Eamon Eugene: a birth story.

“I will sing of your faithfulness and tell the whole world of all that you have done because you, God, have done awesome things for me. You have not let me down or let me fall into trouble. I trusted you and you gave me peace. I was not afraid and you filled my heart with confidence. You heard my every request – even every unspoken request – and you satisfied my desires according to your loving kindness . You have dealt so kindly with me, God. Let me tell about what you have done!”

He’s here guys! The tail end of May just two days after his expected due date marks his arrival.

Meet Eamon Eugene. All just under 9 pounds of him.

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Isn’t he wonderful? And I’m smiling! (or crying/shaking a little?) Y’all, No. HELLP. Syndrome. What a precious gift, both this sweet little honey as well as a healthy pregnancy, labor, and birth.

Let’s get to it. One of my very first prayers upon laying eyes on the positive pregnancy test was that I would literally be in labor for about a week without knowing it and baby would then just sort of, you know, come out. (I can ask right?) Considering our first born came 38 hours after my waters broke and our second was traumatically evacuated, the prayer made a lot of sense to this momma. God heard and He answered. For nearly 7 days I experienced regular contractions, 10, 5-7, and 2-3 minutes apart for a number of hours or sometimes all day long, then they would stop. It was quite frustrating not knowing what was going on, but then I would remember my prayer and suggested to myself that perhaps, just maybe, the Lord really was saying yes.

Memorial Day weekend came. I remember praying months ago that whichever day baby came, whatever we happened to be doing that day, wherever we were, that it would simply be a peaceful day. Storms rolled in and out all day. The smell of rain permeated the air and I was so satisfied. We played outside. We pulled a few weeds. Tad worked on his cafe racer in the garage. We ate outside on the deck under a few light sprinkles. I took 3 or 4 walks around the block between bouts of rain amidst more ‘false’ labor contractions. I remember thinking and saying, ‘Lord, this is a peaceful day. Don’t you think today would be a great day to welcome a babe? If not, thanks for a sweet day – and the smell of rain.’ Did I mention my love for the smell of fresh sweet rain?

Bedtime came. Contractions were still regular, perhaps slightly more crampy, but nothing to get excited about. We went to bed. I could not sleep. Something about having a large baby on my bladder and the constant need to make potty visits. So I got up. Things were more crampy still. I figured if this is legit, I may as well be moving to get this show on the road. If not, at least the dish washer would be empty! I had cleaned up the whole house, washed the dishes, and even purchased a lovely bouquet from my favorite florist, Beth from Elizabella Flower Farm, who also happens to be our across the street neighbor (win!),  downtown at the Ames, IA Main Street Farmer’s Market that weekend juuuust in case I did happen to go into labor and needed something pretty to look at. Aren’t they?

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It was now 11:30pm. I finally called my momma and told her that should these continue to come and remain strong, perhaps she should come crash at the asayplacey just in case we needed to head out. We didn’t have a set plan in place for our two big kids. I asked and trusted the Lord to work out those details with some apprehension in the back of my mind – not knowing exactly how events would unfold. But I make myself out to be the fool every time I doubt, because true to His character, He proves to be faithful in everything. I called our doula, Ami, who arrived right around midnight. It was evident at this point that it was indeed ‘Go Time’. I was needing to pause at each contraction, and things were starting to be expelled (I’ll spare those details). In perfect timing (thanks for that Lord) as soon as my momma arrived, and it was time for us to head out to the hospital (I laid down my desires for a home birth a long time ago. deep sigh. content heart. moving on.)

We arrived at the hospital, were admitted to our room, everything with me and baby checked out. I had to use the potty and stayed there for what seemed like an hour (that’s probably not too far from the truth?) until my water broke – handy. Baby was CO-MING. It’s incredible how things can intensify so quickly after that point. I went and lied on my left side on the bed to give easy access to my arm as they needed to draw blood to make sure everything continued to check out seamlessly. A blood test was the only way HELLP was detected with W, our second born, and was again needed. It wasn’t long after that I realized I needed to stay right where I was – baby was almost here! Slowly baby’s head emerged and what I couldn’t see was that the cord was wrapped tightly around his neck. I am so very thankful for the knowledge that this is fairly common and easily remedied. That knowledge kept me from much unnecessary worry and anxiety. However, the cord was too tight to pull over baby’s head, so the midwife needed to clamp and cut it before the rest of baby’s body could be delivered. I remember having a thought that this might happen. I eased the rest of baby out while holding onto his little body and it was done. Over. Finished. He (it’s a boy!!!) was here!

He came some quickly (roughly only 3 hours of ‘work through it’ labor) and so slowly at the end. We had only been at the hospital for 2 hours! Hallelujah! What an amazing answer to my request and the requests of so many interceding on our behalf. Not only did we remain healthy, but the day was incredibly peaceful, relationships were happy, the timing of everyone’s arrival and our departure for the hospital was seamless, and he came without too much longing for it to be over (I had so much of this with LL after 15 hours in the hospital). Eamon’s birth was by far the most intense and most painful (he was, after all, two whole pounds bigger than Whitterboy), however, it was by far the best of all three births. Yes, somehow, those things can and did go together. Despite his size and the intensity of his arrival, the Lord answered yet another request – that my pieces and parts would remain intact, that I wouldn’t require any stitching, and that using the potty postpartum would be a breeze. Y’all. Truly. This may be TMI, but every time I make a visit to the wash room I thank the Lord for his kindness to me. I’ve experienced an awful tear my first time around where crying was needed to make it through every potty visit and you’d hold it for hours to eliminate even just one trip to that awful place that day. I still, a week and half out, thank God for that bit of mercy every time I see the toilet.

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We were all rejoicing. We could finally let our breath out. This daddy especially had been holding his breath for months – waiting. Not knowing. Waiting is hard when you’re not given a definitive outcome. We worked hard to live wisely throughout the entirety of the pregnancy; to eat and supplement well, exercise, and do what was needed to be as well as possible. But I had to keep reminding myself that my hope was not in my diet or what I could do. My hope was ultimately in God and what He would provide the birth perfect for my good and the birth that would bring Him the most glory.

*Because God gives wisdom to know how to help our bodies function optimally, I know many of you have asked about my diet and supplement regime during this pregnancy. Just wait a teensy bit longer! That post is in the works!*

Eamon was given his name a number of hours after his birth. It’s an Irish name meaning ‘guardian of riches’ or ‘wealthy protector’. Our prayer is that he would be a protector of true riches, things that are of true value – people (namely those who cannot protect themselves – the unborn and the slave) and the gospel to name two.

His middle name, Eugene, was also my gramps middle name. He passed away three years ago and his birthday was just one week before Eamon was born. While I had hoped they would share a birthday, I still wanted to use his middle name should we give birth to a little boy. When I looked and saw the meaning of the name, I all the more desired to use his name. Eugene means ‘well born’. What a gift that the name which first came to mind literally means ‘well born’. He totally and completely was well born into this world. Now I pray one day he will be well born again into new, true, eternal life in the one to come. Eamon Eugene, what a precious surprise you are! We are excited to see what you will become. What a gift. A crazy, emotional highway of a gift.

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Eamon, you are clearly so loved.

 

saturday morning waffles.

We haven’t started any regular traditions just yet with Saturday mornings (which I’d like to change!), and actually just ordered Noel Piper’s ‘Treasuring God in Our Traditions’ (I’ll let ya know what I glean from it). But every once in a while, we’ll bust out our mixing bowls and make a little bit more special Saturday morning breakfast.

This morning Daddy decided to make wheat waffles for us all (THANK YOU Daddy!) And it went a little something like this:

waffles feb2013-1Momma’s wafflesmomwaffles

Daddy’s wafflesdaddywaffles

LL’s wafflesLLwaffles

and W’s waffles waffle experiencewhittwaffles

 

Saturday Morning Waffles: 1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour | 2 tsp baking powder | 1/2 tsp salt | 1 Tbls sugar | 1 1/2 cups  vanilla almond milk | 1 egg | 1 tsp vanilla extract | 1/4 cup apple sauce | swig o’ oil. (or something like that) 

I think some whole wheat germ and flax seed meal was attempted to be put in, but mom forgot to put the wheat germ in the fridge, and we weren’t sure how it’d be after being out for say… months, and the flax seed meal (in the freezer) could not be found.  If you’d like to add those things in or substitute a different sweetener, I’m certain you could!

If you all have any Saturday morning traditions, we would LOVE to hear them… the Asayplacey is currently taking fresh ideas!

 

climbing & instruction.

Maybe someday I’ll mean ‘cliff’ or ‘mountain’ when I title a post ‘climbing’, but this time I mean ‘chair’ or ‘all other furniture or taller objects within reach’ climbing.

I’ll explain all that LL had been learning and exploring lately in her 9 month post that is yet to come, but for now, she climbs:

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… Under the chair, before giving herself a lil bonk on the head and realizing she can’t stand up under there.

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She didn’t seem to mind though. She was having too much fun exploring!

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We’re working on teaching/instructing & disciplining when things are dangerous to ‘explore’. Not EVERYTHING is ‘baby proofed’ at the Asayplacey. Though we don’t leave the sharp knives on the floor within reach, we’d (I think most parents can agree) rather train Linley to follow Ephesians 6:1… Joyfully because of proverbs 13:24, among others. In due time. She listens to her daddy’s voice much more attentively than mine. It’s low and apparently comes across as more serious.

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She’s a sweet gift, and is teaching us SO so much! Explore away Linley Louise! (just not over to the bookcase that could topple over on your little body, or onto the frames that are on the floor because momma can’t make up her mind, or near the cans of ash next to fireplace because we haven’t found a good solution for that yet, or up the stairs cause you could fall, or into the kitchen because you’ll probably find crumbs on the floor and put them in your mouth – gross! -, or… I’m SURE there are SOME places you can explore!) :)