The Birth of Greyson Efran

So I had a plan to type this all out while at the hospital and then just copy and paste everything over.... that didn't happen. It's a miracle I'm sitting down to type it now, actually, but I'm determined to record it, even though my memories are somewhat failing.

Tuesday, June 18th 2019

• 4:00 AM: Woke up Philip and drove to the hospital to get induced... No idea why we had to be there so crazy early, OR why I had to call at 2 AM to tell them I was coming. Upon arrival we were taken to the second floor waiting area and told that they were getting my room ready. 
• 5:00 AM: Still waiting in waiting area... what's the point of calling ahead? 
• 5:30 AM: Finally in delivery room getting hooked up to things and answering a lot of questions. The IV needle hurts, nurse places it in the exact spot as with Emmett's delivery (I can tell because it left a mole-like mark on my hand and she said that was the best vein she could find). 
• 6:00 AM: Baby Greyson won't stop moving around and the monitors keep going silent, it is extremely uncomfortable (almost painful) for me to sit up reclined on the bed, I haven't been able to do this comfortably for weeks. The only comfortable positions are sitting straight up cross-legged or laying on my right side completely horizontal. 
• 7:00 AM: baby has finally stayed on for 50 minutes, I'm afraid to move and mess it up. Lots of pressure on my bladder. Penicillin makes my entire arm sting and it's impossible to sleep or rest since moving my arm around eases the sting. 
• 8:15 AM: Oxytocin started on the lowest dose, still too painful to sit reclined so I lay on my side. No pain from contractions, but pro is that I am able to get up to use the bathroom whenever I want... and the IV fluids make me want to pee a lot. It's awkward, but manageable. 
• 9:30 AM: My mom shows up, Oxytocin was increased because my contractions are spaced too far apart with no regular pattern. 
• 10:00 AM: Still nothing happening (or so I think). Contractions feel uncomfortable, but not painful. It's also getting hard to breathe. 
• 11:30 AM: Tried to get up to use the bathroom for the 3rd time and a gush of blood came out of me. I called the nurse to help me clean myself up, and instead of letting me go use the bathroom she made me get back on the bed and called my doctor. Evil. 
• 11:40 AM: I was forced to pee in a bedpan while my doctor was on her way, so awkward. 
• 11:50 AM: Mom asks "are your contractions hurting a lot yet?" I begin to respond "not really" and halfway thru speaking an extremely painful contraction shows up and they never leave again. 
• 12:00 PM: Doctor comes in, checks my cervix, and I'm dilated to 5 cm. Without removing her hand she also breaks my water (gross feeling) and places an internal fetal heart monitor on baby's scalp because the belly monitor is not consistent. All of this is awful. They ask if I'm ready for an epidural yet, I think it's still too early for one but thank goodness I said yes. 
• 12:30 PM: Anesthesiologist finally shows up, (I was second in line) and all this time I've been moaning in pain and struggling to breathe. It takes him a while to set up, and to me it feels like an eternity. It was so hard to keep still during such painful contractions. Also, I tried to break Philip's fingers off. He looked at me like he was bored and done with the whole thing. 
• 1:00 PM: After the epidural (which hurt a lot more than the one with Emmett, I felt it shoot up all the way up my spine) I'm left waiting for the warm, soaking-in-a-bathtub feeling that I had with the previous epidural... it never comes. My entire right leg and side became numb, but the pressure on my bladder became insanely painful. 
• 1:15 PM: Nurse half helps half forces me to turn to my left side so that the pain medication will numb my left leg too... it sort of does but a lot less than my right. My bladder is in agony. 
• 1:35 PM: I've been telling my mom "ok I'm going to switch sides, I'm going to switch sides" but the pain is so bad that I take forever rolling over. (But hey, I did it, contractions and all.)
• 1:45 PM: Still moaning thru some crazy pain, I'm terrified at the thought of pushing for 90 minutes at this level of pain (that's how long Emmett took). I felt like I needed to push, so my body sort of did it without my instruction. Once I announced "omg I'm pooping" Philip freaked out and ran to get my nurse. 
• 1:50 PM: Nurse came in, removed my blankets, lifted my leg (I was on my side) and said "You're complete, girl!" and called the delivery team. I was hella confused and said "what does that mean??" and she responded with "it means baby is coming" and again I said "WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?"
• 1:55 PM: Nurse literally grabbed my leg and pulled me onto my back because I couldn't (or wouldn't) move, delivery team cleaned me up, someone forced Phil off the couch and to come help hold my left leg. (Phil looked at literally anywhere besides me, I hated him at that moment).
• 2:00 PM: Doctor told me to push! Things happened too fast for me to process, I gave one minimal-effort, experimental push and couldn't believe her when she said "almost there, almost there..."
• 2:01 PM: Next contraction, I actually pushed like I was supposed to and baby was out! I could not believe how quickly it all went! Two pushes vs the hundred or so with Emmett... I asked her "did that really just happen?" and she said "Yes! It's over!" and they comment on how quickly I went from 5cm to birth. 
• 2:05 PM: (probably) placenta is delivered, Philip cuts umbilical cord, and doctor asks for a chair so she can stitch me up comfortably. She said I tore along the same line as a previous tear, but not as badly. 

The Prego Diaries #2: Week 23

I've been wondering when the next time I sit down to blog will be. Someone recently mentioned to me how she loves crafts to keep busy, and I realized I have let go of what used to be one of my favorite hobbies in favor of useless TV watching. Must change that.
So, dear blog, I'm very obviously pregnant again! And it's a baby boy! I always had a feeling it was another boy, but so many people said it was a girl (almost everyone I know) that I started imagining raising a daughter and it sort of stuck until the gender reveal. I feel like I have to re-arrange my brain a little, but thankfully there's tons of hand-me-downs for little brother!

Hands down the hardest part of this has been finding a name... P and I both had long lists of girl names and a huge blank of boy names. To make it even harder, he wants his name to begin with an E, so that limits things a ton. Hopefully we will get there before his birth, poor little guy.

The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow, A Mom's Review

Half a chapter into reading this book, and I knew it would become near and dear to my heart. The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow is a Magical Realism novel about a baby born unable to speak, but with the most incredible gift of hearing. Bonaventure can hear color, dust falling off a moth's wing, the spirit of his deceased father, and the history of inanimate objects, such as the story of a pencil's graphite before being mined. As a toddler, Bonaventure tried to immitate the sounds and mouth movements of adults, but he soon gave it up in favor of listening, because silence was a much better teacher than speech. His father's spirit explained that it wouldn't be good for everyone to know just how accute Bonaventure's hearing was, so once he was old enough to learn sign language and write, he never let on that he could hear so much.

This book is written in a descriptively beautiful language, and even though it's Bonaventure's story, I kept being reminded of my Emmett, who is definitely not silent, but has a speech delay. I'd like to share a particular paragraph that I absolutely loved: 

Dancy Arrow had been traveling the road of her son's missing speech for quite a while, and her feelings on the matter ran in circles. Her main concern was for his safety, since without a voice he couldn't call for help. And it was a source of sadness to her that Bonaventure would never be able to sing. She also felt sorry for herself because of all theat she missed out on: no baby cooing, no cries of delight, no laugther, no questioning why, and no hearing him call her mama. She felt selfish for those feelings, and ashamed, and so forced herself to call to mind all that she did receive from Bonaventure's silence: the need to look into each other's eyes, his busy little hands, the language of his face.

My Emmett is definitely vocal; he babbled nonstop as a baby, shrieks with joy, and has the best, most contagious giggle-laugh. He also has a speech delay, which began as mild and has grown to moderate. This means communication is very hands-on and in-your-face: lots of pointing, gestures, repetition, facial expression, and eye contact. It definitely has its challenges, but more often than not I am amazed and how much Em can communicate with less than 50 words.

When he was just over 2 years old I bought him a water table that came with rubber ducks and frogs... the usual bathtub toys. He "helped" me build it and we set it up outside for him to play. Earlier that month we had bought 2 little frogs for his fish tank, and with his extremely limited language and dragging me back and forth and holding up the toy frog next to his eyes he let me know that the plastic frogs were the same animal as the living frogs in the fish tank even though they look nothing alike. And I was so pleased and proud that he went to great lengths to show me the meaning of the word "same". Over time he has developed his own sign for the word same: two index fingers next to each other pointing up.

The biggest reason I love The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow is that it made me see Emmett's speech delay not as a detriment, but as a gift. I have come to find such joy in his piercing eye contact, with beautiful brown eyes that have a smile all of their own. I love his need for constant motion and the way he explores the world with his whole body. I am secretly proud of his cautious nature; the way he observes and learns and processes nonstop. I love being able to speak complex sentences and see complete understanding in his face, and a determination to be independent. I love his busy little hands using tools and performing tasks which require fine motor skills well above his age. I beam with pride when yet another speech therapist compliments his attention span and desire to learn. I love to see him move at full speed; arms outstretched and little legs pounding the pavement and a shriek of laughter exploding from his lips.
I love my baby boy, and even though his speech delay causes hold-ups here and there, I wouldn’t change him for the world.