Babies

Our own one-year-old boy!

I have been reflecting on the many wonderful qualities of babies lately. Two things have caused this, mainly: first, my own baby turned one year old today! (What?!?! Waaaaahahahaaaa!) And secondly, I tried watching a documentary that was too horrifying even for me.

On the first point, my own Matthew baby has become a person of years rather than months?

That's how I feel about that. 

He is still the nicest baby I could have ever hoped for. He made a frighteningly sudden entrance to the world, but since then he has just been incredibly good-natured. I love the way he loves music. He will dance or sing along to almost anything he hears, especially if it has a good beat. He's starting to love books, though he has little patience for them. And I love how he is so interested in learning about the world. He is clearly very interested in learning to speak and in the nuances of interacting with others. I can tell because of how intently he studies people. He's really trying to learn and he is starting to imitate words and gestures more. Watching babies learn to be like the people around them is definitely one of my favorite parts of parenting.

But I think that one of the best parts of being a parent by far is watching my kids become siblings. Having kids can be exhausting and maddening, but let's not forget that the joyous times are almost divine. There is nothing like watching your new baby idolize and imitate their older siblings, or watching your older kids become protective and caring of their younger siblings. Seeing Matthew grow up is definitely bittersweet, but seeing him become a playmate to his brother and sister- seeking them out to join in their games, or trying to get a laugh out of them and then doing the same thing over and over to keep them laughing, is one of my favorite things about having kids. I know having only one child is just right for some people, but what a joy it is to make your own pack of playmates who love (and sometimes annoy) each other and are all part of your own family! 

As we leave the baby stage behind and begin to look forward to toddler-hood (Matthew is already halfway-successfully walking almost everywhere!), I've been thinking about how very unique and special babies are. The smell of a warm baby is wonderful. Their early grunts and wheezes and then cooing and babbles (and first baby laughs!) are the best. I love the way they feel when they wiggle and snuggle. I love the way their eyes search yours when they are asking for something. I love the way they so completely need people and can be so utterly satisfied by having their needs met. It is wonderful that they are the early stages of humans that can potentially change the world, but I've just been appreciating that baby stage for how incredible it is. 

Maybe that's why I finally met a documentary I wasn't able to finish.

I've mentioned before that I watch a lot of documentaries. It's kind of my way of learning about the world and how people see it while I'm in a season of life that doesn't allow for a lot of exploration. Also, for whatever reason, I'm drawn to the really raw, depressing kind. I am not the type to watch a documentary about food or artists. My style is the kind of film that will leave you down for a week, wondering what kind of world we live in and how you can change anything while you're such a small, insignificant part of it. War, orphans, torture, incarceration, violence, etc. Don't you also want to know about the ugly parts of the world so you can change them? No? Just me then? Fine.

Anyway, I read an article recently that was written in response to the PBS Documentary "After Tiller," about the plight of the few doctors who still perform late-term abortions in the wake of the murder of Dr. George Tiller. Matt Walsh, the author of the article, made some good points, I thought, but I'd never seen the documentary, so I didn't know if it was particularly fair or accurate. Because Facebook likes to broadcast everything I do or think, one of my friends saw that I'd "liked" the article and said she actually thought the film was very balanced and heartbreaking. We have different political views, but since I respect her and enjoy PBS documentaries and since I usually believe in examining both sides of an issue before making a decision, I decided to watch it. 

(SPOILERS AHEAD)

I should start off by saying that I classify myself as pro-life. Even after I became a Christian, I was probably more pro-choice because I'd never really thought about abortion. It just seemed like adults should be able to make their own decisions about their lives. But I made some offhand comment one day to my then-boyfriend Joseph about how bothersome pro-life protesters on campus were and he stopped me and asked what my views were about abortion and why. He said it was very important to him because of what abortion was to the babies that were aborted: unspeakably cold, cruel, murder. I'd never thought about the fact that there were at least two lives- mother's and child's- that were impacted by abortion. I decided to look into it more and what I found horrified me. I became pro-life and my resolve only strengthened over time, especially after I had children. 

I confess (unashamedly) that I was only able to get through the first five minutes of the film before I became so horrified and disgusted that I had to turn it off. And I've watched a lot of documentaries about horrifying subjects. There is a brief introduction to Dr. George Tiller, his murder, and the other few late-term abortion providers in the United States. Then we are shown a scene in an examination room with a doctor, a nurse or two, and a woman who isn't shown. The doctor performs an ultrasound. You can see a baby on the screen, moving around like any healthy baby. He tells her she can look or not look at the screen, it's her choice. He sounds very soothing and compassionate. The film cuts to later in the same examination room with the same people. The mother is now lightly sobbing. The nurses bustle around. The doctor speaks to her gently, like a father, assuring her how completely natural and okay it all is. It's unclear if he is referring to her reaction or the procedure, but it doesn't really matter. We are to understand that her baby is dead. 

The people in the room killed the baby that was innocently moving around on the screen only moments before. Those that didn't commit the act were accomplices. It is an atrocity committed on what was clearly a human being, though apparently an inconvenient one. And the most sickening part is listening to the compassionate voice of the doctor over the sobs of the mother, who obviously instinctively feels that she just committed an unnatural and irreversible crime. I couldn't watch anymore. Like I said, a baby is incredibly special. And it grieves me that there are people who facilitate the murder of something so precious, and that there are mothers who see killing their children as their best and only option. It is strange to me that I could pay someone to give my baby a lethal injection, then cut them apart and rip them from my body one week; but if, a few weeks later, I were to give birth to that same baby and pick them up and throw them against a wall, I could be charged with murder. It is all unnatural. It is all wrong. 

So those are the reasons babies have been on my mind recently. I don't think my love of babies made the documentary more distasteful than it would have been at any other time. I think the subject matter is just awful. It has made me think about what I can do to help the at-risk babies and their mothers that turn to abortion. I don't have an answer for that yet. Until then, I'll just enjoy and snuggle the babies (and, soon, toddlers!) that I have been blessed with. They are so special.

Because babies do things like this! 

And also they can be cute like my babies!

One month: We made it!

Matthew and his one month accomplishments!

With each baby I remember my mother-in-law's advice to circle the date on the calendar a month after the baby is born. That way in the dark times during the first month when nothing is right, you can look at the calendar and know that at that point, almost all the problems you're facing will be resolved. It has been great advice.

February 2014 will be known in our memories as the month we all made it through (barely). 

Matthew was born an incredibly healthy baby, praise God! He also naturally put himself on a schedule of being asleep for about four hours and awake for an hour or two. We can work with that kind of schedule. I had to get stitches, which I wasn't happy about, but which I was also pretty much expecting. Our difficulties the first couple of weeks mostly involved my recovery. (Spoiler: getting stitches down there is not fun at all and kind of affects everything you want to do, including sitting up, moving around, and walking.) I seemed to be getting better, and then something happened at about two weeks and suddenly my stitches started pulling and stinging. It was so discouraging, since stitches are easily my least favorite part of recovery. I talked with my midwife about it and she said that because of the way she'd had to tie the stitches, they might not have dissolved and may need to be removed. That elicited one of my two breakdowns during our first month. I just broke down and cried at the thought of anyone having to mess with my stitches at all. It probably had nothing at all to do with post-pregnancy hormones. ;) Thankfully, a friend read that I was having problems and stopped by with a bag to help me feel better. It had cold packs, homeopathic arnica montana tablets, a donut pillow, and an herbal sitz bath mix. I could have cried. It was so amazing! I used those for a couple weeks straight and miraculously one day the pain and stitches disappeared. It was such a blessing! That was something I really really wanted to heal up on its own. I'm so glad no one had to look at it or mess with it. 

Breastfeeding was also, pretty much as I expected, excruciatingly painful. I'd describe it as being stabbed repeatedly in one place over and over again. In addition, I managed to develop cracked nipples on both sides, which just made it, if possible, even more painful. I only screamed once. I only broke down sobbing once because I wanted to feed a crying baby but just couldn't face the pain. Mostly I just bit down on a rag and tried to bear it. When I developed cracks, I decided to give myself a break for about ten hours, so I just pumped and fed Matthew from a bottle during that time. After that, things got better very quickly. By about two weeks, breastfeeding was definitely bearable, and mostly painless.

Then The Cold hit.

Not the weather- no, that comes later. Liam was the first to come down with it: a productive cough even

Sick and tired Liam.

though he didn't seem to have a runny nose, and what he indicated was a headache. He was whiny and clingy and generally miserable. A couple days later, the runny nose appeared along with a high fever of 103. The fever (between 101 and 103 degrees), runny nose, and stomach upset continued for FIVE DAYS. Poor little guy just sat miserably on the couch not moving and barely keeping his eyes open the whole time. He tested negative for influenza, so as far as we could tell, he just got the worst cold ever. Three or four days after Liam got sick, Diana and I came down with the cold. Thankfully for adults it just seemed to involve a sore throat, headache, runny nose and cough. I was happy to get sick because I hoped as an EBF (Exclusively BreastFed) baby, Matthew would avoid it entirely that way. Unfortunately, it was so contagious that at the tender age of two weeks old, Matthew ended up catching it too. He didn't get the fever (thank goodness!), but he did get a runny nose and most unfortunately, a cough. It was so sad to watch a little newborn having painful coughing fits. It caused him to spit up more often than he usually did. Thankfully, he still kept gaining weight. But they definitely seemed to bother him. He snuffled and coughed and choked during the night so much that we got another humidifier for our room and put him to sleep in his swing for a couple of weeks until the drainage was mostly gone.

At the same time, there was an unusually heavy snowstorm and we ended up with over a foot of snow at our house and no way to really get out. Imagine, if you will, two sick, sleep-deprived parents, one still healing from having a baby and struggling with painful breastfeeding, the other beginning to feel the effects of cabin fever; two children with coughs and runny noses alternating being listless and being whiny because they're sick and confined to the house; and an infant with his first icky cold. There were some nice moments of family bonding, but there were also some rough times indeed.

So here we are, all healthy again, all healed again. Matthew is growing like crazy (11 lbs 11 oz at his six week appointment!), really tuning into people, and starting to give out more and more smiles. We're getting into a rhythm of being a family of five. I still take sleep where I can get it and only manage to get one thing from my long to-do list accomplished each day, but we're working on adjusting to this new normal. I've been so blessed to have the most amazing help from Joseph, our families, and our friends. They brought food, gave us space when we needed it, watched kids when we needed, and were around to just talk and help around the house. Joseph and I always talk about how we're open to moving because we love travel and new experiences, but I am incredibly grateful that we've been able to spend our family-growing years with such a wonderful community of people. I think it's that and a lot of praying that got us through the first month. I'm excited to see how life changes and keeps getting better in the months to come!

Matthew giving out baby smiles!

Matthew Timothy Sullivan

Early in the morning on Wednesday, January 22nd, we welcomed our sweet new baby boy to the world. He was born at 12:38 AM. He weighed 8 lbs, 10 oz and was 21 inches long.

Though many people thought we were secretly holding out about knowing the gender of our baby, we honestly didn't have a clue. It was about 5 minutes before we even checked. That's how concerned we were about it. ;) We were surprised and delighted to find we had a new baby boy. I think I mentioned before that I thought Liam would enjoy having a little brother to roughhouse with more than Diana would enjoy having a little sister to boss around play with.

His Name

We had a short list of boys names and girls names picked out for our mystery baby. Joseph has known his best friend Matt for over 20 years and wanted to do something to honor that, which is why we went with Matthew. Timothy was a pretty easy middle name choice too. I know a lot of good Timothys: it's my dad's first name, Joseph's dad's middle name, and also the name of my unofficial dad in Virginia. It seemed like a good solid name for a boy. 

Kids' Reactions

Diana holding Matthew for the first time!

Labor with Matthew began to pick up around the kids' bedtime, so we just put them to sleep at home. It wasn't my plan to have them around for the birth since I am LOUD and I worried they would be concerned for me, but labor progressed so quickly that we just let them be. Despite the fact that I was louder than I've ever been, the kids slept through everything. (Also, I am forever grateful to our next-door neighbors for not reporting us to the police through three disturbing-sounding home births.) Liam was the first up the next morning and he blinked thoughtfully, pointed and said "Baby" several times, then made a peace offering of a toy car to the baby. Since the baby didn't seem interested, Liam just went on with his day. Diana was absolutely *IN LOVE* with Matthew. She was excited and immediately wanted to hold him. She looked him over and talked about all the things she would teach him and even hummed him some songs. She loves this baby and will be a wonderful big sister to him. I suspect Liam will be more interested when the baby is more interactive. 

Labor and Delivery

(If you are not interested in all the details, run away NOW.)

I'd had false labor on the Friday before Matthew was born, so I was slightly bitter and determined to ignore any more contractions until the last possible moment. On Tuesday, the day I actually went into labor, I went to the gym, picked up some things at the grocery store, and even went to my scheduled appointment with my midwife. By 2-3 PM, I was having contractions that were decidedly different than Braxton-Hicks. They were deep-inside crampy contractions. But since they weren't particularly strong and were 8-15 minutes apart, depending on whether I was lying down or walking around, I decided to ignore them. I mentioned them to Lisa at our appointment and she told me she bet I would be having my baby that night. I tried not to get my hopes up and went home, where they still weren't very strong or close together, but definitely weren't going away. 

By the time the kids went to bed, contractions were 7-9 minutes apart. After a few hours, they hadn't gotten any closer together and I began to despair that I'd really have a baby. I went to take a shower and the contractions jumped to 2.5 minutes apart. Since I was still not really "feeling" them, I was a little doubtful, but we called Lisa anyway. That was at 11:30 PM. By the time she got to the house, I was on all fours on the floor having to make sounds to get through each contraction. The contractions were deep and involved a lot of back ache, so I moved on to the bed and squeezed Joseph's hands through each one while Lisa rubbed my back. It felt so good. It was late and I was feeling tired, so I was basically quiet and relaxed between contractions. When they came, they were very deep and hard to take. I started yelling through them. The urge to push came not long after they got very strong. After only a few pushes, my water broke and also all hell broke loose. With the last two kids, my water broke only in heavy labor, but with this labor, it basically exploded. (Ew.) I was afraid it had gotten the opposite wall. The midwives said it soaked the bed. At that point, I had no sense of time, but it felt like there were two HUGE pushes and then Matthew's head was out. Huge, frightening pushes. Aside from being pushed way past the point of pain I thought I could take, I was actually a bit terrified. I probably looked like a terrified wild animal. I am surprised I didn't scare the living daylights out of Joseph. I was pulling myself up with his hands, bellowing and screaming to God to please give me my baby, arching my back, and letting my breathing get way out of control. I remember Lisa calling to me to breathe more slowly and not arch my back. It was so scary and intense for me. But it was very quick and his head was out. Another push and his body came out too. One of my favorite miraculous parts of natural childbirth is how once the baby is out, nothing else matters. I went from being terrified and way beyond my pain level to pushing myself up, looking at the baby, rubbing him, and telling him how much I loved him. The labor pain was instantly gone. Of course that was at 12:38, less than an hour after Lisa had arrived.

Matthew cried not long after coming out. He has a healthy set of lungs. His little head was very round and his face wasn't squished, maybe because he spent so little time being pushed out. For my entire pregnancy, I'd been worried that since I had two healthy births, this was the one where something terrible would happen to me or the baby. Thankfully, that wasn't the case. God was with us and taking care of us. I tore again, but I'd kind of expected I would, so the stitches weren't a surprise. Matthew was born with a tongue-tie, so Lisa clipped it before he even tried nursing the first time. I was surprised at how un-phased he was by the very quick process. He cried more at being unwrapped from his warm blankets. 

And that's how our new baby boy came into the world! His eating and waking schedule is currently pretty mixed up, so Joseph and I are getting most of our sleep in the early/late morning. Thankfully, we have lots of help from wonderful family members with our other kids, which is such a blessing. I love my kids and want to be with them, but it really is nice not to have to worry about them, and for Joseph to be able to get some sleep since he's taking care of the kids and house and work these days. I know from experience that these sleepless days that are so frustrating for me because my body is healing and I can't do everything I want to do will pass soon. Soon breastfeeding won't be excruciating, soon we'll be able to massage Matthew's schedule to fit our own, soon I'll be able to help out more around the house and spend time with my big kids. Everything keeps getting better, and we're so happy to have a new baby and for everyone to be healthy.