Blessed Are We!

....the story goes like this:

On Wednesday, the fourth of February, it was determined by the doctor that I would be induced to deliver our baby the following morning. I was instructed to call the hospital at 6am to inquire as to whether the hospital was ready for me to arrive. We woke EARLY. I called. They weren't ready. Could I please call again at 9am? Yes, I could. I have waited nearly 41 weeks for this baby, what is three more hours?

I called back at 9am. I was instructed to arrive at 11am. We arrived a bit late. The hospital has had additions since I last delivered a baby there in 2004. We parked in the main entrance area. Then took two elevators and several corridors to find the maternity floor. Jeff teased me that since we were late, I wouldn't get the "good room." Ah, well.

We were instructed to wait in the family waiting room while my room was prepared. A nurse arrived and the first words out of her mouth were: "Follow me, you've got the "good room." I did not know there was such a thing at this hospital! Wasn't that just on tv? All of three of the rooms I have stayed in at this hospital in the past were "good rooms." We arrived and indeed, it was a "good room." Here is the view from my window.

My lovely midwife who caught my daughter nearly five years ago got me set up. Pitocin was started. Labor began slowly. Contractions increased as the pitocin levels were gradually elevated. When the clock struck five, my midwife was off. The doctor - the new-to-this-practice doctor - the one I saw the day before, arrived. In the early evening, she broke my water and left me in the care of some very nice nurses. The contractions intensified to the point where I was asking for the doctor and an epidural. I have not used an epidural since my first two doctor deliveries.

Finally the doctor returned and she said "You're going to have a baby."
{REallY.. ya think?}
She said "You can have your baby right here on the bed."
No, thanks. That nice nurse did not place this birthing chair next to my bed in vain.
Gravity can be a very good thing, you know.
I hopped onto the chair and my doctor asked for some gloves - size six to be precise.
No one gave her any until she asked again.

One push was all that was necessary.

Our baby boy, who will be known as
Joel Anthony
on this little blog, arrived at 9:13 pm.
He let out a loud wail right away.
I smiled.
We visited for a bit. He learned to nurse in the first hour.
He was given a bath and weighed.
He was 20 inches long and weighed 7lbs 1oz.
That is teeny tiny. At least it is to me.
Our first son weighed 7lbs 8oz. Our last four children weighed 8.6, 8.8, 8.5 and 8.7.
One would think that I give birth to eight and a half pound babies.
Not this time.

Here is baby Joel meeting Daddy for the first time.
I wore three medals and a scapular during delivery. The gold rope is from the scapular was over my shoulder. The medals are a Miraculous Medal, The Eucharist in a monstrance and St. Therese of Lisieux. Baby Joel reached up for my medals.
Got 'em.
Here he is meeting Nana the next day. Joel, you are going to loooooove Nana! We call her "Disneyland." She will spoil you to pieces! Just ask your brothers and your sister. Joel met Memere et Pepere. They are Daddy's parents. Daddy turned out pretty good, I think. They're really good folks.
Joel took a lunch break. Maximilian gave him a little snuggle. He's a snuggler, that Maximilian.
Here's Joel's only sister. The only princess. She thinks Joel is so handsome!
Here's Pier-Jerome. He loves babies. Always has. He cannot believe he has one in his family. Lucky, lucky boy! Joel's lucky, too.
Timothy has prayed for Joel as soon as he knew he existed. Prayed and prayed. God heard you, Timothy. God heard, you.
It's been a five years since Julian had a new little sibling. He hasn't forgotten how to snuggle the littlest one. Here's Joel and I having a little chat.
Sweet, sweet baby.

Our swaddled little 'sausage roll' (say it like Lola - it'll sound cute, not wierd).


Back to the story.
After the visits ended on night two, we settled in for the night. or so I thought we had.
Joel wasn't nearly as content.
Sleep skipped my "good room" that evening.

Joel's feedings were good for one, then disinterested the next.
We went home looking forward to settling in. It didn't happen.
We were back at the doctor's office the following day.
Joel had blood tests. I had tears.
Turns out he had a tight frenulum which can fatigue baby's tongue, hence the success and failure of alternate feedings. This caused him to get dehydrated. Poor little pumpkin. He was readmitted and given hydration. Here is his little arm with the i.v.
It all worked out. The hydration was just what he needed.
He didn't even fuss about his i.v. going in or out.
I had fussed about my i.v. Going in. and Going out.
But then again, I tend to be a fusser.

His tight frenulum was treated. No tears then, either.

We were finally able to go home. I know I was ready!
Here's Daddy ready to take his baby home for good.
Baby Joel has been doing very well since we've been home.
He eats well.
He sleeps well.
He lets us know when things aren't quite right.
He is a rather content little person.
We are all completely smitten with our new sweet treasure!

This yesterthought was composed twelve days ago. It has sat idle as a draft for no other reason that I'm not really spending a whole lot of time online and I kind of.. ummm.. forgot that I never sent it off.
More yesterthoughts to come.

Thank you for visiting!