I woke up this morning knowing it was January 5th (which I don't normally know what the day of the week or the date) but today was special, today was my youngest son's 2nd birthday. As I stoked the fire, my mind wandered back to the frustrations and concerns from yesterday. The concerns varied. The school shooting was at the top of the list. Knowing how many people were hurting, even if they weren't directly affected from the act of a poor, lost soul. It then wandered to the things that plagued me the morning before as I stoked the fire. It seems I do a lot of thinking while sitting on one of my sons' mini chairs, reviving life back into the fire that kept us warm throughout the day.
Yesterday morning seemed so stressful. I still had so much to do, so much to get accomplished before heading back to school. Yesterday morning my mind went from knowing I hadn't posted my first blog post of 2024, I hadn't successfully filmed my first tutorial for 2024 because I had two strong-willed, energetic boys who loved to test their mother's patience and also wanted to be a part of everything I was doing, especially when it involved anything in the kitchen. I caught myself realizing how silly it seemed to be worried about blog posts, video tutorials, rabbit and chicken pens that weren't finished, which hens to breed to which roosters, how many shirts and sweatshirts should be ordered for the 1A state wrestling tournament we were hosting and what cakes I'd be creating for my children's birthdays (one that was happening TODAY). What I realized was all these things that were a cause of concern or frustration were just signs of "progress" or what I ultimately see as growth and movement. I have food on my table, two awesomely challenging children who make me want to be better for us and for the world we are leaving for them. I started thinking about what TODAY was going to look like. These are the things I KNEW it was Brick's birthday, I knew my chinchilla rex doe finally had a successful litter of healthy babies, we were all alive and healthy, we lived under a roof with a wood stove going and a woodshed full of wood for the season. I couldn't help but be thankful and grateful for the things that were "concerning" to me in my little world. Facebook and my photos app also reminded me this was a day of New Beginnings.
11 years ago I was at my Nana's house in Southern California visiting and enjoying the sunshine.
10 years ago today, Mysha and I were loving on my Grandma and were providing end of life care (luckily for us her "less than a month left" turned into 9 months).
9 years ago today I dug my first razor clam with my favorite partner in crime and was instantly hooked.
8 years ago today I was prepping food for the boat and for the first time in 4 years would not be pulling pots opening day of crab season because I was back to teaching high school.
7 years ago today I was on the boat pulling crab pots because I realized that was much more healing for my soul than teaching, so I was enjoying my "mental health days" kissing sculpin and measuring crab off the Oregon and Washington coast.
6 years ago today I was at my Nana's house redoing her downstairs and installing a kitchen and dining space to make a studio apartment, she even let me paint the walls crazy colors and get rainbow dishes to match!
5 years ago today I got up to feed cows 9 months pregnant and on "bedrest" but both Dr. Whitaker and I knew my bedrest was different than most. I was staring at a stomach I couldn't believe was mine, watching an alien move around inside, with little hands, feet and elbows making sure I knew it was there.
4 years ago today I took in my first rescue rabbit, Petunia. She made her first home in the mudroom and Bridger (and I honestly) were instantly in love.
3 years ago today I posted my first official "Live Video Tutorial" on Bridgering The Gap - Life In Rural America on making sourdough starter.
And 2 years ago today, two years ago today, Brick was born. And he made a big entrance into this world and made way for a new way of life. A New Beginning. You can read his birth story below.
But what does all this mean? Today marks a day of new beginnings for us and we will continue that tradition. Today we will continue to journey into 2024 where big things are finally coming together. Bridgering The Gap - Life In Rural America is currently awaiting our 501(c)3 tax-exempt status from the IRS, has a non-profit status in the State of Oregon and will be participating in foraging excursions funded by the Farm to School Child Nutrition Program Education funds issued to the Oregon Department of Education. We are extremely thankful for this opportunity to provide the same services we've been providing but finally being able to recoup some costs for our time and resources!
We are excited for what 2024 has to bring and we will continue to update our blog, the website, social media platforms and alllll the things as best we can while still providing the best services for a sustainable, self-reliant education program for today and for our future.
Brick's Birth Story
Two years ago today, I woke up and got ready for school. I had personal stress, professional stress and being 33 weeks pregnant, had physical stress. It was like any other Tuesday, I guess. My morning classes went fine, it was the second day back from Christmas Break, so we were back in the swing of all things science. I remember having to pee which, as a pregnant mama, should be no surprise to anyone. Lunch rolled around and it was an emotional roller coaster, but I had to pull it together to get back to “teaching the youth of America” (Plus they were my happy place). I remember continuing to have the urge to pee, but by 7th period, we had 50 minutes of class until the end of the day, surely I could hold it… The urges got more frequent and the timing became more consistent. I was in my tiny little science classroom with 7th and 8th graders learning about cells and cell organelles when, luckily for me, I looked toward the back of my room at Megan Myers and asked, “How would I know if I’m having contractions?!” Her response, “Oh, YOU’LL KNOW!”
Now, as some of you might be a little confused as I had Bridger three years earlier, so of course I knew what 41 hours of contractions felt like, the difference was I was put on Pitocin and induced, so didn’t really know what Braxton-Hicks felt like or “natural contractions” maybe.
I panicked, grabbed my phone and immediately opened my pregnancy app and started the contraction timer. I continued teaching, each time the urge to pee started, I’d start the timer, each time it ceased, I’d stop the timer. After three times of starting and stopping the timer, I looked at the clock, it was 3:13 pm, only 11 minutes after I had asked Megan the question. I stopped, looked down at my timer and realized it was every 3:15 seconds and they lasted 60-75 seconds each. These weren’t urges to pee, they had to be contractions… but I pushed that thought into the back of my mind and continued talking about the mitochondria or the powerhouse of the cell, the ribosomes or the protein synthesizers and so on, all the while starting and stopping the timer. By 3:30, I was hunched over and was in pain. The kids noticed by now and asked if we “could just clean up for the day?” Of course, great idea! As the bell rang at 3:35, the kids left, some staying behind to ask if I needed anything. Sweet, sweet kids some of you raised! Thank you for that! The snow was really starting to come down, the cows needed fed, I had no cell phone service at my house and no one would be home except me for the next few hours. I called Julie and asked where she was and if I could come stay with her a while until these “Braxton Hicks contractions stopped” and of course she said yes. Megan drove me to Amanda’s house and by the time I got there it was 3:47 pm. I had called the hospital and the front desk person said it had to be Braxton Hicks but she’d send a message back to Dr. Whitaker. I confirmed the timing and the duration, at this point they were every 2-2:30 minutes lasting 1-1:30 minutes each and I couldn’t stand, I felt like I needed to be on the toilet and my mind and body were no longer in my control. I remember trying to be calm. I remember watching the snowflakes accumulate at what seemed like record speed. I remember being on the toilet when Amanda answered the phone when the nurse from GRH called back. The verdict was to get to the hospital immediately, I was in labor and they needed to try and stop it.
I wasn’t able to go until Brian got to the house and drove me to the hospital. I was a disaster. I remember thinking so many thoughts, so many questions,I thought to myself “what-if?, I should have… But now, we are here. Stare out the window and count the snowflakes and try not to pay attention to the driving or the conversation. Focus on breathing, taking control of calming your body, take control of focusing only on the 32 week being inside of your belly.”
We got to the hospital and Dr. Whitaker wasn’t there. WHAT?! How could she NOT be there?! SHE was the reason we came here! She is the ONLY person who can save this!! Were all the thoughts running through my head.
I was so fortunate the first go-round with Bridger because we had people we knew and trusted caring for us. Tanya and Chelsie talked us through every step of the way, talked sense into us when it was needed, shared insight and calmed all the fears and answered the unknowns. This time I knew no one. I didn’t trust what was happening. I was guarded physically and emotionally and now I was in labor at 33 weeks. The nurses were all talking, trying to make a plan, trying to get a hold of Dr. Whitaker, talking about this medicine and that, checking to see if I was dilated, all the things Dr. Whitaker would do.
The phone rang. Another nurse came rushing in saying, “Don’t DO ANYTHING” Dr. Whitaker is on her way and she doesn’t want us doing anything!” Awesome! Wait, what? Why not? What? I noticed tears were streaming down my face about as consistent as the snow falling outside the window.
Dr. Whitaker finally arrived and looked at me shaking her head. “You just HAVE to keep it interesting, don’t ya? You know you can’t have this baby yet! It’s not fully cooked!” There was a reason I switched to her for the first pregnancy and there was a reason I trusted her with this one…. After lots of talking, looking, checking monitors, checking dilation, she started to lose the playful, joking demeanor. There would be no drugs, no stopping my labor and she said “Well, it looks like we are going to be having this baby.” Phone call after phone call. Airport: closed, Lifeflight: shut down, Freeways: closed. Whitaker rocked in her chair staring out the window saying, “This baby can’t be born here.” Finally, at 7:10, after 6 failed attempts, St. Al’s found an ambulance crew to transport the NICU team, respiratory therapist and surfactant to GRH, IF they could get past the closed freeways. My job was to remain as calm and controlled as possible. Try NOT to have a baby until they get here.
Thank you, COVID, for the protocols in place, only one member was allowed with you and no switching out at the hospital. Luckily, my aunt Nancy lived just down the road and was there to support me in anyway a “mother” could, which this time around was not pleasant, I’m sure. Once my mom got there, the OB ward allowed them to switch out. What a mess. We looked at each other, grabbed hands and just cried. Then, we attempted to get it together and focus on NOT having a baby.
At this point, I’d had one ultrasound early on, but the machine was broken so didn’t get any pictures and my 20-week ultrasound. We chose not to know what we were having again, but we knew in our guts it was a boy. We hadn’t really settled on a name and really hadn’t talked about more than one, which started as a joke. I kept watching the clock, a bunch of nurses, aides, doctors were in and out. They were setting up telehealth video monitors, holding meetings to update progress and plans. It was almost 8. My water broke. I remember crying, sobbing actually. I was tired, I was scared and I was not the person my baby needed right now, but I was the ONLY person it had, so I had to be good enough. Labor was fast, much faster than the 36 hours of labor and 4.5 hours of pushing with Bridger, that’s for sure. They had a whole team ready to take the baby and try to keep it alive until the NICU team got here. Baby Boy was born at 8:26 pm and immediately swept away to the office. I remember seeing him, he seemed so much bigger than I thought he was going to be. When the nurses came back 10 minutes later to report he was alive and breathing, they announced he weighed 3 lb 10 oz. Dr. Whitaker and I looked at each other with confusion. I asked if that was accurate? He seemed so much bigger. She agreed. After checking again, we had a 5 lb 2 oz baby boy who was alive and breathing!! Brian was able (not pleasant for him as he reports and can’t really blame him) to watch him be resuscitated and watched as the nurses take turns pumping the breathing bag for him. We didn’t have an incubator and we didn’t have surfactant, which if you don’t know, reduces surface tension in the lungs and helps reduce the risk of the air sacs collapsing. It is harvested from cattle when they are slaughtered and has significantly increased the survival rates of premie babies. Another perk to raising cattle. But, back to the story.
My next sole purpose was to try and produce milk. I pumped, and pumped and pumped. The nurses said I could take a break at any time, but I knew that I needed to try to get my baby some milk. That was his best chance at starting out this next section of his difficult journey in a positive direction. As I pumped, they came to update me on Baby Boy’s progress. He was breathing on his own for the most part, which was amazing. The ambulance crew was coming, they were just making it slow and steady with an ETA of 11 pm. I had to get something, ANYTHING, for my baby to eat. Finally, after what seemed like hours, which was almost two hours of pumping, milk started trickling into the suction cups. I broke down into tears. How were DROPS going to feed any baby?! I can’t even produce milk for him. But, a celebration broke out from the nursing staff! They quickly got a syringe and started sucking up every drop. We had just under 1 ml of milk. How could they possibly be celebrating 1 ml of milk? Turns out, my baby only needed 0.5 ml for his first feed and another 0.5 ml for his second feed 4 hours later.
I was finally able to go see my baby. They wheeled me in to the office, where there seemed to be 100 people, video screens, people on phones, people getting short with each other for differing opinions or doctors not listening, which actually was quite humorous at that point and in the grand scheme of things, trivial to the fact I was able to hold my babies hand. He was breathing. He was ALIVE. Julie was able to switch my mom out so she could support her son and see her grandbaby. I was thankful for her, for so many reasons! At 11:53 pm the NICU team finally arrived. Everyone parted ways and let them take over. Such an amazingly knowledgeable team and so friendly! It was like they did this for a living! Everyone was impressed with how well our little man was doing. They then asked Brian and I if we had a name before transporting him to Boise. We both looked at each other and I hesitantly said, “B r i c k?” The nurse replied, “Brick? How do you spell that?” Well, just like it sounds. “Brick Bryant Crawford. Brick - B R I C K. Brick. Bryant after his great uncle, Crawford after my grandpa and Julie’s grandpa.” We had talked early on about how intimidating it would be to wrestle a kid named, “Brick.” And, Bridger was obsessed with babies and his baby doll was named “Baby Brick” so the transition just made sense, and it was really the only name we had talked about.
I pumped again while the NICU team was getting Brick ready for transport. This time getting 1.5 ml. Enough to feed my baby for almost an entire day. I would be released at 8:26 am and we would head to Boise to St. Al’s to spend the next two months with our child in the NICU. At 1:32 am they wheeled him out of the hospital doors toward the ambulance and our next adventure began.