The Birth Story of our Little Heavenly Rose

Rosalie Thérèse, our sweet little Rose, is almost 6 months old. Her birth story, unlike any of our other children, I have had to ponder on a while - processing, cherishing, acknowledging, questioning. There was nothing traumatic or earth shattering about her journey earthside, but being born in 2020 bears with it its own weight and magnitude, even if everything goes according to hope.

Six months and so full of LIFE

My pregnancy with Rosalie was most certainly the most difficult, and not because of the regular and willingly suffered discomforts of pregnancy, but because of a crushing sense of anxiety, coupled with a few serious illnesses for me, and then the perceived fruition of my anxieties presenting itself in the form of covid 19 and a world flipped on its head!

But we see the hand of a Loving Father in all of it, most exquisitely manifest in the choosing of our sweet girls' name! Even before we knew she was a girl I bought a tiny little rose covered bonnet just in case we had the opportunity to cover a sweet daughter's head with it. The name Rosalie presented itself to us before we had any sense of what was coming for our world, and we started calling her by name in December of 2019.  Come March 2020, with the emergence of the covid-19 pandemic, we learned that St. Rosalie was being invoked throughout the Catholic world as the patron saint of plagues and pandemics. It was as if, in that very moment, God was reassuring us that HE was in control, and outside of time He was working all things for our good. I believe that to my very core, even though things still seem confusing, upside-down, and backwards! He is a good, good Father. 

Full term with our Rosalie and so very eager to hold her in my arms!

If you've read any of my other birth stories you know that I have always used the hypnobabies program to prepare for the work of welcoming our babies. However, I had a nasty respiratory virus in January and February that caused me to pull an intercostal muscle (we think?). Either way, it made it impossible to take deep breaths! For me the most helpful part of the hypnobabies program is deep, nourishing breaths directed at my muscles, allowing them to totally relax and do their job! However, I couldn't breath SO I lay awake at night wondering just how I was going to manage to birth our baby, when every time I tried to practice hypnobabies I ended up feeling like I couldn't breath at all. I knew this was going to be a different birth, and for the very first time in all four births I felt incredibly afraid.

This, coupled with the fact that all of a sudden covid restrictions meant midwifery care changed. I am a creature of habit, I find deep security in the patterns that I can predict, the ones that have made me feel safe and seen in years past. All of a sudden the midwives could/would only see me if there was a concern. If not we would stretch out the appointments. I didn't have any glaring symptoms of a concern, baby was moving well, I felt decent BUT I did find it terribly difficult to not be able to hear Rosalie's heartbeat, measure her growth, and connect in person with our midwives who were also my friends and a very safe place. Admittedly, at 35 weeks or so when I got the email cancelling my appointment, I sat in our car and cried. Everything was changing so quickly and I held my belly wondering how I could bring a baby into this mess! I felt afraid of so many things...being separated from my baby, not having a home birth, Joe losing his job, not knowing how to get groceries (haha). I cried, I prayed, I barely slept, and I worried. Admittedly, it was an incredibly difficult time for me. I felt like a shadow of myself. 

"Sheltering in place" in our front yard. It was a long and cold spring in Calgary, 
Rosalie and I both soaked up the sun on this warm day and I delighted in watching my older
children run and play!

And yet, my love for this little girl was fierce, and huge. Knowing that her existence was not an accident, and knowing that she was created for a time such as this, I prayed for the courage to bring her earthside in a way that honoured the already existing beauty of her vocation to LOVE. 

I often took recourse to the words of Our Lady of Guadalupe, as our little one was named in honour of the Blessed Mother. These words in particular I read over and over, "nothing should frighten or grieve you. Let not your heart be disturbed. Do not fear that sickness, nor any other sickness or anguish. Am I not here, who is your Mother? Are you not under my protection? Am I not your health? Are you not happily within my fold? What else do you wish?"

At my 39 week appointment, Rosalie was measuring smaller than she had been all along, and I had dropped several pounds (thanks, anxiety!), and as opposed to ordering an ultrasound our midwife Patty felt it was fine to try and get things started. I remember going to bed feeling fairly certain that Rosalie would be born the next day, and cradling my belly feeling feeling a mixture of sadness and excitement that the next day she may be in my arms and out of my belly. She had known the safe security of my beating heart for 40 weeks. I marvel that all of my children know what my heart sounds like from the inside. I wonder when they cuddle into me with their head on my chest if they experience nostalgia for that reality. My heart broke and thrilled to know that very soon I would cuddle our darling, skin to skin and heart to heart, but on the outside.

I woke up early with fairly inconsistent but real contractions.  For the first time in my experience my whole self rebelled against the reality! Joe, sensing it, arranged with my (angel) sister Anna to take the older children fairly early in the day while reassuring me that it didn't matter if I spent the whole day sleeping. Concurrently, my (angel) of a mother showed up to be of any necessary support. She brought her amazing wooden citrus juicer and made me a black tea with lemon and honey. I was tired after several weeks of schooling at home and worrying all night long. In those morning hours I felt fairly certain I'd rather not have a baby today, thank you very much! The contractions certainly matched my wishy washy attitude. However, they were real and consistent enough that I called Patty, our midwife, who arrived and found me 4 cm dilated. I was discouraged as the last two births our midwives had arrived to find me a 7 or 8! However, Patty was very cheerful about it and gleefully declared she could get the paperwork done before baby made her appearance. We all laughed.

Things become blurry for me but if I think back to those couple of hours they are a peaceful feeling, if that makes sense. Patty did paper work, checked baby's heartbeat, and visited with my mom. Joe made sure the pool was set up, extra hot water was boiling, and the sheets were just-so (two sets with a shower curtain between) on the bed. Rosalie's birth playlist was playing, all of the songs I'd been listening to since we knew she was coming. A particular favorite was "Lead you Home" by Emorie. She still calms when I sing it to her, she heard me sing it to her so many times on the inside! 

However, finally Patty and my mom told me that if I wanted to have this baby I should just start doing lunges on the stairs and she would come! I decided that despite being very tired we should probably just get this whole thing over with and so I started doing lunges on the stairs. Every contraction I'd hold onto the railing and count backwards from 20, but every so often also saying "Jesus, Mary, Joseph." It was all very quiet and in my own head so the world kept moving nicely around me, but Joe hovered ever so closely making sure there was nothing I needed. I have a distinct memory of being in the middle of a hard contraction and Patty asking my mom what Joe's middle name was. However, my mom thought Patty had asked what Rosalie's middle name was and told her it was Therese. Patty didn't even blink an eye as she noted that down, and as soon as the contraction was over I set the record straight. Everyone laughed and Patty admitted she thought it was a pretty bizarre middle name for Joe but of course she has heard all sorts of names! I'm grateful Rosalie's birth records don't show her father as having the middle name of Therese!

Joe was helping me from one place to the next in our home and as the next contraction set in I looked at him and very sincerely told him I did not believe I could do it. That's the first time I've ever felt that way when having a baby. I just felt too tired! He looked at me and with all sincerity told me that meant she was almost here. I could have wept. I did tear up, but he has never lied to me and in that moment I believed him with every fiber of my being. I then looked at Patty and told her I would like to leave now, thank you very much! She answered so matter of factly and asked me where exactly I would go. In my labour land brain I realized I was the one having a baby and there was nowhere I could go to depart from this very real place of hard work and deep, purifying, soul stretching LOVE. Patty did suggest I get in the pool for some relief and we all decided that was a good idea.

However, as soon as I got in the first contraction brought that never forgettable feeling of involuntary pushing. It is SO powerful and so impossible to contain. Even though the second midwife hadn't yet arrived Patty told me to just do whatever felt right and not worry about anything else. She is amazing!! SO, about 3 minutes later our girl was born! I have a very distinct memory of her giving one last kick inside of my belly as she was born. It was so striking to me in that moment - she was in-between worlds and giving one more final goodbye to her first home. Up, up through the warm water into my outstretched arms. I clasped her to my chest. She was here. Oh, she was finally here!

Unlike the boys who were quiet and pensive she immediately let us know that she was slightly annoyed to be so rudely evicted from her watery home (much like her big sister!). 

Time stands still once your sweet baby is in your arms, perhaps especially in a home water birth? Baby is just kept warm with mama, no need to be rubbed or dried or measured. The beautiful nourishing blood keeps pumping through the still attached umbilical cord until it has become white. We just stared at our darling. We spoke to her, we marvelled over her her, we commented on her features and took so many pictures. For the first time in our births Joe cut the umbilical cord, which took great courage I might add! And then his sweet, beautiful, second daughter was handed up to him. What a moment after 40 long weeks of supporting me in carrying her. She is so lucky to have him as her daddy!

Brave daddy cutting the umbilical cord!

Finally holding his baby daughter

There is something beautiful about the ritual of caring for a woman after she has had a baby. I cherish it always. In such a vulnerable, raw place to be helped to bed, dried off, covered in something warm, hydrated out of a straw and fed, clucked over and congratulated. There are few things like it, feeling like an absolute queen in pyjamas. I clutched tiny, sweet new life against my bare chest as she peacefully listened to the reassuring thump of my familiar heartbeat. 

Gentle newborn checks

So many reassuring hands on our sweet new girl!

Being held and loved by her Lolly

Resting together....

Those quiet, postpartum moments. I so treasure these kind of photos....

Very shortly after the children came bursting through the door, with my dad and grandma and sister! Oh so much joy, so much excitement, and turn taking, and ooing and ahhing! We knew Rosalie was a gift to her siblings, and their joy affirmed our conviction. But also seeing the joyful tears of my Grandmother as she held her hours-old great granddaughter will forever be imprinted on my heart. Especially in covid, Rosalie was like a breath of heavenly air for all of us. 

Rosalie's birth day ended in the most beautiful way. Everything was cleaned up and all of the guests were gone. It was just us, a family of 6 together for the first time. Joe brought our television up from the basement and we all cuddled in bed to watch Beauty and the Beast. We ordered everyone favourite, a sushi feast! We all ate in bed together, with our sweet new baby snuggled in my arms. My heart swelled to almost bursting, so much so that it hurt, to look down our king sized bed and the sweet little children all over it and know they were ours. The product of our love. 1+1=6. To God be the glory, my cup overflows. Thank you Jesus for our sweet tiny heavenly Rose.

Rosalie Thérèse

April 23, 2020

4:07 PM

6 lbs 4.5 oz

19.5 inches

"In the silence
Deep resounding violence of 
Two hearts beating for each other 

In the quiet 
Stillness I’m reminded of 
What it means to love another 

Ooh 
I would carry it all 
For you 

When the light has gone 
And all the night has fallen 
When the last bird sings goodnight 
When the sigh of songs inside your heart come calling 
Let it lead you home to me 

All the gilded 
Moments i have lifted from seasons in the rough 
I keep hidden deep inside my vision 
A tapestry of us 

Oh my only one 
Sweet like summer sun 
Oh my only one 

When the light has gone 
And all the night has fallen 
when the last bird sings goodnight 
when the sigh of songs inside your heart come calling 
let it lead you home to me" - Lead You Home by Emorie and the Seasons

Moments of Grace: In the Fullness of TIme

I remember when we lost our second baby, Tristan, to miscarriage. It was hard to understand or accept why God would allow such a thing to happen. Yet, when Tristan's due date came and I was already pregnant with Judah, it made sense to me. Holding sweet Judah in my arms as a tiny one and whispering his name to him which means, "to praise",  I knew that in the fullness of time God had allowed such a suffering as a pregnancy loss for such a glory as Judah's beautiful life.

The moment of Judah's accident last week keeps me awake at night. The juxtaposition of the happy and delightful moments before is hard for my soul to digest. It had been an intense week, and I'd been caught up in the to-dos before we departed for Texas. On that day, with the sun shining and my children laughing and playing so delightedly, I made a conscious decision to just BE and PLAY for as long as we could.

I sat there gazing at our darlings playing and in a moment everything changed, as his little leg was broken in front of my eyes, and my whole being unable to stop it from happening. Delighted laughs to pain in an instant.

I have had to work to make peace with the fact that God allowed it to happen. Such a suffering, body and soul, for our son....and then I realized something beautiful!

Our Ezekiel is big...huge as a matter of fact. He is 100th percentile for height, 96th for weight, and wearing clothing that Judah was wearing last summer. It has been comical trying to understand 2 brothers built so differently, or even comprehend why I was given this particular challenge of an absolutely enormous baby to tote around in a season of life where the demands on me were already intense enough. My arms, legs, and back are strong by necessity because of going through the daily rigours of motherhood with a ginormous hunk of love on my hips. 

And then, a few days ago, as I was carrying Judah from one place to another and he felt like an absolute feather, I realized that in the fullness of time this beautiful grace was allowed....that I would have the strength and stamina to tend to a child who was rendered immobile by an accident. While it is a slight inconvenience to carry him everywhere, it is not in any way too difficult for me physically. This gives sweet Judah a sense of being safe, secure, held, supported, and in no way a burden for us in his brokenness.

Outside of time, and in His eternal perspective, God the Father saw fit to give me this consolation....knowing the sadness of a child with a broken limb, and knowing that it would take extra strength to help him navigate this challenge without discouraging him, I was blessed with a super huge chunky baby to build my muscles up.

Truly it may seem far fetched, but I know for a fact, with deep Faith, that this gift has been given us. I revel in this small inkling of the workings of God's grace in the midst of our human freedom,  and I say, "thank you."

"Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary, His understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might He increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint."                

Isaiah 40: 28-31

Grade 1 for Our Little Lamb

I always hope this year has a special place in the recesses of my heart, the first year that I had the privilege and the challenge of educating our daughter at home.

When she was just tiny, I always called Liliana my little lamb...tender, intuitive, slightly clumsy, daring, introverted....happy to be held close by mama always. 

My little Liliana Lamb 

Kindergarten at our nearby school was not a bad experience, but our Liliana suffered from the anxiety of an education system very much oriented to the outgoing and the extroverted. Lots of group work and a structure that is necessarily conducive to the good of the majority meant that she was very much lost in the crowd. She started biting her nails and struggled to fall asleep at night. Her sense of wonder and delight seemed to fade. She had lovely friends and an amazing teacher, but she was not thriving and our hearts were troubled!

Over the summer we saw our girl emerge again in confidence, playfulness, and peace. The thought of sending her to school for 8 hour days, when Judah would miss her terribly AS WOULD I, gently guided my heart towards another possibility. I felt so sad that the only time we would have with her would be a few precious hours at night....  I started reading, and researching, and considering the possibility of teaching her at home - which, by the way, is something I never would have imagined in my most WILD dreams! So of course we also prayed hard for wisdom and discernment. 

Ann Voskamp

Of course, this year was not without its challenges, and I had a few moments of feeling woeful for the reality of being surrounded by small children all.the.time. I had a few pity parties for "all the things I could get done" if I was not teaching Liliana. 

That being said I did have moments of respite, because she spent 2 days per week learning at a little cottage school, so beautifully devoted to instilling in children a sense of wonder and delight....and, get this, her age group was called "The Little Lambs!"

And, when I really took it to prayer, is there anything more important, more pressing, or more eternally relevant than forming our sweet one - intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually - in the heart of our home?

No, because it was obvious to me as her mama that this unique little soul needed to be learning close to home, at least for now, and so that is what we did. 

A few lessons for me from the year...

 - we are our children's advocates, voices, ambassadors - we do not have to be swayed by convention or "the way it is always done." We can decide with boldness and confidence the best for them, without apologizing or justifying - for me, as a pleaser, this was a very important lessons. One I always knew but got to live this year

- Never say never! Gosh am I learning this humbling lesson over and over again in motherhood

- the delight of seeing the world of reading books unfold before a child is really a privilege to witness, and what an honour for me, as her mama, to be primarily instrumental in facilitating this!

- the flexibility of learning at home is unmatched! We only ever spent 3 hours maximum at school, and even then took some days or even weeks off because we were getting too far ahead!

- friendship between siblings is a precious, beautiful thing to witness. This seems so random for this blog, but my goodness am I happy that the friendship between Liliana and Judah only grew deeper this year!

I could go on and on about the gifts and challenges of this year! I am grateful to be wrapping it up, I am grateful for the break, I am grateful for a little girl who is thriving and blossoming. She is joyfilled, bouncy, messy, determined, delightful, innocent, and loves her family, Jesus, and her neighbour with sweet devotion. What a year it has been for our Little Lamb!

My sweet Liliana, I loved teaching you this year. Thank you, my darling, for the most heart-stretching time learning together on this new journey!

To the Neighbour With the Dilapidated House

There is a certain route we always take on foot, because it leads us to several important places.....the swimming pool, the library, the mall, the grocery store, and Nanny's house for Sunday dinner. For years there has been a house we walk by, and it is utterly dilapidated. The paint has peeled off, the shutters are falling off, the fence has boards missing, and through the windows you can see shabby curtains hanging by a thread. To make it worse, there are 2 cars in the back driveway, without licence plates, and sitting on flat tires. 

I never felt disgusted or appalled by the people that owned that home, but I did wonder what was wrong that so much was going wrong, and it was more out of a sick curiosity than a sense of sympathy...certainly not empathy.

We have come through a hard winter. Our children have been sick lots, we are piecing together income, and things (actual physical things) in our life sort of seem to be falling apart! The faux leather chairs are peeling, there is a dent in the side of our van from someones runaway Costco cart, that silly patch of lawn that keeps dying no matter how much we love it is even more dead, the paint is peeling on the outside of our home, tea towels are stained and shabby looking. I truly could go on, it has felt like a perfect storm, and the reality is that we don't have the resources now to replace or fix things! We are not hard off by any stretch, but the extra that it takes to replace and repair isn't there for now. And nothing is necessarily wrong with us that things are going slightly sideways, it is just how it is for now, despite our efforts for otherwise and because of certain things we've prioritized.

And as my sweet skipping son and I were strolling past the dilapidated house a few days ago I felt such love for those people and their story. They have a story...a sacred story, maybe a tragic story, possibly a story with many triumphs also. Perhaps they are trying hard, perhaps they have given up and sit drinking their morning coffee looking out the shabby blinds and not even noticing them anymore. Then I think of us....I cringe over our peeling chairs if we have invited someone over, but during our family dinners when our little loves are sitting on them, we notice our little loves and not the silly peeling chairs. And we delight in them, and we smile. 

And so I know that everything happens for a reason and truly to every thing there is a season. Maybe some have seasons of suffering or hardship that last many years, our season has been short so far, but I see the Divine Refiner working His fire on my soul, softening it, reshaping it, even allowing it to be tired and weary. Because out of that tired and weary comes a heart more able to see others and their story, truly see with the eyes of the soul and a tender glance. 

Maybe we will have a chance to run in to these people on one our walks, and maybe we can offer them a friendly and even empathetic greeting of hello and how are you. May it be so!

Moments of Grace: It's OK Daddy Can Fix It

We have a spot on our kitchen counter, by the telephone and the (dirty) windows, where there is typically a line up of broken toys waiting for Daddy's magic touch.

Saying goodbye to their hero as he heads off to  "bring home the bacon"!

It doesn't matter if the toys are worth 10 cents, or whether their injury is tiny (like when tiny figurine Ariel lost her nose!), or whether the toy has been broken 8 times before. ...it's always OK because Daddy can fix it. The part of me that hates junk and clutter always wants to get rid of broken toys. However, the children have the most staunch and everlasting conviction that their daddy will attempt to fix anything.  And so, I always tell them to put it up there and Daddy will take care of it when he has a chance.

We will finally get the children settled in bed and I'll come out to see him standing with tweezers in his hand and the handy gorilla glue meticulously restoring Ariel's nose or Thor's hammer tip. He always tries. He then has to set up some sort of crazy scenario to hold the repair in place while the glue dries. 

Most often the repair leaves the toy looking a little different than it was brand new. Sometimes, he has to tell them that he did his best but it might not last too long, and other times he has to tell them that there is really no way for him to restore life to the beloved toy.

Yet it struck me the other day that he is never ever bothered by the sweet line up of toys, or the requests for him to fix something. He stands taller knowing his children believe that he will always try, and no matter how many bigger or more important things he has on the go he will make time for their petitions.

Judah had a dream to play dress-up a kilt like Braveheart....so of course Daddy made time to cut up one of his old work shirts and even sewed a button on so it stayed up!

Wasting time with our children, such an important thing to do!

It struck me further that this must be how our Father in Heaven sees our prayers of petition. He doesn't mind, He isn't bothered, He rejoices in our hearts turned to him with our requests. I stop myself from bringing mundane or simple prayers to Him.....telling myself that there are bigger and more important things for Him to deal with. But when I think how Joe would be heartbroken if the children refrained from bringing their toys to him in their sweet clenched little hands, I can understand how our Father in Heaven desires for us to bring everything to Him and never believe that something is too mundane to bring to His throne. For He rejoices mostly in the unburdening of our hearts, the expressions of our worries, our fears, and even our requests of "Daddy will you fix this?"

Can He always fix it to make it like new? No. He knows when something is better left unfixed or slightly different than what it was before. But will He ever refuse to receive us? No. Will He ever scoff at our little needs? No. He loves our little line of broken things waiting for His magic touch.

I am so grateful for my little ones! May I treasure these days of little broken toys and sweet innocent hearts that believe a kiss can fix a bump or bruise. May my love show them the love of their Father in heaven. 

When You Realize Your Greatest Dream Has Already Come True

Several afternoons ago I sat the baby on the carpet and took my sweet husband by the hands. As the children played around us I looked into his eyes and said, "I need you to know that in this beautiful life of ours, everything good and hard that has happened....our children, our adventures, our life, YOU are my greatest dream come true. I don't know what is going to happen or where we will end up but it doesn't matter, because the deepest dream of my heart is already a reality."

He needed to hear it, I needed to say it....

He is my greatest dream come true.

The night he proposed to me, what joy!

It came to me in my early morning prayer time. I was reflecting on Hannah and her prayer of grief and torment as she begged to be blessed with a son. The writer of the reflection commented that hope transforms prayer from pleading to worship. It brought me back to my broken anxious prayers for someone who would see me, love me, and want me as I am with all my quirks. Broken and fragile from a previous relationship with a man who didn't care enough to be faithful, and who liked to use words like "pathetic" to describe me, I wondered if my heart's shape had become too disfigured to fit another's.

Then this boy came along, not really a man yet, and he wore his nobility of heart on his sleeve. He truly was so captivated by me, my mind, my face, my heart, my dreams that he sometimes was lost for words. I brought him to his knees, and he brought me to mine, and together we prayed a prayer of praise for this love that seemed like a fairy tale. I was so captivated by his eager search for truth and his determined virtue, and his big dreams! We were going to conquer the world together.

Fast forward all of these years in our love story and we are tired. We have three beautiful exhausting children, and to top it all of he has been without steady income for a half a year. Most days it feels like we are just keeping our heads above water, and we fall asleep holding pinkies or touching feet with a nursing baby hogging the space in between us.

Our little Ezekiel's baptism day

I became disillusioned because with his previous steady income came a flood of exciting possibilities. Perhaps we could buy a home, take a warm vacation, start putting some money away for retirement, renew our wedding vows in Italy, buy Joe the truck of his dreams, educate our children how and where we want, etc etc etc. It sort of went away overnight when the company he was working for had to be put on the shelf in the midst of our struggling economy.

And so it feels like we have been in the trenches, and as I am keeping the home and educating our children, he is doing battle to bring in enough to live off of. He feels like he is letting us down, and he feels responsible for any struggles we might have, even though he is not! And we both are tempted to feel like our dreams are becoming farther away. 

Until I realized my dream is standing right beside me each day, through thick and thin. Those other "dreams" would be nice, but they are fluff and he is the real deal.

...in the midst of the grief, the cross, or the exhaustion, he is patient, devoted, determined, hard working, tender, and funny. He loves our children magnificently and witnesses to them what it looks like when a husband loves his wife with all his heart and will. Who knows if he will change the world as a career man, but he is absolutely changing the world through how he loves his family. 

All is grace. "When all is grace we can wait out our pain and longing in hope. When all is grace, we can give God back our answered prayers in faith. When all is grace, we can see salvation coming in glimpses and flashes, and take up our place in its story. When all is grace, we can be drunk with grief and bold with hope all at once. Because this is just what salvation is: the cradle and the cross, the grace and the stone rolled away, the dark days before a savior and the lit up skies of 'Hosanna in the highest.'"

All glory to God! How fortunate I am. 

In Which a Little Boy Becomes Big Brother

I wrote this over three months ago but after reading it through it is still something I want to post, so that I don't forget and so that the children always know my love for them.

I wanted to capture here the experience, as I've witnessed it, for our sweet lilttle Judah the Lion as he became big brother.

Early days postpartum, trying to make sure both boys got their snuggles

I can now say, after having experiencing it twice, the transition for the (former) baby when new baby comes is one of the most painful realities for me. It struck me to the heart when Judah was born, and struck me just as hard with Ezekiel's birth.

One random day after Ezekiel was born that Judah wanted to wear his suit, just because

This super sweet-natured little boy broke his arm in the early summer, he is just so darling!

I remember being 3 or 4 days postpartum and sitting on Judah's bed over his sleeping frame. He had been begging and crying for me to cuddle him to sleep, but I was nursing the baby. By the time I finally got there he was asleep. I could not stop it as the hot wet tears poured down my face and onto his pj clad little body. I wanted to lay there with him forever, holding him close, so that he would wake up with me there and know I had not replaced him. It was incredibly painful.

Yet as painful as he found the transition, and as many times as he looked at me with his big beautiful eyes and said "It's HARD being a big brother, I'm only 3 and a half," he so adores Ezekiel. The moment he met him he exclaimed with delight, "Oh Tiny, oh Tiny your so cute, Oh Tiny I love you!"

He has called him Tiny ever since.

He loves to just play around where I am as I nurse or snuggle Ezekiel, but he always makes a little pit stop for a kiss on the head or a head rub. Admittedly, he has said odd things like, "Oh Tiny I love you so much I could squish your head!" But I understand the sentiment of wanting to absolutely crush someone with the weight of my love. I can empathize.

Beautifully, Judah and Liliana have grown even closer in friendship! It makes my heart soar to hear them playing and laughing together. They are two goof-balls and can make me crazy with the immensity of their creative mess, but they so adore each other. 

Judah has also become a bit of a clown, he loves to make us laugh and has figured out funny moves and faces that always have us chuckling. He has grown in tenacity and independence, and very quickly adapted to getting himself dressed and cleaning up after himself.

Now, 10 weeks out I can very peacefully say that I was not wrong in my conviction that another baby would be a gift to our family. Admittedly, that night after I sat crying over sleeping Judah, I walked out to Joe and told him I wasn't sure I could do this again, it was too hard seeing the other children suffer as they adapted. However do know that it makes no sense, nor is it even fair, to try and protect a child from life's natural sufferings.....those sufferings in which they become more generous and less self centered. I suppose it is a good lesson to learn early that life is not always about feeling good and that sometimes love is a choice even when it doesn't feel good.

xoxo

Ezekiel Joseph, a Love (Birth) Story

I consider all of my children's birth stories to be love stories, and I want to treasure them all forever, which is why I write them down. Birth is a love story between Mama, Baby, and Daddy, but especially Mama and Baby. There is a magical, time suspending reality in labour of unity between mom and baby where everything else disappears and nothing else matters. Just the two of us, working together so that we can hold onto each other for the first time.

Ezekiel's birth in particular is a love story because there was so much fear and sadness leading up to it. I didn't have the naive confidence of a first time mama, or the bold confidence of a second time mama, I just felt alot of fear. My pregnancy was full of emotional heaviness, between dying and death, funerals and weddings, growth fears for little babe, prodromal labour discomfort for me. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, fearful that he would not be OK or that somehow I had harmed him through all the stress. I made up my mind in a particular way to love him and birth him with as much serenity and joy as I could. His birth was so wonderful, surreal really. Here he is almost 6 weeks old and I still shake my head at the beauty of it all.

For the first time ever I went past my due date, and so for the first time ever I was checked by a midwife prior to being in labour. Imagine this after 5 weeks of false labour during the night and 5 weeks of wondering whether our baby was coming. I was exhausted from the constant state of "ready to go," pristine house,  and packed bags!  On Friday the 28th I was 2 cm dilated and was given a membrane sweep to possibly get things going. We had a truly happy day, I felt surrendered and ready (as opposed to the agitation I'd been feeling for so long), Joe and I watched a comedy that night and laughed so hard! I had half a glass of wine so as to try and sleep, I felt too tired to go into labour in the wee hours of the night!

I woke between 4 and 4:30 with contractions. I was conditioned to the false stuff so I nonchalantly tried to go back to sleep, but when it seemed there might be a pattern to these ones I started timing them. 7 minutes apart 45 seconds long. I lay there for about an hour and when it seemed they were getting stronger and closer together I got up. 5 minutes apart and 45 seconds long and what seemed like a possible amniotic fluid leak! My water has never broken prior to the pushing phase so I was not so sure. Still in denial that "this could be it!" I plodded into the kitchen, had a cup of coffee, and felt very content. At 6:00 Judah came out for a snuggle and I carried him into Joe. This was my first indication that it could be real, because I did not feel like I could hold Judah through the contractions.

At 6:30 they were more like 3 minutes apart and 1 minute long but still super manageable. However I decided I did not want an unassisted birth so I woke Joe. He sprung alive and into action, he is an absolute machine when it comes to our baby's birth days! He also commanded me to call my mom and the midwives right away. So I called our midwives and someone was coming over to check things out very soon. I cautioned them that I had no idea whether this was real. Regardless,  Joe knowing we run out of hot water very quickly brought up the birth pool and got all of the pots going on the stove. We felt excited and ready, the early morning sun was shining in through the open windows and Ezekiel's playlist was playing.

The first midwife showed up just as the children were waking, 7:15ish. Joe tended to them while she tended to me. It was determined that I was 5-6 cm dilated and my water had indeed broken! Shortly after my mom arrived, her presence during my births is always such a gift. For the next hour everything was so wonderful! I was labouring on the ball, and also getting children ready for soccer, helping them eat breakfast, etc and just dropping wherever a contraction hit me to breath through it. They would come to ask me a question and my eyes would be closed. Liliana would tell Judah that they just had to wait until Mommy's eyes opened. They were totally unconcerned. Judah was running around yelling that it was a HUGE day! The first day of soccer AND the baby was coming. It was so wonderful, so real, and how I imagine it may have been in the olden days when birth and death happened in the middle of the family home. 

My dad arrived around 8:30 with coffee for the midwives and to pick the children up for breakfast and soccer. He gave me a big kiss. Joe said he could tell things were getting real because I was starting to laugh (I laugh when in pain), no one else knew. The midwives were totally unaware of just how far along I was!

As soon as the children left I got in the water. It felt so so amazing! I asked if anyone thought we would have a baby by lunchtime! Because my water had broken I was not feeling the intense pressure Id felt in previous births, but the pain in my cervix was a bit more intense. Still, I laboured silently and no one knew that I was fully dilated. With each child I've had a special visualization, a place I take my mind so that my body can do it's work without my control freak brain getting in the way. With Ezekiel he and I were laying on a warm and beautiful beach in Maui Joe and I discovered one day. It was so private, with trees for shade and softly lapping waves. In my mind I lay there with my baby and it made the contractions so much more manageable. 

I had the now familiar pushing sensation and announced that I was feeling pushy. However, because I was not making any noise and was outwardly very calm everyone just continued with their business - paperwork, chatting, etc. I remember feeling slightly annoyed that people weren't realizing how serious this was but not having the emotional energy to voice it politely so I just stayed quiet :) I was pushing, though, and I put my hand down to see if I could feel baby's head. I felt his head as I was pushing and so I kept pushing and delivered his head into the water. One of the midwives asked if I had pushed through that contraction and I announced, " I think his heads out!"

"His heads out! OK! Let's have a baby!" one of the midwives announced. I felt way too uncomfortable to wait for the next contraction so I pushed his little body out and into the warm water. They passed  him up through my legs and into my arms! "Hi Baby! Hi Baby, I love you, oh you are so Tiny!" I exclaimed as I held him to my chest in relief and disbelief. It was my fastest labour by 5.5 hours, and happened so very much in the middle of life that it seemed unbelievable he could come so easily and so peacefully. It was 9:17 am. 

We sat there in no rush, waiting for his cord to turn white and stop pulsing. We just marvelled at his sweet face, his long toes, his tiny body with a good thick layer of vernix still on it. He was so perfect, he is so perfect, we are so grateful....so tired and so grateful. His older siblings finished their soccer and came home mid-morning to Mama tucked into bed and a sweet tiny brother to love and hold. It could not have happened more ideally!

  

 

Ezekiel Joseph, my heart, my darling, your peaceful disposition, adoring smiles, sleepy, cuddly, patient ways have blessed our family more than you know. You were born quietly and you have blessed us with your serene presence, the gift we dreamt of but could not have imagined the immensity of. You are so treasured, so LOVED!

Ezekiel Joseph Packard

"God is my Strength"

7 lbs 6 ounces, 20 inches

9:17 AM April 29, 2017