Rowan's Birth Story

Ok, so there's not chronological order to these blogs so far, nor have I really introduced myself. Oh well, it's time to write Baby Rowan's birth story.

I'll start at the beginning. On our wedding night we got pregnant with Rowan. We knew we could, and it was sort of magical, being our big day. Avery was actually four months old, but they count back from the first day of your last period, so their due date set them to be thirteen months apart to the day.

Before the expected date of the monthly visitor, I was supremely grouchy and hormonal. Not much different than the last year growing, and having Avery. I decided to buy a pregnancy test, and went for the all out cheap two pack. I actually took one a few days before, and the line changed into a plus sign, but it was very faint. I honestly thought it was wrong, that I'd bought the cheap test, and should've splurged the extra couple bucks. I threw it in the trash, and kept going back every couple of minutes to see if maybe it turned into a darker pink line. I didn't even tell anyone about it.

So I'm one day late, and have a roaring fight with Steve. I went to the bathroom saw the test, and thought, "What the hell, take the other one." It turned to a bright pink plus sign right away. My honest reaction was, "Oh, that makes sense." I came out of the bathroom, put the positive test beside Steve, and said, "I'm pregnant", then walked away. We forgot the fight, and were really happy.

I tandem nursed Avery until I was about six months along. She wanted to fall asleep nursing, and it was getting really hard on my growing belly. She also was starving, I could only make two ounces when full, which wasn't enough for her demanding milk diet. And of course when she started solids, she became severely constipated, and has poo fear problems ever since. My midwife, Emma, told us to make the switch to formula, and sadly we did. It was hard for me, but about a week or so after the switch, and she was gaining weight again, I got over it. I mean I liked having my body somewhat back to myself again too.

We had our standard ultrasound at five months gestation. The same doctor as Avery's gave it to us again. It was funny, I almost think he'd have told us her sex, but I got freaked out, and said I wasn't sure I'd want to know. Poor Steve, I drove him loony with both girls, asking him at least five times a day if he thought they were boys or girls. The hospital now has 3d ultrasound, so I kept trying to laugh and cough, in hopes I'd see the privates. It didn't work. We have the picture of her in 3d, but not on the computer. The scan was taking a really long time, and he wasn't telling us why. He even left the room to look at Avery's file. We left unsettled. You know how doctors avoid telling you things.

I told Deborah about it at my next midwife appt., and so she set up another ultrasound, to make sure there was no lobe on Rowan's placenta, like there was on Avery's. The next scan was short and sweet, they found nothing, and confirmed the placenta's placement was on the front of my belly. I found relief from that because I rarely felt her move until I was almost seven months along.

My pregnancy went by very quickly until the last month or so. I was extremely fatigued, and power napped with Avery every chance we had. I also had pain from my pubic bone separating, and could barely walk to the end of the driveway without excruciating pain. Being pregnant for two years straight wreaked havoc on my pelvis, and with weekly chiropractic care, and yoga when I can, I'm slowly getting better. I actually think the last trimester was way harder than having the girls now at their current age and high demands.

I had another pregnancy photo shoot, this time with Crystal Clear Photography, at about 35 weeks along. Here is one of my favourite photos from it:


The start of the pregnancy I thought she's come on her due date, but the last half I thought early for sure. Especially when the midwives were saying any day at thirty-seven weeks. I was spoiled from Avery being born one week early, and those last three weeks dragged on forever!

The afternoon of the twenty-ninth, Deborah checked me out to see if I was dilated, and I wasn't. My cervix was still pretty far back, but she thought it could be because I'm six feet tall. A little show happened, but we couldn't be sure. I thought I'd be overdue for sure, and wanted to shoot myself.

That night around eight-ish, I started having a couple uncomfortable braxton hicks contractions. We planned to call our midwives early, being our second baby, and labours are significantly fast. We live twenty minutes out of town, half an hour speeding to the hospital. I called Chelsea and Lisa (my Douala support peeps) and let them know that I thought it might be tonight. I then called Pants, who was taking Avery for us. I wasn't sure, but let her know I was in prelabour.

Actual prelabour lasted one hour, and I was having strong contractions all over the map. Steve didn't think he should take Avery to Pant's yet, but I forced him to because I was so scared to have fast full blown labour by myself, and it would take over half an hour for him to go and come back. Once she was gone, I had a shower, lit candles with aromatherapy, played my beautiful cd from my yoga teacher, and sat on my exercise ball.

I rocked on the ball until about ten-thirty, or so, and started having contractions about 5 minutes apart. Half an hour later, the contractions were still regular, so we called Deborah and the girls at about eleven. Lisa picked up Chelsea, they dropped her son off, then got here about one am or so, and Deborah arrived shortly before that time.

Deborah checked my cervix, on the couch, and I was only one cm dilated. I felt like a fool calling them there, and having barely any change. I mean with Avery, I had waited until six cm. We decided everyone should try and get some sleep, and so everyone else had about an hour, but I was having furious contractions, on my bed, and I didn't sleep. After that hour, I asked Deborah to check me again because I was really having to work with the contractions. Low and behold I had opened to four cm, in that one hour.

Deborah sat at the dining room table mostly, writing out my progress of labour and drank tea, while Steve, Lisa, Chels, and I hung out on my bed labouring some more. Our midwife was letting me have my home birth, and keeping her distance a bit because she had a cold. I really wanted her here because she delivered Avery, and it was really special to have her at both births. Being on the bed was like a giant slumber party, lots of laughing and talking. Well, except the regular contractions reminding me i was in labour.

I'm not sure how much time had gone by, maybe an hour or two, but Deborah decided to check the progress again, and I was at seven cm. Steve had already filled the birth pool, in our room, beside our bed. He topped it off with some fresh hot water, and Deborah put her trusty turtle thermometer in it. It's important for the water to be at a certain temperature for the baby.

The birth pool was absolutely amazing! I felt so much lighter, and was able to move around freely during contractions. It lifted alot of gravity, and I was drifting around comfortably in so many ways I couldn't have out of water. We borrowed the tub from the midwive's office, and bought the liner for it. It is also thoroughly cleaned between and after, so there's nothing weird or gross about reusing the tub. There's two handles inside of the tub, for pushing if I wanted to birth baby in the tub. When filled with air, the bottom had like two layers, basically a pillow effect for under my bottom. Indeed the tub was the best place to be during transition, and I found myself whizzing through the hardest part of labour.

I did have to get out to pee, though, and that was getting harder and harder. It's not too far to the toilet, but having contractions in the bathroom sucked big time. I think I was around eight cm or so, when I threw up into the bathroom sink. Pretty standard in the transitional stages of labour. Just another sign baby is coming soon. Chelsea made sure I kept drinking diluted apple juice, to keep my fluids and sugar going.

I'm not sure how long I actually laboured in the tub, I think it must have been an hour to two tops, when in that time, Deborah decided to call for backup. It's standard to have two midwives when delivering during a home birth, just like a nurse and doctor in the hospital. I was still in the tub, labouring hard, when Jessica came over. There was a shift in the energy, and I wish she'd come a bit earlier. I think because our house is out of town, it took her longer to get here. During office appointments, you usually see just one midwife, and I also wish they rotated the visits, so you could be comfortable with everyone, and not feel disappointed if baby time comes, and your regular midwife isn't available. She is a beautiful person, but at the time I was so far into labour, I shouldn't have cared who saw me savage, but I did a wee bit.

The bed was then set up, I had everything in plastic bags, washed, folded, and labeled. My virgo Deborah was very impressed with my anal organisation and thorough cleanliness. I got onto the bed, and didn't feel too shy with Jess then, and was checked. I was plateauing at about eight cm, just like when I was in labour with Avery. You know, the whole labour for both girls was actually very similar, except with Rowan I didn't really have a warm up, just a couple mild contractions! I asked Deborah to break my waters, and get it moving, same as I did before. The contractions were intense and overlapping each other, in that last bit, and I started crying. The pressure from baby, and the heaviness out of water was excoriating. Not painful per say, but definitely a true test of a woman's strength to work through.

I kept crying and saying, "I'm going to have a baby." I think repeating it was a way for me to get myself through the tough time I was in. I then started feeling that bear down sensation to push. Deborah checked me, I was at nine cm, just like Avery's birth, and so she pushed the lip of the cervix in, while I had to push Rowan's head past it. I forgot that detail in Avery's story, and both times it hurt like hell. Simply being checked makes you want to kick the midwife in the face, but that to me was the absolute worst feeling besides crowning.

So there I am trying to push, and I kept sliding all over the stupid plastic sheet on the bed. I also wasn't trying all the way. Internally I felt terrified of crowning baby. I knew what the ring of fire would feel like, and didn't want to feel it again. It took forty five minutes total in that stage, which is a long time for a second baby. Chelsea came up on the bed with me, and let me grab onto her for support, while Steve sat beside me encouraging me, and Lisa was taking pictures. I still feel queasy about grabbing Chelsea's side like I was, I mean I was squeezing the hardest I could. Oops, friend, I love you and am sorry! Jessica kept telling me I wasn't pushing hard enough, which I guess she meant as encouraging, but it was pissing me off! I found out later that I was glaring at her in between contractions, and I yelled at her, too, saying, "I'm trying as hard as I f##$ing can!"

Deborah intervened and just checked in with me, I cried about crowning, and said I didn't want to. She encouraged me that it wouldn't take long, and reminded me that I had to. So I had another pushing contraction, which for me gives me about three to five good pushes. Rowan crowned for a sec, went back in, when a big gush of blood came out. Deborah yelled, "Get that baby out now!" And so I did, with one giant push. See, the blood gush meant early placenta separation; otherwise, no oxygen for baby. There was no time for nice oil massage or very much help on getting her out, it was very fast. I think because she was my second, I had little damage, but totally would have if she'd been the first!

They put Rowan on my chest, she cried right away, and was totally rooting right from the start. She was cheesy, and had Steve's eyebrow scowl at first appearance. After the shot of oxytocin, and I birthed her placenta, they took baby for weight, and all of that good stuff. She was eight pounds even. Her placenta was huge, and I clearly remember Deborah commenting on how robusque it was. It's in our freezer, waiting to be planted next spring, when I make a special little garden dedicated to the girls. I'm going to fill it with their birth flowers, amongst other things.

Rowan had a good latch right from the start, and we had a power nap together before Steve picked up Avery. I did end up getting an infection in my uterus, which is super rare from home births, and stayed three nights in the hospital. It sucked, but Rowan was with me, and I caught up on sleep I was not getting at home. As much as I love the water and the comfort of home, I think the hospital is great too, especially for second time Momma's, we all need recovery time!

I think that about sums it up, it was a magical, comfortable, and empowering birth. I'm really happy I didn't chicken out, and was so blessed to have it all work out safely. The best part of course was Rowan, and that I gave Avery a baby sister, on my big sister's birthday!

Here's a few pictures of Rowan in the beginning:

First public tantrum! Oh boy!

I've been wondering one thing; If it's called terrible twos, in the toddler years, what is everything before called?
I took the girls to a small market, off of the highway yesterday. I didn't want to load the double stroller just to grab milk and eggs, or leave them in the car, while I grabbed a shopping cart. Hindsight, the car would be cool enough, seeing as the A.C. had blown us into an arctic freeze during the drive to the store.
So, what happened? Well, genius Jessica decides to take Avery out first, and actually thought she'd stand beside me, while I quickly got Rowan into the baby becco carrier, and then we would walk to the carts together. Rowan's half way in, and I needed to do up the three buckles, and Avery takes off fast! So I chase her down, try grabbing her arm, while holding Rowan into my chest by only her head. Avery gets loose, I fall on my ass, she takes off toward the loading ramp, behind the grocery store. If she'd fallen down, from the pavement onto pavement, well you can imagine. So I'm freaking out seeing this happening in my head, and I scramble to grab her. I catch her about four feet away, by the arm, and she throws herself onto the pavement, and tries rolling under some random car.
While I'm down beside Avery, I get Row safely done up, and carry Avery to the carts. Rowan's screaming, and Avery's doing her "Arch and Slide" as I call it. Basic toddler move- lifts her arms straight up, so you can't pick her up, and arches her back, so she slides down onto the ground. A lady passerby helped me get the monster into the cart, where she proceeded to scream through the store.
At that point, I considered leaving the situation, but decided no way, I'd get the goods and get out of there quickly. I didn't like everyone staring at me, and felt my red faced embarrassment, and normally I could brush Avery off, and laugh at the situation, but with both Rowan freaking from the drama, in her sling, well, it took everything in me not to cry, too! Total melt down for all!
I got out of the store, with my goods, and loaded them into the car. Avery first, and Rowan second, then left the cart there. I felt very guilty about that; I always return my cart, but in that situation, I figured it was okay. I didn't speak to Avery the whole drive home, and told myself that if I stayed mad at her, she wouldn't understand when we got home. And so the day went on and I pulled my composure back together.
Painting the happy face is hard sometimes, but I just want to be good to the girls. Life is always learning lessons, not mistakes, and I sure learned a lesson about Avery yesterday, she is too busy to stand still yet. Maybe she doesn't know what it means.
On the bright side, I got an awesome photo of them both, before we left, and they're wearing matching outfits:

Stuck in a rut.

I have always felt happy about having two children close in age, and we planned it this way, but I've been battling this inner feeling of regret not being able to focus on Avery more.
Since my husband has gone back to work, I've been staying home all of the time because it's so much easier than going out. It's like I'm falling into a rut, and not being as active with Avery or for myself. (He went back to work about two weeks ago) When Steve was home we were taking the girls out more because it was one parent per child. Both of them have high demands right now. And like I said, it's easier to stay home than even try.
I don't regret having Rowan, no , no, no. I mean regret in the way that I want to show Avery fun things, and explore new skills with her, but I feel like I'm always putting them on the back burner, simply because I'm nursing, burping, or changing her little sister. I have a new appreciation for "quality time" with both girls, as I now see when only one is sleeping how nice it is to focus on an uninterrupted newborn cuddle, or a toddler puzzle.
I keep telling myself every night that I should've taken them to the beach, and that tomorrow I will do so. Honestly, I start the day, and by the time we're all actually dressed and everything, it's almost lunch/ nap time. Like I said before and again, it's easier to just stay home! It seems like the days are going by way faster with the second baby. And maybe I'm hard on myself about not doing enough, outside of the house, but I don't really have anyone to talk to about these feelings, most of my close mommy friends are on baby number one.
I hate feeling like I should be doing more, but my parents are coming soon, and instead of thinking they'll help on their visit, I keep worrying what they'll think of me. That I should be taking the girls somewhere in the afternoons, or something like that. I guess I don't take criticism very well, and so I avoid it by withdrawing from my relationships. Seriously, I am having anxiety every day when I think about having my family around, and Steve working. Being alone with the girls, at home, isn't hard per say, it's just non stop putting them before doing anything for myself.
On a positive note, I haven't been feeling like I need to nap really anymore, and so I've been enjoying showers, or cleaning the big jobs like bathroom, hanging the laundry, and washing the floors. Isn't it funny how cleaning never stops now, and it never seems to be caught up really?!
I've gotten lazy on the morning walks. Steve and I were taking the girls out every morning. I'm not sure how many km the walk is, but I'd say it's between an hour to and hour and a half, or so. We could only go in the mornings because it's way too hot any other time of day!
Just writing these thoughts out, I'm realising I have to go tomorrow morning, and get out of this rut, and not just say it! It's summer! Sheesh! I guess having two is challenging, but it must be for everyone at any age difference between their kids. It'll get easier, I mean I have made it so far. We can't be given more than we can handle, it must be the line of finding balance.

This is the new double stroller we bought second hand. Totally expensive, but a great investment. Too bad jogging wheels cost one hundred dollars plus tax and shipping. Ugh.

Hiccups and giggles

Both of the girls seem to get the hiccups when I make them smile, laugh, and giggle. Especially when they're lying on the change table. Special time to bond, when you're changing diapers.
I believe this is the first thing in common for them, and a sweet new memory.

Avery's Brth Story

Talk about long overdue, but better late than never...


Here's her 5 month ultrasound photo. Our hospital only gives one ultrasound per pregnancy, at about 20 weeks gestation, providing the pregnancy is healthy. Avery looks like Skeletor, from He-man here. She wouldn't stay still during the exam, and turned her back to the photo thingy. Hmmm, just like in real life, an Aries, who can't stay still!!!

I had a photo session when I was 37 weeks pregnant with Avery, here's a few of my favourites:









My due date was April 5, but on the night of Thursday March 27, 2008, I began having a cramping sensation, that wouldn't go away. Kind of like menstrual cramping, sort of a dull achy feeling, that doesn't go away. The Friday morning, I had tightening in the belly, which were braxton hicks contractions. I had no idea, at that time, what they were.


I decided to drink some blue cohosh tea, which tasted like drinking dirt, I do not recommend it. I thought it would help me go into labour, not knowing I was already in pre labour. My midwife, Emma, was out of town, so Deborah came over for a home visit that day. My blood pressure had gone up 20 points, from the tea! She asked me to NOT drink it because I was still planning a home birth, at that time.


While Deborah was over, and about to measure my uterus, I had a contraction. She said,"Oh! You're having a contraction!" And I laughed and told her, I didn't even know that that was what they were. I got very excited, and thought I would be having a baby that night. Nope, wrong there! I called my sister in law, Cathy, who was my doula, and was with my sister at her birth. She wanted to come over right then and there, but I knew we needed time, so I kept her on-call.

I timed out what felt like the real thing for the rest of the day. Cathy came over, we walked my stinky dog, hoping to stimulate labour. That night, Cathy went home, and I went to bed with my very sick husband that night, disappointed that I was being tricked by false labour. (I forgot to mention Steve had a lung infection, and slept the whole 3 days of my birthing process.---PUNK!)

Saturday morning came, and I spent the most part of the day timing and sometimes ignoring annoying braxton hicks that felt strong and possibly real at times, then suddle and very irregular. After dinner, Cathy went to a show she was preforming in, and came over after. She mad every sure that I was ok with her going. At that point, I thought labour would never start, so I had no problem with that! Meanwhile, my Momma friend Chelsea came over, and together we walked that dirty dog twice as long as Cathy and I did; I was determined to get my labour started! I stopped and rocked, while I was having contractions, and they did seem to be falling into a regular pattern. At about 8 pm, I was on the phone with another friend, thanking her for hosting my baby shower, 5 days before, and had a contraction I couldn't talk through. I knew then that I needed to go to bed, and try to sleep a bit. I should mention that my prenatal class instructor drilled into my mind that you do NOT call your health care provider until your contractions are five minutes apart, and you then are in active labour.


So it's Saturday night, went to bed at about 8:30 pm, and bacon flipped between contractions. I wish I could remember my strange dreams from that time. In the meantime, Cathy came over, and she was sleeping on the couch, waiting for my labour to take off. At about 3:30 am, I called for her to come in, and said,"I think we better call the midwife." We went to the living room, where I called Deborah, and charted contractions, until she came over.


The contractions were pretty intense at that time, but I was still very strong and sat on my exercise ball, breathing through them. I'm not sure what came over me, but I decided I wanted to go to the hospital and back out of the home birth plan. There was a cluster of births happening, I was with a midwife I'd only met a few times, and I felt unsure, not knowing what to expect. Really the hospital is the best of both worlds, your midwife is there, and you have nurses who help you breast feed and help with all of the things you have no idea what you are doing!


Deborah got to my house at about 4 am, we were packing to leave, Steve was running around like a chicken with his head cut off, and Cathy was baking delicious crumble to fuel us all. She checked me, and I was 6 cm dilated. She was shocked that I had waited so long, and very proud of my calm demeanor. I called my parents, to let them know we were leaving for the hospital, when my mucous plug fell out, into my hand, while I was on the phone with my step-dad! And in the background, Steve is running around like Chicken Little, yelling, "The mucous plug fell out! The mucous plug fell out!" I could have died then; why wasn't my mom on the phone?

We all piled in the car, and followed Deborah to the hospital. Steve raced there, but driving through contractions was hell on earth, and every bump on the way was very uncomfortable! When we got to the hospital, we parked in the midwive's reserved space. Thankfully they have them because you can never find a spot there, and that was the last thing I wanted to be thinking about. We walked to the doors, and Deborah grabbed a wheel chair for me, and I felt silly getting in, but realised I couldn't walk upstairs at that point. We got up to the maternity ward, and went into the smaller room, waiting to go into the big one that has a nice couch and private bathroom. I laboured in that room, we brought my birth ball from home. I think we were in there for about an hour?


The nice room was cleaned up, lucky me, and I was about 7 cm dilated. I went into the shower, and laboured on the bed for about 2 hours. Deborah checked me, and I had only gone up to 8 cm, and seemed to be plateauing there. I started to cry my eyes out then. I felt so overwhelmed with everything! Being at the hospital, under harsh lighting, the fast and furious contractions, and how long I'd been in labour. I felt defeated. We decided to intervene, and break my waters. I'll tell you, what a relief it was. Wow! It relieved so much pressure, I wanted to sit in it, and so I did. All of a sudden the pressure was back,way stronger than before. My labour was back in full speed, so I went into the shower again.


Being in that small space with a seat and bar on the wall was the true test of my womanly strength from within. I was in transition, and the contractions were so strong and fast, that they seemed to never end and overlap each other. I would stand up during their height, and hold onto the bar, knowing standing would help open the rest of my cervix up. It felt tribal and animalistic, holding my mouth open, a steady noise came up from my belly, through my voice. It was the only thing that kept me from breaking down and bawling, under so much pressure.


I went on the toilet, and had my first pushing feeling. Like a weight pushing every particle of your body downwards, from the tip pf your head down. Steve (Daddy dumb dumb) looked at my feet and said, "What's wrong with your feet?" (They were very swollen.) I cried, and Cathy brought me back to the bed. Well, what do you know, I was 10 cm dilated, and waiting for the true pushing contractions to start.


I squatted when ready, and hated it! I could not handle the pressure there, and I freaked out! I found myself on my left side, bed up on a comfortable angle, and slept through the first few contractions. I was so tired. Deborah got into her scrubs, and the nurse came in. Avery started to crown, and it hurt like crazy. I started crying again, and asked for a c-section. Ha ha, too late. She was coming out alot, during the contractions, but I thought she was coming out very little. Deborah asked me if I wanted to touch her head, and I wouldn't, too much for me. The nurse put the pants on, grabbed my foot, and basically yelled at me to push that baby out! It was like she could read my mind. She told me intuitively, to push past the burning, I could do it, and out came Avery in one push (I couldn't stop it) with her hand above her head. 9:24 am.


They put her on my chest, and she didn't cry. I thought she was dead, but then she started moving around and crying, rooting really. Stevey told me she was a girl. Lucky me, no damage, and the nurse helped me get her latched, she had a strong latch. Her placenta came out, and had a lobe on it and calcium build up, so they had to take it away for testing. We got her weighed and all of that good stuff, and then Deborah had to leave for another birth. Poor midwives...


I left the hospital around 3 pm, not knowing I would get Steve's flu, or Deborah would be at her third birth of the day that night, so I had no help. Alas we got through it, and here we are...


Here's some photos from the beginning, and thanks for reading. I'm glad to have remembered so much. I'll write out Rowan's next.

My darling friend threw a little shower for Rowan. It was cozy with a mitt-full of my favourite girls and brother. He always fits in with the ladies anyhow, so it wasn't weird for him. Our hostess provided a nice spread of appys, and mellow music, and a big cozy couch (I'm talking big, like fits 10 people on it!)

As much fun as everyone had, I felt a bit overwhelmed with Avery. I couldn't not bring her, I would've regretted it forever and ever. Everyone there loves her, but maybe were not as watchful as I would be. Moms seem to have eyes in the back of their heads, and I think living in busy toddler mode, I know not to turn those watchful eyes away for too long. Avery kept getting hurt, and being out of our comfort zone, I was having a hard time relaxing and socialising because I felt anxiety when she was out of my sight.

I remind myself that it will get easier some day, but the truth is I find myself missing the times I was alone with Avery, and having the free hands to rescue her. Before Rowan's birth, I saw Avery as my little baby, but she's not little anymore, compared to her new born sister. With her new talent of walking and the beginning of talking, she's more of a toddler now. I love how fun she is now, but it's sad how fast she has become this firey little, independant, curious, tantruming person.

Avery is so, so, so sweet with her sister. Always trying to help Mommy, pushing the baby swing, and kissing and gently rubbing Rowan's head. She has a serious jealous streak when I nurse Rowan, however, and climbs all over us. I try to get onto her level, especially when that is happening, and do things like read to her, or just sit on the floor with her. She absolutely loves when I sit there, and simply show her something new with a toy.

I've also given her some of my milk, now that I'm actually producing again, after it depleting, being pregnant. The first time she put her little hand to my face, and touched it like when she used to nurse. Her own little way of saying thankyou. That moment was extremely emotional for me, especially because I had a really hard time, internally, weaning her at eight months. I am comfortable with that, being the right choice for us, and am proud to have nursed both of my children at all; so many women don't even try.

Rowan is my little earth angel. Sweet Taurus. She reminds my husband and I of an old soul. My Grampa died a couple days after she was born, and there's a part of me that feels him in her. He was a Cancer, and her moon is in Cancer. Steve feels his deceased older brother in her. Hmmm...

About Rowan, she is pretty quiet, and looks around absorbing everything. She's very cuddly, and into Mommy most. (Of course) She's been really awesome always knowing to sleep longer at night, but had no soart of schedule until lately. It's nice when you really figure eachother out, and everyone's lives start running smoothly together. I love sleeping with her, it makes so much sense. I totally could not imagine getting out of bed, and trying to settle her back to sleep. No thanks! We nurse and fall back asleep together, the same way mammals in the wild co-exist with their babies.

Well... it's getting late, and my brain is turning mushy, so I'll sign off for now.