The birth of Benjamin Elliott

On Thursday, November 12th I woke up feeling pretty good. That morning I had my first cup of Third Trimester Tea and sat on the chaise with Conley in my lap while I used a bright orange pen to journal. I wrote about patience. I wrote about patient anticipation because my appointment on Tuesday was discouraging. There had been no change in my body since the week before. I had been so sure the baby was coming and then I was crushed. John had had Wednesday off so we took our last trip to Babies R Us and I realized he was waiting too, and this would be the end of just the two of us, so I would be patient and enjoy our time. "When am I ever going to be this pregnant with my first child ever again?" I wrote in bright, happy orange.

I spent the day putting away the new baby items and doing light house work. Around 1:30pm I laid down for a nap, Conley glued to my legs. I woke up on my own around three and thought about showering. However, when I sat down to pee I felt a strange pop. I looked down and there was a little dripping. "Did my water just break?" I figured if, in fact, my water was breaking I'd be really happy later that I had showered. I quickly took a shower and dried off, taking care to not drip on anything important, still thinking I may be mistaken... Once I was dry I tried to put on lotion but found it difficult to do because I had to stand in one spot or risk getting things wet. "Alright, this has to be it. What else would be coming out of me?" I called John and told him I thought I may have broken... He didn't really believe I could be so unsure AND in labor... I told him I wanted to go to the OB's office but would be really disappointed if I were, in fact, starting labor and he weren't there. He told the guys he was leaving, but may be back.

We met up at the OB's office but I still wasn't feeling anything. We didn't sit in the waiting room because we were both so nervous and, frankly, I didn't want to risk leaking on anything. Once we got to the exam room and could speak more candidly with one another as we waited we realized how excited and a little scared we both were. My contractions were beginning to become uncomfortable too. When we're nervous, of course, we make jokes... By the time the OB came in I was giggling so hard it forced every ounce of water out of my body, which made me laugh more. "You're in labor," she said definitively... "If it had been like this before," I told her, "I wouldn't have bothered to come in!" She checked my cervix for reference and I was at 4cm and 80% effaced. She wanted us to go right to the hospital (I was positive for Strep B so would need antibiotics asap), but we were totally unprepared. She had a pretty grave look on her face when she told us we could go home first, "but don't wait around," she said.

We got home and scurried to get things together. Conley was a wreck! He had no idea what was going on! I made myself a piece of cinnamon toast thinking I would be in labor until the next day and may not get another chance to eat. As John made himself a pb&j I started to get hectic inside and noted that the contractions were starting to make me nervous. We packed up the car and took the dog to PetSmart where he would stay until Sunday. While I waited in the car for John to sign Conley in I started to get really REALLY uncomfortable. Between PetSmart and the hospital John called his dad and told him I wasn't in any pain yet. "Oh no! This is pain, I'm in pain now!"

When we got to the labor and delivery ward the nurses said they were starting to worry we weren't showing up! We told them we had to take the dog to the boarding facility and they were all a little stunned and uncomfortable at the thought! We sat in the hallway for a few minutes waiting for our room, they were particularly full that night. I informed the receptionist that in two minutes I was going to take off all of my clothes with no regard for where I was. She called someone and we were in a room in the next minute and a half! Just in time!

By the time I was in a gown and in bed I was so distracted and focused I almost didn't notice they were putting in my IV (a source of real anxiety for me). John stood by my head and just kept telling me, "You're doing great, everything is fine, your body is working!" The first time I saw my own ob it was 6:45 and I had gotten to 6cm and 90%. John and I worked through lots of really tough contractions with no interest in how long or how far apart they were. They seemed to be much stronger much sooner than I had expected and I was honestly scared, thinking I wouldn't be able to do this for twelve hours. When the nurse checked me again at 7:30 and I was still at 6 cm I started to cry. "It's okay," John said, "your body is working, things are still happening even though there's no change..." He was awesome! I worked hard for the next half hour, really trying to visualize things opening and changing and softening. At 8 o'clock, when the nurse came back, THANK GOD! I was at 8 cm and my antibiotics were finished!! "You want to get in the shower?" Heck yes! John helped me up and into the shower, pausing for all the contractions.

The shower was amazing. John used the shower head to spray my lower back or my belly as I requested. I sat on the seat, crouched on the floor, leaned up against the wall... Just kept moving and breathing, loving the water! After about 45 minutes I started to feel like things were getting easier which made me think the water was stalling labor. John helped me towel off and get back into my gown. Walking back to the bed was surprisingly easy and I seemed to have this burst of energy. John got me into the side lying position I loved so much and then it hit. I had this.. contraction.. I cannot describe. It took every ounce of me to ride it and I threw up a little which immediately took my mind to "TRANSITION!!" All I could say was, "I want to get checked!" "What?" John said. "Call the nurse... I want to be checked!" He made the call, and in a very confused voice said, "my wife wants to be checked, or something." Two super contractions later the nurse came in and asked as she put on her gloves, "do you feel the urge to push." I just nodded emphatically as I grunted though another super contraction. "Okay! Don't!" I think the look on my face told her that wasn't much of an option. She told me to just make little grunts when I felt the urge, Dr. Goitom was still in surgery. She checked and I was at 10 cm and totally effaced. "We're ready!" she said, but she didn't think the doctor would be for another five or ten minutes. I really thought I was going to have my baby without a medical professional! Twelve minutes later the nurse came back and allowed me a few pushes before the doctor came.

When Dr. Goitom finally got to the room she checked me and smiled before she sat down to do paper work. John and the nurse helped me push for about half an hour. The nurse told me that the baby had a lot of hair. I was surprised he had any! I noted how much easier this part was, I so preferred it over the opening stage! After that initial half hour of pushing the nurse told the doctor we were ready for her. She walked over, put her things in order and just sat there... I'm still surprised by how much she didn't do! Although, I know our bodies are made for this..! After another eleven minutes (41 total pushing) Benjamin came right out and was placed on my chest. He was surprisingly quiet, he hardly cried after those initial few protests. His eyes were wide open and looking right at me! In those first few minutes everything about him was perfect! I say "those first few" because after about twenty minutes of snuggling on my chest his body temperature was dropping and he was grunting too much. Because of the group B strep Ben was at a high risk of infection. They want the antibiotics finished at least four hours before delivery... Mine had finished a little less than two hours prior. Benjamin went into the warmer and a nurse from the NICU came in and suctioned his lungs. That was the most angry he got in those first few days. Once they were done working on him he had to stay in the warmer but I was able to sit with him and sing all the songs he already knew. He laid there, very content, watching me sing.

It really was a perfect night!

Due Date UpDate

*sigh*

So, Thursday night we did... that thing... you know, that got us into this situation! and there was some bleeding... Alright, there was a lot of bleeding. The kind of bleeding you don't just sit around and wait to stop. We went straight to the hospital where they hooked me up and checked me out. Baby sounded terrific! His heart rate was only a tiny bit slower than normal (and totally within healthy range) but I was contracting. I had NO idea! I didn't really believe the nurse at first; she showed me the tape, put her hand on my belly and said, "see there it is, feel your stomach." Sure enough, it was hard as a rock and Baby wasn't moving! Once it finished he freaked out and the nurses thought he was so cute! They were very impressed by his leg strength! We had to hang around for a while until the hospital's OB was able to come in (my OB didn't think it was necessary for her to come see me). She finally came in about 45 minutes later and checked everything out. The bleeding had slowed and wasn't coming from anything really important but I was 70% effaced and between one and 2cm. They wanted me to walk around for an hour and see if there were any changes. We protested. I talked to the nurse and told her even if I were in labor we'd be going home once they checked me. We want most of our laboring to happen at home, not in the hospital. She called my OB and gave us the go ahead to go home, get some sleep, and come into the office in the morning.

Friday morning I had an appointment with my primary care about an echo I had had the week before. Everything looked terrific! When the nurse took my blood pressure though she was surprised my how high it was and asked if I had trouble with it. I said, "no, I may be in labor though." She was stunned, "what are you going to do now?" I told her I was going across the hall as soon as I was done there. When I got across the hall I had to see one of the OB partners, mine was at the hospital. I really really liked this OB. She gave me terrific compliments and told me, based on what she was seeing, that my labor would be a breeze! The bad news? There is always bad news for us... My strep B culture came back positive. It could amount to nothing or it could cause infection in me and/or the baby and we could both die. Good thing I didn't know that the night before, they may not have let me go! She said it's no big deal, I just have to come in sooner and get antibiotics ever four hours. I said, "oh, it's a big deal..." "What's the problem?" "I one time passed out when my mom was getting an IV placed... I take a Xanax every time I get blood taken... If I have to get an IV I'm going to be so stressed my body is going to shut down and I'm going to need pitcocin and an epidural and in the end I'm going to have to have a cesarean because I can't handle all those needles!!!" She told me they may be able to give me a little Valium before placing the IV (once she looked it up though she found out it's not an option, big surprise), and I'll be fine. She sent me home with an IV catheter so we could "become friends" and told me to familiarize myself with the process so I won't be so creeped out! The cath is on the table and sometimes I pick my teeth with it!

As of this morning, things are moving pretty slowly, but I've got a chiropractic appointment (which can induce labor) and a friend coming to help me clean... We're shooting for lots of labor inducing activity! I'd like to have this baby out by the weekend, but who knows? He's been on his own time line all along! Still, he's been fantastic through the whole thing!

Pray for Ismael

Saying Goodbye

He was a week and a half old...

This is Ismael. Ismael was born at the Village of Hope in Morocco while I was there in 2005. He was conceived by his unwed mother during a rape. She is an illegitimate woman, as low as you can go in an Arab world. Her first child, a baby girl, was sold. The two babies share a father, oddly enough, and he is the one who sold her. No one knew she was pregnant. She left her village under the guise of visiting family. She stayed at the Village for a month before she delivered. I lived with her and a French girl named Sofie. I cannot describe the unbelievable language barrier we had between us for those weeks we occupied the same space! Still, we loved each other. Although it wasn't much of a surprise, it was a tremendous honor when she asked Sofie and me to name her little boy. Ismael means "God listens." I have to remind myself that that is the reason we picked his name. I was so sure in those first few months of his life that God was not listening.

She came to the orphanage for her own safety and for that of her precious cargo. She wanted him to have more than she did. The Village takes babies and puts them in families. There are three families at The Village. When Ismael was born two of the families had eight children (their max) and one had three (my little darlings) but no parents. The couple, who had committed to living in Morocco with the soul purpose of raising eight orphans to adulthood in a Christ centered home, left. I can't judge them. It is a huge task, I couldn't do it. But their departure is the source of my heart ache. When I visited, the three little ones (ages 2-5) were being taken care of by two women, one from Canada and one from England. They stayed for years until a couple was found who would take their place. There is a family in that house now, praise God, but back then...

It was decided that the two of them should not take on an infant before parents were found. I discussed taking Ismael home with me with the leaders at the Village, but not being Muslim made it impossible for me to adopt him legally. My sweet little Ismael stayed in the care of Sofie and an English woman who showed up mere days before I left until he was almost a month old. After Sofie left he was sent to a private orphanage in a nearby village. This orphanage has ties with the Village, but for some reason my contacts lost track of Ismael. Today is his birthday. He is four years old. I can keep track of how big he is (generally speaking) because he is only four days younger than my sweet little Kera! She is in preschool now. She has a personality three times bigger than her little frame and loves to color. I know they are not alike, but I wonder how Ismael is. I wonder if he is learning to write. I wonder if he feels loved and safe, but most of all I wonder if he has heard the truth about Jesus. He was born in The Village, a strong hold of Jesus in a vast dessert of lies. That has to mean something. It has to have some effect on his future. I prayed over his tiny body so hard those twelve days I had with him. But now, as I sit here carrying my own little boy, waiting to hold him in my arms, praying that he will know Jesus soon I cannot help feeling like God did not listen four years ago. He was there, in a little bastion of God's people and now... Only God knows.

But, we named him Ismael for a reason. God will listen. So, please, ask Him to protect this little boy. Ask Him to draw him, somehow to Himself.

35 and counting.

We're at 35 weeks... Well, 35 and a half! Every day counts now! Baby is getting big and very very strong. He has kept his feet on my right side since he was 20 weeks, which means he's in a very good position but I'm not sure my right ribs can take it much longer! I'm pretty sure he's been hooking his toes on the OUTSIDE of my rib... He has become much more personable with John but increasingly intolerant of Conley! I'm pretty sure it's because John touches while Conley squishes! We got back to yoga last week and he was pretty uncooperative there too! Next week we start our weekly OB check ups and they keep saying everything looks (sounds, feels) really good.... I'm a little concerned though, I had a couple Braxton Hicks about a month ago and not a one since! I keep warning my body that it's going to want to start practicing, or warming up or something! Nada. My only real concern is that my parents will be going home on the 6th of December... That's one week after he's due. Maybe I'll start jogging or taking the stairs... more... We'll see....

Time is NOT on our side!

We're to 34 weeks! That means we've got six to work with... John will be gone for a week for training (stateside), so really we've got five weeks... The paint is on the walls, the plumbing is fixed, the crib is on it's way, and we have a car seat to bring Baby home in! Good, great! But:

One of the advantages to registering at Babies R Us was their registry close-out program. When you close your registry you get 10% off everything left on it! We're super stoked about getting a break like that. We went to the store the other night to get the stroller/car seat and thought we'd ask about closing out our registry while we were there. Glad we asked! There's a catch we didn't notice in the fine print... You can't get the 10% until you get the coupon in the mail. They send out the coupons every two weeks, so depending on where our due date lies in their process we may not get our coupon until after Baby comes home!! I (being a bit on the compulsive, crazy side) wanted everything in the house by the beginning of November... Not only is that not going to work, it may be the beginning of December before we CAN get the rest of our baby crap!!

I think, though, I would have had more of a melt down if I wasn't so far along. Baby is big, and healthy, and he's coming! I WANT him to come! I want to see his little face. Also he's starting to become a bit of a nuisance at night, he likes to push his foot against the mattress as hard as he can. It was cute in the beginning, when "as hard as he can" wasn't all that hard, but he's getting strong now! I'm afraid he's going to kick a hole in my right side! Of course, on the bright side, he's getting bigger.... I mean, older. He responds to things now. He responds to John's touch and Conley's barking. When John reads to him he sticks his butt out as hard as he can! It takes my breath away (physically and otherwise)! We so cannot wait to meet him, hopefully he likes us!!

Guilt

Guilt is a funny emotion. It's range is as expansive as the heavens and it's source can be as varied as the shore. It is a good emotion. Guilt keeps us from doing stupid things, things that can hurt other people. Of course, if you're anything like me, guilt can come from nowhere for absolutely no reason... Or even very very bad reasons. What I don't know about guilt is how to get rid of it. I mean, if I hurt someone's feelings or step on the dog I know how to get rid of it: Fess up, be truly sorry, try to avoid those actions in the future. But what about the guilt that has no source, or worse, a source you can never EVER be sorry for. Such as, and I'm just throwing this out there, creating the life of a little boy you plan to love forever with every fiber of your being...? How is it even possible to feel guilty about carrying your child? I know (first hand) HOW it's possible, but why am I here? And that's the big question. Why am I here? My pregnancy would be inconsequential, completely neutral if I wasn't HERE. How many situations can YOU come up with where someone's pregnancy would actually inflict distress on another person? How is it that the best parts of my life make other people hide, find a new church, avoid common fellowship? Am I totally alone in this? Am I the only person in the world that can crush another person's spirit with my manifold blessings? I hate being an adult.

Bellytastic

26 Weeks

Here are the most recent belly shots! I feel like he's hit a growth spurt and is feeling extra greedy for space. When I look at pictures or diagrams of what's going on down there I think, "wow, I'm way bigger than that!" And women I don't know will say, "you're so tiny!" When they hear I'm only 26 weeks they say, "oh! You're going to have quite the belly!" No one in the medical community seems to care that I'm so big though... Of course, they don't have to push him out! Still, he's moving and healthy. He's a terrific listener, and super good company on those days I have absolutely nothing to do! We'll keep this good thing we've got for a long time, I think!

25 weeks and totally in love!

I love to see that baby’s face! He looks like a little person. He has an adorable little nose and a mouth that can already make expressions. Although, how, where, and when he moves provides much greater insight into his personality. He likes to sit low, where there is less space, I believe because it makes him feel safer. He moves quite a bit after we eat, and it’s generally just kicking around, which I think means he’s very happy about getting food! At night when I lay down he tosses and turns for quite a while (like I’ve always done), but once he’s settled in he sleeps like a rock! Literally... If I start out on my left side and he gets comfy in my right side when I turn over it’s like I’m leaning on a rock! It takes him a while to concede too: strong willed! In the morning when I have our tea and read my Bible he likes to stretch out a bit. He keeps his head down and puts his feet up by my right ribs. His hands will either be by his head, moving around or somewhere in the middle of my abdomen, it’s like his morning stretching routine! The craziest times are when I’ve been driving (or passengering) for a while. He turns sideways and puts his head in my left side and his bum in my right! I’m guessing he doesn’t like it very much. Oh, and then there’s EVERY time I use the bathroom! He takes this as an invitation to sit even lower... Get his head as close to the outside world as possible... I hope this isn’t a prequel to sunglasses, keys, toys, and clothes in the toilet! Just as long as he doesn’t baptize my jewelry! Of course, no matter what he’s doing, any time someone wants to feel him and places their hands over him he stops! I think he’s a very private person (hello, John Miller)!

I’m getting to know our little son more and more everyday. This feels like that really magical time John and I spent thousands of miles apart learning each other only through phone calls and emails. Seeing the ultrasound is like one of those infrequent, but surreal visits we had... When something abstract and hard to grasp takes on shape and beauty. There is a smile where I thought there would be, there’s a touch I couldn’t have imagined, and eyes that really are glowing. I’m praying that John’s time away these last couple months hasn’t hindered their connection... I know they cannot connect the same way baby and I do, but I so want there to be SOMEthing there before our little love makes his debut.

Livin' on a Prayer

We're half way there!  The prayer we're living on is that everything stays just as healthy as it is now and that we can actually name this baby before he makes his debut!  I wouldn't be so concerned if it hadn't been so easy to pick out a girl's name!  This happened with the dog too.  We went to the breeders expecting to bring home a girl.  Shannon was her name, before we even met her.  We got there and this little boy just wouldn't let me leave without him!  We could have just named him Shannon, but that seemed cruel.  He was "Puppy" for the first two and a half weeks he was ours!  John would tell you that he was Little Trouper...  But that's just ridiculous!  Plus, it's too close to Li'l Brudder:

http://www.homestarrunner.com/sbemail109.html

Back to the baby.  I have gotten bigger.  I think I'll wait another week to show you just how big, but I feel like I'm wearing a shirt that's too small...  even when I'm not wearing a shirt!  And baby is moving around like crazy!  It takes him almost twenty minutes to get comfy at night when we lay down to go to bed!  We miss John like mad, but we do get to talk every day.  

So there's my crappy update!  My pensive powers are almost entirely taken up by paint colors and outdoor furniture!  I'll be better in the future, I promise!

How Bitter can Sweet be?

Monday was a big day.  Almost crushingly big.  John is gone now, although I did just get an email on our super secret spousal email!  He's all drugged up on Ambien...  Still Bitter and Sweet tend to cancel each other out, or make each other worse.  I haven't decided yet.  

John had to leave mere hours after finding out that his first child is a boy.  He was here, and that is outstanding.  But still, looking at that man as he rubbed my belly and thanked God for our SON...  I don't think my heart has ever broken so completely.  It's not going to get any better.  Watching him kiss his infant or his toddler goodbye is not something I'm prepared for.  Don't kid yourself, and please don't try to kid me.  It will happen.  But one thing I've learned in this strange little life God has given me is this:  He has given me the strength to handle what He gives me, no more....  And never anything less.  So once we get there, I will be fine, we will be fine.  Our little boy will know nothing different.  And he will be strong!  

The Sweet is almost too much for my unstable, hormonal heart to bear up under!  It is a boy, a he!  I can't honestly say, though, that I would have felt any less for a girl...  I think seeing his face again is the real thrill.  I've been getting to know him, but was unsure about the signals I was getting...  Yesterday just further established that this little man is the one I've known all these months.  He moves and responds exactly as I expect him to.  That doesn't mean he moves the way I WANT him to.  He moved his legs every time she tried to measure.  He wouldn't open his little fists so we could count his fingers.  We had to go to extreme measures to obtain his head circumference!  All along though, he was pushing his little face into my body, trying to hide himself in the safety of his mommy.  He has found the tiniest, tightest crevasse to wedge himself into, and while it makes me pee 12 (no kidding) times a day, as long as I know he feels safe I'm alright with it!  He has a strong heart, good bones, all his fingers (discovered after a bit of cajoling), and parents who love him very very much!  I think he's gonna make it!

This one is kind of fun.  I've never seen this vantage point before...  It is the crown of his head (to the left) and his five finger tips (middle)!  So, he's got his left hand across his face with his fingers up at his forehead!  He's such a funny baby!

No thoughts, just shots.

These are actually from the beginning of May...  It's just taken me a while to actually scan them so I could share them with everyone!  I'm pressed NOW because next Monday, the 6th, we'll be having our anatomy scan!  I'll have new pictures to compare with this set and...  Hopefully....  A sex to designate our little joy as a he or a she!  Here's the hitch:  If John is, in fact TDY (read: Temporary DutY) the little tell tale shot will go in an envelope (without having been seen by yours truly) to be opened upon his homecoming.  When I know, the world will know!  Until then, we must all be satisfied with these perfect little shots!

Baby seems to like his fingers! Look at those little tiny feet!! He seems quite cozy.  He kept his hands up the whole time but did kick his legs around a bit while we watched!

Belly Shots

Here are the belly shots we've got so far.  Look at how long my hair was in week 11!  I donated almost a whole foot a couple days later.  Hence the bob!

7 Weeks 11 Weeks 16 Weeks

P.S.  I know the signs aren't readable...  I've got brain fog, talk to the man!

16 Weeks

"You'll hit 12 weeks and feel so much better!"

"The second trimester is so much better than the first!"

"I never felt better than when I was pregnant!"

Lies!  All lies!  Once one thing clears up, something else goes horribly wrong.  The prescription that is keeping my food down makes me sleep 'til nine.  Though I'm not sleeping comfortably.  Besides the new pillow between my knees there's an extra one beneath my head to keep the mucus from pooling in my sinus cavity...  Although I still have a horrible sinus headache when I do finally get up.  That might be because of the coughing though.  The ALL night coughing that my husband is sweet enough to say doesn't wake him up!  It might sound much worse to me than it is though.  See, my left ear has been plugged since I got off the plane from Seattle, TWO AND A HALF WEEKS AGO!  Aside from the real ailments there are the relative: I can't take a flight of stairs without becoming winded, and there are two flights between my washer and our drawers; the only clothes that fit now are my (very small) collection of fat clothes; for some reason Jasmine Green tea doesn't taste good anymore; and, I know this doesn't sound so bad, but I've eaten the better part of a watermelon in two days.  Seriously, being pregnant has been the most frustrating, exhausting, libido killing part of my life.  

But

There is a baby.  A tiny little life that can still fit into the palm of my hand but has overtaken my heart.  When I look down at my swollen abdomen I do not despise the pudge, I adore it.  I look at the few pictures I have of that forming body and my life is good.  We are no longer a couple, we are a family.  We have a person to form, a soul to guide, a life to watch blossom in front of our eyes.  There is not yet a he or she assigned, air has not been gulped, and there is no love in those eyes for us, not yet.  But our lives are altered.  Our souls feel bigger.  Our bond is closer.  

We are parents!