Rosemary's Birth

Rosemary Johns
7 lbs 3 oz 
20 1/2 inches
November 21, 2022

Early in my pregnancy, I had the impression that my baby was going to be born later than my due date. This was interesting because my other three babies all came within 7 hours of my due date. I was grateful for the impression and was able to adjust my mindset so that I wasn't depressed or upset when this baby didn't come on her due date. Starting at about 37 weeks, I started having contractions. They were stronger than Braxton Hicks, but they weren't labor-like at all. I could talk, eat, and sometimes even sleep through them. I knew it was my body's way of getting ready to birth, so they really didn't bother me much.

The kids were thrilled that a practice labor 
meant they could swim in the birth tub.

On Saturday the 19th, I started having stronger contractions, and they were every five minutes. After about an hour of this, I called my mom and the midwife, and they headed to my house. The contractions were strong and consistent for four hours, and then they stopped altogether. When the midwife left, I was dilated to a 3, 50% effaced. I was so discouraged. I had never experienced practice labor before even though it's super common in subsequent pregnancies. It was a game of mental gymnastics to think that I was going to meet my baby and then to go to bed with no contractions happening and no baby. It also undermined my confidence a bit. I wondered how I could be so out of touch with my body and this baby. I was concerned that maybe I wouldn't recognize actual labor when it started in earnest. 

Sunday, I was completely exhausted. Ty took the kids to church, insisting that I stay home and rest. I spent the morning sobbing off and on. I was mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. After my meltdown though, I felt pretty good. My family came up and brought dinner, and we played some games. I had a few contractions, but they were super sporadic and not strong. When my family left, my mom offered to stay, and I told her to go home, insisting that nothing was happening, and she might as well sleep in her own bed. I promised to call her if I needed her and to check in in the morning. 

About 20 minutes after my parents left, I lost my mucus plug. I had never noticed when that happened before, so it was interesting to me, but I also know that losing your mucus plug doesn't necessarily mean much. Labor could still be days away, and I hadn't had any contractions in hours. 

Ty and I went to bed around 10, and once I was in bed, I started having contractions every 15 minutes or so. They were strong enough that I couldn't sleep, but it felt just like the practice labor from the night before. Around 11:15, I got in the bath hoping that that would stop the contractions so that I could get a good night of sleep. The contractions slowed down in the tub but didn't go away. I got out just before midnight and prayed fervently that if I was in labor, I would know for sure and that if I wasn't, the contractions would mellow out enough that I'd be able to sleep. 

At 12:01, just after I finished my prayer, I had a contraction that literally drove me to my knees. I had another one five minutes later, and then another one. They were so intense. I called my mom and explained what was happening. I told her I was pretty sure that it was labor but that I wasn't totally confident. I asked her to pray with me on the phone. She started to pray and as she asked that things would be clear, I was hit with a huge surge, requiring me to breathe and vocalize through it. My mom told me she was on her way. I asked her to call my sister, Hailey, and I called the midwife. 

I was still having a solid 5 minutes between contractions, so I got the hose hooked up to fill the birth tub and went in to wake up Ty. I told him I was in labor, and he said, "Okay, just a minute." I went back into the living room (my labor space) and sunk to my knees as I worked with the contractions. The midwife, Eve, arrived sooner than I anticipated, and I was in the midst of a contraction. She came and knelt next to me, rubbing my back and providing counter pressure and reassuring words while she listened to the baby's heart rate. She was also able to place my IV, a precaution to give me IV pitocin to stave off a hemorrhage due to my history of blood loss. We labored together that way for several minutes. It was a beautiful experience. Eve has cared for me at The Birth Center for over 7 years, through all 4 pregnancies, births, a miscarriage, a transfer from home to hospital, trauma, postpartum, and more, but this was the first time I've ever really gotten to labor with her. It felt like a gift to have her there.  During that time, the birth assistant, Kate, arrived and started filling the tub and setting out equipment, and I started to wonder where Ty was. 

Between contractions I went to use the bathroom and found Ty still in bed with no recollection of me trying to wake him. I found him at exactly the wrong point in his sleep cycle. Poor guy. He got up and was totally disoriented, especially because when he came into the living room, Eve, Kate, and my mom were all there ready to go, and things were so intense for me, I was ready to get in the tub. Historically, Tyler and I have had some time to labor together before we got to that point. I got into the tub, and at about 1:30 am, Hailey arrived. I had a few more contractions, and we tried to decide if we should wake up Will who we planned to have at the birth at his request. I felt like the baby was still kind of high, and I didn't want to wake him too soon and have him up too long. 

I asked for a cervical check just to gauge how close we were. Cervical checks aren't routinely done by my midwives, and it was the first time I had ever asked for one or even had one in the throes of labor (with the exception of Simon's birth which was in a hospital). I was at a 9, and in Eve's words, my cervix was "melting away." I had one more contraction and asked Hailey to go get Will. The two of them snuggled up on the couch. We had had a lot of conversations about labor and birth so that he would know what to expect. He was a little nervous when he heard the sounds I was making, but he was quickly reassured. 

A few minutes after he got settled, I decided to push. I had felt like I could push at any time, but I wanted to really maximize my energy, so I was able to be patient up to that point. I pushed, and felt the baby move down, immediate and apparent progress. I pushed a second time, and I heard Eve say, "You are so good at this," and felt my water break. Immediately after, I felt her head. My favorite part of labor is when I can feel the baby's head with my hands before they are born. It's this beautiful in-between moment when baby is still cozy in my body, but I know I get to meet them soon. Every time it gives me the boost I need to do the hard work of pushing. This time it triggered a sort of exhilarated laugh/sob. Her head was born into my hands. I stood up, Ty physically holding me up, my mom's hands underneath mine, Eve there, guiding and supporting, and she was born. I sank back down into the tub. It was 1:57 am, less than two hours of active labor.

Eve started the pitocin right away, and my mom helped Will come around the tub to see the baby. She was pink immediately and had the best APGARs of all my babies. Will was really concerned about her crying and just wanted her to feel better. I rested in the tub for a bit, and Ty and I toasted the birth with homemade apple cider. We marveled at this perfect little human, obviously the tiniest of our babies and settled on Rosemary for her name, Rosie for short. I was about ready to get out of the tub when she decided she wanted to nurse, so I ended up staying in longer. Will carefully dumped the warm water over Rosie's body to keep her comfortably warm. I had super minimal bleeding which was a huge relief. My membranes took a little longer to come, but Eve was patient and right there with me, and they came fully intact. It was such a relief on the heels of the major issues I experienced after Bea's birth. 

We moved into my room, and I had a nice snuggle in bed with Will and Rosie and Ty. It was such a precious moment. Will was so in love with her. My mom and Hailey made us breakfast sandwiches. I didn't have any tearing, and I felt great. I was able to get up and use the bathroom. We had the infant exam bedside. Will helped Eve every step of the way, and I was grateful all over again for a birth team that truly serves my whole family. We all guessed Rosie's weight, and I guessed exactly right, 7 lbs 3 oz, 20.5 inches. Will got her footprints stamped on his forearms, and he was so proud of his "baby sister tattoo." Eve identified a lip tie and tongue tie, and we decided to see how breastfeeding went before we would decide what to do about those. 

Ty took Will to bed around 4 am despite his insistence that he wasn't tired and could stay up all night to take care of Rosie. Ty convinced him that he needed some rest to take care of her the best that he could. Ty and I settled into bed shortly after that, but I had a hard time falling asleep, and Rosie really just wanted me to hold her, not to be set down. I went back into the living room and was able to debrief and chat with Eve, Kate, and my mom for a little while before Eve and Kate went home to their own families and my mom went to sleep downstairs. 

I had about a half an hour with just Rosie and me as we rocked in the rocking chair, knowing her older siblings would wake up anytime. She is so sweet and so little. I was able to just bask in the gratitude of her safe arrival. When I first heard Will and Simon wake up, I was so excited. I heard Will telling Simon all about the baby. They came running out. Simon and Bea were so excited to meet their baby sister, and Will proudly told them about her birth and showed off his tattoos which Simon and Bea were very jealous of. (Luckily, they got their own baby stamps the next morning at our home visit). Eve came back Monday night and performed a frenectomy to correct Rosie's lip and tongue ties. Then she came back on Tuesday morning to help release her tongue a little more after a rough night of nursing struggles. This was my first experience with any ties, and it has definitely made breastfeeding more difficult and more painful, but it really does feel like a small struggle in the face of all that was beautiful and good and miraculous and healing about this birth. We're so happy to have our sweet baby Rosie earthside.

Beatrice's Birth

At 10 am on January 15th, I decided I would use my breast pump for fifteen minutes to see if any contractions started up. I had had contractions the night before while I was on a walk, but they weren't very strong and stopped when I got home. The 15th was my due date, so I decided to go for it with the pump. At 10:30, my water broke with a gush, soaking my pants. I was having contractions every 4 minutes or so, but they weren't very strong. I called my mom and checked in with the midwife. My mom headed up to our house. Ty and the boys set up the birth pool, and I did some laundry. 

When my mom arrived at our house, we went on a walk to the park. I did some curb walking, and the boys played. My contractions continued, but they didn't seem to be getting much stronger. We got back to our house, and I spent a lot of time on my exercise ball. We called the midwife around 4, mostly because I wanted to listen to the baby's heart rate. Simon had issues with his heart rate in labor, so as soon as we heard her strong heart, I felt reassured. My dad and Hailey got to our house around this time too. My dad was the kid doula, responsible for keeping the boys busy, and Hailey was the photographer. 

We had already filled up the birth pool, and the boys got in for a swim. My contractions had still been steady, but there hadn't been a shift yet, so I figured we had some time. We ordered pizza for dinner. The boys were as rambunctious as ever, and I knew I wouldn't be able to fully relax and give birth until they were in bed. They started a movie with my dad after dinner, and I asked for a vaginal exam. I was dilated to a three after 7 ½ hours of labor, but my cervix was really thin which was encouraging. I wasn't too concerned since I know from past experience that things can change on a dime in labor. Simon's labor was so fast, that I had told my mom that I was hoping for an 8-10 hour labor in order to have a little more time to cope when things were intense. I also only ever went into labor after 2 hours of sleep, so I had prayed that I would be able to get a good night's sleep before the birth which I had the night before. My prayers were being answered. 

While we waited to put Will and Simon to bed, we turned the lights down, and I used the breast pump again, and then Ty and I slow danced for a while. Big hip movements can help the baby have more space to move down, so that was the goal. My contractions started to pick up, and I knew we'd have a baby before morning. I told the boys good night, and Ty put them to bed. Things shifted immediately and got way more intense. I got into the pool and so appreciated the relief the water provided. I knew I was in transition, getting a little longer to catch my breath, joking with my mom and sister between surges, but the contractions were really strong. Ty came out of the boys' room around 8 and came and rubbed my back straight down my spine through each contraction. It was exactly what I needed. I'm so grateful he's my partner. 

The contractions were getting more and more intense, but the sensations were totally different from my last two births. At one point, I decided just to push to see if that gave me some relief. It did! I was surprised because the urge was so different. I pushed through four or five contractions before I could feel her head coming. Ty helped me stand up (part of our plan), and I reached down and felt our baby's head and my mom's hands. It was such a beautiful, encouraging moment. I pushed with the next contraction, and her head was born with her body quick to follow. I lifted her up to my chest and sat down with relief in the tub. It was 9:42 pm, an eleven hour labor.

She was covered in vernix and didn't cry or try to open her eyes. She wasn't putting forth much respiratory effort, so the midwife gave her a few breaths and got her breathing without even taking her out of the tub. I got to snuggle her for a few minutes before we needed to cut her cord and get the placenta delivered since I was bleeding a bit. Ty did some skin to skin while my mom listened to the baby's heart and lungs, and the midwife, Brianna, helped me birth the placenta. The baby needed some help, and I was so grateful that my mom and husband were the ones who could help her. My placenta was super chunky and healthy, but it looked like there were some membranes that were tearing, so Brianna clamped them, and we moved to my bed. We decided her name was Beatrice, and she latched and nursed right away. It was so wonderful to soak her up. The birth was everything I hoped it would be. 

After she finished nursing, I told my mom that I felt like I was bleeding a lot. She and the midwife gave me another shot of pitocin and misoprostol to get my uterus contracting and manage the blood loss. My dad and Ty came in and gave me a blessing in order to help the bleeding stop. I handed Bea off to Ty, and he took her out into the living room. I told everyone I needed to throw up, and Hailey materialized next to me with an emesis bag. The next thing I knew, my mom was telling me that I had passed out. I ended up being treated for shock for the next several hours. I threw up as I came to, but I could tell that Brianna and my mom and the other assistant, Kate, were concerned. We talked about my options, including going to a hospital to get the bleeding under control, a manual removal of the trailing membranes (usually done in a hospital with anesthesia), and trying to void my bladder and see if some more massage of my uterus could remove some more of the clots we were seeing. I really wanted to avoid the hospital. I felt so strongly that I needed to be home when the boys woke up, and after all the trauma of Simon's birth, I couldn't bear the thought of the hospital again. I wanted to try and pee, so I got up with a lot of help and passed out again. 

Honestly, the next bit was a blur. I was out for 45 seconds and came to lying on the bathroom floor. I felt totally out of body and so weak. My ears were ringing, and I was super dizzy. I remember my mom at some point saying that she was texting people asking them to pray. I know Brianna consulted with another midwife about next steps, but those things are super vague and in the periphery of my memory. Brianna told me that I either needed to go to the hospital or that she could manually scrape the inside of my uterus with sterile gauze to remove clots and membranes. I told her to do the manual removal. It was easily the most painful thing I've ever experienced. I could feel myself retreat into my mind into survival mode, and I screamed and cried as Brianna did the procedure, but I was mostly unaware of anything except for the pain. There was a moment when I thought that I might die and leave my sweet babies with their dad. The whole experience was agonizing, and yet I felt shielded and surrounded by angels, a cohort of my grandmothers, protecting me, guiding the midwife, ministering to all of us in this excruciating moment. When it was over, I opened my eyes and realized that everyone was crying. It was a grueling experience for all of us. 

I stayed lying on the bathroom floor for a long while and had some juice. It was clear that my bleeding had slowed way down. The manual extraction had done its job. Kate and Brianna literally lifted me out of the bathroom and onto my carpet so that I could be more comfortable, but my vitals were still in the toilet. My blood pressure was extremely low, and my pulse was racing. I kept feeling dizzy and like I would pass out again, and the birth workers kept taking turns holding my legs up so that the blood was staying with my vital organs. Again, I felt detached from my body. Even though I knew everyone was worried, I felt safe and protected and surrounded by my angels. 

Brianna consulted with another midwife again since my vitals were not stabilizing even though the bleeding had stopped. The senior midwife told her that if she could get an IV placed and I responded well, we wouldn't have to transfer to the hospital. I desperately wanted to avoid a trip to the hospital and everyone was praying Brianna could get the IV in, no easy task with my blood loss and low blood pressure. As she tried to place the IV, I remember wishing I could pass out again. I was so exhausted and in a lot of pain. She couldn't place the IV in either of my arms, and I remember just silently praying that she would be able to find another vein. I couldn't imagine having to call an ambulance at this point after everything that had happened. Brianna tried one more place, my left wrist, and she was sure she had missed, but my mom and Kate realized that the IV fluids were running, and my body was receiving them faster than they had ever seen. It was a miracle. I stayed lying on the floor and received three bags of fluid. My dad went to In-N-Out to get us some food with my main need being to replenish my salt. Ty brought Bea back to me, and Brianna and Hailey each helped her nurse while I was lying there with the IV. I've never felt so depleted or so relieved. I felt so much better with the IV flowing and the food in my system. My vitals were still not great, so after I ate, Brianna piled some blankets on me and turned the lights off. She encouraged me to do some deep breathing and try to calm my body. 

I told Ty to go downstairs to try to sleep, and my mom came in, holding Bea. We were sitting in silence when I heard Simon trying to open his bedroom door. He ran over to me and snuggled up to me on the floor. I have no idea how my kids were able to stay asleep through everything that happened. It was another blessing, and I'm sure there were angels attending them just as there were with me. I snuggled Simon as best I could, and he was oblivious to the craziness of the situation and oblivious to his baby sister until she made a little grunting nose. He sat up and looked at her and released the most delightful little giggle. A few minutes later, Ty came in and got him and took him back to bed. Ty was so tired, he fell asleep at the foot of Simon's bed and slept there for the next four and a half hours until Will woke up at 6:30. 

Once I was through the three bags of fluid, my vitals were stable enough that I could move onto my bed. I was able to use the bathroom easily and nurse Beatrice again. A little while later, Brianna did the infant exam at the foot of my bed and revealed that Bea was 9 lbs 8 oz and 21 ½ inches long. She is my biggest baby by a full pound and a half an inch. Everything checked out for her, and I was so glad. She had been perfectly content with Ty the whole time the birth center team was attending to me. Truly a tender mercy. I can't imagine how much worse it would've been if I had been hearing her cry in the background. After the infant exam, my mom tucked me in for the night, and I got a glorious three and a half hours of sleep before Will woke up. I'm so grateful Bea slept for that stretch. We all definitely needed some rest. 

Introducing the boys to Bea the next morning was nothing short of magical. They are so in love. She is a content, sweet, sleepy, big baby. Will wants to hold her constantly. Simon likes to hold her for a few seconds at a time, but mostly he wants someone else to hold her while he boops her nose and talks to her. We are all smitten. I'm still tired and recovering from the loss of about 1200-1500 ccs of blood as well as the manual extraction of the membranes. It's been a really difficult first week postpartum. I have been so tired and sore. When the midwife saw my hematocrit, she strongly encouraged me to get a blood transfusion which I did one week after the birth. I felt better almost immediately and am so grateful.  

Ty told me afterwards that through everything, he was blessed with a calm assurance that everything was going to be fine. I'm grateful that was the case. I've learned so much from each of my baby's births, and this was obviously no exception. I could compile a mile long list of tender mercies and miracles from this experience. One of the takeaways for me is that God is so mindful of me and my family. We feel grateful and blessed, and I know Beatrice is going to be such a gift in our family just like our other kids are.

A Grinchy Christmas Season

Gingerbread Houses this year

It's been a Grinchy few weeks. I normally love Christmas. I like to deck our halls and listen to holiday music and watch sappy holiday movies for months, but this year I'm having a harder time finding the joy. I always look forward to Christmas. I had all my shopping done by Halloween this year in an effort to focus on being present and joyful and having a shorter to-do list in the month of December.

Then we decided to buy a house. We were supposed to close on December 11th, but the sellers have had some issues, and we're now not going to close until January 8th at the earliest. But for a solid month, we thought we'd be in our first home for Christmas. I leapt into action, packing, purging, organizing. In my productive whirlwind, my children definitely started to feel ignored, so I scaled back, but still worked with a goal in mind, feeling so excited to be in my own home. Then we got the news about the delayed closing, and I was angry.

It was December 4th when we found out everything was delayed. I was upset. My apartment is virtually packed. I have limited kitchen and bathroom stuff out. Most of the toys are packed. My baby is sleeping in a pack n play surrounded by boxes in our extra kitchen. And now that had to be sustained for more than another month instead of a mere week. I was so angry that none of these issues were disclosed. I had felt so led to this house, and now it just wasn't coming together.

I complained to Ty that our Christmas was ruined. Instead of being together as a family in our first home, we are going to be in our tired basement apartment for the third time. There is going to be more snow when we move. We had to change plans with our landlords. It also meant another month without a garage which is kind of a big deal when you’re loading and unloading two small children in the snow. I had just gotten to a peaceful place in my heart about leaving this community I’ve loved so much. I was moving forward instead of being sad about all we're leaving. And then I had to take two steps back.

After I cried and complained, I decided at least I could put up our tree and get out our stockings. I set up the tree, but it wasn't as joyful as some years. I decided not to put ornaments on it since Simon is so grabby and Will discovered that he loves to hide underneath and behind the tree. I went hunting for a stocking for Simon and couldn't find one I loved. We got out our train, but it’s stressful because my kids don’t know how to keep it on the tracks while they play with it. I haven't really been able to do the holiday baking I like to do because so much of my stuff is packed. I haven't had a very good attitude about it.

I got tickets to go to the zoo lights. My kids love the zoo. It’s one of their favorite places, and we’ve never been at Christmastime, so I thought it was a great idea. And the lights were amazing, but Will threw a fit for the first 20 minutes because he didn't want a coat or shoes, and he wanted me to hold him instead of being in the stroller. And even though he cheered up, and Simon loved it, it felt like a slap in the face. I already was feeling far from jolly and my attempt to do something different and fun ended up being a power struggle. (Incidentally, everything is a power struggle with Will these days).

A hard stage with Will combined with a beastly 8 month sleep regression and all the house drama has left me feeling utterly defeated and in a more downtrodden mental state than I’ve experienced in recent memory. This time of year has always been magical for me, especially since I’ve been married. Usually, I’m reminiscing on our courtship and the weeks leading up to our wedding, or I’m remembering when I was “great with child,” waiting for Will to be born. Those were truly beautiful and sacred times that I treasure, and it always has felt poetic that they coincided with the celebration of the Savior’s birth.

This year is a survival mode Christmas I guess, and it hurts my heart to realize that. What I’m realizing this month (again) is that mortal life isn’t always joyful and exciting even though we want it to be. Sometimes we just survive, and that’s okay. I’m still talking to my kids about Jesus. We’re still reading stories together and talking about what gifts we want to give and what our hopes are. We’re still playing “I Spy” everywhere we go, looking for the symbols of Christmas. There’s disappointment here, but there is joy too, and there can be both. So Merry Christmas, everyone. My heart already feels too large and heavy for my chest, so I don’t think I can bear for it to grow three sizes like the Grinch, but I’d settle for a little Christmas miracle to lift my spirits and make things a little less gray and a little more jolly.

Processing Simon's Birth

I'm still trying to process Simon's birth emotionally. It was so far from what I wanted it to be and how I thought it would go that I'm having trouble reconciling feelings of hurt and anger that hit me at unpredictable times. For the most part, I love having a baby. I enjoy the snuggles and the sweet Spirit that accompanies them. I like breastfeeding and rocking them. I like that when they're sad, a lot of times just holding them is all they need. I appreciate that as the mom, I'm usually their favorite human. But this newborn phase has been different in that I'm dealing with pent up feelings surrounding Simon's birth.

Lately I just keep thinking of things that I should have said to the doctors and nurses to advocate for myself and have a birth that at least resembled the birth I wanted to have. Then I'm filled with anger and despair because based on my experience, I'm not convinced anyone would have listened anyway. And I feel defensive and think about how it's really unfair and unrealistic for me to have to be advocating for myself when I was trying to birth a baby which is such an all-consuming process.

Mostly I'm upset that I didn't get to spend the first few hours of Simon's life skin-to-skin with him, soaking up the snuggles. And a secondary frustration is that I don't have any pictures of when I first met him. Our plan was that my sister, Hailey, was going to take pictures of Simon's birth, but when we ended up going to the hospital, she stayed at our apartment with Will until my mother-in-law could get there. There were plenty of people just standing around in the birth room, but none of them took a picture of Ty and I with our brand new baby. My mom, the only person who did take a picture, was anxiously engaged in the birth and couldn't get a picture for a few minutes.

I oscillate between overwhelming anger and profound sadness that leaves me in tears at random and inconvenient times. Thinking about the way my baby was whisked away before we could really enjoy physical connection and bonding makes my heart ache. And the fact that when he was brought back from being suctioned and evaluated, he was wrapped up and no longer available for skin-to-skin makes me angry. I did spend more time doing skin-to-skin later, but it wasn't the same as it would have been right away. I know that from past experience, and I feel robbed. It brings up the constant feeling I had throughout my hospital stay of being disregarded in my wishes and intuition as a mother which was a complete 180 from my experiences with The Birth Center, feeling constantly supported and validated as a human being and mother.

"Love at first sight. I've been looking through birth photos today,
and I just had to share this beauty from when #babywilliamclark
 was only minutes old. I can hardly believe that my heart can open
up to another baby as much as it did for Will, but I know it will.
I already love this new baby so much, and I can't wait to
 have another moment like this."

I came across this Instagram post the other day. Often when I'm nursing Simon, Will climbs into my lap, and we look through pictures from when he was a baby or through past Instagram posts. This post was so full of hope for Simon's birth. Of course it resulted in tears from me and questions from my toddler. Things didn't go the way I hoped.

It's hard to communicate all this when people ask me how I'm doing. I don't mean to minimize the miracles of Simon's birth- there were many. I'm not taking his health for granted. I'm disappointed that his birth and first day of life weren't as peaceful and empowering and beautiful as they could have been, and I know that from experience. I'm grateful once again for the wisdom and understanding of my midwives, one of which said, “Just because having a healthy baby is the most important thing doesn't mean it's the only important thing.” That wisdom has really helped me to have the permission I needed to feel such a wide range of emotions without comparing myself to others or minimizing my experience.

Eve, the midwife who stayed with us through Simon's birth, has been so helpful as I've processed my experience and grieved the loss of the birth I hoped for as well as the loss of the precious first few hours of Simon's life. I'm also grateful for an understanding mom who not only understands and loves me, but also loves and understands birth. I really appreciate friends and family who have let me talk through my experience without judgement as well. I love Simon. I'm so grateful that he arrived safely. I'm glad I have such a strong support system and outstanding postpartum care. I'm going to continue having to process and reconcile experiences with Simon's birth, but I'm grateful to not be doing it alone.

From Only to Oldest

It’s been an amazing month with adding Simon to our family and the adjustment that has entailed. The person who has been affected most directly is obviously Will. For Tyler and I, the adjustment has been pretty smooth. We feel like we have more of a clue as to how to be parents this time around than we did with Will, and that’s been empowering. Of course, having a newborn is always exhausting, but it hasn’t rocked our world the way it did with Will. This could be because Simon is more easy-going than Will, but whatever the reason, adding Simon to our world has been pretty great.

The person who has been most affected has definitely been Will. Going from the center of our world to sharing that space has really rocked his world. Luckily, he hasn’t taken that out on Simon. In fact, he adores Simon. He regularly has meltdown when I won’t let him pick Simon up by himself or hold him every second of every day or wake him up whenever he feels like it.

What Will has struggled with is that I am no longer at his complete disposal all the time. Now that it’s been a month, he’s doing better, but the first two weeks were a serious battle. He was especially jealous when I would nurse Simon. Even though Ty and I were trying to be really intentional about spending one on one time with Will every day, he was still a disaster. He was acting out and being really contrary and having emotional breakdowns at every turn. It was exhausting and frustrating, but my overwhelming feeling was actually sympathy.

Watching Will struggle so much has been the hardest aspect of my postpartum experience this time around. I’ve recovered really well and quickly physically. I haven’t felt depressed or even had the blues. But my heart keeps breaking for Will. It breaks when he asks me if he can nurse or if he can snuggle with me while I’m rocking Simon to sleep. I want to cry when I tell him I’ll help him in a minute and he starts crying and asking for his daddy. It’s been really hard. In a lot of ways, it has felt like having Simon has made me a worse mom to Will.

I know that’s not the reality and that this is a period of adjustment that won’t last forever, but it has been really hard on my mommy heart. In a lot of ways, I miss being Will’s one and only. I miss being able to give all my attention to one little human. I wouldn’t change our life for anything; I love Simon, and I’m so glad he’s here, but I finally understand why people choose to have one child and leave it at that. Both of my boys are important to me and fill my heart-- I just want to be real about the fact that it’s been really hard. I’ve never been so frustrated with Will before, and then I’m angry with myself for being so frustrated with a toddler who is just beginning to learn about emotion regulation and sharing and love and family.

When Simon was born, I thought that I would want to spend the first day just with him and Ty and no one else. I was surprised when, just minutes after Simon’s birth, my thoughts turned to Will. My heart ached for him to be with us. I wanted to snuggle and kiss him and introduce him to his brother. It was almost as hard for me to wait for my mother-in-law to bring Will to the hospital as it was to wait for Simon to be released from the NICU and brought back to me. Each of my boys holds an important place in our family and my heart, and I am so grateful to have them both. I just didn’t realize that my heart was going to feel so bruised while it stretches and grows to find its new normal.

Today, Will wanted to be held all. day. long. It was exhausting. Not only is it physically exhausting to hold a toddler constantly, but it’s emotionally draining to have him pulling on me, asking me to pick him up when I’m trying to keep our household together and take care of an infant on top of addressing Will’s needs. When I was feeling overwhelmed and frustrated this afternoon, I turned on some music, and Will and I ended up waltzing around the kitchen and living room. It started as an effort to stop his whining, and it ended with us giggling and then snuggled up in the rocking chair.

It’s hard for me to take the time to sit down and snuggle with Will. So much of my time lately is dominated by snuggling Simon while I nurse him or put him down for a nap, and when I am not doing one of those things, I don’t really want to be sitting and sharing my body with another tiny person, especially because said tiny person seems to be extremely gifted in the department of smashing his body into the most sensitive parts of my body. I’m glad that I can hold him though. I’m grateful that I don’t have to go back to work following Simon’s birth. I am overwhelmed by the complexity of motherhood and the fact that I can be so full of love that my heart aches and simultaneously want to shut myself in the bathroom and never interact with my toddler again.

I guess that’s life though. It’s beautiful and messy and exhausting and fulfilling. I’m glad this is my life. I just think there is power in transparency, and in the interest of being honest, this has been a really hard transition on the Will front. I’m glad it’s getting better, and it feels like I can see the light at the end of a long, emotionally-fraught tunnel because I really love this crazy, wonderful two-year-old, and I really love being a mom.

What's In His Name?

Simon Robert Johns. This is the name I have been pulling for my whole pregnancy. Ty and i agreed that we'd like to honor Tyler's dad with the middle name this time, but Ty wasn't a fan of the name Simon. He really wanted to go with the name Theodore and call him Teddy, and I wasn't sold on that. It's interesting because Simon wasn't one of my favorites last time.

Around 20 weeks, when we found out we were having another boy, I had the impression that the baby's name was Simon. I talked to Ty about it, but neither one of us wanted to commit before we met our little guy, and he wasn't convinced. Throughout my pregnancy, we talked about different names, but I always felt strongly about Simon. I even picked up a book that was about Simon Rodia, the artist who created Watts Towers, and it just felt like another little nugget leading me to the name.

Really, the reason I love the name Simon is because of Simon Peter in the Bible. I love that Peter changed his name when the Savior asked him to because Peter is constantly changing and improving. Even though Simon is the name he left behind, I just love that connection. I remember studying the New Testament in Seminary in high school and feeling so much love and respect for Peter. He left everything to follow the Savior, and I hope I can raise my Simon to love God and Jesus Christ to that degree as well.

I know people often tell the story of Peter denying the Savior, and my takeaway from that is that everyone makes mistakes and falters. There are several stories in the Bible in which Peter makes a mistake or is chastised, but he always repents and comes back stronger in his testimony which is an example I would love for my children to follow. Peter’s faith in following Jesus by walking on water astounds me. In my estimation, Peter is real. He is a flawed man who did his very best to follow the Savior and was constantly working to be better. Simon Peter is one of my biblical heroes, and I am happy to have a son whose name can reflect that even a little bit.

Additionally, Simon means to listen. I love that image. Will and Simon were very different in the womb, and in just a couple of days it’s clear that they are very different newborns as well. Will was constantly moving in utero. It was like he had a pogo stick or something, and I continually got the impression from him that he was excited about life and full of energy. Simon was more relaxed. His movements felt more like he was just stretching, trying to find a comfortable position. I got the impression that he was going to be more of a listener and more studious than William is. I’m interested to see if that’s how they grow up, but as of right now, Simon is already a much more mellow baby with lower energy than Will has.

Beyond that, Simon's birth taught me a lot about listening. The birth room was so chaotic when I was in labor, but I was able to tune it out and listen to the guidance of the Spirit in order to get Simon here safely. I realized how important it was for me to listen and focus on the spiritual rather than the temporal, and I think that Simon's peaceful nature was a large piece of my ability to listen amidst a storm.

I’m thrilled to have a little boy named Simon Robert. I think it’s a strong name. I think he can grow into it, but I also think it already fits him. My love for him just keeps growing with every moment.

Simon's Birth Story

 

Most people I've talked to in the last little while know that I have been antsy to have my baby for a few weeks. What most people don't know is that I have also had the impression throughout my pregnancy that something intense was going to go down. There was a placental bleed in the first trimester when I thought I was going to miscarry, but even after that resolved, I felt like something was going to go wrong. That's not normal for me. I'm a pretty optimistic person, and I had a normal, low risk pregnancy both times with no red flags. I'm grateful for those impressions so that I was somewhat emotionally prepared for the challenges that came with this birth.

Ty and I planned on a home birth this time, and we were all ready to go. Ty submitted his final project for the semester at 11:59 pm on March 18th (baby's due date), and we went to bed. At 2, I woke up feeling a pretty intense contraction. I didn't want to pay attention too soon, but I couldn't sleep through them, and they were coming every 5-7 minutes. I took a shower and ate a snack, and the contractions stayed consistent. My labor with Will was 18 hours, so I was trying to settle in for the long haul, but things felt so much more intense this time around. I debated about calling my midwife or waiting, and I settled on calling her.

I talked to Eve at 4:30, and then texted my mom and sister to have them head to the house for the birth. Eve got there at 5:15, and Hailey and my mom were about 5 or 10 minutes after that. The first thing Eve did was listen to the baby's heart tones through a few contractions, and it was obvious that there were major decelerations happening at the peak of each contraction. At that point I was dilated to a 6, but baby's heart tones were problematic. We said a prayer together, and Tyler gave me a blessing, and we knew we needed to go to the hospital.

Because we had planned on a home birth, I didn't have a hospital bag packed, so we will threw a few things together and rushed to the hospital which is normally 15 minutes away (it took us 10 to get there). We left Hailey with Will, waiting for Tyler's mom. We got to the hospital at 6:20, and my contractions were consistently getting more intense, and baby's heart rate was still decelerating with each one. Luckily, he was recovering quickly between contractions, but since the most likely problem was a pinching in the cord, he needed to be born. I had progressed to an 8, and at the suggestion of the attending nurse, we decided to break my water.

When the doctor broke my water, there was meconium in it which is another risk factor, and baby really needed to be born now. Unfortunately, the doctors wanted me to labor on my back or side which made the contractions infinitely more painful. I asked if I could move to my hands and knees on the bed, and they didn't really want me to, but I had the strongest impression that I really needed to be on my knees. My mom and Ty and a nurse helped me turn over, and it felt so much better. The contractions were still intense, but I felt like I could cope better. I stayed that way through one contraction, and when the next came, I felt the urge to push, but the Spirit told me to wait. I know that I was only able to progress those last few centimeters because I followed the Spirit and changed positions, and if I had pushed during that contraction, the baby would have been in distress until another contraction had come so I could push him out.

I turned back over to my back at the insistence of the doctors, and when the next contraction came, I pushed three times, and he was born. The cord was wrapped around his head almost like a set of headphones which was why he'd had the decels as he descended. It was so fast and chaotic, but we were all glad that he came quickly and without the need for surgery. It was 7:36 am, barely more than an hour since we had arrived. They set the baby on my chest and worked to get him to cry. He did cry, and I delivered the placenta with no complications and no hemorrhage this time, so that was lovely. Unfortunately, because of the meconium, so he had to go to the NICU for a little while. He was 8 pounds 7 ounces and 21.25 inches long, and his weight was taken after he had pooped a couple of times. He’s almost a full pound heavier and over an inch taller than Will was at birth.

Tyler went with him, and I stayed in labor and delivery with my mom and Hailey and Eve. It was strange not to have my baby or Ty or Will with me. I felt sad without them. Ty and I hadn't agreed on a name, so he was nameless and not with his mama for a couple of hours. We were finally able to visit the NICU after a little while, and baby's respiration was quite good, but there were no doctors or nurses in sight to release him, and I had to get checked in upstairs, so I left my husband and baby again. It was even worse to leave them the second time. Ty finally brought him in when it was 11ish, and I was finally able to breastfeed the baby and talk about names. I'll write another time about the meaning behind his name, but we decided to name him Simon Robert Johns. I love the name and the baby.

We felt good to go at that point, and we wanted a 12 hour discharge, but the pediatrician wouldn't agree to that due to the meconium. We looked over the against medical advice forms, and I really wanted to go home to my own home and bed. The midwives at The Birth Center are always on call, and I felt like we would be in great hands with them. Ty even called our insurance to see if leaving AMA would cause a problem with our claim (it wouldn't). The hospital staff pretty much withdrew care when we mentioned that we might leave earlier than suggested. It was actually nice to have a break from the constant interruptions, but it was also concerning because no one was taking vitals or monitoring anything, and no one ever actually laid out the risks of going home early until Tyler pressed the nurse for an answer. We ultimately decided that I would stay with Simon and my mom would be backup, so Ty could go home and be with Will overnight in order to disrupt his life as little as possible. We felt kind of bullied into staying, and I think we'd have been fine, but Ty is naturally risk averse, and we decided that I might be able to rest better and take better care of Simon without worrying about Will too.

We live so close to the hospital that Ty actually went home and napped for a couple of hours in the afternoon before coming back to the hospital. I was able to nap off and on which was nice, but I think my mom was up for most of 24 hours without rest. She's amazing, and I'm so grateful to have her as part of my birth team and cheerleading section in general. It's been so nice to have her support. So far, Simon has been a much sleepier newborn than his older brother (who seriously never slept), but we still had a tough first night, and I wouldn't have survived without my mom.

Through the night (from about 2 am-4 am), Simon’s respiration rate was high. Because of the meconium in the fluid that puts him at risk for pneumonia if paired with a fever or other symptoms. Simon didn’t have any other symptoms, thank goodness, and by 6 am, his rates were normal and healthy. I wasn’t worried about his respiration through the night because he was crying a lot and was struggling to breastfeed during the times when the nurses were checking his vitals, and that obviously makes the rate higher, but the on call pediatrician didn’t seem to care about circumstances or anything else we had to say. She wanted to keep Simon another 24 hours even though my mom is a birth assistant who has neonatal resuscitation credentials and medical training and was going home with us, and we have access to a midwife who is on call 24/7 who can better support our care since she actually knows us and is willing to come to our house if needed.

As I thought and prayed about it, I felt comfortable with the decision to go home. We had to sign an AMA form, but I was not impressed with the pediatrician. She did not explain any risks we were assuming, nor did she tell us what to look for in Simon as warning signs that we needed to return to the hospital. It was an experience that assured me again that as William and Simon’s parents, Ty and I are the ones who ultimately have the stewardship over their health and well-being. I think it’s too bad that so many doctors are unwilling to really listen to parents or even try to understand their perspective. (I know there are good ones too. I just didn’t happen to come in contact with any through this experience). So we took our baby away from the hospital against medical advice, and I have to say: I feel so much better being at home. Simon is breathing really well. We’ve gotten more rest. Will gets to be with us. And I don’t see any downsides to our decision. I’m so grateful that we have the Spirit to help us make these decisions because otherwise, I think this would have been another depressing day in the hospital rather than a chance to be all together as a family and start recovering from an intense birth.

Overall, our outcomes were good, but this birth was nothing like the home birth I had pictured. It was fast and furious and pure chaos, but Simon has such a sweet and relaxed personality which has made the experience sweeter. The highlight was definitely when Will came to meet his brother. I wasn't sure how much he understood about the baby brother in my belly being an actual human, but as soon as he came in the hospital room, he knew his brother and was enamored with him. He didn't want anyone else to have a turn holding him, and he was so sweet with him. It melted my heart and made the train wreck of the morning worth it.

This was not the birth I wanted or had planned, and that's been hard and emotional, and I'm sad about it which is okay. It doesn't mean I don't love my baby or that I'm not grateful for hospitals and medical professionals, but I'm allowed to be sad, and I am. I'm counting my blessings that Simon is doing well and was born without surgery. I'm humbled that he was released from the NICU relatively quickly. I'm so glad I didn't need an epidural, so I could walk around immediately and feel ready to go right away. Most of all, I'm grateful for constant promptings from the Spirit that brought Simon safely here. My heart is truly overflowing.