It's Just... Different

I have noticed a strange thing. Our little Frederick has made me feel like someone is missing even more keenly than I did before. Before his birth, I looked at my little family and things had looked unchanged. This last year mirrored the one before. I lived in maternity clothing for months unending. Phineas was gone. I knew that. My heart ached for him constantly, but it was hard to remember that he really was mine.

Our daughters were growing up and I was very used to being the mother of the two little girls. Things seemed almost settled in that way. Despite being pregnant again. I wasn't entirely expecting to have another.

Our baby is here now and I am so happy about it. He fits in perfectly. It does, however, make the space that Phineas would fill much more visible. I have a nearly 4 year gap between Cordelia and Frederick. There is a step missing in our little stair step family. Also, when people comment that I "now have three" I feel more apt to correct them. It is really four. Four children. Three living. One dead. That is my reality. It is okay but not okay. I accept that now. Four children that are mine but only one I cannot hold.

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Just Around the Bend

Thursday. Thursday it will be a year. A year since Phineas's disastrous birth, miraculous life and all too early death. My heart is pulled so tightly in many directions. I am holding his little brother in my arms. His brother who has already lived twice as long as he did. He is changing so much everyday. I have seen glimpses of Phineas in him from time to time, but he has already grown past him. He has brought so much joy into our lives. I feel so much gratitude for this last year. I miss Phineas so terribly, but I am glad that we had him for the short time we did.

It is such a mix of emotions. Bittersweet in the truest sense. I am now pondering what to do in his day. I want to commemorate but not confuse the girls and remember him without awkwardness as my mother is here.

I wish he were here to eat his cake. I love you, sweet boy.

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Don't Know What To Think

Several months ago, a woman I had been on a forum with for several years was having a baby. It was a girl, but she had list of "just in case" names for boys. Phineas John was one of them. She had lost her son, a stillbirth, a few years before. I thought she was aware of my story and my son's name. Maybe she just didn't pay much attention. It hurt, though. Nate told me how silly I was being about it, but I remained resentful, a fact I am a bit ashamed to admit. The baby was born, it was a girl as expected, but she was the "almost" woman.

Today I found out that I inadvertently became that woman, the one who named a baby the same name as another lost baby. I felt and still feel sick about it. I found this fellow BLM from a fairly well known loss forum where I rarely post but often read. She is more active there so I feel like I should just bow out altogether because I am the witch who stole a dead baby's name.

I can honestly say I did not know this baby's full name. Frederick was a name that we had considered long before and might have used had Phineas not been Phineas. It was a name to honor all of the Freds in my husband's family, and there are many. It was a name I had dreamt about this baby being named. His middle name was one that I hadn't completely wanted, but it was important to Nate and it actually fits better than I thought it would. I feel like it suits him.

I don't know why I feel the need to justify this choice so much. I have long felt that the names of babies that have died hold a special sacred spot in the universe. But then, the name was so right for our little boy. It is hard to reconcile the two, indeed.

It may seem all so strange to outsiders, but I have committed a babyloss taboo. I don't know, I may just end up deleting this post.

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Birth Story Part 3: Reflections

I am not s superstitious person. I don't really believe in fate. I do, however, believe that some things are meant to be. I also believe in what some would call providence, or serendipity. He was not born the day that I had hoped for. I know it was really silly, but I felt like I had to have some closure of some sort. The dates just lined up.

But of course, he picked his own birthday which just turned out to be his cousin's first birthday. Yes, I had a nephew born three weeks before the start of Phineas's short life. I was jealous. jealous that he lived and my son died. Now, though, I feel so much more acceptance and maybe them sharing a birthday puts it all in perspective. It doesn't really matter.

My midwives and I (though I talked about it with others as well) talked about the old rhyme about the days of the week when babies are born. My first three were born on Wednesday. Perhaps it is a little appropriate that "Wednesday's child is full of woe". Hopefully it is also appropriate that my little Thursday child "has far to go". I joked that it must have been my long labor, but I also hope that he will go far and stick around in this life for a good long while.

As for the reason why I chose another home birth after our experience with Phineas: it felt right. That is the most succinct way to put it. Maybe it helped me to accept what happened or to know that it doesn't always end that way. I am glad I chose it. I was afraid, I struggled a great deal with, but it forced me to trust in God. Trust that whatever happened would be his will, that I am not really in control of life and death. I am grateful for this. It has enriched my testimony of prayer and of the power of God.

It was also great to have everything come full circle. The same two midwives who were there to experience the roller coaster of Phineas's birth were also there to experience his brother's birth. I truly believe it healed a little of all of us there.

And our little Fred, well, he is wonderful. The high from this birth is still going strong. I feel even more fierce love for him and all of my children. How precious they are. I look at this new little person and see reflections of all of his siblings, even Phineas. I wonder who he will be. We are all so excited to find out.

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Birth Story Part 2: Thursday's Child

Thursday. 2 am. A mere three hours of rest! I woke up to contractions like crazy. For about an hour, I had them every 4-6 minutes. Of course, I panicked. Not wanting to be having a baby before the midwife arrived, I called K at about 3:15. Apparently, she had jerked awake several minutes before as though she were expecting my call. She answered before the second ring! I told her what was going on and that I thought it was time she come (especially with a two hour drive ahead of her).

I showered (wonderful!) and then wandered around a bit while poor Nate tried to get a little shuteye. After the phone call, of course, my contractions slowed (a harbinger of the rest of the day, perhaps?). I worried that I was making her come to early or that I was just overanxious. I got Nate to turn on a movie for me. I wanted a musical for whatever reason. My Fair Lady started as I sat on the exercise ball and used the heating pad on my back during contractions. I moved so that my knees were on the floor and I leaned over the ball. Nate laughed at me as I was singing "Wouldn't it Be Loverly". We also made the final name choice watching the movie, though I hadn't really noticed that a character in the movie had the name we picked. It was really coincidental.

K and C arrived at about 5:45. I wanted her to check me. I was worried that I wasn't too far along. I was at a 5 with a very soft and reactive cervix. It was encouraging. I went from a 5 to complete in just a couple hours with Cordelia so I hoped it wouldn't be too long.

We hung out and discussed musicals and how my sister and I would annoy my brothers endlessly with our songs when we were kids. Baby was sounding great and though I was a bit tired I was feeling like things were moving along, despite not having textbook contractions. They prepped the room and got everything ready while I labored.

Cordelia woke up briefly and Nate took her back to bed, where he slept a bit too. I tried reaching my sister so she could come over and take the girls to her house, if needed. I took another shower and tried to do different things to pass the time and get away from the pain a bit.

Around noon (I really don't recall, though!), K, checked my progress and there was a cervical lip left and the baby just wasn't quite getting it. He was also posterior which was not ideal. He still sounded perfect and seemed perfectly content in there as he kicked around. K encouraged me to try to get my water to break by sitting on the toilet. Instead, I tossed my cookies. K then said I could try being on my hands and knees to get the baby to move into another position. I tired very quickly of this. My body was just feeling quite done with labor. So baby stayed posterior for the time being.

By then, the girls were awake and going a bit nuts. Finally, we were able to reach my sister and she came and took the girls. Cordelia, my little protector through the whole pregnancy was not excited about leaving me.

By about 2 pm I was feeling pretty discouraged. It had already been longer than my other labors and I didn't feel very close at all. K suggested that she could hold back my cervix while I was bearing down during a contraction so that his head could move past. I wasn't certain I wanted to do this. I just wanted it to be over. At this point, I was really just beside myself. I just wanted my baby in my arms and for the pain to be over. This was probably my lowest point during labor. I was feeling very afraid and fragile.

Since my water had not broken yet, I took a bath. When I am pregnant, baths are my best friend. It was probably the best thing I could have done. It recharged me and I even got a little rest. I thought I might be able to get the baby to rotate a bit (I had gotten him to turn from a breech position in the bath several weeks prior. I prayed and asked God to get me through this.

I got out and indeed, he had rotated! We did what K suggested and after a couple times, it worked. Baby was moving past the cervix, bit by bit.

As 4 pm loomed, we discussed breaking my water. I was not overly excited about this because last time things went all to hell after my water broke. I wasn't about to have anything happen because I made that choice. Even knowing that women have AROM all the time to no ill effect didn't convince me. Eventually, I decided to do it. I just wanted it to be over. That was the "convincer".

After the membrane was ruptured, things of course, became more intense. I could not run away from the intensity. I was very slowly getting the urge to push, but I was so tired I barely made it through some contractions. Finally, at around 5, I had the urge to push. I could feel the baby moving down. And when my body decides to push, it really decides to push. It really just takes over. It took 3, maybe, pushes to deliver his head. I needed a moment to recover so I could deliver the rest of him. It all happened so quickly I couldn't believe it. Nate got to catch him and he was handed to me. He looked great, just perfect. He cried a little but mostly just wanted to look around. I commented that he didn't look like he was 9 pounds, but my midwives assured me he was at least that.

Frederick James had arrived at 5:08 in the afternoon, right before sunset. I was hit by the massive hormone rush. I did it! He was here! He was alive and he was mine. All 10 pounds and nearly 23 inches of him.

I delivered the afterbirth, though it took more of me than I expected, things got cleaned up, we were fed and then we just enjoyed our little guy. The newborn evaluation was done when he was a couple hours old and he was just perfect.

My sister and my brother-in-law returned with the girls. Cordelia had fallen asleep, so she didn't meet him until midnight that night! Cecily was a bit shy and seemed almost in awe that the baby was really out!

It was just beautiful. I still don't think I am totally down from that high. It was an incredible experience.

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Birth Story Part 1: Being Ready

It has been nearly 2 weeks since the birth of my little guy and already the specifics are fading quite quickly. I am going to try to get the birth story written in the next couple days.

As I am sure you know, I had very great apprehension as my due date neared (guess date to be precise as I conceived after only one post-partum cycle). March 4th loomed large and because I was measuring large and feeling even larger still, I couldn't shake the feeling that he would arrive before then.

Wanting to be sure everything was going well, My midwife, K, sent me for a biophysical profile on the Monday before. I felt confident that baby was still head down as he had been for the few weeks prior following a very short turn being breech. I was praying that all would look well. It did, though baby was sleeping during. Of course it gave me pause when the tech wasn't getting as much movement as she wanted. All was well. Healthy, head down and likely over 9 pounds. Deep sigh of relief.

The next day, K came over with C, the apprentice (these were the two at Phineas's labor), and J, my initial midwife for the pregnancy with P who would be assisting. We had a great visit. We talked and laughed and discussed when he'd be born. I told them I had a feeling it would be very soon. I was hoping for Wednesday. All three of my babies had been born on Wednesday. It was my parents' anniversary, my grandfather's birthday, and apparently Dr. Suess's as well. Strangely, it was also the 11 month anniversary of P's death. I talked about my fears and we discussed Phineas a little bit too (can I tell you how great it is to have company to speak about him so openly?). They listened to and felt the baby. Perfect, probably 9 & 1/2 pounds. That afternoon I napped a bit and got some last minute things ready.

Before going to bed, I had a couple good contractions and felt like it (labor and birth!) was coming and there was no turning back. Of course, I didn't sleep well. Contractions every 10-20 minutes as I dozed between them. I eventually got an hour or two of mostly uninterrupted sleep. I got up. More contractions. I called K to give her the heads up early in the afternoon. I still felt like I had a good several hours left. A friend picked up the girls and took them for the evening while Nate and I hung out. My contractions had petered out and while they were still coming, it was only every 20-30 minutes. So, we waited. Nate put the girls to bed and then came and gave me a blessing. A blessing that I could rest and that the delivery would go smoothly. I went to sleep at about 11 pm. No Wednesday baby this time. I tried to rest. I knew the baby would arrive the next day.

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