Family Archives - More than Rubies

Evangeline “Bearer of Good News”

on June 1, 2017 by JennieRippey in Family, Uncategorized

Evangeline’s birth story begins long before labor did, that’s for sure. It’s an emotional and spiritual story for me to tell and I’m not even sure how to do it or where to start. But just know, this is more than a birth story. {Disclaimer: this story is filled with all the details – especially spiritually and biologically – so if you don’t want to hear about Jesus and my cervix, please move right along}

When we got our positive pregnancy test in September of last year, I was elated! With my other pregnancies, having a person growing in my womb has brought me so much peace and so much connection with my Creator. As you probably know, we had just moved to Texas and bought our first house and we had gone through a very trying time, and I thought this pregnancy was a reminder that God had not forgotten us and our life was continuing as planned. As you also probably know, I have experienced postpartum depression and anxiety after some of the kids. But this pregnancy would be the first time I experienced depression during a pregnancy.

The Birth Plan

Since our homebirth experience with Ben was so wonderful, we had intended to go that route again. At 6 weeks, I began interviewing midwives and learned very quickly that I didn’t have a lot of options unless I wanted to drive into downtown Austin for prenatal appointments (which is about 45 minutes). Most of the interviews went well but for some reason I found myself defensive and in tears during them. I had exhausted my list, and I couldn’t make a decision. For 6 more weeks, I sat and thought and could not have peace, unlike choosing our previous midwife (we walked out of her office saying “she’s the one”). Scott thought maybe the unrest was due to our house. We have had major buyer’s remorse since our purchase and we’ve had no problem finding things we hated about it. We also were slowly purchasing furniture and making the home ours, but had yet to do our bedroom, so the thought of giving birth on my mattress on the floor, in a place where I wasn’t at peace, wasn’t appealing to me. I decided that I would just find an OB that our insurance covered and start my prenatal care and then I would transfer once I came to a decision.

I Googled “best OB for natural birth in Austin area” and the tremendous response was this practice run by an OB but also offering midwifery care. I quickly discovered that they were very natural birth minded, in fact, so much that they had their own free-standing birth center right across the street from one of the best natural birth friendly hospitals in the area (surprisingly Austin-area hospitals haven’t quite jumped on the “crunchy” bandwagon that Austin boasts). We also found out that our insurance covered this birth center, which would save us thousands of dollars versus paying cash for a home birth. After much deliberation, we decided that having a birth center birth was worth the savings, and the peace of mind, that we weren’t having with the home birth plan. We convinced the kids that they would still be able to attend, and then moved on with that plan.

I went about prenatal care with a very “let’s just get these appointments over with” attitude since the practice was run similar to an OB office (short visits in a doctor’s office), versus a home birth midwife (long personal visits in a comfortable environment). Thankfully, the office was very accepting of all of my preferences and I never had to argue for the freedom to make my own choices about prenatal care. Everything was going great, pregnancy wise, but I was still feeling a little depression and on top of it still coming to terms with our choice to not have a home birth.

I want to be sure to add this next part in, because I had someone tell me when I shared “Oh I’m glad to hear you feel like that sometimes, because it seems like you can handle anything!” So I want to be bold and honest about my struggles so that you can see that although it may seem like I walk through the fire faithfully, there’s a fair amount of push back in my attitude with God sometimes. I was experiencing some major birth anxiety. My births are not easy, and thinking back on them sometimes can be emotionally exhausting. I wondered why I was doing this again. I started hearing all the lies that society (and people) have told me about having a large family. “It’s too hard. Why can’t I be content with the 3 children I have? I must be crazy. How can I do it?” I started regretting this pregnancy. Then of course what followed was immense guilt that I was not anything but blessed by this child forming inside of me. I didn’t want to be pregnant; I didn’t want to give birth; I was just done. I contacted a friend of mine who I knew had hard home birth labors and who also struggled with anxiety over it at times. She encouraged me to go to the Lord with it, so I did.

I prayed and I wrote down scriptures to post to bring me peace. Scott and I read Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth together and we talked about how he could support me. I started to let go of my fears and get excited about the birth and what a special day it would be for our family.

Change of Plans

Around 28 weeks, I began to feel like something was off about the pregnancy. I couldn’t put my finger on it but I just knew something wasn’t right. I wondered if it was her position, as she felt much different than the other three. I mentioned it to a midwife at my next appointment but she assured me everything felt normal. My next visit, the midwife told me that she didn’t think she was feeling a head down position and we did a quick ultrasound and sure enough, I had a head in my rib cage. The midwife assured me that this was very normal in a 4th pregnancy and that she was absolutely sure the baby would flip by my next appointment, which would be 36 weeks. She gave me some Spinning Babies techniques to facilitate room for her to flip. I went home and laid upside down over an ironing board several times a day. I made sure to sit in my “optimal fetal positioning” spots and I tried ice packs and chiropractic and essential oils and lights and singing and all the things. There was just a feeling in my gut though, that she would not flip.

Doing a Spinning Babies position – ironing board on the couch

At my 36 week appointment, sure enough, she was still head up. The birth center would not facilitate a breech delivery and no OBs at the practice would do one in the hospital, so my choices were a c-section, or look all over immediately for a care provider that would. After research and prayer, Scott and I decided that we would choose a c-section. I mourned my birth center delivery and I tried to let go of my birth plan. I made peace with my c-section. Everyone I told had a similar reactions “Oh NO!” “I’ll pray she flips!” and my heart was thinking “It’s cool guys, this is her story.” I have never in my 20 years of following God experienced this peace that surpasses understanding, this overwhelming spiritual comfort.

They told me that if she was still breech at my 37 week visit they would schedule me for an external cephalic version, which means they would manually try to flip baby by pushing her around on top of my uterus. It’s a risky procedure and it’s not comfortable at all, and it is only successful about 40% of the time, so I struggled with whether or not I wanted to try it or just be okay with the c-section. Because of the spiritual peace I felt, I decided that I would go into the version expecting it wouldn’t work but just giving it a shot any way (after having gone through it and seeing the bill for it, I wish I had just gone with my gut and skipped it). After 1 hour of trying to move her, the OB finally said that she wasn’t going to flip and that her butt was firmly stuck in my pelvis. We scheduled a c-section for May 3rd.

Attempting the External Version {we’re laughing but it wasn’t as fun as it looks}

What I felt in my heart had come to pass and I was at peace with it. I was preparing for a c-section birth. We explained it to the kids, who were of course expecting to be at the birth {Matthew said “Um, if you have to have the surgery, can I have a babysitter because I do not want to see that!”}. We bought supplies for a long hospital stay, we researched ways to make the c-section as natural and gentle as possible, we picked a playlist that would allow anyone in the OR to hear our admiration for our Lord even in this situation that we did not choose.

Another change of plans

One Sunday evening, after having a very lazy day, the whole family was in bed doing laundry and watching a movie. I suddenly felt something different and I told Scott “Oh my gosh! I think I can feel her butt! Feel this… a head here and a butt here… right?!” He felt and agreed with me. I did some forward leaning inversions and then I couldn’t feel her any more.

Doing a forward leaning inversion to give her room to flip

I went to sleep and when I woke up I said “I can’t feel her head in my ribs any more… I don’t know what that means, I just know it’s different than it was”. I honestly was torn. It seemed like this is what I should want, but it wasn’t. I immediately went to back to feeling scared of doing the natural labor again. At my 38 week visit they confirmed she was in fact head down. Everyone kept saying “This is great news!” and “Praise the Lord” and “we’re so happy she flipped” and all I could think was “Good for you, but you’re not the one who has to go through the labor…” I felt abandoned by God and I was so confused about how He could give me so much peace and then change the plan again in an instant. I cried for days. I went to Him in prayer and I had a vision of Him and I, we were standing face to face, sort of floating, but His hands were on my face and mine on His and there was blurriness all over but my eyes were locked on His. I said “Lord, this peace! Why did you take it from me?” He said “I didn’t look away, you did.”

It immediately reminded me of Peter walking on water and I went to read that scripture and I realized that I had focused more on the circumstance for peace and when it changed, I moved my eyes off of Jesus. After that, I’ll admit it wasn’t easy but I tried, oh how I tried, to keep my mind focused on the Word and the Truth and not allow fear to make me sink again. Unfortunately, it got more difficult.

Trials

I started to get a round ligament pain, which was excruciating. Sometimes it just sort of burned a bit, sometimes it felt like a *snap* in my groin and I was brought to screaming out in pain. I tried everything I could to ease the pain but nothing worked. I had to sit around with an ice pack on my crotch every day. I could barely move. I cried out to God “Why are you giving me this to bear too?!”

In the midst of all this, they told me that I was GBS positive (a normal bacteria that women sometimes carry in their vaginal tract but would require IV antibiotics at birth to avoid the risk of spreading it to baby… it’s a very small risk, but a risk nonetheless). This was an inconvenience at best because I would have to be sure to get to the birth center at least 4 hours before I gave birth. I also prefer not to take antibiotics (I haven’t had them since my gallbladder surgery 6 years ago and my kids never have). If I declined the antibiotics, I would not be allowed to have the birth center birth and would have a mandatory 48 hour stay in the hospital.

The next thing was the kids all got sick. They woke up with red, gooey eyes and I thought for sure we had a pinkeye outbreak. The stress of thinking about what would happen if I went into labor with kids who had pinkeye made me a crazy person. I yelled at them to take the supplements I had. I yelled that they wouldn’t be able to see her born. I cried and cried at how much I did not want to do this any more. Again, the fear and lies of having 4 small children took over and I believed the world instead of the Word and I was crippled by anxiety and fear. I went to everyone of my appointments hoping they would say she flipped again and I could have my c-section but alas she was head down.

May 3rd came, and I cried and cried. I wanted the c-section. I wanted to be done with this.

Then I got sick. I woke up unable to swallow and I spent two days in bed feeling awful. I prayed I wouldn’t go into labor but at this point I was convinced God was going to make this as hard on me as possible. I flip flopped between anger and peace, trusting and doubting. I was so angry.

41 Weeks

Waiting for Labor to Start

At 41 weeks, they started talking about my options if I went to 42 weeks. 42 weeks is considered post term, so I become “high risk”, and I wouldn’t be able to deliver at the birth center.

Of course, there are a million and one old wives tales about what might trigger labor, but after having 3 babies and being knowledgeable in how birth and bodies work, I knew that none of them are sure fire things, and a lot of them are uncomfortable and stressful. Because I was GBS positive they wouldn’t attempt anything that would spread infection, like membrane sweeps or breaking my water (which I was thankful for and would have declined any way). They gave me the options of having an outpatient foley bulb catheter (a balloon that goes into the cervix and fills up with saline to hopefully manually dilate the cervix to 3 cm) or castor oil (which basically gives you diarrhea hoping that stimulates the uterus to contract). Both have about a 50/50 chance of working. {And yes, we had sex and yes we tried nipple stimulation for oxytocin; but, in order for those things to be effective, they have to be pretty constant, and as fun as that might sound, it’s really not… especially knowing that when you’re done a tiny person is going to come out, wanting to suck on them}

Walked around IKEA at 41w 3d; lots of contractions, no baby

I decided to try acupuncture. I had one session and they told me I needed to come back twice a day for it to work quickly and effectively. While I was sitting in the chair with 100 needles sticking out of my body, I prayed and I kinda felt this nagging question like “are you really trusting God by trying to control this or can you just let go and let God decide?” At that point, I decided that God was sovereign over my body and over human deadlines. He knew that if I didn’t go into labor by Monday than I would have an induction. And He also knew that if He had to use pitocin and policies to get me to surrender to Him, He would.

I came home from that week’s appointment and told Scott I wanted to rest. I had a lot of ligament pain from being out and about and I had cried a bit at the appointment so I was exhausted. I was still coughing from the cold and every time I coughed I either peed my pants a little or pulled my ligament some more. I went straight to bed and laid down and suddenly had excruciating tooth pain. I did some at home treatments and fell asleep. First thing in the morning, I went to a dentist and he told me I needed a root canal. He asked if I could schedule it for that week and I said no, because I would be giving birth. So I left paying $45 co pay for nothing and praying God would keep that pain at bay until after she was born.

Selfie I sent Scott from the dentist chair “Well… I need a root canal. Awesome.”

At my 41-week-3-day appointment I declined their out-of-hospital induction attempts. I told Scott I wanted to spend the weekend having fun, being at peace, and trusting God, not trying a million uncomfortable things and stressing out. I was in enough pain I didn’t want to be having false labor on top of it. I told him to stop asking me if I felt contractions, I’d tell him if I was in labor. We didn’t do much with all the pain I was in, but we made sure to play a lot and spend family time together. We had spent the last few weeks trying to get out of the house, find things to do and make sure the kids weren’t getting too stressed out by all the changing of plans. Matthew was pretty bummed out that the birth center birth was off the table and although he was allowed to come to the hospital he chose not to because he said all the cords and stuff would scare him.

The Last Supper…as a family of 5
We were celebrating, although the kids were sad it meant No to the birth center

The Induction

Monday morning, May 22nd, I woke up 42 weeks pregnant, and knew I would be receiving a call soon to set up an induction plan. I showered and repacked all the bags. I set out stuff for the baby sitter. My phone rang and it was Michelle, the midwife on duty. She asked me to meet her at 11am and she would check my cervix and decide what to do. Scott and I made a list of specific prayers we wanted God to answer. For my cervix to be dilated and effaced quite a bit. For this induction to be quick, hopefully under 12 hours. For the kids to do okay sleeping without us. That if I did still need a c-section for her position, that we would find out sooner than later.

Just waiting… and waiting…

We got to the hospital and my cervix was “1, maybe 2 cm and still thick”. I actually yelled “Noooo!” First prayer, unanswered. She explained my options and all I wanted to do was go home and hope this would all just go away. The disappointment was defeating. I chose to have Cervadil, which is a cervical softener that is inserted vaginally and stays in for 12 hours. I honestly sort of misunderstood at the time and thought it was “maximum” 12 hours and that it was possible to be shorter, but that was not the case. They would come back and check me in 12 hours. In the meantime, I could lay there and do nothing. I cried. For hours. I cried to Scott, I cried to the nurse. I cried to the midwife. I didn’t want to wait 12 hours. I had kids at home. I didn’t want to do this. I wanted the c-section. She told me if I had the c-section I couldn’t go home. I said no, but Scott could. Then I would know they’re okay. And they could come here to visit. And this would be OVER. I was done.

Scott tried, bless his heart, but I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want to pray. I didn’t want to play cards. I didn’t want to listen to music or watch TV. The babysitter told us that Ben didn’t nap and I was worried about bed time as they have never spent the night without us before. At 6pm, Scott decided to go home and check on the kids and get them to bed okay. I was having some contractions, which is normal when they’re messing with your cervix, so while I was alone I tried to focus on the contractions. I told my body to dilate. I asked her to come down. I promised her I would be a good mom, even though everything I’d thought over the past months had said the opposite. I apologized for not being excited about her. I begged God to make my contractions to be effective. I prayed for labor to start. I prayed for it to be over.

Scott came back to the hospital at 11pm, and at 12:30am the midwife came back in to do the 12 hour check. She checked me and said “Great! 3 cm.” I wanted to cry again but I didn’t even have the strength. She told me that my cervix was softened and 50% effaced and that was exactly what we wanted. She said that they would start the Pitocin now, very low, trying to mimic the body’s natural labor course. They would come in every 20-30 min and see how my contractions were and increase the Pitocin by 1 until my contractions became regular. She offered me a sleeping pill and told me it was best if I got some rest. I took the sleeping pill and at 1am they started the Pitocin (and the antibiotics for my GBS).

The Birth Part

I was having contractions in my sleep but I just assumed it was irregular, early labor stuff so I just kept tossing and turning. At 2am, I woke up and the contractions were intense. They didn’t seem regular, they seemed kind of erratic and I assumed it was just intense because of the Pitocin. I took a few contractions still in bed and noticed that the Pitocin was at a 4. I know that 4 is a very very low amount of Pitocin and I knew that this was just the beginning. I had decided earlier that I wanted to try to skip the epidural (I don’t like giving birth when I can’t feel what I’m doing) but if I got too tired I would have the epidural without guilt. I asked Scott to help me to go the bathroom. I had a couple of contractions on the toilet (my favorite place to labor, hurts like hell but really brings the baby down without a lot of physical effort on my part). Since I knew this was early labor, I tried hard to keep my mind under control and focus on the purpose of the contractions and not the intensity. I kept my face relaxed. I groaned low and open. I thought about her moving down.

The nurse must have noticed I was off the fetal monitor and came in. She heard me having contractions in the bathroom and asked if I wanted her to call the midwife. I said yes because I was planning to hear 4cm and request an epidural. She asked if I was feeling pressure and I said yes.

I got off the toilet and asked Scott to bring me my ball. As I was getting on my ball, my hospital gown and the fetal monitor cords were getting all tangled and I was getting frustrated with it all so I ripped the gown off and continued to labor in just my bra. I tried to sit on the ball but it hurt too bad to sit so I tried one leaning over Scott. I remember say “No, that’s no good” and I fell to my knees and leaned over the bed. I had a big contraction and peed all over the floor, which was a huge mess because it’s linoleum. I apologized and had another contraction. More pee. The nurse asked if it was my water, I said I didn’t think so. I had another contraction and then looked up and the midwife was across the bed from me looking at my face. She said “Are you pushing?”

I had felt some definite pushing sensations but I honestly thought I was delusional because there was NO way I was pushing, just two hours after being told I was 3cm. I said “I think so. I think my water broke. Or I peed. I’m not sure.” I had another big contraction and yelled “She’s crowning!”

The midwife walked around the side of the bed and calmly said “Oh, your water is still intact!” Scott got the phone and filmed the next part, which if I hadn’t seen the time stamp saying 1:40 I would never have believed it truly happened that fast. My body took over and I kept pushing. The midwife told me one more big push and as Evangeline was born, fully in the caul, I felt that sudden relief of being done. As soon as her feet were out, the bag of waters broke with a huge splash. I had one tiny little pad they threw under me, but other that that, I sat on the hospital floor and held my baby to my chest. I looked at the midwife and the exact words that came out of my mouth were “Holy hell.” She laughed and said “let’s get you off the floor”.

Just after giving birth on the floor

After Matthew, Charlotte and Ben, I honestly didn’t think there were many other ways to be born.
But with just an hour of active labor, minutes of pushing; born in a rush, on the floor, in the caul (which is 1 in 80,000 babies, by the way), well, Evangeline sure made her impression.

Evangeline Ann

Evangeline means “bearer of Good News” and I’m just positive that she has a special calling on her life. I can’t imagine the joy she will bring to our family over the years, but she will never fully comprehend how her life had already made me surrender and trust God and His goodness more than I ever have. I am digging here for something awesomely spiritual to say that will bring this whole thing together, but honestly I just don’t have it yet. I know that God is good, all the time. And I know that while I suffered, His plan was greater than all of that. I don’t know why we went through such emotional turmoil this pregnancy, but I do know that I have a Creator who loves me and who gave me this sweet girl to be her mother, which is an amazing privilege and calling. When I was praying for a verse for Evangeline, I came to Isaiah 61:1

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor, He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners

And if that isn’t good news, I just don’t know what is.

Evangeline Ann, born May 23rd, 2017; 9 lbs 12 oz, and 22” long

Our precious girl; our whole family prayed for you, waited for you and is already blessed by you. We cannot wait to see who you become and how much GOOD NEWS you bring to us and others who know you.

She has no idea how much these 3 love her. The first thing they said when she was born was “Thank you so much Mommy!”

Celebrating her birth day with a cupcake in the hospital

We’re Moving To Texas, Ya’ll!

on August 18, 2015 by JennieRippey in Family

Part One: The Explanation

That’s right! Our family is leaving sunny San Diego for the wide, open spaces of San Antonio, Texas. We are leaving in just a few weeks and we are busy busy busy packing, selling most of our stuff and saying our goodbyes. We’ve mostly kept our news off of social media, mostly because we wanted to be old-fashioned about it (you know, when people used to tell each other news in person?) but also because it’s such an emotional and sensitive topic for us and our close family and friends that we thought it was better handled off-line. However, we have had so many wonderful, positive responses and a great deal of other young families like us saying “We’ve talked about moving out of California too! Let us know how it goes!” that we thought we would chronicle our experiences here to hopefully help and encourage others.

To answer the first question we get asked, no, we are not moving for Scott’s job.

It may sound strange, because it’s so counter-cultural, but we are not choosing our location for work. About 3 years ago, Scott and I decided that by the time Matthew was school aged, we would have accomplished a few things. 1) Decide what we wanted to do for schooling 2) Decide where we wanted to buy a house and 3) be financially ready to buy a house.

The first answer came to us rather quickly, as we were already mostly sure we would home school. Once we decided that was for sure our plan, that opened a lot of doors for us. The third answer was a battle as we worked on communicating our budget, using online tools and saving, saving, saving. I hope one day my husband will guest post his budget how-to because he has worked out a phenomenal program that keeps us accountable and on-task, and he has done a great job at getting us secure. But back to the subject, number 2. Where did we want to live?

The first and most obvious answer was in San Diego, because we were already here. We moved to San Diego 5 years ago for a job, with the intention of opening doors for Scott’s career. We did just that, his career has taken off and he is a highly sought after, very well-loved software developer with great resources and an amazing list of accomplishments over those years. But the more we thought about living in San Diego for the rest of our lives, it just wasn’t right. The cost of houses is absolutely unbelievable and we know that expensive city does not mesh well with stay-at-home-mom and lots of kids (which are absolutes in our life, Lord willing). I also really don’t want to live in a track home and growing up in a small town in the mountains, I was having a hard time accepting raising my kids in a suburb of one of the largest cities in California. When we talked about what we wanted for our family, I craved the small-town and big yards that I grew up with and San Diego just wasn’t fitting in with my dreams. In general, we’ve never really embraced everything that people pay the big bucks for in San Diego – we don’t really go to the beach and we just aren’t really big activity people, we would rather spend our weekends hanging out at home than kayaking, visiting museums, running (everyone here runs!), or being at big, crowded events. We just knew San Diego wasn’t our home.

After we decided that, we considered our other options: move back to where we were from or pick a completely different spot. I think like most people do, we started considering work opportunities. We were not okay with a long commute, as family time is a top priority. Both of our hometowns don’t have a ton of opportunities for software developers (mine probably has zero, considering it has a population of 5000) and we knew that in order to work close to home, we would have to make sacrifices both financially and in the line of work (at this point, Scott was designing an app for Xbox One so you can see how not much could live up to that!). We started considering other states. At first, it was mostly a joke… kind of the politically conservative “get of out California” jokes. I had always felt like I was more of “Southern Belle” than a Southern Californian any way – I’m kinda the cookie-baking-porch-swing-sitting-apron-wearing type. And as we began to pray and talk and think… the idea of moving out of state became more and more of a necessity than an idea. The list of pros was quickly outweighing the cons and we just knew that our minds were made up. But there were more logistics to cover, especially the job situation.

The more we thought about job choices, the more we started wondering why we were letting a job – something that, while necessary and important, is so temporal- rule our decision. As amazing as Scott’s job is, he was never going to stand before God and hear “Great code there, Scott, you really nailed that website”. We thought about our faith, we thought about what God was asking of us and we knew that the most important thing we can do on this earth is represent the Lord through our marriage and our family. We considered what that looked like and how we could be purposeful about raising people who love and serve the Lord. I’m getting way off track here, but the more we prayed and sought answers, the more we were seeing a smaller town, a smaller church, a smaller community. And old fashioned, slower paced, know-your-neighbors kind of life. And Texas just kept on coming to our mind.

Little by little we were getting convicted to make huge changes in our life and in our parenting and in our walk with God. We decided we ought to go to Texas. We chose to visit Austin because of the big tech industry there. We visited some areas just outside, in commutable distance, and we came home discouraged. We had really thought we would show up and the skies would open and God’s countenance would shine upon us and we would hear “This is your new home!” but surprisingly, that didn’t happen. And since that didn’t happen, we thought maybe we were wrong. So we went home and thought “Well, I guess we’re not moving to Texas.”

But as He does, the Lord laughed at our plans and continued pushing us towards Texas. We had previously talked about Scott working from home in the future so that he could participate in homeschooling at a deeper level. Just out of curiosity, Scott started applying for remote positions. He decided to take an interview to explore what exactly remote positions entailed and whether or not it would work for us. Of course (because like I said, he’s awesome) he was offered an amazing position and he accepted! After he accepted this remote position, we knew that was the answer to our prayers that we had been waiting for and now we were on our way to leaving California.

And then the ball was rolling!
Telling our families was probably the hardest part. Of course we could not overlook the huge change of being an entire plane ride away from family. We had always been a short drive away and it was certainly not something we took for granted. We talked to a lot of friends who live far away from their extended families and we found that, for the most part, the distance made family visits as a vacation – something special and exciting and memorable. We are choosing to focus on the benefits of that scenario and praying that God will provide for us a church family that will be able to support us.

A lot of people have asked why Texas, mostly because they’ve considered it too… and while I touched on it a bit in the above explanation there are a few main reasons. The first thing we checked was homeschooling laws because that is very important to us. While California is “free enough” for most people, we were drawn to the idea of a “No Notice” state which there are about 10. We also didn’t want to live in any very cold climates so that took a big chunk off the list. We also considered Arizona, which is not a No Notice state but does have low regulation. Texas is also a mostly-conservative state, which politically is important to us. The ol’ “God, Family, Country” theme is our main draw. The people of Texas, the hospitality, the South, the family values is what drew us there. We know a lot of people leaving California for the Pacific Northwest, but just like we weren’t really “San Diego People” we didn’t think we were “PNW People” either. We aren’t really outdoorsy and we knew we just wouldn’t appreciate the greenery up there like everyone else. Texas just fit with us. So if you’re considering a move, find your priorities and weigh the pros and cons. Oh and yes, we know it’s hot in Texas!

And more specifically, why San Antonio? Well, the answer to that is really vague. Sometimes it feels like we just drew it out of a hat. First of all, I should clarify that our plan is to rent in San Antonio while we explore other areas. Like I mentioned before, we don’t want to live in a city or even a suburb, we want to find a smaller town. We just didn’t think picking a random small town was the best idea! We decided it was best to find a landing spot for the time being and spend some time exploring the area. But Texas is a large state and there are a lot of options. Since we had tried, and not loved, Austin we started considering Houston. We were particularly looking for churches, family-integrated churches specifically, and there is a big one outside of Houston. But the more we explored there, we realized we were stressed and not at peace. We invited a couple from church, who are from Texas, over for prayer and counsel and a little encouragement. We explained to them what we were looking for and they told us to try Hill Country. They suggested the area between San Antonio and Austin, which is the opposite direction from which we looked before. Once we began our {internet} research of San Antonio, we felt peace and the pieces started coming together. We know that even though we want to live and fellowship in a smaller town, having access to things like educational field trips, amusement parks, airport, colleges, and other benefits a city has. San Antonio can offer us those things and has plenty of smaller towns on the outskirts.

To wrap up this very lengthy post, I’ll just say that all in all, it’s a huge step of faith. We have a lot of things figured out, we made a lot of smart choices, a lot of well-thought out plans, and a lot of prayers and counsel went into this decision. BUT there is a huge element of faith, there is a a lot of unknown about what we are embarking on and for all we know, we could get there and hate it. However, we have a ton of peace about it and we are very excited. We are confident that our family will thrive in Texas and that God will bless us for our faithfulness. If you would like to join us in prayer, you can pray for a safe trip out there as well as the kids’ behavior and adjustment to the craziness of life on the road. You can also pray for us to find the community of our dreams to settle down.

I will continue to blog in this series, to encourage and inform those who are interested in a similar journey and to update our loved ones on our adventure. This was the Emotional How To and I will post again soon with the Logical (How we are moving 3 kids and a ton of junk across the country, renting an apartment sight unseen, and searching for a home in the wild frontier!)

But for now, I think I have a few boxes to pack…

Loving Moms Through Postpartum Mood Disorders

on April 2, 2015 by JennieRippey in Family, Uncategorized

Bear each other’s burdens and so fulfil the law of Christ. Galatians 6:2

While most moms experience some sort of emotional change after giving birth, postpartum mood disorders are anything but normal. Unfortunately, when moms are going through them they don’t always speak out. Sometimes it’s out of fear of admitting the thoughts they struggle with. Sometimes it’s worry that friends will brush it off or belittle the severity. Sometimes it’s concern that no one can or wants to deal with such an emotional train wreck.

When I had my first child, I actually planned to leave my husband so that he wouldn’t have to deal with me. The only thing that kept me there was that I couldn’t decide what would be best for him, taking the baby or leaving him.

The statistics say that 1 in 5 moms suffer from some sort of postpartum mood disorder. This includes depression, anxiety, psychosis and more. Because 70-80% of moms get a case of the baby blues, it is easy for others to misunderstand postpartum mood disorders. The Baby Blues usually last for the first few weeks where as PPMD can show up anytime in the first year and usually last months upon months, especially when left untreated.

Because I’ve had two births that were followed by PPMD and one that was not, the way I would describe the difference is that having a PPMD is more severe.
When a normal thought is “I just want to go to bed and sleep forever!” the unhealthy thought is “I want something terrible to happen to me so I can go to the hospital and have pain medication”.
Normal thought “I am so overwhelmed I don’t even know where to start in my to-do list!”
Unhealthy thought “I can’t even do my every day chores. I suck as a mom and a wife and it would be better for everyone if I just left.”
Normal thought “I feel so isolated. I’m so lonely.”
Unhealthy thought “I have no friends. No one would care if I drove my car off a cliff”

I’m sharing my experience for two reasons, one is that I want moms who have PPMD to know they are not alone. But also because I feel that people who have not experienced PPMD do not always know how to support their loved ones who do experience them. If you are experiencing PPMD, having support from your friends and family is so important. Please find someone you love and trust to share with. Make sure your husband knows and understands. Tell him your scary thoughts. He needs to know exactly what you’re going through. Find articles and blogs, to help give him insight.

It’s very scary to say “I have postpartum depression” out loud and even scarier to say it to another person. Most of the moms I spoke to about this said they mostly just wanted someone to talk to. If someone you love shares a little, or a lot, of their struggle with you, here are some tips to help them out.
– Try not to compare experiences. If she’s saying she’s “overwhelmed” you might be tempted to say “Yeah, we all are overwhelmed with a new baby!” She might actually mean she’s feeling hopeless and desperate and not know how to say it.

– Don’t just say “Let me know if you need anything!” Offer her something specific. Ask her what would help and offer what you are capable of. Can you take her kids for a playdate? Can you come over with a cup of coffee? Can you fold some laundry? Really listen to her answer. If she sounds unsure, she might not want know how to tell you that she’s uncomfortable with what you’re offering. Another thing that’s helpful is to be assertive and tell her dates and times. Don’t leave it open ended by suggesting “sometime”.

– Don’t assume. Just because you see me post a picture of my kids doing awesome crafts on Instagram doesn’t mean it’s all June Cleaver over here. What you don’t see is that 20 minutes before that picture I had an epic meltdown, yelled at my kids, ran in my bedroom and thought “I need something for them to do before I leave them home alone and go check in to The Holiday Inn” so I threw the construction paper and glue sticks at them. The mess will then stay on my table for two days. I took a picture because I was proud of myself that they weren’t watching TV again.

– Ask a lot of questions. If you ask how she is and she says “fine”, ask again. Ask a couple days later. Ask more specific questions. “Are you up for company?” “Are you getting enough sleep?” “Are you still feeling overwhelmed?” “Want to go for a walk?” “How’s your relationship with your husband?” “Are you struggling with anything specific?” And then listen. Let her know you hear her and validate her. Don’t offer too much advice. Hormones are not rational and don’t respond well to “just let it go!”

– Just understand. Most of the time, I feel like I’m walking on thin ice. Sometimes I might be skating gracefully and doing spins and twirls, but then all of a sudden I feel the ice begin to break out underneath me. When that feeling happens, I’m embarrassed to be around people because I don’t know what they will think of me. When I can say to my friend, “I’m starting to have anxiety being here” and they answer with, “Okay, do you want to leave?” I immediately feel safe.

Because all moms have different symptoms and needs, I’ve asked a few other moms I know to share their own experiences.

Mama C: I have two children (ages 3 and 5) and have experienced postpartum depression twice, and it was definitely more severe after my second baby. It wasn’t just depression, however, as I also experienced intense anxiety as well as at least one obsessive-compulsive behavior. My experience included: severe insomnia, loss of appetite/weight-loss, thoughts of harming myself, severe irritability, and a pervasive sense of hopelessness and worthlessness. For the first four months with my second, I felt so overwhelmed, exhausted, and anxious that many mornings I simply couldn’t get out of bed to face life with a colicky baby. My husband had to call off work on several occasions to cover child care on those days, and I began to have feelings of anger and resentment towards my baby (though thankfully never had thoughts of harming her.) It was very difficult at the time to share with others what was going on – I truly felt that most people didn’t care (a lie that depression tells you) or just wouldn’t “get it” (especially if they had never gone through it themselves.) I deeply appreciated the few people who showed genuine concern and desire to listen/understand – whether by calling/texting to check on me, asking me to coffee to talk, or offering practical help. For me, deeper relief eventually came after talking with my doctor and making the decision to go on an antidepressant (a life-saver for me, literally), as well as hiring regular childcare to give me reliable breaks. Looking back, I know that I have never felt so alone or afraid at any other time in my life, and I still thank the Lord that – with help – I was able to climb out of the abyss. Life certainly isn’t perfect now, but I feel healthy and “normal” and truly enjoy time with my family and doing things that I love again. I want to tell any mom going through something similar that 1) you are not alone, and 2) please take the courageous step to reach out (sooner rather than later,) tell the whole truth of what you’re feeling, and keep asking for help until you get it!

Mama A: So I was told to keep this not too long however this is a topic close to my heart, in fact I am currently writing a paper on it. After each of two my boys I experienced PPD (Postpartum Depression). My chart says “Major reoccurring postpartum depression with recurrent episodes are mild” and “anxiety”. Each child I get bad PPD and I still struggle some days. Sometimes my anxiety is bad and other times my depression pops back up. I tried a few times to talk to my friends and family about it however PPD is almost taboo. Most people know the term “baby blues” and associate that with PPD however although they can be related but they aren’t the same. My family and friends didn’t understand or would think that I was fine and I went undiagnosed for months. It severely affected all my relationships in many aspects. I was a puddle of emotions and my husband didn’t know if I was going to flip or break down at any moment. The things that helped me were yoga. I do yoga every day and my kids too. My friends and family learning about PPD and us talking about what I needed from them and how they could support me was a big one. Lastly becoming friends with people who dealt with it and survived it. Postpartum Progress is a great resource to connect with moms and survivors. The hard thing about PPD depression is the signs/symptoms can vary. The common idea is that you can get it and deal with it from birth- a year, new research is showing some moms may get it while pregnant and it may be possible to have it even after a year. Common signs are: Loss of appetite, Insomnia, Intense irritability and anger, Overwhelming fatigue, Loss of interest in sex , Lack of joy in life, Feelings of shame, guilt or inadequacy, Severe mood swings, Difficulty bonding with your baby, Withdrawal from family and friends, Thoughts of harming yourself or your baby.

To any mom who is struggling I would say getting help takes a tremendous amount of courage but I am so proud of you. I am praying for you. You are an incredible mom because you are getting help so you can be the best mom/wife/friend you can be.

Mama M: I have a total of 6 kids, 4 are mine (soon to be 6, 4, 2, and due with 4th in 2-3 weeks) and 2 are my husband’s teenage siblings, 18 and 15, that we care for full time.

Around the time of my first three births, one or more very stressful life events have happened, so it is difficult for me to attribute my depression solely to PPD as it could very well be situational depression as well as symptom of my autoimmune disease and thyroid issues. Also, in between my first and second and second and third births, I had a miscarriage. The first one we lost twins and I was emotionally devastated and the second time was very traumatic physically and it took a while for me to heal from that.

I did not tell anybody because I am not one to ask for help and because at the time, I wouldn’t have thought myself to be depressed. It is only hindsight that I clearly see that I was in it deep. This 4th pregnancy is actually the first time that I have reached out and admitted that I needed help. It has been a humbling and blessed season for me.

I wish that I didn’t put up this supermom facade for so so long. Being broken beyond what I could fix myself has really allowed me to be open and honest with moms in particular and the response has been amazing. Being vulnerable and sharing that with others is incredibly freeing and is now my passionate prayer for other moms. My advice would be to find someone and to be real. It is scary at first, but I bet you will find that walls and facades are broken down real quick and true, genuine, beautiful friendships will be born.
Mama S: I have 2 children and I experienced postpartum depression with both of them to varying degrees. I have a history of depression, so I knew that getting postpartum depression would be more likely for me, but I wasn’t fully prepared for it with my first son. The depression was worst with him because I didn’t get any help or reach out to anyone. I felt very isolated, ashamed, and embarrassed and thought that I shouldn’t be feeling this way. To an outsider, I probably looked like everything was fine, but internally I was falling apart. I would still have enjoyable moments with my son, but I would often experience crying or anxiety and get overwhelmed in my emotions or negative thoughts. It was difficult for me to be around other moms because I looked at everyone else as ‘normal’ because they seemed so happy and have it together but I felt like a mess. However, keeping everything to myself caused me to suffer longer and harder than I had to. With my second son I was more prepared and sought help before he was born. I looked for a counselor who specialized in postpartum depression, which was very helpful, and I also attended a few postpartum support groups that helped me realize that I wasn’t alone in my feelings. I shared with friends and family that I felt like I could trust and asked for prayer and emotional support when needed. The most difficult part about having postpartum depression is reaching out for help because it makes me want to stay isolated in fear of being misunderstood. I believe that God has been with me through every tear and desperate prayer and that He continues to heal me.

2 Kings 20:5 (ESV) – “…Thus says the Lord, the God of David your father: I have heard your prayer; I have seen your tears. Behold, I will heal you…”

All of these mamas and myself want to pray for you. If you want to comment here or on Facebook, we will be praying for you or you can send me an email to mrs.rippey@gmail.com and I will make sure it gets to the above mama. Remember that friendship cannot replace professional help, so if you are experiencing harmful thoughts towards yourself or others, you need to call your doctor or a crisis line immediately.

The Birth Story of Ben Michael

on November 14, 2014 by JennieRippey in Family

I haven’t blogged in about a year… but since we had a new baby, I think it calls for a post!

The Birth Story of Ben Michael
Before we even got pregnant, we knew we wanted a home birth with our next baby. Matthew’s 40 hour hospital birth had us thinking homebirth even with Charlotte, but for financial reasons we opted on having Charlotte in the hospital as well. I think most people assume that we were against hospital births because we chose a homebirth, but that’s not the case at all. We had great hospital experiences where our birth plans were respected, we were treated compassionately and all our wishes were met. But the hospital isn’t a comfortable place especially while in pain. But mostly, I don’t like the idea of leaving my kids overnight or for long periods of time and we wanted to stay together.

Charlotte’s birth went so smoothly I was very confident I could have a great homebirth experience. We excitedly interviewed midwives and when we met Kayti, even though she was only our second interview, we knew she was the right midwife for us. And even more of a blessing was that Kayti had student midwives who were willing to help us care for the kids during the birth. One of the best things about the homebirth experience was that the kids were active participants in the prenatal care. They loved their sibling from the moment they knew he existed in my womb. They affectionately named him Sweet Baboo.

Helping Measure

Ben’s birth was much anticipated since we decided against finding out the gender ahead of time. As I approached my due date, we definitely thought I’d have him before November as I had a lot of prodromal labor and signs of readiness. Weeks 38 and 39 were emotionally rough for me, I was exhausted and not sleeping great, having contractions almost every night and waking up still not in labor. Getting the kids out of the house was beginning to be overwhelming but staying in was making us all crazy. I didn’t want to have a Halloween baby so the night before Halloween I was filled with anxiety trying to make him stay put. Once November 1^st, came I suddenly felt better! I had a renewed energy and I was willing to go through daily life and not rush Sweet Baboo.

On Halloween, thankful I’m not giving birth (40 weeks)

At 3am on November 8^th, I woke up having contractions about 10 min apart. I tried to sleep through them but by 3:30 I couldn’t lay still through the intensity and was having to move through them. By 4am, Scott was up with me and timing them. They very quickly became longer, stronger and closer together and by 5am, were coming 5 minutes apart, with great intensity and length. We called Kayti and told her that I was in labor, but not to rush. I knew by my mood that we still had some time.

41 Weeks Pregnant and in Labor

Kayti and her team arrived around 6am and started getting ready for the impending birth. Shortly thereafter the kids and the sun woke up and my contractions started to pitter out. I spent about 20 minutes walking around the backyard, but while the intensity remained the same the contractions were still about 10 min apart. Kayti decided they would leave and we could labor alone, then call her when they picked back up. I had her check me before she left, just because I was curious.

Using the ball and my husband to work through the contractions

I was dilated to a 4 and Kayti told me I felt very ready, and she knew I’d have this baby today. They left around 9am. After they left, I tried to rest and Scott took the kids to the store to get me a ham and pineapple pizza. At about 10:30 the contractions were kicking again and I was starting to vomit so we assumed things were picking up and called Kayti to come back. I was a little hesitant because I was still feeling really pleasant between contractions but I also had hoped that because of the homebirth maybe I’d have an easier birth this time.
One of the midwives supporting me

This is about where I lost track of time, but I’ll give my best estimates. After another hour or so of contractions, despite my pleasant mood, I had Kayti check me again and sure enough I was 0 station, 8 cm and getting close to being complete. I decided to get in the tub and labor in there for a while. Laboring in the tub was great. It definitely helped me cope with the pain and made the contractions less intense.

Around noon, Scott went to put the kids down for their naps and I kept on laboring. Pretty soon I was ready to push and I was quite sure I would be having this baby any time. I started pushing and could very quickly feel his head approaching crowning. I was so excited, especially because while the labor was hard, it was going very quickly and smoothly and I was in a great mood (which is not normal for me in labor!).

After pushing for quite some time with no results (and starting to get very tired, discouraged and feisty) Kayti checked me again and we found out that it was not his head pressing down, but rather my bag of waters. This was bad news because the bag of waters is not able to dilate the cervix the same way and can make birthing the baby more difficult. Kayti asked if I wanted to wait or if I wanted her to break my bag. I was sure that if she broke my bag, the baby’s head would engage and I’d be able to push him out right then. I was wrong.

After Kayti broke my bag, she noticed that I had a lip on the front of my cervix and I was not fully dilated like we thought. This was about the time I started hating the labor (my normal) and got very discouraged and upset. I felt like I had just had an entire labor and then was told I had to start all over again. Even though Kayti and the other midwives assured me that I was not starting from square one, I was exhausted after about 12 hours of labor.

The midwives suggested I get out of the tub and move to the bed. As soon as I was out the contractions got brutal. Having my water broken, the contractions were coming close and hard. Kayti had me switching side laying positions, to help even out the lip on my cervix. The contractions were incredibly painful and were starting to have the natural pushing feeling indicating that he’d be coming soon. And while my mind knew that to be true, I refused to believe it and was still convinced I had many hours to go.

I really wanted to transfer to the hospital and mentally was weighing my options. After every contraction, I would beg to go to the hospital, curse homebirth, declare that I needed a c-section but during the contraction, when I could not talk my thoughts would turn to my kids. I didn’t want to leave them, I didn’t want someone else putting them to bed, I didn’t want them to miss the birth and I didn’t want to be away from them for an entire day.

Finally, I agreed for Kayti to check me again so I could make a decision if I wanted to go to the hospital or not. I knew that if I decided to transfer for pain medication it was likely to take a while and I could have the baby before I got relief any way. Kayti told me I was at 9 and ¾ and that I was at the finish line. But “you’re going to have this baby soon” was the theme of the night and “soon” was not soon enough for me.

Nancy suggested I go to the bathroom and have a few contractions on the toilet (gravity is helpful). With Scott helping me, I had a few hard contractions on the toilet and decided to get into the tub again. Scott left the room to get the kids ready for bed.

It was about this time that I retreated into myself and what happened next was a blur. I got on my knees and held onto the side of the tub. The contractions starting coming fast and hard. I could feel my body pushing and his head moving lower but I allowed the pain to interrupt my thoughts and I ignored it. I remember telling Kayti it hurt in my butt and she said “that’s good”. I yelled at her “It is NOT good! It’s really bad. BAD.”

Shortly thereafter, I felt the infamous ring of fire and I thought “No way… no way he’s crowning.” Suddenly, my body pushed and I bared down, the fire burned and my only thought was that I literally could not stop pushing and suddenly I was holding my baby’s head in my hands.

I remember looking up and all of the midwives, Scott and the kids were in the bathroom and Scott was saying “Look, do you guys see Sweet Baboo’s head?” Just then Kayti jumped in the tub with me and said “Jennie, I need you stand up.” She got behind me and I stood up. She had me put one of my legs up on the side of the tub. She said, “I have a nuchal hand, Jennie, I really need you to push.” As we noticed later in the ultrasound, Ben liked his hands up by his face!

I pushed as hard as I could and suddenly my baby was out. Kayti told me to sit and she set him on my chest. I said, “He’s out, he’s out! Is he a he?!” She said, “Check!”

I turned him over and I said, “It’s a BOY!” I told Matthew to look and Matthew said, “Mrs. Buehler! He has a penis! He’s Ben Michael!”

This is such a “mom” face as I ask the kids what they think!

The kids were delighted. Charlotte wanted to get in the tub, but it was a little messy so I told her to wait. After a while, I had not delivered my placenta yet so we decided to cut the cord and hand him to Scott for skin to skin while I took care of it. Matthew cut the cord and we handed Ben to Daddy for snuggles.

Having a baby birthday party!

Ben was born at 8:11 pm and weighed in at a healthy 8lbs, 9oz and 20.5” inches long. He is very healthy and doing wonderful. He’s such an amazing addition to our family and I am elated that everyone got to be there for his birth.

The big kids were so wonderful during the whole birth. When they came into the room, they were calm, helpful and encouraging. When the left the room, they played nicely, took their naps and helped the midwives make food. After the birth, the midwives told us how great our kids were and it was such an amazing compliment. I am so proud to be their mama and I am so thankful for the gifts the Lord has given to us.

To our little Baby Ben, your name was chosen as a tribute to your Yankee Papa, my dad that I loved and miss every day. I know that throughout your life, you will remind me of him… especially because you came out with your dukes up! I love you little guy and you will be a treasured part of our family.

What If You Were a Missionary?

on October 15, 2013 by JennieRippey in Family

Mamas, let’s try something for a minute. Close your tired eyes and imagine you weren’t a mama, and you weren’t a wife. Instead, you were a missionary. Imagine you lived in a foreign land – a land where the people had never heard of Jesus. They had never read the Bible, in fact, they don’t even speak English and you don’t have a copy of the scriptures in their language. Imagine that they are a culture that doesn’t know grace. Imagine they are a culture that is dying out because they handle conflict with anger and violence. People die because they get injuries or illnesses that they don’t know how to treat. They need to learn to plant gardens, to make clean water, to work as a team.

And you, maybe with another person or two, are responsible for this. You heard God loud and clear. He told you to go. He told you to bring the Good News and teach and care and love. There are times when it’s hot there, it’s miserable and all you want to do is go into an air conditioned restaurant like you could back home but instead you’re out in the fields showing women how to garden. And there are times when the people are arguing and you’re scared but instead you keep calm and you share peace. And there are times when you want to give up, because it’s too much and you can’t remember how you got here or why and you can’t see God’s hand in it any more. And a lot of people think maybe it’s a waste of time or it’s too much of a sacrifice and you’d just be happier working as a teacher in a comfy classroom with healthy children who go home to their own parents at night.

But, you know this is your calling. And you know this is who are you, right now, in this moment and it’s exactly who you are supposed to be. And even when it doesn’t feel like it, it’s enough.

Mama… YOU ARE A MISSIONARY. Right now, in your home, in your life, you are a missionary.

Your little people, they have never heard of Jesus. They’ve never read the Bible and they won’t for quite a few years, but even then you’ll have to translate into “kid”. You have to forgive them over and over because they don’t come out knowing grace. They need to learn to express their anger and frustration with words, not with hitting, screaming and biting. Because if you don’t teach them, they’ll turn into mean, selfish bullies. You have to teach them to keep themselves clean, to eat and prepare healthy food. You have to teach them how to live.

And you, and probably with your husband {and maybe a helpful grandparent and an awesome community} are responsible for this. You heard God loud and clear {even if it was a complete shock to see those little pink lines}. He told you to go into the missionfield of mommyhood. He told you to bring the Good News, to teach and care and love. And sometimes you’re really tired and you just want to sleep until 9am {is that too much to ask?!}. And sometimes you want to have a conversation with an adult without having to stop every 3 minutes to say “Use your words”. And sometimes you think if you have to say “We don’t put our hands in the toilet” one more time you’re going to lose your freakin mind. And sometimes your older child is biting your younger child for walking too close to the blocks and you want to bite someone too, but instead you choose to teach them how to treat someone {and then you go in your room and throw a shoe}. And sometimes you want to give up, because it’s too much and you don’t remember how you got here and why and you can’t see God’s hand in it anymore. And a lot of people think it’s a waste of time or it’s too much of a sacrifice and you’d just be happier working as a teacher in a comfy classroom with other people’s children who go home at the end of the day.

But mama, you know this is your calling. And this is who you are right now, in this moment and this is exactly who you are supposed to be. And even when it doesn’t feel like it, it is enough.

We have some how stumbled across the notion that being a mom and a wife is not enough. We’ve added the word “just” to mom. As in, “I’m JUST a mom.”

We throw around things like “I need to find myself” or “I don’t know who I am without my job”. What I’m about to say may offend someone, but I’m not sorry. Whatever job you have {have had, will have} will never leave a lasting impression like the one you will leave on your kids. That includes that impression your marriage leaves. I’m not saying all moms need to be stay at home moms… but your job should be secondary to who you are and what you do as a mom and a wife.

If you don’t show up to work, they will replace you. If you don’t show up to parent, there is no one who can replace you. Be there. Be a mom. Be a wife. And be proud of it.

Charlotte is One!

on July 8, 2013 by JennieRippey in Family

Charlotte Claire… you are one! I can’t believe it. It seems like it went so quickly. When we found out you were on your way, we were surprised and elated! Your life came at a time when I needed some cheering up and it did the trick!

Daddy and I picked out your name before we even had children, and as soon as we knew you were a girl, we knew we’d call you Charlotte. Your big brother calls you CeCe (but it sounds like TeeTee) and Daddy and I like to call you Ceese. Since you were born, I called you my Muffin, and I like to make silly nicknames to go with it like “CeCe Muffin” or “ScrudMuffin”. We also jokingly like you Scrappy because you’re always finding food on the floor and eating it. Daddy said “One thing is for sure with this girl, she will eat half of her meal in her chair and the other half on the floor!”

When I was pregnant with you, you made it very clear to me you were different than your brother. You waited until long after your guess date to make an appearance and the story of your birth was a whole different ball game! While your brother enjoys being the center of attention, you enjoy watching from the sidelines. You are very observant and I think you’ll have a great sense of discernment. You are very careful when it comes to trust, and you make people work hard for your affection. That’s an admirable quality and I think it will serve you later in life.

You’ve always had a sweet demeanor but you’ve also got a sassy side. You know exactly what you want and you’re a bit fiesty. I’m a little worried how that will play out when you’re two… or sixteen!

There is something very special about your features – sometimes you look exactly like your daddy but sometimes you look just like me! I often see your brother’s expressions and I think you have your Auntie Tina’s nose. You definitely have your Daddy’s white-blonde hair and you get your easily tanned skin from the Toral Cuban side. I love to see the way God has combined two people in one sweet little life.

You really love your brother! I know you two will be best friends. You try your hardest to keep up with him and you are learning to fight back and defend yourself. He is a crazy guy so I think you’re learning how to play hard. He is always protecting you, feeding and making sure you have everything you need! He likes to tell mommy when you need something.

I love having a daughter to dress up and sew for! I loved making your Disneyland outfits and headbands for every holiday! I hope that as you get bigger you will know that this is how I show you my love and that you will always ask me to make your costumes, dress-up clothes and maybe one day your prom dress!

You love books and sometimes I catch you alone just reading. You love to play cars and you really love hugging stuffed animals and baby dolls. You love to play outside and love toys you can ride on! You are starting to climb the play structures at the park! You took your first steps at 10 months and now you are walking like a pro. You can say mama, dada, MattMatt, cracker, ball, book, banana, Nana, and you say “na” for hungry. You know your signs for please, thank you, sorry, more and milk. You nod your head yes (and it’s adorable) and shake your head no. You love to swim and once you jumped in our kiddie pool fully clothed! You’re a good eater and you will not hesitate to steal food. You love fruit, especially strawberries and clementines.

You love to nurse and that has been such a blessing to me. It’s been hard sometimes because you always need your mommy, especially for sleeping, and sometimes I’ve felt that I’m doing you an injustice by not teaching you to be more self sufficent but I remember that you are still a baby. There will come a day when you won’t need me anymore and I will look back on these days with longing. I pray that when you’re a mommy, you will be grateful for the bond we have and be willing to do the same, with great joy, for your children.

My sweet little Muffin, I cannot believe you’re one. I love watching you grow. You are a beautiful, smart and curious girl. I look forward to seeing the woman you will become.

Happy Birthday Charlotte Claire.

Love,
Mama

I Know You’re Tired

on June 12, 2013 by JennieRippey in Family

Dear Mamas,

I know you’re tired.

I know it because you are saying it on Facebook. You are saying it when I ask “How are you?” You are saying it in your forgetfulness and your lateness and the blank stare in your eyes. You’re saying it at the grocery store when the guy says “paper or plastic” and you just say “Uhhhhh”. But mostly, mama, I know you’re tired because I am too.

When I had Matthew, I would secretly roll my eyes when other moms told me they were tired. The kid slept like an angel. I would put him in his bed at 7 pm, wide awake and he would sleep until 7am. Naps were the same. If he could have talked, I’m sure he would have said “Excuse me, Mother. It’s time for my afternoon nap. Please bring me to my bassinet”. (That has a British accent in case you didn’t infer that…)

Then there was Charlotte. Oh my sweet baby girl. I cannot get this kid to sleep. She needs to nurse all-the-freakin-time. She needs to be rocked, shushed, sung to, cuddled and put down it the precise right cadence and pressure. We spent the first 3 months with her in my bed all night (which is normal and I always say the first 3 months are just about getting used to each other). But after that I tried moving her to her cradle from time to time and she always ended back with me. She nursed all night. She was up every 3 hours. I hardly slept at all. I wasn’t willing to “sleep train” and we didn’t start solids until 6 months (and that didn’t help). I don’t use rice cereal, especially not in a bottle… but Charlotte has never had a bottle, so that wouldn’t have worked any way. Charlotte has shown me what it means to be tired. And then not only did I want to kick myself for rolling my eyes just a year earlier, but I also wanted to kick anyone without kids who said they were tired! (Or my husband who slept through every feeding and woke up like “Man, Charlotte slept good right? I’m so exhausted” Dude. Are you serious?)

So mamas, I’m with you. I’m tired too.

Here are my suggestions for you:

– Don’t let tired get the best of you. I wrote a blog a few months ago about my pouting during church. Read it, laugh at me, but seriously, don’t be a two year old because you’re tired. It’s not good for people who have to be around you, but it’s not good for you either. If you need a time-out, and sometimes mommies do, just go to your room. No one wants to see your fit. (Yes, that might be what I say to my two year old…)

– Don’t make any crucial decsions when you’re tired. These may or may not be actual things that have crossed my mind while up rocking a screaming baby in the middle of the night. “That’s it, I’m just letting her cry. I don’t care.” “I should have given her a bottle, then Scott could do this” “I hate having kids, why did I become a mom, I’m just so freaking tired” “We’re giving her formula. Every night.” “Tylenol. Where’s the Tylenol.” “I’m never having more kids!” Of course I care, I would never just leave her to cry (but I do switch off when I’m feeling frustrated), I love my kids, I love being a mom, and I do want to have more kids. Being tired can really make you crazy!

– Laugh a little. Because it’s kinda of funny. Not the being tired, not the sleepless nights (those aren’t even a little funny) but read this blog about being a “Mombie” and have a little chuckle. We laugh because it’s true.

– Change your perspective. I’m not saying it works 100% of the time, and I’m definitely not saying I have it all figured out. But so far, in my short mothering career, I’m learning that the less I think of myself (and the less I care that I do) the better I feel. Learning to die to myself, to kill my selfish needs, and to let my kids be #1 the easier my days are. Yes, it’s nice to get in a shower. And yes, it’s nice to do my hair and pick out something nice to wear. But the world won’t end if I have yoga pants and ugly hair, and if I’m going to be bitter at my kids all day because I didn’t get those things, it’s really not worth it.

– Be with people who understand. If you’re hanging out with a bunch of single women who are tired because they stayed out having too many cosmos, you’re probably not going to very compassionate… nor or they. They don’t get it, and it’s okay. But try to mingle with other mamas who know what tired is. You have to find a friend who will finish your sentence when you say “Did you ever get the…. {long pause} sorry, I’m so tired, I don’t know what I was talking about.” Mom friends are awesome. (If you don’t have a MOPS group, you should get one. Because it literally has changed my life)

So hugs to you mama. I know you’re tired, because so am I. And in all the internet solidarity we can get, let’s all toast with our {second, or third?} cup of coffee… and say “Cheers! Because motherhood is tough… but it is oh so sweet.”

Dad: Forever in Our Hearts, and the Dugout

on April 12, 2013 by JennieRippey in Family

In memory of my Dad, who went to be with Jesus 2 years ago – April 16th 2011.

My Dad and I on my wedding day – March 29, 2009

A lot of people ask why I’m a Yankee fan. The short answer is:

I was born that way.

Dad on his first birthday with his parents

My dad was born in Guantanamo, Cuba but his family left to find refuge in America in the early 60’s just after Castro came into power. They made a home for themselves in New Jersey where my dad grew up going to mass, jumping fences and playing stick ball in the streets.

Dad holding the bat

During baseball season, he and his father and brother would take the train to the Bronx to watch the Yankees play. They would buy tickets for 50 cents and sit in the bleachers for the Saturday double headers. My dad even recalled watching Mickey Mantle play.

When Dad moved to California in the late seventies, he continued his loyalty to the Bronx Bombers and of course taught us everything he knew. When he became involved in the local Little League, he somehow managed to change the League color from “Dodger” Blue to “Yankee” Blue.

Dad coaching a Girl’s Softball All-Star Team

My dad used to joke that when he died he wanted to be buried under home plate of Yankee Stadium. The plan was that I was going to marry Derek Jeter and that, of course, The Captain could arrange for that. Since Derek and I didn’t work out, I knew I had to have a plan B.

Dad, Mom and myself watching the Opening Day game in Vegas

We decided to scatter his ashes in the House that Ruth Built.

However, they tore down the original stadium and rebuilt a new one across the street. I went online and booked tickets to the game right before his birthday. I also scheduled a stadium tour. I was great with the logistical plans, I just wasn’t sure how we were actually going to execute this.

My sister, Tina, was in charge of the ashes. We had to get a permit to travel with them, so she took care of that. Ashes are very heavy! It was like carrying a rock. She got the task honor of carrying them on the planes and through the airports. After all, I was carrying a baby (that was my excuse).

My husband (wearing Matthew), myself, my sister and brother in Central Park

We spent the first part of the week touring NYC. We went to Central Park, Grand Central Station, had sushi, Ray’s Pizza, buying Yankee souvenirs (those are hard to come by in Cali!), Times Square, Statue of Liberty, Ground Zero, and even saw a Broadway Show. Matthew was a dream baby the whole time.

All the Yankee Stuff!!

Grand Central Station

Highline Park, Downtown

Ray’s Pizza – the best!

The day came for us to see the Yankee game. We spent the day enjoying the bleacher seats and thinking about Dad. We even got to see Mariano Rivera beat the all-time saves record. It was a special day that we will never forget.

In the Bleachers, where Dad used to sit

Celebrating Mo’s Record

The next morning we had to get ready for the tour, but Scott and I wanted to sneak off in the morning to see the Statue of Liberty.

Visiting Lady Liberty

I had agreed to carry Dad’s ashes in a formula canister because security is generally very lax about baby items. We had failed to realize that the security to get on the island is just as tough as the airport security… which meant my backpack had to go through an x-ray machine, and I didn’t have the permit. I didn’t even know if I could legally be carrying them. And I repeat, they were in a formula canister. Can you look any sneakier?! As soon as I passed through the metal detectors my blood pressure shot up. Listen to me when I say this – I am a terrible liar. I don’t break rules. I don’t sneak. I don’t know how to BS my way out of anything.

THIS IS WHY TINA WAS IN CHARGE OF THE ASHES.

People, can you imagine what happened to me when they said “What is in that container?”

Me: Uh, it’s sand. (Yes, that’s right, I said sand. Panicking. I was panicking!)

Security Agent: It’s sand?

Me: Um… well, it’s um…

Security Agent: Is this… human remains?

Me: Um, (picture me, bright red, in a line of hundreds of people, freaking the heck out, oh-my-gosh-going-to-prison-someone-is-going-to-take-my-baby) um…

Security Agent: I don’t care if it is, I just want to know before I stick my hand in it.

Me: Yes, it is.

Security Agent: You need to step over here please.

Me: (Oh great, now I’m going to prison for lying…)

I had to move over to the security station where they just asked me if was planning to spread them off the boat. I said no, that I was taking them somewhere else but that we wanted to stop here first. They were very understanding and said that as long as I wasn’t to let them go off the boat, it was fine. Phew! But seriously, I almost died.

After that little incident, I was feeling a bit nervous about sneaking them into Yankee Stadium, let alone figuring out how we were going to spread them. We took the 4 train up to the Bronx and met my sister and brother in the stadium.

Waiting for the Tour to begin

We quietly and reverently toured the museum and all the indoor areas. We enjoyed looking for the championship rings and events from Dad’s birth years. After we toured the inside areas, we went into Monument Park. Monument Park is all dedicated to the Yankee greats and we thought Dad would like to be there too. First, Tina and Joseph took turns taking a scoop of ashes out and placing it in the bushes.

Getting ready to spread the ashes

I wanted to put Dad’s ashes by Mickey Mantle’s plaque, but I was so nervous! Scott and I pretended to take a photo while we “secretly” took a scoop of ashes out of the box. I am sure I looked like a darn fool to everyone watching. You guys, I wish we had this on video. I’m sure we would be peeing our pants laughing from how ridiculous we looked.

Trying not to look guilty

Dad’s ashes in the corner

After we finished in Monument Park, we got to walk down the stairs and into the dugout. When I had toured the original Yankee Stadium years ago, they let us walk into the bullpen and through the outfield. I had imagined that this would be our best bet. However, they didn’t do that this time. We got to walk on just a tiny area of foul line brick dust and were quickly escorted right into the dugout. I had imagined putting Dad’s ashes on the dirt in the dugout, along with all the sunflower seed shells and he’d be carried out, rounding first, fielding grounders and jumping over the outfield fence on the bottom of the player’s cleats. Oddly enough, the Yankee dugout isn’t dirt and there are no sunflower seed shells laying around.

In the Dugout

So, Joseph went first. He dumped a heaping scoop into the bat rack. The bat racks are deep, square compartments. We imagined puffs of ash flying off as A-Rod hit a grandslam. This way he’d be there, in the game, every bit of it. His wisdom, his hitting advice (elbow up, bat back, throw your hands, squish the bug), his base coaching, all of it. You may have heard that the Angels have some in the outfield but the Yankees… they have an angel in the dugout.

After the tour was over, we still had plenty of ashes left. We knew we couldn’t take them back to California and we didn’t know what else to do. So I walked up to our tour guide. He was a sweet, older man and had lots of Yankee passion.

Me: Has anyone ever asked to spread ashes here before?

Tour Guide: Asked? No. But they’ve done it!

Me: What do you mean?

Tour Guide: Well, once I had an old lady run from my tour and empty a bag of ashes on the pitcher’s mound.

Me: What did you do?!

Tour Guide: Nothing! What could I do? I just asked her to come back in.

Me: So, what would you say if someone wanted to do that.

Tour Guide: Get on my tour.

Me: What if said person was about 20 minutes too late for that?

Tour Guide: What? You have them now?

Me: Yes.

Tour Guide: Well, I can’t let you back down. There’s security and they are setting up for the game. I’d get in big trouble. Whose ashes are they?

Me: My Dad’s.

Tour Guide: If it were me, and I’m guessing your dad was about my age, I would want to be at the old stadium. Just go across the street.

*Awesome idea, my friend, awesome idea*

Across the street we go….

The new recreational fields and the new stadium in the back ground

The stadium was turned into three recreational fields. That was perfect for Dad. He was passionate about Little League, he used coaching as his ministry, to impart wisdom, love and success into children – especially children that came from broken families. The Bronx is right where Dad fit in.

When we got to the new fields, they were still under construction and there was a locked fence all the way around. We asked the construction workers if we could get in. They said no.

I saw an NYPD car parked nearby. Again, my blood pressure shot up and I felt so guilty. Then I decided that the last time I felt this way was for no reason, so best I could do was ask. I went to the NYPD car.

Me, talking to the NYPD officers

Me: Hi. I was wondering if spreading ashes is illegal.

NYPD: No, I don’t think so.

Me: Oh ok, good. Because we’re here from California and we really want to spread our dad’s ashes around the old Yankee stadium. He was a huge Yankee fan.

NYPD: I wish I could let you in, but it’s not our jurisdiction. But we won’t stop you.

Alright so now we had “permission” to do it. The construction crew had left and locked up. And there was only one security guard. We considered waiting until he was on the other side and just sneaking in. But Tina had a better idea.

She got out her pouty lip and flirty eyes and went up to the security guard. After a few minutes of pleading, she had permission to run inside the gate and dump the ashes at a light pole that was right where the original home plate was.

Tina dumping the ashes

There was still a bit of ashes left in a bag that didn’t fit in the formula container, so I took those ashes up with us to the 4 train. I dumped them in the subway track (even though it was pretty disgusting in there) but I thought it was a good tribute to the train rides Dad took as a kid to go watch his favorite players.

The last of the ashes in the 4 Train

It was a beautiful adventure. It was laughter and mourning and closure all in the same little package. It was the trip of a lifetime, sharing something beautiful with my siblings and my husband. But mostly, it was Dad.

We felt him there, shaking his head at our shenanigans. His quiet, “I suppose” when we wanted more Yankee souvenirs. His cocky “I called that one” when Mo saved the game. His pat on the leg, his flick on the noggin, the way he said “Right, Jen?”

I know he would have thought this trip was over the top. He would have said it was too expensive. He would have said it was not that big of a deal. He would have said to just leave him in the free container he came back to us in. But there is nothing in this world my dad wouldn’t have done for me, and if this is one small portion of that love being returned then it was a necessary event.

I am a Daddy’s girl and there will always be a gap that, even as a grown woman, will be left open in my heart. But my Dad will live on, and I pray that his passion for baseball will continue to root itself in all of the kids he’s coached over the years, that they will always think to themselves “Joe Toral taught me that” as they go about their lives.

Dad, you’re forever in our hearts and, of course, the Yankee dugout.

*If you’re reading this, and you knew my Dad… would you do our family the great favor of commenting here with your favorite memory or something my Dad taught you. It would bring me so much joy to share those stories with my kids who didn’t get to know thier Papa. Feel free to pass this on and share with any one who knew him.

My Baby Boy is 2!

on April 5, 2013 by JennieRippey in Family

Matthew William, my gift from God…. my 40 hour labor… my reminder of hope in darkness… my challenge…my blessing.

My sweet son, you made me a mommy and now you are turning 2! I just can’t believe it happened so fast!

The day you were born I’d never known such sweet reward. They don’t call it labor for nothing! And what a gift you are. Your dad and I were over joyed at the precious little bundle we had been given.

Now you are two.

You such an active little guy. You love to climb, run and play. You love sports. You love to sing “Take Me Out To the Ball Game” and I’ve already trained you to yell “Yankees” when we say “Root, root, root…” That would make your Papa smile. You are obsessed with bikes and you will be thrilled tomorrow morning when you open the gift we got you! You are never scared to climb new things at the park, and you rarely fall. I hardly worry about you when you run off to play.

You take after your mommy in your sweet tooth – you love cookies and candy so much. But you’re also a healthy eater and love to have bananas and eggs every morning. You love fruit and yogurt. You love peanut butter sandwiches and especially making them on your own. You love to help mommy in the kitchen, and always ask to help me bake or make dinner.

You love to play choo choos and you love to watch Go Diego Go. I love to watch you follow along on the TV and do the silly animal noises or movements. You are very smart and always answer the questions correctly. You love books and your favorite is Go Dog Go. I think both of those titles reflect your love of going! You are an adventurer.

You take after your daddy with your sense of humor and loving attention. You love to dance at church during worship. You love to say hi to strangers in the grocery store and you have wonderful manners.

You love having your picture taken, and if you find a camera or cell phone, you bring it to us and say “cheese!”

You have lots of toys that you love, but when it comes to bed time you must have “The Trio”. You have a snuggle pillow and a robot blankey that I made for you, and a sweet teddy you got as a gift. You call him “Burr”. We make sure you have those three items when you go to bed or when you aren’t feeling well. We always bring them with us when we travel so you can have a bit of home with you.

You are a GREAT big brother. You are great at sharing and you always make sure Charlotte has enough to eat. You love to tickle her and you love for her to ride in the wagon with you. You call her “TeeTee” and we think it’s adorable.

You sleep in your big kid bed now and enjoy waking us up bright and early every morning by announcing that you like juice. You also love to get mommy her coffee and help daddy get breakfast ready. You love to count, sing, read and I’m always impressed with how much you are learning. We think you’re the smartest boy ever. You love playing with your friends Ellie, Lucas and Addy. You give great hugs! You love bubbles and swimming. You love painting and if I am making a list, you usually like to sit with me and “draw” too.

Daddy and I like to call you Roo, or sometimes Rooster. You call Daddy “Ga Ga”. When Daddy comes home from work, you run to him and he rough houses with you. You love when he throws you up high in the air. You love to go on a walk with Daddy after work and bring home the mail to me. You two boys are so helpful to mommy.

Happy Birthday my sweet boy. You will never know how much I love you, how much I waited for the day I was called “Mama” and how much sweeter it really is. You truly are a gift. I love you son.

Love,
Mama

Abortion, Life and What You Should Do About It

on March 26, 2013 by JennieRippey in Family

I’ll be honest with you. I usually avoid hot topic blogs like this. Because honestly, I’m too tired for a debate. But friend, if this is debatable to you, I suggest you stop reading my blog.

I’m not going to be vague. I’m pro-life. And I think many people in my circle are. We spout out all these facts about babies being people right from conception. And about abortion being murder. We post photos of 12 week old babies. We talk about how they already have a heart beat. We scoff at the idea of it being illegal to ruin a bald eagle egg but killing a human is ok. We vote when we can. But what does that really do?

According to studies, more than 70% of women who have an abortion do so because of some sort of inconvience to their life. They can’t afford it. They want to finish school. They weren’t ready for a child (or another child). Having a baby would dramatically change their life… for the worse.

Mommies… does this break your heart? It breaks mine!

I have 2 kids. They are 15 months apart. I cannot count the amount of times I’ve heard “you have your hands full” or “is it hard?”. Yes! I do have my hands full. Yes! It is hard.

The hard makes it great. The hard makes it worthwhile. The hard makes it beautiful.

Marriage, family and kids are often the butt of jokes in TV, movies and social media. Just the other day, my husband and I were watching a TV show where the men were talking about how horrible it was to watch your wife in childbirth and how she’d never be sexual to them ever again if they saw it. I asked my husband what he thought about that. He said it was hogwash. But we allow these subtle media influences to affect how we feel about kids and families. We are being penetrated with messages telling us that having a family will ruin all of our fun! No wonder these women are scared to have their babies!

So here’s my question to you, mommies and daddies. Are you spreading a message of distress or a message of joy?

When your single or kid-less friends look at your family, do they see your kids are a major inconvenience that they would never want to burden their lives with? Do they hope and pray it’d never happen to them? Are you encouraging the image that kids are going to change their life dramatically, in the worst way?

Here’s my suggestion to you, Pro-Life families. Choose your words carefully. Are you complaining constantly? Choose your actions carefully. Are you always yelling at your kids? Choose your Facebook statuses, Instagram photos and quippy remarks carefully.

Not only will this be a favor to your own kids, but you just might save another kid’s life.

More than Rubies

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