The Newest Addition

When we were gearing up for Rowyn's birth at home, I was nervous. It was to be our maiden voyage into dangerous new territory, and it took me several months (and one movie) to adjust to the idea. Things went really well, dreamily even, so I had no objections to having our third baby at home; in fact, I have become a quiet advocate of at-home child birth, so good was our experience with Rowyn.

This delivery, while it went well, didn't go as smoothly as the previous one. Part of the reason for this is that the pregnancy in general was more challenging. Elizabeth was having heavier than normal contractions months too early. She had to be on partial bed rest for a while. Then the contractions stopped altogether, no Braxton Hicks contractions, nothing. As the delivery date drew nearer, the contractions started again. Several nights right around the baby's due date, Elizabeth would have regular contractions for a few hours. "This is it," she would think, and her adrenaline would rise. She would get up and start preparing for the baby or would just clean the kitchen or bathroom. One night, determined not to have another false start, she went for a walk at 3:00 a.m., striding alone along the gravel streets of our town hoping to get that baby out. But the contractions stopped.

She wouldn't have been all that anxious except that her parents, sister, and sister's three kids were coming, and, while she was very glad for them to come visit us, she didn't want to have the baby while they were here. Our house is very small and a home birth would have been rather uncomfortable for her with everyone there. If she didn't have the baby until after they were gone, it would have made the momentous visit sort of anti-climactic for them.

Her family left from Utah the morning of July 15th to come visit us. It is about a twelve hour drive. Elizabeth's contractions also started early that morning, but this time they didn't stop. At around nine in the morning, we loaded the kids into the stroller and walked around town, being sure to go up the steepest, longest hills we could find, starting with the one right next to our house. By the time we got near the top of that hill, Elizabeth's contractions were intense enough for her to have to stop and breathe through them before continuing. "I think it's working," she said. We kept walking for about an hour, going up that hill three more times, and then Elizabeth could tell labor was starting and it wasn't going to stop until she had the baby.

She called our midwife in Spokane and described her contractions and the midwife confirmed that the baby was on her way. Because the drive is so long from Spokane, she called a colleague in Moscow, Idaho to see if she could come over in case the baby came early.

Elizabeth had all the birth supplies neatly bundled and organized in boxes and bins in our closet. I popped a bag of soft towels into the oven to sterilize them and warm them for the baby. The contractions were pretty intense and painful now and I suggested that Elizabeth get in the hot tub. The problem was that it was mid July and a 98 degree hot tub doesn't sound very refreshing when it is 95 degrees and very sunny outside. I devised a sort of sun shade out of the hot tub cover to make the heat a little less intense and she climbed in. Even being as hot as it was, she said it was much, much better to have her contractions in the water.

A friend of ours who lives at the top of the same hill Elizabeth had been marching up earlier that day came down and got Rowyn and Sonora, who love going to her house. This was a relief, as it allowed me to focus solely on Elizabeth and allowed her to focus on having the baby. The midwife from Moscow arrived around the same time and checked in with Elizabeth, who was doing okay but feeling a little hot. She began standing up between contractions to cool off. Margaret, our midwife from Spokane, arrived a few minutes later and suggested we add some cold water to the hot tub, which was a good idea.

Soon, two more midwives in training arrived, so we had a grand total of four midwives on hand.

When Elizabeth got the urge to push, she climbed out of the hot tub and came inside, which was no small feat since her contractions were heavy, painful, and coming every two minutes. Just inside the front door, she had to kneel on the floor when one of them hit. We got her into the bedroom after that, and she labored the rest of the time in there.

Up to this point, things had been progressing well. Elizabeth was a little frightened because she hadn't done as much mental, emotional, or physical preparation as she had with the other two deliveries, and I think that as the pain increased, so did a nagging doubt that she was somehow not ready for this. To add to her fears, the baby was posterior and didn't seem to want to come out very quickly. "Is everything okay?" Elizabeth asked a few times in between pushing.

The baby's heartbeat was okay and things looked fine, though the baby seemed reluctant to make her exit. At times, I felt a little useless. Except for a brief stint lying on the bed, Elizabeth labored for the most part kneeling on the floor at the end of the bed while resting her upper body on the bed. The two midwives in training sat on the floor on either side of her while Margaret moved about coaching, examining, and guiding things. I stayed near Elizabeth's head. I asked her how I could help, but there wasn't much to do: a sip of water; a cold towel; a neck rub. With all the midwives and birth supplies scattered about, there wasn't a lot of room for me. Which was fine, because I'm not much of a birth expert, but I like to at least feel as if I'm contributing to the effort.

The pushing became more insistent and Elizabeth could feel the baby sort of crown with each push, but then when the contraction would end, the baby would retreat back in side her. This happened again and again. "Is everything okay?" She repeated. She was becoming anxious. Something didn't feel right.

Finally, the baby's head was out. "We've got a cord here." One of the midwives in training said.

"What's wrong?" Elizabeth asked.

"The cord's around the baby's neck." I was afraid. Cords around necks are not good.

But with another push and several pairs of nimble hands, the cord was unwrapped and the baby was out. She was fairly bloody, which hadn't been the case with the other two. Margaret said it was because the placenta had been so close to the cervix, which we had known all along.

Elizabeth, still knelling on the floor at the end of the bed, held our new baby to her bare chest for a few moments and then we cut the cord. The midwives wrapped up the baby in some of the warm towels and handed her to me while they attended to Elizabeth.

It's always a shock to see the color of a newly-born baby. That grayish-blue skin tone, though I know it's normal, causes me a little worry each time. She was crying--raspy, chokey, quiet, lamb-like--so I knew she was getting oxygen. Slowly, her body changed color, starting from her core and radiating outward. Her head was the last part of her to redden up. She looked kind of weird for a while with the bottom half of her face reddish and the top half bluish.

About this time, I gave her back to Elizabeth, who was sitting up at the head of the bed, her arms and legs trembling heavily. She took the baby in her arms and coaxed her to nurse. She didn't latch immediately, but soon she did, much to Elizabeth's relief. Although we knew the baby would be okay if she couldn't nurse right away, it is comforting to know right away that she will be able get the nourishment she needs to stay alive and grow.

She weighed eight pounds, four ounces, though she pooped out a whole bunch of meconium over the next hour, which probably brought her weight down a bit. The midwives finished up the examinations and the charting, cleaned up, drank some diet Coke, set up an appointment for the following day, and then left.

For me, this is the time when the home birth route is really great. We were already home. Elizabeth lay in bed. Our friend brought the girls home. I got some food ready. We proceeded at our own pace in our own home.

Elizabeth's family would be arriving in a few hours, so I finished getting their beds ready. When they called to report where they were, I didn't say anything about the birth. Elizabeth wanted to surprise them. They pulled in a little after 10:00 p.m., tired and disheveled. Had they touched Elizabeth's belly, they would have known something was up. Instead of feeling like a melon, it now felt like half-empty water balloon. But no one felt her belly. When they were near our bedroom, I said, "Come look at this; there is something in our room." I shined a dim flashlight at the spot on our bed where the baby was sleeping.

It took a second to register. "Oh my. Is that? The baby. You had the baby." Then they were laughing and hugging and congratulating Elizabeth and me.

The next few days, we hung out with the family. Mom Porter took over the kitchen and cooked everyone some great food. Dad Porter helped me dig though our flagstone patio to find the sewer cleanout, diagnose a problem with one of our cars, and get the refrigerator running more efficiently. Aleta and her kids kept our children well occupied. Elizabeth and I enjoyed their company as well as that of Amaya Juniper Lee, which is the name we settled on for our new baby.

It's been two and a half weeks since Amaya was born. Sonora, Rowyn, Amaya, Elizabeth, and I just went on an hour long walk. Elizabeth and I held hands and talked about what a pleasant postpartum experience we've had so far. Elizabeth is recovering well, and Amaya is growing strong and chubby. She's put on about a pound and a half. She is like Sonora in that she is very alert, constantly staring at stuff, already craning her neck to get a better view of whatever those dark little eyes are seeing. But she is also like Rowyn in that she sleeps pretty well. Except for a few feedings, she sleeps through the night, and takes about three naps throughout the day.

Rowyn and Sonora haven't shown any ill will toward her so far. They seem to like her when they remember she's there.

The timing of the birth was great. I had been finished with school for about two weeks, which allowed me some time to help prepare for the birth. Since then, I've been able to take Rowyn and Sonora most of the time and do a fair amount of house work and cooking. Actually, I haven't done much cooking because the people at our church provided us with so many dinners. Even though I was home and could have cooked, it was really nice to have people do this for us. Also, several days people have taken Sonora and Rowyn for the better part of the day, which allows Elizabeth and me to nap, clean up, or just recenter ourselves. We have really appreciated the help.

Now we are starting into the next phase. I'm hoping to finish this week the current set of revisions of the novel I'm working on. Sonora starts Kindergarten in three weeks. I'm going on a Scout campout in a week and a half. In a month and a half, school starts up again for me. Life and its demands are flooding back into our lives. But the last two and a half weeks have been very pleasant. In more ways than one, Amaya has brought new life to our family.

Bulging with Life

Elizabeth's Sister Vanessa came to visit yesterday and took some photos. Thank you Vanessa. You rock (by the way, I removed one of the photos on Elizabeth's request).

Barley's and Clover's Big Day

Sonora, Rowyn and I were watching a short stop-motion video on Youtube and decided to make one of our own. We spent the rest of Saturday morning on the project. It's about--you guessed it--unicorns. Here it is.

Oh, and Sonora lost her first tooth today. When I asked her if all that blood bothered her, she said, "It tasted pretty good." We may have a unicorn-loving vampire on our hands.

Pregnancy

Most any of who might still be checking this blog likely know that we are pregnant and that our little fetus is of the feminine persuasion. So we'll have three girls, a small pack of sisters, which should fit comfortably into our extended family dynamics: Elizabeth has seven sisters and I have four. In both our families, sisterness is something special, at least it is most of the time.

So our current tasks concerning the pregnancy are: find a name for the baby, and keep the baby inside until it is fully developed. We still haven't settled on a name, and we are developing a bad track record in this regard. It took us until a week after she was born to finally arrive at Rowyn's name. But worrying about baby names has been slowly supplanted in Elizabeth's mind by worrying about all the strong contractions she's been having. Painful, frequent ones. Any time she stands up. And she still has two months to go. Bed rest isn't her thing (not that it's anybody's thing), and she and I are both hoping that this is just a phase of uterus-strengthening exercises, but it might be more than that. Time (and communication with our midwife) will tell.

Well, I hope to write more on this blog than I have the last year or so. Perhaps the new baby will provide the impetus. I've been working on a novel, and that is where most of my writing time, what little I have, has been spent of late.

Winter Break

So, Winter Break was kind of a whirlwind for us this time around.


At the beginning of the break, one of our cars broke down. It still isn't fixed. The mechanics think that the computer is bad, but they can't be sure. No junk yard in the whole nation (as far as they can tell) has a used computer for this car. A new computer costs about $500. 2009 turned out to be a very expensive year for us (several car repairs, broken collar bone, tonsillectomy, dental work, new roof on the garage, my trip to Europe, many visits to the doctor by everyone in the family, etc.), and $500 is more than we have extra. So, we are trying to decide what to do about that. We could get a small loan and buy a used car. We're going to need to buy a car any way before the baby arrives in July, a car that will fit three car seats (our old Nissan Sentra only has room for two), so we may just bite the bullet and buy another car earlier than we had hoped. The only problems with this plan are that we had hoped to sell the Sentra and keep the car that broke down. It is much more versatile and useful than the Sentra. And we really don't like the idea of a loan. For now, I'm riding my bike to and from work while the weather is mild. It's about 17 miles round trip, and most of the way I have a wide shoulder or a paved path to ride on.


We also had a pipe break. In mid December, the temperature dropped to around zero for several nights in a row. Then it warmed up above freezing for several days in a row. One morning, we lost most of our water pressure, and, after some investigation, found that a little river of water was running up from between several cracks in the flagstone patio in front of our house. I shut off the water at the street, pried up some rocks, and started digging. I won't go into details, because it really would be boring to read, but I spent about ten hours digging in heavy, sticky mud. It took me a while to find the pipe, which meant I tore up much more of the patio than I needed to. After I found it, I repaired the pipe, only to throw a shovel full of dirt (and a rock) on it, only to have the hidden rock snap the pipe in two again. When everything was finally repaired, I filled the hole back in with mud and tried my best to reassemble the stones and mortar. But there will be a large, uneven area in front of our front door until the summer heat dries out the ground and I can re-set the stones.


Not too long after that, we raced up to spend a day in Spokane with Elizabeth's sister and her family. Their house, in stark contrast to ours, is large and uncluttered. The kids sort of disappear into various rooms, and the adults can talk, which is quite refreshing. And it is always fun hanging out with Vanessa, Corey, and their kids. We had a gift exchange which I always both look forward to and dread. I look forward to it because they always give us a whole bunch of great gifts. I dread it because Elizabeth and I have to think for a long time to come up with a gift for them that they might like, and we usually end up giving them one or two gifts that, in comparison to what they give us, seem so underwhelming.


Our stay with them was short because that night, my oldest sister and her two teenage twin boys, along with my oldest brother, two of his teenage kids, and my dad, came to spend Christmas with us. Everyone except my dad drove up from Phoenix. They picked up my dad in Burley, Idaho. They stayed for a few days, and it was really fun having them here. We went sledding, walking, snipe hunting, and driving around looking at Christmas lights. The teenagers drove the little lawn tractor all over the yard and the neighborhood pulling each other in the little trailer. They also fired up the chainsaw and cut up some old limbs that we used to build a fire with. Sonora really enjoyed spending time with her Aunt Kristinia and cousin Sirrina, who became sort of surrogate mothers to her (Elizabeth was sort of missing in action most of the time due to her nearly constant pregnancy nausea). My dad, brother and I spent a lot of time bonding in the kitchen cooking together. And all of us hung out together to talk, watch movies, open gifts, and eat. It was really enjoyable to be with them.




However, the evening before they were to leave to visit my sister in Richland, Washington, our sewer backed up. And I mean backed up. Be glad I didn't take any pictures of the contents of the bathtub. After I churned up the sewage in my vain attempts to plunge loose the obstruction, it looked as if 25 people had hung their backsides over the edge of the tub and relieved themselves of a whole gut full of diarrhea. This made the bath tub and the whole house rather fragrant. We had new rules that night: No one may use the toilet; No one may run any water down any drain; and of course No one may shower (not that anyone would have wanted to). The plants got an extra portion of urine that night. And the next morning, my family members left rather expeditiously. I feel sort of sorry for the toilet of whatever gas station they first stopped at. In my quest to unplug the sewer line, I plunged and plunged, I bought a sewer snake and, after removing the toilet to better access to the pipes, tried unsuccessfully to make it reach the clog, I wormed around on my belly under the house and covered myself in dust and insulation trying to knock the clean out valve loose (though I'm sort of glad it didn't budge because I wouldn't have been able to move out of the way of the sewage that would have gushed out all over my arms, face, and body). Finally, I called Roto Rooter. The guy didn't think he'd be able to get to the clog, not without an exterior clean out valve ("And there's no way I'm going into that tiny crawl space to get to the clean out under the house"). But he tried for a while and, miracle of miracles, he knocked the blockage loose. We shelled out about $300 for his services on the night after Christmas, but at that point, $300 seemed a meager amount to pay for a functional sewer.

A few days later, I went camping with the Scouts for two day, and then a few days after that, school started again. It wasn't a particularly relaxing Christmas break, but it was a memorable one.


Just for fun, I've pasted below a little video Sonora and I made over the break. It's very silly and intentionally campy. So we did have some time to just mess around.