Meet Moses

I acknowledge I re-entered this blog without much explanation. Where have I been, what's been going on, how has life changed the past year plus? Well...how long do you have?
But honestly... I have always seen this space as a safe space to write. Whether silly vents about tech support and pre-popping (see posts from 2008/2009) to heartache, joys, musings and even makeup recommendations, I've always just shared from where I've been at. Sometimes, it's helpful to dig in the past and recount memories and maybe see them with fresh eyes. I've shared about both my girls' births as well as my miscarriage.
So today, I want to tell you about Moses. And maybe do a quick recap of the past year or so.
We found out we were having a baby in October of last year. We were so excited.  It was all intense fatigue, hunger, unsettled stomach, the works. It was a mix between Sabine and Penelope's pregnancies but seemed worse in some ways, yet not worse in the food aversions department which Sabine won at. I lived off of gluten-free pretzels and eggs. Around the end of November, we bought our house and moved. I never dreamed we'd really find a place of our own and move before we'd been in Texas a year but we did and, despite the stress and chaos of moving over the holidays and the hell that is packing and unpacking and losing half your possessions in the process, it has been good. We have a special little house in a special little neighborhood.
When it was time, we went in for our anatomy ultrasound for baby and lo and behold...it was a BOY. To say we were shocked is not close to doing it justice. I was just settled on girls. There's some urban legend out there about Prowler guys not being able to produce boys due to the radiation in the yadayadayada...and so after two girls, I was just mentally in girl-mode. I was excited to have another daughter, as was John. But...deep down, both of us had this little "what if?" dream/hope. And when the technician casually said it was a boy, I seriously thought I'd heard wrong! We were giddy with surprise and excitement and I felt like I had to go through an entire mental shift. A BOY?? What are boys like? I kind of freaked myself out and it became an area of worry. Silly, I know. Would I be a good boy mom? Would I be able to connect with him in the same way? These were real concerns but they almost make me laugh writing them out now.
The girls were split by the revelation. Sabine was kind of stuck on girl for awhile, not really understanding that, no, really, it's actually a boy and it's kind of a done deal. And Penelope somehow had known it would be a boy, just like she had known Sabine would be a girl, despite our own guesses both times.
He was due July 2nd. Everyone said, "Maybe he'll be a July 4th baby!" And with John being a Marine, I thought, "Yeah, maybe!" Patriotic, right? But deep down it didn't feel right. I finally realized as the 4th came and went that if this was really MY son, he would want to do things his own way and in his own time. Bingo. Well, I've never gone past my due date in a pregnancy. July 5th came and let me tell you, it starts to mess with your head. You're SO pregnant and SO done and we're in a TEXAN SUMMER. So...you guys. Y'ALL. It was getting to me. I kept having false labor and then it would stop. I'd excitedly go to the chiro and then...nothing. I had an appointment with my midwives the afternoon of the 5th and after a day of vague contractions, I decided to take along my mom and John in case I needed to be admitted at my appointment. Insert the chaos of getting as much ready as possible and the girls watched by a friend. Long story short, nada. I was dilated a little...but still not enough and the contractions had stopped. I finally opted to have my membranes swept...which I will never again choose to do unless I am facing an induction or C-section. So unpleasant. After lingering near the hospital for a bit, we headed home. I was disappointed and felt like it was so close but...not quite. Around 11pm, my doula had just texted me to get some rest. I laid down...and BAM. SHOW TIME! Real, painful, regular contractions began. I took a bath right away to make sure it was real and they didn't stop. They held strong for an hour so I woke John up. Insert repeat of the hustle to get out the door, plus MAJOR contractions. The ride there was a blur of pain and transition and riding in a car feeling ALL WRONG but with no other choice. John took a wrong turn and when we got to the hospital, we entered the wrong way and were facing a "do not enter" sign. He hesitated and then I yelled, "Do a U-turn!! I'm in labor!! I don't care if a cop stops us!!" We snagged the "stork" temporary parking and went in. We forgot that arriving after midnight meant we had to enter in a different door so that meant walking which I was in no position to do so we hunted down a wheelchair (amid much profanity and pausing to breathe through contractions). One wrong floor trip later (and more swearing) and we got to labor and delivery! We got to our room and I told John to go ahead and park the car. My mom was there, my doula arrived within 5 minutes and they checked my vitals. We had planned to try a water birth but immediately that changed when my blood pressure was high. Like...REALLY high. I was immediately laid on my side and I couldn't get up to labor until they gave me the okay. This was THE MOST DIFFICULT THING. Because I'm a very active laborer and laying on your back or side is a very unfavorable position to labor in, especially with how intense it was at that point. While John was still gone, I felt an expansion and heard an audible pop...my water broke! Angelia my doula was an amazing mental and emotional support since I could not move. She helped me mentally focus during each contraction and get over it. It's hard to explain but I felt able to distinguish the sensation of contractions as extreme discomfort rather than "ouch" pain. Not that it's less than actual pain. It's just...on a completely different register, if that makes sense.
My mom was there during labor for the first time and I knew it must have been exciting to meet her first grandboy but difficult to see me that way.
John got back and I began to feel the urge to push within a couple of minutes. I had been at 7cm when we arrived and not fully efaced so I didn't think my body was ready but when my body began to involuntarily push, nobody told me to stop. During one contraction though, it peaked and I remember hearing the heart monitor for baby slow and stop. There was an eternal moment of silence I'll never forget. John and my Mom were unaware of it but I understood it. I felt the tense silent energy of my midwife, doula, and nurses. I understood even more when my midwife calmly but firmly said, "Okay, Rachel, I'm going to need you to push this baby out. NOW." I had hoped to take my time pushing and do so as gently as possible due to my past medical issues with prolapse but obviously, the safety of my child changes everything. I bore down and Angelia instructed me so I'd push most efficiently. The contraction ended and his heartbeat returned. John was near my head and I asked him between contractions if he was going to deliver. I don't think he realized how close we were! He quickly gloved up and the nurses and my midwife Summer were thrilled he wanted to. Within a couple pushes, he caught our son, Moses John Edward.
That moment, when your baby is placed on you for the first time, is always dream-like. Literally. Every time, it has felt like I'm waking up and I struggle to take it all in; the still-there pain of labor wrapping things up and afterbirth, the impossible softness of your newborn's skin amid the stickiness, the rustling sounds around you and sensations as your body is possibly mended, possibly injected, pressed and massaged (not in a good way) and all the involuntaries...heat, the shakes from lingering transition, jittering cold, exhaustion. I always expect to cry tears of joy but can't. Those come later. Now, all I can do is try not to think too much and try to memorize this new little person. This perfect little person that is all mine. He measured 20.5 inches and was 8 lbs 3 oz. As the nurses and my midwife wrapped things up, I did something I've never done before. I asked to see my placenta. I've never seen one in real life, never wanted to, always asked not to see it. But this time I had a curiosity and my midwife was delighted to show me the organ that essentially kept my baby alive for so long. My mom and I thought it was so fascinating. And I couldn't help but feel a weird pride that my body had MADE that and miraculously, just like that, we didn't need it anymore. It's insane if you really think about it.
Back to Moses...his labor was 2.5 hours long total (INSANITY) and he arrived on July 6th, 4 days "late" but right on time. Unlike Sabine, he immediately looked SO different to me! Slowly, I began to see similarities to his sisters but there's something about him that is all his own.
Even as I write this and nurse him to sleep, I just want to rock him forever. He is the joy in my heart and the constant brightening of the day. He is so very boyish and bashful and beautiful. He has lashes for days and the warm-hearted temperament of a teddy bear. I just want him to slow down though because it goes by faster with each baby and all of a sudden he's rolling and laughing and sitting up and being a BIG boy and all I want to do is snuggle him up and have him look at me the way he does...until the end of my days.
And as joyfully content as John was with daughters...there is something so very special about a dad with his son. Moses is drawn to me for obvious reasons (milk money)...but near the end of the day, often times he starts getting fussy and we find that usually all he really needs is a little time with Daddy.
And the girls? Oh the girls. Penelope and Sabine were and are smitten. They love to help with Moses and make him laugh and they are constantly mothering him. For now, he loves it. Penelope has picked up right where she left off the last time there was a baby in the house. Sabine has settled into the Big Sister Role in her own little way and she does so well with him and adores him so much. They both do.
And being a boy mom feels so right. Nothing was missing...until he came. God had been working on my heart so gently for so long, getting ready for this moment. And it's like holding the son I will see someday in heaven. No, nothing was missing. And then he came. Then it's like we can see the nice little spot in our hearts where he fits perfectly, a space that was always meant for him. I remember realizing during one of the early days after he came home, that I might have a mother-of-the-groom dance with him someday...which I'd never thought about before. And it was the best realization.
Moses, we love you and are so glad you came to be ours.