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eloise josephine–a birth story, part 3.

I hope the anticipation has been worth it, Eloise, because what I’m about to tell you is the story of one of the very best moments of my life. And you made it so…

(For the full story, see my previous posts here and here 😉

I had prayed and prayed about the circumstances of your birth, and one of my consistent prayers had been for a malleable nursing staff on the day of your delivery. We have a friend who works in the birth center, and if the stars didn’t align for her to be there, I really, really hoped that whoever God ordained would be flexible and open-minded. I hadn’t meant to test our nurse with my insistence on staying put that morning, but when she went with the flow and obliged, another guard of mine fell. I settled even more into the mental and emotional space I needed to usher you into the world in a peaceful way.

Both you and my body continued to dictate my movements and positions, working together so beautifully it felt like a choreographed dance. The more and more I learn about, experience and witness birth, the more I am convinced this is true. Our God is the ultimate Creator, and He has designed our bodies so incredibly to be able to grow and birth babies into this world. At no point in the process of delivering you was this lost on me. In that space, no matter the intensity, I just marvel at every single thing that transpires. It is the most powerful combination of experiences I could imagine.

Within minutes, I was instinctively making my way from a standing position to where I would eventually give birth to you–on the hospital floor. At some point in this window of time, our photographer arrived and began to capture each moment leading up to your arrival. I will forever be grateful to her for the indelible images she grasped with her lens. This series below so perfectly articulates the range of emotion and physical change I experienced over such a short period of time:

 

When my doctor entered the room, I was on all fours and committed to staying there. He was exactly the combination of laid back and take charge that I needed–he casually joined us on the floor to measure my progress and to begin guiding my second stage of labor (or pushing), at the same time leading the nursing staff to prepare the room for your delivery and to help make me as comfortable as possible. Not once did he question my positioning or suggest we relocate to the bed, but rather he encouraged me to continue listening to my body and allowed you and me to guide the process of your birth. Truly, I could not have been more grateful (or felt more safe) than I was with your dad, Karlye, and our doctor as my support team. Everyone in the room played so perfectly into the scene. I had visualized these moments so many times in my mind, and now in real life, they were materializing even more beautifully than I could have imagined!

Now, all of labor and delivery isn’t a fairy tale, and it is extremely challenging physical and mental work. Some of the words I’d use to describe my state of mind as we rounded the corner on your delivery include intense, focused, determined, primal, maternal, powerful, exhausted, exhilarated and anticipatory. Perhaps that’s an interesting mix, but in that state, everything was so heightened and clear to me, and every one of those words is accurate and true. I remember locking eyes with our photographer in moments, feeling like I was absolutely pleading for relief, and then in other moments, just maintaining a supernatural level of resolve (that is probably reserved for childbirth and little else). My doctor told us that you would likely arrive in a timeframe of ten to thirty minutes, which felt both hopeful and long. I wanted so badly to meet you, I wanted the deeply intense pain to cease, and I wanted to know that there was an end in sight. This loose window helped me to set my expectations, and really gave me the last few bursts of energy I needed to see the process through and finish well.

I pushed for roughly twenty-five minutes, and in the end, you weren’t entirely easy on your mama. At that point, it didn’t matter in the least. Our doctor was attuned to what we both needed, and in the last minute he had me turn onto my left side for your birth. When your daddy announced that you were a girl, it was a though something inside of me burst. I couldn’t hold back my joyful tears a second longer! I had been so sure that you were a girl, sensing it very early in my pregnancy. As soon as I knew it was true, so much about the past nine months was confirmed for me…my intuition, your brother’s insistence, and most particularly, what I had clung to as a promise from God that you would indeed be born a healthy baby girl.

The delight of setting eyes on you for the first time was even greater than I had imagined. You were simply marvelous as we watched you pink up from head to toe in the doctor’s hands. It looked as though you’d been twirling with your umbilical cord as you entered the world, and our doctor unwound you from the cord while you silently opened and closed your eyes. You were perfectly alright, but you didn’t make a sound. We waited for your cord to stop pulsing, and then your daddy clamped and cut it as I brought you close. Nothing could have been better than that warm feeling of you snuggled up in my arms. Karlye asked if you had a name. “This is Eloise Josephine,” your daddy and I announced at the same time. We lay there on the hospital floor just soaking each other in. Enveloped. Exhausted. Peaceful. You had come in just a matter of hours…from the time I woke up with a start until the minute you were born was just over three hours and twenty minutes. So much transpired in that short period of time, and you were without a doubt quite ready to be in the world. I was quite ready to have you.

heaven

Eventually, we moved to the bed under warm blankets. The hospital staff was very respectful of my desire to keep you close. We waited to take your measurements and check off boxes, and you kangaroo crawled your way to me and began nursing almost immediately. When we finally did put you on the scale, I guessed your birthweight to the ounce! You weighed in at nine pounds, two ounces, and measured 21 inches long. Afterwards your daddy cuddled you while I got cleaned up and ready for your first visitor…your big brother, Henry! Nothing could have made me happier than to see him fall in love with you for the first time. Not only did you steal our hearts at first glance, but you grasped your brother in a single moment. He had known it was you all along. We settled in as a family of four, piled closely together on the bed for pictures and snuggles and plenty of time for me to hold BOTH of my precious kiddos in one grasp. I couldn’t be more thankful that you made me a mama all over again that day.

August 19th 2013 changed our lives. You were a force in my belly, a force upon entry, and now, you are a powerful little force in this world. Each day, as you grow and learn and become more of who God has created you to be, I consider just how blessed we are that you’ve been entrusted to our care. Our family is more complete because of you in it, Eloise Josephine. You are right where you belong.

deeply in love with you sweet baby girl, and so honored to be the vessel God ordained to bring you here.

xo,

your mama

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you’re safe with me.

Dear Eloise,

Here you are, now twelve weeks old, and all this time I’m racking up mommy guilt like a pro because I’ve hardly written since you were born. It’s an amazing phenomenon, this mommy guilt thing, and I’m convinced it’s evil’s way of getting under my skin in this beautifully raw season. It’s true I’ve not written you much–and I regret not keeping up the way I did for your brother. But then…well, let’s just say there’s no benefit in keeping score.

Life with you is full to the full, Miss E. You, Henry and I keep ourselves busy every single day if nothing else. And when the day is done and H has long gone to bed, we keep on going, you and I–into the wee hours with our marathon snuggles and feeding sessions and cooing and tears. I didn’t imagine it this way, and yet, I can’t say how I did see us moving through these hours. Maybe with a little more sleep or a little more freedom to accomplish tasks and stay on top of things, I guess. I want you to know I’ve never been mad about this. Frustrated with circumstances in moments, sure. Worn down, yes. But never mad, and certainly not with you.

I want to be meeting all of your needs and imprinting a level of security for you that you’ll carry with you through childhood and into adulthood. If you need mama all but for the blessed and restorative hours you sleep each night, I’m yours. I hope you sense this in the care I’m giving as we learn each other more. You are always safe with me, no matter the day or hour. I pray this notion is woven into your heart.

As I type this evening, you are where you can be found nightly–asleep in my lap on the couch just waiting out the hours together. I’ve tried to tuck you in sooner, but it’s not your cup of tea. You want to be close, close, close, and I can’t deny you this at such a young age. It may be tiring, but it’s also lovely. And the things piled up around me are ones you’ll never remember…tasks I once saved for H’s bedtime that get little to no attention now. By this time, I thought we’d acclimate; we’d find a rhythm and be moving toward a schedule. I thought you’d be drinking bottles and I’d be back to work part time in a more substantial capacity than I am to date. I thought a lot of things and planned to be more present doing so much else, when really all I should have planned on for sure was you. I’m getting there.

Now, that’s what I do. I simply plan on you and your sweet brother who loves you, and together we move in and out of days like buoys, bobbing in a bouncy sea. Sometimes we’re admiring the horizon, sometimes just staying afloat, rarely longing for shore or something different than this. The thing is, you two are a high calling (and arguably the highest, while you’re growing), and the rest of what I feel called to or pulled toward will either wait for me or it won’t. I’m not neglecting anything on purpose. Just parenting you two with a purpose and working to shake off the mommy guilt for the rest. I’m almost over that, too, in a way. Because I’m not sure God could make it much clearer that you are the thing. That this is the thing. Your freedom to be who you are at this early stage and my freedom to love you to the utmost degree. And these are the things–the hours we keep all tucked in close, your deep dependency for now, this little family we have become, and all of the safety I can offer you. When the piles reach the ceiling in my mind and the world is pulling as it is wont to do, I pray that I will have been unwaveringly faithful to this.

you are loved, little one. so very, unbelievably loved.

mom

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every good and perfect gift.

Eloise is twelve days old today. Naturally, the past twelve days have been a mix of beauty, adjustment, re-entry, sleepiness, joy, challenge, and great blessing. We are acclimating to life as a family of four, and I, as a mama to two–two babes that God has entrusted to our care, and two who serve as an all day reminder of the responsibility God has placed on my life as a mother. I have never experienced a greater sense of calling, nor have I been more humbled by the way God has surrounded me with His presence and care.

For so long, I prayed over the details of my second labor and delivery, and for so long, I battled new fears and self doubt–all the while wanting desperately for God to be glorified in the process of His creation and design. Someday soon I’ll tell the story of all that God did to be present and to cover Eloise’s birth and my heart. For now, I’ll simply say that He is good, and that His love is palpable and accessible and wonderfully present these days. Ellie’s labor and delivery were just the very beginning of this humbling season…

I hardly know where to begin telling the post-birth chapter. We shared the news of our baby girl’s arrival, and love poured right on in from the very first minute. God has shown up in visits and prayers, in thoughtful gifts and wonderful, home-cooked meals. He has shown up in sweet, sweet times on our couch with dear friends as they meet Eloise, in overly-generous gestures of celebration and shared joy. He has been present in dishes washed, laundry done, vacuuming checked off the list. And most especially, He has cared for our hearts in the care of our sweet Henry. Family and friends have certainly not forgotten (and most definitely celebrated) H’s new, big brother status and the challenges that can come with such change. In turn, I have been blessed with the joy of watching our eldest enjoy others, and also with the gift of time for our new little one. Getting to know her with room enough to still snuggle our first munchkin has added peace to my heart.

I’ve learned a lot in twelve days, and I’ve had to realize over and over again that God’s overflow is something I can’t begin to measure. The cup and portion are simply too big. In the same ways that Henry has taught us so much about joy and laughter and discernment, I have a feeling that our new little lady has been delivered to us to teach us a new depth of love and a softness that our lives could all use. She brings with her a peaceful calm I can’t ignore. What gifts from The Lord!!

Before long, I’ll begin to write thank you notes and make a very feeble attempt to express our gratitude for all that God is doing through those around us. It will, no doubt, feel an insignificant gesture by comparison to the love we’ve witnessed these past few weeks. Even still, maybe God will doubly bless those who bless us. May it be so!

admiring God’s handiwork in the new life before me, and thanking Him over and over again for the gifts of love and friendship that have come along with ellie’s arrival,

one grateful mama

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worship. (6)

I suppose I didn’t figure I’d have so much time. Daily I envision going into labor, and then I tuck that vision down into the folds of the day and do my best to plan out a course of activities and distractions that will make the most of the unplanned time God is giving. When I really think about it, I’m grateful for all of the little moments I didn’t count on just to be safe. I’m thankful to hug H with his sibling still tucked in my belly. Thankful not to juggle car playing or story time or any of the rest of his routine with a new, new baby. I want this little one here with us so badly, and yet, there’s a lot of beauty in these waning days as mama to one.

I’ve shared this before and I’ll share it again, as it’s still on my heart this week…still part of the process for me with baby no. 2. My impatience has been a battle. I have to work hard at pressing into God regularly to summon what I need for strength. And maybe it sounds trite or silly, but what it comes down to is my desire to give this whole thing my best shot–to give these days my best self, and this pregnancy my best attitude, and this labor and delivery my best strength. In all of it, I’m also desperately wanting to honor God. I’ve wondered how I do that with moments of ingratitude or frustration filtering in. Today, it seems obvious.

This morning I woke up with an absolute craving to go to church. I’ve been thinking back to Easter morning the day my labor started with Henry, and I still remember being so grateful that God allowed me time to celebrate Christ’s death and resurrection that morning–amongst our church body and the beautiful worship setting that was created there that day. I was so refreshed by that space, and I know it prepared my heart for what God was bringing into our lives in the hours ahead. A posture of worship was exactly what I needed.

It turns out that a posture of worship is often what I need, and this morning proved no exception. As I lifted my voice to God today, everything else went silent. The troubles of the day, my apprehensions and worries. All I could feel was an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the life filling up my belly, for the God I serve who has provided this celebratory season, and for the gift to worship freely as loud as I could sing. I’m certainly more emotional these days than normal, but the tears that flowed as I sang were purely out of a place of unbelievable joy. I could have stayed in that space for hours.

This evening we attended outdoor baptism, and celebrated with over 40 people who made a public declaration of their faith as the perfect summer day blessed us with sunshine and blue skies and a cooling breeze. Coming together as a body of believers–to worship in song and through prayer and baptism, was the perfect way to extend this morning’s worship. It was also a great reminder again of how God surrounds us with His love in every moment. Even in the waiting and the expectant, impatient hope, there is so much peace just praising God for what He’s doing inside of me, who He has created, and how He has ordained the days of this baby’s life. I’m so blessed to cling steadfastly to this truth while I battle my selfish desires and honest discomforts.

I can’t help but think about how pregnancy (and a pregnant belly) is a great analogy for the truth we understand through scripture in 2 Corinthians 4.16-18, that “we do not lose heart. Thought outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Isn’t that a beautiful reality? And in this waiting stage of the game, I am leaning in so as to not lose heart. Why? Because this pregnancy gig is a light and momentary thing, and because the long term impact of this season can be so glorious in the long term. When I put down my human impatience and selfish desires to meet this baby ASAP, I can see all of the goodness that God is affording me with His timeline. Who would know better? God, or me? I think the answer is in the peace I find when I set my sights on Him…when I press in with all that I have to what He has for me. When I worship, unabashedly and enthusiastically and with sincere joy. There is so much more of a gift in the waiting than I could realize now. But in time…

praising all that is good and holy about this process. and trusting God.

mm

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in the waiting. (7)

I never expected to be this stir crazy. I am so taken with pregnancy and so much of what it entails, and I want to just love every last bit of it to pieces. Turns out I’m also really human. And I really, really want to meet this little person. The idea of seeing his or her face is fueling me forward and driving me nearly in circles. I think I ask God for peace and patience in every hour.

This morning was particularly hard for me. I woke up at 5:30a to a contraction, and they kept coming–every seven minutes, for two hours. I rested in bed, but my wheels were also turning. I’d tell J when he woke up. We’d have a slow morning with Henry. I wouldn’t have to wake anyone…I’d just call at a normal time of day to say that this was it–that things were in motion. I got up and started doing random things around the house that I suddenly wanted done. I was trying to strike a balance between being really excited and really practical. And then the contractions stopped.

Oh, the struggle I had for the next few hours, trying to figure out why this is my journey this time–nothing like the last time at all, and so much more like a tug of war for my heart. I’m wanting to have peace on everyone’s behalf, and instead, I’m here trying just to find some semblance of contentment while my mind swirls. What is with this newfound impatience? Where are all of my prayers going as I send them up? I know God hears and sees me, so what is the purpose in all of it?

Trust. I think it comes down to this very simple thing. God is saying to trust Him and His timing and His will for this baby’s entrance into the world. I also think God is asking me to quiet my heart in an otherwise noisy room. I thought I was good at this, and in seasons, I am. Right now, I feel like I’m attempting to learn the skill all over again.

I sat quietly on the couch this morning while the boys were still sleeping and prayed and read and tried to center myself on the thing I know. God is here and with me and has it all under control. I tried to exercise my ability to open up my hands and release the day, this week, my “due date,” the circumstances of this labor and delivery…all of it. And there were moments today when that happened. For this, I’m super grateful.

What’s working best is keeping somewhat busy and surrounding myself with lovely things and lovely people as I wait. And attempting to have a great deal more patience with myself than what I’m normally capable of. This is challenging with all of the tiredness and emotions in the mix, but I’m relying on God’s help to get to the right place. It’s probably when I do that this baby comes freely and without reservation. I pray that he or she will feel ushered into this world surrounded by a crazy amount of love and peace.

Tonight, I’ll go to bed tired and hopeful. Hopeful for a great new day tomorrow, for even more joy in the waiting, for grace to extend to myself and others. And tomorrow we’ll be one day closer to this little peanut and the newness of things again with a baby, fresh from Heaven, added to our lives.

it’s all worth the waiting, and i know that. i’m just having to relearn and relearn and relearn. 😉

breathing. deeply.

mm