Joseph Zerin's birth story

It’s hard to not have expectations with a second baby. I expected Joseph to come early. Raeford was eight days early and a whooping 9 lbs 1 oz. Then I saw my due date come and go and my belly expand to where it has never gone before, I thought, “This is different”.

Labor started probably four or five times over the last six weeks. I’d feel regular contractions for more than two hours and get excited. “Yes, I’m done!” … and then they would stop. And then I would have a toddler ready to play in the morning. It was exhausting.

And then I got red raspberry leaf tea. One of my midwives recommended it to help strengthen my uterus for labor. Mr. Graff, loving soul that he is, made two and a half quarts of that vile stuff which I drank at the rate of a quart a day. Blessedly, my twitching contractions stopped.

The problem, besides exhaustion, with twitching contractions is that it felt like my uterus was constantly contracting, just without coordination. In medical literature, it’s called “irritable uterus”. I was certainly irritable.

For two days, I had that nasty red raspberry leaf tea and no contractions. I slept beautifully and felt great about life, even with being more than a week overdue. Then, labor started.

While labor with Raeford was a marathon, Joseph was a high-energy sprint. Labor started when I put Raeford down for his afternoon nap. He wailed for about twenty minutes while I lay on the floor next to his crib ostensibly trying to show him how a nap looked. Right as he fell asleep, I felt my first contraction. It was different than anything else I felt in previous weeks or in labor with Raeford. It started low, grew really intense, surrounded my belly, and then stopped. “This is different.”

And it continued for the rest of the afternoon and evening, every ten to twenty minutes. I called my midwife to let her know. Mr. Graff came home and we all played Scrabble. It’s labor tradition. We got ready for bed. I wrote in my journal and read my scriptures. I happened to be in Ether 12 that night and read, “For the brother of Jared said unto the mountain Zerin, Remove---and it was removed…” (Ether 12:30).

We’d already decided on a name for our baby, Joseph Zerin, as in the mountain that the brother of Jared moved. Mountains are places that are close to God, like temples. They are also tall, strong, and immovable—except when a prophet of the Lord tells them to move---then they pick up and move.

Faith to move mountains. I want that kind of faith. I’m nervous about what experiences it will take to develop that kind of faith. From the beginning of this pregnancy, I felt like something was going to challenge us and our baby. At first, I thought it was twins (which I might lose my marbles with two babies), then we thought he might be breech, and then we worried about being GBS positive. None of these things turned out to be an issue, though. We got an ultrasound to show that he was head down (I knew that, or rather my bum knew it.) And as for being GBS positive, from the time my water broke until he was born was only eight minutes, so it became a non-issue.

I turned out the lights, full of thoughts about the importance of names and grateful for our new baby. About an hour later, labor got intense and I had Mr. Graff call the midwife. Nicole got to our home around 1:30 a.m. She and Nets set up the bedroom with equipment. They had a birth stool that I sat on for awhile. I couldn’t believe how intense contractions felt and remembered again that I would probably ask for pain relief if I were in the hospital. How do women give birth in a hospital?

Another comment on contractions: they actually felt like textbook contractions are suppose to feel. They started, got intense, and then went away entirely. Compared to six weeks of low-level, misfiring twitches, this was bearable.

Somewhere in the midst of labor I asked, “why do babies always come in the middle of the night?” Nets, bless her heart, answered, with a straight face, “So your nomadic tribe would not be on the move.” I laughed until my next contraction.

Then I started transitioning, around 3:30 a.m. I moved over to the bed and the only way to get comfortable was to stretch out—lay on my side holding my arms over my head and reaching through my toes. I remember puking up about a quart of Gatorade last time, but this time I only felt like retching and tasted cinnamon in my mouth. Mercy. I can barely look at Gatorade now.

Nicole suggested I change positions, so I went to the bathroom, but didn’t make it back.

Frances asked me later, “Why the bathroom?”

Well, let me explain. Bathrooms are safe, and labor is scary. I went in to try to relieve my bladder and my water SHOT out. It felt like my plug exploded. I didn’t know it was my water until someone told me later. I moved to hold onto the tub. Bathrooms also have lots of hard, stable surfaces… as an added bonus it was dark—just the night light was on and felt private (even with three other people in there). Nicole urged me to come back to the bedroom (where everything was set up), but nothing doing. I was there and staying.

I couldn’t see the other people in the bathroom because I was facing the other way, but I heard them. I would push, and someone said, “he’s crowning”. Then Mr. Graff started narrating the action, “I see his forehead, a nose… there’s an eyebrow, shoulders, you’re doing good!” I liked the narration because I could focus on the fact that it would soon be done.

Joseph was about halfway out when I panicked. ‘If he gets stuck,’ I thought, ‘I might die.’ Then I pictured myself trying to escape, waddling away with a baby halfway out and figured it might be best to just push. So I did.

He came out with a rush of warm water that filled the floor, felt good on my knees, and smelled familiar and comforting. Mr. Graff caught him. I laid back across the entrance to the bathroom and was handed my baby. He gave a wet cry.

We could hear water in his lungs and Joseph had a hard time clearing it out. Fifteen minutes later, Mr. Graff called 911 and an ambulance came to pick him up. Before it could get there, my body pushed my placenta out halfway and I finished it. Mr. Graff helped me up into our bed and he left with Joseph (on our cookie sheet with a heating pad) for the hospital.

All through my pregnancy, I felt like something was going to be challenging. In the end, it turns out that our gentle Joseph has a small jaw, part of the Pierre Robin sequence. His small jaw causes his tongue to fall back and block his airway making breathing and swallowing difficult. He also has a cleft in his soft palate.

While Joseph was lying on my newly deflated belly, I kept thinking this is going to be okay. He’s going to be okay, even though I knew he needed extra help. I kept thinking about my blessings, about the goodness God has shown me. I’m grateful for this little boy.

Now for stats:

He was born at 4:04 a.m., 10 lbs. 5 oz., 21 inches long, with a 14 inch head and a 15 inch chest. Nicole said she thought he was about 9 lbs. after he left for the hospital and that I could have done a 10 lbs. baby. Showed her.

The next one can’t be any bigger. Red raspberry leaf tea all the way. 

And pictures: 

This was when he still had the IV; I'm glad that's gone. The orange wire is his feeding tube. He has a nasal trumpet in the first two pictures, but they found that he could breathe without it and it came out. 

The nurses dress him in clothes from home. It makes it feel more normal. 

I think his eyes are a dark blue, right now. 

He has a special squishy, moldable bed because he spends most of his time on his side or stomach to keep his tongue from falling back easily. The glowing red light here is is oxygen saturation monitor. 

We gave his crib a picture of the D.C. temple. 

Play Time

Rae's happy place would be a room full of people to play with. I'm encouraged by this because sooner rather than later, we'll have a house like this. It's fun to watch him interact with other little kids. Mostly he just parallel plays with them, but sometimes he interacts, too. 

There's only four kids here, but it felt like little ones crawling everywhere! And Rae's right in the thick of them. 

He did wander off to find the play kitchen inside our friend's real kitchen. It's a pretty awesome kitchen.  Just like Daddy, Rae loves playing in his kitchen. 

He loves this little girl. Rather, he loves her stuff and tries to get her attention by taking and replacing her things. She doesn't get it and screams. Rae doesn't get that he upset her and like the true little scientist, he keeps testing for different reactions. 

There's a bouncer that lives in the Relief Society room/ mother's lounge. Rae likes climbing into it and because he's bigger than a lot of the other non-nursery kids, he gets it. 

 We talk a lot about "gentle touches" and being "soft" or "nice". Here he's trying to be gentle with another little boy at the park and pat his head. It works for a little while.

Then he tries to share. I'm rather surprised by how much he does share. He doesn't share all the time, but frequently. I hope that doesn't change. 

I feel that Rae changes so quickly it's hard to remember that all the things he's doing are new to him. Today for example, he came tearing around the corner into the kitchen topless. How did he get his long sleeved shirt off? Did Mr. Graff help him? Nope, he did it by himself and was super proud of the fact, thank you very much. 

When he was a baby, it was easier to see change, change now seems to be exponential. He learns so much, so fast. I'm sure he'll be explaining physics to me soon. 

Yikes. 

Home improvement

So, even though we have TWICE the square footage as our first apartment, it feels like we have HALF the storage space. How does that even work? 

Anyway, I've wanted to put up shelves for a long time, but stalled on the know-how. I feel super proud to figure it out, though. This is my first shelf. Sanded, stained, and installed in our entry way. I like the mirror, too. 

Emboldened by success, I decided to put up bookshelves, too. Bookcases were just too much temptation for Rae and I would find books everywhere and more distressing, in sad states and conditions. Shelves, then were a better solution--high and out of the way. 

We put up the brackets. I sanded and stained the two 6' boards and two 3' boards. 

 

Mr. Graff has excellent stud bracket hanging skills.  

Mr. Graff is applying a polyurethane outer coat on the long shelves here. 

 I used a power drill. 
Mom says that power drills are the best. I understand why.

And here are my finished shelves! 

I'm prodigiously proud of them. 

Quilting

Here are pictures from my first quilting expedition. I used flannel receiving blankets to make a four-patch design. The one on the ironing board is Mr. Graff's; he used two baby cloth books, cut them up and sewed them together. 

I was so excited to start quilting that I used a yard stick, chalk, and scissors to cut out all the squares. Mr. Graff helped me sew the squares and gave me a basic idea of strip quilting. Very cool. 

And here is my first finished quilt top. 

My next one was also a four patch, for a little girl. 

This one I actually tied and bound. 

I'm impressed with my efforts and looking forward to learning and trying more! I'm thinking a rail tie or Chinese coins quilt next. 

Uncle Steve

We've recently acquired a new family member! 

Uncle Steve. 

He asked, Squid said yes, and they eloped. We got to meet him a couple of times before they got hitched and liked him a lot. He already has a nephew and likes being an uncle. He's older than Mr. Graff, but not older than Amra! Sorry, Am. 

I wish we had pictures of his Red Bulls and energy drinks. He had about five HUGE ones a day. Didn't let Rae drink them, though.

Squid, Steve, and Rae would cuddle and nap together so I could go and take a nap. Awesome. 

It was fun watching Rae and Steve interact. Steve's shy (?) around us in-law types, but not around Rae. 

And another cuddle-puddle. 

We're excited to have Steve in the family! 

Had Squid been a boy, her name would have been Steven Michael or Michael Steven. And now her husband's name is ... Steven Michael. (If I spelled that wrong, don't hold it against me, okay?) So now there is a Steven Michael in the family anyway. 

Shoes

This little boy of mine is a character. 

When we decided to introduce him to shoes--about the time he started walking--he hated them. I have a video of him walking and wailing around the apartment until he sat down and kicked off his shoes. I'd put them on, he'd kick them off. 

So we let it go for awhile. No point dying on that mountain. 

Then we instituted "put your shoes on before you go outside". Raeford loves being outside. He's my granola child. Any kind of cranky can be solved with outside time. He uses the sign for outside and will frequently go to the door and ask to go outside. If someone goes outside without him, it usually provokes a minor meltdown. I leave him in the car when I put away groceries because he would rather be in his carseat than inside the house while I make my several trips. 

We have a 'shoe caddy' in our living room that houses shoes, scriptures, library books, and mail. If Rae is looking for something to do, he'll grab a pair of shoes and try to put them on. He loves my shoes, which tend to be slip ons. I've also been impressed to see him put on flip flops--with his big toe separated by the thong--and Mr. Graff's five finger shoes. Those are harder, though. 

All of our pictures of Rae putting on big people shoes are with Mr. Graff's shoes. 

He likes figuring out the laces, tying and untying and knotting them. 

Mostly, he likes trying to walk around in shoes.  

This teaches me an important lesson about parenting. It's all a phase. Behavior is not permanent, even if obnoxious. So watch, wait, and try again with something different, eventually it will change. 

Catching Up

In my brain, I'd thought I'd have this baby by now, so my excuses for not blogging have been waiting-for-baby ones. Now I'm six days overdue with my faker-baker and needing an outlet. SO, I will update with things and happenings. 

First, another word on pregnancy. 

Yuck. 

I'm not quite sure what the Lord is trying to teach me with this one. Patience? Humility? Faith? Probably all of those. Babe is happily swimming in his mom-made jacuzzi and I am wishing for a quick and easy pickle-splash. I'm worried about how I'll handle new motherhood again. Last time, I struggled enormously and coped through teaching seminary. This time around, I've been released from seminary and am serving on the Humanitarian committee. 

Ah, humanitarian committee... I'm not a natively crafty person. I like organization. I like rearranging furniture. I like office supplies, but putting me in a JoAnn's is asking for awkward. Yet, here we are. For Super Saturday, we participated with Project Linus chapter here in Montgomery county (http://projectlinusmcmd.org). Excellent organization, excellent people. The idea is making blankets for children who are in traumatic situations: hospitals, shelters, etc. 

So, I've had a crash course on organizing a quilting bee. I've learned a lot about piecing, binding, batting, and backing. My library basket has over half a dozen quilt books that I've been studying. There's a lot to learn, and I have the skill set of (sometimes) sewing a straight line. I'm hoping that this calling is what helps me move through new motherhood again. I'm learning and improving skills and will be teaching others the same soon. 

The next few posts will highlight some of the things I've done, some places we've been, family in town,  and of course, Raeford.