The Farm, The Clot, and The Due Date.

Before I was ready to have children, I watched "The Business of Being Born," a fascinating documentary about the medicalization of birth in this country. Ina May Gaskin, legendary midwife, was in this film, sharing her experiences with natural birth in her community, dubbed "The Farm." This community was founded in the 70's by a group of cross-country-caravaning-hippies from the Haight-Ashbury district in San Francisco. The Farm is much less populated today, but people still travel from across the country to see it, mainly because of the midwives. While the United States has a 30-35% c-section rate, The Farm has less than 2%. They have helped women birth over 2,000 babies in their 40 years of existence. The statistics are quite impressive.

I have been wanting to go to "The Farm" since the day I found out I was pregnant. I had dreams of visiting Ina May, her community, and having one last road trip with George. After a garage sale, penny-pinching, and random blessings falling into our lap, we were able to make the roadtrip happen. 

We left at 5:30 in the morning last Tuesday, and arrived that evening. Sweet George didn't even sleep until we were in the car...he worked until late Monday night, then when he got home, tidied up the place and packed. He's been exerting so much energy both at work and at home lately. He really sacrificed a lot to make this trip happen for us, even though it was mainly my prerogative to abandon responsibility for a few days and take a road-trip to Tennessee. 

I really loved driving east into the sunrise on Tuesday, and driving west into the sunset on Thursday. I turned my phone on Airplane Mode, and used the map I printed off prior to leaving. I had a playlist ready to go. I had been looking forward to this trip, unsure if we were even going to be able to pull it off, for months. The music in the speakers, combined with the sunrise ahead of me and my sleeping man beside me, brought tears to my eyes. After being on a stretch of highway for a while, and right as the sky was beginning to light up on the horizon, Animal Collective's, "What Would I Want? Sky" song came on. Sometimes, I feel like I'm in a movie, and the music playing at a particular moment is the most intricately selected soundtrack. This was one of those times.

Immediately after that song was "When You Come Back Down" by Nickel Creek. My dad wrote out the lyrics to this song in a letter to me, on the day I moved into my dorm. The lyrics put a lump in my throat everytime I hear them. This trip was no different. "You gotta leave me now, you gotta go alone, you gotta chase a dream, one that's all your own, before it slips away... When you're flying high, take my heart along, I'll be the harmony to every lonely song that you learn to play... When you're soaring through the air, I'll be your solid ground, take every chance you dare, I'll still be there, when you come back down. When you come back down." During this song, I began sobbing, feeling an intense array of emotions. Finally going to a place I've yearned to see. Having a dream literally come true. Knowing that when the trip was over, we were going to move in with my parents, and have our own little baby. Grateful for George, working to make this trip happen because he knew how much it meant to me. Grateful to my parents for keeping their opinions about this trip to themselves and allowing me, even as a grown woman, to learn my own lessons. 

*(Sidenote, little did I know, I was going to come back down. Two days later. To his and my mom's house, then to the emergency clinic, with a bloodclot in my right leg.)

"Orange Sky" by Alexi Murdoch was the next song, and that was literally when the sunglasses went on. The sunrays were bright, and I was driving straight into them. The summation of perfect songs and a rising sun was transcendent. George woke up shortly after, and we continued to drive through Arkansas.

We saw signs for President Bill Clinton's childhood home, and decided to stop and check it out. Maybe it's because we are desperately wanting a home to call our own, or maybe because we both are huge fans of Bill Clinton, but regardless, we loved that place.

His childhood bedroom

My favorite part of road-tripping is stopping randomly after seeing a sign for something (could be interesting/funny/random), and experiencing something locally, without a plan to do so. 

We got back in the car and kept on driving to Tennessee. 

Many hours, bathroom breaks, and windy country roads later, I slammed on my breaks and then reversed a few feet. The entrance to The Farm was so rural, so small, and so NOT advertised...I ALMOST PASSED BY!

"Tuesday's Gone," by Lynyrd Skynyrd, began pouring out through the speakers while the wind was pouring in the open sunroof. That moment was surreal. There was a big yard with a TON of roosters and chickens in many cages to the right. To the left was the Welcome Center of The Farm. There was also a warning that the cages to the right did NOT belong to The Farm, and a word of caution to stay away...that they would call the police. We heard a gunshot right after reading the notice! We laughed, got back in the car, and continued down the windy roads. It was awesome driving down the road into the community knowing that the roads, the land, the houses, the water towers...EVERYTHING here was made BY these people, FOR these people. 

Finally Made It!!!!!

Sweet little accents made our accommodation feel enchanting and welcoming.

We stayed at a woman named Linda's house. She rents out the lower level.

We unpacked our groceries, I made dinner (another huge perk, staying here meant a refrigerator, stove, and oven, so we were able to bring and eat our own food, saving us money, and keeping us healthy), and then we spent a lot of time unwinding, stretching, and relaxing. 

The next morning, I woke up shortly after the sun started coming through the window. There are few better things in life than waking up to sounds/sights of nature, rather than an alarm clock (or soon to be crying baby). I let George sleep, had some tea and cottage cheese, and read some Ina May (the inspiration for the trip in the first place).

We then went to our prenatal appointment. We waited for a bit in the waiting room, and met a nice couple from Alabama. Apparently, home births are ILLEGAL in Alabama?! Weird. So this couple came to Tennessee for all of their prenatal visits, and plan on delivering at The Farm. They were very friendly. While we were waiting to see Pamela, we looked around at the books, brochures, and general decor. We were totally diggin' the tie-dye hippie vibe, with the professional material and undeniable statistics. 

Not long after, we got to meet with Pamela. She is an absolute delight. So calm, so pleasant, and so naturally in her element as a Farm Midwife. She was also in the documentary I was obsessed with, and I read about her a lot in "Spiritual Midwifery," one of Ina May Gaskin's books. I read that as a teen, she was unfamiliar with midwifery (other than what her minister had explained to her), and very involved in her youth group. She strongly valued hard work, God, and family. Her parents sent her to San Francisco in 1965. She describes her experience, "There were hippies with flowers in their hair everywhere. They looked pretty and had fun and seemed to share a lot of the same ideals that were strong in my mind, so I became a hippy, too." (Pamela's Bio) Her story is so inspiring.

I instantly felt comfortable with her. We told her why we wanted to come, and she tested my urine, measured my fundal height, told me the position of the baby (head down, yay!!!), and listened to the heartbeat with the doppler. She measured me at 36 weeks, and told me I looked 'very pregnant,' more so than the 33 weeks I thought to be. We tried to figure out my due date based on my last cycle, but I just can't remember when that was. My original sonogram due date was 5/4, and it was 5/5 at 20 weeks. Based on when we think Sprout was conceived and my fundal height, things were starting to look more like end of April.

(Thanks to George for all these great shots!!! I loved my visit with Pamela!!!)

Later that day, I explored some more of the community. It was surprisingly quiet. I caught a sweet girl off-guard when I entered the "Eco-Village." Turns out, she's the "Winter Keeper" and the only girl living in this part of The Farm right now. I probably scared her to death! I asked her if I could look around, and take pictures, and she was very sweet and welcoming. We ended up talking for a while and became friends. Then she went on about her day, and I went on about exploring.

"The Wholeo" Stained Glass Globe

The next morning, George and I packed up and began driving back home. We wanted to take a more scenic route, and go through a few states we'd never seen. We went through Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana. We stopped in Tupelo, MS and got some Tupelo Honey. This was the last song we danced to at our wedding, so that was a fun and meaningful souvenir. We ate at a fun local diner, with pictures of Elvis everywhere.  We stopped a lot, actually. I drank so much water, and went to the bathroom often. I made sure to stretch my legs at each stop. 

I specify, because the next day (Friday), I was shocked I had developed a bloodclot in my right leg. 

I was shocked because:

(a) I'm generally very healthy. I've never had surgery, never been admitted to a hospital,

and

(b) I put forth so much effort in PREVENTING the bloodclot. I felt like most people wouldn't have been as conscientious stopping, stretching, heel-pumping, and water-gulping. 

But I had an epiphany, and it was indeed a great learning moment for me.

In order to "surprisingly" find out you're pregnant, you ARE healthy. 

And I know that the three BIGGEST risk factors for developing a blood clot are pregnancy (estrogen makes you clot...another risk factor is being on birth control), travel, and smoking. I don't smoke, but I had 2 of the 3 on board. I was in the car 12 hours on Tuesday, and 14 on Thursday. Getting the bloodclot didn't mean I wasn't healthy...it affirmed that I AM healthy enough to get pregnant, and I am NOT invincible to risk. 

I felt a pain in my right calf Friday morning. I went to my mom and dad's, and enjoyed coffee on the patio with my mom and sister. I told them about the pain, but as a few hours went by, I became more obsessive about it. I called my midwife, and she was out of town (bummer!!!!!!!), but the OBGYN on call told me to take an aspirin a day for a week.

What?!

My gut told me to go to the emergency clinic by their house. It would be $150 which would set us back financially, but I knew that if it was a clot, it could be lethal. I knew the exact test I needed, an ultrasound of my right leg, to determine if there was or was not a clot. If there wasn't a clot, it would be an expensive cost for peace of mind, but worth it.

After the ultrasound, the ER doc came in the room and told me it was a DVT, and I was being admitted to the hospital I plan to deliver. I was surprisingly happy at first, because I had a gut feeling and I listened to it, and I was right! But then I realized the severity of the situation, and became more concerned.

WTF 

There was a lot of miscommunication at the hospital. Another lesson I learned? YOU HAVE TO BE YOUR OWN ADVOCATE. Speak up. At all times. Otherwise you will end up paying more money... (I almost had to go to the ER at Lewisville Medical, but I insisted the emergency clinic had called ahead with a room for me as  a direct-admit. Had I not been insistent about this, I would have had to pay that $150 ER fee twice!!!)... and could potentially receive improper medical treatment.

The internist almost hung a bag of Heparin on my IV (the strongest anti-coagulant I'm aware of). Keep in mind I haven't had an ASPIRIN in 8 months for fear of what it would do to the baby. So this seemed very extreme, but I also thought at this point that I could die, and that was the main priority.

The radiologist had a different diagnosis than the ER doctor, and it turned out to work in my favor. The clot was superficial, not deep, so I didn't have to have the Heparin. I received a total of (3) Lovenox (blood thinning) shots. The next morning, they did a scan on both legs, and the clot was gone. The pain was gone, too. They also did continuous fetal monitoring and an ultrasound. Baby checked out good.

She did, however, measure at 5.5 pounds, and 35 weeks (instead of the 33 I thought I was). That meant if I went to 40 weeks exactly, the due date would be 4/20 instead of 5/5. I looked at a calendar, and there is a full moon on 4/25, so THAT IS MY OFFICIAL GUESS. April 25, still a Taurus, 10 days ahead of what we planned, and 1 month from now. 

So there it is. A super long blog post with a title reminiscent of "The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe." The Farm was my Aslan, The Clot was my White Witch, and Sprout's Due Date is the Wardrobe. I can't believe I'm about to cross over into parenthood. I'm grateful for our last pre-baby adventure, even with the clot. I learned a lot. I was afraid my mom was going to say "I told you that trip wasn't a good idea!" but she didn't. She said something to the extent of, "The insistent part of you that listened to your heart and brought you out on that trip, was the same part of you that listened to your gut and got you to the hospital." She was proud of me for going with my instincts. 

I've heard instincts improve drastically with motherhood. 

Maybe I'm well on my way. 

xoxo,

L

The Honeymoon.

After George proposed (you can read about the proposal here), wedding planning kicked in. I blogged a couple of times about the process (you can catch up here), but have been really busy since November 18th! Planning the "wedding of my dreams" was time consuming, and planning a honeymoon wasn't on the radar.

However, last June, the two of us went on a roadtrip (you can read about the "Great Adventure" here). We turned off our phones, bought a map, and had 5 days or so of freedom. We weren't sure where we were going (although we knew Marfa was going to be a goal! We wanted to see those lights....and we did!), and we weren't sure where we were staying, but that was going to be part of the fun. I thought back on the trip, and how much I completely enjoyed myself, and thought something similar would be fabulous for a honeymoon. Due to the generosity of our family and friends, we were able to use the same concept, only bigger scale. We planned more this time...we bought plane tickets to San Francisco, plane tickets back to DFW from Seattle, and we booked about 4 different hotels. We left gaps in between, which gave us some more freedom in between pitstops. We knew we could take advantage of public transportation in San Fran, so we booked the rental car on our way out. 

After the best day of my life (which I think I will refer to my wedding day as, indefinitely...), March 24, we had about 24 hours to pack up George's apartment in a storage unit, pack our bags, and board a plane. And so begins a picture-book story (online version) of our trip.

Because part of me is Type A, I assembled a book with our reservations and passport/birth certificate.

George, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, checking us in at DFW. Keep in mind we have not slept in over 24 hours; I think he looks great! :)

En route to Phoenix for our layover, I was too excited to sleep, George made himself comfortable on my shoulder. After arriving in Phoenix, we made use of our time by ordering drinks. At 7:44 AM. We then flew to San Fran, and started our adventure.

DAY ONE.

Checked in to the unbelievable HOTEL MAJESTIC. I would strongly recommend this hotel to anybody. Charming, over 100 years old, and luxurious. We stayed in a "haunted" room, but we didn't see, hear, or feel a presence. This was the view from the bed, looking into the living area, and the beautiful bay window overlooking the streets of San Fran, near Fisherman's Wharf.

We had affirming signs everywhere! Right when we checked in, we noticed the Butterfly Lounge to the left of the check-in desk. If you didn't already know, I've been drawn to the butterfly since I was in 6th grade, and collect butterflies and butterfly images. This lounge is the home of the largest collection of butterflies NOT in a museum. How cool! We didn't even know until we got there.

Hotel Majestic kindly left an ice bucket with champagne in our room. We had a toast before meeting my friend Katie at a nearby bar.

We got to meet up with my "Library Big," or my favorite co-worker who taught me the ropes at the bar in Norman. Katie is doing well in San Francisco! She is working for a gym and looks amazing herself. We had Irish Car Bombs for old time's sake. Katie, if you're reading this, thank you for making our trip EXTRA special with your presents. We love you! And whenever you're out this way, give me a call!

DAY TWO.

This breakfast was so good, I ate it two days in a row. Hotel Majestic's Spinach Omelette, Hash Browns, Mimosa, Coffee. Sourdough Toast. To die for!!!!!!!

Daddy called this gem of a restaurant and pre-paid for our lunch. The location is PRIME. The food is DELICIOUS. And the service was AMAZING! This was definitely one of our favorite meals. Thanks so much, Daddy!

Our "Newlywed Cheesecake" and coffee to warm our bones at Scoma's!!!

Then, thanks to a recommendation from Rachel and Ryan, we went to the Musee Mecanique, or the mechanical museum. This was free, and really fun. We explored all over Pier 45 and Pier 39. 

We spent a few days in San Fran and got to see Haight-Ashbury...

...and the Aquarium of the Bay...

...had an amazing meal compliments of the Naslund's at E&O Trading Company (the decor was unbelievable)...

...and on the third day...

...we finally got our RENTAL CAR! We don't have pics, but the first stop we made was to see Bill Graham's tombstone. He's a major influence in George's life. We found it, and George left him a yellow rose, symbolizing some Texas love. It was really beautiful. And quiet. And I knew it meant a lot to him. We then traveled on to the Muir Woods! 

We had our first little squabble as a married couple at Muir Woods. But the size of the trees made the argument seem really small. I realize how corny that sounds. But it doesn't make it any less true. 

After Muir Woods, we knew we were heading North. We hopped on Highway 101 and started making our way up the California coast. There were few items on our Roadtrip Bingo cards (thanks, Mommy!)...mainly trees. Once we hit the Avenue of the Giants, we were in another world. This was one of the highlights on the trip, for sure.

After seeing sights as gorgeous as these, and finally seeing the coast for the first time, we had to get out. George insisted on dipping his feet in; I was freezing and wasn't so sure. But he convinced me. We took off our shoes and ran in the ocean. After getting sandy-feet-syndrome, we rinsed our feet with freezing cold water, dried them with t-shirts in the trunk, and decided this was as good a place as any to stay. It was quiet, beautiful, and had some character.

Our first glance at the coast after driving through the Avenue of the Giants. Stinson Beach.

We ate at this darling cafe. The windows overlooked the gargantuan waves. There was a fireplace beside us. We sipped our wine slow, and ate fish fresh off the coast. This was one of my favorite memories, for sure. The clouds just hovered over the cliffs; it truly felt like we were in heaven. 

After knocking on a couple of doors, we found shelter at the Stinson Beach Redwoods Haus Inn. With the succulent garden patio and the butterfly pillows, we knew we were in the right place. 

I slept like a rock in our cozy little room. The decor was all straight from the late 70's, and our bed was carved out of wood, with a mirror as the headboard. We woke up early, sipped coffee on the succulent garden patio, had some home-made breakfast, and hit the road again.

It was hard to leave this beautiful beach, but being Napa-bound certainly helped.

We drove for a few hours, and had to decide between Napa and Sonoma. We thought as our first time, Napa would be a better experience. 

We went to the Black Stallion vineyard and had a delicious and romantic wine tasting.

The vineyards are absolutely breathtaking!

Thanks to Leslie's recommendation, we also stopped by a place called Brix. What an amazing restaurant! And what an amazing experience. 

While at Brix, we met a man named Abi. He is from Zimbabwe, and is a practicing physician. He comes to Napa weekly, and after a hard day's work, stops by Brix for a glass of champagne to "celebrate life." We spoke to this man for a while at the bar, and I truly felt like my life had changed after talking to him!!! I swear he was an angel or something. We talked about love, marriage, life, and philosophy, for a while. He bought us champagne, and we toasted to life. We were again, positive we were in the right place at the right time.

To life. Cheers.

Everybody in Napa told us to stay the night there; that it wouldn't be possible to make it to Crescent City that night. Because of our impromptu stay in Stinson Beach, I felt like we really needed to make up some time. George drove for hours. I slept a good bit of the night. I think we ended up in Eureka, but I'm not sure. I know he drove a long time in the dark, like a champ. We stayed at a Best Western or something, and hit the road again in the morning. Portland-bound!!!!

We were lucky enough to drive through Humboldt County. Another dense forest. This was the epitome of the perfect roadtrip. My passenger window was far more entertaining than any TV show I've ever seen!

We took every "Scenic Route" possible. That was the POINT.
And I'm so glad we did.

On our way to Portland, little waterfalls, big waterfalls, small streams, and massive rivers, ran beside us. The misty clouds were heavy and right above us the entire drive. It was an absolutely rich forest. From the water to the trees, everything felt so alive. Including me.

I'd hoped for a rainbow with all the rain. And what do you know?

We made it to Portland. In Oregon, you can't pump your own gas. Which is actually, kind of fun...

We checked into a McMenamins, thanks to a recommendation from Dr. Davis. We felt a little dumb, because this McMenamins was more of a bar-scene, less of a hotel-scene. I guess they have rooms upstairs above the bar for people who get too intoxicated to make it home...we were the only ones with "reservations" and the girl/hostess looked at us like we were from another planet when we were "checking in." I had my itinerary and everything. Thank God George told me to leave my rolling luggage in the car. 

Hahahaha. We had a beer and made our way upstairs.

McMenamins is communal style, so inside our tiny bedroom we had a bed and a sink. And that's it! There are two toilets and a shower that everybody uses down the hall. It was a fun experience, and helped out financially. 

This was opposite the john in the communal bathroom. Definitely an interesting place! Lots of character...

...but we were ready to get out of Portland. Too many hipsters. We loaded up on coffee at a diner and trekked up north toward Seattle.

And if we didn't find the most ADORABLE little inn!!!! This place was so charming!!! We stayed here 3 nights.

The Space Needle!!!!!!

  

We saw the Experience Music Project, or EMP, another great recommendation from Dr. Davis!!! This display of instruments was two stories tall, and twisted like a tornado. Unbelievable!

We checked out both the Jimi Hendrix exhibit, and the Nirvana exhibit. I learned a lot at the EMP!

This is a community-involved map of bands. The lines represent times when different band members have collaborated with other bands. This visual display shows how rich the Northwest is in terms of underground music. Look at those names! And they're all connected. How cool.

Everywhere we went, we got to throw around the term "honeymoon," "husband," "wife," etc...and just that alone was really fun. "My husband is meeting me here; he'll have a local Amber and I'll take a gin and tonic." What a fun phrase. 

We had some hiccups along the way, which is to be expected when half the trip isn't planned. This is George in one of those "hiccup" instances. I find taking pictures even when he's angry, helps to dissipate the tension. We end up laughing at ourselves...

...or making ourselves comfortable on a random island (Bainbridge) and having drinks all day long in lieu of catching the ferry on time to Victoria...

We made friends everywhere we went. This is a guy named David. Moved from Hawaii....helping his grandmother move into a retirement center...we had drinks and a long walk with David. It is mind-blowing how many commonalities we have with complete strangers; all it takes is the time to get to know them. Usually, time is what we are lacking in our daily lives; not the desire to make friends! With ample time thanks to missing the Victoria Clipper Ferry, we were able to relax, unwind, and meet good 'ol Dave.

I also made friends with these guys after sipping some tea by my lonesome at a cafe. George went to a bar; I went shopping, and then needed a warm drink. I heard some music from across the road and walked over, plopped down, and had a great time.
(Bainbridge Island, Washington)

We stayed the night in Bainbridge, then took the ferry back to Seattle. We tried again for the Victoria Clipper, and weren't able to board because of a passport issue. We then had a free day in Seattle. In hindsight, everything happened exactly the way it was supposed to. Plus, now, I get to take another trip out to Victoria on a weekend when the Butchart Gardens are even more beautiful! Win-Win!

Of course, I had to stop by the ORIGINAL Starbucks! And get my usual Grande Coffee, Soy Milk, 2-Pump Sugar-Free Cinnamon Dolce. It was delicious.

We walked around Pike's Place Market, and had a leisurely day. 

 Local, fresh, delicious. Just how food is intended to be. 

We even had time to go bowling...and this bowling alley was an absolute blast. We had an amazing waitress bringing us drinks and fried raviolis, and the tunes overhead were, I swear, from some of my iPod playlists. I busted out some granny-style moves, and was actually winning for a brief period of time.

Because we have a tendency to be young at heart, we played on the playground and made the best of our last day in Seattle. I swear if I'd known George as a little kid, we would've been friends then, too. He had so much fun bouncing on this floor covering after the rain. It felt like we were wearing moonboots. Then, we went back to the 11th Ave. Inn, and watched Wonder Years on the iPad as we drifted off to sleep. Our alarm went off at 4:45, and we called a cab to take us to the airport. 

We made our way through security one last time...then landed safely back in Dallas. Daddy picked us up, we caught up with my parents over some delicious Carmine's pizza and wine, then got settled in our apartment. As husband and wife. It was really an amazing adventure.