Jack Aaron

Friday September 19, I couldn't help picturing myself giving birth in the mall after a trip in for a nursing bra brought a fresh round of "sit down on that bench before the baby falls out" contractions.

 At my appointment that afternoon, I was dilated another centimeter, to a 5, and the doctor agreed that the sooner the induction, the better. If it was up to me, I would have walked across the hall to the hospital and popped the baby out right then and there.  But the doctor thought Monday would be better.

So Monday September 22, I woke early and drove myself to the hospital.  Dan stayed to get the kids off to school and met me later, as I was receiving the second dose of antibiotics and just before the doctor broke my water. He hoped that alone would be enough to start regular contractions, but it wasn't.  I was so ready to be done, I would have been fine if they pumped me full of pitocin.  About an hour later, with no real change, they decided to start it.  And when they started, those contractions were not messing around. I suppose since I was already dilated, all that was left were the big daddy ones at the end.  I decided on the epidural pretty quickly especially since my nurse promised me I wouldn't have to have a catheter.

  

It was probably the worst epidural I've had, though it did take the edge off.  Less than 2 hours later it was time to push.  And a couple of contractions later, he was here. 

The doctor wiped him down and set him right on my chest.  And I cried.  And I loved him.

Babies are miracles. 

 I loved my doctor.  I have always been opposed to having a male OB, but when I moved here, I ended up at a practice of 3 male Ob's.  I planned to switch, but after meeting him the first time, I changed my mind.  Of all the doctors I've had, I could tell that this guy truly understood the gravity of growing and delivering human life.  He knew it was a miracle too.  I'll never forget his face as we heard the baby's heartbeat at that first appointment.  He was as awed as I was.

And he handed me my baby, not like it was his job, but like he was handing me my own heart. 

He was 7 lbs. 7 oz. and 19" long.

  Being my fifth baby, the nursing staff at the hospital basically left me alone.  The lactation consultant came and went without so much as an attempt to man handle my baby feeders or watch how well he latched, which was a real perk.

Meanwhile, we could not pick a name.  We kept thinking and thinking.  

Dan brought all the kids back after school.  Of course they were so excited to meet their new brother.

And we've done this "meet the baby" thing a few times now, but never have I seen a reaction quite like Finn's.  He was so happy.  He was so soft, and he was so excited.  But I can't really explain it.  It was as though he recognized the baby.  He knew him.  Like he had been waiting for him to get here.  

He laid his head over on the baby's so gently, again and again. 

I was reminded of the feelings I had very shortly after I had Finn.  The ones telling me that we shouldn't wait to have the next baby. The ones we wrote off because they were crazy.  But the ones that ultimately comforted me so much when we found out we were pregnant anyway a few short months later.  

These boys didn't want to be apart.

Tuesday morning when I called Dan, he said he had woken up early to throw up.  As the day went on, he got sicker and sicker, and kept puking and puking.  I knew it was bad when he called me at the hospital asking me to call people to come to our house and get the kids.  He told me to tell them the garage code because he could not get up to let them in.

So, two kind friends came in the house and each took Finn and Max.  

Later that day Dan got a blessing.  

He went to urgent care where he was given IV fluids.

Another friend, Emily, picked up Ava and Luke from school, took them back to her house, met the other friends back at the house with Finn and Max, that night and put all the kids to bed, while Dan was dying in bed.

Luckily, by Wednesday morning he was still really weak but feeling much better.  He came over to the hospital around midday to pick me up. By that time I had filled out the birth certificate.  Tuesday Dan could hardly talk, let alone have a discussion with me about names.  That morning he told me to just pick one.  We had been choosing between Jack and Jonas.  But when it came down to it, I wrote Jack on the paper and told Dan his name when he got to the hospital.  We picked Aaron months ago after my brother. I drove myself home since we had both of our cars there.

And from there on it was real life. 

My sister, Chandra, was scheduled to arrive in two weeks.  Dan took off the rest of that week and then half days for the week after that. And we made it. It wasn't even that ugly.  Not easy, but not ugly either.

With 5 babies as beautiful as these, life may be hard but it I'm not sure I could ever really call it ugly.