When I was pregnant with Ezra, I wasn't sure how my heart was going to find room for her. I knew that it would, everyone tells you your heart grows and expands with each new child, but I just couldn't picture it - how? With Judah, my heart grew before he began to. My heart was open and ready and I waited 17 months to fill that new space.
Walking along the Oregon Coast in June, 2016, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I wasn't just ready to start talking about it or even to just start trying. I didn't feel ready at the possibility of being pregnant, I felt ready to have a baby. To hold a baby. My baby. To grow our family by one. Right then, my heart grew. It expanded just enough for Judah to live inside it next to his siblings. Only he wasn't there yet. I had to wait.
Three weeks later and he is still seeping into all the corners of that new space in my heart, expanding his stay and deepening his hold on my heart with every new sound, every gassy smile and every little grasp of my finger.
- - -
Somewhere around 36 weeks, we set an induction date. While I was hoping (and expecting) not to meet it, I was in pain, unbelievably uncomfortable, anxious, excited and incredibly impatient, so we made plans for a November 2nd delivery. At each passing week I became more and more discouraged at my lack of progress - I was only dilated to a 2 at 39 weeks whereas my other two would have been in my arms for several days. I was ready.
We called into labor and delivery at 7am on the 2nd to make sure they had a bed available for my scheduled 8am induction. I wasn't surprised to find the hospital full and my induction pushed back - "call back in two hours". While it never ceased to surprise me, once we hit noon and the hospital was still full, I became disappointed and felt defeated. Was this really not happening today? At 2pm I called back for the fourth time not expecting anything to have changed and preparing my heart for more bad news, when she told me they had a room available and I should come in. I think my actual response was, "what?!" It was obviously the statement I was hoping for but I wasn't prepared to hear it! This was really happening!? I broke out into a nervous laughter and admitted to Stephen, "I don't want to do this!" I had been so focused on my discomfort throughout this pregnancy, and all the unknowns, I didn't stop to think about the delivery much. But time was up and I actually had to
have the baby...!
Living across the street from the hospital has its perks and we were there and checking in just a half hour later. Over the next two hours we got settled in and I got hooked up. We waited through one round of antibiotics before they started Pitocin and broke my water - everything was moving along swiftly and smoothly. I was only dilated to a 3 but having contractions about every 3 minutes, though they were almost painless. I overheard my nurse ask Stephen if I had a high pain tolerance (which I do not think I do!) because the monitor was suggesting active labor while I wasn't feeling anything quite so intense.
After an hour of laboring we called for the epidural. Truthfully, I wasn't in too much pain, but I knew, and my doctor kept telling me, that things would move pretty quickly once I reached go time and I didn't want to be unprepared - the sooner I had the epidural, the better. The anesthesiologist was great - kind and efficient - and the epidural itself went in well and worked like I was hoping, but my reaction to it was a bit dramatic. While I'm not a huge fan of needles, blood draws, IVs the like, I had made it through my prior two epidurals without a problem. This time, just as she was about to finish up, I started to feel light headed. I held the feeling at bay for as long as I could but it kept creeping up, getting more intense. I started to get hot and sweaty and knew if I didn't lay down soon I would get sick and pass out. I kept telling them, "I needed to lay down, I need to lay down". I couldn't open my eyes and everything felt so heavy - staying still and upright was so challenging in the moment. Stephen and our nurse, Sarah, worked at keeping me up and cool while I gave the anesthesiologist the go ahead to finish up. As soon as she was done I laid down on my side and waited for the feeling to subside. I felt so embarrassed that my reaction had been so dramatic - I have no idea why my body reacted that way - but I was happy that it was in and working and that I had made it through without falling off the bed...!
Shortly after the epidural was in, now about 6:00, I started to shiver and get really shaky. I felt nervous, almost. I remembered feeling that way during Ezra's labor and it was right as I dilated to a ten and was ready to push. There was no way...? I told Stephen, asking him if he remembered me feeling that way right before Ezra was born, and he and the nurse decided I should be checked right away. I felt no urge to push but I could tell something was happening in my body and it had me very aware. Surprisingly, I was only dilated to a 4, but as she was checking me, just one little push on my cervix and I dilated to a 5. She called my doctor back in knowing that I wasn't ready yet but thinking with that much progress from one touch, I would be soon.
My doctor decided to put a catheter in, giving the baby more room to move down, and at 7:00 I was dilated to an 8. The baby's heartrate kept dipping after each contraction, making my doctor and nurse assumed it was go time, but I kept assuring them that while I felt pressure, I felt no urge to push. My epidural was great in that I could feel the beginning, height and end of each contraction, and I could feel the pressure of the baby moving and pushing down, but without the intense pain. I felt like I was able to be apart of my labor - aware and engaged, focused and enjoying the process (as much as one can in that situation!)
I looked at the clock at 7:10 and jokingly said, "Well, 7:11 is out of the question! Baby's coming soon but not
that soon!" Five minutes later, at 7:15, I felt it. The urge to push. It came on like a tidal wave, strong and intense. I
had to push. My doctor helped me get into position and asked me to push with the next contraction. One push in and he was asking me to stop - the baby was
right there and he wasn't ready! I had to hold my push through the next contraction and it was awful. The pain of holding that urge back was more intense than the contractions had been - I was ready,
baby was ready and I
had to push. Once my doctor had everything ready, and Stephen was gloved, I was able to push through the next contraction. Three pushes, one contraction and there he was. At 7:19 pm, delivered into his daddy's hands and placed on my chest... There he was! ...A boy! My Judah! He was here!
I had opened my eyes right as Stephen finished guiding him out and held him up, announcing "it's a boy!" with genuine joy and surprise in his voice. The relief I felt as he came out and was placed on me was overpowering. I had waited so long and was so ready and finally...he was here! We faced a couple scares during our pregnancy and faced a couple unknowns, his gender included!, and finally, all of that was becoming clear. The unknowns were known. There were no more surprises. It was over. And everything was okay... He was here. He was healthy. And he was a HE...! While I was elated and those moments were filled with palpable joy, it was also overwhelming for me and I spent the next several hours in a bit of shock, disbelieving that this was really my life - an unbelievably supportive and loving husband at my side, two sweet and eager babies at home awaiting news of their new little sibling and a new, beautiful,
healthy baby boy on my chest... Thank you, Lord.
Throughout labor, as the reality and the nerves and the excitement set in, I kept reaching for Stephen's hand, sharing knowing looks of wonder, worry and joy with him. In those moments, as I gripped onto him hoping to grasp at some of his strength and optimism, I felt as though we were sharing silent prayers. Did you feel it too, Stephen? We were not the only ones in that delivery room. The Lord tested my physical strength, my patience and my allegiance to Him all through this pregnancy. But He did not leave me then and He did not leave me in those final hours. He was there with me. And once Judah had joined us earth side, all I kept thinking was "thank you, Lord, thank you, Lord, thank you, Lord!"
They kept him on my chest for at least an hour after he was born but time was lost to me. They cleaned him up best they could as he snuggled on my chest and then we just sat there, staring at each other, finally meeting and figuring out who each other was. Not knowing his gender during pregnancy was difficult for me and while I felt like I bonded to him right away, I feel like I'm still just getting to know him. Those first hours spent staring at him - his surprisingly blonde hair, alert blue eyes, crazy long toes and petite little mouth - it was surreal. I was finally holding my baby boy...!
He was 7 pounds, 12 ounces and 20 inches long. He was perfect. And I just couldn't believe it.
I kept crying, tearing up out of sheer joy and disbelief. "Oh my gosh! I can't believe it! He's here! It's a boy! He's a boy! It's over! This feels
so good!" The relief continued to wash over me long after he was born - I had no control over my emotions and was riding such a high. I was just so happy to have him
here, to no longer be pregnant. It was over. And everything was ok. He was here! And it felt
so good.
We were transferred to our teeny tiny shared recovery room (what a concept!) after a couple hours and spent just 24 hours a the hospital, high tailing it out of there as soon as Judah passed his newborn screening tests Friday night. We Facetimed the kids shortly after he was born to tell them they had a
brother, and they were able to come meet him the next day, but we were eager to get home and take advantage of Stephen's weekend off and snuggle up with all three (!!!) of our babies and start living this adventure.
I'm so grateful to have had a nurse I adored and a doctor I trusted and respected. I love that my dad was able to stay home with Uriah and Ezra and that my mom was able to be with us in the hospital capturing these moments - I am so grateful to have these pictures, mom. It has sort of miraculously worked out that my mom has been at all three of my deliveries though we've never lived in the same town. I am truly so grateful for those "coincidences" and I love that I have this day available to look back on as the years pass. Looking through them again and again since Judah's arrival and it makes me want to experience it all over again. Am I crazy?!
I'm unspeakably grateful for Stephen, who held my hand, fetched me water, rubbed my back, encouraged and comforted me, made me laugh, made me feel powerful and brought our baby earth side, where he continued to go above and beyond in taking care of me, Judah and our family. He's incredible, and it's not hard to miss. I love you, Stephen.
Most of all I'm grateful for my God. Who has had His hand on my Judah from day one. Thank you, Lord, for bringing my baby to me safely. Thank you for the trails we faced and the strength and trust it brought to our relationship. You are a good, good God.
He's here!
