Kayo Revere

Time to share the birth story of our littlest, Kayo Revere Madrid. 

It’s always so interesting to see how each pregnancy is so different. Of course there are similarities, but even so, each time around it’s completely individual and unique. 

I had started having contractions the last two weeks of pregnancy or so. It started with just a couple afternoons with Braxton Hicks, and then increased to every single day, contractions from the afternoon until I went to bed. With the other kids, I think I experienced a total of 4 Braxton Hicks contractions between the two, so this was totally new. 

Even though they were surprisingly strong (not painful, but strong), I eventually stopped paying any attention to them because they were so consistent. 

So finally we arrive at Wednesday, June 16. Officially 39 weeks (which is the most pregnant I have ever been, and I was not stoked about it) and I had a midwife appointment. She reassured me she highly doubted I would be pregnant for much longer, to which I HEARTILY agreed.

Secretly to myself, I really thought it was going to happen that day, but I didn’t say anything because I truly thought it might just be desperate, wishful thinking. 

A quick side note, this was by far my least favorite experience with pregnancy, not to complain, but just to give some insight on why I so desperately wanted to be done with it. 

Anyway. 

The day went on as normal, by mid afternoon the contractions were back and doing their usual thing, and I paid no attention to them whatsoever. We continued on our normal routine of dinner, spending time with the kids and their normal bedtime at 8pm. I showered after the kids went to bed, and still wasn’t thinking much about contractions. I was hoping they’d magically intensify, or my water would break, after the kids went to bed, but they seemed to just steady on.

I had been keeping Sam aware of the contractions every day, just in case something happened, but since it wasn't real labor there hadn’t been much to fuss over. As we were getting ready for bed, I commented that these contractions seemed to be pretty consistently strong, probably the strongest they’d been, but I still couldn’t tell if it was labor. He’s a smart guy and listened to his instincts and decided to not go into work the next morning, just to be safe. We went to bed like usual, so we could hopefully get some sleep if things did progress, although I had very little hope it would. 

As I laid in bed, the contractions were uncomfortable, so around 11pm I got up and just decided to do some small chores and watch a movie until I could fall asleep, or things progressed enough that I could tell it was real labor. So I folded the mountain of laundry that had been sitting around and cleaned up the kitchen. 

Around 1:30am, Sam got up and came out to the living room after realizing I wasn’t in bed. I’m sure it looked like I was obviously in labor as when he came out I was kneeling on the floor with my head resting on my hands on the couch, but it didn’t feel super intense to me, just uncomfortable. He asked if I had called the midwife (I had not), and asked what I thought. I still couldn’t really tell, but suggested we get things ready just to be safe. 

Sam kicked into high gear getting everything set up. He got out the birth box with all the supplies, set up the birth tub, washed our sheets, made the bed and handled everything while I just walked around the living room and kitchen trying to figure out if it was really labor. 

I realize it seems like it should be obvious, being as this is my third baby, but hold on, ok. First of all, it was confusing because the contractions were strong, and uncomfortable, but not so intense that I was positive it was labor. Secondly, their timing was also confusing. They would go from 3 minutes apart, to 10 minutes apart. Then drop down to 1-2 minutes apart, then jump back up to 8 minutes apart. It was really confusing, and I think I was nervous to hope it was really labor, only to find out it was just wishful thinking. Again, I realize this might sound dumb, but I was in the throes of desperate pregnancy brain, so cut me some slack. 

At 3am, I figured I should call my midwife, and just update her, and then we could figure out what to do. So I called her and told her how things were going and that I wasn’t really sure it was labor, but she was great and said she would come check immediately. That gave me some peace of mind, and even though I was still concerned that she would show up only to tell me it was not labor at all, or that it was but I was only a tiny bit dilated and it was going to be a long haul. 

Around 3:45am, everything intensified, and I was finally positive it was for sure labor. It takes my midwife about 40 minutes to an hour to get from her house to mine, and she had told me they would probably be there around 3:55am. It took them a little longer, so 3:55am came and went and I was getting a little nervous she wasn’t going to make it. The next 20 minutes kind of blur together for me, because the contractions were really intense (intense is just a nice word for painful, FYI), and it was impossible to think about anything else. 

For some reason, in my head I had thought I would wait for Karen (midwife) to get there to assess everything before filling up the tub and getting in. This was a rookie mistake. 

By 4:05am I knew things were going to happen quick. Poor Sam was rushing around trying to make sure everything was ready, and probably secretly willing Karen to get there so he wouldn’t have to deliver Kayo. Just kidding, he was solid as a rock, and would’ve handled it like a pro if he had to. 

I was starting to get that feeling like I wasn’t going to be able to do it, that slight panicky feeling, which I realized looking back was for sure transition, although I didn’t realize it at the moment. A really intense (read: painful) contraction hit as I was leaning on the island bar top counter, and I felt a crazy amount of pressure and then a pop and water gushed down my leg. Internally I was like, uh oh, cause I knew it was gonna happen fast and Karen wasn’t there. Literally at that moment, she knocked on the door. Sam let them in and she came in and set her stuff down. She asked me how I was doing and I managed to squeak out that my water had just broken. She said “great! Let’s check you” and turned to get some things out of her bag when I said “I think I need to push.” She said ok, and then things started to fly. She simultaneously called her assistant in from the car, washed her hands and put on gloves, while telling Sam to get my pants off because I hadn’t been able to do that yet. Contractions were hitting super fast, and Karen asked if I knew where I wanted to be. I couldn’t think of anything so I just squatted down right there on the kitchen floor. She went to check me and said “oh ok, well, we’re gonna have a baby. His head is right there. On the next contraction you can push.” 

At some point they put a birth stool under me, and I remember commenting how badly it hurt, which I realize sounds dumb, but in the moment what I really meant was maybe the position wasn’t right. Thankfully, Karen knew what I meant and asked if I wanted to move, but I just figured there was no point. 

For the record, and those who aren’t afraid of TMI, this was the only time I ever experienced the “ring of fire.” So...that’s unpleasant. 

I felt like I was pushing forever, only for Sam to inform me later it was 3 minutes. Let me just say, it felt a lot longer.  

But anyway, 3 minutes and 3 pushes later, Kayo came right out and he was literally perfect. 8lbs, 8oz and 21 inches (my biggest baby) of absolute perfection. 

Our midwife walked in the door at 4:10am and at 4:17am our sweet boy was born. Cutting it a little close, but she made it, and that’s really all I cared about. 

I will say, the home birth experience was amazing and if we have any more babies, I would totally do it again. 

It was awesome to be at home and do things the way we wanted. Thank you Lord for protecting us and for a completely smooth and simple delivery. 

It was so fun to be able to get the bigger kids up like normal in the morning and have them come meet their little brother. It was a totally family-centered experience, and exactly what I wanted, minus not making it into the birth tub. But like I said, that was my own rookie mistake. 

If you’re a mom feel free to reach out if you have any questions about home birth, I’m an open book and love birth. Let me know if I can help ease your mind! 

Abandoned

What makes me feel safe? 

I was thinking about this last night. 

I realized we often look to those around us for safety. We look to family, and friends; they become our refuge when we feel unsafe. When we need a haven or sanctuary, these are the people we turn to. 

And it was like Holy Spirit interrupted me. 

“What if you don’t have that?” 

I stopped. I rely on that safety. That even if people everywhere else don’t like me or write me off, I enjoy the refuge of family and friends that love me and know me. 

But what if I don’t have that? What if the only refuge I have is the Lord. What if the only approval I have is the Lord’s? 

Isn’t that what it’s supposed to be? 

Can I be ok if the only approval I have is His? 

Why is that the last one on my list? 

Let’s be honest. Approval feels good. We like it. It gives us confidence and boosts our ego. 

But I think trouble is quick to follow when we start looking around to see who agrees with us. 

In contrast, abandonment is hard. David talks about this in Psalm 27. In verse 10 he says, “Even if my father and mother abandon me, the Lord will hold me close.”

He was in the midst of it as he wrote these things. 

Jesus was betrayed by Judas, and abandoned in his most crucial hour by those closest to him. 

I’m realizing abandonment is a reality we must learn to live with. We must learn to walk through it and become whole again on the other side. We don’t limp forward, band-aiding up our bullet holes and hoping for the best. We don’t pretend they don’t exist, or act like they don’t hurt. 

We treat the whole wound. We go to the root. 

I’ve been abandoned by many relationships throughout the course of my life. It has been painful every time. Truthfully, it takes years to process this pain and subsequent healing.

It is not immediate. I’m still processing some of them. Still walking out the healing part. 

A few things need to be said about this kind of healing: 

• Forgiveness is everything. There is no healing without forgiveness.“Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others.” Colossians‬ ‭3:13‬ ‭

• Bitterness feels safe and can disguise itself as health- it’s not. Don’t fall for it. “Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor [perpetual animosity, resentment, strife, fault-finding] and slander be put away from you, along with every kind of malice [all spitefulness, verbal abuse, malevolence]. Be kind and helpful to one another, tender-hearted [compassionate, understanding], forgiving one another [readily and freely], just as God in Christ also forgave you.” Ephesians‬ ‭4:31-32‬ ‭

• Real love can overlook offenses because real love forgives. Real love is wise, and real love has boundaries. Real love knows what to guard and what can be given away. “Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.”‭‭ 1 Corinthians‬ ‭13:4-7‬ ‭

Jesus knew that Judas would betray him. He knew his disciples would deny him and leave him. He loved them anyway. He walked with them for the time they were assigned to be close. But Jesus knew in spite of betrayal and denial that the will of the Father was best. That made drinking the cup possible.* 

It made it bearable.

We have to learn that the best approval** we can have is the Lord’s. We have to learn that if everyone around us denies, abandons and forgets us, that He is enough. 

Because denial will happen. Betrayal will happen. 

But it doesn’t have to be the defining wound. It doesn’t have to be the line in the sand where we became jaded and bitter. 

It can be another place in the journey to really becoming holy. To really be like Jesus. 

Don’t give up in the bitter valley. Jesus is there, walking beside, bringing us into true wholeness and healing, if we’ll let him. 

* “Abba, Father,” he cried out, “everything is possible for you. Please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”‭‭ Mark‬ ‭14:36‬ ‭

**“Am I now trying to win the favor and approval of men, or of God? Or am I seeking to please someone? If I were still trying to be popular with men, I would not be a bond-servant of Christ.”

‭‭Galatians‬ ‭1:10‬ ‭AMP‬‬

Essa Mayne

Once again, I write for memory’s sake. I hate the idea of forgetting a moment in time so special and significant. 

We’ll rewind a bit, just to help get in the mindset of where we were. 

The majority of my pregnancy with Essa was really easy. Very little nausea, or discomfort the majority of the time. While fatigue was a constant and heartburn came with a vengeance; there was very little to complain about. 

That is until the last 5-6 weeks. Then it all seemed to kick into high gear. I went from being fine to suddenly being uncomfortable no matter what I did. Sitting, standing, lying down, it didn’t seem to matter; everything was miserable. 

Not to mention, with Sam leaving for a 10 week training academy 6 days after Essa’s due date, I was just ready to be DONE. 

So we’ll fast forward to February 6. To me, it was like every other stinking day going by, without a contraction in sight. At that point I had done everything possible to start labor, from jogging to scrubbing floors on my hands and knees to eating any spicy food I could get my hands on. Nothing seemed to do a thing. 

Sam had come home from work and we were sitting in the living room chatting when all of the sudden, I felt my water break. 

This was quite a different experience than with Lennox, as my water didn’t break until I was in the hospital already well into labor. 

I went to the bathroom just to make sure I hadn’t involuntarily peed myself (pregnancy sucks y’all), and was quite positive my water had broken. I came out and told Sam who sat there for a second before he asked “do we need to go to the hospital right now?” I laughed and said “no way, I’m not even having contractions.” 

So we waited. I finished packing my hospital bag and packed things for Lennox who would be going to spend the night at his grandparent’s house. Contractions started but were really nothing, so I didn’t worry too much. 

A couple hours later we headed into the hospital, handed Lennox off to Grandma (Eleanor), and went to get checked in. 

The nurse who checked us in informed us that it was busy night, and she was not kidding. We sat in triage from somewhere around 9:30pm-11:45pm before finally getting taken back to a room. 

I was rather annoyed because we sat in triage for so long, but mostly that labor did not seem to be progressing in any real way. 

Finally we got settled into our room, and we decided to try to sleep, since we didn’t know how quickly things would go. 

Unfortunately, I only closed my eyes for about 30 minutes before real contractions hit around 12:30am.  

I let Sam sleep as long as I could, but around 2am I woke him up. It was getting too intense to try to distract myself. As usual, he came in clutch and talked to me, told me stories and made me laugh as much as possible. 

I was SO tired around 3am, and momentarily considered getting an epidural just so I could sleep. But I quickly dismissed that thought and determined to stick it out. 

Around 3:55am the nurse came in and checked me and said I was about 7-8 centimeters dilated. She commented that I’d probably be having the baby in about an hour or so. That gave me serious hope. Haha. 

However, I kid you not, about 30 seconds after the nurse walked out of the room I sat up and told Sam “oh my gosh, I need to push.” 

He called the nurse ASAP who booked it back into the room and checked and was shocked to say I was at 10 centimeters. Quick side note, I had no idea you could jump from 7-8 to 10 centimeters in literally 30 seconds flat, but that’s a whole other thing.  The nurse then told me I needed to wait to push until the doctor came. This is my one GIANT frustration with hospital birth. I did not like being told to wait to push, and there was little direction on what to do while I was waiting. I lost track of how I was breathing and commented that my hands were going numb to which I was told “you’re not breathing.” Trying to connect that to something logical whilst being 10 centimeters dilated and told not to push is asking a lot. But somewhere in the midst of that rational thought kicked in and I started taking deep breaths again and the numbness disappeared.  After what seemed like an eternity (I’m sure it wasn’t) the doctor showed up and I got to push. 3 pushes and less than 5 minutes later, our perfect Essa was born. 

She was little and petite and exactly right for us. 

I said two things immediately after seeing her face the first time. The first was “she looks like Lennox!” and the second was “Babe, she is totally Essa.” That might sound dumb, but I like to see their faces before I know for sure if the name we picked out is right. As soon as we saw her, we knew her name was exactly right. 

All in all, it was a very simple birth. No complications, tears or anything else. Just funny, because it went so slow until it didn’t. There was nothing until it kicked in, and then it was high gear. I rather imagine that’s like our Essa girl. 

We'll Tell Them

I sat for a quiet moment today, just thinking about things. Babies asleep, sweet and peaceful.
I've wondered what to say, or share these days. Everyone seems quick to speak and share opinions. But as we stare this new disease in the face and the world seemingly closes in on itself...I don't care to be frivolous with words.

To be sure, this is an old enemy we're facing. Sure, the disease is new. But our enemy is not. He never is. So we don't have to be afraid. We know this enemy has been defeated. But it's up to us to obey the word of the Lord. We won't fear.
The Lord is not shocked by Coronavirus, or earthquakes, or fires, or floods, or anything else.
He doesn't fall off of His throne.

So as I sat quietly today, I thought about my kids. And someday, when they're older, we'll tell them about all this. They're innocent and unaware now, but someday we'll tell them about this. We'll tell them about the year the world changed. We'll tell them how it shifted us, and changed us. We'll tell them how our collective priorities changed. We'll tell them how our lives were altered in the course of a moment.
But most of all, we'll tell them about what the Lord did. We'll tell them about who He was in the midst. We'll tell them how He was faithful. We'll tell them how He sustained us. We'll tell them how He was near. We'll tell them how He was good. We'll tell them how He was kind. We'll tell them how He loved us. We'll tell them how He never changed, not even a little. We'll tell them about His peace, that truly passes all understanding.
We'll tell them how we leaned in closer than ever before, and we'll tell them how He led us.

And honestly, I can't wait. I can't wait to tell them about the world they grew up in. I can't wait to show them that our God is the God of then and now. The same, always. Every story in His word isn't just who He was, it's who He is NOW. I can't wait to tell them that He can be trusted, even when we don't understand.

Really, all I'm saying is, we're living in the times we're going to tell our children about.
So let's open our eyes wide, and ask the Lord to show us all the things we need to see.


We will not hide these truths from our children;
we will tell the next generation about the glorious deeds of the Lord,
about his power and his mighty wonders. 
Psalm 78:4

Spark

We don’t believe the lies 

We don’t let them in 

We won’t let fear beat us 

We know it loses in the end 

We won’t give up in the battle 

We have the fighter spark 

We won’t run away in the losses 

We don’t lose faith in the dark 

We’ll hold our ground steady 

We sing our victory song loud 

We follow the fire 

And hold firm for the cloud 

We’ll believe beyond reason 

Even with darkness covering 

We’ll hold onto Your goodness 

Even when nothing is all we’ve seen  

We’ve walked in the valley 

And through the deep of night 

We keep moving forward 

Because this is faith- not sight 

We may not know what’s next 

It’s not for us to see 

But we’ll trust You more than ever 

As You make us who were meant to be 

Drift Away

I see you drifting far away

Far from where we are 

I wonder why you drift away 

Headed for a different star 

I see you drifting far away 

There’s nothing to be done 

I’ll watch you as you drift away 

Until the light is gone 

I see you drifting far away 

As you sing a different song 

I still see you drifting far away 

Choices pulling you along 

I see you drifting far away 

As far as I can see  

You keep drifting far away  

Far away from me 

I see you drifting far away

No more tears to cry 

Forever drifting far away 

I’ll always wonder why 

I see you drifting far away 

What’s left is running dry 

You’re still drifting far away 

Into a different sky 

I see you drifting far away 

The end is coming now 

I wish you wouldn’t drift away 

I can’t stand to watch you drown

Drift away my little star

There’s nothing left to be 

Farewell, my little star

Someday come back home to me 

Frustration

My heart, O God, is steadfast, my heart is steadfast; I will sing and make music.

Psalm 57:7

I’m so thankful for scripture. It’s a refuge in every season. It rights our perspective, comforts our hurts, shifts our attitude, humbles our pride, and brings us back to where we need to be: a submitted heart. 

IF we’ll let it. 

Today I found myself dealing with frustrations. Circumstances, people, you name it. 

So I went to the Word, and I went to prayer. Because, well, that’s all I know how to do. 

I simply told the Lord, “I’m frustrated. And I don’t know what to do.” 

And as I just stood in silence for a few moments I felt the Lord remind me that the biggest frustration I’m dealing with is ME. 

My own expectations. I want MY way. I know best. I have the answers. 

This is the real problem. Not the other people. 

I felt the Lord remind me to just be faithful. To serve. To do so with JOY. 
Because this is what the Lord is presenting me with. 

He’s not extending me the opportunity to have my way or fix the problems. 

The opportunity he’s giving me is to faithfully serve, with joy. That’s it. 

It's actually a simple thing. And I'm always reminded of 2 Kings, where Naaman is told to go wash in the river and he almost refuses until his servant says "If the prophet had told you a difficult thing, wouldn't you have done it?" 

Why do we always reject the simple thing? 
But I digress.

You know what happened next? 

All the frustration disappeared. 

It’s not that it won’t come back. It will. But then I can CHOOSE to be self-disciplined. I can CHOOSE not to be frustrated. I can CHOOSE to joyfully fulfill my assignment in this season: EVEN IF IT’S NOT THE ONE I WANT. 

It really is a choice. 

Is it easy? No. 

Fun? Not always. 

Does it bring accolades or spotlights? No. 

But that's not what we're here for. We're here to serve.

Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said, "Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and the servant of all." 
Mark 9:35