions, as I felt exhausted but overall relieved and empowered thanks to their expertise and approach. 

Although Adam and I had a few favorite names standing by, we agreed to wait until we met our baby before assigning one. But, in the otherworldly moments of the final push that ushered our hummingbird into this world, I surprised us all by instinctively crying out Léa without conscious thought as she transitioned out of my body. 

It was with the greatest relief that we were able to witness her beautiful little body entering this world— tiny, but healthy.

A Week in the NICU
After some precious minutes nursing, as well as skin-to-skin time with Adam, Léa was tenderly relocated to the NICU. Even though she wasn’t technically a preemie at 37 weeks + 1 day, her low birthweight resulted in some similar conditions to that of premature babies. For example, our daughter was having issues regulating her body temperature, and she had newborn hypoglycemia (as we were warned she likely would). 

I spent the majority of my 2 recovery days/nights in the hospital by the side of her bassinet, feeding her every 3 hours between her blood tests, temperature checks, and other newborn exams. The IV and needles were tough to accept as a parent, but as I looked around at the other babies in the NICU, there was no way of losing sight over how fortunate our family was. We were alerted to the details of worst case scenarios, but she sidestepped them all. There were a few sleepless nights when our daughter toed the line of needing further medical intervention, but she always pulled across the required thresholds in the end. 

The skilled NICU nurses and staff worked 12 hour shifts, and there was almost always someone near Léa’s station. Adam spent the days with West and the early nights by Léa’s bedside. After being discharged myself, I drove back and forth to the hospital multiple times per day to nurse the baby and deliver pumped milk. 

After Léa regained the ounces lost after birth, along with an additional ounce to get her to a carseat-safe weight, we were permitted to take her home. Our tiny NICU graduate left the hospital with warm encouragement from the staff, and even soft cheers from passers-by. 

As I sit here typing this with my daughter on my chest and the laptop on my thighs, I still can’t believe she’s here-- our mighty Léa Lou, a 3lb, 15oz (now 5lb!) miracle who takes my breath away and completes our family.

Acknowledgement of Privilege
Meaningful and tangible support is not provided for all pregnant women when it’s needed most. Systemic and interpersonal racism in America have lead to disparities in maternity care that result in a higher risk of complications and death for Black women and women of color. We are not powerless to help rectify this issue. Our voices matter, independently and collectively, so let’s get + stay vocal about the fact that equitable care must be accessible for all. Our elected officials are meant to represent us, so let’s champion those who support anti-racist policies that are geared towards a safer existence for women and children of color from conception through all stages of life. Visit Every Mother Counts for more information and ways to take action. 

My Attempt at a Lower Waste Hospital Bag

Unlike our multitasking nursery, which I was sluggish to tackle since we’re in a temporary space, I packed my hospital bag more than a month ago. At 29 weeks, I was admitted to the hospital with complications regarding my high-risk pregnancy, and was gently told at the time to be prepared for labor and delivery every week since. I prepped my suitcase shortly thereafter, and it has since been standing dutifully by. I’ll soon reach 37 weeks — a marker I didn’t think I’d reach, but am profoundly grateful to be approaching.

SIMILARITIES + DIFFERENCES BETWEEN MY FIRST BAG VS THIS BAG
For this upcoming laboring experience, the contents of my hospital bag are largely similar to those from my first time around, and I’m reusing several necessities. I’ve made a few small adjustments to try and curb some of the single-use supplies that are regularly used in the hospital. But my attempts at a lower waste birthing experience are lopsided, as I’ve had to acquire some items I didn’t need the first time around— mainly in anticipation of a smaller baby and, potentially, a lengthier stay in the hospital. For some goods, I sourced second-hand, whereas I purchased new for others.

GIFTS FOR LABOR + DELIVERY STAFF
Another difference is that this time we’ve thought to include something else for the medical staff, as I’ve already logged long hours in the maternity department in recent weeks. Rather than guessing what goods might be useful to the large medical teams at our new hospital and scrambling to have bundles ready at any moment, Adam and I decided to have freshly baked pastries catered to the department come delivery day. (I asked a doctor well in advance if such a gesture would be permitted given COVID, and inquired outright if such a gift would be put to good use.) We figured this was a practical, low waste, affordable token of our appreciation.

Here are some of the items* in my hospital bag (a compact suitcase by Steamline), curated in anticipation of our specific situation:

Underwear
I packed a small pile of Knix period underwear, which I used prior to my pregnancy as well. They’re available in a variety of styles and absorbency levels. I also have a few nursing bras from Boob, and a hands-free breast pumping bra.

Large Collapsible Cup with Lid
I never leave the house without my oversized Stojo collapsible cup. The contact-free machine at the hospital allows us to refill it with water and ice chips whenever needed. (Those ice chips definitely helped me experience my first labor without an epidural.)

Portable Pump + Accessories + Bottles + Parts
In case the baby and I have a longer stay at the hospital, I’ve charged and packed the same tiny, portable breast pump and parts I used with West. (I updated the tubing and smaller accessories for hygiene purposes.) I also added a set of Colostrum Collectors, and my single, manual breast pump for use on one breast when feeding with the other.

Pura Stainless makes an interchangeable-part bottling system that we’ve used and appreciated for years. In case of a lengthier stay for the baby, we have a supply of stainless baby bottles and corresponding newborn/slow flow nipples packed in a small cooler bag that slides within/beneath our diaper bag.

Recycled Tech / Accessories 
Thanks to their sustainable materials and plastic-free packaging, I’ve been a loyal Nimble customer for years. They make tech accessories such as longer-length phone / iPad cords, portable batteries, adapters and more, and I have a small supply in my hospital bag, as well as my purse at all times. I’ve also added a lightweight, travel LED mirror to my tech sleeve. And, just in case, I’ve got my laptop and password book for work, along with an e-reader and the portable bluetooth speaker that we usually keep on our cargo bike.

Cloth Diapers
We have a collection of new + used cloth newborn diapers from Grovia. These all-in-one washable diapers were what West wore, and we’ve always been pleased with how well they work, and how comfortable they seem to be for little ones.

Premature + Newborn Clothes 
We have a few hand-me-down preemie garments (like the puppy onesie below) that we’ve packed for the hospital and for going home. Unlike last time, we also purchased some extra-small preemie pieces, as we expect they’ll be needed.

Toiletries
I cut off a slice of my tea tree + charcoal face wash bar, and packed it alongside the only two products I’ve relied on daily for years: Active Treatment Essence and Active Botanical Serum (both in glass vials) by Vintner’s Daughter. I also included items like refillable toothpaste tablets by Bite, plastic-free hair elastics, and bamboo brushes.

Baby Daily Log
This is the same journal we used to log West’s nursing + sleep + movements for his first few months. We had pages to spare, so the book is being put to repeated use.

Maternity / Nursing Clothes + Slipper-Socks + Masks
I’ve got my usual maternity and old nursing-friendly dresses ready to go, and opted to skip anything with a waistband entirely. I packed a few pairs of pilates-style, no-slip sock/slippers, as they’re practical for climbing in and out of hospital beds and traversing cold floors.

Vitamins, Snacks (for myself and family), etc.
We have a mini-cooler at the ready with my travel container of Ritual Prenatal Vitamins, my 8Greens tablets (which I began using once we started traveling across the country for our move and didn’t have easy/safe access to daily greens), routinely (re)packed fresh fruit, nuts, sugar-free hard candies, and Cerebelly granola bars for my 4+ year old in case he’s allowed to visit the hospital if COVID regulations regarding visitors change.

*Please note that some of the above links direct to major online retailers in order to provide readers with additional product details, while simultaneously supplying us with information on the number of clicks each link receives, and occasionally a (very) minor commission that helps support our small business. However, I encourage folks to search for any of these items via smaller, independent, low waste, and/or local shops when possible.

Before + After: A (Temporary) Multitasking Nursery + Bedroom + Playroom

Our second child arrives this month! As such, I figured it was time for us to finally finish the nursery / bedroom / playroom that we’re sharing while we await the construction of our prairie cottage, and the ability to travel to our little French farmhouse. Below are the before + after, along images, along with detailed views and process visuals. (I’ll let the photos do the heavy lifting in this post, as I’m currently wading through a thick cloud of third trimester insomnia and can’t seem to find my words the way I usually do.)

• Click here to read about the space, and what we could change vs what we couldn’t.

• Click here for the nook makeover, and details regarding how we hid the textured wall.

Below: The quick mockup / mood board I created to help me picture the space:

Beyond the nook, the primary pieces in the space are the rug, compact swivel chair, arched floor mirror, and side table from Lulu & Georgia:

Flexible jute baskets from Will & Atlas:

Below: A space-savvy vintage lamp I found on Etsy, then painted with Adam to better suit the space:

Below: Our favorite, all-in-one, washable cloth diapers by Grovia:

Below: Brass cranes by Justina Blakeney of Jungalow.:

We used several brass details throughout the space in honor of my Grandpa Lou, who ran a scrapyard. and collected brass pieces from the site.

Below: A space-saving, swivel-arm wall rack that we painted white:

Below: A handmade Sandhill Crane figure (via Etsy) floats above the crib.

Below: We chose a convertible mini crib from Bloom that expands in size and adapts in style when outgrown. Click here to read the full post about this piece, which we first assembled at the Cottage.

Below: A vintage wicker, toy lantern dangles from a wall hook from Connected Goods:

Designing a Multi-Functional Nursery in a Borrowed Space

Post Summary: Designing a Temporary Nursery in a Borrowed Space (as a Method of Soothing Anxiety) 

Our baby is expected in April. Due to recent complications, it was recommended to us by medical professionals to prepare for the possibility of his/her early, emergency arrival. For now, we’re taking it one milestone week at a time, grateful for every tick of the clock with this little one incubating inside me. 

I actively try to think positive. I do believe that there’s unfathomable power in our energy and mindsets. Still, I’ve found the anxiety I’ve experienced during this pregnancy impossible to shelve entirely. It bubbles up in odd times, and has crept into my actions — or inactions — throughout the first and third trimesters in particular. This has been the root of my reluctance to plan a nursery of some sort. To be uncomfortably transparent, I was scared of creating an environment for a little one who might never experience it.

With my first pregnancy, I found myself mentally designing the closet nursery from the day I saw my test results. It was such a deliberate and heart-filled little process and place, with no detail left unconsidered. This time around, I’m more focused on the baby’s first home— my body— and the way it has both bolstered and betrayed us. My priorities have simplified and slowed. I’m honed in on one sanctuary at a time. One event at a time. One day at a time. (This isn’t so much by choice as it is by necessity.)

In the first trimester, I looked ahead by bits and pieces. I squared away the crib, dug out the old carrier and cloth diapers, and made a list of pump parts that needed replacing.  But then, between our move from the cottage and the subsequent health scares, I stopped. I felt stuck in every way. 

Besides, this is my second time I’ve found myself planning a nursery — our last nursery — in a borrowed space. And much like my health, there are things I can change, and things I simply and frustratingly cannot. Sometimes it’s a relief to surrender to one of the limited paths before you. Other times there’s a sense of urgency to fight like hell to form a new path. I didn’t want to surrender. But I also felt far too stretched to do much of anything else. 

This past weekend I turned 40, and I rounded a curve. I’m diving back into this precious pregnancy with a shifted mindset. Every kick and roll from the baby is part of a new, intimate conversation between the two of us about our future. Sleeplessness is no longer time wasted, but bonding time gained. 

As far as the nursery is concerned, I’m regaining sight of an activity I love— working with what I’ve got. I’m blending what already exists in the room with a mix of layers and materials thick with meaning. (The photos in this post are various pieces + inspirations I’m putting to use.) 

I can’t change the carpet, the ceiling light/fan, or even certain furnishings… just like I can’t change some of the things taking place within my body and the baby’s. But I can create a safe, and loving space— inside and outside the womb. And I am finally able to envision and embrace a multi-functional place for our growing family to experience together. 

Posts showing the room transformation to come.

Complications

Content trigger warning: Third trimester pregnancy complications / fetal distress. 

Yesterday we woke up to our very first morning in our new temporary home. I (safely) met with our architect, tackled my Monday work agenda, and felt flushed with relief over the opportunity to finally settle into a new routine that would allow me more moments with West, and dedicated time to better experience my third trimester. 

Above: Photo from my first trimester in Venice.

By evening, I was in an ambulance being transferred from one hospital to another due to pregnancy complications after realizing how drastically my baby’s fetal movements had decreased during the previous, hectic days. 

The initial test results weren’t good news, but thankfully they’ve since improved somewhat. The main issues stem from certain fetal growth complications. But I’m relieved that I believed my body when it told me something just wasn’t right, and that I then had the option of seeking medical help.

My family is now navigating our way through waves of vast worry and uncertainty, but we’re doing so with optimism and hope. Adam and I believe that our unborn child is resilient and knows what to do. And we have faith in the numerous professionals who have provided me and the baby with exceptional medical care thus far. 

I’m not sharing this because it feels better to do so— it doesn’t. It feels too personal, and too terrifying to type out these words with sleepless eyes and shaky hands from a hospital bed. And it causes my family to further sink into some of the potential, unthinkable outcomes that have been outlined for us in stark terms. Instead, I’m sharing this to acknowledge the immense privilege I’m experiencing, even in the midst of gut-wrenching panic. 

Meaningful and tangible support is not provided for all pregnant women when it’s needed most. Systemic and interpersonal racism in America have lead to disparities in maternity care that result in a higher risk of complications and death for Black women and women of color. We are not powerless to help rectify this issue. Our voices matter, independently and collectively, so let’s get + stay vocal about the fact that equitable care must be accessible for all. Our elected officials are meant to represent us, so let’s champion those who support anti-racist policies that are geared towards a safer existence for women and children of color from conception through all stages of life.

Become familiar with your reps — I need to get to know ours now that we’ve just moved, and visit Every Mother Counts for more information and ways to take action. 

... And if you have a moment, please hurl a powerful, positive thought skyward for our little one. I certainly feel this community’s love and strength, so maybe that means my baby will, too. 

Update: I’ve never felt more buttressed by community than I did this week. I cannot thank you enough for your support, which the baby must have felt as well. We were able to leave the hospital, and we did so as one - outcomes that initially seemed unlikely. From the depths of my heart, thank you.

Mini Crib for Our Small Space Nursery

This was a bittersweet moment. I really wanted to have our second child here at the cottage.

Unfortunately, the timing simply didn't align. (Click here to read my post about becoming pregnant after trying to conceive for 2 years.)

For months, West asked to see where the baby will sleep, so we finally showed him the lil’ convertible crib, which will accompany us on our next adventure... 

We have the Bloom alma mini+ crib, which is more compact than a standard design, and can convert to a larger size and toddler bed when the time comes. 

Pregnancy Month 5 / Sheltering at Home Month 9

As we close out November, I’m in month 5 of my pregnancy, and we’re nearly at month 9 of sheltering at home.

We’ve embraced the earlier nights, filling them with glittering lights and fragrant garlands and greenery throughout the Cottage.

Above: A curtain of twinkling lights. (Click here to shop the strands.)

We’ve slowly started decorating for the season. This year, it’s more for something joyful and different to do than anything else, I think…

Above: West wearing his new “Grow With Me” clothes (which last for years and through growth spurts) from Caribou Kids Clothing.

West has picked some of his own ornaments, like a little bird’s nest made of vines, and a bundle of acorns he keeps in an repurposed box on the vintage coffee table.

Our neighbors are still sharing their amazing food with us, while Adam bakes us all sourdough bread to share a few times per month.

This miraculous bump is growing, which is heartening and helps calm my nerves about my “high-risk” pregnancy.

Above: Much-appreciated maternity leggings from Boob Design.

I’m living almost entirely in leggings (pictured above), a loungewear set (pictured below), and a stretchy “Nap Dress” that I suspect will be particularly helpful when nursing in the months to come.

The baby’s first present arrived via a socially-distanced drop-off: a vintage set of handmade crochet booties. Holding them made me process the pregnancy in a way I realized I’d not yet permitted myself to experience.

Our son has grown substantially in recent months, so we ordered him a batch of long-lasting, “grow with me” bamboo clothes, including a holiday set that he’ll undoubtedly wear year-round. (His current grow with me clothes still fit, as they have for years. It’s everything else that he’s outgrown.)

Above: West’s height progression since COVID.

We’ve been attempting our first gingerbread man (borderline inedible) and gingerbread houses (which collapsed within minutes) with West. The excitement of the activity itself is what our four year old clearly relishes the most.

We’re still attempting to be as low waste as possible, using items such as our water carbonator 5-6 times per day, and relying exclusively on things like our bidet attachment. (We’ve bought just one 4-pack of toilet paper in 2020.) I

It’s admittedly more challenging to stay low waste at the grocery store since reusables aren’t permitted in Los Angeles during the pandemic. But we’re still sticking to all the reusables we can, such as our washable face masks and washable un-paper towels, cotton wipes, and so forth.

Above: A face mask made with deadstock fabric from SUAY. This mask is a buy-1-donate-1, with the donations going directly from the maker to Indigenous youth, and the leftover dollars going Seeding Sovereignty.

It’s still a rocky season of life for us, as it is for most. But I’m filled with gratitude for our health and home, and for all the medical and essential workers out there who’ve been working relentlessly in order to keep us all safer.

Pregnancy After Trying to Conceive for Nearly 2 Years

Content alert: This post contains frank and personal stories concerning the process of trying to conceive and stay pregnant. (Related post: My Fertility Journey)

When I was pregnant with West (who is now 4 years old), I couldn’t wait to share the news with our friends, family and online community. This time around has been quite different— just like the pregnancy itself.

I tried to conceive for nearly two years. I’m sure that there were a few months along the way during which Adam and I missed my ovulation window, but there were also months when we saw signs of early pregnancies that didn’t last. I had negative and positive pregnancy tests. I experienced a few instances of bleeding that nurses and I suspected were implantation bleeding (which I had with West). There were months with no periods, months with weeks-long bleeding, and the corresponding hormonal & physical fluctuations. 

I had normal FSH levels / test results for my age, and my incredible doctor informed me that there was no discernible reason that I couldn’t conceive. I had anxiety of course— who hasn’t this year? I was 38… then I turned 39… and the months kept rolling by.

During this time, many women kindly reached out to me with stories of what worked for them when they were trying to conceive. Some individuals encouraged me to change my diet (we’re vegetarians), others suggested particular vitamins, and some recommended hormone creams. I appreciated the intention and time behind each and every message. But I made the personal decision to simply listen to my body and let it guide the way. 

Eventually, I felt like perhaps I should interpret my body’s signals as a sign for me to fully accept second infertility. 

Above: Details from the Cottage nursery in 2016, photographed by Kat Borchart.

I stopped wearing my ovulation tracking bracelet. I enjoyed learning from the insights it provided, and am glad I used it as long as I did. But eventually the act of putting on / taking off the bracelet began to feel hopeless, so I thanked it for what it taught me— particularly about my sleep habits — and tucked the bracelet away in my dopp kit. 

In August, we decided to take a quiet, very COVID-cautious, week-long road trip to visit my sister’s family in Boise. We packed up our little old Honda Fit, buckled in West and the pups, and drove 800+ miles in the blazing sun in order to get out of our bubble for the first time since February. (I didn’t mention the trip on Instagram. I wanted it to be all about family— not work. And I didn’t want to contribute to normalizing travel during the pandemic.) 

We believe it was on this trip that I got pregnant with the new life that’s now inside of me. 

I hadn’t stopped eating a vegetarian diet, nor did I add any supplements to my routine (beyond continuing my prenatals). I didn’t take any hormones either. I experienced no implantation bleeding this time. Instead, my first signs were the common symptoms felt around week 6, such as fatigue, tenderness, nausea.  

Above: The Cottage closet nursery in 2016.

Weirdly enough, it was a random symptom — congestion — that nudged me out of bed at 1 o’clock at night while my family slept, and prompted me to go buy a pregnancy test at a 24-hour pharmacy. While I was at the store, I made an atypical purchase; a tiny toy construction set for West. I had a feeling that Adam and I would be distracted by the test results in the morning, and I didn’t want our then-3 year old, who’d fallen asleep between us in the “family bed” that night, feeling overlooked. 

The moment I returned home, I took the test. 

When the “YES +” appeared, I felt a wave of enormous joy. Then, moments later, I experienced a crash of fears. I decided to sit in those feelings by myself until Adam awoke 5 hours later.

When West began to stir, I decided to activate the camera on my phone and let it run, thinking it might be delightful to catch Adam’s reaction to the test. More than twenty minutes passed, and by then I forgot that the camera was running. When Adam opened his eyes, I handed the test to West and asked him if he wouldn’t mind passing it along to his father. When Adam realized what he was looking it, his eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open in disbelief. (It had been about a year since we’d last seen a positive test.) Despite the worry pressing in on me, I couldn’t help but laugh. And, since I’d forgotten about the camera, I promptly sat up right in front of it.  

Turns out that the miniature construction set was a good call. West was thrilled with that surprise, as Adam and I were thrilled with the other. 

I’m now well into my second trimester— a welcome relief after the first, which was unforgiving. Not only is my pregnancy labeled as a Geriatric (as it was with West), but it’s also now labeled as Elderly Multigravida. 

So far, all medical tests indicate that the baby is healthy and on track. But every time I feel round ligament pain, I desperately hope that’s all it is. Every time I use the restroom, I hold my breath and check for signs of disruption. Every time an unpleasant pregnancy symptom vanishes, relief is accompanied by a parallel panic. 

To the women out there who are trying to conceive and/or who have suffered loss - I am holding you with me tightly, every day. 

---

*A note on privilege: During my pregnancy and birth with West and now, I’ve have the privilege of safe and respectful maternity care. Access, along with the opportunity and space be heard in order to best achieve a healthy outcome for mother and child is by no means a given for every woman in America.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reported that “Black mothers in the U.S. die at three to four times the rate of white mothers, one of the widest of all racial disparities in women's health.” (NPR)

According to Every Mother Counts: “Chronic stress and systemic and interpersonal racism contribute to a higher risk of complications and death for women of color. The number of women who die giving birth in America each year has nearly doubled in the last two decades, and over half of all maternal deaths in the U.S. can be prevented.“

My journey will always include working towards dismantling the systemic racism that robs Black women and women of color from potentially having the same wonderful experience with their baby/babies as I had with West.

Growing Our Family

We’d begun to settle into the belief that it wouldn’t happen... and now here we are— guarded, bewildered, and steeped in gratitude.

Our four year old knows that sometime in spring he’ll become a big brother. To our relief and delight, he’s jubilant, though he has also confessed to being “a little nervous.” (So are we, sweet one. So are we.) 

I have much more to write about this experience thus far, along with our plans and my thoughts on fear, loss and privilege... but I’ll save all that for after the election. Our vote is our voice— let’s be heard, loud and clear.

Related posts:
My Fertility Journey
My Voting Plan

My Fertility Journey

Content alert: This post contains frank and personal stories concerning the process of trying to conceive and stay pregnant.

Yet another month gone by, and I’m still unable to become (or remain) pregnant.

We’ve now been trying for a year and a half. At first, I began the journey with optimistic caution. At 34 years old, we conceived West on the very first try, and it was my first pregnancy ever. The entire experience — including labor — was positive. I knew then how lucky I was. I know it still. (More on that further down in this post.)

In the past 18 months, I’ve had:

• negative and positive pregnancy tests

• bleeding that my doctor and I suspected was implantation bleeding (which I experienced with West)

• months with no periods

• months with weeks-long bleeding

• normal FSH levels / test results for my age

• hormonal & physical fluctuations 

I’m sure that there have been a few months along the way during which we missed my ovulation window. I routinely wore an Ava bracelet to track my cycle, but life still gets in the way sometimes, and that’s okay. (Click here to view my post about intimacy in a small space.)

But the mental and physical rollercoaster of trying to conceive (and the unsuccessful starts) takes a toll of sorts. There are the changes in the body (some visible, some not), the extra careful monitoring of everything consumed, the dramatic dips in energy, and, ultimately, the heartbreaking disappointments. 

I’ve modified my diet, the contents of our medicine cabinet, and even my wardrobe to accommodate the ride. I now sticking almost entirely to clothing that adapts comfortably to the dramatic waistline inches gained and lost over the months, including pants that accommodate the fluctuations while still being appropriate for business video conference calls and bike rides with my son and dogs at a moment’s notice. (This might seem like a silly detail, but every single time I get dressed I’m somehow reminded of my inability to get or stay pregnant, as well as the need to keep my company going during this pandemic while also still being present with my family. To me, it’s a meaningful consideration, even if it’s a minor one.)

It’s a challenge to discern which emotions are a result of my fertility journey, and which are a result of the pandemic, running a small business, and renting in an expensive city. It all adds up to a tangle of anxiety. 

I’ll keep my head up, even during the days that are particularly draining and bleak. Our little family has so much privilege, along with everything we need— we have to pay that forward.

It’s my duty to focus daily on being an anti-racist, raising a feminist and anti-racist child, advocating for voting rights, and fighting for human rights and environmental justice every step of the way. 

Throughout my pregnancy and on the day I was ready to deliver West, I had the privilege of safe and respectful maternity care. It wasn’t perfect— there were points at which I believe the hospital got it wrong. For example, some of the medical staff tried to hurry me into having a Caesarean section since my contractions didn’t progress quickly after my water broke, but I had access to a doula team that advocated hard on my behalf for a vaginal delivery without an epidural. This sort of access, along with the opportunity and space be heard, and the successful outcome is by no means a given for every woman in America.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reported that “Black mothers in the U.S. die at three to four times the rate of white mothers, one of the widest of all racial disparities in women's health.” (NPR)

According to Every Mother Counts: “Chronic stress and systemic and interpersonal racism contribute to a higher risk of complications and death for women of color. The number of women who die giving birth in America each year has nearly doubled in the last two decades, and over half of all maternal deaths in the U.S. can be prevented.“

My fertility journey includes working towards dismantling the systemic racism that robs Black women and women of color from potentially having the same wonderful experience with their baby/babies as I had with our lil’ West.

The fight for equitable maternity care is one to engage in every day until quality healthcare is accessible and provided for all mothers. And as for my physical struggle to conceive… well, I’m 39, so it’s still very much within the scope of possibility, but I’m coming to terms with the fact that West might never have a sibling beyond our pups, StanLee & Sophee. (For reasons I’m not yet ready to discuss publicly, we aren’t currently considering IVF or adoption.)

Just when I start to feel overwhelmed with disappointment, West intuitively swoops in and reminds me of my overflowing gratitude for this lil’ family, home and life.