Ella is One Month Old!

Ella! It can't be true!!!!
She has already been here for a month. I simply can't go over it. I will try to overcome my shock and get right to her one month fact.

1- Ella is just the sweetest little baby girl there ever was.

What more can I add...? Well, the technical stuff like...she is staying awake longer during the day and sleeping for longer at night. She is slowly uncurling her newborn self and experiencing the fun of leg kicking.
She sleeps well in her cradle swing and her swaddle blanket, she is on a good routine with more predictable sleep/wake times. Ella is a content baby and not very fussy. She calms down right away if she hears music or is sung to.
She is adored.

Jacob's Sister

Jacob has waited a long time to be a big brother. He has an awesome one as an example. He takes his role very seriously! He loves to ...love her. He is always kissing Ella and runs to see her as soon as he wakes up. He has begun carrying around his own babydoll to mimic what I am doing with Ella. I love watching him grow into this role!

Pink Baby

I am having so much fun with my little girl! Yes she gets her clothes changed one hundre- uh ...a few times a day...she wears a lot of pink and I have been trying to convince Daddy to let me paint her little toenails... she truly is a little doll! We love her little pink self so much!

Daughter

It is an interesting thing, a daughter.
I look at her and I see myself. All of the best parts of me. She is fresh, full of...anything. Everything.

Every baby girl born in this time, in this country, in this city, in this neighborhood. They are some of the most fortunate in the world.  Her opportunities and her freedoms are so many.
She will have a better life for being born right here. Her potential is limitless.

And I am her Mother.

I want so much for her, so much. I don't know how to give it to her.

I didn't know I would be in this crash course of Mothering suddenly when I panicked at the thought of missing something vital. Not instilling in her the full value and esteem she is worthy of.
I want so badly for her to know of her worth, her beauty, her purpose. I want her to know confidence, joy, love. I want her to have a heart softened in the right places but strong enough to hold firm in what she knows to be true. I want her to have an articulate tongue and a sharp mind. I want her to love her body and the miracle it will one day be capable of. I want her to be proud of who she is. I want her to value good relationships and know the joy of service. I want her to love herself and be at home in her skin. I want her to know how powerfully loved she is.

Oh it is daunting. To have a daughter. It hasn't even been four weeks.

I came across a thought finally that wrapped up my answer.
All of these things that I want so much for her. This beautiful girl, made of the best parts of me.

"Your Daughter will become what you are. So be who you want her to be."

So that is my answer...this little baby girl of mine. She has given me a new internal perspective as I comb through all the parts of "me" that will one day be reflected in her. 

As I come into my thirtieth year I am more keenly aware of some of the traits I have that I  would want a little more or less of. What a perfect opportunity to reflect on these changes before they are mirrored in her.

I am so excited to see the little girl and woman Ella will become. If her early infancy is any indicator...she is someone special.

The Birth

Elizabeth's birth was my most intense and the one I was least prepared for emotionally and physically. It has taken a couple of weeks to process the experience. I hope I can capture some of my thoughts about it here.

 On Monday I saw my (amazing, wonderful, awesome) midwife who confirmed that I had a closed, thick cervix and there wouldn't be a baby this week. I was happy with this news because we wanted to wait until Jon's treatment weekend was over. We decided to be more aggressive with natural induction method's the following week but I would have a quiet weekend trying NOT to go into labor in the meantime.


 Early Wednesday morning I started having some light, early contractions which I had actually never experienced in my earlier pregnancies I had just gone from nothing to full on labor. They were irregular, not painful but I was certain they meant SOMETHING.
"Oh no" , my (wonderful, awesome, amazing) midwife said, "third babies are funny...they do what they want and often third labors start with days of early labor".

As the day went on, I couldn't ignore them. I just had a feeling that THIS was it. Monica (the midwife...did I mention she is awesome?) was going to be off call that night and over the weekend so I called her one more time to ask if she was SURE I wasn't going to have a baby (many pregnant woman choose to believe that their pre natal care provider is also psychic).
She told me to come after hours at the clinic before she went home to do one more check to reassure me that these light contractions were not progressing anything and I could relax for the weekend.
Sure enough I was the same as I was two days earlier. I was both frustrated and relieved.
So I did groceries.
Funny thing about walking though...it can have the ability to pick up labor. As I walked through the grocery store these light crampings became a little more pronouced until I would call them real contractions.

But I wasn't having a baby this weekend. Nope. Monica said.
So I kept shopping. Bending over my cart while I tried to pick out bagels.

I was told the week before that my ten pound weight gain in the last seven days and my enormity was actually not due to baby but due to fluid. I had A LOT of fluid...we joked about my waters breaking and all the awkward places I could flood with such a gush. I immediately envisioned the grocery store...and the humiliation of such a thing...I realized that presently in the ice cream section.. with my uterus tempting the strength of these membranes with every cramp...my vision could become reality at any moment. I threw my last excusable pint of maple crunch into the cart and waddled to the till...praying to the amniotic fluid God and all things holy that I could keep it together until at least the parking lot.

Fortunately I stayed dry...and waddly (It is, I might add VERY difficult to walk with 15 pounds of fluid and 8 pounds of baby on ones pelvis).

By the time I got home I was cranky. The hormones must have started flying because anything that anyone said or did or didn't say or do was annoying. I was so snarky and miserable in fact that Jon took the boys upstairs to play. I put the groceries away while summoning all my maternal urges to be matronly and kind. My hormonal surge passed and I became fit to be around again when we put the boys to bed...in this distraction though I failed to notice a pattern emerging.

by 7 pm it was unmistakable...5 minutes apart...one minute long.

FIVE MINUTE APART...ONE MINUTE LONG.

That is labor.

Monica...despite her awesomeness...was wrong. We were having a baby today!!!

(In her defense...she did tell me later that she suspected and HOPED I would have a baby today...but didn't want to get my hopes up...) 

Then I got excited. Giddy...stupid excited.

To digress for just a moment...I should preface with the fact that I have been waiting for this baby girl for a long time. I have felt her for years (goodness knows I have been shopping for her for years....I talked about my baby girl in regular conversation frequently- "oh you have a daughter too? "Well...she isn't exactly here yet". I realize now that this may have been weird. But I knew this baby was coming to our family...it was just a matter of when. And now that when was NOW!

I couldn't stand it...I was going to meet our baby today!

I called my mom to tell her my labor suspicions but she dropped the phone and was on her way over before I could finish the sentence.

So I called Monica while we waited for my mom to come. But Monica was off call. I called my backup midwife and told her my exciting five minute news and she said..."hold on...I am going to call Monica" (Monica was pretty invested in Baby Betty at this point...I was not surprised she wanted to be there for the big event! I wouldn't have wanted to miss it!)
Sure enough..Monica called me back.

"Are we going to the hospital or am I coming to your house?"

For my last two births I had both a hospital bag packed and a home birth bin ready to go. I decide at the last minute. Like last time moving to the hospital just felt right.

Off we went. I continued to be stupid giddy...and talked Jon's ear off the whole way to the hospital.

We were having our baby! It was perfect. Perfect timing, perfect day to have a perfect baby. I was overjoyed.

We met Monica in the parking garage where I was nearly skipping into the hospital. She looked at me sideways and I realized I was suppose to be in labor...I faked summoned a few contractions then to let her know this was the real deal and she didn't cancel her dinner plans for a false alarm.

I had an hour to kill before the momentous  "rupturing of the membranes" was to take place which for me is when REAL labor starts.  I had to have a dose of antibiotics before delivery as I was strep B positive...a common bacteria that can be passed to baby during delivery.  So we hung out while the IV dripped and I breathed through some contractions (I was 7 centimeters dilated when we got to the hospital thankfully! and through my delirious elation at meeting our baby was really not in any pain at all).

We waited for a back up midwife to come to assist in breaking my waters...a somewhat awkward (um VERY) procedure but I was already at the "left my modesty at the door" place of labor and was excited to see the gush I was anticipating. Unfortunately it manifested in more of a trickle as baby's head was already far enough down that she was acting like a plug. That brief disappointment must have knocked out my adrenaline high because the next contraction was excruciating. EXCRUCIATING.
But I was nine centimeters dilated...I was so close. I could do this!

But then I had another one...it was worse. And another one on top of that.
I think this went on for ten hours.
Or ten minutes. Whatever it was I was sure I couldn't do it anymore. This was asking too much of someone.
The intensity was unlike I had experienced in the past.
 I think one projects in labor the emotional state they are in...and my emotions and stress for the duration of the pregnancy was admittedly high. They were culminating in this moment. I felt like I was less apart of my body at this point with the boys. I almost remember this last final stretch of labor from a bird's eye perspective with them...this time, I was much more present. Everything felt intensified and I truly thought a few times that I wasn't going to get through it. I begged Monica to make it stop (sometimes pregnant woman also believe that their prenatal care providers have super human powers) as I tried to convince her that I CANNOT DO THIS FOR ONE MORE SECOND!" It truly felt impossible, the pain was absolutely unbearable. Any yet...here I was, having to bear it anyway.
She tried to help me breath through them "That is one less one you will have to do" she offered reasonably.
But  I was certain she had the pain relief drugs in her special issue midwife bag and was holding out on me (sometimes woman in the end stages of labor also believe their midwifes to not TRULY expect them to do this naturally, when they discover how very UNNATURAL it feels! Surely they must pack propofol or morphine or something for special emergencies!)

She then suggested that I try a different position over the toilet as I wasn't quite ten centimeters dilated yet. I thought if I complied I might earn the drugs that wishfully she was holding back from me.In hope that this was case  Jon helped me walk to the bathroom. As soon as I sat down I had the strongest and most intense contraction yet.  I had enough dignity to consciously decide I would not die on a toilet and if I had another one like that, that was it so I hauled myself off the toilet (a feat in itself.)) and tried to get back to the bed. Halfway back in the middle of the room I felt a big rush of pressure that had my legs feel like they were going to collapse underneath me. Jon helped me get to the side of the bed when I felt an unmistakable burning. Still standing up I could feel her head coming down and then...begin to come OUT! I couldn't verbalize what I was feeling until I realized that there was no one around me and no one knew that she was coming NOW!

"She's coming" I managed to get out. Through the moaning, groaning, occasionally shrieking primal sounding woman that I had turned into (for awhile I didn't know where those noises where coming from. Then it dawned on me...that it was probably...me. Tee hee.) 

The midwives looked at me with sympathetic and supportive nods. They were both at least 4 feet away from me.

"let her come down" they said reassuringly.

"NO! She's coming OUT!" I could feel her continue to slide down and braced myself on the side of the bed as I felt my legs losing strength.  I did have a moment of clarity when I realized no one was behind me and I might have to catch this baby myself. I put my hand down and felt more of her head than I expected.

Amanda rushed behind me and confirmed what I was saying...

"Yup! Monica- NOW!"

Fortunately her little shoulder  got stuck and slowed down her exit. I was still standing at this point and the urge to push was too overpowering to obey instructions to not.

"Jenn! You need to listen to Monica now." I heard faintly, through my disobedient pushing. She was using her serious voice.
"Lift this leg up onto the bed and DO NOT PUSH".

She was asking the impossible and yet somehow I did it.

I felt the sudden release of her warm body and then...

The gush!

We knew it was coming...but no one was expecting it to come on the floor...all over the midwives, their shoes, and any bag or purse that happened to be in the near unfortunate vicinity. Yup. There was indeed a lot of fluid. I was,  in that moment very grateful that wasn't my white bedroom carpet. Funny the things we think of.

I was standing, facing the bed and she was still behind me, they were holding her while her cord blood transferred. It seemed like such a long time until I could reach for her. I looked for Jon- his tear streaked face told me what I expected- she was beautiful.

They passed her up through my legs and as I reached down to grab her slippery little pink body I felt a concoction of emotion. Here she was. Finally. I am about to meet her.

There is no drug as awesome as this. And why...again and again...I choose natural childbirth, the rush of the end is the most incredible experience and completly worth what precedes it. It is certainly earned.
 I am empowered, amazed and high on something that can't be bottled.


Yes. She was beautiful.
 She didn't cry.
She silently turned a rosy pink in front of me as she worked to inhale her first few breaths of air. Her big eyes locked with mine and that inevitable and powerful transformation began. I was no longer Mother to two. I was Mother of three. Mother of a Daughter.
I loved her instantly. My heart stretched and pulled and opened up just wide enough to fit her exactly in her place. This beautiful little girl.

I held her and nursed her for an hour before I let her go...when Jon got her I knew I wouldn't get her back...finally I handed her over to her Daddy, awkward at first,  he took her little self into his big arms and she found her place. In the next moment she looked like she belonged nowhere else as he confidently cradled her against his chest. 

I saw then, her timing. Her perfect timing. This wasn't about me. This was always about him. She came exactly when her Daddy needed her most. A precious little baby girl, who looks at him with eyes that are his to remind him and us what tomorrow is for. That through hard things, impossible things even, comes beauty unimaginable.

And then I fell in love with ...them.

Elizabeth got all the formal stuff over with her sweet midwives...weighing, vitamin K shot, checkup while Daddy hovered over her....that's his job. I watched them (Because no stitches were needed for me thankfully! Maybe standing is a well kept secret?!)
At about 3 am- 2 and a half hours after she was born we decided to go home and sleep in our own bed, with our little baby...so we packed up, and left poor Monica with my mess (oh my...what a mess!) Midwives are worth their weight in gold I tell you!

Jon was exhausted when we got home. I was still coming down off my birthing high and so Jon headed up to the guestroom while I had what has become my first night tradition of simply watching the awesomeness of my new little person. I held her and loved her until the sun came up and we were ready to share her.

Introducing Ella to her brothers was one of the happiest moments of my life. Watching Ben and Jake grow so close as brothers has been so heartwarming for me in the last two years, we were so happy to add to this sibling bond that is so strong. They had been SO excited to meet her. Their reaction did not disappoint. They gently unwrapped her in her blanket like a precious little present...which I suppose is exactly what she is. They are amazing brothers to her, I suspected no less.

 I cannot express what she means to our family. She is so  so loved. This little Elizabeth Annabella Joy.

8 pounds 14 ounces
20 inches long
Born June28th 12:40am 2012
Ten fingers, Ten toes.
miniature eyelashes and blond hair.
Perfect.

 8 centimeters dilated...still smiling...

 A few minutes old!

 The newborn hat from the hospital didn't fit her big head...

 Fortunately we brought an even cuter one with us!

 8 pounds 14 ounces

 Proud Daddy and his new baby girl!    


 Two hours later at 3am... we are on our way home!

Meeting her brothers! 

 

Getting her weigh in the next morning- One of the MANY reasons I love midwives! We get to have our checkups from home in bed for the first week! I don't know...does everyone ACTUALLY stay in bed? I don't know. But I CAN and so I will... and enjoy it immensely. It feels like 5 star postnatal care is what that is!

The Miracle of Elizabeth.

Surprise.
A little blue line...and then another. The box confirmed it was a positive.
Not planned for, but so very wanted.
We are so happy, excited and grateful that we are blessed to be parents again. Another precious baby. Could we be so fortunate?
It takes only moments for me to create a whole life in my mind and my heart. I have already held a sweet soft body close to mine. I have already rocked, sung to, and  prayed for this baby.  At this moment it may be a faceless, genderless baby the size of a poppy seed but it is ours. The dreams and wishes that hope and love create. A blessing that we love already.

"There is no heartbeat".

Those are words I had not imagined. The power of them so crushing.
I looked at the ultrasound technician.
I shook my head at her.
She looked at me like tragically she had looked at too many Mother's before.
I got up from the table and waited in the room for a few moments. Gathering my composure before facing a hopeful  Daddy, I was already feeling somehow like I was to blame. I don't want to do this. I don't want to be here. I wanted...a heartbeat. More desperately than I had ever wanted anything before I wanted this baby, no matter what.

I met with the doctor the next day. I sat numb in front of him.
7 weeks the ultrasound report said.
There should be a heartbeat.
What did I want to do?
What did I want to do?! I wanted my body to start growing this baby. I wanted that little seed on the screen to show life. I wanted God to step in, show me that He sees me. I wanted life to be fair.

"I am not doing anything without another ultrasound."
7 weeks. He looked sadly at me, unable to deny this woman on the verge of sobbing this last request he silently wrote me a requisition.

For a week I bartered, prayed and pleaded. I can love any baby You give me. I wanted to believe that hope and faith itself could restore life in my body, put things back on the course that I was more accustomed to. I didn't want to have to do hard things. This was a hard thing.

As the day approached, more quickly now, I had to move towards acceptance. I knew what was to be would be. I finally believed, that there may not be a baby. I had to know that God would give me what I needed to get through it. Jon and I sat for a moment in the car before we went into the clinic together.

We handed it over to God. Prayed for the strength to accept what was.
I felt strong. And sad.

I didn't breath while the technician poured her ointment over my stomach. I tried not to look at her face as she showed no hint of releasing prematurely the results on the screen.   She stared stoned faced at the monitor and then suddenly flipped it around at me.

"here is your baby".

An unmistakable flicker.

There was life. There was God.
He saw us.We saw His timing.


I was sick.
So sick. For 12 straight weeks I  concentrated on the clock. Until 5 o clock when Jon would come through the door and release me in my physical misery to my bedroom where I would pray for sleep. The only time I had relief from the constant nausea, exhaustion and migraine. But I was grateful. If this was what I had to do for this baby I would.

Jon took such good care of me. He never voiced any frustration or annoyance at what our life presented us in the Christmas season that was far from Merry in our home. He was loving, compassionate and patient. I would be in the next few weeks grateful for his example when I would be in a position to then care for him.

When our entire world would come crashing down around us. With one word.

Cancer.

It happened to be colon cancer awareness month when Jon was diagnosed. When his fatigue and dizzy spells were not just something to brush off after all.

He became sick almost exactly at the onset of my second trimester when miraculously I had exactly the energy and stamina I needed to care for him and me and everyone else.

We saw God's timing. He saw us.


There was a woman who worked at a fabric store my mom used to frequent. Whenever she found the last of an item hiding in the back that a customer wanted, received exact change or cut the fabric to the desired amount and met the end of the role she would declare "there's God". This habit of finding Him in our day was contagious and ever since my mom and I have declared the same when met with a convenient "coincidence".

We were having some big "There's God" moments.

Despite our grief at Jon's diagnosis we were strong. I was strong, for this baby that forced me to eat, and sleep and laugh. I needed that baby, right then. God knew what was coming when he sent our baby to us, so unexpectedly, so against the odds. We discovered that a side effect of Jon's treatment may likely end our chances of having more children. We were so grateful again that she came when she did, God knew better.
He showed us the worth of this life to our family by reminding us how fragile it is when we waited and wanted for 7 long days. He showed us we could get through hard things together, somehow when I was sick. He gave us small insights into the depth of our strength before putting us in the deep end of life. He showed us how involved He is in our lives and asked for our trust. We were able to give it to him. Hand it over and in His timing we said we could accept what came.
"If he gets you to it" as they say... "He will get you through it".

He has.

At 19 weeks we forgot about surgeon appointments, oncology, specialists, pills, sleepless nights and stress for an afternoon and eagerly awaited the ultrasound technicians voice.

There SHE was.

She has been such a joy to us, during such a time of hardship and struggle. What a beautiful interruption from what life had become. An endless timeline of appointments and packing for our move. We could pause when it became too much and focus on the reminder of my growing stomach that life goes on, it is good and He sees us.

The one issue that continued to upset me the most was the thought that Jon wouldn't be able to attend her birth. His chemotherapy appointments fell on Fridays. He had one on her due date. He wears a pump for 47 hours that drains the drugs into his chest and then has a detox period of 3 days. During this 6 day span he is considered "toxic" and he could not accompany me to the labor and delivery floor. Pregnant and nursing woman cannot go into the chemo suite at the hospital and so he cannot bring it onto a floor of new babies and nursing mothers.
I was so torn.
If he couldn't be there than I didn't want anyone there.
my midwife suggested that we schedule an induction then.
I agreed to that and the day. I thought I would feel relieved at this but I did not. I was increasing risk to our baby, increasing risk of emergency surgery for myself if the induction didn't progress as planned. Which as 39 weeks...it may not considering I had my other babies at 41 and 42 weeks.
I called off the induction finally and sought faith instead.
God had showed His timing, and the perfection of it, considering things that only came into our knowledge after the fact. We decided together that we would again trust His timing.

As her due date approached my faith was rocky. I was so worried that I would go into labor without Jon there. I hated the thought of having to phone him to tell him I was leaving for the hospital without him.

The birth of every child is a miracle. The more I do it, the more I know it. I wanted so badly for him to wittness the birth of his daughter. I prayed and prayed. I hadn't asked for something specific for a long time. Usually I ask for strength of the generic God given kind to get through what He is about to throw at us next. But I prayed for this. "please please let Jon be at her delivery, we need this right now".
I went to sleep feeling peaceful.
I woke up in labor.

I gave birth to our daughter naturally at 39 weeks 6 days.
The day before her due date.
There was nothing done to induce her labor except heartfelt prayer.
Jon was there, beside me at every moment.

He sees us.

We are so grateful for this journey we are on. We have learned more about ourselves and life and God then we otherwise could have.

We are so grateful for her.

Elizabeth Annabella....Joy. 

Gramma's House

Every couple of weeks I take the boys to Gramma and Grampa's house for the morning. This is a new idea for me as my grandparents lived on the other side of the country when I was growing up. Despite my limited visits with them however, the summers spent with my grandparents are some of my strongest and favorite memories. When we pull onto Gramma and Grampa's treelined street in a small town a little under twenty minutes away the boys get so excited. "There is Gramma's house!" (Yes...Grampa lives there too...but it remains Gramma's house!) I remember pulling into the driveway of my grandparents house after a long trip and the excitement I too felt. There was a comfort in knowing that everything would be predictable there. It would smell like Grammie or Nanny's house...there would be marshmallow cookies in the cupboard and the same scented soap in the bathroom. The box of toys would be right where I last left them in the bottom shelf of the linen closet. The playhouse would be calling for children to fill it with make believe.
When I see Ben and Jacob run into Gramma's house into the "snack cupboard" and find the comfort of their box of raisins, juice box and rice cracker (the standard...) I remember the sensations and rituals of my grandparents house. They run into the back hall and drag out their bin of toys...that Gramma lets them line the kitchen floor with. They find their favorite books, Daddy's old micro machines and push their luck for a second juice box.
Similarly when we arrive at Grammie and Grandad's house for Sunday Dinner, the same ritual begins. They wander the backyard, dig up the flower bed that has become theirs to build in and proceed to dump out all their toys from the basket. It just smells and feels like a grandparents house. I love that they are able to make these memories!

Elizabeth's First Week

If there were a baby catalog...I would have picked this baby, exactly to order. Blond hair, beautiful eyes, a button nose and cheeks that make me melt...did I mention she came sleeping 6 hours straight a night? Oh yes. She was made to order.
 This little girl has only been here for 5 short days and yet I can't seem to remember a time without her. She has fit in seamlessly into our family and most certainly our hearts. We are completely smitten with this little girl. We are so so blessed.