Little Angel

One of my new friends is a professional newborn photographer.  She requested the opportunity to have a Maren photo session.  We went to her in-home studio earlier this week; a magical room filled from floor to ceiling with baby hats, bows, wraps, blankets, and props.  Five hours later we finished.  She is passionate about her work...and oh so patient.  She sent me a sneak peek of some of her favorites.  The full photo-shopped CD will come in a few weeks.

Here is my little Maren looking perfectly angelic:

Dethroned

Dethroned: to remove from the throne; depose; to remove from a prominent or powerful position.

As much as I would like to report that big brother is happy in his new status, he is not.  I was hoping for a gentle older sibling to greet a sweet new baby sister with kisses and pats and smiles.  My little Prince Ezra has instead become slightly tyrannical.  Maren is either ignored, scowled at, or swatted at.  If baby is within reach when Ezra is feeling frustrated, she becomes the object to vent his frustration.  Maren is only safe in her crib with the door shut because--as of this moment in time--Ezra cannot turn doorknobs or climb into cribs.

On Tuesday we took our first family outing and found the new public libraries in the area.  I had a children's librarian help me find any book describing the big brother-little sister adjustment.  Ezra has taken to two of them.  Daddy and I read them four times over in one sitting.  But, so far, the positive message has not been internalized in his outward physical actions.  We are hopeful.  I pray all the time that Ezra and Maren will be friends.  Ezra may be processing for awhile.

Interestingly enough, Bear has some kindly inclinations toward Maren.  During his good times, Ezra will come to me with Bear and say, "Bear kiss baby head."  And then Bear will softly touch Maren's head as Ezra makes a kissing noise.  (I am curious what a child psychologist thinks of that behavior!)

So far, Ezra has refused to be in pictures with Maren.  I was able to get a decent picture of Ezra, but only because I agreed to take a picture of Bear too.  What would we do without Bear?  He and Ezra have such a strange love-hate relationship, but for right now Bear is part of the glue that is holding Ezra's fragile psyche together.

 

  

Maren Marie: A Birth Story

My hope for baby # 2 was to have a successful VBAC and to allow my body to naturally go into labor.  I made a switch sometime in late May from a OBGYN practice strongly pushing for a repeat cesarean birth to a midwifery group at a hospital famous for successful VBAC's and a more natural approach to childbirth.  They allowed me to go to the full 42 weeks, as needed, before discussing induction options.  I was nervous on the outset to make a switch part way into a pregnancy, but it turned out to be an excellent decision.

Wednesday August 14 at about 10 am I started having contractions.  Dallin was already at work.  I went about my normal morning activities, working through some early contractions.  The contractions were coming about every 12-15 minutes, and even at that early stage, felt quite strong.  Ezra was busy as a bee all around me.  Around 11:30 am I called Dallin to give him an update, and told him that I might need his help to drive Ezra to his 3:00 pm pediatric dentist appointment.  In between contractions, I packed my hospital bag.  Ezra and I had lunch at noon.  All the while my contractions were picking up in intensity and speed.  Eating lunch was difficult, and with every contraction I had to stop what I was doing to breathe through it.  At 1:15 or so I asked Dallin to come home.  Contractions were 4-5 minutes apart and very intense.  I called Roslyn and asked her to come up to the house to watch Ezra.  I also called our doula and advised her of my progress.  I was so afraid that it wasn't really real labor; I was so worried that I would inconvenience three people that I almost didn't make the calls.  At this point Ezra was just a blur in the background entertaining himself.

Dallin got home around 2 pm and Roslyn arrived shortly thereafter.  We left the house around 2:20 pm and arrived at the hospital around 3 pm.  We drove up to the drop-off zone in front of the hospital.  I made it twenty feet to the entrance doors and had a contraction in the doorway.  The security guards at the front desk saw me and brought a wheelchair.  They wheeled me to the OB Screening room on the first floor where an older nurse greeted me.  "Why are you here?" she asked.  Under different circumstances, her question would have been comical.  (For goodness sake, why do you think?!)  Instead, in the midst of a contraction I eeked out, "I think I am in labor."  Older (grumpy) nurse didn't seem convinced.  She passed me off to the attendant behind the desk, who would help me when she got off the phone. 

Shortly thereafter, I was wheeled to an observation room.  The nurse checked my cervix and reported that I was a healthy 4 cm dilated.  I was rather surprised/disappointed that I was only that far along considering the intensity of the contractions.  I remember thinking that I would definitely be needing an epidural if I felt this kind of pain and was only at 4 cm dilated.  Our doula, Josie, arrived 5 minutes later.  The three of us worked through my contractions together while I was monitored.  About half an hour later, Josie suggested I might be more comfortable in a different position.  She thought it might be easier to stand and lean over the exam table so that someone could apply counter-pressure to my back.  I agreed to try.

At about 3:45 or so I changed positions, and felt an immediate change in intensity and pressure.  Gravity was at work!  I could hardly breath without gasping in pain.  And during that first contraction in the standing position, I felt the urge to push.  Thankfully, Josie had enough experience to recognize the shift and scurried out the door to find a nurse.  Older (grumpy) nurse was notified; she was again rather unconvinced of the urgency of the situation.  A few minutes later, a different nurse came in rather casually and suggested that my cervix be checked again.  With every contraction I wanted to push, and the nurses finally recognized that baby was coming.  A stretcher was wheeled in, and somehow, I made it
onto the bed.

We rode the elevator up one floor (pushing urges continuing) and into a labor and delivery room.  Due to some sort of scheduling quirk and an otherwise quiet afternoon, I had five attending midwives and a few nurses!  As soon as the stretcher was aligned with the delivery bed, I suddenly felt something pop out of me.  There was a small moment of panic--no, not the baby, just my bag of water.  The water bag was punctured and I moved to the adjoining bed.  (Things had happened so fast that I was actually still in my own clothes at this point).

The contractions had started to fade, and now instead, the overwhelming desire to push.  It was probably about 4 pm.  My troupe of midwives were oohing and awing over baby's quantity of hair as her head started to crown.  This was highly motivating!  After the work of contractions, the pushing was actually somewhat of a relief because I had some control over how and when I pushed.  Baby was born at 4:18 pm.  I was able to hold her on my chest immediately, umbilical cord still attached, until the cord blood stopped pumping.  It was amazing!  Within a half hour of birth she was nursing.

The entire experience was full of the unexpected.  I was surprised that my body actually went into labor on its own.  I was unprepared for how quickly it all happened; something akin to a runaway train ride.  I did not anticipate that the entire birth experience would be completed in six hours.  I had quietly hoped to have a natural birth, but never dreamed it would have to be that way because of the speed of the process.  Despite all the unexpected elements, it was truly a beautiful, positive, fulfilling experience.      

This Season

Yes, I am still here.

The last month has been an interesting season of life, and I must acknowledge the many, many helpers in the process.  My mom is at the top of the thank you list.  She was grunt laborer, chief engineer, home improvement extraordinaire, and Energizer Bunny all in one.  We could not be where we are without her help.  My sister Emily was amazing too; she has some serious girl power, and has more tenacity and work ethic than most teenagers I know.  My dad, my brother Aaron, and my in-laws have also stepped in with much needed support and assistance in our transition.  

In the last month or so we closed on our first house, gutted much of the main floor and upstairs and dealt with two weeks of contractor improvements.  Amid all the dust, grime, smells, and clutter, we slowly restored the house to move-in ready, and packed and loaded our rented moving truck.  We moved in, and slowly unpacked and organized an entire house worth of stuff.  After at least twenty trips to Lowe's/Home Depot, a lot of elbow grease, and too many late nights, we finally started to feel at home in our new place. 

After a few quiet days of bliss in our new home, all three of us came down with a nasty viral infection (did I mention I am still pregnant at this point?)  I pulled out every home remedy/safe-for-pregnancy concoction I could come up with, and after five days of misery, started to feel better.  The very next day, I went into labor.  Isn't Heavenly Father's timing amazing?  I never wanted to be twelve days overdue, but those extra days meant a house in good order, and a body strong enough to fight a nasty infection, not to mention energy enough to bring a baby into the world. 

We are home now (what an amazing thing that is!) and transitioning again.  Ezra is processing, still fighting a lingering, aggressive cough and ear infection, and trying to understand the implications of new baby.  Dallin has had a resurgence of his infection and feels worse instead of better.  He has been super-dad and Ezra entertainment since we left the hospital.  I am blurry-eyed, sleep deprived, and awestruck.  Our family feels more complete with Maren's arrival; somehow she fills an empty spot that I didn't realize existed.  Her needs are simple to fulfill, and despite being exhausted, it gives me joy to be in this newborn phase again, and bond with her little spirit.

And so, we carry on, one day at a time in this new season.