And Then There Were Four

I always like to read friends' birth stories, and I have a terrible memory, so I want to put my 4th on "paper."  Monday, March 19th was a pretty normal day for us.  Since Steve wasn't home, I got up with the kids and made breakfast before we did our little morning routine.  I was determined to get through our school day, because at 36 weeks pregnant my goal was to do as much school as possible before our new baby arrived.  In the afternoon Caroline (a dear friend from church who was staying with us) offered to watch the kids so I could run out and test drive a new van.  Our evening was totally normal and around 10pm I was getting ready for bed.  I turned the light off and got into bed, then I felt something odd.  My thought was that my water broke or I had slightly lost bladder control.  I was incorrect on both; I was bleeding.  I think my first thought was, "What does blood mean?"  I called my really good friend Keren who has birthed 6 children, her advice was to wait a little bit and call the doctor if the bleeding didn't stop or was severe.
For the next couple hours I slept a little, waking and seeing more blood.  At 1am I knew it was time to call the hospital.  Because we have military medicine I don't have a doctor of my own, but I was in the midwife program so I paged the midwife.  She called right back and encouraged me to come right in, even if it meant wrapping up my other children and bringing them with me.  She said the amount of blood could mean nothing, but could also be a very dangerous sign.  Honestly, though I was a little shaken for the health of my baby boy, I was sure they would check me and then send me home.
I arrived at the hospital with my wallet and a dying cell phone.  The midwife checked and I was dilated at 2cm with no other labor signs.  The ultrasound didn't show a problem, but she assumed my placenta was pulling away from the wall of the uterus. She told me that she thought I should be admitted and labor induced.  I felt like I had just been told the world was really flat instead of round.  I do not have early babies, I do not have babies THREE WEEKS early.  My husband was due to fly home on April 3rd, leave had been granted for him to leave his deployed submarine to spend a few weeks with us.  My parents were due to fly in April 12th, the day after my due date.  I had no bag packed.  I had no bassinet, no playpen set up, no swing, no bouncy seat, no bottles or formula (which I've needed for each baby) and NO clean house to bring a new baby home to!  I didn't just feel unprepared, I WAS unprepared.  As they admitted me I still thought I might go home, I even asked the nurse how often people are admitted and then go home without having the baby.  She kinda laughed at me and said it didn't happen.
At around 5am I called my Mom and Keren.  The attending OB resident had seen me and said she wanted to begin an induction.  Her other option was for me to remain at the hospital and be monitored; they would not advise me to go home, the danger was too great.  I had also been transferred away from the midwife because we were now "high risk."  My Mom was amazing, she cried with me and told me to do what was best for Charlie.  She said she would talk to my Dad and see if they couldn't change their flights and leave right away.  I wasn't expecting them to do that, but words cannot express how glad I am that they did.  Later, she handed me an outfit for Charlie and told me that as soon as we had gotten off the phone she began to lay her hands on it and pray over his safety and mine.
My pastor's wife and dear friend Keren had similar advice; I should do what was best for Charlie.  She also promised to be there as soon as she could.  She began getting the word out about my being in the hospital and our fellowship began to pray.  She came by the house to pick up clothes and things for me and to make sure Caroline and the kids had everything they needed.  Keren arrived at the hospital at around 10am on Tuesday morning and didn't go home for almost 24 hours.
Almost as soon as the induction began the shift at the hospital changed and I was now in the care of a new nurse and ob resident.  The next 12 hours were slow and steady.  I was out of bed, moving around or sitting on a birthing ball.  The contractions weren't strong or too painful, so my friends and I passed the time pretty easily.  Keren had brought fruit and some snacks with her and I hungrily ate as I hadn't had a meal since Monday night and the doctor did not want me to eat.  At 6pm, 12 hours after the induction began, I was dilated to 4cm, and that was only because a balloon thing was used.  The ob resident thought we should stop pitocin for an hour and then begin again, maybe a jump start would help the process.  I agreed on the caveat that I could have a meal and a shower. 
At 7pm the same resident from the morning came back on duty and she was NOT pleased with my lack of progress.  My nurse also changed and the new nurse was not at all someone I would want again.  The new ob team wanted to be much more aggressive; they wanted to break my water and give more pitocin more often.  What could I do but go forward?  I do remember saying that Steve would not have liked this new doctor!  So they broke my water and when she checked me again she felt Charlie's arm up over his head.  This posed a real problem.  She said I could deliver naturally this way, but it would be much more difficult.  The other problem was that if she tried to move his arm, which was keeping his head from engaging the cervix, that the cord could slip down and then we would have an emergency.  In the end she did try to move his arm.
One word, excruciating.
After that I asked for the epidural.  The hours of Tuesday night came and went with very little change.  I think I went from 4cm to 5cm over 7 hours.  Charlie's arm was still a problem and the doctor tried to move it again with little success.  I remember sleeping some; the epidural took too well in my right leg and not so well in the left so I had a terrible feeling in my legs.  One was so weirdly numb and dead, the other could feel some of the pain from the contractions.  As far as my emotional state through all of this, I remember moments of fun and laughter with my friends, pain of not having Steve there with me, and an overall sense that God was in control.
The next morning rolled around and with it a shift change again.  It must be said that having one's own doctor who has one plan during the whole process is greatly to be desired!  At this point I was given back to the hands of the midwife, and with a new and amazing nurse I was feeling hope.  It was really emotionally and mentally exhausting to know I was barely half-way there and 24 hours had come and gone.
The one constant, through all the doctors, nurses, bags of fluid, epidural, concerns, was Charlie.  He was, by the grace of God, as happy as a clam.  Not once did his heart rate actually fluctuate, even with the belly monitor which usually needs constant adjustment.  For almost 36 hours his heart rate was steady.  SO amazing!
Toward mid-morning I began to finally lose control.  The total exhaustion of mind, body and spirit had taken its toll.  I had pretty severe pain in my left side from the contractions; the tears were flowing and all I wanted was a C-section.  My friends, Dorida and Laura, who where there with me, came over and began to pray.  I knew that I had to hold on as long as Charlie did, as long as his heart rate stayed healthy I had to press on with labor.  In answer to prayer, when the midwife checked me I had progressed to 8cm!  She did recommend a new epidural, and I agreed to once again sit as still as possible and pray over the steady hand putting a needle into my spine.
VERY soon after the new epidural went in I was ready to push.  I'm pretty sure I only pushed three times and Charlie was there.  Once delivered he was put directly on my chest, which was new for me.  The deep pain of not having Steve next to me was contrasted with pure joy of holding my son and speaking words of truth into his ear in his Daddy's stead, "Jesus is Lord."  I held Charlie for over an hour before they took him to the nearby area for his checkup and first bath.  My fourth child was born March 21, 2012 at 12:36pm, weighing 6.6lb and 20.5in.

A Day of Moments

I recently heard that the question, "How was your day?" is the question most people desire to be asked.  Interesting, isn't it?  We just want someone to care about our day, a place where we can lay it all down and move on into tomorrow.  So, I'm pretending that someone has just asked me, "JoAnne, how was your day?"

My day, oh my day!  It began so well, the first moments were great.  I was up early with cup of coffee and my Bible, my journal and my "The Power of a Praying Wife" book.  I had a blessed time of reading, praying, and journaling.  It has really been a while since I've had the hour before sunrise to myself like that.  The girls woke up first; Genevieve naked and all smiles, and Elizabeth wearing her brother's batman pajamas, a bit cranky and cold.  My girls usually wake up this way.  We had a sweet moment of cuddling on the love seat before Charlie woke up.  As I nursed him, Elizabeth asked me to read from their Children's Encyclopedia.  I had a fun moment of demonstrating the rotation of the Earth to them.
After breakfast my friend Caroline offered to watch the kids while I went for my daily run.  I took Stevie in the Bob stroller and we started out.  It was a beautiful, windy, cool morning.  About 15 minutes into it I saw something that reminded me of Genna's art class.  I had forgotten Genna's art class!  As I ran home I was so frustrated with myself.  Yesterday we almost missed a housing appointment.  Get it together, JoAnne!  Well we made it to art and back, whew!
I made the kids a snack and while eating a pear Elizabeth lost her first tooth!  I couldn't believe how quickly my little girl was growing up.  She really wanted to be able to tell her Dad, and he happened to call soon after that!  It was great to be able to share the news with him.
As the afternoon went on my day got really difficult.  Stevie wouldn't take a nap, Charlie was crying a lot and I just couldn't figure out why.  All of this distracted me from the girls so they weren't doing their school work.  I felt like I had needs popping up all around me and I couldn't meet them all.  Finally I got Stevie to go down, but Charlie was still crying.  I gave up.  The girls were kind of doing work but I just took Charlie upstairs and got into bed with him.  We both fell asleep.
At some point Elizabeth brought me my phone, covered in gunk from her fingers, telling me someone had called.  Yuck.  It had been plugged in to charge, oh well.  I went back to sleep and Caroline took the girls to the beach encouraging me to come out if I had the energy.
The phone rang, what do you know I had it next to me, it was Steve.  To hear his voice at that moment was like flowers on a bad day.  We shared our rough days with each other, but it couldn't be the same.  I think my favorite part of the day is when Steve comes home and we are able to share, unload the burden of thoughts, feelings, hurts, all things deeply personal, with each other.  Though it wasn't the same as having him home, I was so thankful to get this unexpected call.
The burden of my day was unloaded, but I now had the burden of my dearest one's heart.  I so hate not being with him.  What should I do?  Stevie was waking up, crying and cranky, and Charlie needed to eat soon.  Caroline's encouragement to come out to the beach was on my mind.  Should I, could I?

I did.  The boys and I loaded up and drove out to beautiful waters and the setting sun.  The last moments of my day have been good: praying for my husband, sharing a meal with my family, bathing my rascally toddler, cuddling, singing, reading, kisses good night.

So, how was your day? 

Life Overwhelming

I am amazed at how much time has passed since I last blogged.  I wonder if I'll ever be able to recapture the memories of the last five weeks.  The reason I am sitting here now is because I know the experiences of those last weeks have taught me so much and I don't want to forget.  For a VERY brief overview, here is what has happened:

• My husband deployed in February.
• The engine in our "new" minivan died.
• My fourth child, due to arrive April 11th, was born March 21st, three weeks early.
• An amazing woman of God, Caroline, was staying with us and watched the kids while I was at the hospital.
• My parents dropped everything, changed their flights, and flew in to Honolulu within 36 hours of my calling to tell them Charlie was on his way.
• My dear friends, with families of their own, dropped everything to be at the hospital with me, for a very long 36 hours.
• With the help of my Dad, I bought a new 2012 Toyota Sienna.
• Those in charge of Steve's sub decided that he did not need to fly home since the baby was born and we were both doing well.

What I want to say as I look back over the time that has gone by, is how overwhelming the presence of God has been for me.  If anyone had told me in February exactly what we were about to endure, I would have said, "No, I cannot possibly bear that."  The truth is, I am not really bearing the weight of all that has happened.  From the first bullet point to the last (as goofy as that sounds), I have felt the tangible presence of Jesus in our lives.  When the car died, we were provided with free transportation, for many weeks.  When I began to bleed and needed to go to the hospital at am, a woman my children knew and loved was already staying with us to care for them when they woke up.  When I called my Mom, scared and confused as to what to do, the Spirit guided her words and allowed her and my Dad to jump on an airplane.  Within hours, countless people knew I was in the hospital and began to pray for our safety.  At the birth of my son, women who loved me and have been sisters in Christ for years were there to help through the most difficult labor I've endured.  We have experienced an outpouring of love in the form of phone calls, emails, meals, gifts, cards, shopping trips, encouraging words, and prayers.  When my parents left after their two week trip, the Lord provided the same friend to stay with us and help for two more weeks.  These people are more than supportive, they are the hands and feet of Jesus bringing His love into our world.  We have been overwhelmed by Him.

Love/Hate Relationship

One of the hardest things about being a submariner's wife is the silence. I haven't heard my husband's voice in over a month. I haven't seen his face on a video screen. The one blessing is e-mail, and as of today it has been two weeks since I've gotten one from Steve. It certainly could be worse, before the days of email families were allowed to send 6, 200 character "family grams" during deployment. How insane is that? But that thought doesn't cross my mind too often. What I think of most is how much I want an email. So my cell phone is constantly at my side, and any time I hear the little signal that I've received an email I check it right away. I hate being tied to my phone in that way, but I can't get away from it either. Even during my weird pregnancy insomnia where I wake up at 3am, I check my email.
The other morning I cried because my inbox was full of spam, but nothing from the one sender I would be overjoyed to see: stygersj. I'd say I was doing really well before this "silence" set in. I've noticed over the last few days that I'm more irritable, and cranky.
Thankfully though, after the tears had fallen, the Lord reminded me of one glorious thing. Though I haven't seen, heard from, or talked to Steve; though I don't know how his days are going, what he's feeling, if he's getting enough rest, or what he's eaten that day (weird, I know, but I'm always interested!);
The Lord does!
It is a wonderful comfort to know that even at this moment, Jesus is here with me, AND (who knows how deep under the waves) with my husband at the same time.
So I love and hate my phone, but more importantly I need to rest in the One who is with us both, in this moment, keeping us close.

Unforgetable memories

I have a terrible memory, but I hope that writing them down will help me to be able to recall the most precious things of life.

Stevie, naked after a shower, laying on my bedroom floor, looking at a Veggie Tales book.

The girls sitting at the island waiting for cheerios, kindly allowing the one who asked to have the Princess Genevieve bowl.

Being woken up early while its still dark by a sleepy girl crawling into my bed. Genna usually brings her Daddy pillow with her.

Stevie learning to do a summer-salt.

The girls sitting at their school picnic table coloring a Bible page and Stevie sitting with them, coloring and feeling so proud to be like his sisters.

Stevie blowing raspberries on my huge pregnant belly.

Genevieve telling me all about what she dreamed her wedding dress would look like. Lace gloves, lace dress with a hoop so it would stick out, "that didn't show my tummy or boobies Mommy," and lace veil over her hair long. "I don't know who the husband was though." I told her that part wasn't quite important yet (at least not at age 6!)

Elizabeth squatting in the grass and going shee shee near the Hale Koa parking garage, and midstream saying, "This is AWESOME!"

Three kids squished in the RAV4 we borrowed for a few days sharing goldfish, toys, and asking me to turn up Air 1.

One month down, five to go

February 7, 2012 was our sad day. March 7, 2012 was a very unexceptional day. I guess, in the long run, that is the goal. I have a friend who has often referred me to the blog Sacred Mundane. Those words alone envoke a lot of thoughts. God calls my life sacred, holy not because it is extraordinary, but because it is His. This last month has been the process of settling into a new normal, but continuing to be the way we've always lived: simple, peaceful, joyful, moving forward. I believe we have carried on with our sacred mundane lives to the glory of God. The kids display none of the horror story "military brat" symptoms, and I hope the same can be said for me. We talk about Steve all the time, and the girls are excited about the changes in our lives that will make him so proud. Elizabeth is excited to learn to swim with "no floaties" and surprise her Daddy. Genevieve lost a tooth and the first thing she said about it was, "I want to tell Dad!" I think my deepest desire is that he'll come home and be proud of his wife. When I think about what life is like on the sub, when I think about how hard it must be to be away from us all, I just want to do my very best for this man.

Sweet Kids

I've been so proud of the kids lately. I am seeing really good developments in them that bless me so much. I told you I was praying that we (all) would thrive during this deployment, that God would allow each of us the grace to go beyond just getting by until our family was "normal" again. I believe I am seeing an answer to that prayer.

For Genevieve, one of our most frequent comments to her (in correction) was that she was too intense with her brother. It is part of who she is. She is the epitome of an exclamation point. Her highs are high and her lows are low. Steve and I have really talked to her a lot about controlling her emotions instead of letting them control her. Though Elizabeth doesn't seem to mind her intensity so much, Stevie certainly does. He is frustrated by her abundant kisses and squeezes; he doesn't like her loud way of playing. Over the last couple of weeks, I have seen her respond to his rebuffs before I need to remind her of what we've discussed. I'm so thankful for this. She's also a great help to me, her and Elizabeth both. At the zoo a couple weeks ago they were like little mommies with my friend's children. The girls were the oldest ones, all the other kids were two and younger. They took hands and helped to corral the little ones. I'm so thankful for my little helpers.

Elizabeth continues to bless me with her love for homeschool (reading more than math), putting puzzles together on my bathroom floor (they just finished a 100 piece puzzle tonight!), and making Stevie laugh. The two of them really have a special bond. For a long time she was really apprehensive of swimming without water wings, but on Friday and today she was so brave! Though she is our tough one, Genna is more adventurous to try something new. We've encouraged Elizabeth for six months or so (off and on) to try swimming and she flatly refused. The last two swimming opportunities, though, what a change! It is so fun to have her run up to me and excitedly exclaim that she swam!

Just last night Stevie learned to do a summer-salt! Before Steve left he would put his head on the floor and the girls would push him over. I'm continually amazed at this boy! I've got it all on video, which is really great. His obedience training (makes him sound like a puppy!) is also going so well. Especially when we are out, he is very obedient to my voice. I'm really thankful for this since I'll need him to obey what I say when the new baby comes. Thankfully there is still a month or so to continue working on it. Like his sisters, he doesn't throw huge fits, though unlike them he is way more physical than verbal. That pretty much describes the male gender though!

I know Steve will see the changes in the kids right away when he comes; my prayer is that he is blessed by all God has done and continues to do in our family.