Declan's Birth Story

This is the story of how our Declan James came into our world; fast and peacefully at home. I also wrote up my birth stories of Judah and Willow after they were born. If you're like me and love reading birth stories, you'll find Judah's HERE and Willow's HERE.

Everything Changes in Month 8

40 weeks pregnant

My 4th pregnancy, 3rd baby. We felt ready and prepared. Then the Coronavirus hit the USA in early March 2020, about a month before my due date. I have processed through many of the emotions I was feeling during the last month of pregnancy in my personal journal and with friends and family, but I will say that it definitely wasn't easy. As things were changing so rapidly for all of us everywhere, it was hard to keep up with how and where we were going to have this baby. We'd considered a home birth when I was about 4-5 months pregnant, but decided to stick with the hospital birth for various reasons. Still, I couldn't quite drop the feeling in my gut about having a home birth, and I had several dreams about it both before and after we had met with a midwife in October 2019.

We had moved forward with the plan of having this baby at the same place where Judah and Willow were born. We did have a very positive experience both times there and felt supported in my birthing choices and plan with the nurses and OB staff. Then, in mid-March, when hospitals started limiting support persons allowed in with laboring moms, everything changed for us. My heart broke for all of the pregnant women going into labor that week who would be without the support they expected. I reached out to the midwife I had contacted and met with late 2019 and asked if she was taking on new patients, in light of the changes going on in hospitals. After a very reassuring conversation with her, we were set on a home birth and thus began preparing our new birth plan 3 weeks before my due date.  I had always wanted to do a water birth, so we rented a birthing pool from our midwife and gathered our birth kit and all supplies we would need as soon as we could, as we had no idea when this little guy would decide to show up. There's such a sense of urgency at the end of pregnancy and adding such last minute changes amidst the craziness of a worldwide pandemic was a lot for me. Still, I cannot deny this deep inner peace that I felt once we decided on the home birth and having Susan, our midwife, as our point person. I also felt deep relief that both my Doula, Rachel, and Phil would be a part of the special day as well. They were an amazing support to me during Judah and Willow's deliveries and knowing they'd both be there was a balm for my anxiety.

(If interested, you can read more about my thoughts leading up to the last minute change to a home birth in an article I was interviewed for in our local paper HERE)

Weeks of Early Labor

Having had two babies before, I was quite familiar with what early labor feels like. I had been having lower back pain/pressure, low pelvic pressure and Braxton Hicks contractions for weeks, since about the time we were all told to stay home and don't see anyone else except the people living under the same roof as you. The night before Easter, Saturday April 11, I slept very poorly from having off and on contractions all night long. They weren't regular or getting stronger, but they were enough to keep me awake and make me think I'd wake up ready to have an Easter baby. But, alas, Easter morning I woke up and everything had stopped. I felt as good as a 40+ week pregnant mama can. Phil and I even managed to cook an Easter ham, mashed potatoes and veggies for an Easter dinner that night (FYI, in hindsight, would not recommend doing that 500 months pregnant. There's a difference between trying to make a quarantine holiday special for your kids and just overdoing it..we definitely chose the latter, ha! But it was still delicious and no baby came that day).

Declan's Birthday

Monday, April 13, 2020: I went to bed the night before feeling all the normal late pregnancy aches, but nothing specific. I woke up around 3:30am Monday morning needing to use the bathroom. I tried to fall back to sleep but my body was ramping up for birth and sleep was not happening. I started feeling contractions that went from my lower back all the way around my mid-section, so I knew these were not Braxton Hicks. They felt different and they weren't going away. I tried to time them by looking at the glow of numbers on my night stand clock, but my head was pretty foggy and I can't remember how regular they really were - possibly coming every 10-15 minutes if I had to guess. I made several more trips to the bathroom and then decided I should probably wake up Phil. At 5am I shook Phil awake and said "I think I'm labor." He popped up and started getting things ready in our bedroom and timing my contractions. At this point, they were coming every 5-6 minutes and lasting about 30 seconds or so. I asked Phil if this really was the real deal as I was afraid to call Susan and Rachel over for nothing. After he supported me through two or three contractions, he made the call to call everyone, despite my are you sure?? him over and over (and thank God he called them...read on!).

He called our Doula Rachel, Susan our midwife, and my mom to come and get the kids at 7AM when they woke up. Rachel arrived around 5:30am and started immediately helping me through each contraction, putting counterpressure on my back. I was listening to my Hypnobabies, kneeling on the floor and leaning over our bed. Phil had asked Susan on the phone if he should start filling up the birthing tub, but she said to wait until she got to us. I remember popping out one of my headphones and asking Phil "Why is the tub not being filled up?" he told me why and I told him he needed to start filling it up because it takes time to fill and I knew things were moving along quickly. He obliged (good guy, my hubs).

From about when Rachel arrived at 5:30am to a few minutes after 6am, things ramped up very quickly. I knew these contractions, I'd experienced them before with Judah and Willow, my body was gearing up to push this baby out. I asked Phil and Rachel "Is Susan here yet?" and they assured me she'd be here any minute. Phil texted her at 6:05am letting her know things were moving along quickly, and by then she was already in our driveway. She came in to the bedroom and I was ready to get into the birthing pool. It felt super hot so Phil added some cold water to cool it down. I waited a few more minutes but then knew I needed to get in the water if I wanted this baby born in the tub. I felt my water start to leak as Phil and Rachel helped me into the tub. I held on to the edge of the tub, facing Phil, squatted down and felt my water break completely. Then, the urge to push. I'm not sure if I could ever find the words to describe the feelings in this moment. Third time around and it feels just as surreal each time. So raw. So natural. So earth-like. The moments before pushing new life into the world outside of the womb are so intense. It is painful, yes, but it's so empowering. Never in my life have I felt more alive or more in control of my body and its capabilities.

I gave a push and heard someone say that his head was out. With Susan supporting the baby's head, I took a few deep breaths before pushing again, and out he came into the water. A rush of love,

A rush of emotions; Susan checking Declan's heart beat

hormones and tears. I reached down and scooped him up, sitting down in the tub so I could hold him on my chest. That was the most peaceful and beautiful way I could ever have imagined the moments after birth to be. We sat in the tub for 20 minutes together, just like that, waiting for the umbilical cord to finish pulsing before cutting the cord. Susan had me reach down and feel the umbilical cord and whoa is that amazing! I could literally feel the blood pulsing through it as it continued to provide nourishment to Declan even outside of the womb. 

Big brother Judah holding the flashlight while Phil cuts the cord

At 6:30am, Phil went to go get Judah to bring him in to meet his new brother. Phil said when he went in to go get Judah he said he had a surprise for him. When he told him that his baby brother was here, Judah gave a huge smile and was giddy. He carried him into our bedroom and Judah was carefully taking everything in. A slow smile spread across his face when he saw Declan in my arms in the tub. He held the flashlight so that Susan could see in the tub to help Phil cut the umbilical cord. It was such a special moment that I'm so glad our boy got to be a part of. After that, I got out of the tub, birthed the placenta, and then laid in my bed while Declan had his first latch breastfeeding. Rachel took some pictures for us, Phil got me water, food and brought in Willow to meet Declan, and Susan started cleaning our bedroom and reassuring me with her calming voice and words about post partum care for me and baby. My heart was full. So very, very full.

Declan James, born April 13, 2020 at 6:18am. From waking up Phil at 5am not sure if we should call anyone yet, to him arriving before my mom even came to get the kids, it was a very fast delivery of our precious boy. 8lb, 6oz and 20 inches of pure perfection. We are so in love, and so glad you are here!

First family photo, day after birth

If it's any indication by my post, I would recommend my midwife and her practice in a second. The care and reassurance she provided to us (and still is as of the date I'm writing this, for post partum and pediatric care!) was absolutely priceless and invaluable. If you are local to the Hudson Valley, NY area and pregnant, please read more about them HERE. The care Susan has provided to our entire family unit during pregnancy, labor, birth and post partum has convinced me that midwives should run the world. And no there is no sponsorship or affiliation in this post, I'm just simply sharing our positive experience to hopefully help others have a similar one :)

Willow's Birth Story

It's the last day of June. It's amazing what a month can bring. It's even more amazing what just one day can bring, a mere few hours.

I absolutely love birth stories. I love reading them, I love hearing them from anyone who cares to share their personal birth stories with me. There is something so very special about the day a new life is brought into the world. And no two stories are the same. Just how each person is unique, each story of how they come into the world is as so. And so, I have been wanting to write up Willow's birth story ever since we got home from the hospital, while it's still fresh in my mind. Not that anyone who is a part of a birthing experience could ever possibly forget the day, but I do know that small details fade away as I try to think back to Judah's birth story. If you're interested, I did write a post about his birth here.

It's fitting that I write this up on the last day of the month. June was the last month of my pregnancy and, ya'll, it was a long month. I'd been having early labor symptoms since June 1st hit. It's like once the calendar turned over and I said to Phil "We're having a baby this month," my body was like oh yes you are! Let me just get you thinking this baby is coming every day this month, just in case you aren't ready enough to meet her!

My OB told me I was 1cm on June 1st. By the following week, I was 2-3cm. And I stayed there until active labor started early on Friday, June 22nd...

Judah's little pitter patter came into our room and climbed into our bed around 7am that morning. When I woke, I could feel a lot of pressure in my lower back, but it wasn't much different than the pressure I'd been feeling off and on the rest of the month. I got up, ate breakfast, showered and dressed, but I did have to stop every so often to lean over something to try and stretch out my back and breathe through what felt like contractions. I'd been having Braxton Hicks contractions all month too, some of them strong enough to land me in yoga positions to ease the pressure, so I assumed this was more of that. I messaged my Doula, Rachel, that things may be happening today, just a heads up. At 8:30a, Phil called Rachel and said he thought she'd better come, since my contractions were pretty regular at 10 minutes apart. He also messaged my Mom to come and pick up Judah. 

Rachel arrived and came to be with me in my bedroom, where I had already plugged in my headphones to tune in to my Hypnobabies. Oh Hypnobabies..I could write a whole separate blog entry just on this. I used this method prepping for Judah's birth too and it helped me immensely during my delivery with him, so I knew I would use it again for my next pregnancy. It retrains your brain to eliminate the fear of birth and replaces it with thoughts of positivity and peace. I'm a huge fan of anything that brings me peace. I can't say enough about how much I credit the lack of pain I felt during both of my births to Hypnobabies.

I spent the next few hours walking around my house and just following my body's lead. I laid down in bed with Phil, walked around our bedroom and house, and spent some time on our back porch to get some fresh air. I remember thinking wow, it's such a beautiful day and also I will always have this part of Willow's birth in our forever home, laboring here and then bringing her home here. In twenty years from now, even if our home looks different and our back porch has changed, I will have those memories of looking at the trees in our backyard as I breathed through contractions that brought our baby girl closer to my arms.

The time I spent laboring at home was so peaceful. It was serene. And beautiful. I remember feeling the urge to pee, a lot. I guess when there's a little tiny human head pressing more and more on your bladder as they descend down, your bladder's like just went pee? better pee again! During one of those bathroom trips, Rachel said she saw a change in me mid-contraction and suggested Phil call the OB to let them know we were heading to the hospital. At first I was hesitant, since I felt so calm and peaceful at home, I didn't want to leave yet. But a few more contractions later and I knew that we'd better head out since I wasn't prepared to have this baby at home.

From what I was told after, Phil drove about 60mph to the hospital on our windy back roads in small town NY. Apparently he was worried I'd have the baby in the car. I was pretty zoned out so there are details I don't remember simply because I was tuned into my Hypnobabies. I sat in the back seat, leaning over my birthing ball and bracing myself against both head rests so I didn't fall over. I had two contractions on the way there but the 10-minute drive is pretty blurry at this point.

We arrived around 1:30p and Phil carried everything but the kitchen sink in one trip while Rachel helped me through my contractions on the walk up to the birthing unit of the hospital. Again, I was told all of this afterward. I know there was someone in the elevator on our way up, but I couldn't tell you what he or she looked like or what was said on the trip up. We got to our room and the nurses put the monitor on my belly so we could hear the beautiful heartbeat of little miss. The OB had not yet arrived, so one of the nurses checked me and said I was 7cm.

I spent the next bit of time sitting on my birthing ball beside the bed, leaning into Phil's lap. After another check determining I was about 7-8cm, my contractions started coming very frequently and more intense. I stood up through most of them, leaning into Phil, while Rachel did acupressure on my back through each contraction. At some point, I know the contractions changed and I felt the urge to push. There was only one nurse in the room at the time, so Rachel mentioned that she should probably go grab someone since she could tell I was getting close to pushing. Three more nurses came in and suddenly I felt my water break while standing up beside the bed. The nurses quickly had me climb up onto the bed and somehow I managed to get on my back. With two or three pushes, her little head came out (thanks to Judah and his much larger head for paving the way for miss Willow. Ha! Two hours of pushing with Judah was a far cry from pushing this little one out). The nurses told me I had to push the baby out with the next push since her head was already out. So with the next push, out she came. I saw her land on the bed as the nurses rubbed her little back to pink her up. They put her on my chest and, just like that, the OB missed her delivery. I am so grateful to the wonderful nurses at the hospital who did a fabulous job delivering our girl. The OB arrived shortly after Willow's arrival, so the nurses waited for her to come in and deliver the placenta, and then Phil cut the cord. With Willow on my chest, they could've been cooking a four course meal in the room; all I cared about was this tiny little babe that we had waited so long to meet, and now she was here. She looked up at me, gave a tiny little cry, latched on to nurse and we begun the beginning of our relationship outside of the womb in a beautiful release of relief and tears.


I am so in awe of birth. I told Rachel that someday I will probably be a Doula myself, so I can experience it from the other perspective too. I'm so grateful to the nurses at our hospital that had complete respect for our birth plan and just let me labor however I was comfortable, until they came in to catch the baby (although I don't think they expected the pushing stage to come up so quickly, or the OB may not have missed the birth!). Phil and Rachel were my power team, coaching me the whole way and helping me stay in a place of calm and peace. To anyone going through birth and delivery -- a Doula is a lifesaver.

I love Judah's birth story. I love Willow's birth story. I love thinking about the very beginning of both of their lives and how they've folded themselves into our family. Willow Jayne, born at 3:20pm June 22nd. 7 lbs, 12 oz; 20 inches. Sweet and delicious. We're so glad you're here.

Month 9

It's the last month people. The home stretch! The magical month 9 (or month 10, whatever, pregnancy is really 10 months, but who's counting?) where time seems to slow down. This entire pregnancy as a whole has gone by really fast. I'm surprised just how much faster it has felt than Judah's did. Then again, I did have a toddler to chase after this time around so I'm sure that helped speed up time.

I'm convinced that pregnancy has a direct correlation associated with it: the better you're feeling, the faster time flies. Once discomfort settles in, all clocks are switched to ones that tick slower and the days sure seem to have a few extra hours added to them.

In all honesty and full disclosure, I've been struggling a lot with guilt during this pregnancy. This little life inside of me is something Phil and I have been praying for for several years. It took a lot out of me emotionally to get to the point of finally seeing two lines on a pregnancy test. Because of that, I've really felt like I have no right to complain about anything while pregnant. Gratefully, I haven't really had much to complain about anyway, as most of my pregnancy has been more than ok and I really have it easy while pregnant compared to some mamas I know and the pregnancies they've experienced. But let's be real, no matter how easy of a pregnancy, the last month is just uncomfortable.There's something about letting yourself experience whatever it is that you're going through for what it is, and not having any expectations of shoulds and should nots. I know that is a LOT easier said than done though. I'm living proof.

I've spent a lot of time processing a whole lot of emotions throughout this pregnancy, most of which I've saved for my private journal and the ears of a select few friends; and I'm trying to just be ok with however I'm feeling now, in this moment.

Pregnancy is beautiful and there have been countless moments where I am in tears over the awe of carrying a life inside of me. But then there are times where it most certainly is not. When every limb is swollen, I'm crying over spilled milk (which literally has happened at least once this pregnancy) and yelling at Judah for something probably meaningless because my patience is something that disappeared right about the time I stopped being able to hold my pee longer than 30 minutes. I'm learning to be ok with myself and how I'm feeling in both situations. This too is a season. Just like the journey of actually getting pregnant was a season. That time was mostly difficult with seasoned peppers of joy, gratitude and grace found throughout. This season is full of gratitude and joy, with some growing pains for our entire family throughout.

I know this precious time of having my baby girl inside of me is coming to an end. This is the last month or so, depending on when she's ready to make her entrance. I am steadied between soaking in the last moments of it just being me and Judah during the day, yet also accepting that some days I just can't wait for bedtime and the day to be done. And both are ok.

I'm so grateful for the grace that abounds in all seasons of life. Grace during the heartbreaking times in the words of an encouraging friend. Grace during the joyous times with reminders that while life is not always hard, it's not always easy breezy either. The good and the bad. The highs and lows. You can't have one without the other. And, despite it all, I know that no one has ever been pregnant forever...have they? ;)

9 months in all its glory

March

So March was a rough month. I think every year, March tricks me. March has the ring of spring to it, yet it's nearly always the month we get the most snow and I get the most sick. This year was no exception. Having evaded sickness all winter long, the cold I caught this month hit me. Hard. Draining me of the already depleted energy that one has during pregnancy, being sick and growing a baby is hard on the body.

Silver lining: It did force me (because I really had no other option) to rest. The kind of rest where most of the day for multiple days in a row are spent either on the couch or in bed. Taking a shower is a win for the day. But it still hung on for over two weeks.

We're all pretty much healthy in our household now and now I'm in my third trimester of pregnancy. Wow. Just like that. I will say that this pregnancy has gone by way faster than Judah's felt. And I am loving it just as much as I loved being pregnant with him (aside from the weeks I was sick...that was... torturous). It's such a special feeling knowing that I'm growing a human inside my body. Feeling her kick makes it that much more real and reminds me that, oh yeah, there's a person in there!

Believe it or not, it still feels surreal sometimes. I'm not sure if that's because of the journey we had to get here and how much time I spent in a place of wondering if I'd ever get to be pregnant again. Or if it's because my mind has been more occupied in different ways than it was during Judah's pregnancy. Maybe a little of both. But her sweet movements and kicks remind me that this is real and I'm so.stinking.grateful.

The other night before bed, Judah wanted to put his hand on my belly to "feel baby girl move." He puts both hands on my belly and I ask, "Do you want to say goodnight?" He responds with, "Goodnight, I love you!" to my belly. It doesn't take much to make me cry these days and that definitely did me in. I am so excited to see Judah as a big brother. I know we'll have our own transitions to overcome, all of us, but I know he's going to love this little girl fiercely and protectively because that's who he is. It's amazing how a heart that has been broken and aching can feel so full and overflowing. The very same heart. The human body is one amazing tool. Way to go God.

As the weather hopefully catches up to a calendar that claims it is spring, I am stilled with excitement. Just about twelve weeks left and then we'll be a family of four! Baby girl, you are so loved. So very, very loved.

Present moment

Judah's new question of the day is: so has the baby arrived? I've been reading him books about being a big brother, mommy's growing belly, and other themed books around our growing family. I know his full understanding won't come until the baby is actually here, and never leaves, but it's fun to see his brain try to wrap itself around this concept of a little sister. How'd the baby get in there? How's it going to get out? What's a birth canal? (trying explaining that to a 3 year old..ha!) It's a precious time to see his brain try and comprehend a concept that I'm explaining to him, yet he cannot see. Here I am telling him there's a baby in mommy's belly, but he can't see it. Yet he trusts me. My son is constantly teaching me lessons about faith, grace and love each and every day.

The other day I took down the girl clothes that we do have from hand-me-downs in the attic. I started sorting through and pulling out the smallest sizes. My eyes welled as I'm filled with unimaginable gratitude that I get to hold another life inside of me. Seeing how tiny the clothes are, Judah's look like man clothes in comparison! It's fun to take small steps in getting the nursery together. Even though I know that she won't even use the majority of the items for months and months, it doesn't stop my excitement to see it come together. This season of life is so full.

The theme of seasons in life keeps coming up. The church we go to had a wonderful series a few months ago titled Seasons that discussed how each one brings different challenges and hope into our life. This church has been a beacon of hope and a rock of comfort since we started attending in 2012. Little had I known what God had in store for us. I look back over the last few years, since we started attending the campus local to us, and I can see God's footprint all over the people and opportunities he placed in our life to help us through the past rough season of our lives. I am so humbled and thankful for God's grace and mercy.

I've never been good at living in the moment but I think becoming a mom has helped that to a point. I don't mind the passing of time as much and I really appreciate that life changes because it can be really hard. But then, it can also be really good. In this present season of my life, I'm really trying to soak in each and every day for what it is. As winter turns into spring, I can see that it would be harder to appreciate the warmth of the sun and the scent of the flowers if we hadn't weathered through the harsh, cold months prior. It doesn't make the winter any less cold, but it does provide a hope of change and warmer months to come.

What got me here.

I lay down in bed after a full day and my hand instinctively goes to my stomach. Like many of us, I assume, the precious moments before I fall asleep are filled with reflection, gratitude and prayer. Please God, keep this baby safe. My hand clings to my stomach in the hopes that my baby can feel the warmth and love coming through my hand to their teeny body. My body tosses and turns in bed. The very same bed that cradled me over the past few years as I wept, curled up in a ball, unsure if I had any more tears left to shed...yet there they were. The countless months of hoping maybe..? only to be drowned in a flood of disappointment.

"We're not sure why this isn't happening for you both. You're both healthy and none of the tests show any issues." News that gave us equal parts of relief and frustration. That brought us right back to pleading with God...why? I'm not here because I have the answer. I don't, and maybe I never will until I can ask God himself when we meet. Instead, I feel compelled to write about the mercy and greatness of a God who still met me in the midst of bitterness, anger and a whole lot of questions.

As I opened up this website to start a new blog, I came across many, many drafts that I started over the last few years, but never finished or published. Every time I sat down to try and write about the pain we were facing, the words felt stale. A voice always prodded yes, but...don't you have enough to be thankful for? I am by no means a writer, but I understand the feeling of when the words come to you, and when they don't. I never felt like I could fully grasp the depth of everything I was going through and how could my heart be equally full of joy and gratitude for what I do have, yet empty and broken for the yearning to grow our family?

Instead, my close friends became my outlet, my lifeline. I am in awe of a God who knows what we need, when we need it. Who knew the people I would need in my life for weathering the seasons. I think of my dear friend who remembered the key days of the month and reached out every.single.month on that day to see how I was doing. That same friend who now is as equally excited as I am for my weekly growing bump pictures and reminds me about them the day before. I think of another dear friend who, having weathered this storm herself years before, cried with me through hours of talks and encouragement saying that it is in God's timing. A very true statement, even if I didn't want to hear it at the time. (But why doesn't God's timing add up with MY timing? Anyone?) A sister who could tell I wasn't doing well with one look in my eye and gathered me up in a hug so I could cry. Another who cried tears of joy with me over the phone when I told her our journey had ended with a positive test. And of course, a husband who walked through each and every step with me. Climbing the hills, and bearing the valleys together. A husband who picked up so many extra pieces that he deserves an award. But he'd be too humble to accept it.

I think back over this past season of life with tears in my eyes, but different tears now. Tears of humility toward a God that was right there next to me the entire time, even if I felt like he was far away some days. He was right there with a hug from a friend, a word of encouragement, a loving glance. I am so humbled by the fact that even through all the anger, most of it directed at him, God still reached down and breathed the life of a miracle that I wasn't sure I'd ever experience again.

It's funny how our plans so often differ from reality. How many of us can say that the life we expected, the life we hoped and dreamed for as kids and now as adults happened exactly how we thought it would? I would guess that answer is slim to none. I will never understand tragedy. I will never understand why people suffer in the way they do, through loss, disappointment, heartache, other than knowing that we live in a broken world. The exact explanations of each situation will always elude me, but I do know that I serve a God who loves me unconditionally, despite all my faults (and there's a long list of 'em). Through the lowest of lows, knowing that God is with me is my saving grace. My rock.

Maybe I will be able to use this experience to help someone else going through something similar. Maybe this was so that I could relate to someone who needs some encouragement, much like my dear friends provide me. Or maybe we just weren't supposed to have our kids as close together as I'd hoped.

I think about what it will be like to become a family of four. One thing I can say for certainty is I have no fear of not loving this baby as much as Judah; that ship has sailed my friends. This baby already has my heart as much as Judah does. But I think about how he'll be as a brother, how this pregnancy is different and how it feels the same as when Judah was in there. Thoughts I wasn't sure I'd be able to have again, yet there they are. It's funny how life works. The rough parts break you down and beat you up, yet we keep going. The joys fill our hearts so much that we don't think we can possibly feel any more love, yet our hearts find room to keep growing.

Today I am hoping that wherever you are in your journey of life, that you know you are loved. Through both the lowest of lows and the highest of highs, you are loved.

We The People

It's been hard for me to formulate the right words to express how I've felt over this election period. Horrified. Surprised. Worried. Sad. The words don't seem to hold enough depth to describe what is happening in our country right now.

Above who was elected and who wasn't and above the absolute tragedy that were both "campaigns," if you can even call them that, is the heartbreaking hatred that has sprung up as a result of election day. My heart breaks. My heart breaks for those who are being targeted with hate. My heart breaks for those people's parents. You guys. We are all people. It doesn't matter what you look like. What you believe. Who you love. Where you live. What your title is. We, you, I are all human beings seeking love, acceptance and freedom.

My heart is broken that I don't have the words to explain to my son. He is not yet two, so he doesn't understand, I know...but he will someday. I will teach him with fervor that women are to be valued, respected, loved. That every race is an example of how creative God is and how he celebrates that we are not all the same. Each of us is an individual. That when someone disagrees with you, it's a reminder that God gave us free will and he allows us to exercise that free will.

 All I can do is pray. Its what I've been doing since this election began. No matter who our president is, he or she needs prayer for every decision they will make.

My hope, my prayer is to teach Judah to be part of the solution and to never contribute to the hate. And to never lose hope. To never lose hope in humanity. If Jesus could never lose hope in us, I sure don't want to either. I know we can move forward. I know we can press on past the darkness. We are so much more than who is or isn't leading our country. We the People. We create, innovate, heal, learn, birth, love...we are so much more than what is being highlighted in the media right now. God created us for GREATNESS. So spread greatness.