Just stay little

Your chubby hand resting on my chest. Your little baby snores permeating every boundary of my heart. I ache with love. #whileyousleep #juststaylittle

I love being your mommy

I should tell you that I love being your mommy. I love being your mommy at 3 am when I'm holding you and comforting you back to sleep, and your tiny body is curled up on my chest and your sweet baby breathes are puffing on my neck, your hand kneading my t-shirt and your legs kicking out the last of your will to stay awake.
I love being your mommy when I notice something new about you, something that seems to please you, and I realize again that you are not just growing in to who you will someday be, you are now today at 4 months old your own unique person. You like to be in communication with your family anyone who will talk to you. The human voice crinkles up your face and scrunches up your body in joy like nothing else. I sometimes wish I felt that pure joy that you feel. Unlike anything else- it is unadulterated, it is untarnished, it is perfect delight that has not yet been challenged by disappointment or pain or fear.
I love being your mommy at bath time. You HATE bath time. You absolutely hate it. Its always surprised me, because it seems it would be a familiar and soothing environment for your tiny baby body, but this has never been so. You have loathed bath time form day one. You inhale and exhale quickly in hyperventilation mode and you wrap your white baby arms around your mama's forearm and you look at me like, "hey man, what the hell, this again??  I thought I made myself clear last time." So bath time is a brief affair occurring three times a week, for now. I scoop you up and lay your wet self directly on my dry-whatever-I'm-wearing, and then wrap your terrycloth baby towel around you until you calm down. It used to break my heart, but now I just chuckle a little at your overreaction. We used to think you'd be like daddy, who is not affected by much at all, and whose calm-cool-collected nature sometimes makes it hard to know if bothersome things are actually bothering him, but not so as of late. It seems you're a bit dramatic. And vocal. BOY are you ever vocal. And I love being your mommy, then, too.
I love being your mommy when I see that very serious, determined look come over your face again. You've been EAGERLY trying to sit up, practically since the day you turned three months. You have zero interest whatsoever in rolling over, but have nearly mastered holding your own bottle. (Which we have had to graduate into a honkin' 9 ounce bottle recently. You can really put it away.)
I was looking through your newborn pictures this morning and I know everyone says it flies by, they change so much, grow so fast...it's true. Your legs were these tiny fragile things, nowhere near as covered in rolls as they are now. I used to creep around not wanting to disturb you, and my stomach brimmed with anxiety about what might ail you. I still creep around, because we still share a room, in a different country now but basically the same arrangement. Someday we will have a home of our own, (or at least of our rent) and I will finally get to give you the nursery I've been dreaming of since I saw the second pink line.
I want so many things for you, it's hard not to be heart broken. I wanted a baby shower, a real baby shower, and a crib, a real crib, and yesterday I was at Barnes and Noble just to clear my head and regain some fragments of my sanity and I saw the wall of infant and baby toys and I nearly burst into tears.

I do know, I truly do know in my deepest heart that YOU are what makes having a child special. Our love for you is what will make your childhood special. I just want so many things for you, and each phase that passes, I ache a little inside at what you lacked because of our circumstances.

My anthem lately is, "It will not always be this way." In the meantime I dangle second hand rattles before you and watch your determination to grab a hold of them, and I listen to your daddy's consolations that you are more than fine, and we will be more than fine very soon.

And until then, I will just keep watching in awe that I get to be your mommy. Last night when you woke up in the darkness, something you rarely do anymore, I smelled your head and kissed your cheeks and my heart was overwhelmed anew at how lucky I am. I whispered that to you. I am so lucky to be your mommy. Sometimes the stresses of life and my postpartum emotional wreck of a self makes that reality a little foggy for me. But I remembered again last night. I do not and could never deserve to have you. I'm so lucky Eisley girl. I am so so lucky.

Our Story

Eisley:

2:30 pm- wet

3:30 pm- nursed

7:30 pm- nursed (about 20 minutes)

8:30-10 pm- sleep

10-10:35 pm- nursed

11- sleep

2 am- nursed

4 am- nursed

You’re here.

Saying my heart exploded when I met you is entirely an understatement…More than just my heart exploded. My entire insides experienced an overwhelming and fierce upheaval. Maybe it is that my heart expanded to occupy my entire body, to accommodate what I feel for you.

Last Sunday, one week ago, severe contractions began. By the middle of the night they were 10 minutes apart, then 7 by morning. I did some of my laboring in the tub, which was soothing, and by 7:30 am Monday morning our bags were by the door and I was yelling through intense pain, waiting as my family rushed around for any last minute things we might need.

I’ve joked for most of this pregnancy that I probably make my taxi drivers leery of taking me anywhere for fear that I will go into labor in their car. But Monday your daddy, papa and nanny piled in the back seat and your laboring mama was bracing herself four minutes apart, shouting to your dad to time and for everyone else to please be quiet until it passed. Our driver didn’tspeak English but he clearly knew what was going on, as “OH MY GOSH OWWWWWWWW!”from the mouth of a swollen, baby bellied woman is universal. I also got very very sick moments before arriving at the hospital, and he had to pull to the side of the road to let me out. He was white knuckled clutching the steering wheel, driving as fast as he possibly could. I wonder what was going through his mind.

8:30 By the time I get to the laboring room, I am 3 cmdilated. Our hospital doesn’t allow papas in the room with mamas for the actual delivery, but they are willing to let yours in for the laboring portion. In fifteen minutes he is suited up in scrubs and knocking on the door, but I have already dilated 8 cm. Our sweet nurse, Fanny, opens the door to him and says, “No need you come in, baby will be here very soon.” I look at her and say, “I won’t be able to have an epidural, will I.” “No need!” she says, and they wheel us to the delivery room.

9:15 There are five or six nurses in here with me, as well as the doctor who will deliver you. Fanny is the only one who speaks English,and she is very pregnant herself. We have butted heads on a few occasions during some appointments- two pregnant ladies sometimes just don’t mix. I was very sensitive, she was very abrasive. But right now, giving birth to you- I am so thankful she is here. I think I tell her this eight or nine times in between contractions, with tears running down my face. She keeps telling me I am so brave, that my baby is coming, and she is not small! I remember thinking that I need to shout louder than this pain to get through it- I was yelling at the top of my lungs. The doctor scolds me- in labor with you!!- NOT TO SHOUT. I want to give her something to shout about.

9:35 Fanny is telling me that she sees your head, that you are almost here, that I am so brave. She tells me to push again when I feel I need to- I tell her I don’t want to push anymore. She squeezes my hand and pours water in my mouth and tells me my baby is almost here. One more, maybe two more times and I can meet you. The pain is absolutely blinding. Exhaustion suddenly turns into extreme focus, and I feel your body- this person that has been growing in me for nearly a year!- come out of mine. Then I hear it. The most beautiful- most moving- most hand crafted for my heart sound- your tiny little baby Eisley cry.

I feel wave on wave on wave of relief. You are here. That you can breathe. That the pain is over.

The doctors have to stitch me and I haven’t seen you yet. I don’t know why this is, but they didn’t feel the need to numb me. Maybe they thought the pressure of labor would have numbed me naturally, but it sure didn't. I feel each and every stitch and am screaming in torment. Again they tell me to relax. Again sweat and tears are running down my face. I ask Fanny again and again- do they know I can feel it. Can they give me medicine. Please no more.

A nurse across the room is wrapping you up, and she brings you over to me. I can’t touch you yet, but she wisely puts your face right up to mine. You open your eyes. You look right into me. You devastate and ruin mein this moment. I can’t believe how gorgeous you are. You’re clean, a little swollen, and your eyelashes are blonde- almost white. So clear, so awake and alert. You’re taking me in and I’m taking you in. And the pain literally washes away. I don’t feel anything except your gaze. I always thought the word "miracle” was tired- but I get it now. Your smell and your eyes and the exploding inside me- I’ll never forget.

There was a lot of craziness over the next day and a half, and they didn't let your daddy meet you until two hours after you were born, and the doctor caused you a sugar crash, and the nurses gave you a heat rash, and at one point the sugar water they tried to give you caused you to choke and turn completely purple while the nurses stood around saying you were fine and tapping your back. Your daddy grabbed you from them and ran out the door and down the hall to NICU- we literally pushed the nurses to follow, yelling that you were not fine and to please help you. Your nanny still says it was theworst moment of her life. I had an IV in my hand and couldn’t follow- your grandpa came back and prayed with me and a few moments later I heard your cry again. Our time in the hospital was a lot to handle, but it really doesn't matter at all now. I told you before that your life is a miracle. You came right on time, you are so long and chubby and beautiful and your daddy is so crazy in love. Your neck is so strong, your grip is so tight, your eyes are so wide.

When I first saw your dad after giving birth to you, I told him that what they say about forgetting the pain- it’s all a lie. How could anyone forget that. A week in and I see what they are talking about. You made a mommy out of me, Eisley. In a second you turned us into a family. I stare at you in awe that you are here- you are finally here and I can finally verify for myself moment by moment that you are okay. You have a diaper rash today and I said that your little cries of pain hurt worse than labor. You break my heart-you absolutely devastate me with emotion! One day you might read this and roll your eyes, but it’s all true. I just can’t believe you're mine.

I guess I’ll stop there because there is enough gush to never really end. Ridiculous loads of love, my baby.

Mama

What I want to teach you.

If I teach you anything, I hope it is the beauty of compassion. I heard once that hate is not the opposite of love, indifference is. I sometimes wonder if people think that showing compassion would make them seen weak. Some people only want to give advice. Maybe it makes them feel less helpless. But a large portion of the time I have found that advice is not what is needed...in times of great trial and pain, advice does not soothe like mercy. It usually burns like salt. My dad (your grandpa) is the very best example of a merciful listener. He has given me grace by not taking sides, not offering advice, just being a safe place to cry out about the thorns digging in my heart. These times are rare, but when they happen, he gives me a tender look that tells me he cares about my pain, and when I'm finished he tells me he loves me. It soothes like balm. Why is it so hard for us to be in the presence of pain without feeling the need to minimize it? Pain need not be compared... Some is certainly greater than others...when I see a homeless person begging, maybe my fortune seems obnoxious to me and brings me shame. There's no need for this. Maybe a rising wave of compassion leading to a wordless prayer and tears are the real language of the heart of mercy. To be able to say honestly- I am in the presence of suffering that I do not understand, and as a human alongside this one, my heart is broken. Because compassion means I have the capacity to feel deeply pain that I myself am not experiencing, as though it were me in their place, as it so easily could have been.

Just thinking.
Xo

High risk in China. What it's like.

I know you're not actually late.

It just feels like you are because we have expected you so many times. You're still two weeks away from your due date, but we've been told to expect you no later than 36 weeks. At one point we were even told 28 weeks. Looks like you're more of a trooper than the doctors expected.

When you grow up and decide to have babies, I'm going to advise you not to do so in China. Now maybe that isn't fair, because I have a few friends with perfectly smooth birthing stories here in china...however, for whatever reason, no medical professional seems to know what to do with us.

At my 36 wk check up they told us the placenta had matured too much again. They gave you one week to hang out in my belly and said to come back the following Tuesday to check in to the hospital and prep for a cesarean. The following day is a Wednesday, and I got my first taste of back labor contractions and I did not care for them. They lasted for 12 hours and I yelled a lot, then they went away and returned Thursday evening. We went to the hospital, and you basically know that whole story. Stayed for two days, tried to induce labor, a host of tests and THEN an actual water test which neither led them to confirm or deny that my water was broken. (they told me the day before that it had.) Sent us home pretty confused.

Tuesday, the day of my actual appointment, comes around and your dad is stuck in Hong Kong. Wednesday I go in for an ultrasound bc I am beginning to realize that I am told a vastly different story about you each visit. They tell me nothing about the placenta, but this doctor is concerned about the umbilical cord maturity. Suggests I stay in hospital for next week for monitoring. I am reluctant (actually, I refuse) to stay there again, and want to go ahead with the cesarean that was already planned a week ago. Doctor tells me to come in following day fasting for blood work and other prep, and I will be checked in and have the surgery the following day. (Friday).

Thursday: bags packed and ready, again. I tried to fast, but I'm a pregnant diabetic. I lasted about 7 hours before my blood sugar crashed and I had to eat. In the morning I try calling two numbers I've been given to find out what I should do. (I've gone all the way out there and been sent home before after unsuccessful fasts and I wanted to avoid that.) (And honestly, who expects a pregnant diabetic to fast for 12 hours??)
No answer. I arrive late and am lectured. Resist urge to throw rocks/curse, mostly bc I have no rocks in reaching distance. Nurse looks at my file and says I don't need blood work bc I was just here a few days ago, and there was no need for me to fast. (Do they think I am coming up with these instructions on my own??) The doctor who told me to fast had my file and knew I was just in the hospital. I probably didn't roll my eyes but I'm sure I sighed loudly.
Get to maternity ward. Maternity ward doctor asks through translator why i want to make my baby come early. Why do I want to have a surgery....seriously??
She then says that even if they could procure my blood type, the Chinese blood would not mix with the foreigners blood.
Seriously. She said that.
She then admits (after A LOT of back and forth that felt like hitting your head on a wall...really, don't try it.) that she doesn't want to treat me bc I am foreigner and she feels if something went wrong, it would reflect poorly on her.
At this point I actually feel compassion. (kind of refreshing bc all I had been feeling was frustration.) I felt sad for the fear she lives under. I know Jesus and I still live in fear. What kind of chains must she be in to just lie and grasp at straws to avoid treating me.
They check us in shortly after (I still don't know why) and we wait for 4 or 5 hours (your grandparents and I) until she finally comes and says there is nothing wrong that would be cause for us to take you out early. This is not after another exam or test. I assume it was after reviewing my file, but who knows, because those same files led other doctors to believe you need to come out immediately.
She suggests we stay in the hospital for monitoring. I don't understand this bc if nothing is wrong, why can't i just go home. I say I stayed here before based on this hospitals recommendation, was charged obscenely and then discharged under the conclusion that it was all unnecessary. I feel like a puppet that two small children are fighting over.
She tells me that the hospital
Policy is that if a baby is born before 38 weeks, she will be place in NICU regardless of how healthy she is, and that would cost us a great deal. I say fine. Schedule the cesarean for next week, when we are 38 weeks, and I will come in twice for additional monitoring.
Two days later i come in for a checkup- fetal monitoring, blood
Pressure, etc. So glad it was a Sunday and your dad could come with me...At this checkup my blood pressure is high, my ankles and feet are swollen, and your heart is beating a little on the quick side. They also measure some contractions and feel strongly that I should check in to the hospital.
I cry. Because Im overwhelmed, and exhausted of being told things that don't pan out or add up. They are saying edemia and preeclampsia and I've read of these things and i don't want to take the risk, and our sweet English speaking nurse is insisting we stay so that if you are in distress they can detect it right away and rescue you. We agree. Check in. Pay. Etc. Get to our room. A new maternity ward doctor comes, takes my blood pressure, reviews all my paperwork, and examines my abdomen. Says you have dropped half way. (Best news of the week little girl). Says my results are all normal and I can go home.
Seriously.
They also told me that if you are in distress, I will feel you moving a lot more than normal. If anything changes, I should come back.
We are discharged, get our money back, have to wait an hr for he hospital to open again ( by then it had closed for "nap") so that we can buy insulin. My blood sugar is crashing bc I haven't eaten in 7 hours. I stuff chocolate into my mouth and drink your dads tea and tears are running down my face and he just keeps kissing my head and telling me I'm doing a great job and how much he loves me and that he knows you'll be ok and in that moment I'm so thankful for him.

We come home. I go straight to bed. We were going to
Have a baby shower today. The house looks lovely, but we had to
Cancel. I'm feeling heart broken and unsure of how you are faring. Tugged in so many directions and untrusting of any doctor I have seen In the last 9 months. I feel criticized by them and unhelped. I can't sleep so I take a bath, and you start moving like crazy. It lasts for hours. Should I just enjoy this, or should I worry?
Meanwhile everyone wants to know what's going on, because they love you and they love your mommy and daddy. I just want to sleep. I cry a lot. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel better.

Waiting

We've been home for a couple days to wait things out...one doctor with one test said my water broke partially, hence the Pitocin drip. The next day, after hours of trying to be induced, painful contractions, and no progress, another doctor did another test and conveyed that it was "safe" and ok to go home. Now, does that mean my water did not break? Broke partially? I'm not convinced it was ever broken. I was going to go the hospital before I felt any leaking anyways, bc my contractions were close together and strong. We ended up paying a lot of money to stay bc they assumed it was broken based on what someone else told them. We asked over and over for a test, which they only agreed to days later. Your pop was not pleased, but your heavenly Father has enough money for all these shannanagins. I had mild contractions Friday, then Saturday morning, then nothing. We did meet a sweet and precious lady who stayed in our room with us, though, (the chocolate lady) who was 12 DAYS OVERDUE. We got to talk about Gods love and about why Christians pray, and we've been texting back and forth since we left. She wrote me Late last night to tell me her little boy FINALLY made his way into the world. It was a special thing to be on the receiving end of such sweet and personal news. I'm trying to focus on that friendship having resulted from the hospital stay, and not on all the unpredictability and misunderstanding that wracked my nerves and raised my blood pressure.
Your heart rate dropped Thursday night around 3 am, and they did some extra monitoring the rest of the night. You seemed ok other than somewhat fluctuating btwn chill and wired. You still haven't dropped. I don't think you're interested in meeting everyone yet.
Tuesday is your expected arrival date, based on what they told me last about how the placenta is looking...of this I feel equally unconvinced, because I get such a variety of reads depending on which doctor is examining us. I guess we'll see in our ultrasound when Tuesday comes around.
And in more wonderful news, your papa left a few hours ago to receive your grandparents at the Hong kong airport. Your nanny has requested that you wait until she gets here. Maybe you're just honoring her request.

Love you bird. Ready when you are. Mama.

A birthing story. To be continued.

Hey little girl.
Well. You're gonna be born in China. Possibly tonight, but who is to say. Apparently not the gynecologist, or any of the four nurses that we've seen
Tonight.
Monday I had a 36 wk check up, where I was told an ultrasound would be unnecessary. I insisted, because I know what our risks are despite the doctors reluctance to look at neither me nor at our medical record. In the ultrasound they found that the placenta is a bit too mature again, and as a result you would need to come
Out by next week. Plans were made for us to check in to the hospital the following week.
Yesterday, the day after our appointment, started out normal, but by 2:30 pm I was contracting and dilating in an unmistakable way. The pain began in my lower back. Intense and sharp. Difficult to breathe through. They persisted at 15 minute intervals, lasting 30 seconds to a minute at a time. This continued through the night.
Around 3 am the contractions wrapped themselves around my abdomen, like particularly awful menstrual cramps, and sped up to 10 minutes apart. Around 7 am I fell asleep somehow, and woke around 8:30 mid contraction. That was my last one of the daytime hours.
I spent the rest of today walking, squatting, pacing. Taking hot baths. Anything to get the labor-ing on the move again. Your dad and I went to dinner with some friends, where I frequently excused myself to pace outside, breathing through fresh back labor pains.
After dinner our friend took some maternity pictures of us 3. Someday when I show you them ill tell you this is what I looked like when I was in labor with you. Annoyed at your good natured and fun loving daddy, and grimacing through the pain.
We piled into a taxi, called the school driver, dashed into our apartment to grab our hospital bags, all the while timing my contractions. It was around this time that I thought I noticed some leaking.
We were picked up by our bosses, and headed to the hospital. The ride there was pure anxiety. I couldn't breathe, My blood sugar was plummeting, and everyone was asking me if i was having a contraction every time I breathed in sharply. It's a lot of pressure for someone who doesn't know what's about to happen, who will be able to translate when we get there, and if indeed they are in labor. All I knew was it HURT.
We got to the hospital, realized we had forgotten all our money, and we're ushered in to a less than sterile room where a Cantonese woman with plastic gloves pried my legs open and shoved her fingers inside me mercilessly, lecturing me in Chinese. Everyone around us discussed her findings without telling me what was going on, and around this time your daddy was being cornered into signing a paper saying he understands he will not be permitted in the room with me when you are born.
Someone had translated over the phone to the doctor that my water had broken, which I was not confident of. I tried to explain that I wasn't sure, but that was never translated. The gynecologist looked like she was 18 and was constantly giggling and playing on her iPhone, taking pictures of herself and ichatting with someone. She told me I would need a cesarian Birth bc my pelvis is different from an Asian woman's. They needed a sample of my urine, and insisted I pee into a skinny vial while sitting on the bed, which was lined with one of those pads u use to train puppies where to pee. I refused and walked to the restroom, which was the MOST GHASTLY smelling, disgusting place I have been yet- the smell of just being in there still lingers, hours later.
They moved me from this empty room to one ten feet away with another woman watching Chinese soaps at midnight and coughing up a lung. The "biohazard" bins were open and spilling over. I kept asking your daddy if we could please just go home. My contractions had all but stopped, and the nurses said I had not begun to dilate. One said my cervix was soft, and one said it was not (lots of merciless checking going on) and they concluded from these two opinions that I had a "50 % chance" of delivering tonight. I want them to explain how they know my water has broken, but they have given me no such explanation. Now we are In a room with 8 others, laying on wooden beds. Somehow your pops is passed out beside me without any pillows, and there is a man sitting right outside the open doored maternity ward chain smoking and tossing his cigarettes on the hospital floor.
We managed to both run out of minutes at the same bad time tonight, and I can't help but think of my religions class
Two years ago, and the belief in "omens"...
How did I get here?

Have been having contractions again, these much more localized in my abdomen, 7 minutes apart. I hope they persist. I hope you come tonight.

Last nights 2 am contractions came to nothing. I am trying to request that a nurse or doctor do what they have been calling a "paper test" to see if my water has indeed broken, but no one will give me the time of day. I am supposed to move downstairs this morning, but I don't know when, the only nurse I could communicate with has left for her morning shift in VIP. She knew less than I did about what is going to happen with me today. She just kept saying I must stay, and I must not walk around, bc my water has broken. "But how do they know it has broken?" "Firstly, because you told us so." "But I didn't." "We can test this." "Have they? Will they?" "Not so clear." Awesome.
The precious and sweet thing is that there is another pregnant woman in the room who speaks English, and this morning when i called the nurse repeatedly and got nowhere she spoke up from her cot and said,"hello, what can i do for you?" and offered me
her chocolates.
A few minutes ago five nurses crowded around me to touch my belly and to marvel at my insulin pump.
I am not convinced My water has broken, but I will admit that I hope it did. I want labor to be imminent. I am in a lot of pain.

Got of the phone (bc it died and we forgot our charger in the mayhem!) after a soothing comforting encouraging talk with my mom in law. Can't wait til she gets here. Talked about how I am not in chinas hands, at the Mercy of The decisions i cant Make Sense of. I'm in Jesus'. Capable Jesus who has purposes your life and mine, and given us a little miracle and a piece of grace in you.


1:45 pm. We're in the delivery area about to be induced. They said David can't come with me. I cried entering the room and who did I find for company but my English speaking chocolate baring friend. She said his will be a special experience and not to be afraid, we can talk. She added minutes to my phone online. I'm feeling comforted and unbelievably loved by my Lord and Savior.