overflowing

Elliot's nearing 4 weeks old now. It's funny; with every baby, I am amazed by how quickly the weeks fly by and yet I am simultaneously awed by the strange fact that 4 weeks ago I didn't know who my baby was. How has he not always been part of our lives? How did we ever feel like a family without him?

So quickly and instantaneously are our hearts enraptured with this newest member! It speaks tremendously to me of God's great heart toward us and I find myself so humbled by what a wonderful Father He is.

Six kiddos is... busy.

And I love it. I really and truly do. Sure, I want to pull my hair out at times. And yes, I've collapsed into bed more than one night in the past 4 weeks and cried because I'm not sure I'm actually cut out for all this.

This has been our first real week here at home of Finding Our New Normal and that means we're still a long way from finding anything even remotely resembling a predictable rhythm, but we sure are doing our best! I'm trying my hardest to just laugh off those moments when Elliot is crying unendingly, Claire is screaming after her latest injury, Aubrey is hounding me with a million and two questions, Jackson is needing help with math, Bronwyn is singing at the top of her lungs, and Gabriel is drumming with pencils on the dining room table instead of practicing handwriting.

(And, no, I didn't come up with all that for dramatic effect-- that was an actual scene around here just yesterday!)

Because for all those moments, there are also the ones when we're circled around the table and my heart is overwhelmed by the amazing goodness that surrounds me. There are the moments when I am rocking and whispering Elliot to sleep, and Gabriel is making lunch, and Bronwyn is reading to Claire, and Jackson and Aubrey are giggling together over their latest Magna Doodle sketch, and I think to myself that I am the luckiest woman in the world. There are the moments when I tuck them into bed and it doesn't matter that Elliot is fussing or that Claire fell off the stool while brushing her teeth or that Jackson took too long getting into pajamas or even that Bronwyn and Gabriel argued over who should use the bathroom first-- because I get to be here for even those moments and that in and of itself is such a gift.

I love it.

(And, yes, if you think you've read a couple times now about Elliot crying/fussing, it's because my sweet little man does just that an awful lot. We love him tons and tons, but he is apparently having difficulty adjusting to us!)

I even love it when the stress of the moment starts to cave in on me and I feel like I will be crushed by my own inadequacies because it's in those very moments as I'm realizing [again] just how unfaithful I am that I realize afresh just how sufficient and faithful He is. God grants me repentance, gives me perspective, produces within me peace and joy and love, and reassures me that He is the One performing a good work.

And, ohmy, have I mentioned yet just how much I love this baby of mine?

I do!

And I hold him so much.

So much, I tell you.

I want to memorize each day and every detail. I hate that I will forget. I breathe in and breathe out gift after gift after gift-- sadly enough, without even noticing most of the time.

I don't want to take any of it, any of them, for granted. Not ever. My life is overflowing!

 

Elliot's arrival, part 3

[part 1 and part 2]

The regional perinatal center has (I believe) 4 doctors and 2 midwives on staff. As it turned out, this was one of their weekends when none of their regular practitioners were on call. Dr. Lenny knew the woman who was going to be covering for them and told us that she was really nice. That said, it was a bit of a disappointment.

Until Dr. Lenny was there at the hospital with one of his patients who had come in (as it turned out, she went home without delivering) and my covering physician agreed to let him do the delivery if we wanted. So our choice was to go with someone I'd never met or opt for someone who knew me and my preferences/philosophy well. It was a no-brainer, if he really was up for it, and he said he was.

Another check at about 11:15am after paperwork and a 20-minute strip on the baby: I was 7cm and 90%. Baby was still high.

Thankfully, Dr. Lenny was insisting on giving me intermittent monitoring (much to some of the residents' chagrin) and so I got to get up and walk, hoping that would help get the baby where he/she needed to be. Contractions were intensifying and I was continuing to gush fluid. And that was around the time when we realized that the fluid was stained with meconium. It ended up being nothing to worry about (as is often the case, I guess), but it was something to be aware of.

I have to say that from around noon until 3:30 or so, everything is kind of hazy. Things felt timeless in many ways, and not just because the military time on the digital clock in the room was throwing me off (though it was!). The contractions were intense and frequent. Every time I would get a "break," I'd realize afterwards that it was only that those two contractions happened to be 5 minutes apart instead of the 2 or 2-1/2 minutes apart that they mostly were. Despite the frequency of the contractions, I was progressing slowly, slowly, slowly from 7 to 8 to 9 and finally to 10 centimeters. And slowly, slowly, slowly, the baby was moving down.

If you've ever been in labor, you know that "slowly" is not what you want at that point in the game.

This was the first time I've ever seriously feared whether or not I had the physical stamina to finish. I do wonder if my severely anemic condition going into delivery contributed to that. In the past, I've reached points where I've not wanted to finish, but I'd never before so strongly doubted myself and whether or not I could. I am so thankful for Daniel, Mom, Camilla, Carina, Louissa, and Liana all telling me over and over again that I could. I needed their encouragement so much-- and how good God was to arrange things so that they were all there giving me just that.

Finally I got the urge to push and the clearance to do so. Again, I was gripped by fear that I physically couldn't. I felt so, so, so tired. Again, I was surrounded (literally) by the best group of cheerleaders a laboring woman could ever find. Seriously.

I pushed perhaps the longest this time out of all my deliveries, but it was still probably only 4 or 5 contractions or so worth of pushing. And there was rest between the contractions-- rest I desperately needed and was so thankful for.

At 4:03pm, he arrived. He cried immediately, a healthy, strong cry. I cried. They put him on me right away. I was amazed by how big he felt (though not surprised)! I was so glad to be done.

And for the first time ever, the placenta delivered with absolutely no effort on my part. I was physically wiped out, so that was an incredible blessing.

Not a single tear. No bruising. My hemoglobin was 8 on Wednesday; yesterday, 12 hours after the delivery, it had only dropped to 7. I lost very little blood. I feel amazing. Traveling home yesterday wasn't a bit uncomfortable and although I feel tired today, it's more of an I-haven't-slept-enough-in-the-past-two-days tired than anything else.

Elliot Hale
"My God is the Lord; hero"
9lbs, 8oz; 21"

We are blessed!

Pics to come...

 

Elliot's arrival, part 2

[Continued from part 1]

After I called Daniel, I laid back down. It had already been a poor night's sleep and I knew I needed as much rest as I could get. The contractions continued, but I wasn't paying much attention to the frequency, instead just letting myself drift in and out of sleep as much as possible. Daniel told me to call and give updates, which I did at about 4:15am. He asked if I should call Louissa, who was going to be joining us, since she could get to me faster than him. I told him yes.

I'm not certain about times, but I think Louissa and Josiah arrived at 6am or so. Then Daniel, Mom, and Camilla at 6:30am. This was also when the Marottas were alerted to what was going on; I hadn't wanted to disturb anyone any sooner since this was a doctor's home and sleep a precious commodity!

Jayne, of course, started making a big breakfast for the arrivals. I took a shower, continuing to contract all the while. It was a pleasant, calm, happy environment-- the exact opposite of a hospital, in my opinion! I had worship music playing in the guest apartment bedroom, which was where I spent most of that morning laboring, either sitting on the floor in a butterfly position with my back against the warm radiator (which helped with the lower back pain) or kneeling at the bed so I could sway and try to help get the baby in a better position.

At around 8am Dr. Lenny, who had run up to his office to grab a Doppler and a few medical supplies, offered to check me and see how things were progressing. I was 5cm and about 80% effaced, and Baby sounded "happy". With Claire, I went from that point to delivery in about 2 hours, but with Jackson it had taken much longer-- and since this baby's position was still less than ideal and much like Jackson's, I tried to mentally prepare for a scenario more like that.

I continued to labor. Louissa timed contractions and kept me company for a while so Daniel could eat.

I was loving the way things were unfolding. I couldn't have a home birth because of my previous c-section with Aubrey, but this had much the same sense of ease. I was surrounded by people I love and trust. I had an OB-GYN helping me track things so that we could hopefully best time the arrival at the hospital. I was in a comfortable bedroom where I felt completely calm. Things really were working out so much better than I had ever envisioned, and it was only the beginning.

At 9:30am Dr. Lenny checked me again. 6cm and 90%. Baby was still high, though, and my cervix rather posterior. Contractions weren't long (averaging around 50 seconds), but they were gradually increasing in frequency (down to about 4 minutes apart) and were obviously doing work, which is always encouraging to a laboring mama! Josiah took over timing contractions (what a good sport!) and I opted to continue hanging out right where I was. Dr. Lenny didn't want me to wait too, too long (and get him in trouble over at the hospital!), but it seemed like there was a slow, steady pace and I felt like I wanted at least another hour.

10:20am, after a good, strong contraction, I sat back from my kneeling position at the bed and suddenly there was a gush as my water broke. Everybody sprang into action at that point since the only other time my membranes had ruptured spontaneously (and not been ruptured by my midwife or doc just before pushing) was with Claire and she had arrived probably less than 30 minutes later. Josiah drove Daniel and I to the hospital with Mom, Louissa, and Camilla following behind.

They got me into a room pretty quickly and rushed me through admission paperwork.

The thing is, we had quite a bit of time left. I was about the prove-- like I had with Jackson!-- that transition can last many, many hours.

To be continued...

 

Elliot's arrival, part 1

Elliot Hale was born on Saturday, March 31st, at 4:03pm.

But his birth story begins several days beforehand, really.

It was Tuesday, the 27th. I had an appointment in Syracuse at the regional perinatal center. The next day was my due date. When Daniel and I left home that morning to make the 2-1/2 hour trek down, we brought overnight bags, the infant car seat, etc. in case they told us they didn't want us going home-- though I must say that in light of my history of going late, I was hoping they wouldn't.

At the appointment, I wasn't much progressed from the week before (2cm, somewhat effaced, baby still "floating") so they said, "Go home!"

Yay!

We stopped in Watertown (about the halfway point) to get something to eat since it was mid-afternoon and we hadn't had anything since breakfast. Hopped back in the car. 30 minutes later, I'd had about 6 good contractions. Daniel decided we should turn around, do some "shopping" in Watertown, and see what happened-- it would be easier to go back to Syracuse from there than to come all the way home only to head back down. We picked up some odds and ends at Target and browsed the entire store. I continued to have contractions, but they weren't intensifying and they were slowing down, so we decided to head home.

The contractions continued, but weren't hurting.

When we arrived home, my sister had put the kids to bed and I followed suit (those day trips to Syracuse were tiring!). I dozed on and off between contractions, but at 11pm when they had continued consistently at 5-6 minute intervals, Daniel (who had been timing them for about an hour at that point) said he thought we should go. Neither of us were interested in a roadside delivery, but we were very torn just the same because we also didn't want any false alarms.

Well, we got our false alarm, but it ended up being all for the best, really.

It was about 3am on Wednesday (due date) when we finally arrived at the hospital. I was still contracting regularly, but I had only progressed [maybe] a centimeter from earlier that day.

And then, the contractions gradually stopped. The baby's head was slightly turned and not putting quite the right amount of good pressure on my cervix, which was eerily reminiscent of my labor with Jackson (his started on a Wednesday night and ended on a Sunday afternoon with his delivery).

[What I didn't know then was just how similar the two births would be.]

At around 11am they started me on pitocin to see if that would get the contractions back into a regular pattern. It did cause them to pattern, but having been in labor before, I knew they weren't nearly painful enough to be doing much work. By the end of the day, not much had changed. The midwife was going to have me stay overnight so they could insert a foley balloon and then resume pit the next day, but I asked if I might be discharged instead, provided I stayed local with some friends. They agreed and so Daniel and I wound up at the home of our faithful friends, the Marottas, where we slept long and hard.

The next day, I encouraged Daniel and my mom and sisters (who had also come down since they were planning to be present at the birth) to all return home, though I would stay. I had never wanted to be hanging out in Syracuse just waiting for labor to start, but after the day before, I was more convinced than ever that I also didn't want to be induced-- and now I'd had quite a revelation of just how tricky timing a departure to a hospital 140 miles away from home could be. Staying in Syracuse, despite missing the kids and home and normal routines, relieved all the pressure, and the Marottas were eagerly inviting me to do just that.

Thursday and Friday were spent being spoiled by Jayne. I went to bed Friday evening after a wonderful steak dinner with plans of getting a pedicure (!) the next morning and spending another day relaxing, taking walks, etc. I'd had a couple more noticeable contractions just before retiring, but I wasn't thinking too much after the previous few days.

At about 11:30pm I woke up and thought, "Hmm. I wonder if these are the real thing."

Not wanting to sound an alarm falsely or too early, I decided to just do my best to sleep. I dozed on and off and between contractions, but around 2am I started to think I should locate a phone and maybe call Daniel just to let him know what was going on (he had no idea at that point). I found a phone, but then hesitated. Daniel had a morning commitment in Madrid that day and I hated to call him down too soon. A bit later, I decided to go ahead and call, but I told him not to leave; just to make sure he had his things ready "in case."

At 3:30, after several contractions that really required my attention, I called and told him to come.

To be continued...