Mar 7, 2011 | Baby Photos, Guest Posts, The Parenthood
Foreword side note: I failed to send you guys off to my friend Amanda’s for a Love Song Extravaganza a few days ago! But since I’d just come home from the hospital with a newborn, you forgive me, right?
Amanda’s Musings at Seriously are as delightful as her sweet and refreshingly matter-of-fact personality. Super delightful. Her “Lerve Songs Extravaganza” started with this explanation here, and Hero Hubs and yours truly kicked off the next day with our Top Ten List right here. You can still enjoy good internet content if it’s a few days past the born-on date, right?
So. I am sure many of you would like to hear a detailed explanation of why our baby boy’s name is not Kiwano, or Nathaniel, or any of the other lovely names that were suggested when we asked for help. {I will here interrupt to admit apologetically to dear Laura Anne that Kiwano was never actually up for consideration. Forgive us. 🙂 }
Several of the names you guys suggested were at the top of the list for us — I especially liked Caleb and Ethan. The hubs wasn’t a huge fan of Caleb, and when he #1 discovered that Ethan was one of the most popular names last year and #2 thought about his feelings toward the only Ethan he knows of (actor Ethan Hawke) that name quickly lost favour. I liked Owen a lot too, but the Hubs thinks Owen Wilson is goofy. Bryson or Bryce was on the list for a while, too, I think.
It seemed that we each liked several suggestions, but we never both loved the same suggestion at the same time. There was just some X factor that we were struggling to find. For a while we fancied Lachlan, but since the meaning is “from the land of lochs” and this little one, unlike the Bear, would not be born in Scotland, it just didn’t seem right. Luke was very high on the list for quite some time, and was pretty close to being the one at a few points.
Then one day (very close to d-day) the Hubs said, “What do you think of the name Blake?” I paused to ponder the name, said it aloud and coupled it with our surname, pondered it some more and decided I loved it. Then it dawned on me: the beautiful thing that the Hubs didn’t realise was that Blake was my maternal grandfather’s name. My grandfather, my Mom’s eldest brother, his son, and his son are all Blakes. When I called my Mom to tell her it was on the list and ask her opinion, she was in tears, so we thought it was probably a keeper.
The name has two opposite meanings: fair/pale/bright or dark. As I’ve taken time to consider the multiple meanings, I’ve thought about the instructions of Jesus to be as wise as serpents and as innocent as doves. I pray that in the years to come this little one will have the wisdom to appropriately navigate whatever might come his way. And may he live as a bright and shining light for Jesus!
His middle name, for those of you who might not know, is my maiden name, and this choice was also Hero Hubs’ suggestion. The Bear carries his grandfather’s name and of course the paternal surname, so HH liked the idea of connecting this little one to the maternal side of the family. The most common meaning I’ve found for Darrow has been wielder of the spear. We pray that this little one would indeed fight the good fight of faith for the kingdom of God.
But more than just focusing on the specific meaning of the name, as I have felt a tendency to do in these forty-plus weeks, I’ve also been stirred to consider the bigger picture, the greater story. A grandfather I never had the privilege of meeting, another I knew very little of — they are both a part of the story of this child. His Dad who looked up on a sunny afternoon with a name in his heart, my Mom who wept over Skype as I whispered the possibility — this little Blake is part of a story that goes back and back and back, and will hopefully stretch forward and forward and forward. The lives we are given are an invitation to be a part of the life that has already been happening, since the Creator of the Universe first said Let there be and there was.
And into this family, this place, this time, in God’s perfect timing, this stanza in the symphony of life has begun to play its notes. With crescendo and decrescendo, pauses and rests and refrains, this one’s opportunity, this one’s moment, this one’s song has begun. Overjoyed to be on this side of the prelude, we hear the soft and sweet first notes and rejoice.
A Blake by any other name would probably be as sweet…but we find joy in welcoming him into our song and our story.
xCC
Mar 5, 2011 | The Parenthood
It was six days past due date and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not the Bear or a mouse.
The hospital bags were packed tidy and near, in hopes that Baby Brother soon would be here.
I awoke with discomfort at ten minutes to three, with cramping contractions and a strong urge to wee…
Do you really want me to keep this up? I think that’s enough.
As the story continues, at a few minutes before 3 am, on the 24th of February to be precise, Hero Hubs came to join me in the bathroom, and we started timing contractions. They were all over the show and inconsistent, so we thought we probably had a decent amount of time and didn’t need to be in a rush.
Based on how long and laborious the Bear’s labour was, we’d planned on showering and slowly making our way to the hospital. {Big mistake.} I decided to skip the shower because it felt like things were beginning to pick up, so I washed my face and started to put on make up and HH shaved and showered. I attempted to time contractions with the stop watch and lap function on his phone, but I was a little too frantic to do so when they arrived… another ten minutes, and they were suddenly coming hard and fast.
My dear husband returned from the shower to find me stressed and in the middle of a contraction. I’d only managed to put on foundation. He encouraged me to count to thirty (a technique which seems to help with the passing of each contraction because the pain usually peaks and won’t get worse after thirty seconds) and I promptly replied by telling him I couldn’t count to thirty. I may have interjected an expletive at this point, but we can’t be sure.
I think there is a special dispensation of grace for the things that might come out of ladies’ mouths whilst in labour. But the use of the expletive, along with the end of makeup application, confirmed for HH that this was actually labour and not a false alarm.
As the contractions continued, things began to get serious. I couldn’t walk around to go and get things together — they were coming so close together and so strong, I constantly felt the urge to go back to the bathroom and sit down. HH alerted Agnes that I was in labour and, being instructed to get dressed, I pulled on a black dress for some reason.
I made my way downstairs and suddenly the waters of life were a-flowing — I hurried to the loo again and by this time was beginning to feel back pain and lots of pressure. I felt like I’d soon be wanting to push, which made me panicky. Everything was happening way faster than we expected and I was not sure what to do. The contractions were so strong I was crying out in pain, even though I really wanted to be quiet and not wake the Bear.
Having gathered everything up, HH came downstairs to find me in a frantic state:
“This baby is coming!”
I heard myself exclaim, and in the back of my mind I heard my Mom saying the same thing to the nurses a little less than three decades ago as she arrived at the hospital. {I was born seven minutes later.}
I interject here to say I am not a feminist. I am very thankful when men choose to take charge in hectic situations, like they did when the Titanic was sinking and mostly women and children survived. (James Cameron got it all wrong.) Let’s resume.
Hero Hubs took charge. He instructed Agnes to help me back upstairs so that I could lay down on our bed. I got there and he was right behind me. He checked to see if the baby was crowning. He’d thought through the amount of time it would take an ambulance to arrive to deliver the baby or get me to the hospital, and decided that it would be faster to get in the car and go. I thought about the distance to Mr. Potato Head, our oddly-shaped car sitting in the parking garage downstairs.
The baby wasn’t crowning. “Let’s go to the hospital. I can get you there fast honey. If you feel the urge to push, just don’t. Let’s go now.”
The next thing I remember we were back downstairs, HH and Agnes having gathered up the hospital bags, my purse, our camera, etc., and me standing by the door with a towel to catch the water. By this point contractions were predictable: coming fast, enduring, painful.
I looked at Agnes and said, “This is like a TV birth. This is just crazy.”
We rushed to the elevator — well, HH and Agnes rushed and I got there as quickly as I could. I remember feeling badly that Agnes was carrying so much and I wasn’t carrying anything. In a moment we were in the parking garage and the bags were in. I stared at the car because I was leaking and didn’t want to get in. HH hurried me into the passenger seat and we were out of the gate and on our way.
I was sitting on a couple of towels, but I could still feel the waters moving — baptizing Mr. Potato Head’s floor in front of the passenger seat. Fortunately it was more of a christening.
We were on the road, and I was in prayer. The last contractions before we left home were so strong I wanted to push at the end of them, so I began to pray that the next contraction would pass me by, without me feeling that incredibly strong urge to push and having to simultaneously somehow stop myself. I was thinking about the Passover and the Israelites in Egypt and praying “Lord please let this pass me by. Lord, please let this pass me by.” ad infinitum.
God met me in the passenger seat of Mr. Potato Head, and the first contraction I should’ve had, based on how far apart they were coming, passed me by. I was quiet and at peace and kept praying as we turned onto the N2.
A few minutes later we neared our exit and the next contraction came. HH counted to thirty as we rounded the off ramp — Potato’s tires squealed with excitement. The contraction was painful but I didn’t feel the need to push. I was thankful.
We left home at 4:04 am, and the twenty kilometre trip should’ve taken about as many minutes, but we arrived in the parking lot at 4:12. Average speed: 150 kilometres (100 miles) per hour.
We screeched into a closed reception area and circled around to the Emergency Room entrance. The gentleman standing guard outside immediately knew what was happening and coded something into a keypad, and suddenly four people were there to help me out of the car and into a wheelchair. I didn’t want to sit in the wheelchair because I was so wet and leaky but someone had brought a blanket and so I sat down.
While HH backed into a parking space and grabbed our bags, I was wheeled through to the labour ward as fast as the orderly could go. Another contraction came and I asked him to count to thirty for me. He laughed and obliged me by gently counting as we sped through the halls. While I grimaced under the pressure, I worried about my dear Hubs being able to find me.
A moment later, I was wheeled into the delivery room and I remember looking around as I crossed the threshold, taking a deep breath and thinking, “This is where I’m going to have this baby.” I was happy about that.
Another moment passed and I was up on the bed with two midwives in attendance when HH rushed in and dropped our bags. My black dress was a convenient choice: there was no time for pain medicine or changing clothes or anything else. The baby was crowning and there was only time to push.
I don’t remember another contraction. I don’t remember having a moment to breathe. I just remember giving three good pushes. With the first, Blake’s head was out, and the umbilical cord needed to be loosed from around his neck. With the second, the shoulders were stuck for a moment. With the third, the shoulders followed, and in an indescribable feeling — familiar from the Bear’s delivery and like no other — pain and joy meet, life flows and you suddenly know: This is a beginning. This is life. This is amazing. Ouch, hallelujah.
At 4:21 am — nine minutes after Mr. Potato Head pulled into the hospital parking lot — Blake’s life on the outside began.
For a million reasons which I hope to share on another day, six days past his due date at four in the morning was absolutely perfect timing.
xCC
Mar 3, 2011 | Baby Photos, The Parenthood
I am halfway through the typing out of the labour story. Actually, knowing how long I take to get through a story I might not quite be halfway yet. But I promise it’s coming. Hopefully tomorrow.
In the meantime, I thought you might be happy for me to peek my head into the blogosphere again to let you know that Baby Blake is doing exceeding and abundantly well. He had a vaccination yesterday. He cried ever-so-briefly, and I managed not to cry. {Probably because I remembered when we walked home from the Bear’s first vaccinations in Edinburgh — he was fine and I was crying — and decided not to watch, and instead prepared to nurse him happy afterwards.}
Like most wee tykes, he lost a few grams in those first days of life, but was already gaining weight again by the time we left hospital. Yesterday at the vaccination he weighed a good 200 grams (7 oz.) above his birth weight. I felt like a super mom and HH bought me a celebratory cappuccino muffin on the way home.
We also had a couple of great nights of sleep last night and the night before…after a late evening (10:30ish) feed, he just woke us once for a good feed at 3 am, and then we all enjoyed sleeping until 6 or 7. Please let this continue…
As the Bear would put it, we’re excited to be wishing Blakey a Happy Birdie! Well done on a stellar first week on the outside!
Happy Birdie, Blakey!
And in case you’re wondering how the Bear is handling all the Baby Change around here…
We think our little superhero big brother is doing just fine.
xCC
Mar 1, 2011 | Baby Photos, The Parenthood
Wow, you guys. Blessed and thankful are two words that don’t even barely begin to describe how I feel about this little guy that we’ve been graced with. But those words will have to do because limited sleep and an aching body tend to limit my capability of thinking of words more profound than amazing and wonderful. What an incredible gift.
Blake is doing amazingly well, settling in to life in our family. We came home from the hospital on Saturday, much to the Bear’s delight. It is really great to get started and begin to find our rhythm as a family of four.
Thanks in part to a little bit of experience, a lot of helping hands, and answered prayer, this beginning seems to be so much easier than the Bear’s. Blake is already nursing very well and I’m looking forward to finding out how much he weighs when we’re at the hospital for a vaccination tomorrow. {Did I tell you the nurses were calling him “Fatty” and he was the biggest baby in the ward while we were there?} He also gave us a couple of good stretches of sleep in the night last night — about three hours once and two and a half the next round. Score!
HH’s folks arrived on Sunday and you know the special place in my heart that gets touched when I see grandparents with their grandchildren. It is just so, so lovely. We are really glad they’re here. More on that later.
The Bear is handling the transition, although I think the upheaval of our “normal” life and schedule have been a bit of a challenge — he has started to use some faces and display some attitudes that my mother-in-love says are very much the manners of a two-year-old. He is slowly but surely learning the new normal. He liked coming to visit me in the hospital but didn’t like it when he realised he was leaving again and I wasn’t. Along with appropriate discipline, he is getting extra bedtime stories, extra treats, extra attention and extra love. Grace for a Bear in transition.
He finds Baby Brother interesting and would like to give him toys (which we have to advise against at this stage, of course) and is happy to give him a wave and an occasional kiss. And he thinks baby brother’s belly button (the part that hasn’t come off yet from the umbilical cord) looks like poo poo. Very disturbing to the Bear.
Hero Hubs, who just last night was busy calculating his average speed on the way to the hospital Thursday morning, is more of a hero every day. The laundry is done and things are moving along and getting done around the house (of course with the help of Agnes, and especially HH’s Mom who is cooking meals!) and he is still helping (as much as you’re able to when you’re not lactating) day and night to keep our baby boy happy and help me though it all. I’m so thankful for him I get teary.
And, finally, I am a very happy mother of two. I’ve been taking regular pauses for thankfulness that regularly bring me to tears — partly because I’m overwhelmed with these blessings, partly because giving birth and starting to nurse a little one are some great ways to take your hormones for a spin. I’m opening this little MacBook for the first time in many-a-day and for those of you who know me, that’s a significant point of interest. Resting and recovering from the (slightly traumatic) speedy delivery has taken priority. I trust you guys have patience for me!
I can’t wait to share more photos and especially share the labour story when I have a moment to sit still and type it out. “How to Have a Baby in 60 minutes or Less” and “My TV Birth Story” are appropriate titles I’ve been pondering. 🙂
Thank you so much for the encouragement, the sweet wishes and the congratulations. This grace-filled and peaceful transition is an answer to so many prayers — many thanks to many of you for praying them!
More soon!
xCC
Feb 25, 2011 | Baby Photos, The Parenthood
Although I don’t have the energy to type out a detailed update or labour story for you just yet, I do have the energy to share some photos of this amazing little guy that has finally graced us with his presence on the outside!
Here’s Blake!
Just as we expected, God’s perfect timing in every detail.
Your sweet comments and congrats have been wonderful, friends. {HH was afraid my Facebook was going to break when I opened it. I’ve never had 44 comments on a status update before!} Thank you for celebrating with us!
Can’t wait to share the stories with you guys! Joy!
xCC
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