Happy Birthday, Baby!!!

Y'all, we have a baby! Who has been here two weeks. And we are smitten with our littlest!

Tuesday morning, August 20, I woke around 5am with contractions. Hard, painful contractions. The Engineer's alarm went off. He rose to shower and I said nothing...just bit my lip and counted through each contraction. About the time he was stepping out of the shower, I told him to stay home. I was pretty sure it was the real thing. 

He looked a little skeptical and asked me if I'd been timing them and I got a little snippy and suggested he go on to work and I'd just call him when the baby arrived. (Lovely. I know.) Around 7:30 my contractions tapered out. And I just knew I'd been wrong. It was false labor! Had to be. And here I'd told him to stay home from work. And I'd been a jerk about it.

He suggested we "get things moving." So I raked the driveway and a chunk of the backyard. And then headed inside to sit for a bit. Which quickly turned into me lying down. In the bedroom. With the door closed. 

The children watched TV. We'd had a false alarm two Sundays before. They weren't holding their breath. 

At 10am The Engineer decided we should go on and send the kids to a friend's house. I was still worried it was false labor. He wasn't. Our sweet friend arrived at 11. She stepped back to the bedroom to visit for a few minutes. By then, The Engineer had insisted I get dressed and make sure my things were ready to go. I was lying across the foot of our bed when my friend arrived. We talked for about ten minutes. I didn't have a contraction while she was here. Again, I was sure it was false labor...and was growing more mortified by the minute...The Engineer had stayed home. He'd called family and alerted them. The in-laws were on the way. My friend (who home schools) was sacrificing her entire day to keep our kids. Eek What if it wasn't the real thing!? 

She took the children. Three more contractions...The Engineer said it was time to go. I rose and began making my way to the car...still afraid it was false labor. (My contractions weren't regular - they were crazy...eight minutes, then two minutes, then five minutes, etc.) 

I saw the breakfast mess and declared I would NOT leave such a mess to come home to. And I began to clean. The Engineer was freaking out a little keeping things in perspective...promising he would clean it up later...would I just "GET IN THE CAR?! "

Two more contractions and I was dying. I got in the car. I made him pull over at the foot of our driveway...another contraction. And it hurt bad.

We pulled into the parking garage of the hospital. He found a spot near the entrance. It would be tight. He suggested I get out prior to pulling in...I got out. Contraction. Right beside a Mercedes. I was afraid to lean on it, for fear I'd set off an alarm. I put my hands on my thighs, bit my lip, and counted.

The car wouldn't fit. I got back in. We had to park elsewhere...we'd almost made it to the hospital entrance. Contraction. Good night they hurt.

We made it through the entrance and to the elevators. I could hear the doors opening as another contraction hit me. It was all I could do to remain standing while I leaned hard into The Engineer.

We made it to the L&D floor. The nurses sent me to Triage to be checked. Bam. Another contraction. I felt like I might fall over. I was still afraid it was false labor.

The nurse checked me. I was between 5-6 cm. It was the real deal. She stepped out and then popped her head back in, "You gonna want an epidural?" 

Fear gripped my heart. Dare I? My back hurt so bad during most of this pregnancy and I always bruise badly for several weeks from the epidural...and so towards the end of my pregnancy I'd decided I wanted to try and power through and have baby au natural...as in...without any pain meds. 

My OB had suggested I have a game plan for dealing with the pain. We read about the Bradley Method, thanks to a sweet friend's suggestion. That same dear friend told me if I went in planning to bite my lip, I'd bite right through it. She was tremendously supportive and helped me navigate planning/prepping for this new territory.

And so I answered, "no." And I was kind of scared. Afraid I wouldn't make it. Couldn't make it.

And so they wheeled me to L&D and called my doctor. I was lying on my side, gripping The Engineer's hand through each contraction. The nurse was precious and very supportive and even waited between contractions to mess with things like the belly monitor, etc.

My doctor popped in, checked me...this time I was between 6-7cm. She broke my water and told me to prep for super strong contractions. The nurse said, "oh they'll really pick up and get intense now." Y'all, I could not fathom anything stronger than what I was already feeling. And...when they broke my water, they discovered meconium...and explained that we shouldn't panic if baby didn't cry right off the bat...that they'd be handing baby off to the peds staff. My doctor stepped out.  

And my heart sank. I prayed. I reminded myself that God is sovereign. Over every detail. Even when it's not what we want. There was peace in my heart, but sadness as I pondered the reality that His ways aren't ours. Not my will, but His be done. And I wondered if it was a good thing I'd guarded my heart. If the worst happened, maybe it wouldn't hurt quite as bad.

I had one more contraction on my back and had to roll to my side. I promise they were worse on my back. I had another contraction and panic set in. I needed to push. STAT.

I yelled to the nurse. Another contraction. She needed me to roll over. I couldn't. It hurt too bad. Finally, I rolled. She took one look and The Engineer says she panicked...it was SO time to push. She was flying all over that room, calling for the doctor, grabbing things, etc. The peds/nursery staff came running in. Oh, it was exciting. My doctor came running in. She was rushing so and fumbling with her drape...telling me to "hang on."

Another contraction seized my body and she gave me the "go-ahead"...and it felt so good to push. I was gripping both sides of the bed. Freaking out a little bit. I mean, this wasn't my first rodeo, but I kinda never felt anything much with the others.

And then there was that awkward pause...where the contraction has passed and you're sitting there in stirrups and everyone is just hanging out. Waiting. And I'm thinking, "childbirth is so glamorous!" And then my thoughts shifted to my baby...I wanted baby out...away from the meconium.

Contraction. More pushing. The Engineer held my head up for me. Another break.

One more contraction and oh my - it hurt so bad. I just wanted baby OUT! Like - I would do anything, just get that baby OUT!! I've never felt anything like it. The ring of fire (which wasn't as bad as I'd imagined), the urge to push, etc. It was crazy. God made our bodies crazy intricate. Amazing.

I pushed hard. And got a little vocal. Baby's head was out. One more push and baby was completely out. I fell back in the bed, exhausted, my eyes closed. I was gasping for air. Relishing the empty feeling following birth. Not to mention how weird it felt to actually feel what had happened. Baby screamed. My heart breathed a sigh of relief.

And my doctor said, "It's a GIRL!!!!!" Y'all, I was so exhausted - just trying to breathe again - I smiled, but couldn't even open my eyes to see her. She quickly handed her over to peds. The Engineer didn't get to cut the cord. He stayed right by my side, holding my hand.

I'd finally caught my breath and looked over at baby. They were wrapping her up. She was just fine. Perfect, in fact. My heart beat with gratitude and thanksgiving. Baby girl was healthy and we'd done it. I birthed a baby without meds. And The Engineer had coached me through. And let me dig my nails into his hands. He'd held my head and encouraged me. We did it. 

They placed her on my chest and neither The Engineer nor I could stop the smiles. We stared and unwrapped our precious bundle. We called her by her name. I fed her. We traced her fingers and nose. It was magical. There is nothing more attractive than seeing my man with that wedding band on his finger holding our new baby.

And then they whisked her away for her bath, etc. The Engineer got to be a part of all of that. I stayed in bed and begged for a snack and advil. Only - things had happened so fast (about an hour and a half from arrival to baby in arms), none of the paper work or info had been entered into the computer. So no advil. I did get a coke. (smile)

And then the strangest thing happened. The nurse returned and I got up, out of that bed, and walked myself to the bathroom. Like - without assistance. And hello, no catheter this time!

They moved us to our room. I went in a wheelchair and upon arrival, got up out of that wheelchair and walked to the bed. The nurse gave me the low down and told me to call her the first time I got up out of bed. Hold up - no need to call. I was ready. And I got up out of that bed by myself. I was steady on my feet. I felt FANTASTIC!!

So here's the thing...natural childbirth is incredibly painful. My ectopic pregnancy is the only thing that could possibly compete with the pain level. But, when you forgo the epidural, when it's over, it's over. I liken it to a Dave Ramsey vacation. Pay cash and when the trip is over, it's over. It doesn't follow you home to be paid for later. If I knew then what I know now about the recovery, I would've gone natural every single time. And I am all for modern medicine! It's just, this experience was awesome. Amazing. And the recovery - oh my - SO MUCH better! The Engineer couldn't get over how quickly I was "myself" again.

The other thing about this experience is that things happened quickly and we missed out on taking any pics pre-delivery. We didn't even get a shot with my ob. And we certainly didn't get "it's a girl" on video...which makes me a tad bit sad, but it is what it is and the memories are precious.

Later that evening the grands arrived in town and gathered our older three and brought them to the hospital. My in-laws waited in the hall while we told the children. (We sent a mass text letting friends know baby was here, but withheld her gender so the children could find out first.) 

They were SO STINKIN' EXCITED! And it was so sweet to see the Lord give all three of them the desires of their hearts - and how precious that He would unite them on that front. The girls wanted a baby sister sooooo badly! And Little Man wanted a China brother soooooooo badly. They were thrilled. So thrilled, in fact, the grands heard their excitement and figured out we'd had a girl before they even set foot in the room.

And ha - Little Man was right! Maybe he does have a future in sonography!?

Because he'd been right (and because they were all bickering over who got to go first), The Engineer elected Little Man would hold her first. He was smitten. It was so sweet to see. The girls each took a turn and then the grands. We had a sweet, sweet visit and love spilled over.

A dear friend came right after that, with two HUGE slices of delicious chocolate dessert! It was amazing. Just what a new mama needed. We had a sweet visit and turned in for the night.

Baby girl (who is named for The Engineer's and my paternal grandmothers) had a full day on day two...girls from small group stopped in and there was all the busyness of the hospital and doctors buzzing in and out and a birth certificate to file, etc. By the end of 48 hours I was ready to head home. Sort of. I do enjoy the hospital stay. 

Head home we did. All SIX of us loaded up, snapped a few pics, and hit the road. It was a sweet homecoming. Sister wanted so badly to carry her new baby sis into the house. We let her. It was precious. They had decked out the house and Sister made the most precious poster that's ever been for her new sister. The table was set and there were pink balloons on the mailbox. The children had picked out a little gift for me in celebration of baby girl. 

Little Bit seemed a tad disinterested at first. Since then, she's pretty much fallen in love. We should've had three babies...one for each of the older siblings. They have struggled to share baby girl. It's both incredibly annoying and absolutely precious. We finally settled on giving them each ten minutes of alone time with her each day. This has gone a LONG way. 

Sister is a pro with baby girl and such a blessing to me! Little Man loves to "settle her" and insists he has the magic touch. And Little Bit is queen of waking baby girl at inopportune times as well as helping me change Baby Girl's diaper, which usually means a lot of interest in the mess that is in the diaper, rather than actually helping me change it {wink, wink}. But gather supplies she does!!

Little Bit has had a rough go of giving up the "baby" throne. She insists she's still "the baby!" Fine by me. For now. We'll hit our stride eventually and I'm okay with taking some time to get there.

Today, on baby girl"s two week birthday, we have our first day sans the fam. I teared up when my mil left and again when mama left. It was such a blessing to have help for so long, and yet it's such a blessing to be just "us" again, and to begin discovering what the new normal is. 

The Engineer left for work early this morning. The children and I got moving a little later. Our social worker was scheduled to arrive at ten to update our home study. I'd cleaned upstairs last night, laid out the kids' clothes, and had downstairs fairly picked up. (She needed to see baby girl as well as the nursery - which is another story all together.) Two out of three had meltdowns over the clothes they'd agreed to wear. One decided to sling a urine soaked pull-up around and around and threw it in the hall where it exploded. Said child took a broom and began trying to sweep the sticky gel mess into a pile. That was totally not effective. And the broom was nasty with gel bits. I lost my temper and yelled. I mean - it's just a social worker coming by to verify that we are doing well with this fourth child so she can update our homestudy so we can adopt a fifth child. Ha.

And there is nail polish all over the girls' toilet and bathroom floor and in their sink. I've just confiscated every bottle of nail polish owned by Little Bit. I've already had to apologize to the children for how ugly I've acted and spoken. Little Man jumped on the guest room bed and did flips, etc. WHILE the social worker was in there checking out the nursery (which is also the guest room) despite knowing he was disobeying plus my repeatedly telling him to stop. Sister is quite emotional. Little Bit has ponies all over the living room floor where the girls played while I visited with our social worker. And as I type this, Little Man has just dropped his lego box at the top of the stairs. It broke open and legos have showered down the steps - which makes a terrifyingly terrific sound...so there are 4.1 million legos EVERYWHERE. Baby girl has thrush...and so do I. Ouch! My goodness - it's painful. It's a little bit crazy over here, y'all. I'm a little overwhelmed today. Mostly by attitudes. But I suppose (and hope) a good bit of that is detox - from two weeks of fun times with the grands and the excitement of having a baby.

And this is just a season. And it will pass quickly.

For my benefit, and to keep things in perspective...We have a beautiful, healthy, precious baby girl and three other healthy children. Our adoption is rocking along. God is providing for us, above and beyond. It's crazy. And I may have shed a few tears, but it sure is good. And we'll figure it out soon enough. And we are thankful, so thankful. I am still in awe that God has given us this little one. That He knit her together in my womb. That she is fearfully and wonderfully made - with great intention and purpose! And still, I am in awe that she lived. That we made it. That God's perfectly sovereign plan was to sustain this precious little girl and to entrust her to us. I pray we will honor Him in the way we live the Gospel before her and I pray that He is already whispering to her, softening her heart, calling her to Himself.

Precious baby girl, flesh of my flesh, you are a wonderful, good and perfect gift from God. You are amazing and we are in awe of the gift of you. You are so loved, so celebrated, so rejoiced over! We love you, sweet girl!

8.20.13

7 lb 12 oz

20.25"

1:19 pm

Happy Birthday, baby girl!!

Whew

{progress in the kitchen - woop woop!} 

I've been gone so long and y'all are so precious! My goodness...thank you for all the sweet comments and emails and phone calls and texts. Y'all really know how to celebrate and cheer on a family! Thank you so much! We are beyond overwhelmed and excited about these little ones!!! 

Let's backtrack for a sec to Valentine's Day. I had all three children in Target. It was one of those trips where no one seems happy about anything and we had to pick out a birthday gift and I felt so, so nauseated - I was leaning on the buggy, burping silently, trying to get through without losing it. We passed the Valentine section and I decided to let the kids go ahead and pick their valentines. (Now, we used to make Valentines and it was so economical and so cute and fun and so "look what we made-squeel!" But the truth is, my kids (except Sister - who made hers, independently, I might add!) enjoy boxed valentines and that simplifies my life!) So we head down that aisle. Little Bit quickly chooses hers. Sister decided to craft her own. And Little Man - oh my! The kid COULD. NOT. DECIDE. 

He picked a different box for every child in his class. I kept telling him that he could get one box, not one box for each child. We were on that aisle forever trying to decide. Finally, because "George loves wrestling!" Little Man held up a box of valentines with wrestlers on the front. And y'all, I did not feel good. I was desperate. I gave the front of the box one glance. We are not a wrestling family. That would never be my choice. But again, I was desperate to leave and to be finished. So I said, "yes." 

On Valentine's eave he broke out the valentines and began trying to match each child in his class with the wrestler they "most look like." And when I saw the cards - I DIED!!! WHERE are their shirts!? And why are they all oily? I mean, seriously! I contemplated telling him not to put his name on them - to save face. If you bought these valentines I really hope I'm not offending you! This just isn't how we typically roll. The Engineer walked in and was like, "What is this?" I still laugh when I think about it.

{carefully warming hands} 

Both girls came down with fever last Sunday. By that night, Little Bit was throwing up. I was certain it was a stomach bug. Tuesday morning both complained of sore throats and Sister had an awful red rash...back to the pediatrician. One look and he confirmed what my gut had already told me...Scarlet Fever...again! Sister bounced back quickly this time. However, Little Bit was puny and weak and tired and not herself until Friday night...she's almost back to "normal." Whew. 

So let me tell you about our last home study! It was in early January. We'd already had our first interview, which was over the phone jointly with our agency and social worker. The Engineer and I both concluded that interview with the understanding that all interviews could be conducted over the phone...so we set up interview number two, aka our first "Home Study Interview" for eight pm on a weeknight thinking it would be by phone. 

{Sister created a "fairy house"}  

Little Man had Karate that night, which put dinner a bit later. We scrambled to have the two youngest in bed by 7:59. Sister had promised to read quietly in our bedroom. I had both phones charged. I'd worked on cleaning the house that day - but oh the nausea! And so for the first time in a very long time, I didn't make our bed. I'd stripped all three children's beds, but hadn't gotten the freshly washed sheets (which I'd draped on the banister) back on their beds, so Little Bit was in a sleeping bag on the floor and Little Man was sleeping with his comforter only. The vacuum cleaner was out, cord plugged in. The sink was filled with dirty dinner dishes. Dirty clothes littered the floor in front of our washer and dryer. I hadn't made the children pick up at all that day, so toys were strewn everywhere. The house...was a wreck! I was just slipping into my pajamas when the phone rang. 

It was our social worker. Right on time! She began the conversation by asking if our house was brick? Confused, I told her it was...and slowly an awful, horrible, terrible realization began cementing itself in my conscious. "Are you...here?"

"Yes. I am walking up your driveway now." 

And I freaked! I told her we thought this was a phone interview and that I had just put on my pajamas, "give me a second to put my clothes back on and I"ll be at the front door." 

Y'all, I had NO time to do anything but put my clothes on.

And I opened the door. And there she was. And there we were. And there our house was. In all it's lived in, "mama's been sick with baby nausea" glory! Maybe I imagined it, but I'm pretty sure her eyes got wide as she took in her surroundings. She offered to reschedule. But I mean, the damage was done.

Now, not only would we get to talk about all our "dirty laundry" with her, she would SEE our actual dirty laundry! I assured her we were okay with proceeding with the meeting. After all, she had driven all that way and we had agreed to the date and time. And we could sit in the living room. That way she wouldn't see the wreck the rest of the house was.

And then she tells me that that night was also supposed to be the "home tour." ACK!!! Y'all, that is where they walk through your house to make sure it's suitable and safe and roomy enough for another child...I mean, I kept the children of a friend of mine for HOURS the day before their home study so she could clean the house and be ready...and here we were - in a worse than "normal messy" kind of way. She assured me the home tour isn't about how tidy a house is and that the mess would have no bearing on the results of our home study. Again, she offered to reschedule. 

And in my mind I'm weighing this out...do we walk her through and show her all our glorious mess? Or do I say "no" and we reschedule for a time when I know I can have the house sparkling? But will that make me look like I'm inflexible? I mean, which is the lesser of two evils? 

And so we walked through the house. I flushed toilets as we entered bathrooms. I kicked dirty undies into closets. She saw Little Bit in a sleeping bag on the floor. For whatever reason (hours of electrical searching and we are still clueless) the lights in Little Man's bathroom ceased working right then - with her in the bathroom, so we stumbled over lego men in the dark...it was totally HUMBLING. Oh y'all. It was awful! AWFUL!!

{100 Days Project...we used broken crayons and a heat gun - forget the hair dryer! (wink)}  

And then we had our meeting, during which we had a grand total of FIVE interruptions by children who were in defiant disobedience - including two episodes fraught with tears over parting with Warrior (which happened months earlier) - tears that hadn't been cried before, nor have been cried since. I was freezing cold, but sweating profusely the entire time from nerves. 

We've had a good laugh over that! We'll see if we still get to adopt. (wink, wink)

And then this morning - Sunday morning - was like playing "wack-a-mole" with our children...one child fussing because she doesn't like her outfit and doesn't want her hair fixed. Another child screaming and throwing a punch at a sibling because said sibling looked at her when I told her we didn't have time to do "pink tails." A man child insisting he was not cold, but rather hot in his shorts and short sleeved shirt, despite temps in the forties...The Engineer prayed for us all on the way to church. We get there and more ugly emotions spewed out over drawing during the service and about  what to draw on and what to draw with and "why does she get a pink crayon and I don't?" There were attitudes about participating and well - it was one of those Sundays where I just felt defeated. Like - why are we here, It's not worth the effort. Snot was running out of Little Man's nose - I leaned over and said, "Just wipe it on the inside of your jacket." Because I was desperate and we'd already dropped crayons and whined and been a distraction to everyone around us...sigh. Point being - it is worth it and this, training our children, that is part of how we honor and obey the Lord. In this season, this is part of our spiritual act of worship. It's just hard to remember that in the thick of it.

And then at the very end of a great sermon it hits me - we TOTALLY forgot about somewhere we were supposed to be yesterday. And a sick, sick feeling sunk in. It was the combined feeling of utter frustration, feeling sick to my stomach, a desire to kick myself, and wanting to burst into tears...wanting to turn back the clock...we missed Sister's last sculpture class. The one where they were going to glaze each piece! I was fighting tears. 

She has LOVED that class and is so proud of the pieces she made. And I forgot yesterday. The Engineer forgot yesterday. How in the world did we forget? It was on our calendar. She was excited about it. We were excited about it. But we did. We forgot. 

{a sneak peek...I am so excited!!!}  

As soon as church was over I took Sister's hands in my own and told her and apologized. She was quick to forgive. I assured her I would call to see if there was any chance she could make it up...but ugh! The disappointment. I am so sad.

And part of me thought, "why are we adopting? I can't even keep three kids' schedules straight...how am I going to do FIVE?" 

These things happen. Sigh. I just wish I hadn't dropped the ball. And there is forgiveness. And grace. And I am thankful for that. 'Cause I just don't have my stuff together.

 {my precious, poor, darling little girl! soooo sick!} 

Today baby is fifteen weeks! We had an ultrasound Wednesday and things were looking super! After a rough start emotionally, I've been surprisingly at peace with this pregnancy. Instead of doing what comes naturally, which is to close my heart off to the hope of this baby, I've actively tried to choose to rejoice over this life God has given and to hold it with an open hand - all while the knowledge of what happened last time is a constant reminder of how fleeting life is. And so as I pulled up to the hospital for that ultrasound, I was caught a little off guard when a choking sob broke out. I was more anxious than I'd realized. And I was reminded of God's faithfulness and that I wouldn't be entering those hospital doors alone. 

A smile spread across my face when I saw our little one breakin' it down on the sonogram! I came home with baby's picture in hand and the children were jumping up and down nearly tearing it in two fighting to take a look. They frequently kiss my tummy. Little Bit informs me quite often of what the baby is doing or needs. 

{14.5 weeks}  

They...we...are becoming attached. And sometimes they ask, "what if it happens again?" And I think, "we're only at 15 weeks...2.5 more weeks...that's when we found out we'd lost our last baby." And I remember why it was so hard to let go. To pick up the pieces. To move forward. That's a long time to love a baby and think they'll be coming home to you. We have to preach the Gospel to ourselves frequently - and it is good. "Hard-good," as a dear friend calls such situations.

So anyway...life is flying by. I remember the scene in Lady and the Tramp when the calendar pages fly off the wall - that's what the days feel like as of late. It seems I blink and we are at the end of another week.

We have decided to keep all three children home next year. I am so excited! While the little school down the road has been a wonderful blessing to our family, I cannot wait to all be home all day each day, rather than jumping into the rat race that is carpool and school parties and school programs - Little man stayed home Monday-Wednesday of last week simply because we thought his becoming sick was inevitable (we were wrong!) and so we did school at home - and it was 8:15 and we were all together and working and it was so good and sweet. I know we'll have days when I want to yank out my hair, but we'll have good days, too. 

I was reading about a home that had just been remodeled and at the conclusion of the article, the designer said something to the effect of, "I mean, when else do you get to be in your forties (thirties for us) and be healthy and have young children? This isn't a dress rehearsal." And it's not. So I want to soak it in and breathe deeply of these sweet (and sometimes INSANE) days. Today, this is what He is calling us to. And He has shown that His grace is sufficient.

Do you know about Palmetto Cheese Spread? Prior to our move, I'd never heard of it. A friend brought us a container of it along with a loaf of bread shortly after we arrived. And it was really, really good. I'm picky about my pimento cheese. I used to only eat Mama's and my dear friend, Lucinda's. But Palmetto Cheese has rocked my culinary world. Toast some "good" bread and spread it on thick. So. Good. It has what I call a "kick." They call it "soul." Y'all, this stuff is good. (Find it at Costco) Go get some! 

Happy Monday, y'all!