The Birth of Charlie Part 1
Well my sweet boy, here we are just days before your first birthday and I’m finally sitting down to write your birth story. I must have started at least 10 times, but the perfect words haven’t come. Mainly because the gift of carrying you, giving birth to you, and this first year of your life have all been so special and meant so much to me, especially since your life came to us so closely after losing Lemon. You are such a blessing and I want you to feel that as you read your story because I feel it every day that I look at you. And honestly between you and your siblings, and I mean this in the most thankful way, I haven’t found a block of continuous, uninterrupted thought that wasn’t far before the sun came up or hours after it set to convey these feelings adequately on paper. But it’s time. Interrupted thoughts or not, regardless of the hour, these words need to be written. So here they are.
When I was pregnant with Evelyn it never crossed my mind that I could lose her. I took one pregnancy test, I was pregnant, I would carry her to term and that was that. I had zero doubts and everything went perfectly. Then when we wanted to add another baby to our family I was more aware of all the things that could go wrong, but I figured everything would be fine since Evelyn came to us effortlessly. Those thoughts were quickly crushed as we lost one baby, and then another, before Heath joined us. Then before you, I naively? hopefully? prayerfully? thought surely I had had my share of loss and things would go smoothly as we set to bring a third baby earth side. In early May I got multiple positive tests, worried until my first appointment, then I heard Lemon’s heartbeat and took a breath. And again naively, hopefully, prayerfully I thought we were in the clear. When we lost Lemon late in June it was really hard on me. The d&c process made it harder, and working on labor and delivery made it feel like torture. I needed a break. A break from the buildup and the heartache of Iife lost from my arms. So we put things on pause and decide to enjoy the upcoming wedding and holiday season.
Well, the surest way to make God laugh is to make plans!
We found out we were pregnant with you two months after losing Lemon. I took a test on a feeling, but it was negative so I went out to an event at a brewery that night. I barely drank and ended up leaving early because even though I know you’re not supposed to, I felt God nudging me to go home and recheck the test. Sure enough there was the faintest line. I look back at that test and you can hardly even see the line in the pictures, but it was there. You were there.
It just goes to show that before I even knew you were a sure thing, I felt you coursing through me. I’ve felt so bonded to you in that way; wholeness, oneness, completion—those are the words that come to mind surrounding your life. And ironically I also feel like those feelings are one of the reasons that made it harder for me to fully give your life and my worry over to God during your pregnancy. I wanted you so badly and felt so instantly deeply connected to you, and in the same breath I had full understanding of what a whisp in time life can be, so I found myself actively trying to pull away and disconnect.
It honestly makes me sad looking back at how little I documented during your pregnancy and even your first year of life. Surely, part of that is due to lack of time, but also because when I write I pour myself and all my feelings into words, those words come to life, and things feel more real to me. So to write about all the joy I was feeling, all the hope I was feeling, all the wholeness I was feeling, and all the milestones we were reaching, often felt overwhelmingly hard. Overwhelming because losing Lemon was still so fresh I couldn’t stand the thought of the grief I would feel if I spilled out my joy and then lost it. Lost you.
And let me say, worry and fear don’t run my life, I have full confidence in God—I pray, He takes away my worry, and I have joy—and I found immense amounts of joy carrying you, but to obtain that joy I found myself saying more prayers to shed that underlying anxiousness and to fully embrace the joy of your life regardless of the length.
I remember often finding myself thinking that if I could just hurry up and have you in my arms that you would be mine to keep and that I could protect you from all the things. In my heart though, I knew that whether or not I held your pink, warm body, snuggled next to mine, that you were already forever mine, that God is your ultimate protector, not me, and that your life had always been, and will always be, safe in His hands.
It wasn’t until a day in late March when I was around 36 weeks and started regularly contracting, putting plans on hold, and truly thinking you’d come early, that I was finally able to give it all over to God and fully accept that whatever would be, would be. I feel like God used that day to shake me awake to trusting Him completely with the life He had gifted us with and to show me that I didn’t want all of my memories of your pregnancy to be tainted with the feelings of underlying anxiety. So I slowed down and found that total peace I had been longing for.
And those final weeks were mostly just that, peaceful. I was thrown the sweetest little sprinkle in anticipation of your arrival, went on lots of walks, nested like crazy, and fully trusted in God’s plan for your life. We did have a couple hiccups; at your 37 week appointment your heart rate dipped down so we did some extra monitoring—you were fine thankfully. That same week I got a stomach bug that landed me in the hospital for fluids and monitoring because you weren’t moving as much, I was contracting, hadn’t kept anything down in over 36 hours, and it was a weekend so I couldn’t just go to the office. Then the following week during my four night stretch of work at the hospital I had some contractions, but luckily I was just able to sleep those off the following day. I guess those things don’t sound like they would make for a very peaceful last month as I type them out haha, but I had so much overwhelming peace and I was so very comfortable that I felt like I would carry you into May, and I was okay with that.
You were due on a Wednesday so the Friday before your dad and I went on what we thought would be our final date night. Turns out you were comfy enough that we’d get another date night a whole week later before you made your arrival. Here I’d like to point out that you and your siblings always make me wait past your guess date, which is fine because it gives me more time alone time with you each, but just so you know, here are all the things I thought might bring you here that you decided to wait through—a snow storm in April, a week of 80 degree weather followed by one random day in the 50’s, a week of rain, two thunderstorms, my stomach bug, and all of Matthews delivering—truly every room was taken, even in triage. I’ve only seen that once in 5 years, that was it. Leading up to your arrival I thought it might be cool for you to be born on Easter, it was 3 days before your due date; then I thought it would be cool for you to be born on the 26th because it would make your birthday the same number of days from my birthday as my birthday is from moms; then I thought it would be cool for you to be born on a Tuesday because Heath and Evelyn were also; and finally I thought it would be nice for you to be born in May so you’d have your own birth month, but alas, you had plans of your own. And I’m so glad you picked your perfect birth day!
On the 24th, your due date, I had an appointment that morning and my belly was measuring at 37 weeks. I wasn’t concerned and neither was my midwife because my belly never measured past 37 weeks with Heath or Evelyn either. We scheduled a growth ultrasound and BPP for week 41 if I made it that far. All of the midwives at the practice I go to are wonderful, but I had seen Tina the entire time so I was really hopeful she would get to deliver you. She was on call all weekend so I was saying prayers and crossing my fingers.
I left that appointment and went home to finish painting the bathroom cabinets in our master bedroom that I had started two days before, because that’s obviously the only logical thing to do at 40 weeks pregnant.
The following day I took your siblings to the strawberry patch with some friends. I felt off that day, something I can’t really describe, but just different. Looking back I think my body and mind could sense things were going to start happening and were prepping me for laborland. I remember feeling so funny that I almost sat down in the middle of the field while your siblings talked to the pigs and chickens at the farm, but I didn’t want to scare anyone since I was so very pregnant. We left around lunch time and when I got in the car I called your dad and told him I thought things could maybe be happening. He came home around 3 that day and I rested and woke up feeling a bit better. That night we went on a long family walk and I curb walked the mile and a quarter in an effort to hopefully get things going. After the walk I felt relaxed, I think we just put the kids to bed and watched a show.
I woke up the next morning, Friday the 26th, feeling so at ease and full of energy I figured that since I finished the cabinets and you still weren’t here that I should go ahead and paint the bathroom floors. Oh and not just ours, but your siblings bathroom floors too. Logically. I figured I could get them done because we already had plans for your siblings to spend the night and following day at Nana and Papa’s so that we could go on one more, hopefully last, date night. I have a vivid memory of sitting on our bathroom floor painting in the late afternoon. We have a big tree right outside our window and the sun peaks through it just perfectly at that time of day making the shadow of the leaves dance around the room when the wind blows. It’s beautiful, and as the leaves danced around the room I felt my first real contraction. It wasn’t anything crazy, I could just tell that wave was productive. Our dinner plans were with our best friends, Ashton and Kurt, and after that contraction I remember telling your dad that I had a fleeting desire to stay home & finish the floors because I knew labor was coming and that night would be my only shot at getting the floors done before you came. Obviously I love our friends way more than floors, so we kept our dinner date.
I started getting ready for dinner and I have another vivid memory of me sitting on the floor, blow drying my hair in front of the big mirror in our room and I felt another good strong contraction. It had been an hour or so since the last one so I wasn’t bothered and really didn’t think anything of it. But I remember looking at myself in the mirror, sitting cross legged with my hair draped down over my chest, with my belly sitting perfectly round in my lap, watching the muscles in my belly tighten and release, and feeling so serene. I felt you kick and I placed my hand on my belly and just talked to you and told you how excited I was to meet you, how I was ready when you were, and how good you were going to do. How good we were going to do. It was one of my favorite moments.
We dropped the big kids off at your grandparents and I asked if they could snap a quick picture of me and your dad. As we stood there I remember Nana saying that it would just be great if I could go ahead and give birth sometime in the next 24 hours, we laughed and I agreed. And in that moment I knew we probably would be meeting you within the day, but I hadn’t shared that with anyone yet, not even your dad. In labor I like to retreat inward and be alone. I don’t like a lot of fuss and attention or eyes to be on me, so I kept your impending arrival to myself a little while longer.
We went to dinner and it was just the best, way better than painting floors. We talked and laughed for three hours. Ashton was pregnant with Reese too so I’ve got a silly picture of your dad and Kurt drinking margaritas both holding their bellies as if they were pregnant. And then the last picture I have before you came is from 9:44pm that night of Ashton and I holding our bellies. It’s one of my most favorite pictures and one I’m so glad we took because in that moment after two years of miscarriages and rainbow babies together, I knew that would probably be the last time we’d both have babies in our bellies at the same time. That picture and then being there for Reese’s arrival 10 weeks later were full circle moments, and such a sweet part of your pregnancy for me.
I had been contracting through dinner, about every 20-30 minutes if I had to guess. I wasn’t timing them and I talked through them all, not mentioning that I was even having them. On the way home they picked up, so I finally told Steve I was having them and that I thought we’d have a baby by this time tomorrow. We were so giddy and excited to find out who you were! We got home and I debated going back upstairs to paint the floors because I still wasn’t bothered by the contractions, but your dad wanted us to watch a comedy show on Netflix, and encouraged me to just rest, so I did. In your dad’s typically fashion he fell asleep in the first 10 minutes and the show was not great. I sat there listening to snores and bad jokes, trying to convince myself that I should just get up to go paint. Then I had a contraction that was clearly stronger so I stayed put and turned on The Office, just like I did in early labor with your sister. The contraction wasn’t anything I really had to work through, but it was one I didn’t want to talk through. I’m always in labor denial and really thought they might pitter out so I downloaded a contraction app at 10:35pm and I timed them for about an hour to make sure I wasn’t imagining things. They were anywhere from 3 to 9 minutes apart. Even though your brother’s labor was under 5 hours start to finish, I still wasn’t convinced this was your time because with your sister I was in labor for over 36 hours.
I’ve got to pause here and give a little side story on my birth “team”. Working labor and delivery is such a gift for many reasons. One that is particularly special is that I’ve gotten to bring you guys earth side with people who I consider family. I love everyone that I work with, but I was hopeful that a few of those I was closest with could be there for your arrival. At the same time, I didn’t want to call anyone in if they weren’t already there and be an imposition. God’s hand was totally over your delivery though, everything aligned so beautifully and everyone was already there.
So God’s hand—your siblings were already at your grandparents, we were able to sneak in a last date with our best friends, Tina, my wonderful midwife, was on call for the last time before a trip, and I had four days left of on call time with my birth photographer. My best friend at work, JZ, who delivered your brother, would’ve been there for you to, but she had to move to Kanas a month before your due date. You met JZ at about 3 hours old via FaceTime though, and were brought into the world with my angel of a friend, Kyla, by my side. It was so incredibly special that Kyla offered to come in for your birth even though she’s our assistant nurse manager and isn’t even scheduled in staffing. She works harder than anyone I know, and is the best mama—and human!—and I would’ve felt awful calling her in on one of her rare days off, I’m not even sure I would’ve done it and I would’ve missed out on such a calming, uplifting spirit with me as you came into the world. But again, God was at work, and Kyla was already there that night because we had downtime on the computers. It literally could not have been more perfect.
So anyway I texted Kyla around 11:40pm to ask her what time downtime was because downtime charting is a pain in the butt and I didn’t want to add work to that chaos. Luckily downtime was early in the night and I was still pretty comfortable so I decided to try to rest. I woke your dad up off the couch and we went upstairs to bed. I slept fairly solidly until about 5am, but was woken to some tough contractions. I started timing them again and they were 4 to 10 minutes apart. By this point I knew it was the real deal and I didn’t need to be a slave to the timer so I stopped timing them. I still wasn’t convinced this would be a short process though so I texted Kyla and told her I thought she should go home at shift change to get some sleep—thanks for not listening to me Kyla! I texted Tina the same, and then I texted my sweet birth photographer Caitlin to let her know things were happening, but not to rush over, because again I thought I had plenty of time.
I put on my labor playlist and some soft lights and got in the tub. I found a lot of relief in water with Evelyn and a bit with Heath, but it really didn’t help with you. It was okay though because at this point, I felt your labor almost entirely in my belly and not in my back, which was such a blessing. Back labor is the worst. The tub wasn’t doing much for me and I was exhausted even though I had slept some so I laid back down. This was around 7am probably. I laid there for maybe 45 minutes and then the waves started coming on much stronger and closer together. I was having to breath through them at this point. I wish I could say I’m this ultra peaceful totally silent laborer, but I’m not haha. I understand the connection between the jaw and the pelvis and needing my jaw and face to be relaxed to help open and bring you to my arms, so in order for me to release the tension and pain I tend to hold in my face, I have to open my mouth and make low breathy sounds.
So around 745am my breathing woke your dad up. I told him what was going on and that it was going to be the day, but that my contractions weren’t in a good pattern—that’s me not being able to turn my labor nurse brain off. They were anywhere from 2 minutes to 15 minutes apart and averaging 5-6 minutes. Around 8am I knew I needed to move because the bed was hurting more than helping. I wanted to get in the shower again to see if the water would help any and then we planned to go for a walk to try to get the contractions more regular. I got up, did a few squats and lunges in the room and got back in the shower. I think those squats and lunges really helped you get in a better position because as soon as I got in the shower I had a strong contraction and had a lot of show. Then the waves were coming consistently every 2-3 minutes. I was in the shower maybe 10 minutes before I got out and told your dad to go ahead and up, that we needed to skip the walk, and needed to go to the hospital. At this point I could still carry a conversation between contractions and I was still super excited, but my breathing had turned from breathy sounds to low humming sounds so I knew things were changing.
Your sweet dad is never in a rush. Ever. While he was slowly getting out of bed, I was gathering last minute things and texting everyone that we were on our way. We get downstairs and, as tradition has it, your dad asks if we had time for his morning bathroom stop. To avoid the bathroom situation we had for Heath’s delivery, we obviously took the time. During this, the contractions started coming on even stronger and I was feeling tons of pressure. I had a little moment of panic that we weren’t going to make it to the hospital. I began second guessing my body and worrying that I had waited too long at home and that things were just going to go super fast like they did with Heath. We made it out to the car around 915am and I remember standing outside the car trying to get in and getting hit with another wave. I stood outside to work through it and just remember feeling super awkward because I was in such an intimate time and headspace, that I didn’t want anyone coming out, seeing me, and worrying.
Anyway we got in the car and as we were pulling out of the neighborhood I had a moment where I started crying out of no where. I just had this overwhelming wave of emotion hit me, everything I had carried from the loss of Lemon, through your pregnancy, and all of it coming to fruition and just kinda of in disbelief that I was finally going to get to hold you. I was overwhelmed with God’s goodness, and so grateful, and thankful, and nervous. It was just a lot all at once. I remember in that moment telling your dad I was scared to do it all again, and that I couldn’t believe we were finally here, and that I wanted everything to go good and to just hold you. And honestly, this was a very unlike me moment to share this because I’m a crier, but I’m not an in front of people crier, especially to your dad, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve cried to your dad. And then in a very romantic, unlike him moment, we turned the corner of our street, under the shady canopy of trees, with morning sun peaking through them, and he took my hand, kissed it, looked me in the eyes, and said it was all going to be okay. And we turned out of our neighborhood.