Asher's Arrival - all the gory details

I can’t believe it has already been 6 weeks since my new little man came into the world.  Of course, he interrupted my world a little longer ago.  I felt him kick me many weeks ago.  I started planning for him months ago.  I started dreaming of him years ago.

 I am already getting a little fuzzy on the details of those wonderfully exhausting days, so I figured I should write it down before my sleep-deprived brain forgets it altogether.

But first… warning!  THIS POST MAY CONTAIN OVERSHARING AND TALK OF BODILY FLUIDS. 

I breezed through my long – awaited pregnancy with relative ease, save for a kidney stone or two, up until the last month when my blood pressure skyrocketed and my body swelled up like a blimp.  After two trips to the hospital for monitoring, I made it to my last doctor’s appointment at 39 weeks 6 days.  I was feeling good as I waddled my blimpy self into the office and sat on the exam table, but after the nurse took my very high blood pressure, my doctor (who I LOVE if I haven’t already said so) came in and said, “Well, let me check you so I know where we’re starting from once I send you to the hospital in a few minutes.” 

You think I would have been more prepared since I was one day from 40 weeks, but even still, I had a small breakdown in the office.  I didn’t want to be induced.  I wanted Button to come when he was ready, but with my blood pressure issues and the fact that he was estimated to be nearly nine pounds already, it seemed that we needed to get the show on the road to get him here safely.  At the end of my appointment, my doctor instructed me to go directly to the hospital and have Jay go get my bags later – do not go home, do not go to lunch, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.

Being the obedient girl I am, I went directly home.  To be fair, I live a whopping two minutes from the hospital, and only gave myself 15 minutes to get the rest of my stuff together before heading to labor and delivery.  

This was early Wednesday afternoon.  The plan was to start a medicine that would “ripen” me for delivery, then start Pitocin some time Thursday morning, so we didn’t expect to see any real action until Thursday night at least.

Oh, a little side story that is just so me – a couple of hours after I arrived at the hospital, the nurse requested a urine sample to check again for preeclampsia.  Actually, they requested the sample as soon as I got there, but since I was coming directly (kind of) from the doctor’s office where I had just given one such sample, I was not properly equipped to provide it just yet, so it took an hour or so and one of those giant hospital mugs of ice water to prepare.

Anyway, when I was finally ready, I went into the restroom to commence the glamorous peeing in a cup, when I, not realizing it, got my blood pressure cuff caught on the pull-in-case-of-emergency cord.  As I was lifting the cup to set it in its holding place, a nurse burst into the room to make sure I was okay.  I responded by screaming and throwing the contents of the cup in her general direction.

Yep, the Spaldings have arrived!

looking marvelous

The first night in the hospital was pretty boring.  Contractions had started by the time they hooked me up to the monitors, but they were light and irregular.  I passed the time by watching one of the ten seasons of Friends that Jay had thought to stash in my bag.   I was put on clear liquids as soon as I got there (didn’t get to eat again until late Friday night) so I sipped on chicken broth and enjoyed a popsicle here and there.  The one thing I didn’t do was sleep.  Though every nurse who came in through the night told me I needed to sleep, I just couldn’t do it (Jay had no such problem, even on the most uncomfortable looking pull-out chair you’ve ever seen.  Most of the nurses would giggle at his snoring when they came in to check my vitals).  I did my best to doze off and on and had decided that I would get up about 5 a.m. and get a shower before all the excitement of the day started.  At 4:55 a.m., I woke up startled and discovered that it felt like my bed was wet.  I woke Jay up, thinking maybe I had waited too long between bathroom breaks.  Jay helped me up (I had an IV and was hooked up to monitors, so he was great to wake up and unhook and rehook me every time I needed him), and as I attempted to walk to the bathroom, it became increasingly clear that my water had broken (I had been a little worried that it might happen in my car or on my new carpet, but everyone told me not to worry, that it doesn’t gush out like it does in the movies.  They were wrong!). 

The nurse came in to confirm my water had broken and started me on the Pitocin to strengthen and regulate my contractions.  Because my water broke, I didn’t get to take a shower, nor did I get to employ any of the coping techniques I’d so dutifully learned in my birthing class because with every contraction, the water kept coming. No walking the halls, no birthing ball, no holding onto your partner and swaying back in forth.  As the day dragged on, I progressed very slowly, even as the contractions got stronger and close together.  At about 5:30 p.m., I had an epidural, which succeeded in numbing the right side of my body really well and the left side not at all.  The night was difficult (no sleep again), but finally, at about 7 a.m. on Friday morning, my doctor came in to check me.  I was sure she was going to say we were almost there, but instead, delivered the news that I was only 3 ½ centimeters.  Since it had been 27 hours since my water had broken, she decided that a C-section was our best course of action.

Go time! Get the baby out of that poor, puffy woman!

After another small breakdown on my part, the nurses quickly began prepping me for surgery.  I was feeling very sick and everything happening around me was a blur.  I remember the nurse putting warm socks on my feet and compression machines on my legs, I remember everyone talking about the blanket of snow that had fallen overnight, I remember that they couldn’t find shoe covers big enough to cover Jay’s shoes in the operating room, I remember my best friend, Wesley the anesthesiologist, coming in to give me more medicine so that I would be completely numb (it mostly worked).   In no time, they were wheeling me to the operating room.

Jay had to stay behind while they got all set up, strapped my arms and legs down, and hung the cover to hide whatever it was they were going to be doing to me.  I was pretty panicky as the doctors worked all around me, but when I turned my head to the left and saw Jay settling in beside me, I felt a bit of calm wash over me.  I don’t know how long it took to get the baby out.  It could have been 30 seconds or 30 minutes.  I kept my eyes closed and just tried to concentrate on breathing in and out and telling myself that I wasn’t really feeling anything – that it was my imagination.  I felt very hot – there was something blowing warm air at my face.  At some point I noticed I had an oxygen mask on.  

Suddenly, in all the chaos, there was a stillness, and I heard it.  He cried.  All the trying, all the failures, all the hoping, all the worrying, all the years, all the waiting… it was done.  He was here.  Born at 9:13 a.m. on December 6^th , weighing 8 lbs, 9 oz.

finally here

pay no attention to the guts in this picture

big boy!

I only got to glance at him for a moment before the nurses whisked him and Jay away as I was put back together.  It was well over an hour before I would see them again.

As I was finally wheeled to the recovery room, I heard the voices of my Micah and my in-laws and knew they were waiting for me, and waiting to meet the new member of our family.

It seemed to take forever for Jay and Asher to come and meet me.  The snow had slowed down everything at the hospital so it was taking longer to discharge patients and the hospital was short-staffed.  I was very anxious to see Asher, to hold him, to nurse him.  Finally I heard my husband’s voice down the hall, and I sat up and prepared for the magical moment that I had been waiting for.  Suddenly, nothing else seemed to matter much – the pain from the surgery, the disappointment that nothing really went the way I’d hoped.  All that mattered was on its way to me.  Micah was already standing beside me as they entered the room and my eyes filled with tears.  I was so in love with our little family.  I couldn’t wait to have this new little man in my arms.  Jay carefully and lovingly handed me our baby, and I looked down on him with all the love in the world.  Then quickly handed him back to his dad and threw up everywhere.

Welcome to our world, Asher David!

an amazing letter...

In the month of December, we received a ton of mail.  Ads and junk, doctor bills, Christmas cards, well-wishes and congratulations for the new baby… but one piece of mail sticks out among the rest.  Shortly after Asher’s birthday, we received a letter we won’t soon forget… it was from Asher.

Now, let me preface this by saying that I’m not crazy -  I don’t actually believe that Asher wrote us a letter (or do I?  He is my child, and thus, likely a genius), but if you had something to do with it, please don’t ever tell me.  I love the mystery of this special note.

This is what the letter said –

Dear Mommy, Daddy and Micah,

Hi!  My name is Asher.  I like it!! I know you know my name, but I wanted you to know the name you chose for me is great.  You’ve said that I’ve been sent to you by God.  You’re right!  He needed someone to take care of me so he sent me to you.  He also wanted me to tell you a few things. I know it may seem a little strange coming from someone just a few days old, but this is what God told me to tell you.

Mommy, you have “found favor with God.”  Now what that means, I’m not sure.  I think it may mean that you have been given a gift so precious that He could entrust it to no one else but you.  I was told that you would love me more than anyone else could.  I know you have to do all the routine things like changing my messy diapers, feeding me and keep me clean, but God said the most important thing you will ever do is to love me. I guess that is more important to God than changing my messy diapers.  But be assured, I will cry to let you know if I’m messy or hungry.  Just saying!

Daddy, I was told you are funny and know a lot of silly jokes.  God said you would make me laugh and be happy.  Though I’m not sure what a joke is yet, I’m sure you’ll teach me.  God also said a part of your “regular” job is to help a lot of people to understand that they need to know Him.  He said you would teach me about… “the Way, the Truth, and the Life…” I’m anxious to know what all that means.  He also said something about Kentucky.  I wasn’t sure if He was talking about a place or a state of mind.  I guess you’ll let me know.

Micah, I am so happy to have a big brother!!  God said one day you will be my best friend and will make sure no one picks on me.  He also said sometimes you may not understand all the fuss everyone makes over me.  Well, the reason is that I’m not as big as you and I need other people to take care of me.  You sure are lucky you are old enough to do things I can’t do yet.  You will always be ahead of me.  Make sure you lead me in the right direction.  I’ll need your help to learn things that parents don’t know.  One thing for sure – I’ll always have a big brother to take care of me.

Well, that’s all I remember that I was to tell you.  Oh yeah, I almost forgot!  God talks a lot about love.  You know how He is.  Guess what!  I know what love is!!  God said love is… Mommy, Daddy and Micah!  I love you too.

Your son and baby brother,

Asher

Prelude to a Post (Hopefully)

When I first received the miraculous news several months ago that I was “with child,” I really thought we’d survive this pregnancy together, blog style, and quite honestly, I’ve started or at least made notes for about a dozen posts, but I have yet to put the finishing touches on any of them… mostly because life has just been extremely busy, and any sedentary moments as of late have resulted in my immediately falling asleep. That, and the fact that pregnancy brain has effectively clogged the ducts of my creative juices.

 I have now been told by my doc that thanks to some pretty crazy blood pressure spikes, I need to take it as easy as possible and keep my feet up as much as I can until our little Button makes his appearance – hopefully within the next two weeks. So I thought that I might go back and try to see if I can salvage any of my random thoughts these last few months.

Now that I’m a whiny, swollen, uncomfortable, 9 months pregnant, wretched woman, it might do me some good to revisit some of the earlier moments of this blessing!

While Waiting on Baby #2, I'd Better Remember Who's #1!

This last month, my pitiful little man has had to have some pretty extensive dental work done.  Due to a very underdeveloped mouth, he has had to have (so far!), 3 baby root canals, 3 caps, 3 jaw teeth pulled, 1 front tooth pulled, and wire spacers put in.  He has one more intense visit (and one more payment!), next week, and then a couple of follow-ups before he is all done. 

Poor baby

 

All of this work has resulted in what we call “Mom Mondays.”  After his appointments (which are, obviously, scheduled on Mondays), he and I curl up on the couch with a drool cup while we wait for the swelling to go down and the laughing gas to wear off.  Usually we watch TV and snuggle…. And we talk a lot.  Of course, he talks without opening and closing his mouth and without swallowing anything that has gathered there, so I have to be a bit of a detective to figure out what he’s saying!

I have to treasure these moments, because I know that after a few hours, he will be back to normal, rough and tumble and loud and crazy.  And way too busy to talk to me.

When Micah and I have our talks lately, we chat about school starting in a couple of weeks (he is so not excited), the trips we are going to take the rest of this year, and of course, talk often turns to baby.

 

Now, if I haven’t been clear enough on this subject, let me just reiterate that Prince Micah was perfectly comfortable in his position as the only child in Spalding Manor, and the thought of this new little creature is really cramping his style.  Micah has never been a big fan of babies in general, much less one that is poised to stink up his house and steal chunks of Mom and Dad’s attention.

So every so often, Micah will pipe up with quips like this:

“You know, you can’t sing any of the songs you sang to me to the baby.  Those songs are mine.  You’ll have to think of new ones.”’

“The baby can’t get anything more expensive than me, because I’m older.”

“I don’t think Santa should even bring the baby anything for Christmas because he won’t even be able to open anything.  He’ll just stare at it… and probably drool on it.”

I’m really hoping he warms up to the idea of having a baby brother, but I kind of understand where he’s coming from.  Jay and I had eight years of marriage before Micah came along, and though we prayed and longed for him, he pretty much turned our pretty little marriage on its head!  I imagine that’s how it will be for him.  Eight years as the only child, and then BAM! - enter this Martian baby who will turn everything upside down!  Still, I hope and pray that there will be some moment when he will look down at his baby brother and feel some love – or at least tolerance – for him.

In the meantime, we are doing all we can to ensure him that he is loved and treasured, no matter what.  Very early in the pregnancy, when we had explained to Micah that the doctor had fixed Mom’s broken belly and a baby was a possibility, Micah said, “You just can’t love the baby more than me.”

 

 

I replied, “Micah, I waited for you my whole life, I could never love anyone the same way I love you.”

He thought for a minute and said, “Well, if I promise to never tell the baby, can you love me just a little bit more?”

I thought for a minute.  I could say, “Micah, I will love you both the same amount.  You’re both my children.  I won’t have any favorites.”

But I didn’t.

I smiled and said, “Absolutely.  But you can never, ever tell the baby, or I’ll deny the whole thing!”