Blueberry Banana Bread

I absolutely love banana bread, and a couple years ago I started making a fool-proof recipe (seriously, has never failed once). Fabian is also a huge fan, and seriously, sometimes we just let the bananas go bad so we have an excuse to make some banana bread. Yesterday it was cool enough to actually turn the oven on, and since I had eaten the last of the cereal (oops) we were in need of some breakfast food (which in our house, banana bread turns into breakfast, snacks, and dessert. Hence, half the loaf is already gone in the picture). We also had some fresh blueberries on hand, so we had a little science project in the kitchen and it ended terrific. This bread is super moist, with just the right amount of sweetness. Seriously scrumptious, and, obviously, almost gone. 

Blueberry Banana Bread

3 overripe  (black) Bananas

1/3 cup coconut oil

1/2 cup sugar

2 Eggs

1 tsp vanilla

1/2 tsp baking soda

1 1/2 cups flour

1 cup fresh blueberries

Preheat oven to 350°F and grease loaf pan. Melt oil and mix with Bananas, sugar, eggs, vanilla, and baking soda. Add in flour and stir until all ingredients are wet. Fold in blueberries. Pour batter into prepared loafpan and bake for 1 hour, or until inserted toothpick comes out clean. Let cool in pan for 15minutes, then turnout onto cooling rack or cutting board. Serve warmed or cooled, with coffee or milk, or however you like it. Enjoy!

6 Things Noone Told Me About Postpartum (and I really wish they had...)

Yesterday baby girl and I had our follow-up appointment with the birthcenter. The way they do it at the Minnesota Birth Center is a little different than the hospital. It's more of a group aftercare. Think 2016 Call the Midwife style. Women are encouraged to come between 1-2 weeks postpartum. There a midwife meets with the new mom, 1-on-1 to discuss any personal postpartum concerns. In addition they weigh baby, check mom's blood pressure, and follow up with any concerns that we're raised during birth or at the 24-hour home visit.
Afterwards they have a group discussion. During the group, one of the moms said, "they have so many childbirth classes, but no one prepares you for postpartum." This lead me to here where I'm about to put my two-cents on what I wish I would have known about postpartum. Mind you, I can only speak from my own experience, which was an all-natural, meds-free, back-home-4-hours-later birth. I also knew I would bleed afterwards, had my freezer stocked with padcicles (menstrual pads soaked in witch hazel, aloe vera, and lavender; then frozen), and I expected to be tired. So no here are the things I didn't know, and really wish I had.

1. Breastfeeding Hurts
I had no idea that the first week would hurt...and that's normal. Chapped nipples. Blistering....all normal...why does not one tell you this is normal? (Probs because they don't want to scare more new moms into using formula, but still). Every blog and class I went to talked about how if it's painful, you're doing it wrong. They also talked about the horrors of mastitis, clogged milk ducts, poor latch, etc, etc. So new mom with chapped nipples, maybe one has a blister? Yeah I freaked out a little bit and maybe went a little into crisis mode. I called my WIC Lactation coach (they didn't get back to me), I called LA Leche League (again was told my baby probably had poor latch), and finally I called my mom. I've said it once, I'll say it again, seriously, Mom knows everything. (More on that later...) When I called her up and explained the situation, she calmly said "this is normal." What?! Why had no one ever told me? She then explained what is not normal is if sore chapped nipples last more than a week, and if it looks like your baby is literally eating off your nipple (a little graphic, but it help makes a point). I grabbed my nipples balm and decided to wait it out. Sure enough, baby and I have this breastfeeding thing figured out.....now if I could just figure out away to get her to sleep more than two hours without needing to eat....

2. Mom May Just Be Your Best Source of Advice
I know that not everyone has a great relationship, if any relationship, with their mom. However, if you at least have an OK relationship with your mom, I'd say this totally applies. Put down the What To Expect The First Year and sign-off that parenting forum page, because the closest your going to get to knowing how to raise your baby, maybe from raising you as a baby. Think about it. This little bundle of love has your genes in its little body, which means it's probably a lot like you, and if not, it's probably a lot like your partner. So give your mom and/or suegra  (Spanish for Mother-in-law) a call. So far my mom has been right on from breastfeeding, to the baby cues. And if that's not the case for you, at least you've probably made her day. After all, she was in your shoes with you however-many years ago. Appreciation is the least you can give her now. So give mom a call.

3. Stitches Itch
In my case, during delivery, I had a little bit of tearing in my lady bits. It wasn't severe, actually pretty mild.  All the same, they needed stiches. No one told me how bad they would itch. I talked to the midwife at our follow-up appointment, and she said "that's normal and good, but there's nothing you can really do about it." So if you have any damage down under, don't expect a smooth ride. They will itch like someone let a hill of ants loose down there and there's nothing you can do about it. Don't touch, don't scratch. Just take a warm bath and sit on ice packs. That's what I've been told. Neither fully resolves the issue, but the bath helps with healing and the ice numbs it for a bit. So good luck with those stiches. Soooooo sorry if we're in the same boat.

4. You'll be exhausted for weeks
I don't know why I needed this explained to me, but now I know the necessity of maternity leave. Also, why hasn't the US switched over to mandatory paid maternity leave? Now that I'm here, I think that's a joke. Postpartum is exhausting. And yes, sure, I thought I'd be down for a couple days. But a couple weeks? No way! Call me silly, but I figured, since I had a non-medicated, natural birth, recovery would be like when you catch the flu. You drink your orange juice, sleep it off, and in about a week you're as good as new. Nope. Not the same. Here I am: 1 week, 6 days postpartum and I think someone should bake me a cake and throw a party everytime I make it out of the house. Congrats to me for making it to a doctor appointment, but don't expect me to wear much more than sweatpants. If you see me in a long skirt, remember it feels like I'm wearing NO pants. Despite the look of extra effort; rest assured, on those days, I'm feeling extra lazy.

5. You don't eat for 2 during pregnancy, you eat for 2 while breastfeeding

I kid you not, every thought of dieting postpartum has vanished. Reasoning? I am hungry all the time. They say that you're eating for 2 while pregnant? That's a lie. You eat for 2 while breastfeeding. And from what I've learned through classes and books, science seems to back this up. During the Healthy Pregnancy class my husband and I took through Everyday Miracles, the teacher explained to us that "during pregnancy the baby kind of knows what it needs, and will take from the mother's body what it needs." In other words, eat plenty so that you don't get malnourished, because baby will take in what it needs and you get the leftovers. However, in breastfeeding, you actually get to see how this tiny human is living off of you. In my case, they're eating every 2 hours round the clock, and that milk is coming from me. She's growing quick (she gained about 1 pound in a week). All of those nutrients are coming from my body, and the bigger she gets, the more nutrients she needs. So I'm trying to eat healthy for her and for me, but let's face it, regardless of what I eat, I am hungry all the time. For example, this last week my husband and I took my parents on an outing to Rodizios. For those of you not familiar with Rodizios, it is a meat feast. My husband and I only eat there on special occasions (in this case we were celebrating Father's Day).
We also only eat small snacks all day, because we are really saving ourselves for the meat. So we ate light all day. We went to Rodizios, and we ate nothing, but meat for about an hour. Steak. Chicken. Picanha. Mmmm. Needless to say, I was full by the time we left. In fact, a safer term may be engorged. I was so full that I looked like I was pregnant again and waddled out of the restaurant. That's what happens when you eat at Rodizios. What happens when you eat at Rodizios while breastfeeding? You drive home, feed the baby, and within half-an-hour you're hungry again. I'm glad I have a husband that humors me, and buys me icecream on these occasions (admittedly not the healthiest choice, but what's a nursing girl to do?).

6. You'll Be Afraid To Poop
I know, this seems a little off color, but it's true, and I wanted to prepare others for the worst. It's terrifying, mentally and physically. But here's the thing, you're body has been traumatized. I know, I know, it just gave life to the most beautiful  little thing you've ever laid eyes on. Also, your body is made to do this.  But, let's also be real: it's the biggest thing you've ever pushed out of your body. And it's the last thing your body told you to push out. It's ok that your body (and mind)  is a little freaking out about pushing anything else out of any where. However, it's got to come out sometime. So eat some humble pie, and grab the stool softener. Especially if you hemorrhaged and are on an iron supplement postpartum, grab the stool softener. You can do this!

Granted it's only been about 2 weeks, and I'm sure there are more surprises to come. Everyday baby girl is full of more fun and personality than I ever imagined. Though postpartum recovery has had its hiccups and surprises, she's totally worth it. Hope this is helpful to all my readers, whether for a laugh or to prep for what's to come. Would love to see some comments on what things were unexpected from your postpartum journey.
Q

Our Birth Story

Most birth stories start the day that labor kicks into gear. How the contractions started. The rush to the hospital. Maybe a blizzard or rush hour traffick that ensued. Or the many methods attempted to induce labor, resulting in a  final water break. Our story does not start like that. Instead it starts nearly a month earlier at childbirth class.

We had been taking childbirth classes through a nonprofit in the cities for the past 7 weeks. The classes were once-a-week for 8 weeks, discussing all topics from how to have a healthy pregnancy to what post partum should look like. They were set up on a rotation, and you could join any time.  This was our last class: The Nuts and Bolts of Labor. This class was  supposed to tell us everything we could expect when the big day arrived. We sat, patiently waiting with 3 other couples and a handful of nursing students. The class was supposed to start at 6pm and it was already 6:15. The teacher was yet to arrive. So we all sat there, discussing how long we should wait before we decide she's probably not coming. The classes run for 2 hours. So we decided to give her an hour.
6:30...6:45...7. Still, no maestra. One at a time we all gathered up our purses and waddled (because that's what pregnant women do) out to the parking lot, into our cars, and drove home.

The next day we recieved an e-mail from the organization saying how profusely sorry they were for the mistake, how they were handling the situation, and how they hoped to see us at the next class. All this was great. Except it was 3 weeks until our guess date and the next time the class would be offered was 8 weeks away. I was definitely having this baby before I'd have a chance to take this class again. I emailed the organization back, explaining the situation, and asking if I could get the class notes or if they had any other resources available. No reply. So that left me to the Internet, more specifically, You Tube. And everyone knows how clear and accurate the Internet is.

3 weeks later and 3 days, I was 3 days overdue. So armed with my You Tube knowledge of labor and delivery, I decided to go walk the mall. We live about 5 minutes from the Mall of America, and they have mile markers, letting mall walkers know how many miles they've gone. I read (again on the Internet) that 6 miles was the magic number to kick-start labor. So I walked....and I walked...and I walked...and I walked, until I had reached 6 miles, and after that I had errands to run. So all in all I probably walked about 8 miles, all with no signs of labor. One of my errands was an appointment at the Birth Center where the midwife let me know it was normal for first-timers to be about a week and a half late. Once optimistic to not be a statistic, I was now losing hope.

I went home, ready to embrace another week of pregnancy. However, the next day I woke up to "period cramps" and blood in the toilet. My first thoughts? "Dear God, all that walking hurt my baby!"
So I called the midwife on call, terrified that something was wrong. I explained the situation and they reassured me, that I'd simply lost my "mucus plug," (if you don't know what that is, don't Google it. Just don't).  They also advised that I should go to work, because labor could still be 2 weeks away. I drove to work, again embracing another week of labor.

5:45 am the next morning, I woke with unfamiliar cramps in my back and pelvis. Exhausted, but figuring I just needed to pee, I got up, used the bathroom and went back to bed, but the cramps persisted. As 7 am rolled around, the thought finally occurred to me, "are these real contractions?" The cramps came and went. How close were they together?
5-1-1. Every 5 minutes-1 minute long -for 1 hour. This was the real deal!...or so I assumed.

We weren't supposed to actually head towards the birth center until contractions were 3-1-1, but I was told to call and give the midwife a heads up.
I dialed the number, waited, and finally the phone picked up "Hello," our midwife's voice chimed. I explained to her about the contractuons, and as expected, she recommended to relax, take a bath, and try to sleep. If it was real labor I'd need my energy, if not the contractions would subside in a few hours of R&R (rest and relaxation).

So I did just that, a little hopefule, but not too optimistic. After all, if these weren't real contractions, labor could still be about a week away. I had accepted this. However, thr contractions persisted.  I texted our doula and she let me know to call her when I needed her. This may be just the beginning, but she'd be there when I needed.

Now let me tell you a little bit about our doula. And for those of you, who are not familiar with that term, a doula is basically a birth advocate. They're a person who's there for you throughout the birth, speaking up for your birth plan, and making sure your voice is heard throughout contractions. As any woman whose had a natural birth knows, when you have a strong contraction, you literally don't have a voice, and a doula can be a tool of success. Our doula was very special and exactly who we needed. I truly believe the Lord sent her to us. She is a tall, blonde, military-trained woman who loves Jesus. When you you get into the natural health realm that can be a little difficult to find. Someone who loves Jesus, that tis. With a lot of natural health coming from Eastern Philosophy, there tends to be a crossing into the Eastern Spirituality, just because of the nature of Eastern Cultures. In the West we really like to segregate our spiritual life from our physical life. In Eastern philosophy it's intertwined, which I love, and it's why I love natural medicine. However, I also chose to be mindful of where that Spirituality is rooted (for me, it all has to be founded in Jesus). So when I met our doula, and not only learned that she loved Jesus, was going on a missions trip to Latin America just weeks after our guess date, and felt the Lord had called her to be a doula, I knew that the Lord had placed her in our lives. And she was really there for us, especially when contractions began to pick-up their pace. 

Contractions didn't pick up until the minute Fabian walked through the door. And that's when things really began to take off.

4-1-1.I called my mom and asked if she could order us some Chinese take-out, so at least Fabian would have something to eat. More than happily, she did, she even ordered us cheesecake for dessert. The food arrived, and I could barely eat. Which meant Fabian couldn't eat, because he was by my side every minute. Every four minutes I would drop to the floor, hands and knees, trying to remember what they said about breathing. I couldn't think, but new it was time to call our doula. I called and she was there in minutes, hair in a long braid, dinosaur shirt to lighten the mood, and ready for anything. I really don't think I would have survived without her. She was also the one who suggested we head to the birthcenter.

3-1-1. We called the midwife-on-call, to let her know we were on our way. She said there was another birth taking place, so when we got there we may have to wait for someone to come to the door. At this point, I didn't care. I just needed to leave the house. I also thought I had another 12-18 hours to go. Remember, I was armed with Internet knowledge, so the best I knew was that active labor didn't start until you reached the birth center. Little did I know, I had probably been in active labor most of the day (our doula would clue me into that after the fact).
Quickly, or as quick as we could when you have a charlie horse in your uterus every 3 minutes, we grabbed our labor bag and headed to the car.
5 contractions and a not-so-scrupulous car

ride later, we were pulling into the only open parking spot. Thank God it was right by the front door. Also, the nurse was ready to let us in as soon as we rang the door bell. We walked in the room, put all our bags down, and the nurse encouraged us to relax and get comfortable. Plan A was to have a waterbirth. So at this point I could have got in the labor tub. Plan B...well, we didn't really have a Plan B until this point where I realized I was too exhausted to do anything, but curl up on the bed and sleep between contractions. Needless to say, we used plan B.  All the while, our awesome doula prayed through every contraction (which was such a soothing sound and incredible blessing) and Fabian curled up on the bed next to me.

Sleeping, crying, and being coached on how to breathe. Suddenly the contractions changed.  A shudder went through my body. What was that? The next contraction hit... the same different. I told our doula, and she asked me what I meant. Suddenly, the realization hit me "I think I need to push." All the nurses and the midwife  were in the other room, assisting the other mama bring life into the world.
"OK, just stay calm," our doula coached, and started explaining what the next faze may look like. More contractions came, still feeling the sensation. Suddenly little baby cries erupted from the other room. And they must have been cutting the umbilcal cord as our baby girl was getting ready to crown.
Our doula went to grab the birth team.
As they came in, they seemed amazed. My water still hadn't broke, but was being born along with our baby.
The midwife described "it kind of looks like a water balloon." She paused. "Do you want to touch it?"
Are you kidding me? As calm as could be "Just get it out."
Baby's head began to crown.
Pop.
Water broke. 
Baby being born.
2 steps forward. 1 step back.
Final push.
Cries erupted in our room as a tiny wet baby girl was placed on my belly. Her head snuggle against my chest and crying ceased as my heart beat entered her tiny ears once again. "Hola," I whispered.
Her big black eyes popped open wide to greet me, and I knew I had never loved anything or anyone more in my entire life. My heart was full as Papí (as Fabian was now officially a Papí) cut the umbilical cord. Big black eyes, curly dark hair, a little wet mess. Our baby girl was finally here, born perfect.

5 Lessons You Learn In the First 5 Days of Parenting

5:45 am this past Thursday I woke up with cramps. Kind of like period cramps, but harder. I mean it was to be expected I was 9 months pregnant and a few days. About an hour later it hit me that I was having contractions. Like real contractions, not the little Braxton Hicks twinges I got trying to induce labor by walking the mall. But the real deal. 16 hours later we were were on the way to the birth center, sure I was going to die (not really, but from all the shady information the Internet throws out I was sure I had at least another 12-18 hours to go, and no way was I prepared for that). Fortunately, within 3 1/2 hours of being at the birth center  (The  Minnesota Birth Center ) I had the most beautiful baby I had ever seen laying in my arms.

June 3rd, 2016.
3:07 am.
7lbs 10 oz. 20.25 inches long.

Before we knew what hit us, El Esposo and I were thrust into the throws of parenthood and all that comes with it. If I could I would share every single moment with you. It's like Mary, "she treasured up all these things in her heart." I now am of the opinion that it is impossible to truly understand the depth of the this verse until you have your own someone and their moments to treasure.
These are the simple times. The times that will slip away without warning, but never be forgotten. Where taking hour long skin-to-skin naps in the early afternoon is the number one priority. Where new eyes are full of wonder and awe. Time stands still and is meant to be treasured. And I treasure and would share all these treasures if I could, but though it's only been 5 days, I think this post would go on for 5 days, so instead I'm going to share the highlights. 5 Lessons learned within the first 5 days of Parenthood:

1. You may be a parent if your first response is "I love you so much" when a tiny human projects nearly every bodily fluid on you in the span of 5 minutes.

I was feeding baby girl when all of a sudden I hear a loud "plphtth" sound coming from her drawers. I keep nursing. Maybe it's just gas. But then I hear it again , and shrimp pulls away, grimacing and squirming. No, this is the real deal. I'm still learning how babies work, so now I'm faced with the decision of whether I should change her or burp her first. Thinking of the greenish pool her buns are inarguably sitting in, I go with change her.  Carefully, carefully El Esposo takes her out of my arms and I pull myself off the bed. On the changing table, she continues to grimace. I think I would grimace too if my butt was drowning in a pool of sludge. Gingerly, we pull the tabs off her diaper and open it up. She wasn't done. We wait a few seconds, letting her finish her business. Then carefully pull the diaper out from under her. Oh, but wait, she still isn't done. Greenish-black goop comes running down my hand. I want to smack my forehead, but am aware this would only make the situation worst. Instead, I'm  proactive and pushed the fresh diaper underneath. I, again, wait for her to finish, while I grab a wipe to clean off my hand. Now she has to be done. I open a fresh diaper, and because I'm smart, and learn from my mistakes, i put the fresh diaper underneath her before I remove the dirty one. Little legs hoisted, butt in the air...but guess what! She's still not done. This time a stream of yellow fluid comes right at me, landing on my shirt, flowing down her back, staining her cute little dress. I thought only little boys were supposed to pee on you. Ok, this is enough. I start wiping of all the gunk from her rear and pull the dress off of her, careful for the umbilical cord stump. Thank goodness for that pinterest hack in saw about how to get a baby out of a poop-soaked onesie. Baby finally clean, I pick her up, remove the dirty changing table cover, throw the dressy at El Esposo, hoping he can rinse it with water so it won't be ruined. Finally she has a clean diaper. I pick her up to take her back to the bed. Mind you, I hadn't yet burped her. Upon picking her up, she spits up all down my shirt  and proceeds to sneeze in my face. I pull her back to see her face. Her eyes are wide. And at this point all I can do is laugh. "I love you so much," I whisper and kiss her on the cheek. 5 minutes is all it takes for a tiny human to make a mess.

2. Despite what you thought in high school, your mom really does know everything.

Everyday of this adventure I'm realizing how little I know about anything that has to do with anything when it comes to babies. And you know that fear that every mom has "I sound like my mother." Well it turns out I wish in some way I could sound like my mother, because then that would me a might know a thing or too. From boppy pillows to sleep schedules, I'm so happy I have someone that ran through a lot of trial and error before me and is willing to share that knowledge. Love you mom. Congrats on your promotion to grandma.

3. Babies look nothing like you think they will, but they come out absolutely perfect.

Throughout the whole pregnancy, El Esposo and would talk about how we thought our little bundle of love would look. And let me tell you, she looks nothing like anything we ever thought about. But I wouldn't want her any other way. Big black eyes, dark hair, prieta skin. She's a little chicana if ever laid my eyes on one. And she has the cutest little birthmark on her cheek that I just love. Poor baby, I know she's going to hate it when she gets older, and I'm going to love her all the more for it. To me it's absolute perfection. She's absolute perfection, because she's mine.

4. You know you've crossed over into parenthood when the thought races through your mind "it's 4 o'clock! We got to sleep in!"

It's no news that babies keep you up at night. They wake up and want to eat every 2-4 hours round the clock. That means if you go to bed at 10 pm, you could possibly be waking at midnight...2am... 4am...6am... and by 8 am you might as well give up, because who can get into a REM cycle on that schedule? And of course, if your baby is like our baby, she doesn't want to go back to sleep after eating at night. Nights the time to play! Back in the womb, 3 am was when she'd host her own little dance party, so why should outside the womb be any different? Of course during the day, she'll wake up, eat, get changed, and go right back to sleep, no assistance needed. But at night it's a different story. From adjusting to sleeping outside the womb, to the night she was super gassy and uncomfortable, baby girl is a night owl. El Esposo and I have been putting our heads together though. We're inging on to all the wisdom of Mom  (I kid you not, she really does know everything) and trying to think back to all the advise we recieved back before we knew what sleep deprivation really met. Finally we've figured out a system that worked (or at least it worked for one night so far) and baby girl only woke up once last night. She slept from midnight to 4am and 4 am to 8 am. 2 am came around, my body jumped awake, knowing she'd want to eat soon. But there was nothing. I put my hand down in to the bassinette to touch her belly. I could feel her breathing, still wrapped tightly in her swaddle. I let her sleep. I slept. Finally at 4 am I was startled awake by little lips smacking. I turned on the side table light and looked at my phone. 4 o'clock? That couldn't be right? Had she slept that long? I kid you not, the thought popped into my head, "were slept in." Then the reality of my thoughts really hit me. Parenthood does not mean know sleeping in. Sleeping in just means something a little different.

5. You believe in love at first sight.
After 22 hours of labor I was done. With a final push there was another person in the world, and in a matter of seconds she was resting on my chest. Though she didn't look like anything I had imagined, and she was covered in pregnancy slime, my heart was undeniably stolen. Before I gave birth, I read several blogs where new moms would talk about how they didn't "love" their baby at first. Of course they loved their baby, but the uncontrollable feelings associated with that just weren't there. So when they placed that slime, warm little mess on my chest the feelings that washed over me were almost unexpected. And I knew I had never loved anything or anyone so much in my entire life.

In the end I am learning mother's are their children's treasure chests, where every moment of their lives is stored and cared for in a way that only a mother could know. Every day is bringing new moments, from keeping her eyes open when there's light out, to losing her umbilical cord stub. And every moment keeps me in the tension where I am simultanrously praying for her future and gently whispering "please stay small" as I treasure up all of her moments in my heart.