Baby Henry is Here!

Sleep is such a beautiful thing. When I gather a little more, I will write about my experience in greater detail. For now, pictures and a brief re-cap are going to have to do. I did want to mention I managed labor induction, without an epidural, again. Mind over matter, right? That is all it is. Make the choice beforehand, and follow-through. No problem. By the end of labor, I thought death was upon me. I wanted death to come -- just take me out of the world, make it stop. At one point I screamed, "Please, help me!" (Screaming is NOT in my nature.) This birthing experience was by far the most difficult in many ways. (Just ask Charles, he was there.) I know part of it was because of the known "unknown" on the other side. But because of the hell that I walked through, I snuggle Henry really tight. I appreciate him, his life, and his sweet spirit. I consider him a miracle, a blessing from Heaven. And though this has been a very difficult time for me, I have learned so much that I would never have learned without walking through the fire . . . the Refiner's Fire. I know, and fear, there is more refining to come.

Oh the pain . . . what glorious pain. I love pain. 

When you are induced the contractions are more or less "forced" upon you, as anyone who has been induced will tell you -- it HURTS! Wham-O! It went too quickly this time and I went from being dilated to a 6 to pushing Henry out in a matter of minutes. Because of the "too rapid" of a decent, he came out totally bruised and battered . . . and on my end -- going from 6 to 10 in just minutes -- I was hoping death would come swiftly. I kept wondering if there was some way to turn back, but it was too late! I have given birth before and felt the pain, burn, etc. but this just did not feel "right". I grabbed onto Charles and ripped my fingernails into his side. I also grabbed the poor nurse who was on the other side of me, and I plunged my nails deep into her side. Poor thing. That's what you get for standing too close. I kept my eyes closed the whole time. I screamed and moaned and keep begging, "please" over and over. I was thrashing about, flinging my body to and fro. It was so intense, so painful, it was too hot . . . too much fire. I tried to breath, but really I just wanted to melt away into nothing . . . I wanted it all to go away . . . I wanted to go away. 

Charles before the torture began, we were all health and happiness for the first while. 

And then, finally, after 9 hours of forced labor . . . I was so relived to push out little Henry. It is such a weird feeling going from wishing to be taken from the world, to being able to breath and smile again -- in just a matter of minutes. From having the babies head stuck in the canal, ripping me to physical and emotional shreds . . . and then feeling better the moment his body is out. It is amazing. Bodies are amazing. Life is amazing. Bringing a life into the world is . . . amazing. 

This is how his poor face looked just moments after birth. He was totally bruised, all over, poor baby. His arms were so sad. He really had a rough go of it. 

Charles loving on Henry. He is such a good, loving daddy. The best. He managed the house while I was away for the week. He did an amazing job. 

Henry got to spend some time in the NICU. Come to find out, he has 4 kidneys. (We thought it was 3.) He had a blockage in his bladder because of the extra kidneys, and he had surgery to hopefully fix the problem. They went up through his "little boy part" with a stethoscope and a "hook" and sort of "popped" the blockage. We go back to the urologist in a month for another check on his system. If he looks good and there is no reflux back up into the kidneys, then we are good to go. If there is reflux he will have to take an antibiotic for a year and have kidney surgery. It is a 50/50 chance. Flip of a coin. Please pray for him. 

The NICU is a pretty amazing place. They work miracles there. I stayed with Henry over the week so that I could feed him. I managed to work my way to him every hour to two hours . . . no pumping. It was exhausting. I had 0 sleep. I started getting really mental walking the halls, up and down, back and forth, alone. (The narcotics they had me on did not help.) I don't know that I have ever felt so alone before in my life. At one point I was walking the halls, crying, uncontrollably -- very unlike me. It is like another world there, in the hospital. I learned so much just by looking around me, at all the people, and all the pain. But I also saw families gathered in circles, praying. I saw flowers, and love, and miracles all around me. It was such a growing experience for me. Horrible, yes, but I would not take it away. 

Poor Henry has been poked and prodded so many times. His little feet are all shredded from blood draws. 

He had a bit of jaundice so he got to spend time under the bilirubin lights. We had to bring a bili-blanket home with us, too. But he is doing well now. 

I sure love this little guy. Seeing your baby all wired-up is a hard thing to endure. You just want to snatch them away and run to a happy place where no one hurts. The double IV's in his hands were so sad. He has endured a lot in his week of life. We have been in and out of doctors since he was born and we have more fun to come.

Mama and Baby

The Boys

 Henry Jones van Ormer 

 Daniel admiring Henry

Exploring his little hand

 This is me after a night of pouring sweat. I was totally drenched. All the water they pumped into me was flushing itself out. It was pretty nasty. Henry looks cute, though. 

 In the NICU trying not to pass-out from exhaustion. 

The one time when you really need sleep to heal, you just can't seem to find it! 

 If you plan to have a baby, I highly recommend having a 10-11 year old daughter. She is mommy's helper. Thank goodness! 

 There are beautiful pictures all around the hospital. When I was having my rough moment, crying through the halls, I came across this image . . . I started to bawl like a baby. It looks just like my William. I just wanted to go home, to my family. I was so alone. Surrounded by people, but all alone. I wanted MY people. 

I am home now, thank goodness. Since I have been home I have cleaned-up pickle juice that spilled from a huge jar of pickles, over the ENTIRE contents of the fridge. (That was just 5 minutes after returning home from the hospital.)  I have also cleaned-up broken glass -- from a light bulb that shattered just inches away from my 5 year old William's head, while he was sleeping on my bedroom floor.  (I knocked the lamp over trying to turn off an alarm I had set for a nap.) It is back to "normal" life now. I am just so tired . . . I have cried numerous times over the last week, out of sheer exhaustion (and the pain of my milk coming in -- OUCH!). "This too shall pass " . . . I keep thinking to myself. But I don't want it to pass, not really. I want to enjoy these moments, with my little Henry. My little baby miracle. I don't want to wish my life away . . . this is what I wanted. This is why I endured 9 months of pregnancy. Yeah, I hurt. Yeah, I am tired beyond all get-out. But I also feel elevated somehow. . . . It is because I am in love. I am in love with my new, sweet, precious, gift from God. He is my boy that I would walk through fire for. He is my Henry.