If you think my hands are full, you should see my heart.

Well, I have totally been slacking on this blog, and I apologize. Several people have emailed and messaged me asking me if I've had the baby yet and if everything was ok. Everything is wonderful, I just haven't had the time to sit down and share with the world the new joy in my life.

It's taken me 3 weeks to blog about it, but Bayor Matthias enter the world on November 23, 2013 at 8:49am, weighing a whopping 9lbs. 15oz. and measuring 20 inches long!

He is absolutely perfect. I am head over heels for this guy, and so is everyone else is our house.

What a joy it was to watch his brothers and sisters fall in love with him. They're all so great and such a big help. And going through this has made me fall in love with his daddy all over again too. I had a moment of deja vu when I was getting the epidural, and I started to have a panic attack because Steve wasn't in the room yet and I was terrified that I'd be doing this alone again. I had pushed aside how terrifying that really was for the last 3 years, but it seized me in that moment. But when Steve finally did come in the room, he kissed every tear away and calmed me down until we both heard the beautiful cries of our sweet son....and the tears came over me again.

I found out after the fact how much God really was watching over me. I had prayed really hard to have a VBAC, since I've never gotten to experience having a vaginal delivery. I got so close the first time around and desperately wanted to go through that with Steve. The doctor was hesitant because I had had more than 2 C-Sections and because there is always a 1% chance that my uterus could rupture, which would be fatal to both me and the baby, but he agreed to at least try if that's what I wanted.

Well, God didn't answer my prayer for a VBAC, but answered an unspoken prayer and saved my life and Bayor's. I was the 1%. As it turns out, the doctor found a tear in my uterus when he delivered Bayor. He said something about it to Steve at the time of birth, but didn't make it sound like too big of a deal. But the next morning he came into my hospital room to tell me how lucky I was to be here and that if I had gone into labor, or if anything out of the ordinary had happened, it would have been fatal. The tear was about 2 inches long and spanned across my stomach. He said that the only thing holding Bayor inside was the lining of my stomach. He also told me it was a good thing I had my tubes tied during the procedure, as having more kids in the future wasn't really an option any more.

After the doctor left the room, I started reading more about it (I was kind of in shock when he was talking and didn't ask enough questions) and just started balling, realizing how God had His hand in it. Even now thinking about it is a very sobering thought. I am ready to see Jesus, but my family needs me and the thought of our kids going through another loss so close to home makes me sick to my stomach. 

Now here we are, home safe and sound, grateful and happy. Bayor was very swollen when he was born and dropped a lot of weight before he came home, so he's only now getting back up to his birth weight. But he is a wonderful baby with a very chill and sweet demeanor.

He has already brought so much joy in our lives and I love watching the way he has brought our family even closer. What a blessing.

I mean, seriously. Look at those faces. 

"If you think my hands our full, you should see my heart."

Whirlwind

I've been writing this post since Tuesday, it's been hard to muddle through it and write it all out:




The last three days have been quite a whirlwind. I don't know how I've maintained this unexplainable calm (which really on the inside, I don't feel calm, more like numb) other than feeling like Jeremy is watching over me and taking care of me, allowing me to get through all this. 


The morning of the 8th, I shot out of bed early and felt panic start to set in all morning. When I got into Triage and the nurse gave me my gown and asked me to undress, I sat in the bathroom for a minute just shaking with tears. I half jokingly asked the nurse if they could put me to sleep for the surgery and she started to explain why they couldn't do that and I wouldn't want to miss it anyway. Then, I felt bad and felt the need to explain myself, and burst into tears. As did she.


When Mum and Sarah finally met me in the Triage room, I had composed myself a little. Their presence gave me some strength and they helped ease the tension and lighten the air in the room. They were a good distraction for awhile. I just wish they didn't have a reason to be there in the first place.


When I got on that operating table, I did not expect the wave of emotions that overcame me. I wanted to be strong, but instead I started freaking out, and I was literally using every once of energy I had in me to not shake and sob uncontrollably. Tears fell quickly out of panic. I was so scared, and I wanted to scream out so badly. I was trying not to sob so violently that I would shake my body and they wouldn't be able to do anything. All the nurses and doctors were trying to calm me down, rubbing my back and shoulders, assuring me I was going to do great. And all I wanted to do was scream "I need my husband here!"

They laid me down on my back immediately after the spinal anesthetic was given. One of the nurses came around to my head, and grabbed my hand and that's when I started to go numb....my body AND my emotions. She let me hold the teddy bear Jer gave me in one hand and I squeezed him so tight. I could sense Jer calming me and heard his voice in my head telling me it was going to be okay. I don't know how to explain it - it was calming and nervewrecking all at the same time. I still wanted to scream out, but somehow I was able to keep it inside even though my head was spinning. Finally, they called for my mother-in-law to come in and she grabbed my hand, wiped away some tears, and I closed my eyes.

I kept my eyes closed. The next few minutes are really unexplainable to me, because I really just went numb everywhere. I remember almost falling asleep, because I just wanted to wake up and have a baby so I didn't have to deal with it all.

Then something amazing happened. At 9:17am, they pulled Carter out, pulled the curtain down, and laid him on me - right smack against my cheek - goop and all. I never got to even touch our other two children when they were born since I was laying down, so it was a neat experience to get to feel him slimy, warm, and brand new. Jeremy's mom got to cut the cord, and tears came again. 

While I waited for surgery to be done, so many things were swirling around in my head: 


The sounds of Carter's beautiful cry, 
watching the nurses take pictures for us and put his footprints on all my baby books, 
Mum telling me she was sorry and kissing my forehead, 
the doctors calling out stats and medical terms, 
nurses telling me what to expect next,
me internally calling out Jer's name, asking God why he had to miss it.


So much was happening. And yet, it was just an undertow below the numbness I was feeling, not really thinking anything and thinking everything at once. 

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Fast forward, and I'm still hanging on even better than I expected. I think I'm just trying not to think about it all, cause it's a little overwhelming to face the reality of all this. I have found that I'm not able to really talk to Carter about his Daddy without crying, but I guess I didn't really expect to. And whenever I can't get through it, I just end like a broken record, telling him how much I loved his Daddy and I know he would too.

One thing that does make me very happy to say is that I'm head over heels for my new little man. The resentment I feared might creep in just simply has not. Praise God. I've found that I just don't ever want to put him down once I have a hold of him. Like I'm holding on to the last little traces that Jeremy left behind. It helps that he is the sweetest little thing and thus far has been a dream baby. I think I deserve that. I'm so thankful for the help I have here from my sweet Sarah, who has been doing so much with my older two and allowing me the time I've been craving with Carter. Along with help from many others. I'm just trying to soak up the first glimpses of pure joy I've felt in my heart in 3 months. They come and go so quickly.


Right now, I'm just trying to live today, because tomorrow seems like too much to ask for. And today, for the first time in awhile, is okay.

This is it

This is really gonna happen.

I'm gonna have a baby alone, without the one who helped me make him. Without my rock, without my support. I know other people will be around to support me, and I'm thankful, but it's not the same.

It will never be the same.

I feel like if I can just get through tomorrow, it'll be ok. Everything is painful anyway, and I know watching Carter grow and reach milestones without his Daddy there to witness will be hard, but this hurdle seems like the biggest to survive: bringing a life we created into the world alone. That's not how it's meant to be.

I've not shared this story with many people as to not misconstrue my love and desire for Carter, but it makes a lot of this make sense (not that any of this really makes any sense):

I was done having kids after two. But Jeremy was never quite sure he wanted to be done yet. After we found out my sister-in-law was pregnant with her fourth, and me thinking she was crazy, it really sunk in how selfish I was. On the drive home from Canada one night, I lost it. I felt this heavy weight on my heart knowing that I didn't want any more kids because it would be inconvenient for my life. Jeremy and I spent the entire 4 hour trip talking about it, crying about it, praying about it. We decided we'd see how things went, and leave it in God's hand.

We tried once.

The next morning, I decided that if I wasn't pregnant, I didn't want to keep trying to get pregnant. If I was, great, but I was really content with our sweet little family of 4. But, deep down I knew I was pregnant (we discovered it was my most fertile day of the month). And even just the possibility of it scared me a little, but knowing Jer was by my side made it worth it, and made me excited to have another child with him. We made a pretty great team.

I waited on pins and needles to take a pregnancy test. I took it a few days early, in fact. I picked one up on my way out to see Jeremy one morning at work. Our tradition was always that I'd take the test, he'd read the results. I stopped at the college, peed on a stick in the gymnasium bathroom, and brought it out for him to read...while my heart was pounding out of my chest.

I wish I could describe the look on his face when he read it. I haven't been able to get it out of my head. His eyes wide, his smile crooked and growing wider, he said "We're gonna have a another baby."

I instantly burst into tears.

Jer lovingly reassured me that everything was gonna be ok. But they weren't tears of sadness. I was never sad, just overwhelmed. I cried because of Jeremy's excitement. I cried because of my own excitement. I cried because I was scared but so looking forward to walking this journey again with him. He was pretty good about treating me like a princess, but it was so magnified when I was carrying his child, and I was selfishly looking forward to him doting on me again. He loved me pregnant.

Jer used to tell me I was crazy for saying that labor was my favorite part of pregnancy. But, it was. It's intimidating, and extremely painful, but it was the most incredible experience we'd ever shared together, and nothing has ever brought us closer. Bonding with him in that way is one of my most cherished memories.

Jeremy was a man's man. Rough and tough hunter and fisher, smelly, inappropriate, and very stubborn....but inside he was just a big teddy bear. And that never showed more than when I was bearing his children. He was always so nervous about labor because he worried so much about me (I had some close calls with both deliveries), but I never worried. It's hard to explain, but I waited 9 months to share that day with him.

And now, looking back, it just infuriates me. That one night of uncharacteristic vulnerability where I decided to give up all control to God now almost feels like a slap in the face. I trusted you, and this is what happens? You allow me to conceive knowing I would have to raise this child alone? Why do I have to trade one life for another?


Don't misunderstand, I love Carter unconditionally already. I can't wait to hold him in my arms and I know that my greatest responsibility in life is to care for innocent lives that Jeremy created with me. And I am honored to be the mother of his children. However, in hindsight, knowing I'd have to do this alone, I wouldn't have even considered it. I did it because of Jeremy, even for him. And I can share this because I think it's safe to say that no one would voluntarily choose to raise three kids alone.

And now, thinking about labor has the complete opposite effect on me. I already feel so lonely, and I'm terrified to get through this. I'm angry that I won't be able to see Jeremy's face when Carter arrives. I'm heartbroken that I can't hold his hand and feel his excitement, to watch that look of awe in his eyes when he lays them on his son. I feel resentful that Carter will never get to share that bond with his Daddy, never have even the smallest memory of him. On my own, I am such a bad representation of what we were together. And I feel like my kids are getting cheated out of that, especially Carter. My heart hurts for him already.

My body is so ready to be done with this. And I'm ready to see my little man. I've never been so ready and yet so unprepared for anything in my life.

Please continue to pray that redemption will be found tomorrow, even in the slightest way, for this bittersweet day. That love will be in abundance, and strength will be provided.

And pray, please pray, that Jeremy will meet us there.