"Your baby is crying so loud she's waking up all the other babies. You'll need to keep her with you."

It was a tumultuous time for our family. We had moved from Hermiston, Oregon 100 miles west to a little town along the Columbia River Gorge called The Dalles, as Gerald began a new job at the newspaper. Our son Luke was only a few months old, and I was already pregnant with our second. I was trying to complete my master's degree at a university way over on the west side of the state, a decade before online classes existed. Everything was hard.

Still, I was excited! You see, motherhood was not something I'd ever really thought about before it was thrust upon me. I wasn't the girl who dreamed of having kids. I'll save Luke's birth story for December, but suffice it to say his birth totally changed my perspective and my life plan, and when I found out I was expecting our second, even though the circumstances weren't ideal, I was thrilled. Another little baby! I could hardly wait to meet him or her.

Because we were new to The Dalles, I didn't know many people, but we met a family who lived in the same apartment complex, just across the breezeway. Their names were Helen and Bob, and they had two little boys. We spent quite a lot of time with them in those early days in The Dalles, and as my baby's due date grew nearer, they volunteered to keep Luke for us when we went to the hospital.

"I sure hope this happens in the daytime," I thought. "I don't want to wake these guys up."
"It doesn't matter," Helen assured me.

Of course, it didn't happen in the daytime.

I didn't know yet that all my babies would take their sweet time hangin' out in Heaven, so I expected this one to arrive around April 23rd, the due date. Each day after that felt like torture, and at my appointment mid-week, my doctor said we could wait one week past the due date, but he was scheduling an induction for April 30th if the baby wasn't here by then. I should arrive at the hospital at 7:00 a.m. that day.

I went to sleep the night of the 29th feeling totally normal (as normal as one can feel at 41 weeks pregnant), with no signs of labor. My hospital bag was packed, and Helen and Bob were expecting Luke first thing in the morning.

Just not quite as early as they got him. I woke up at around 2:00 a.m. with legit contractions, way more intense than the Braxton Hicks variety I had experienced for several weeks. Hmmm, perhaps this baby would take after his or her mother and not like to be told what to do. Or when to be born. By 4:00 a.m., I felt we needed to go to the hospital, so Gerald called poor Helen and Bob: "We have a little boy to drop off, a few hours earlier than we anticipated." They were excited for us and said to bring him right over.

When we walked into the labor and delivery unit and I told the nurse my name, she checked her chart and announced, "You're not supposed to be here until 7:00." Yeah, I'm aware. But I think I'm in labor, so.

Turns out I was correct.

Nurse: "Oh my goodness, we need to call Dr. Mack right away. We're gonna have a baby here!"
Me: "Like I said."

My obstetrician happened to be married to Luke's pediatrician, and because of Luke's intense struggle with childhood asthma, I knew her very well. She told me later that when the hospital staff called their home to tell Dr. Mack I was in active labor and making quick progress, he was taking way too long to get up and out of there. "Get out of bed, and go now, or she's gonna deliver without you," she told him.

He made it just in time, and Shulamith Ericha Webster was born at 6:50 a.m., just 10 minutes before we were scheduled to arrive at the hospital. It was by far my fastest labor and delivery, a wonderful contrast to Luke's birth the year before.

At first I didn't believe my baby was a girl. For real, the first words out of my mouth after she was born were, "Is it really a girl? Like really?" I was totally expecting another boy. No idea why, except most people I knew with two kids had two of the same gender. I immediately called my mom and grandma: "I have a daughter! I really got a girl!" Oh my goodness, I was ecstatic.

About then she started crying. In the 80s, they liked to keep babies in the nursery and only bring them to their moms for feedings. I hated this so much, so I often "forgot" to ring for the nurses when I was done feeding, hoping they'd forget about me and leave me and my baby alone. This strategy actually worked sometimes; however, by nighttime they definitely collected all the babies, mine included. Before long, though, they brought mine back: "Your baby is crying so loud she's waking up all the other babies. You'll need to keep her with you." Well, great! That's what I wanted all along.

I once wrote about all this crying in a post here, so I won't repeat. She pretty much cried for the next nine months any time she wasn't nursing. I was trapped at home with a toddler who couldn't yet walk and an infant who cried constantly. Good times. If we dared venture out as a family, I would ride in the back, on a bench seat, squished between two carseats, so I could hold her hands and talk to her as she cried, hoping she wouldn't think she was all alone or that no one was paying attention. We never went very far.

She came at the most inconvenient time and was by far my hardest infant. And yet, those who know us, know how wonderful she is and what she means to me.

Happy birthday tomorrow!

Walking in the Time of Quarantine: The Faces You See!

As I explained in an earlier post, with this in-home sheltering deal, I have to push hard to get my 10,000 daily steps. Rather than just my typical loop (either up by Emily's house if she's with me, or down around my house if I'm alone or with Seth), I have to do it twice. This means I'm out walking even more than I used to be and at all different times.

The result of this additional walking, and the fact that others are out as well, desperate to escape their own four walls, is that I've happened upon so many folks here and there along the way. What a lovely blessing shining through this time of fear and uncertainty!

Walking in the time of quarantine: The faces you see!

My loop near my house begins with a stroll down Angel Street, where Seth and I have run into Justin and his kids multiple times. They're out shooting baskets or doing yard work. It's always great to see them and say "Hey." Seth's second day home, we saw Gus out working in his yard as we passed by. "Welcome home, Elder," was his greeting to Seth.

We walk all the way to the end, turn right, and loop around until we're back up on 8000, where we head east until we weave our way through the Cottages. This is where we find the most people. At least three times, we've run into Nichole and Drew and their two babes. Drew was Seth's Young Men's President before he left on his mission, so Seth is always so happy to see him.

One time we saw Emily and Matt (different Emily from the one mentioned above and below). Oh the joy! I wanted to run right up and hug her.....but of course I didn't, social distancing and all. Still, it was pure delight to chat with them, right there in person. Another day I was by myself in the Cottages and found Kayla, pushing her baby in a stroller, her two little boys riding their bikes alongside. It had started to rain, and she was coaxing them along. We talked only briefly, but ahh, so nice to see her.

Then another day I was by myself and headed back to my house, when Jacque called to me from across 80th. We spent about five minutes yelling at each other across the street until she decided to cross, so we could converse more easily, though still 6 feet apart. As always, a delight to hear what she has to say.

On my loop with Emily, I don't see nearly so many friends because we're outside the 4th Ward boundaries, but one day we did run into Cyndi from my current ward. I was excited to congratulate her on her recent mission call and also talk about ordering Kortni Jeane bathing suits. Woo!

In-home sheltering is hard.

We're all a little antsy.

It's stressful.

If you're looking for a safe, healthy activity that might possibly provide the added benefit of brief but fabulous conversations with friends, may I recommend walking?

Walking in the time of quarantine: The faces you see!

Buying stuff. Walking more. Playing Dominion. Staying sane!

I think it's safe to say that for every one of us, COVID-19, aka the coronavirus, has affected us in ways we never thought possible, its impact permeating nearly every corner of our lives.To those who have lost friends or family members to this wretched virus, my heart breaks for you. I can't even imagine. To those of you who fight daily on the frontlines, healing and caring for the sick, searching for the key to an effective vaccine, delivering our mail, bringing us our groceries: Respect!

As you risk your own health to go to work each day, the rest of us stay at home, quarantined, sheltering in place. We isolate ourselves from every opportunity to contract this virus. And we complain a lot. It's hard. We are inconvenienced. But we are the lucky ones. And we are grateful to you who must go to work, humbly and profoundly grateful.

As I was grading papers and answering emails today, a student inquired about my well-being. This happens fairly often now that all my classes have shifted online. Students ask me how I'm doing; they hope I'm safe and well. It's touching really, because I think they mean it. I think they are genuinely concerned. We spent two-thirds of the semester together, and then suddenly no more. Now we communicate only remotely. This student's question caused me to reflect more deeply on my own unique set of circumstances:

"What are you doing to stay sane?" she wanted to know.

Hmmm? Well, some would argue that, even under normal circumstances, my sanity is questionable. Anxiety as bad as mine most definitely qualifies as mental illness. That said, I remain functional most of the time. I've even had people tell me they can't believe I suffer from debilitating anxiety because I always seem so "together." Which is hilarious. They should have stopped by at, say, 3:00 a.m. this past Sunday morning when I was up pacing the floor, deep breathing (just to make sure I could), taking my temperature (97.4), stressing over a potential collapse of the housing market, along with being overwhelmed with fear that a person very important in my life doesn't like me anymore.

Yep, it was just that awesome. You can be grateful for social distancing. You can stay away from this madness. 

My student's question led me to a few interesting insights, though, so I'm glad she asked. What am I doing to stay sane?

Buying stuff. Not a lot of stuff, but a little stuff. Like I bought a new Kortni Jeane bathing suit to give myself hope that we will get to go swimming this summer. And I bought some new makeup. I also bought two new dresses from a wicked sale at Old Navy, both for just $24. They provide hope that one day, I'll have reason to wear a dress again. Here's one:

Walking more. Yes, I always walk. I love to walk. Everyone who knows me, knows that. It's the best way to reduce anxiety since I choose not to use medication. It's good for both brain and body. I honestly can't think of a single negative consequence from walking. These days, though, with so much time spent indoors, it's way harder to get my daily 10,000 steps. Back in the day (say, 2.5 months ago), if I did one dedicated walk of 4,000 steps and then just went through my regular routine, by the end of that day, I'd have my 10,000. Now I'm lucky to reach 6,000 with just that one dedicated walk, which means that in an entire day at home, I'm only walking around 2,000 steps. Yikes!

I guess sitting in my bed reading or blogging or doing online school, and sitting in my recliner binging Netflix make for a horribly sedentary lifestyle. Not good! I decided early on in this quarantine that there is no reason for me not to meet my goal of 10,000 daily steps. Seriously, what else do I have to do? My appointment calendar is blank. My part time job is completely online. To accomplish this, I need two substantive dedicated walks daily, one in the morning and one in the afternoon or evening. I try to do a bit of school work right when I wake up and then get out for my first walk. Sometimes Emily is able to go with me, she and her two babies in the double stroller six feet to the side of me. Other times I go alone. Then later in the day, Seth and I do my second walk.

Playing Dominion. Once upon a time, Isaiah got all into this board game called Dominion. It involves hundreds of cards, in Isaiah's case, 10 boxes full! You can play the game with just a basic set, but over the years, he has bought all these expansion packs, until now it looks like this:

Isaiah taught Eli to play, and later Mathew, and eventually even Seth. This was years ago. I never learned to play; it looked way too complicated with all those cards. My favorite Dominion story is when Seth was barely 11 years old and went all by himself to compete in a Dominion tournament at a game store in Sugar House and placed 3rd! Would you like to read about it and see his adorable winning picture? Isaiah didn't play Dominion the whole time Seth was gone on his mission, but once he came home, this happened:

Every day. Over and over, this happened. Until finally, Seth said, "Mom, you wanna play? You wanna learn the game?" Pretty sure he expected me to decline, but you know, here I am quarantined, stuck in my house almost all the time, so I figured why not learn this game? Turned out to be a great decision. Not only do I get to spend quality time with three of my favorite guys in the whole world, but it's actually a super fun game. I like it better each time I play. Of course, I never win (well, I actually won once, but it was all luck). Isaiah and Seth are expert strategists and seem to know every single one of the dozens of cards, what each does, and how they work together for the most powerful effect. Me? I just buy cards and then see what happens.

My kind student asked me, "What are you doing to stay sane?"

My best. I'm doing my best.

And the things that seem to help are buying stuff, walking more, and playing Dominion.

...he was 80% sure my baby was a girl.

Tomorrow is Isaiah's birthday.

Like many of us, he is currently working from home and his at-home "office" is my comfy recliner in the family room, so most days I get to listen in on his morning team meeting. Yesterday at the meeting, someone from the team announced, "And Wednesday is Isaiah's birthday!" to which Isaiah replied, "Oh yeah. I guess it is." He had totally forgotten. No surprise. Isaiah has always been low key. He's also the definition of a minimalist, which makes shopping for him nearly impossible. He's probably the smartest person I know, and more importantly, his values are sound. He understands what matters in life and what doesn't.

Because of his quiet, personality, I don't write about him often, but if you'd like to know him better (which I highly recommend!),  here and here and here are some articles about him.

But now let's get on with that birth story, the second in the calendar year 2020, as I continue to tell each of my children's birth story, in the month of his or her birth.

Our first two kids were born way close together, so we needed a little break before #3. By the time Isaiah was born, Luke and Shulamith were 6 and 5, respectively. They were self sufficient in so many ways that bringing a new baby home was ridiculously easy. We were living in The Dalles, a small town 80 miles east of Portland along the Columbia River Gorge.

As I mentioned in Eli's birth story, all my babies come a week late, so though Isaiah's due date was April 9th, I knew he wouldn't show up until mid-April, and sure enough, the morning of April 14th, those contractions I'd been having for two weeks began to regulate and intensify. He was on his way!

By afternoon, I called my doctor, who said to head to the hospital and he would be in touch with staff there and join us when needed. "Let's do this!" I told Gerald, and we packed up Luke and Shulamith and dropped them at my friend Diane's house, on our way. But when we arrived at the hospital, we found the Labor and Delivery ward closed up tight. As in no one was there. Turns out Mid-Columbia Medical Center opens its maternity area only when there are women and babies there, which makes perfect sense, but in that moment was a bit disconcerting.

We walked around to another area of the hospital, stopping periodically so I could breathe through a contraction, and found someone to help us. "Oh, you need Labor and Delivery? Let me make a phone call."

"Awesome, thanks."

Very soon, two nurses arrived, and the Labor and Delivery unit came to life. Just for us! Just for our new little baby. At that time, routine ultrasonography was new, at least in small towns like The Dalles. My doctor had only recently gotten a machine in his office was still learning to use it, so at my 20-week checkup, he tried it out and told me he was 80% sure my baby was a girl. Those sounded like pretty good odds, so I went to the hospital that afternoon, expecting to give birth to Faith Webster Erichsen (in our rotation, the Erichsen last name came next).

I called my mom in Portland and told her it was "go time," so she hopped in her car and headed east. She had no need to rush, though, because it would still be hours, ohhhh so many hours, before our baby BOY made his entrance at 3:50 a.m. the following day. We were so surprised but so thrilled to meet him, our perfect Isaiah Webster Erichsen! At 9 lbs. 1 oz., he would be our second largest baby.

Immediately, everyone present began to comment about his beautiful eyes. Most babies don't have visible eyelashes, but his were long and thick and black, complementing his big blue eyes. Throughout our 2-day stay, various hospital personnel who had no reason to visit me, would knock, peek their heads into the room and say, "I keep hearing about the baby in this room with the beautiful eyes. Can I see him?"

Of course! Post-delivery euphoria hit hard, and I was elated to show everyone my beautiful little boy. Nurses kept telling me I should try to get some sleep. No way! All I wanted to do was hold him. I was once again, for the third time, in awe of the miracle that partners women with God to bring these precious spirits to earth. It's an honor beyond which words can describe.

By morning, my friends started to come by. We had lived in The Dalles for nearly six years, so we had many, many friends. It was a parade of people most of the day, all rejoicing with us. One nurse tried to tell me I'd had too many visitors, but I didn't care. There are few occasions when you get to be totally selfish and do things exactly the way you want to, regardless of what anyone else thinks, and having a baby is one of those times.

We brought Isaiah home to two doting siblings. Luke was delighted he turned out to be a boy, and Shulamith was ready to take on the role of 2nd mommy without so much as a second thought. It was a blissfully happy time for our family.

That was a few years ago, though it doesn't really seem like so many. Isaiah grew up to be one of my best friends. I couldn't be any prouder. Here we are together, just over a month ago, excited to vote for Bernie in Utah's primary election.

That was before the world turned upside down. Tomorrow we will celebrate Isaiah's birthday at home, in quarantine, with just our family.

And for him, that will be perfectly fine.

Unique and Glorious!

Six months ago, President Russell M. Nelson asked the membership of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to prepare for a "unique" experience at the April 2020 General Conference. Back then, I don't think any of us, including President Nelson, imagined what that would mean, but unique it was!

Unique and glorious.

Instead of holding the sessions in the Conference Center, filled to the brim with members from around the world, it was broadcast from a much smaller auditorium, and only those speaking attended. President Nelson presided over and attended all five sessions, but others attended only if they were speaking. Those few in attendance were seated six feet apart, following the guidelines for social distancing.

The music consisted of former recordings of the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square, singing in past General Conferences. One of those recordings was from way back in October of 2000.

Seth: "October, 2000?! That's the year I was born. Did you watch that session, Mom?"
Me: "Of course! I've watched every session of General Conference for as long as I can remember."

Then I thought more about that particular recording from October 2000. Seth would have been just four months old. And it hit me! We lived in Mt. Vernon, Washington, and in those days (at least outside Utah), Conference wasn't available on TV. We had to get dressed up and go to the stake center to watch the satellite broadcast, which we did for every session.

I remember sitting in the mothers' room, nursing Seth, during that exact General Conference in October 2000. A small, cube-style TV was set up across from the rocking chairs, so mothers could watch conference while nursing their babies. Of course I can't be sure which specific session it was, or if it was the same session that included the song that was played yesterday, but it was definitely the same General Conference, because Seth was still tiny.

Today, that tiny baby is a 19-year-old returned missionary (How many can say that?), who watched General Conference with me this weekend, all five sessions. Had they not used pre-recorded music from TABCATS' past General Conference performances, I would not have experienced this sweet memory.

Unique and glorious.

As I mentioned in a previous blog post, Seth's sudden and early return from his mission has been challenging for me. I've cursed this dumb virus for turning the world upside down, and particularly for forcing Seth to leave his mission abruptly five months early and come home to a 14-day quarantine. "It's just not right!" I've murmured. And yet, faith requires me to accept what happened and to remember that "...all things work together for good for them that love God, to them who are called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28). Seth loves God and was called according to his purpose. It's all good.

Seth's early return meant he was with me this past Conference weekend. Of course watching Conference with Seth is not, in itself, unique. Up until he left on his mission in August of 2018, he and I watched Conference together every six months for years. Conference is an "event" in our home, and I do all sorts of things to bribe...um..."encourage" kids to watch. But this time was different.

Seth's mission grew his testimony in so many ways, while still leaving his adorable, funny, engaging personality intact. Through the 19 months he served, his depth of gospel understanding and commitment to it increased exponentially. He may have been even more excited for General Conference than I was! Fully engaged in every talk, he had much to offer as we discussed the counsel from the speakers, how it applies to the Church in general and to us, personally. Yep, the experience was indeed unique.

Unique and glorious.

Our favorite talks? No surprises. Just when I thought Elder Holland couldn't possibly give a better talk than he did last time, he crushes it right out of the park! Oh. My. Goodness. If you didn't get the chance to hear it, stop whatever you're doing right now (even though it's reading my blog), go right here, and listen. Really. His message of hope, so timely yet so universal, was precisely what so many desperately needed in this scary and uncertain time, myself included.

Then there was Elder Uchtdorf. In October of 2013, then-President Uchtdorf gave a talk in General Conference titled "Come, Join with Us." In it is the line, "There is room for you in this church." This doctrine of inclusivity inspired my second blog: thereisroomforyou.blogspot.com. Though not nearly as prolific as itslegs.blogspot.com, it addresses my experiences as a convert with the doctrine and culture of my church. Elder Uchtdorf's talk yesterday in the afternoon session reminded me so much of his earlier talk from 2013. Always, he emphasizes the importance of welcoming all into the fellowship of the Saints, regardless of, well, anything.

President Nelson concluded the April 2020 General Conference by reviewing the new and exciting announcements: a new symbol for the church, spotlighting the risen Lord; a bicentennial  proclamation, spotlighting the restoration of the gospel in the fullness of times; and eight new temples, including one in Dubai and one in Shanghai. What?? So cool.

I get cranky when people misuse the word "unique," but I love it used correctly. Six months ago, President Nelson asked us to prepare for a unique General Conference experience. It did not disappoint. Unique it was, indeed.

Unique and glorious.

Like trekking through mud, we made it to April!

We did it.

It's finally April. It's not even an April Fool's joke.

I'm not sure why that feels like such an accomplishment, but it does. Maybe the fact that we made it to a new month gives us hope, hope that we will continue to trek through the mud of this crazy existence, day by day, week by week, month by month, for as long as it takes.

As we stay home to protect both ourselves and the weakest among us, it's important to keep watch on our mental health right along with our physical health. When our stake president released Seth from has mission, he told Seth that, though quarantined, he should get out of the house daily and go for walk, as one way to protect his mental health. I agree! As someone who struggles enough with mental health when there isn't a global pandemic (stupid anxiety/panic attacks), I take this seriously. I've upped my walking regimen these past two weeks, and I can feel the positive effect.

Emily has even been able to go with me a couple times, with Evelyn and Baby Jeffrey in the double stroller. Then Seth and I take a 4,000-step walk each afternoon. This is when I hear the best mission stories. You'd be jealous. Really, there's something about the medium of walking that moves conversation along organically, and one by one, I hear all about Seth's experiences in Paraguay. What a privilege it was for him to be there.

Staying reasonably productive is another way to relieve the stress of quarantine. Just before Seth came home, Shulamith and I painted his room, steam cleaned the carpets, ordered new bedding, and cleaned everywhere. The days passed quickly; we were energized by our accomplishments. Now that's over, and we have to seek out ways to be productive. Today we played with the two dogs in the back yard sunshine. It was good for both them and us. Watching Woofie try to removed Waffles' collar was hilarious, and laughter is perfect for healing the mind.

Focusing on something non-COVID-19 related is also helpful. Because this virus has changed our lives so dramatically, seemingly overnight, it's challenging to find other places to focus our attention. But it's also so important to do just that. I am currently between books, but I need to see what's available on my Kindle queue and jump into another time and place. In addition, Seth and I have been watching a Book of Mormon video each night just before bed. Immersed in scriptures, we forget about coronavirus, even if just for 20 minutes, making solid, restorative sleep way more likely.

And then, there's always food! Anyone else obsessed with the next meal or snack? It's like I don't get to go anywhere, and I don't get face-to-face interaction with anyone outside my family, so dang it, I deserve to eat! I've joked that the "19" in COVID-19 represents the number of pounds, on average, people will gain during this quarantine, except I'm only half joking. Be careful. I've been keeping with my intermittent fasting plan and, as mentioned above, walking lots. But during my eating  hours, around 11:00 a.m. and 6:00 p.m., all I want is sugar and fat, and every yummy combination of those. Eeeeek!

Like trekking through mud, we made it to April. And we will make it to May. And June. And however long this thing goes on. We will follow the guidelines set up by those who understand it better than we do. We will not be in church by Easter. We will not return to business-as-usual the day after. We're smarter than that. We will stay home. We will do it, no matter how hard it is, because at this moment, it is absolutely our most selfless act of love.

Like trekking through mud, we made it to April.