Ingredients:

½ bag Egg Noodles

½ cup Onion, chopped small

2 cloves garlic, minced (chopped very small)

1 Carrot, peeled and chopped small

1 Tbsp Olive Oil

½ cup Frozen Pees Or Soy Beans

1 Tbsp Butter

1 Tbsp Flour

1 cup Milk

1 can Solid White Tuna, drained and broken up with fork

½ cup Sour Cream

1 cup shredded Cheddar

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350.  Spray a 9×9 casserole dish with Pam or other cooking spray.

Cook ½ bag egg noodles according to package directions.

Saute onion, garlic, and carrot in olive oil until carrots are soft.  Take out and set aside.

Steam pees or soy beans according to the package directions.

Melt butter in a frying pan.  Add flour and stir for a minute or two over med-low heat until mixture turns beige – don’t rush it.  Slowly add ½ cup milk and stir until well mixed.  Add another ½ cup and bring to low boil while continuing to mix.  When this mixture is thick, add a little salt & pepper, tuna, soy beans/pees and carrot mixture.  Turn the heat off and continue to mix well.

Fold in the noodles with a spatula and then add the sour cream and ½ cup of cheddar.  Spread out in prepared 9×9 dish and then sprinkle with the rest of the cheese.

Bake at 350 for 20 min until cheese is melted and casserole has come together.

This is just one example of a Christmas experience that made me feel isolated, left out, and awkward. From cashiers asking what Santa was going to bring me, to public school teachers who were obviously put out by my mom’s requests for less religious activities.  Christmas time always made me feel like an outsider in my own community.

This may explain why I felt so overprotective this year as Faye approached her first “Holiday Season” in public school.  I wanted to protect her and keep her from developing such negative feelings about Christmas.  I also wanted to make sure the other adults in her life were sensitive to her in this time.

With my defenses up, I received an email from the school room mom about the upcoming “Holiday” party.  Although the email did not contain the word “Christmas”, it was filled with thoughts about the red and green cupcakes, ornament decorating, and other Christmas themed activities she had planned for the occasion.

Later that week, following my Chanukah explanation to her class, I gave Faye’s teacher a Chanukah movie to show during their daily quiet time.  He was very thankful and told me he would be happy to show it.

So the next day, when Faye broke into tears telling me her teacher showed The Grinch instead, I was livid.  He had already shown two days worth of Christmas programming, and Faye had been looking forward to sharing a Chanukah movie with her friends.

For me, these two events felt like music class all over again.  More adults overlooking the non-Christian kids and assuming every child wanted to celebrate Christmas.  I was determined to make both of them more sensitive to the needs of my daughter and kids like her.

Starting with the room mom, I sent an email explaining why Faye would not be comfortable participating in a Christmas party.  This went very well, and she was more than generous with her response.  She added a variety of cupcakes colors to the menu and agreed to include crafts other than ornament making to her list.

My next email was to Faye’s teacher.  I started by expressing my overall disappointment in the celebration of Christmas in school and tried to explain how hard this is on Jewish kids.  I’ll admit, he was getting a few years (read: decades) worth of pent up Christmas frustration, and the email was both long and angry.  Thankfully, I put that email aside for a few hours until I could discuss it with Jason.

This is when the issue really started to change for me.  Jason asked what I hoped to accomplish with my email.  Did I think the entire school was going to stop celebrating Christmas because it was hard on our child?  Were strangers going to stop wishing her a Merry Christmas at every turn?  How big of an impact could her teacher make?

Put that way, I realized I was putting a lot of pressure on this teacher to change a culture he had no control over.  With that in mind, I deleted my original email and simply asked him to consider showing the Chanukah movie before the end of the week.  He quickly replied that he would be happy to show our movie.

The experience that had the biggest impact on me was volunteering at the “Holiday” Party in Faye’s classroom. To my surprise, both the teacher and the other parents were genuinely committed to making the party comfortable for everyone. There were a variety of non-Christmas related crafts, and even a Chanukah bingo game.  When Faye came upon a table with a Christmas ornament craft, another mother simply suggested she make it as a gift for a friend.  Problem solved.

These experiences of Christmas in the public school over the past two weeks have really changed my perspective on the matter. For all of my worrying and defending, I found most of the people I spoke with to be accommodating. While I would prefer the public schools not be filled to the brim with Christmas, I no longer fear for the affect this will have on my children.

It is not my job to change how Christmas celebrations affect my children, but rather to instill in them a love for Judaism and for all of our holidays throughout the year.  With all of the Chanukah parties we have had/attended this year, I have no doubt they are feeling that love.

I wrote my first article about some of our past challenges around the high holidays as a military family in small Jewish communities. My second article is about my running adventures and how I find time for myself out there on the road.  I love being able to contribute to this magazine and also secretly love the idea of the possibility that Mayim Bialik might read my words.  She is, after all, on the staff of the magazine and a regular contributor.  The former Blossom actress is a religious Jewish mommy and currently co-staring on the show Big Bang Theory.  I am a big fan, both of her acting and her writing.

If you are not already reading Kveller, and are a Jewish parent, I highly recommend it.  One of my favorite Kveller moments was over Yom Kippur.  Looking through I saw an article on fasting from a mother of a small children.  Like me, she been pregnant or nursing for years and wasn’t planning on fasting this year.  On my first read, I agreed 100%.  But then I started to read the thoughtful comments and they really touched me.  Finally, Mayim Bialik wrote a related article on why she fasts even when she is nursing.  After all of this insightful conversation, I decided to fast and actually got a lot out of it.

I don’t know how often I will be writing, but I am excited to have this voice in the larger Jewish community.

Running used to be a burdon, something to get over with and be done with.  But after training for my first marathon with The Non-Runner’s Marathon Trainer, I have come to really enjoy the meditative state I can get into while alone on the road.  With a new baby in the house, there is a danger of getting lost in the duties of being a mom.  I am the last to eat – if I get to eat at all – and always put my needs on the back burner for what the kids need.  I love being a mom, but I love really need some time to myself.

Even with Evelyn in the jogging stroller, I am usually able to tune out the world and tune into myself.  It is healing for my mommy soul.

Lately, as I have begun to increase my miles, I have gotten to the point of feeling very tired.  I get in a run in the last mile or two and start feeling as if I’m moving in slow motion.  My posture is crap and I feel down.  In these times, I have been focussing on some of my most inspiring moments.  Here are a few that make me stand up straight, renew my resolve, and pick up speed as I bring it home.

1. Sophomore year of high school, end of track season. I hadn’t met my coach’s goal of beating a 7 min mile. He told me I would have to continue to come to practice every day until I did it. Everyone was watching. Last lap, I am running as fast as I can. Coach tells some of the faster runners, guys and gals, to run with me to help me make the time. I see some of the most popular kids on either side of me, telling me I have this, I can do this. They wanted this as bad as I did. I come in at 6:59 and the whole team cheers for me. One of my best feelings to this day.

2. My first marathon.  I ran my own 26.2 on a 4.5 mile trail (many, many out and backs) with my husband and friends cheering me on.  They made a sign for me to break through at the end.  I thought I wasn’t going to be able to make it, but when I did, Jason was waiting with a bucket of water to douse me with.  Such a victory on so many levels.

3. Finishing the Marine Corps Marathon. The excitement in finishing such an amazing race is still so vivid in my mind.

4. Giving birth to Evelyn naturally.  When I am really in a rut, I remember what it felt like right before I pushed.  I was so done and felt like I had nothing left.  They cheered me on, I gave it my all, and there she was.  Just like that.  I seriously replay this in my mind when I need a lift.  It always makes me run faster and harder.  When I remember this moment, I feel invincible.

Above are Sonia 2007 (left) and Evelyn 2011 (right) in the same t-shirt.

Having anew baby reminds me so much of my dear Sonia who I only experienced as a baby back in 2007.  Having Gavin healed my soul, and helped me to move on in so many ways from the death of my baby girl.  I think it was a blessing that he was a boy, though, because somewhere in my mind, I had a hard time separating his pregnancy from the baby I lost.  Now, having another baby girl, I have had a lot of deja vu.

For one thing, I have a ton of girl clothes that were worn by both Faye and Sonia that I now put on Evelyn.  It is so crazy to think my 6 year old Faye once wore the shirt now on 2 month old Evy.  It is even crazier when I find a shirt that both Faye and Sonia wore.  It makes me smile.

Another aspect of my deja vu is that Evelyn looks so much like Sonia.  She has the same hair and eyes and so many similar characteristics. Like the sweet little hairs on her forehead, her big bright eyes and the shape of her face.  I find myself calling her Sonia or having to think for a moment before saying the right name.  I don’t know what to make of this similarity, but it makes me smile.  I no longer struggle to realize Sonia isn’t coming back, or think in any way that any of my other children will replace her.  I think I am just happy to be reminded of Sonia every day in her newest little sibling.

Shortly after Sonia died, when Faye was 2 years old, I signed us up for a mommy and me gymnastics class.  It was a perfect activity for us to reconnect after those months apart and a great way for her to interact with other kids. The class was great, and we made some great friends in the other families.  One family in particular, though, touched my heart every week.  Along with her 2 year old boy, this mom had a little baby in a carry along car seat.  Sonia had just passed, and this baby looked so much like her.  She had dark hair and bright eyes, and was about the same age Sonia would have been.  It was so hard for me not to tell the mom all about my baby – but I didn’t want to bring up such sadness when it was still so raw.  I watched that baby grow over the year with a tiny ache in my heart.

Years later, we even ran into that family at the library when the girl was about 3 years old, and I could not take my eyes off of her. Seeing her made me smile, but also made me sad.  In a way it was like seeing a ghost, because I had watched her during that year long ago and imagined my own child growing.  It was also hard to realize Sonia might have been a big girl by then.  Although she would be 4 now, she is always a baby in my mind.

Yesterday, I took Gavin to his first mommy and me gymnastics class.  When I looked down at some point and saw sweet Evelyn in her car seat, memories came flooding back and I again felt that deja vu.  We are in a different gym in a different state, but I couldn’t help but remember the time I took Faye and wished like anything I had my sweet baby in a car seat by my side.  It is bitter sweet to watch my healthy children and my family grow, because in my heart I always know someone is missing.  People see a family with 3 kids, but for us, there is that other little girl who is always in our hearts and minds.

Many times during my pregnancy with Evelyn, when I would tell someone I was planning to birth her naturally, I would get the inevitable “why?”.  That, or someone would say ” you are brave, I could never do that.”   The idea that birth is something beyond what the average woman can do on her own permeates our culture and everything we see on TV and movies about labor and delivery.  Most images associated with birth are of a woman laying on her back with her feet in stirrups, sweating and screaming at the top of her lungs in pain.  For the average woman, including me for my first 3 births, you go to the hospital filled with fear and ready to hand your body over to the professional medical staff to get your baby out.  Even if you start with ideas of a drug-free birth, the practices of the average hospital will lead most women to either lose their mind in pain or beg for drugs.  Both of these happened to me with Faye’s birth almost 6 years ago.

Looking back, Faye’s birth was filled with fear and anxiety and was dictated by hospital procedures that had little regard for what was best for me.  My attempt to avoid pain meds was practically laughed at, I was “plugged in” to monitors and machines from the beginning, and I was told to stay in the bed throughout the entire process.  When lying on my back for many hours did not lead my labor to progress, the doctor broke my water and gave me labor inducing drugs.  This increased my pain very rapidly and lead me to ask (read: scream and beg) for an epidural.  After many hours of labor, my doctor had my epidural turned off (taking my pain from nothing to excruciating in minutes) and told me to push (still lying on my back).  When I was unsuccessful after more than 2 hours, she gave me an episiotomy and then used a vacuum suction to pull Faye out.

To sum it up, I was drugged and cut and “vacuumed” instead of using my body’s natural abilities to birth my baby.   The entire process was dictated by hospital procedures and what the doctor wanted to do.  For them, I was a patient dependent on doctors, instead of a woman whose body was made to birth.  No one (besides Jason) rubbed my back or told me I could do this and that I would be okay.  Instead of maternal support, I was given options of how they could move things along.  From this experience, I came to believe that a drugged birth from the beginning would be the best kind of birth.  I no longer had a desire to let my body labor on it’s own, because clearly I was not capable.

With the memory of Faye’s birth in mind, I had no problem having a completely drugged labor and delivery with my second daughter Sonia.  When I was 40 weeks pregnant, I was given an epidural and induced and then watched TV for 9 hours until someone told me it was time to push.  I remember laughing when they were sewing me up because I was in such little pain.  When it was all said and done, I was sure this was the way to go and planned on doing the same with my future births.

My ideas about medically induced labor all changed when my induction with Gavin lead to an emergency c-section.   Just 10 minutes and two contractions into my induced labor, a team of about 10 people rushed into my room to start preparing me for a c-section.  Gavin’s heart rate was plummeting with every contraction, and I wasn’t even dilated yet.  He was in distress because we had been in such a rush to get him out.  Jason was taken out of the room, and I was rushed into surgery.  It a was terrifying and traumatic experience.  Besides the trauma of an emergency c-section, the recovery was so much more painful than that of a vaginal birth and took so much longer.  I remember thinking many times that I would be happy to go through a full day of painful labor if it meant avoiding the months of a c-section recovery.

I began considering a natural birth when I started researching how to have a successful VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Caesarean section).  The major risk of a VBAC is that the incision in the uterus could rupture during the intense contractions of labor, putting both mother and baby’s lives in danger.  One of the main ways to reduce this risk is to avoid the use of labor inducing drugs, which cause sudden intense contractions.  Pain relieving drugs can also be a problem if they slow down labor, because the usual response of induction drugs is not available.  Pain meds also require a woman to lay on her back, making it harder for the baby to move down the birth canal.  So the best way to avoid a c-section is to avoid drugs.  Although it sounds painful, I couldn’t imagine it would be worse than the 2 hours I spent pushing Faye out without an epidural or the long recovery from another c-section.

Another major influence on my decision to have a natural birth was the documentary The Business of Being Born by Ricky Lake.  The film documents the history of medical births in this country and the ways that hospital and medical needs have dictated the way women birth over the years.  A huge example is the practice of laboring on one’s back.  This is not only the least effective way to move a baby down the birth canal (think gravity), but it is also one of the most painful ways to endure labor.  The movie gave me a whole different perspective on my birth experience with Faye and actually angered me to think of all that could have been done differently.

Besides showing what is wrong with the typical hospital birth, the film also highlights the benefits of natural births.  Having trained women by your side to hold your hand, encourage you, and help you manage the pain with positions and calming techniques can make all of the difference.  This is opposed to the typical hospital practices of hooking you up to monitors, taking your vitals, and then leaving you to labor on your own.  I can’t put into words how powerful this film is, but I highly recommend it to any woman who has or is planning to give birth.

After doing my research, I decided to hire a doula and go about preparing to labor and birth naturally.  Jason and I took a class that taught the Bradley Method which emphasized relaxation, stretching, and specific exercises throughout pregnancy to prepare for labor.  I also read a great book called Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth which gave great insight into what a woman needs to know about her body to successfully labor.  This included things like how to keep labor going if it stalls and how relaxing your body not only helps you manage pain, but also allows your body to open up to let your baby down.

Another major decision was to go outside of the Navy hospital (after switching my insurance to Tricare Standard) and to see a Certified Nurse Midwife who attends her own births.  This was so important to me because I was able to find a midwife who believes in women’s’ abilities to birth their babies without medical intervention.  Many doctors believe that a VBAC is an unnecessary risk to both a mother and a baby, even though The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists says it is a perfectly safe option.  Seeing doctors who believed a VBAC was too risky made me doubt myself and my choice to avoid another c-section.  With a midwife, I also knew I would get support during my labor instead of pressure to conform to the medical model of birth.

Considering my 4 very different birth experiences, I can honestly say my natural birth with Evelyn was the easiest and most empowering.  I had no fear or anxiety during my labor, and instead felt at ease and confident in my body and in myself.  While I realize the idea of a natural birth goes against what we have always seen and been told about birth, I highly recommend the above resources – especially The Business of Being Born – to any woman who has child birth in her future.  I feel so lucky to have finally experienced a natural child birth and only wish more women could have such a positive birth experience.