Tiffany and I had a front row seat for the final few minutes. Those of you who were not keeping up with Mayan history, or the end thereof, may not know that the official time of the "big kablewie" was 3:11am PST. Not a time we would normally sit, poised for the plunge into nothingness, but the baby woke up at 3am to eat, so we decided to hold vigil for the last moments. 3:10am rolled around, I kissed my wife, and told her it was nice knowing her, and counted to 60. Nothing happened, a fact most of you probably are aware of.
One of the other theories was not the end of the world, but rather a step in our evolution, a jump to a higher mental plane, or something of that sort. Maybe it happened somewhere else, but Tiffany and I both agreed that we seemed to be thinking in the same manner as we always have. No telepathy or views of other dimensions. Then we looked down at little Zorro, and realized that perhaps the world jumped to a new level, the Mayans just did not realize they were predicting the change for a single family, in the middle of California.
We had always planned on a home birth, but this time the Lord had other ideas. After a Sunday afternoon was transformed into chaos by Tiff's water breaking, we called the midwife, doula, masseuse, family, everyone, because this was it! All that we had waited for, prepared for, longed for was about to happen! The midwife arrived, agreed that Tiffany's water had broken, and then we waited, and waited, and waited. One would think that the monumental act of her water breaking would send this woman, who was on bed-rest for six weeks due to pre-term labor, careening over the edge into a raging abyss of contractions on a vast scale! The result was.....nothing. A few contractions, one or two, with her husband faithfully recording the timing, length and intensity, then they would skip away like a seven year old enjoying a flowery meadow, only to return awhile later, with some new discovery, before skipping off again. Exercise was to no avail, oils only made a bit of progress, massages, pressure points, walks, the exercise ball, all was tried, with very little change.
This pushme-pullyou game of labor went on for twenty-four hours, before we ran into the rules regarding potential infection. At that point, the hard decision had to be made, and our home birth was put on the back burner, and the health of mother and baby, on the admittedly small chance of infection made us fall back on our "backup plan". There is one hospital in our area that is VERY friendly to midwives, and home-birthers in general, so a few calls were made, and we trundled off to the hospital.
To condense the next twelve hours into a few sentences, with only the intervention of a minimal amount of pitocin, no pain meds, and an excellent nursing staff and doctor, who let our able midwife take center stage until it was time to push, we welcomed a massive young man into the world. Neither Tiff nor I understand why the Lord had us scrap the plan for a home birth, but sometimes trusting means not knowing, and being willing to say, "that is how it played out, we did our best". As long as you know, deep down inside that you did your best, that is all that matters. Baby is home, mother is safe, and we are now home, enjoying the new normal, and praising God for the "End of the World".
Here are a few pictures from our grand adventure:
We had always planned on a home birth, but this time the Lord had other ideas. After a Sunday afternoon was transformed into chaos by Tiff's water breaking, we called the midwife, doula, masseuse, family, everyone, because this was it! All that we had waited for, prepared for, longed for was about to happen! The midwife arrived, agreed that Tiffany's water had broken, and then we waited, and waited, and waited. One would think that the monumental act of her water breaking would send this woman, who was on bed-rest for six weeks due to pre-term labor, careening over the edge into a raging abyss of contractions on a vast scale! The result was.....nothing. A few contractions, one or two, with her husband faithfully recording the timing, length and intensity, then they would skip away like a seven year old enjoying a flowery meadow, only to return awhile later, with some new discovery, before skipping off again. Exercise was to no avail, oils only made a bit of progress, massages, pressure points, walks, the exercise ball, all was tried, with very little change.
This pushme-pullyou game of labor went on for twenty-four hours, before we ran into the rules regarding potential infection. At that point, the hard decision had to be made, and our home birth was put on the back burner, and the health of mother and baby, on the admittedly small chance of infection made us fall back on our "backup plan". There is one hospital in our area that is VERY friendly to midwives, and home-birthers in general, so a few calls were made, and we trundled off to the hospital.
To condense the next twelve hours into a few sentences, with only the intervention of a minimal amount of pitocin, no pain meds, and an excellent nursing staff and doctor, who let our able midwife take center stage until it was time to push, we welcomed a massive young man into the world. Neither Tiff nor I understand why the Lord had us scrap the plan for a home birth, but sometimes trusting means not knowing, and being willing to say, "that is how it played out, we did our best". As long as you know, deep down inside that you did your best, that is all that matters. Baby is home, mother is safe, and we are now home, enjoying the new normal, and praising God for the "End of the World".
Here are a few pictures from our grand adventure:
Sometimes, plans change.
Was it worth it?
Oh yeah, definitely....
Does he have a belly button?
A proud big sister.
Grandmum looking for red hair.
Mama was missed.
Nine months of rest wasn't enough, you have to yawn and take a nap?
Back at home, Bella makes her inspection of the new cousin. "Hold him higher daddy. I can't see!"
Another new baby! This one was easier to get....
Ok, now we know that just one WAS easier.
Guarding, faithfully.
This tears me up every time.
The ten mile stare.
Big hands!
Complete cuteness.
For unto us a child is born, and we call his name, unto us a son is given; and his name shall be called.....well, you will have to wait and see. Zorro, for now.
BFH
for
BLTZ
