This was me, two days before Holland was born. I am reminded this afternoon of 2 Peter 3:8...
But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.
Every day of the last month of the pregnancy was a day that lasted a thousand years. And every day of the first month of her life has flown by like a thousand years in just a moment (quite literally it has felt like one continuous day with a few short naps here and there).
No matter how I tried to talk myself out of getting the end of pregnancy crazies, I just couldn't stop it. At 34 weeks I was 2 cm dilated, and I progressed approximately a centimeter a week until I camped out at 6 cm from weeks 37-38. At my 38 week check, my doctor offered to strip my membranes at week 39 and then started asking me what I wanted to do if I still hadn't gone into labor. Did I want to induce?
My mom arrived that Monday. For two full days we packed in all the preparation and fun activity that we could with all three kids. We hit Costco, Target, the park, pedicures, house cleaning, and coffee time galore all in one crazy swoop. On Wednesday morning I went back to the doctor, still at 6 cm, he stripped the membranes and sent me on my way. I called my mom as I left the office. She encouraged me to take the day alone. She told me to come home for dinner, but to have a final morning and afternoon all to myself, since it could be my last for a long, long, long time. So, I ran a few quick errands and then went to the park.
It was a cool day, but nice sun breaks and no wind. I grabbed my phone, equipped with a sermon from my brother that I had been waiting to listen to, and started walking. It felt so good to get the fresh air, get into a good walking groove, and just release the tension. I listened to the sermon, and then just let my mind and heart turn to conversation with God. I walked for almost 3 hours.
I went home, we had dinner, we put the kids to bed, I went to bed. I was discouraged. Stripped membranes and 3 hours of walking and my contractions were the same as they had been all the other nights of the past 2 weeks. And then I woke up.
It was 11:30. I was in the middle of a super hard contraction. I knew I had a choice. I can try to go back to sleep and attempt a "Trey-like" delivery where I wake up and rush to the hospital (also risking going back to sleep and labor stopping), or I can get up and help this baby get moving and keep track of what is going on. I chose option 2, got up and took a long, hot shower. I didn't want to wake anyone in the house, so I put on my shoes and jacket and went outside. It was the midnight version of my day time walk. The moon was bright, the air was crisp, and my phone was ready with another sermon and a play list of worship music. I walked, listened to Shad speak beautifully about Humility, and prayed. Then I started my worship music and sang my heart out. I was having some hard contractions, but they were inconsistent. Ten minutes apart, then 3 minutes but not as hard, then 20 minutes. I just kept walking and singing and praying and timing.
At 2:30 am I went inside for a snack and some water. My mom came down to go to the bathroom. She asked for an update, and we stood in the kitchen, feeling Holland pushing, rolling, stretching, kicking and doing everything she could from her end to help me out. Mom offered to walk with me for a while. So we both bundled up and set out. We talked about when she was in labor with her kids, the deliveries she had, how dad was involved, the doctors she had, and how she felt during all of the leading up to the baby being born. By the end of our walk my contractions were closer together and moving from my abdomen to my lower back. She urged me to get Jordan and get to the hospital. I was very reluctant. I did not want to get there, have things slow down, and have to be stuck in bed for hours waiting for the baby to come while I am hooked up to the monitors. I wanted to walk, to feel everything, to know...to be in control. Also, I was being taunted by the week before when I had gone in to the hospital at 2 am and made Lisa come and get my kids, only to be sent home in false labor. But, mothers know best, they truly do. I got Jordan up and with hugs and kisses from my mom, we went. I refused to go straight to the hospital. We drove around for a while, got Jordan breakfast at 4 am at Jack in the Box, and kept timing contractions. All of a sudden they started to get serious, 10 minutes, 8 minutes, 6 minutes, 4 minutes...we drove back to the hospital.
When we checked in at 4:45 the nurse came in to see my progress. I was 7 cm. Although I was surprised that I wasn't an 8 or a 9, I could feel that my contractions were coming faster and that things were going to be intense soon. They moved us to a delivery room and let me stand next to the bed while the nurse hooked me up to the monitor. I was hoping to get hooked up and then get put on a mobile unit so I could keep walking. At 5:05 am, my water broke. Instantly the contractions intensified and began coming one right after the other. The nurse was encouraging me to breathe through them she continued to work to get me hooked up. Almost right away I started feeling like I needed to push. Another check showed I was at 9.5 cm, so she reminded me to hold off on pushing until I was fully dilated...then she started paging the doctor.
When the midwife came in, I was fully immersed in severe contractions. The monitor started showing that the baby was in distress and the doctor and nurse asked me to get on the bed and lay on my side. Jordan helped me, but I was so ready to push I couldn't get onto my side. Due to the baby's dropping heart rate, the doctor instructed me to go ahead and start pushing.
One very long and very tough push and she was out. The chord had been wrapped around her neck and she was completely blue and silent. They placed her on my chest and her arm flopped over against me, lifeless. All of a sudden there were three nurses next to me, rubbing, flicking toes, encouraging her to breathe.
Finally she began to cough, sputter and eventually cry. We kept rubbing and talking to our little Holland girl. She squirmed and stretched and nuzzled and found her fist. I was experiencing all that I had been feeling during the pregnancy... without the visual barrier. I smiled at her and snuggled her right back, feeling like we already knew each other.
Physically, the post delivery was excruciating. Getting out of the delivery room and into our recovery room was like being evacuated from a natural disaster. It was the first time I got a chance to really look at her, take a few deep breaths myself, and that Jordan and I got a moment to process everything.
At the beginning of the pregnancy I remember wondering what it would be like on the fourth time...would I just be used to it, expecting things, unimpressed? Instead, I feel like there was an even deeper awareness of the miracle of life. There was a desire to savor each moment even more. An ability to be less concerned with my physical self and more enthralled by the baby.
We spent that afternoon filling everyone in on details, seeing the big kids, and going through all the checks and monitors with the doctors and nurses. By the next day, we were ready to rest and recover. Jordan had to stop at the office and then went to the house to help my mom with the kids. I stayed off my computer, off my phone, and plugged in to resting and snuggling. The nurses gave me the benefit of the doubt with caring for her, knowing it was our fourth and that she was at such a healthy weight. They really let us be as often as they could. My mom came at lunch time to hang out with Holland while I showered and ate. We didn't even talk very much, just admired her and experienced the miraculous gift of three generations of girls in the room. The day was beautiful and sunny, light filled the room and I hummed worship songs to her. The extra day of being in bed tremendously helped me in getting back on my feet faster. I will remember and treasure the sweetness of that day every time I think of her birthday.
Holland surprised me with such light hair and such a beautiful complexion and color. She was about the size I suspected her to be, and if I would have had to put money down on a gender I would have picked a girl :) Jewel was beyond thrilled to have a baby sister, and the boys immediately felt a tenderness and concern for her.
Little Holland Pearl, you are greatly loved, treasured and celebrated. You are the sweetest little cherry on top of our little family. Thank you, Lord for all of your provision and protection and intention in her arrival. We are blessed.
When the midwife came in, I was fully immersed in severe contractions. The monitor started showing that the baby was in distress and the doctor and nurse asked me to get on the bed and lay on my side. Jordan helped me, but I was so ready to push I couldn't get onto my side. Due to the baby's dropping heart rate, the doctor instructed me to go ahead and start pushing.
One very long and very tough push and she was out. The chord had been wrapped around her neck and she was completely blue and silent. They placed her on my chest and her arm flopped over against me, lifeless. All of a sudden there were three nurses next to me, rubbing, flicking toes, encouraging her to breathe.
Finally she began to cough, sputter and eventually cry. We kept rubbing and talking to our little Holland girl. She squirmed and stretched and nuzzled and found her fist. I was experiencing all that I had been feeling during the pregnancy... without the visual barrier. I smiled at her and snuggled her right back, feeling like we already knew each other.
Physically, the post delivery was excruciating. Getting out of the delivery room and into our recovery room was like being evacuated from a natural disaster. It was the first time I got a chance to really look at her, take a few deep breaths myself, and that Jordan and I got a moment to process everything.
At the beginning of the pregnancy I remember wondering what it would be like on the fourth time...would I just be used to it, expecting things, unimpressed? Instead, I feel like there was an even deeper awareness of the miracle of life. There was a desire to savor each moment even more. An ability to be less concerned with my physical self and more enthralled by the baby.
We spent that afternoon filling everyone in on details, seeing the big kids, and going through all the checks and monitors with the doctors and nurses. By the next day, we were ready to rest and recover. Jordan had to stop at the office and then went to the house to help my mom with the kids. I stayed off my computer, off my phone, and plugged in to resting and snuggling. The nurses gave me the benefit of the doubt with caring for her, knowing it was our fourth and that she was at such a healthy weight. They really let us be as often as they could. My mom came at lunch time to hang out with Holland while I showered and ate. We didn't even talk very much, just admired her and experienced the miraculous gift of three generations of girls in the room. The day was beautiful and sunny, light filled the room and I hummed worship songs to her. The extra day of being in bed tremendously helped me in getting back on my feet faster. I will remember and treasure the sweetness of that day every time I think of her birthday.
Holland surprised me with such light hair and such a beautiful complexion and color. She was about the size I suspected her to be, and if I would have had to put money down on a gender I would have picked a girl :) Jewel was beyond thrilled to have a baby sister, and the boys immediately felt a tenderness and concern for her.
Little Holland Pearl, you are greatly loved, treasured and celebrated. You are the sweetest little cherry on top of our little family. Thank you, Lord for all of your provision and protection and intention in her arrival. We are blessed.
Holland Pearl Bury
Dr. Gary Hoffman, my OB, coming to visit us after she was born. A fantastic doctor with whom I was greatly blessed through the three pregnancies.
After her first bath, getting her hair wrapped in a towel :)
Then getting to snuggle with Dad for the first time.
My first photo with my baby doll.
Working hard to get a thumb free!
Dad and Beppe taking turns checking her out and getting to know her while she works on getting to know them.
Our first family photo. Proud mom and dad.
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