7 Quick Takes Friday (vol. 24)
Here she is!

Our little baby “Joy.” She arrived Monday afternoon weighing 6 lbs. 7 oz. and was 19 inches long.
The short version of the birth story: The induction began around 8:00am. The combination of being sick with a sinus infection and frequent interruptions from people coming in and out made pain management difficult, so I went ahead and asked for the epidural around noon, even though contractions weren’t too bad yet.
Unfortunately the epidural didn’t get full coverage. There was a spot about eight inches in diameter on my lower right side where there was zero pain coverage.
The anesthesiologist obviously felt bad about it, so she added more medication to try to get it covered. Didn’t work. She added more and more medication but we couldn’t get that spot anesthetized. We did, however, get the rest of my lower body anesthetized to oblivion — at one point I saw the nurse set something big down on the bed and I realized with a jolt that it was my freaking leg. I lost all sensation, even pressure, in all my lower body except that one “hot spot.”
Being completely unable to move any of my lower body while experiencing the pain of pictosin-induced transition contractions will not go down as one of my favorite childbirth memories (though I did offer it up). As a sort of anesthesiology consolation prize, the anesthesiologist asked if I wanted some straight-up narcotics to “take the edge off.” I told her dump that and every other kind of pain-killing substance she had into my IV. As promised, the “edge” was taken off — along with any other possible care I might have had in the world.
The baby arrived a little bit later around 2:15 and, due to some combination of the narcotics and the grace of God, I didn’t have any of the stress I typically have in the first few hours postpartum. I was just thrilled to meet her and overwhelmed with happiness.
I can’t thank you enough for all of your prayers. When I was going through all the pain after the failed epidural I thought of how many people were praying for me and it really gave me great comfort. Also, my husband and I have both noticed a certain peace that’s come with this baby, even through the inevitable ups and downs of the first few days, and I think that your prayers have a lot to do with that.
I am so impressed with Care Calendar. It’s a free online service that lets people coordinate with one another about bringing someone meals. A dear friend set one up for us, and it’s been so handy to be able to log in and see who’s bringing us what for dinner and when. It’s also helpful to our friends to know when we need meals and what other people have already made. I highly recommend bookmarking it to use next time someone you know needs some help!
Also, I can’t believe how helpful it’s been to have dinner taken care of every night. I knew it would be nice, but I’ve been blown away by just how much it helps us to enjoy this time that we don’t have to think about what to fix for dinner.
Breastfeeding is going amazingly well in terms of pain. In one side the pain is about a 9 on a scale of 1-10 (better than a 10!), but on the other it’s only about a 4! This is unprecedented and unbelievable — I daresay miraculous. I think it’s due in some combination to:
- Your prayers.
- The Saint Diet. One of the drastic changes I’ve seen in my body since cutting out sugary and processed foods a couple months ago is that I’m less inflamed and sensitive generally.
- Approaching latch with even greater ninja-like precision than usual.
I still have major low milk supply issues as I have with every other baby, so I’m pumping and taking herbs to deal with that. I’m thrilled that the pain is better though!
New life brings out the weirdest behavior in people. On the one hand, everyone we’ve been around this week has been raving about what a beautiful, precious blessing our new little girl is. On the other hand, more than one person has expressed horror at the idea of future children — I don’t mean something like “it would be difficult to have another one too soon”; I mean if you saw a video of their face you’d think they had just heard about some horrific crime against humanity.
One person asked if we’re done, and when I said we’d like some space but that we almost certainly would have more children eventually, her face contorted into a look of disgust. She leaned forward and asked pointedly, “WHY?!” Yet moments earlier she was wiping a tear out of her eye while gazing at the baby.
I understand people feeling like more children would be too difficult for various reasons, but what puzzles me is the downright vitriolic reaction that some people have to the idea of future kids. Weird.
I am sooooo excited: as soon as we can get out, I’m having my husband take me out for a SUSHI EATING EXTRAVAGANZA. I have been craving sushi for nine months and haven’t been able to eat any of the raw fish, so our next date night (with baby in tow) is going to consist of me eating embarrassing amounts of food at our favorite Japanese restaurant.
(After I wrote this it occurred to me that planning to be gluttonous during Lent is not my most spiritually mature move ever. Hmm. I might need to re-think this plan.)
I look forward to reading your posts!
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photo by Alexandre Chang
7 Quick Takes Friday (vol. 22)
We have a date! Labor for baby #4 is scheduled to be induced the morning of Monday, March 2. That’s just a week from Monday!
One thing I’ve never gotten used to is that with induced labor you pick your child’s birthday. That seems so strange. Back before my clotting disorder diagnosis I had my first child with midwives outside of a hospital setting, and I loved being able to do everything completely naturally. I’ve come to terms with most every part of having a high-risk, induced hospital birth, except for the picking the day part.
I have to say, I do like the day: Texas Independence Day, which commemorates the date in 1836 when Texas declared independence from Mexico and became an independent country. Maybe some unknown patron saint of Texans prayed for a good date (like last time).
I’ve been toying with the idea of liveblogging during labor on Twitter (or would that be “livetwittering”? “livetweeting”?)
Unfortunately I don’t know if I’d have access to wireless internet, and I missed an opportunity to find out. This morning I had an appointment with my obstetrician where we went over the induction process again, and then he asked me if I had any questions. Since this is my fourth birth and third induction I couldn’t think of any labor-related to ask about, and I felt like it would be just too unbelievably nerdy if my only question for him was, “Does the labor and delivery room have wi-fi?”
I wept tears of joy when I came across this article in the Wall Street Journal. Finally, I have found my people!
All my life I have felt misunderstood in regards to my feelings about cilantro. People hear me say that I “hate” it and they think that I mean to say that it’s simply a food that I don’t care for, in the same way that I really don’t like the taste of raw onions or ham.
Nay, when I sense cilantro on my tongue, it goes far beyond mere recognition that this is the worst taste known to mankind. It goes beyond just wishing that I didn’t have tastebuds so that I’d never be exposed to such a culinary assault ever again. Rather, I am filled with the knowledge that this herb is an abomination and see immediately that it is an affront to human dignity that we allow it to coexist on the earth with us.
It has been my great delight to find so many anti-cilantro websites, including online communities and even a poetry page where people who feel inspired to pen haikus expressing their loathing of this green scourge can have an outlet for their work (some profanity at that last link although, really, if you’ve ever tasted cilantro you know that they can’t help it).
Want to read two really interesting comment threads? I came across these when I was looking around in the archives for something else and just had to share.
- I wrote a post in 2006 talking about how I didn’t fully understand how/why Christ’s sacrifice could be payment for my sins since I didn’t do anything there — it wasn’t my sacrifice to give. “How do I make Christ’s sacrifice my own?” I asked. Here’s the discussion that followed.
- Here’s a follow-up discussion about why God doesn’t prove himself to us with on-demand miracles and why Jesus didn’t stick around in human form for all the ages.
Interesting, huh?
I feel like my city has finally jumped the shark in terms of political correctness.
A while back I was reading one of the local freebie family magazines in a doctor’s office and came across an article called The Importance of Fatherhood. In a moment of great naivete I forgot that I lived in Austin and thought this author might offer un-P.C. insights about what it means to be a man and men’s roles in family life. The article started off well, but then the author felt the need to throw in the caveat:
I don’t mean in any way to disparage nontraditional families…I’m not out to insult partners, co-parents, significant others, poly-amorous spouses or anyone else.
Poly-amorous spouses?! I feel like we, as a city, need to take a step back and think long and hard about the fact that poly-amorous lifestyles are now on the list of legitimate, healthy family structures that we need to tiptoe around when we speak about marriage and family life.
My energy level is so drastically improved from doing the Saint Diet stuff (the details of which I hope to post about soon) that I keep forgetting that I’m pregnant. Yesterday I was in the store, lifting my three squirming toddlers in and out of the grocery cart, and caught myself wondering why I felt slightly achy. Then I remembered: oh, yeah, I’m 37 weeks pregnant! Honestly, I feel so great that it’s easy to forget, even at this stage of pregnancy. (That has not traditionally been my experience of late third trimester!)
I look forward to reading your posts!
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7 Quick Takes Friday (vol. 21)
I’m sitting here, looking from the box of clutter in the corner of our living room that’s been there for weeks to the myriad stains on the carpet, waiting for the nesting instinct to kick in. Waiting…waiting…
Speaking of which, my doctor mentioned in passing today that we’ll probably schedule labor to be induced two weeks from Monday. ONLY TWO WEEKS?! It seems like it was just yesterday that I was writing this post talking about my nervousness about a brand new pregnancy. Even though I still have tinges of apprehension about handling four kids under age five, I’m excited to meet the new little one!
One of the interesting things about blogging is when you come across off-site discussions about your blog where the participants talk amongst themselves about your posts. It’s always an educational experience to see completely uncensored feedback about what you write — all the more so, I’ve found, on the not infrequent occasions when atheist forums link to something I’ve written. It’s no surprise that the consensus is typically that my writing not only drivel but indicative of amoeba-level intelligence, but what is rather fascinating is the sheer energy level that tends to be behind their opinions of my little site. Here’s a typical example, a recent discussion of one of my posts from last week (scroll down to see the comments, though be warned that there’s some profanity).
Anyway, I find that links like this from atheist forums always bless me with excellent opportunities to practice humility.
Every time I watch Top Chef I feel the uncontrollable urge to pick up the phone and call Bravo and pitch them the concept of a Top Housewife competition. I’m telling you, it would be HUGE (meaning: I would like it). I have this all figured out. Here’s how the first episode would go:
WARM-UP CONTEST (winner receives immunity for elimination challenge)
A series of timed skills tests where the last person to finish is eliminated:
- Fold 10 king-sized fitted bed sheets into perfect squares with smooth edges.
- Match up pairs of socks from a bucket of 500 mismatched socks that are all the same color but different sizes.
- Craft a Faberge egg to specification while holding an angry octopus in one hand and reciting the Gettysburg Address while someone screams in your ear. (This one inspired by how I feel about fives times a day.)
ELIMINATION CHALLENGE
Since it might violate various laws to include real children in this series, the conditions of having multiple young children will be approximated with various similar stimuli:
Contestants have 60 minutes to get a living room and kitchen completely ready for formal company. Prior to the episode, 12 drunk interns will have been turned loose to have a kegger and a massive food fight on the site. During the challenge, trained monkeys will be sent in to cling to contestants’ legs; a door leading to a room full of angry bees will automatically open at frequent intervals and need to be shut; the phone will ring constantly and contestants will have to answer and respond to trivia questions; and at random intervals a box full of toys will be dumped in the middle of the living room floor. Oh, and because it’s my concept, there will be scorpions involved too.
OK, so now that I’ve typed it all out I see that it might not be the biggest ratings draw in the history of television or anything…but, hey, I would watch it!
There seems to be a small but vocal contingent of people on the internet who have strong feelings about the words healthy and healthful. I’ve received more than one note on the topic, I saw that someone left a similar comment for Kelly the Kitchen Kop, and I’ve seen it other places as well. These folks claim that it’s incorrect to say, for example, “I ate a healthy meal,” saying that it should be “I ate a healthful meal” instead.
Now I’m all confused because, according to Merriam-Webster, healthy can mean “conducive to health.” If that’s the case, then wouldn’t it be a correct use of the word to say, “I ate a healthy meal”? If there are any language experts out there, please weigh in! I’ve been using the term a lot lately with my diet talk so I’m very curious.
An email from my dad from this week:
I know you lie in bed at night and wonder how center lines and other road stripes and signs reflect the headlights. Here’s a shot of a gate sign being created:

They put down a heavy coat of yellow paint and immediately the guy in the blue jacket spreads ground up glass on the paint. The glass is about like beach sand. They said that for long stripes, the paint truck spays the line then there’s a glass sprayer right behind the paint sprayer.
Proving that we are not only cheap but unromantic, my husband and I have actually considered making our official St. Valentine’s Day celebration a few days after the 14th so that it’d be easier to get restaurant reservations and we could get cards and gifts on clearance.
I could just see us gushing about our romantic St. Gilbert of Sempringham dinner or the lovely card (marred just slightly by the big 80% OFF CLEARANCE sticker) that I got my husband for Conrad of Piacenza’s Day.
I look forward to reading your posts!
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7 Quick Takes Friday (vol. 20)
I was speechless after reading Michael Dubruiel’s last column, written on Monday, the day before he unexpectedly passed away while working out at the gym. Go read it here: “None of us knows what the future holds…”
Lent is just a couple weeks away. If any of you have blogs and are looking for something tech-related to give up, I recommend considering closing comments and stats but continuing blogging. Though I don’t think I’m going to do it this year, I’ve done it for the past two years and have found it to be extremely fruitful in terms of having a healthy relationship with blogging. The reason I think it helped me more to close comments and continue to write rather than just not blog at all is this:
With comments closed and no Sitemeter stats, with every post I had to ask myself: What is my goal in writing this?
When I first started my little feedback fast it became strikingly clear that too often the real answer was that I wanted comments or links. By the end of Lent I could honestly say that I was just writing what I felt called to write, the main “payoff” just bringing glory to God and hopefully adding something nice to the blogosphere. It really changed my motivation for blogging.
Very, very big news over here: I finally found a fiction book I can read!
For some reason I have this bizarre mental block against fiction. For the past few years I’ve tried to get over it multiple times by picking up “even people who don’t like fiction like this!” books like Harry Potter or This House of Brede. No luck. I just couldn’t get into them.
But I finally found one that I enjoyed so much that I devoured it in four days last week. I’ll leave you hanging and just say that I’ll review it soon.
This morning I had yet another amazing meeting with my spiritual director. One of the many things that came up that I feel like I need to ponder more in the coming weeks is a passing comment she made after we’d been talking about the subjects of anxiety and then detachment:
“What you’re worried about is what you’re attached to,” she said.
It was one of those moments of being the exact thing that I needed to hear at just the right time. I thought back on something that had been stressing me out all morning, and realized that the real reason for my stress is that I’m way too attached to having that particular thing in my life. Lots to think and pray about.
Speaking of detachment (or lack thereof), I had to laugh at myself about the Culture 11 Ladyblog Awards a couple weeks ago. I had been trying not to get too hung up on my site’s performance in the Best Religion Blog category. They didn’t publish votes as they came in, so I had no idea how I was doing. I was doing a pretty good job of being detached about it…then, the day before the results were going to be out, I suddenly had this idea that, “I might have won! That would be really cool!” Peaceful ambivalence somehow gave way to “detachment is nice, but winning ROCKS,” and I anxiously checked the results page multiple times the next day.
Instead of the results, perhaps with a big “Yay! Conversion Diary #1 Bestest Religion Blog EVER!” banner at the top as my egotistical fantasies might have pictured, I see this: Culture 11 went out of business they day after all the votes were in. We’ll never know who won.
Point taken, Lord. Point taken.
I gave up coffee in the most ridiculous way last week: I was too tired to make coffee one morning, so I decided to just quit drinking it altogether.
I had cut down to just one small cup a day during pregnancy and had been toying with the idea as part of the Saint Diet, but it was still a rough transition to undertake on five minute’s notice. I have to say, though, I do feel much better without it.
This weekend I’m excited to be going to a blogger get-together that includes the Darwins, Melanie and Dom Bettinelli, Betty Beguiles and Literacy-Chic. I’ve met quite a few bloggers in person, and I never cease to be amazed at how much people’s true personalities really do come across in their blog. So far I’ve never had a bad experience meeting someone whose blog I enjoy. I’m looking forward to getting together with everyone tomorrow.
Anyone else have any fun weekend plans?
I look forward to reading your posts!
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