Our third was a surprise in the gender department. We, actually just me really because Dan said he didn’t care, decided to wait on finding out what this tie breaker baby would be: team girl or team boy.
It was April 2018 when I found out I was pregnant. January of that year I had a miscarriage. I ran to tell Dan with tears in my eyes and decided to wait a few weeks to tell my closest family. New life is a gift, each and every time. It’s a miracle with not a single ounce of human control over it. We like to think we have control over everything don’t we? If we do this, then this will happen. If we don’t, we’ll most certainly have this. The incredible truth is that no man/woman can open a womb or close it. No human being can create life and sustain it by sheer will. Only God can do that. This same God–who knits us together in the depths of our mother’s womb–has reached down in history to save us through means that we would never choose. The gospel, my friends, is beautiful; and when it touches our hearts, it is the lens by which we view our entire lives.
Back to the recounting of dear third child. That’s what happens to the youngest right? Mom gets distracted or side tracked and they end up playing quietly on the floor with their trains until such time as Mom finishes what she’s doing. Haha, sorry youngest. You really are loved every bit as much as the rest.
My sister and I were sitting at McDonald’s Play Place one lunch hour in early May, and she turns to me. “I’m pregnant!! Due date is January 1st. We’re so excited, and nervous, and excited!” Sister, I might not have your exact words there but that’s what I remember you saying. I am thrilled, going through my head about whether or not to share our news at the same time. Deciding then was the best time, I shared: “Us too! Due date late December. Can you believe it?”
Fast forward several weeks after both of us had our initial ultrasounds and we find out my dates were off by a week or so. January 1st was our new due date. Same day as my sister! I posted on Facebook about it that day, overcome with excitement about sharing such a thing with her. Fast forward another many months and her son, my sweet nephew, was born 2 1/2 weeks early: December 16th. I remember walking into the hospital room and taking a picture on the bed next to my sister, myself still plenty preggers. I will treasure that time and that picture for always.
My pregnancy with our third was uneventful. Taking care of a 3 year old and an almost 2 year old, I was busy enough to keep me moving and keep the weeks flying by. My doctor had transferred to another part of the state in 2017, so I found a new one for number three. She was kind, soft spoken, and encouraging; in many ways almost like a counselor. I have vivid memory of her during the delivery process though, and she was efficient. Skilled. Mechanical in a good way. I was grateful for her both in my miscarriage and during the pregnancy with our third.
December 31st. I’m laying in bed and I can hear fireworks going off. 12:01 am. ‘Seriously?! January 1st and I’m still pregnant?’ We went to breakfast the next morning and Dan straight up tells me: “It’s not going to be today. Don’t get your hopes up.” Gahhhhh. I had never gone over my due date and, while I was perfectly fine two weeks prior, I was starting to get crabby about the fact that baby wasn’t out yet. I wanted to meet this child in the worst way. A child I was actually pretty convinced was a girl. Dan and I both were. The heart rate had been high the whole time. I felt more like my pregnancy with our daughter than the one with our son, aside from the swelling. I just had a gut feeling it was a girl. So much so that when I started having contractions (false ones) on our anniversary, December 22nd, pacing the mall, I almost didn’t buy a LITTLE BROTHER onesie. Thought the LITTLE SISTER one would do.
Dan was right. New Years Day 2019 came and went and still no baby. The next day I went to my parents’ house to kill some time. My parents took turns walking down the lane with me, trading in between trips to take care of the kids, aware that I was pretty desperate to ‘walk baby out’. Haha, walking for the win again! Contractions started early evening on January 2nd. Dan came and picked me up and the kids stayed at my parents’ house. We had been told after our second was born that we might need to park it in the hospital parking lot for the next one because they would come so fast. Not so, friends. This little one had me walking around at home. Slowly driving to the hospital. Walking pleasantly around the hospital L&D wing with 5-10 minute contractions that felt like child’s play from what I remembered.
I want to say it was about midnight that night when things finally picked up. I had it in my head that I wasn’t going to ask for an epidural this time since it went so smoothly before without one. Contractions intensifying. Oooh, yeah, actually these are pretty bad. I’ll take some Fentanyl please. I’m good though. Keep breathing. Contractions HURT now. K, ow. Last time I didn’t have time to think about them because it was so quick. This time…..I’m in it and I am feeeelin it. But, again I say the Lord gives you some killer mama mode during that time, some out of body strength you didn’t know you had. Not so many pushes and there HE was. “He?!” Another boy?! I don’t know why the expectation was there like it was, but it was kind of a shock in that moment. A true surprise. He had lungs on him right away–screaming until he was fed and eating for the next several hours like it was his job.
2:46 AM on January 3rd. 8 lbs 13 oz. Bald boy with a scrunched up face that we said looked like a raisin. Interestingly enough, he too was given a name different from what we had chosen during the pregnancy. Dan selected his name on Google during my slow start labor process and it was the one we decided fit his little self best. His middle name we gave was my dad’s, and I sure loved calling him to tell him the news.
To our precious third: Never to be left out of the party you are. You are 2 now and making yourself known is your game. You are also full of silliness like your big sis, and you make us laugh with your newfound words and dancing skills. We love your snuggly hugs and your chunky legs. You are the perfect addition to our family. Never forget this, dear boy: That you were not an accident. Your life was a gift, perfectly ordained by the One who knows your name. His Word is truth. Nothing else in this life can give you the hope that He gives. Hold to that, and remember we love you always and no matter what. -Your mama