Judah: Praise Isaac: Laughter
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| 2 weeks old |
Our third beautiful boy child.
First of all, his name. I have explained my name criteria in posts about naming our other children, (see
here), so I won't go into that, but when we found out he was a boy, it was like, '
Oh, what in the world are we going to name him? I don't have any other boy names I like enough to use!' Or rather, ones I like that fit into my criteria.
Judah had been a name we tossed around for Ezra, but it didn't seem quite right for him. With Judah, the name and its' meaning of "praise" fit: though we had initially hoped this third one would be a girl, our hearts were so full of praise and gladness with the news that he was a little boy child. I had prayed that God would give us whichever would fit best with our family and with us as parents, so it was wonderful to know that this baby was right for us.
The more the babe in my tummy became "Judah" to us, the more the name Isaac, and its' meaning of "laughter" fit as well. I began to have this sense in my mind of Judah being a personable, sweet child filled with joy and laughter, a ray of light and sunshine. One of the art projects I did for his room was this:
I pray he grows to be a man who praises the name of Jesus, and spreads the light and joy of Christ in our dark world.
I was given two due dates for him: February 23rd (determined by the ultrasound), and February 27th (according to the doctor's office). Since both of our other kids were late--Isaiah by three days and Ezra by nine--I hoped he may come a bit early but wasn't expecting to be so lucky. (
Seriously, by month nine, okay, month eight, I am super excited to be done being pregnant.) Anyway, the morning of Friday the 26th, after a decent night sleep (for a pregnant lady who wasn't sleeping much), I woke up feeling...funny. Generally a bit sick to my stomach, and feeling the need to waddle because it felt like a bowling ball (ok--baby), was about to fall out between my legs. I showered, and made breakfast as usual, but just couldn't stand to eat, even though I was hungry. About 8:30am, I had a couple interesting pains very low in my stomach that I thought
could be contractions, and the sick feeling in my stomach continued.
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| Earlier, in the morning of the 26th, the boys get swaddled up by Daddy! |
Andrew went off to work about 9 am, and I decided I might as well get ready for the day. By 9:30am, however, I knew it was labor. Mild contractions started coming every 6-7 minutes, and I puttered around the house packing last minute things in our bags and tidying up the house. (Conveniently ignoring my two and four year old, who grew progressively wilder as time went on without supervision. They started doing things like throwing markers down the hall for fun--without any comment from their mother.) I called Andrew at 9:45am, and said, "This is it! Come home, please." By 10:30am we were ready to go, our babysitter came over, and off we went.
It's about an hour and 15 minutes to our hospital, without traffic or bad weather, and since Ezra's labor was so fast (4 1/2 hours start to finish, C-section included), we didn't want to wait around for too long. The contractions all the way there were still between 4-6 minutes apart, but were steadily growing longer and a bit more intense. Totally manageable though, for which I was very grateful.
When we got to the hospital I wasn't sure I really wanted to get checked in, because I knew what would happen: An exam, followed by orders into bed to be monitored for who-knows-how-long, and potentially pressure to get an epidural in case there was trouble with the VBAC attempt. I really just wanted to keep walking around, do my thing, and get settled in a room in time to push out the baby...
Anyway, we went up to the birthing floor to talk to the nurse, and she said she would just check me and see where thing were at. Contractions were still 5 minutes apart, but long. I was at 6 cm when she examined me, and she said, "Honey, you aren't going anywhere."
Ok, fiiiine. (Being a good patient is not my strong suit.)
Andrew reminded me how great it was that I was already at 6 cm! That was true--and I hadn't even been working very hard. It was about noon when we got settled in our room, so 3 1/2 hours since my first contractions started.
The nurses were amazing. They were super cheerful and happy to accommodate my birth plan wishes. It was a great day for birthing a baby--the sun was shining through the window, I had a full night sleep and gotten to shower and get for the day, had great hospital staff helping me, I was already at 6 cm, and....I was bored. I told them as they puttered around taking a blood sample, putting the monitor on, etc, that I felt like I needed a book for something to do. I'd have a contraction every 5-6 minutes, breathe through it, and wait. They soon found a wireless monitoring device so I could walk if I wanted to, or get in the bath, or....? I finally settled on a birthing ball, which is where I spent the rest of my labor. Andrew was great, coaching me through each contraction and supporting me as needed. By 12:30/45pm it started to feel like serious--each contraction wiped me out, and I was having to really concentrate on breathing properly and relaxing through each one.
Around 2 pm, my main nurse suggested I change positions--get in the bath, or walk, to help move things along. I did two contractions standing up and leaning on the raised bed, and they were unbelievably intense. After that the nurse said she needed to check on the baby to make sure he was ok. Later Andrew told me that Judah's heart rate had been dropping quite low during the past several contractions, and the nurse had been looking more and more concerned.
When she checked me I was at 9 cm. The nurse suggested that I have the doctor break my water, and that due to the position of the baby she thought I'd deliver him in less than 10 minutes--if I had my water broken. Or, I could keep going and let my water break on its own, but obviously there's no telling how much longer it would take.
When she said "10 minutes", I thought there was no way it would be that soon-- it took me 2 1/2 hours to push out Isaiah! I was very skeptical of her declaration. And, I had not wanted any unnecessary medical interventions, so I really wasn't sure about having them break my water. However, after talking with her a little bit, we decided that the benefits (having a baby potentially very soon, and labor being OVER), made it worth doing.
His head was right there, so it actually was a bit difficult for them to break my water. But then they did, and the doctor said, "Push!"
What? Like right now? I wasn't having
any contractions, much less the urge to push. But push I did, and after one little one, Andrew said, "I can see his hair!" They told me to keep pushing, so I did, but it was super weird because I still wasn't having pushing contractions (though definitely felt the need to push now), and there he came! It was literally five minutes or less from the time they broke my water until he was delivered.
It was incredible, exhilarating, and incredibly rewarding. He was here! Judah was finally here.
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| About 2 minutes old! |
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| So happy! |
I felt such a rush of adrenaline, and joy, and elation. It was so different from the other labors - in such a wonderful way! By the time I had Isaiah, I hadn't slept in about 32 hours, and was so utterly exhausted that I was mostly glad it was over. With Ezra, I was also tired from a night of no sleep, but also feeling out of it from the drugs of surgery. This time, though, it was fast but manageable, I was able to experience it all feeling alert and ready, and as they handed him to me, I mostly just felt such great joy and love. And no little bit of shock that it happened so fast. It was amazing!
I soon thanked my nurse for her suggestion, and had Andrew get out the goodies we brought for the staff. Though such a small token, it's a tangible expression of how thankful we are for them and how well they took care of us. (For each birth I've baked a bunch of cookies and treats to bring for the staff -- one set for the L&D team/floor and another for the after care nurses/doctors. Andrew always gets treated like Santa Claus bearing gifts when he brings them out. :) )
Andrew and I enjoyed the rest of our afternoon with our new son, a huge pizza, and an enormous amount of gratitude at how we saw God's blessing and hand over the entire day.
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| Proud Daddy! |
Welcome to our family, little one. You are loved.
