Molly

It’s been over two months, and even now, I’m not sure where to begin.  My husband, however, was able to write down his perspective within 48 hours (over-achiever).  You see, our daughter, Molly, was born in a unique and surprising way…

 

To understand fully, I need to start with my first pregnancy:  I nearly miscarried my son, Liam, at 21 weeks due to an “incompetent cervix” and had to have an emergency cerclage in order to keep him inside.  He stuck around for another 14 & 1/2 weeks but then decided he wanted to go ahead and come out ahead of schedule.  He was born on the the 9th of September, 2009. It was a fast labor, 3 hours, no medication or intervention.  He spent fifteen days in the NICU.  That was tough, but so was my son.  His name, “Liam” is the Irish derivative of “William” which comes from the German “Wilhelm” which means literally “to wear a helmet”.  “Liam” is a warrior.  He has always been a fighter, and as he enters his toddler years, he means to prove it to me everyday.

 

 

I wasn’t fully prepared to learn what a warrior princess I would give birth to just two years later.  This second time ’round, the doctors stitched me up early at 14 weeks.  We knew we were having a girl, and after much consideration we decided to name her “Molly Adeline”.  “Molly” is the Celtic derivative of “Mary”, and “Adeline” means “tenderness, gentleness”… to reflect the feminine aspects of God.  At 36 weeks, the stitches were removed, and I was expected to go into labor any time after that.  The doctor said that I immediately dilated to 4cm and was already 80% effaced as soon as he cut the stitches– I thought I might go into labor that very day!  But I didn’t.

A few days passed, I went back to my Ob-gyn, she checked me: no change.  Another WEEK passed, and I returned to my Ob (she was very surprised to see me!): still, no change.  She sent me away saying she wouldn’t expect me to make it through the weekend, but, if I did, to come and see her.  I was now 37 & 1/2 weeks along.

That weekend, I got BUSY!  I went to an outdoor event at the park with friends, we went to IKEA and wandered around for quite a while, and I even attempted some waaaaay-pregnant intimacy to try and get things moving along.  After all that, other than a few clusters of mild contractions, nothing.  By Monday, October 3rd, I was in tears, frustrated and telling my husband that I was ready but my body was only doing these wimpy little fake contractions.  I knew I would need to call my Ob in the morning and schedule an appointment– I was very disappointed.

It was in the early morning hours of October 4th that I awoke at 3am to some mild cramping/contractions that were bothersome enough to wake me but nothing strong enough to make me think I might be in labor.  I got up to get some water, laid down in bed and began reading some e-mails.  After about 15 minutes of these “cramps”, I decided to google “how to know when you’re in labor”– with my son, my water sprung a slow leak and off we went to the hospital without any contractions occurring– just to get an idea.  I didn’t want to dawdle if I happened to be in labor– my Ob had encouraged me to be fast in getting to the hospital since I was already so dilated and had such a fast labor with my first child.

@ 3:20am, I had a contraction.  A REAL one.  Thomas was asleep, and I didn’t want to wake him til I had another contraction so that I could know how close together they were, if this was really it.

@ 3:25am, I had a second, strong contraction.  Only 5 minutes between them, and the second was quite a bit stronger than the first.  I awoke Thomas and told him to call my parents, get Liam, grab our things and load up into the car.  I set myself the task of simply getting dressed and getting myself to the car.

@ 3:30 – 3:40am, I was only able to get up for about 30 seconds at a time.  The contractions were coming FAST, every minute or so.  It was like I was instantaneously in Transition, and I could hardly catch my breath.  Thomas came to check in on me at one point and found me on the bed– I had only managed to get my pajamas off and my undergarments on.  He gently touched my shoulder and urged me to get moving so we could get to the hospital, everything was ready to go.  I think I yelled at him not to touch me and buried my face in a pillow to stifle my screams (I was worried about frightening Liam, so that pillow was my consort for most of this ordeal).  Just as soon as I began coming down from that contraction, I got up, slipped a dress over my head, slipped on my sandals, grabbed my purse and started heading out of the bedroom down the hall, fearing I felt another contraction already beginning.

@ 3:40am , as I reached the end of our very short hallway, the contraction that I had feared came with full force: the baby dropped, and I had to push. (In my head, I was just hearing “Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God… I have to PUSH! I have to PUSH?! Oh no, Oh no….)  I dropped whatever I had in my hands and ran to the bathroom whilst telling my husband to call an ambulance.  I got to the toilet, he was staring at me a little frightened and surprised.  I reiterated, “I’m serious– call 911″, and off he went to get Liam out of the car and back inside– he knew we weren’t making it to the hospital.

@ 3:40-3:43am , I was alone in my bathroom, on the toilet, afraid… I was praying and crying out to God, though words escaped me.  I felt a strong contraction and pushed.  With this, my first push, my water burst; it was shocking, I was surprised, I was afraid.  Once I got my whits about me, I realized that the baby was crowning, I looked down and touched the top of her head– somewhere in my mind I thought “she has a lot of hair” — I yelled out to Thomas (who was on the phone with the 911 operator) that the baby was crowning, but I knew it was more than that:  she was about to be born, and I had to do it alone.  With clarity and calm, as I felt another wave come over me, I stood up from the safety of the toilet (I had the thought: you don’t want her to slip out of your hands and fall into the toilet! Stand up! NOW!!), reached down to touch my baby’s head so I could guide her safely into my hands, and pushed.

@ 3:45am , I caught my darling little baby girl in my arms.  She was beautiful, plump and pretty. For a few, brief seconds, it was just the two of us.  Thomas came around the corner to find me there, holding our baby in the middle of our bathroom.  Without thinking, I immediately sat down in the bathtub, turned on the warm water and began to wipe her off.  She wasn’t making any noises and didn’t appear to be breathing.  I opened up her mouth and felt around– there didn’t to be anything obstructing her airway that I could feel, nor was there any dark amniotic fluid.  With the coaching of the 911 operator via speaker phone, Thomas gave our little newborn daughter CPR… mouth-to-face (because it’s not mouth-to-mouth when the giver’s mouth is as big as the receiver’s face) and chest compressions.  He was so nervous that he would hurt her.  I was very calm.  Whenever Thomas breathed into her lungs, I could hear the gurgle and rattle of fluid that hadn’t been squeezed out during her birth– she had come so fast, it’s not surprising she still had gunk in her lungs.  Also, she was still attached to me via the umbilical cord (I had not yet passed the placenta).  My hope was that, perhaps, she might still be getting oxygen from there, and so I had not made any attempt to tie off the cord.

7 minutes.  That’s how long it took for EMS to arrive at our home.  For Thomas, it was an eternity.  For me, oddly enough, it just kind of floated by.  I was serious and focused, but I was not distressed.  Even as Molly started becoming more and more purple and less pink, I felt calm.  I knew that she would be alright.

And she was.

After EMS arrived, they started breathing for her, got her oxygen levels back up and her color returned.  I was taken to the ambulance and then waited there while they took the gurney away to go and fetch Molly– we would be riding together to the hospital.  As I waited, quite in shock as to what just happened, there was a fireman sitting beside me who was there simply to stay with me and keep an eye on me.  I asked him how long he’d been a fireman; he responded “over 20 years…. this is a first for me”.  I chuckled and told him I was honored.  I looked out the back doors of the ambulance to see my sister, Ellen, had arrived; she was holding Liam in her arms.  I felt to comforted to see her and so glad to see Liam– he was thrilled about all the lights!  Ellen had a smile on her face and told me “good job!”… she was so proud of me.  I felt strong and happy, though pride wasn’t really something that I felt.  There was something more, something that had nothing to do with me and everything to do with God… how he made me, how he took care of me and Molly, how he had shown mercy to us in this situation….

Molly had to be taken to the NICU (protocol since she had initially had difficulty breathing), and Thomas and I were eventually settled into one of Seton’s Mother/Baby rooms (Oddly enough, the two times I’ve been in one of their Mother/Baby rooms, I’ve not ever gotten to have my baby there with me).  After visiting with family and friends off and on all day, Thomas and I were finally alone that evening.  We hadn’t yet gotten to talk about what had happened.  We needed each other to help understand, to unpack, to process it all.  In some ways, we are still processing even now.  It was during this talk that we decided that, while we love the name “Adeline”, Molly’s middle name would instead be “Clementine” in light of all that happened.  “Clementine” means merciful, full of mercy.

God is good, and he is indeed merciful.

Does your hair really fall out? Really?

The stress and strain of life has led people to believe that your hair will fall out if you don’t keep it under control.  While there has been some research to say that immense trauma can turn hair white or fall out completely, it’s certainly the exception and not the rule.

That being said, i feel that the next month will be one of possible hair-loss.  I’ve never been adept at handling stress, and I feel that has a lot to do with my maturity.  I honestly believe that if i were had more faith in God’s grace and fidelity, i would not stress the troubles of this world.  Seriously.  If i really believed that God is good, that He is faithful, that he longs to be gracious to me, then what would i have to worry about?

But i do worry.  I worry quite a lot.  I perhaps should ask for prayer regarding this.  I should pray, myself.

This month the last push to complete my placements for my job.  I’ve never done this before, but i feel like this work is a great fit for me.  As a recovering perfectionist, i find it excruciating not to be “perfect” and “know everything” in and about my job.  This struggle bleeds into every aspect of my life.  So, perhaps it is not that I don’t handle stress well or that I don’t trust God, but that I really believe that if only i could get CONTROL of all of this, then it would all work out okay…

Funny thing about control: it’s a mirage.  A facade.  Like a gold-leaf over-lay, there’s just not that much there.  And yet i keep striving to attain this control.  Perhaps it goes all the way back to original sin– believing that we could be like God, knowing all things = having power = having control.

So many lies, so little time.  I find all of this eye-opening.  I am curious to see how this realization will grow into a practice.

Head Full of Doubt, Road Full of Promise

“There’s a darkness upon me that’s flooded in light
In the fine print they tell me what’s wrong and what’s right
And it comes in black and it comes in white
And I’m frightened by those that don’t see it

When nothing is owed or deserved or expected
And your life doesn’t change by the man that’s elected
If you’re loved by someone, you’re never rejected
Decide what to be and go be it

There was a dream and one day I could see it
Like a bird in a cage I broke in and demanded that somebody free it
And there was a kid with a head full of doubt
So I’ll scream til I die and the last of those bad thoughts are finally out

There’s a darkness upon you that’s flooded in light
And in the fine print they tell you what’s wrong and what’s right
And it flies by day and it flies by night
And I’m frightened by those that don’t see it

There was a dream and one day I could see it
Like a bird in a cage I broke in and demanded that somebody free it
And there was a kid with a head full of doubt
So I’ll scream til I die and the last of those bad thoughts are finally out

There was a dream and one day I could see it
Like a bird in a cage I broke in and demanded that somebody free it
And there was a kid with a head full of doubt
So I’ll scream til I die and the last of those bad thoughts are finally out

There’s a darkness upon me that’s flooded in light
In the fine print they tell me what’s wrong and what’s right
There’s a darkness upon me that’s flooded in light
And I’m frightened by those that don’t see it”

The Avett Brothers

Death Be Not Proud

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think’st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell’st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

~ John Donne

—

i was shocked to learn that one of my neighbors committed suicide.

he had been laid off from his job and hadn’t told anyone– not even his wife of 11 years.  i saw the cars coming to the house, solemn people dressed in dark, conservative clothing, and i thought that perhaps someone had died.  Maybe i should go by and see if they need anything, i thought.  but i hadn’t done it yet.  two weeks pass, a moving van comes to the house next door, and then the items are put out in the yard for sale.  i took Liam with me, and we went by to say hello.  that’s when we found out why the wife was moving, just the wife.

i felt sick.  i felt heavy.  i felt helpless.

For those of us who have the hope of Life, we grieve for those we loose– even Christ wept for Lazuras. It hurts when people we love die. This is part of what it means to be human.  We die. We grieve. We hurt.  But for those who know Christ, we know that Death does not get the final word.

But what do we say to those who grieve with no hope?  Those who don’t believe in God, or Christ, or resurrection?   What, other than grieve with them, do we do?  How do we love on and best encourage those who are without hope?  What about when Death did have the last word in someone’s life?

How sorrowful we should feel.  How righteously angry we might be.  How much we should strive to show Hope and Life to everyone we come in contact… even when life hurts (because it does hurt), as Christians, we must remember that we have Life, and Hope, and we must be the Light in this dark and death-filled world.

On the subject of sick

over the past month, it’s become painfully obvious just how much our physical health affects not only our emotional health, but vice-versa.

my family and i have been struggling with some form of illness for the past several weeks, and it’s taken a toll on our relationships, not to mention our sleep schedules.  when we’re tired, worn out, sick, beaten down, we are all the more in need of unity and support… and all the more vulnerable to stress and strife.  what should bring us together, unfortunately, has the the capability to tear us apart.  has it always been this way?  i think so.

and not to be lost in all of this is the idea that our soul-sickness, the state of our spirits as they fester from old wounds, can contribute as much to our ailments of the body and heart as anything else– possibly more.  my old wounds that i thought i had worked on (some of them healed) just opened up like a festering wound to trip me and land me backsliding into despair.  i thought i had changed! i have cried out to God. i thought this was taken care of, but look at me…

there is a passage in asong called Before the Throne of God that my sister, Ellen, and i have often reminded each other of–

When Satan tempts me to despair

and tells me of the guilt within,

upward I look and see Him there

who made an end to all my sin.

When Christ sacrificed himself and finally said, “It is finished”, i believe He meant just that– it HAS BEEN ABSOLVED. not that, with a lot of hard work and penance, i’ll be healed and forgiven of my backsliding and despair, forgiven my sin.  it IS finished.  my pain and sorrow, my guilt and sin, has ALREADY BEEN absolved.  i AM NOT who i used to be, even if i struggle in my flesh.  Satan would love to have me believe that what Christ did was, in some way, not sufficient to cover my failings. what a lie.

In Christ alone, my hope is found….

No guilt in life, no fear in death,
This is the power of Christ in me;
From life’s first cry to final breath.
Jesus commands my destiny.
No power of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home,
Here in the power of Christ I’ll stand.

Talkin’ bout my vaccinations

my friend, Jenni,  recently wrote me to ask my opinion on vaccinations.  my husband, Thomas, and i had recently decided to give our 6-month-old son his first vaccination, and so my brain was already ripe with thoughts for the picking…

Hello world!

my husband, Thomas, read to me while i was sick not too long ago.

the book he chose to read from was Dreaming in Code, and it just so happens that the chapter he read from explained the significance of the “Hello world” salutation.  whenever a programer first learns how to write in a new language of code, they begin with that simple statement.  i find it only fitting to keep the heading intact now that i am beginning my own journey into a new world with a new language: marriage and motherhood.