Sweet Pea's Birth Story

It seems like we’ve always had you and it’s hard to remember what life was like before you were here. As I write, you are napping with your little bum up in the air, playing with your hair as you fall asleep. The events of this morning tuckered you out after you got your first bloody and very fat lip from stumbling on the tub. We almost made it to your first birthday without any major scrapes.  I guess I won’t be taking your 1^st year pictures until next week, but I must say your crooked, swollen smile is awfully cute.  Tomorrow we’ll be celebrating your first year of life, baby girl. One whole year.  You have changed so much since our first night home with you…

Your estimated due date was July 13^th. Daddy and I had a countdown starting from day 200-something. I was convinced you were going to come on July 13^th. Nonna  bought a one-way ticket and flew to Texas the beginning of July just in case you came early…like first-borns ever come early. ;) I tried to swim, walk, bounce, birth ball, labor cookie you out, but nothing, and with each passing night I got scared of giving birth and prayed that when I went into labor it would be in the morning because I wasn’t as fearful.  The 13^th came and went. The 14^th came and went. The 15^th came and went. By now you, my dear, were in the negative numbers of “How many days until Zoë?”.  I was sitting on the birth ball one afternoon watching an episode of Frasier and Nonna asked, “What do you want to do? Do you want something to eat? How are you feeling?” I was so anxious to have you here I didn’t know what I was thinking/feeling, “I just  want to have my baby.” 

The 16^th came and went. The midwife, who had said I shouldn’t go past last weekend, lied. :) They wanted to do an ultrasound on you because the midwife didn’t think she felt much amniotic fluid and wanted to make sure you could keep cooking in there ok. While there, Daddy asked the tech to make sure one last time that you were, in fact, a girl. It was hard to tell with how squished you looked, but we were pretty convinced.

The 17^th came and went. We tried all sorts of labor-inducing tricks. Your Daddy even surprised me one morning with homemade labor cookies. He looked so cute in his oven mitts...even had flour on his face. I just soaked up the days of sleeping in for the last time in my entire life…ever. 

The 18^th came and was going. The midwife, Cherie, gave us a couple options because you were showing no signs of coming out. Looking back, I would just have waited until you were ready, ready, but you were my first and I was anxious. Of the options, I felt most comfortable with the cervical balloon. Daddy and I went home and thus began 12 hours of contractions trying to get me dilated. The hope was that after we took it out at night it would have “jump-started” real labor, but nothing happened. On the plus side, we got a really good, solid night’s sleep for what was about to happen.

Daddy woke up on the 19th, looked at me and said, “Are you still pregnant? Anything yet?”  We checked in at the birthing center for the bajillionth time that week, the balloon dilated me to 4 cm (!!!), and Cherie said she wanted to break my water. I asked her for other options first, and so we went home with some homework only to check in later that morning with nothing to show for it. She broke my water.  It was so strange feeling like I was controlling when you were going to come, but I trusted Cherie and within 2 seconds, there was no going back. I was a little shaky and very quiet because I did not know how to process what just happened.  I don’t think any woman should be in control of telling her body when she is about to be in the most pain of her entire life. We went back home (thankfully, the birthing center was only a few blocks down the road), gathered a few last minute things, and around noon nestled into our room at the birthing center, which Nana likened to a luxurious room at The Savoy in London.  It was in a beautiful room in a 100 year-old  Victorian home that we had you. 

We met our birthing assistant, Debbie, who was as sweet and gentle as could be. Daddy and I walked through contractions in the park. He was exactly what I needed him to be. We checked on your heartbeat periodically, and Debbie even brought me a fruit plate because I really hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. I labored so quietly that Cherie didn’t think I was in active labor yet. I remember telling Debbie, “Does she want moaning? Because I can yell!” Daddy wanted her to check again because he noticed how painful contractions were getting. 

We went walking in the park again while Debbie drew up a bath for me.  I could feel you moving down and getting lower and it became more difficult to walk through contractions, but I kept walking because I wanted you out as soon as possible. I hopped in the tub and listened to some soft worship music in the background. It was around 2:30 and I felt like I wanted to push. Daddy couldn’t believe it, but he called for the midwife and sure enough I heard, “We’re about to have this baby!” I didn’t plan on having a water birth, but I was really relaxed in the tub and I loved the sunshine coming through the windows all around me.

 

  

 

 

It must have taken me awhile to get the hang of pushing since I was told I was just giving a “nickel’s worth”, but it felt SO GOOD to push with each contraction. I joked that I felt like I could push all day (maybe if I had to push for more than 20 minutes I wouldn’t have said that). Clearly, I was high on adrenaline. Best pain killer ever. Daddy realized he never called Grammy, so while holding me between contractions he gave her a quick call and Nonna called Papa until I teased them both and said, “Put the cell phones away! Here comes another one!” I reached down and could feel the top of your head and Daddy kept leaning down in my ear saying, “I can see her hair floating in the water, babe!” I was so excited to hear that you had hair – thick black hair. Your momma was bald until she was 2! Because your head kept going back, I kept saying, “Come on, baby!” “Look at her,” Cherie said, “blaming the baby…” She made me laugh. I heard Cherie say that your head was finally out, Daddy caught you, and then you were in my arms with your arms draped across my shoulders.  The first words I spoke were, “Oh sweetheart.”  Holding you was the most intense moment of my entire life…to finally see you…to see that you were healthy and beautiful and perfect...and purple? I wanted you to come out crying because I wanted to know everything was OK with you. You gave a couple cries and then you just stared at us. Daddy leaned in close and we just admired everything about you. 

 

 

 

You weighed in at 8 lbs. 3 oz. – exactly what I weighed when I was born. Daddy gave you your first bath and you just floated as still as could be in there. Nonna made sure I kept eating. It was Debbie who had to suggest that I should try to nurse you. Oh yeah! You need to eat. You keep sticking out your tongue and licking your lips. First time mom over here! By 9:00 pm (6 hrs. later) we were feeling pretty good, so we hopped in the car and made the 2 minute drive home. The first thing I wanted to do was shower. I desperately needed and wanted a shower. I nursed you, not really sure what you were getting or doing. We had you sleep on a bassinet pad in between us. I don’t think I slept at all that night. Every little sound, noise, cough, whimper you made, I bolted up. We still had to suction some stuff out of your throat, which wasn’t fun for anyone. Daddy got up with me every time that first week when I nursed you out in the living room. 

 

 

We had such a wonderful birth experience. Your arrival was beautiful and more than I could have hoped for.  Who knew that God was giving us the sweetest little human alive? You are loved, Sweet Pea. Desperately loved to the moon and back.

 

During Bible we started talking about the Trinity and one of my little boys became increasingly aware that we can't understand everything about our great, mysterious God. He puts his hands on his head and vents, "It just makes me want to break a pencil!"

While reading through Revelation as a class one of my girls prays, "I pray for the people in the world to be saved that they could escape this judgement that we are reading about."

Enrichment student: "When is your baby due?"
Me: "July 13th. Whether she decides to come then or not is entirely up to her though."
Enrichment student: "But isn't it up to God? Because He knows when it's done or not."

Student: "Are we watching a war movie today? Are there violins in it?"
Me: "Why do you ask?"
Student: "I just don't want you to fast forward through those parts."
Me (2 hours later): "Did you mean violence?!"

Reading a sentence about "skating on thin ice" a boy raises his hand and says, "You tell me that I do that all the time, Mrs. McKanna!"

"Mrs. McKanna, my back hurts, my stomach aches, and my hand is cramping. I think I need some Viagra." I am left trying to hold myself together behind my desk knowing that he had absolutely no idea what he just said. 

"I can't find Z in the dictionary." This is when I admit defeat as a teacher.

My absolute favorite conversation happened with one of my little boys today when we were talking about finding out my baby's gender.

Boy: "Mrs. McKanna, how do they tell the difference between a girl baby and a boy baby."
Me: "Well, have you heard of an ultrasound before?"
Boy: "No, ma'am."
Me: "They take this wand and when they put it over my belly they can see the baby inside...and then they look for boy parts or girl parts."

I wish you could see his face as it registered. He winces and asks, "You mean it's naked?!"
Me: "Well my baby certainly isn't clothed!"

"If you're a girl you roll a boy; if you're a boy you roll a girl. They were rolling us. My dad took me rolling for the first time in my life when I was five." (Very intrigued, I later learned that they were talking about toilet papering someone's home.) Oh Texas.

"Mrs. McKanna, I have phlegm...you know that yellow stuff you get when you have croup...I've been spewing it out all morning." I hand her a tissue.

"I hope you have a boy because girls leave their underwear all over the floor!" says the boy with two older sisters.

"How's my overbite look, Mrs. McKanna? Is it big or small?"

One little boy keeps looking at my tummy. "Mrs. McKanna, I JUST got a picture of what Snoopy looks like in your tummy! He likes to recline."

"My mom says you're not supposed to be married in college."

I love these kids.

My student's morning prayer for someone who had recently died..."Dear God, I pray that ______ is having a great time in heaven today!"

Phosphorwhat?

My students have recently taken an interest in reading their foods' nutrition facts during lunch and turning it into a competition. "How much percent Vitamin A does your yogurt have? My granola bar has 6%. Vitamin B 30%. Calcium 20%. Phosphorus...what? Mrs. McKanna, what's Phosphorus? Whatever it is, I'm eating 15% of it!"

In my little fourth-grade world, I can't stop smiling at these conversations...

Glutton-Free Mudpies!

This is what makes teaching Class 4 so much fun! My girls have been making "cake balls" every day at playtime for the last week and "baking" them in the sun. They've ground rocks into powder for the sprinkles and gathered green leaves to serve as "fairy plates." In the words of Anne Shirley, "There's so much scope for the imagination" in mud and rocks. I love the simplicity of how they play. This was my invitation to their party:

Dear Teacher,

Please come to our party! It's going to have glutton-free (I think she meant "gluten-free") mudpies! RSVP to myname@class4C.com which I made up. If you would like to come, please meet at the lunch tables! Hope to see you there!