Introducing “Baby G.”-our sweet little Birdie Rose

As you may have surmised, I have been a little MIA for the last few weeks. The preparation for Baby G., my parent’s and in-law’s arrival, and just generally being pregnant left me with little energy at the end of each day. I desperately wanted to keep all of you informed, but hoped you’d bear with me as we adjusted and prepared for our new life.

All the work, planning, waiting, plotting and prayer was worth the wait. On April 27th, at 12:02am, our lives forever changed.

Introducing-Birdie Rose:

She has made me realize so many wonderful things about God’s promises already. During the entire labor and delivery, the scripture, “He will never leave us, nor forsake us (1 Kings 8:57)” played on repeat in my mind.

The birth of Birdie Rose created a time where Biceps and I had to passionately lean on the Lord.

After walking several miles in the morning, my contractions began mid-afternoon on Friday, April 25th. We wanted to remain at home until they were appropriately 3 minutes apart. Biceps tried everything to distract me from the pain-jokes, food, and weird 1am television were all part of his repertoire.

Mostly, I laid on the floor and moaned like a beached sea whale, freaking out the cats in the process.

Finally, Biceps and I loaded up, left the kitties a little worse for wear, and ran off to the hospital on Saturday morning around 3am. For the next day, I labored-literally-in vain.

Biceps and Mom were at the helm the entire time–rubbing my back, applying moist heat, encouraging me, praying over me and force-feeding me honey sticks.

By Saturday night (33 hours later), we knew something was amiss. My contractions were increasing in frequency, length and severity of pain–and I was getting tuckered out.

Little Baby G. did not want to come out-at least not the way we had planned. But, God had His hand on the entire situation.

We had a rockstar nurse-Bekah-who did everything short of taking the pain on herself. She sat up with us throughout the night and prayed with us. Because of Bekah, we discovered after all these hours of natural labor, our little determined girl was breeched. Birdie had flipped at the last minute, after being in the correct position for the entire 9 months.

A few hours later, we were confronted by our doctor with the necessity of an emergency C-Section. This was not how I had planned it and I lost it right there in the delivery room. We were supposed to have her, drink our OJ and be on our merry way. But, Birdie Rose wanted more of a show.

And again, God was there. Our rockstar nurse followed us to the operating room and stayed with me throughout the entire procedure. My doctor prayed with me and calmed me down. And, 30 minutes later–Birdie was “born”.

I have no idea why the birth happened the way that it did. But, because of the unusual circumstances met by supernatural answers–I knew my God was watching over me. There were many details-when my water broke, when the doctor was available, how much I had eaten–that seemed to miraculously be taken care of.

The birth of Birdie Rose deepened my love for the Lord, for my husband and for my family. I already cannot imagine my life without her.

She is our blessing–one we waited 13 years for. And it was totally worth it.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.” James 1:2-5

Twas little more than a fortnight until Baby G’s unveiling

This is a fancy way of saying “16 days until Baby G is supposed to come into this world.” Biceps and I are feeling a little more prepared, but I tend to freak out silently from time to time. I have a few questions that no one seems to be answering:

1. What if the baby comes early and I’m not ready?
–The typical answer: Oh, you’ll be ready, you say.
–My rebuttal: Oh yeah? You don’t know my emotional ramping-up needs. It took me two years to be emotionally ready for marriage after a terrible break-up with the “wrong guy”. TWO YEARS. I could have acquired a Master’s Degree in that time.

2. What if I toot around my kid, then realize I shouldn’t have, then apologized, then he/she tells on me in some ridiculously public place and uses this ammunition as their own leverage to toot willy-nilly?
–The typical answer: That’s the least of your worries, you say.
–My rebuttal: Is it? I have a non-tooting reputation to uphold. Be quiet any of you out there that know otherwise.

3. What if not getting enough sleep, along with my hormones going wacko, along with a dirty house, piles of laundry and a messy kitchen causes me to just walk out of the house one day and never come back? What if I’m not quite the superhero woman I think I am?
–The typical answer: You’ll adjust, you say. You’re going to get used to your house being messier, the dishes not being done and you’ll eventually get sleep.
–My rebuttal:You apparently don’t know my obsessive-compulsiveness or my extreme need for a clean house.

4. What if I totally screw up my kid and they turn into some sort of Hannibal Lecter or a serial killer or, even worse-don’t like cats?
–The typical answer: You’re going to screw up for sure, you say. But you won’t screw up this badly.
–My rebuttal: I once put my baby brother underneath a clothes hamper, sat on top of it and didn’t move until I was threatened by my mother. Who does that? And, I’m sure Hitler’s mother didn’t think she would screw up Adolf. Look what happened there.

5. What if my kid follows my pattern of a self-absorbed childhood thinking I looked awesome in this dress, my risky teenage years of driving too fast and dating too old of guys, ill-planned college years where I barely made A’s and broke a boy’s heart out of complete selfishness and finally a few adult years of somewhat gained but lackluster maturity where I see few peaks but mostly valleys of incompetence?
–The typical answer: Your kid is going to be awesome. Besides, you’ve got Bicep’s influence and he’s awesome.
–My rebuttal: I’ll give you that. Biceps is awesome.

How could a kid not grow up to be awesome with this guy as his dad?
–The typical answer: It’s impossible.
–My rebuttal: I have none.

What were your biggest worries or fears before becoming a parent?

Yes, I’d love to hear your horrible birth story…and other things.

This bump in my front has received unsolicited advice, thoughts, stories, warnings and the-world-is-ending-for-you notifications. I’ve had the Quick Trip lady tell me that I’m too small to be 34 weeks along and that possibly I’m wrong on my due date-or something is wrong with the baby.

I’ve received advice from a well-meaning Sprouts employee that I should eat unpasteurized cheese because it will help my child build up immunities (that’s a big: “thank you but no”, by the way).

I’ve been told that I’m crazy for not wanting the drugs given to most mothers during birth and that of course, I’ll change my mind.

And that I’m weird for wanting to cloth diaper and that this desire won’t last long. That I’ll realize I’m missing out on life for me and baby without Baby Einstein’s “must-have walker”. And, that if I make my own baby food, my baby probably won’t be receiving enough nutrition.

All of these things are tolerable. However, the one thing I cannot get out of my mind are the horrible birth stories I’ve been told-mostly from complete strangers. Their water broke at the state fair while at the top of a ferris wheel, they bled out and almost died, oh-also the baby almost died, the doctor didn’t know what he was doing, the cord was wrapped around the neck, and they labored for 3 days straight.

My question is why do tell a perfectly happy pregnant woman all of the terrible things that could go wrong? Is to help her increase her faith (I would have to say no) or to show off the invisible badge earned through an extremely painful and traumatic ordeal?

It’s like telling a virgin the night before she weds that she’ll just have to “get through it”. Which is helpful. Which happened.

I may appear tough to you (or not). However, I’m a fragile little egg right now. It’s not that I don’t value what other mother’s have been through. But, let me get through it first. Then, we can swap stories all day long. I’d love to hear about the bloody placenta that fell from the doctor’s hands, the hemorrhoids and the elusive sleep that never came for the new mother.

Seriously. I’ll brew the coffee.

Of Midwives, Doctors, Babies and Such

I’m trying not to make this blog about me and baby. There are plenty of those out there and women have been birthing since the dawn of creation. The fact that I’m pregnant is new to me, but run of the mill for everyone else. But, from time to time, I may drop a baby nugget or two. (Is that gross to say?)

Here we are sliding past week 15 and I’m finally starting to feel the pinch if I button up my jeans each day. The key word being “if” I choose jeans instead of opting for my cozy “house pants”.

At any rate, the baby is the size of a large orange and is already taking my breath away during Crossfit, climbing stairs or scaling fences to retrieve my naughty cat.

The baby is also causing me to rethink my 32 oz blender bottle full of water before bed (I peed 6 times last night), the necessity of makeup or matching my clothes.

And being pregnant has spurred me to read, research and question things I truly never cared about before. How do I want to give birth? On all fours? At home? In a tub? In a hospital bed? Knocked out, blindfolded and with ear plugs?

I like the idea of a midwife-but I like the idea of a capable doctor, too. Advances in modern medicine have saved countless lives-I won’t deny that. However, I don’t buy all of “modern medicine” hook, line and sinker.

After all, a lobotomy was considered a helpful procedure on mentally ill patients less than 50 years ago.

That looks fun.

If you are a mommy or daddy, I would love to hear your experience-if you’d like to share. Tell me what went right, what went wrong, and what would you wish you knew then that you know now?

PS-Just try not to scare the crap out of me. Thank you and goodnight. But, first I have to pee.