Although I've always had an abundant supply of milk, I only nursed my first three children for a short time before giving up and switching to the bottle. Breastfeeding was too messy, my clothes and bedding were always soaked, I didn't know how to feed my babies discreetly so it was very inconvenient for me to take the babies out in public, I didn't like being the only one who could get up and feed the baby in the middle of the night and had bought into the modern idea that husbands should share this responsibility equally, plus, I could get formula for free through the WIC program.

I didn't realize until later that because of my own selfish and immature attitude towards my babies, their health suffered considerably due to my decision not to breastfeed. Two of the girls were hospitalized for failure to thrive - they could not tolerate formula and eventually had to be fed goat's milk. The girls had chronic stomach pain, they were thin and pale with dark circles under their eyes. They were slow learners and had difficulty concentrating. Every time we took them out in public (which, unfortunately, was often) they would catch colds, flu, or something worse. All of these problems could have been avoided if I had continued to breastfeed.

While pregnant with our fourth baby, Hazelle, I became determined to nurse in order to provide our baby with the maximum health benefits of breastmilk. I read several books on breastfeeding, talked extensively with our midwife about the various problems I'd encountered in the past, and joined the local Le Leche League group for support from other breastfeeding moms. I also read "Breastfeeding and Natural Child Spacing: How Natural Mothering Spaces Babies" by Sheila Kippley. In her book, Kippley advocates what she termed "ecological breastfeeding" - meaning no bottles, no pacifiers, night nursing (baby sleeps with mom), limited time away from baby. In other words, nurse the baby round-the-clock and mom will not ovulate - thus the added breastfeeding benefit of natural child spacing. I filed this information away in the back of my brain although I was not terribly interested in natural child spacing since this pregnancy was the result of my husband, Warren's vasectomy reversal and we were looking forward to having a large family.

My first three deliveries were all by c-section - all unnecessary. I was completely uneducated about childbirth and frightened into allowing the obstetricians to take the fast & easy (for them) route. With our first reversal baby I was determined to have no more c-sections so we chose a lay midwife and were planning a home delivery. Despite all my efforts, I ended up transferring to the hospital after 24 hours of unproductive labor and was given a fourth cesarean. I was terribly disappointed! Due to the traumatic nature of the delivery my faith was very weak - I could not understand why God would allow me to see how unnecessary those first three c-sections were and learn so much about natural childbirth - only for me to end up at a hospital full of hostile doctors and nurses who seemed determined to punish me for being so bold as to attempt a homebirth after three cesareans.

Although I knew that our decision to trust the Lord with our "family planning" was right, I was not in any hurry to get pregnant again. I knew that in all likelihood, I would be having all future babies via cesarean and I was quite devastated by that knowledge. All of the sudden, Sheila Kippley's book became very important to me. My midwife also encouraged me in "ecologically breastfeeding" baby Hazelle - she showed me how to nurse in bed so that I did not lose a lot of sleep, we gave no pacifiers, and did not introduce solids until Hazelle was ready to eat table foods on her own at about one year of age. By nursing Hazelle "round the clock" in this manner, my cycles did not return until I quit nursing at 17 months - by that time I'd had time to heal both physically & emotionally and was feeling ready for another baby.

It didn't take long! Within two months, we were expecting our fifth child. I was very optimistic and felt I had the Lord's assurance that this would be a healthy pregnancy resulting in a natural delivery. On June 20, 1998 - only minutes short of being a Father's Day gift, our first son, Kent "Andrew" was born at home with no complications! Praise God! I'm still high from the sense of accomplishment and triumph which the Lord has given me!

I'd had such a wonderful breastfeeding experience with Hazelle and since Warren & I were both convinced of all the benefits of ecological breastfeeding - not only for health, but for the child's emotional security resulting in a more contented baby, convenience of not losing sleep with the baby in our bed, bonding of mother & child, less mess, less expense, etc. - we naturally assumed that I would nurse Andrew exclusively for an extended period. However, when Andrew was 10 months old I began having difficulties. Whenever I would nurse the baby, I would get sores and it felt as though Andrew was grinding his teeth while he nursed. The midwife thought he might not be latching on properly so I tried repositioning him. I nursed him in the football hold position and that seemed to help for a couple of days, but then the sores returned. I called the local La Leche League leader who, after doing extensive research, told me that according to everything she knew it is impossible for a baby to bite while nursing because the tongue would be in the way. "Well, he's obviously found a way to do it," I complained, "because I'm bleeding." The LLL leader called others in the League, I also talked to a hospital lactation consultant, another midwife, as well as all the other breastfeeding mothers I knew, and finally a naturopathic doctor, but to no avail. I could not find a solution, so I began pumping my milk and feeding it to Andrew in a sippy cup.

At that time, Andrew had not seriously begun eating solids and it was very difficult for him to make the transition. Since he had been sleeping with me and nursing through the night, we now had to train him to sleep in a playpen because I could no longer nurse him. I continued to pump, but Andrew was not drinking much of my milk and was having trouble adjusting to solid foods. Friends supplied us with goat's milk, but he did not really drink that either. Poor guy! He was so hungry - and he just wanted his Mommy so badly! One night, as I was sitting on the floor in the bedroom preparing to use the electric pump, Andrew crawled up on my lap - he had lost about three pounds and was obviously miserable - I couldn't resist nursing my little babe! As he nursed, the expression on Andrew's face was of pure bliss - he relaxed for the first time in a month and when he finished he was smiling. But I was bleeding again! "Dear Lord! Please show me what is wrong! Why can't I nurse my baby?!" I prayed. But the Lord gave me no solution. I felt that God was deliberately withholding understanding from me for some reason that I could not tell. By the time Andrew was 12 months old he was eating normally and beginning to gain back the weight he had lost - I quit pumping milk for him though he had quit drinking it much earlier.

Two months later, we were expecting our sixth child. This came as no surprise as it seemed to be a pattern with me that I never had a cycle while breastfeeding, but within two months of weaning I would get pregnant. One day in late October 1999, when I was about three months along, Andrew pulled a cup of scalding hot coffee down on himself. I heard him scream and then saw him jumping up and down, tearing at his clothes. I quickly pulled his t-shirt off and when I did, his skin came off too! I rushed him to the hospital where he spent a week with 2nd and 3rd degree burns covering 25% of his body. The poor little guy was in such terrible pain that it took four shots of morphine in the emergency room just to make him reasonably comfortable. I stayed with Andrew in the pediatric ward for the entire week - not leaving him for more than a few minutes at a time. How I wished that I could nurse my little boy to comfort him! At that time, I was completely distressed by the fact that I had been forced to quit nursing him so early - yes, I was glad for the new baby that was coming - but couldn't the Lord have waited to send this blessing? Would a few more months have made such a big difference? "Why, Lord? Why did I have to stop nursing Andrew?"

Our fifth daughter, Lydia Jean was born on May 6, 2000 after a short and easy delivery. We again practiced ecological breastfeeding - Lydia fit in so easily with our family and was a very contented, easy-going baby. Then at six months, I began to get the sores again - this time I knew that the baby was not biting me because Lydia did not yet have any teeth! I called the LLL leader and it did not take long for us to figure out the reason for the sores - yeast! Of course! It was so obvious - I battled Candida constantly and my babies always had thrush. This condition was easily treated and I could continue nursing. Why couldn't I see that with Andrew?!! Since the solution to my breastfeeding problem was so easily identified, I could only believe that the Lord had blinded me and all those that I had consulted with when I was getting the sores with Andrew. I had no idea why, but there could be no other explanation.

The day after Thanksgiving 2001, my grandmother was hospitalized - at first we thought she may have suffered a mild stroke, but a CAT Scan revealed that she had Stage IV lung cancer which had spread to her brain. Grandma was given a life expectancy of about three months and was admitted to St. Joseph's nursing home. I visited Grandma every day, often taking the children along. Lydia Jean was 19 months old at that time and was very popular with all the nursing home residents. Although Grandma had expressed concern to find out that I was pregnant "AGAIN" with Lydia, she was always so delighted to see the baby, calling her "Grandma's Sweetheart!"

The Lord has blessed Lydia with exceptional verbal ability - she started talking at 9 months and speaks very clearly and precisely. By the time Grandma entered the nursing home, Lydia was talking in full sentences - which was so cute in a baby so young! At the nursing home, Lydia quickly learned to pronounce the names of all of Grandma's new friends, "Hello, Margaret!" "I love you, Lorraine!" "Merry Christmas, Helen!" Hearing their names spoken by such a precious little babe always thrilled the ladies and, of course, Grandma was oh so proud of her great-granddaughter. Grandma told me to be sure and bring Lydia to visit during meal times when all the residents were gathered in the cafeteria so everyone could enjoy Grandma's Sweetheart.

In December, I often dressed Lydia in her Christmas outfit when we went to visit Grandma - she wore a red velvet dress and I put pigtails in her hair with red & green curling ribbons and jingle bells - so adorable! Our oldest daughter, Angel would take Lydia from room to room visiting the elderly, making lots of friends and bringing Christmas joy to all.

Grandma's condition quickly worsened and she was in a great deal of pain. St. Joe's was a decent place when she could do much of her own care, but as she became more dependent on others for her daily care - dressing, eating, going to the toilet - it became apparent that Grandma needed almost constant care which the nursing home could not provide. One day, the aides left Grandma sitting too long in a chair after giving her Milk of Magnesia - Grandma tried her best to wait, but ended up making a huge mess which was very humiliating for her. Each day she was becoming more discouraged and depressed. During this time, Lydia brought joy and humor to an otherwise dreary situation. One evening, Lydia tripped over Grandma's serving tray and fell on her bottom. "Ow! Lydia hurt her bunns!" she exclaimed very clearly - this really set Grandma to laughing. As she picked herself up off the floor, Lydia very sweetly looked to Mom for comfort, "You kiss it, Mommy!" Grandma laughed at that until she cried!

Near Christmas it became apparent that Grandma could no longer tolerate the nursing home - she so hated the place that she was becoming combative and threatening suicide, "I'm getting out of here one way or the other!" After much consultation regarding her wishes, we decided to bring Grandma home to our house the day after Christmas. She was still reluctant to "be a burden" to our family, but after much reassurance that we were more than willing to care for her, Grandma gratefully accepted our offer to live with our family.

On her first night in our home, Grandma was visibly more relaxed. She was relieved as we settled her for the night in a regular twin bed (she had bruised herself terribly on the rails of the hospital bed) and shut out all the lights so she could sleep in a darkened room (the lights at the nursing home had kept her from sleeping well for nearly a month). I asked Grandma if she wanted the door closed to keep the children out, but she insisted that she wanted her "little angels" to come in and out of her room whenever they wished.

Because of the difficulty in getting Grandma into our small bathroom (Grandma had lost all use of her left side and had to be carried), we purchased some disposable undergarments for her. Grandma greatly appreciated not having to get up to use the toilet and joked with us about her new "diapers." That evening, as we were tucking Grandma into bed, Lydia repeated the conversation that she had heard earlier, "Grandma has diapers!"

"That's right!" Grandma laughed. I offered her a drink of juice from a spill-proof cup with a straw.

"That's Grandma's bottle!" Lydia exclaimed - by now Grandma was holding her sides with laughter. "Put Grandma in a playpen!" Lydia's innocent remark sent Grandma into hysterics and she again laughed until she cried - as was so common when Grandma and Lydia were together.

"Yes, Sweetheart - your Grandma's like a little baby now. I've got my diaper and my bottle - now I need a playpen!"

Grandma went to sleep contented that evening after receiving hugs & kisses and lots of "I love you's" from her six great-grandchildren. On Friday morning, Grandma's body began to shut down and she lost her ability to swallow, so was not able to eat or even take sips of water from that point on. She was in much pain which we were able to manage as best as we could with the help of the Hospice nurses.

On Saturday, my mother, brother, and sister, along with their families were all gathered to see Grandma - we shared a meal and cried together. Grandma had been unresponsive and unable to speak all day, but that evening Lydia Jean went into her room and said "Hi, Grandma!" Grandma smiled and reached her hand out. Then Lydia said, "I love you, Grandma!" and Grandma, as best she could, said, "I love you too!" - it was a very touching moment for all of us. Grandma's last words were to her Sweetheart. After that, she was only able to grunt or groan, her eyes glazed over, and we all speculated as to whether Grandma's spirit was still with us, or had she already passed on to be with Jesus?

Charlene Elizabeth Gibbs passed away in her sleep on Wednesday, January 2, 2002. It was our privilege to care for Grandma in our home before she died. Because the cancer spread so rapidly, Grandma suffered much pain which caused her depression and anxiety. We were only able to relieve so much of her discomfort with pain medicine, repositioning, an egg crate mattress, extra blankets when she was too cold and cool washcloths on her forehead when she was feverish, back and leg massages, Blistex and glisterin swabs, etc. But I believe the greatest comfort and joy came from Grandma's Sweetheart - Lydia Jean. The Lord sent His precious gift - our little Lydia - at just the right time to cheer her great-grandmother during her final days on this earth.