And so...
A due date. Mid September. The 17th to be exact. Or 18th, depending on whose calculations you were going by. A whirlwind of a summer. Somehow June became September, and that was that! Typically, I do not go late. Not barely by a day. If anything, a day or two-three early. Thirty-eight weeks really means just two more weeks, not four, and that I knew. We closed up shop for the pool, put it away. Always a major accomplishment each summer. This time it spelled relief in a whole different way. I finished up projects that kept those last few weeks fun despite the growing awareness, pains, and discomforts that this baby was gearing up for an exit OUT. We settled into an early nighttime and bedtime routine. We could have a baby tonight!, the famous last words. Rest was needed, even for Gabe as he clearly was fighting something off and only keeping it at bay.
Warning! Some birth related vocabulary ahead.
Wednesday, September 16th, around 9:30am I passed some bloody show. (GASP!) Again, now would be a good time to exit if that made you throw up a little. Nothing else accompanied it. No start to contractions, though I figured those could come within a few hours to the next 24-48 hours to maybe even TWO weeks. The Internet is SO very helpful when you search key words such as when will I have my baby?
Our day went on. We did school and mowed the lawn. I showered and spent the afternoon resting just in case. I did fill my small birthing team in on a possible imminent labor, just for a heads up, though made it very clear it could be nothing as well as something. I really wanted to be more on the ball in reading my body/progress this time. I'll be honest, it's very hard for me. This time proved just the same. I told my mom of my surprise findings (one in the morning and another in the afternoon) and she assured me, it would be soon! Moms just know.
Ready (or not) for anything!
The afternoon consisted of nothing more than what felt like Braxton Hicks contractions with maybe a tad more 'umph'. I knew as soon as any kind of rhythm was established I needed to sound the alarms. Around 4-4:30 I did notice the start of that lower back pain and very mild, slightly predictable contractions. I informed my midwife that at that point I'd be more comfortable if she were here should things pick up. In the past, 'pick up' can mean 20 minutes later...
My two friends serving as assistants headed over and started setting up. I made dinner for my babies. Gabe picked up milk and a few things at the store and came home per my request. Julia, a good friend, came to watch the other kids. The remaining three friends slowly trickled in. I remember when the last two walked in. I made eye contact and briefly smiled. Somehow in that very moment my emotions started to get the best of me as I made way for another contraction to hit and with it the realization that this was indeed it. Gabe could tell I was struggling. His matter of fact words whispered that I needed to hear, "You better get a handle of yourself", seemed rather abrasive and yet just what I needed. It would soon be go time and there was no time for tears. I'll be honest, days leading up to that point and even in that very moment, I really struggled as I braced myself for what I knew was ahead. It just doesn't get any easier the more you have a go at it.
I think by 5:30 all were assembled. Things were getting set up and then finished. We were all down in the kitchen/main floor area. The island has always been my resting place. Contractions were being timed. The longest only lasting maybe 50-55 seconds with the majority more like 30-40. Somehow in my head I was certain they had to be longer in order to be doing much of anything. Frequency wasn't matching duration and I wondered when they would reach that one to one and a half minute in length. These were certainly gaining in intensity. Looking back I realize I am still learning how my body labors. Yes, six of them later! Notes for next time: it's all just quick. Contractions- quick. Active time- quick. Transition- a couple minutes. I don't need that minute to minute and a half. Short hard ones are just as effective and efficient for me and Regina just knew that. Maybe it was the way I was breathing or standing, but she just knew.
I was later told these next two pictures were around 6:15. He was born at 6:38.
A cherry tomato, anyone?
??
How does that even work?!
Up to the room she ordered! I remember thinking that if we got up there and things were still like this (in my head I didn't think I could be that close) I could always come back down. It was hot that day and the downstairs cool from the AC. Our tiny bedroom upstairs where I wished to deliver, not so much. I also must be doing during labor. The thought of being confined in any way until pushing just doesn't work for me. I walked up the stairs to what felt like to my doom, my death. Pushing just gets me every time.
One last time to empty my bladder. It was while in the bathroom that I looked at Gabe and said, "I think I'm ready!" As if my brain had finally caught up to my body! And I really truly felt ready. Emotionally, I was in a good place.
Sophia was anticipating attending the birth for months! She attended the rehearsal weeks prior, asked all kinds of questions leading up to it, and we shared in the anticipation of witnessing the birth together. She watched me through contractions by the island and gave a hug here and there when they were over. I felt an urgency to be strong for her. To take what felt like a doom and walk it out in grace for her to tangibly see. It was empowering and actually helpful to redirect those moments (of honestly just wanting to curl up in a corner and die knowing what awaited) to remembering just who was watching me. Her. Only the Lord helped me to do that, because that corner was looking awfully inviting!
A few more contractions by the side of the bed (two)and Regina asked if I wanted to deliver standing up! Heavens NO! Just me needing to be doing and not confined! I assured her I would move when it was time. And then, mere seconds later, it was! Pillows arranged. Gabe into position. I prefer the help of gravity in some fashion as opposed to lying down. Some catching of my breath. And, WOW. It really took my breath away. I knew it hurt but this felt excruciating in a way I had never experienced before. I heard head almost out, and... hand.
Hand. Hand. Hand...?? What does that mean? I tried to wrap my head around what that even meant. Was I delivering as a mother horse delivers? Hooves first? What did 'hand' mean for me and next steps. I started to panic.
No other instructions as the pain seemed to escalate. It was awfully quiet. Regina is so very calm. I remember finding the strength to say, "Tell me what to do!"
Regina lead me through it, and then it was done. And for that compound delivery, the hardest delivery I have had. Still relatively quick and uneventful, but a level of pain I had not yet experienced. No tearing and no affect to my recovery period. I know that is because Regina is a midwife unlike many.
Sophia's job was to announce the gender. She couldn't see what it was but her face was ecstatic! And it never changed even after learning it was a boy. She told me that he was still a good gift. She loved watching the birth and she loves this baby. I'm thankful for her and the automatic God given heart for babies and the valuing of all life that comes straight from His very own. She just gets it. All the kids do.
8 lbs 10 oz
He was born at 6:38pm. He struggled to nurse for the longest time in those first moments and probably the most since having Asher (first time mom for me then). He needed ample help. He was likely used to a hand (his favorite method of sucking while in utero) and therefore very much the cause of birth with a hand. Obviously he was not about to let that go in the midst of a tumultuous time! Poor guy. Some years of experience really aided me in those first moments to keep at it and not lose heart. Of course, we figured it out. I was thankful I could help my boy.
He has had his awake periods by day and groggy nursing times in the night since the start. First thoughts upon seeing his precious face and round little nose were those of Liam and my father, and yet, he has his very own special look. They always do! It's sweet and gentle. He's quiet and prefers me. Lemuel left my nest a bit ago to run wild and free with the pack (that's Dad!). This is a fleeting and short season (in the grand scheme of it all) that I have grown to love immensely. I am the center of it all.
My two littles were taken back with grandparents. That was an incredible blessing. If you are looking for ways to help a mom who just had a baby, take her little guys! My three older ones stayed to help with chores and ease my recovery period. They did just that, waiting on me AND Gabe hand and foot. (Gabe came down with the flu.) One particular morning, Gabe and I broke out in laughter because the kids came to his side of the bed first with coffee and breakfast. I think they just knew he was hurting more than Mom. Or at least he gave that impression :-)
Those first few days, even first week, were entirely special. It is in that time only that you are given one job and one job only, also only the strength for... baby. Look at baby. Nurse baby. Hold baby. Bond with baby. Take care of baby. Take pictures of baby and stare at them! Stay in bed and love this new little person who takes everything out of you and more! It is a miracle in and of itself. And so, they fall right into their new role in the family and it is as if they have been there all along.
In many, MANY, ways they really truly have!
Of course he looks nothing like this now! These are just a few of my absolute favorites.
Only one other baby has had the same forehead wrinkles like this, Liam.
One big future noggin comin' right up!
So little! Those creases on their legs. Here and then gone! I was sure to snap a picture and I am SO glad I did.
Because he sacrifices hugging me and room to sleep for his babies!
6 weeks!
What a blessing of a boy!
