I knew (obviously) that December would be a busy month. I knew that if everything went as planned,
that I would have our sixth baby and then hopefully move just a few weeks later
all the way from South Carolina to northern Minnesota shortly after
Christmas.
December 10th was the first milestone. I wasn’t technically due(ish) until the 17th,
but I figured number six would come at least a bit early. Besides…
number five had been born early.
Our other son’s (we were about to have our second son) birthday was the
tenth and I had thought that it would be cool to have the baby on that
day. Remy, who was about to turn four,
also considered it to be a cool possibility.
I am not entirely sure if he would have thought it was near as awesome
when he was fifteen… but it didn’t
matter, because the tenth came and went with nothing.
December 12th was the second cool day on my
list. If he wasn’t going to share a
birthday, at least let his birthday be 12-12-12! That would be easy to remember even when he
was senile and old AND a day like that wouldn’t happen again until 1-1-2101. Since I didn’t plan on still having babies in
the 22nd century our last opportunity for a kid with a birthdate
like that had to happen TIME NOW. Epic
fail. Nothing.
Then came the “due-ish” date… And once again… nothing.
I was starting to consider him either genetically predispositioned to
obstinate behavior or procrastination. I
wasn’t sure yet which one was worse.
At this point in time, I started to get a little
nervous. All the “what-ifs” started
playing through my mind. What if the
baby isn’t born until AFTER Christmas?
What if he is born ON Christmas?
What if he isn’t born after we are supposed to have been moved? What if something is wrong? What if something is wrong with ME and I
can’t have this baby on my own??? What
if something is wrong and we can’t move at all???
We started to plan for Christmas and came up with a plan B,
C, and D… just in case. Instead of waiting to pack for our move after
the baby was born, we went ahead and started packing before. There was no way we would have time after
baby was born now and get done everything that needed to happen. The house was absolutely full of boxes. Everything was in disarray.
Christmas Eve came and that morning all the kids opened up
their Christmas presents we’d gotten them. I am not sure who was more excited
that morning. Us or them. I had all eight of our stockings lined up and
ready, but I couldn’t help feeling a great disappointment that while I’d taken
the time and made New Baby a stocking and wrapped all his presents… he wasn’t there to share the moment with
us. And that was silly, because
technically he was there… just not in my
arms like I had imagined it. I wanted
desperately to hold him! That evening,
we went to church for Christmas Eve services and I got the “look” from my
friends and all the dreaded questions that I did not really want to
answer. No. No baby yet.
The morning of Christmas Day, I woke up early and walked
almost four miles. I came home
anticipating something- ANYTHING- and was contracting a little. THAT was good news! My hopes were up! Keith welcomed me back inside with an ice
cream shake that tasted suspiciously like castor oil. Other methods were tried. I increased my pineapple, red raspberry leaf
tea, and evening primrose intake… but by
that afternoon even the contractions were starting to fade. So, I went for another walk and with every
step I started to feel more and more frustrated.
Katie, my midwife, came over and we had a talk. She told me the problem was probably that the
baby was not lined up well enough, but that my cervix felt ready. And I thought, my cervix better be
ready! It has already had an extra eight
days! She showed me some stretches to do
to help align him properly and then went home.
I did those stretches all night.
I laid on my bed with my hips in the air and my face planted firmly on
my bed trying to browse the internet and then would switch from that position
to a squatting position in five to ten minute intervals. A friend told me that sometimes stress can
keep you from going into labor. I
thought “Great! BECAUSE THERE IS NO
SHORTAGE OF THAT HERE!!!”
I got a bath and dumped an entire bag of espom salt into the
water. “I didn’t want to move it
anyways.” I thought as I was rethinking the stress comments and in the same
moment realizing that it was probably already too late and perhaps just
embracing the stress would be a better idea.
Freak out mode was officially on.
I laid in it until the water started to turn cold, then I got out and
went to bed in tears. I watched the
clock turn from 11:59 to midnight on the dresser. Christmas Day was over and still no baby.
I woke up with a start somewhere around 5 am. Was that a contraction? Or just another twang kind of pain- the same
kind that I had been having for weeks that sent me into the hopeful bliss that
a baby would be coming soon, but that had left me feeling so disappointed afterwards. Why play with my emotions at 5 am?... I went back to sleep.
Thinking back on that now, I think that perhaps that was not
the most rational of things to do, but I was not being overly rational. I was in labor… although I had not totally convinced myself
of that yet. Labor had seemed so
elusive. I don’t even remember what it
was I sent him to the store to get! But
at the time, it seemed so important.
While he was gone, I started to become convinced that this was actually
for real. So, I called Katie. That was probably about 6:15 am.
Everything happened so fast after that. For one…
ALL the kids woke up. All of
them. And they were running up and down
the hall excited because I think they realized what was going on. I have always loved how excited my kids get
when we are about to add a new one to the bunch, but at that very moment… I encountered a new obstacle… Breakfast.
Right as I started getting ready to consider doing something to assist
them with the normal morning routine, the contractions really started to
intensify and started to become very hard.
Keith was back home by now (thank goodness!) and Katie had just walked
in. Somewhere in there I asked Keith to
call for back up since so much was going on in the living room. The doula had not arrived yet and I needed
Keith with me. I think he made a phone
call, then asked Autumn (our oldest who is nine) to handle things with the
younger kids. All my focus now centered
on the contractions and having the baby.
Literally, the next few moments happened so fast, I am not
even sure if I remember this with any accuracy.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, then I was laying down with my
pajamas still on, then I was trying to get undressed, then I was having a baby,
and a couple of pushes later… But by
7:24 am… it was over. The baby was born!
At some point in time in the pushing, Katie said “Hold
on! Don’t push!” and I remember thinking
“But I am not really pushing, my body is pushing and I can’t make it stop!” It didn’t matter though because she just
needed a moment. Keith told me later it
was because the cord was around the baby’s neck, but he said she handled it
with ease and haste.
And then he was here and in that moment, all the temper
tantrums I felt like throwing in frustration for his prolonged arrival were
gone. Pure joy lay in my arms, and he
was a perfect little angry ball of blue eyed baby. Whatever I had felt the past few weeks no
longer mattered. Everything changed with
New Dude’s arrival.
The kids were ecstatic and waiting at the door so that they
could come in and meet the newest addition of our family with smiles on their
faces. I lay in my bed with Little Joe
in my arms taking it all in. My heart
couldn’t smile any bigger. Around lunch
time, Katie left and I am pretty sure I slept the rest of the day. The day couldn’t have been any more
perfect. By that evening, I got up and
walked around a bit. Keith had handled
everything and even got quite a bit of packing done in anticipation of our next
adventure. I am so blessed to have such
an awesome family and great midwife.
The next day, against my midwife’s wishes I am sure, I was
also up and helping. The moving truck
was already scheduled to come by the 31st… and there was so much to do in between now
and then! But THAT is another chapter in
the story that we are still writing. So,
stay tuned.
Joe William Major Whiting (named after my dad!)
Born December 26, 2012 at 7:24 am
8 pounds, 19 inches long
Blue eyed, blond haired, and genetically scowly
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