Guin's Birth Story

Guin, 

I have to start by apologizing that I've waited until your fifth birthday to actually write your birth story.  I regret not doing it right away, there are details I've forgotten in such a short time.  I was so uneducated going into your birth, and looking back now there are so many things I would do differently for your well being.  But the important thing is that giving birth to you was one of the most profound moments I will ever experience.  It changed me to my core.  The times in your birth story are vague, and to be honest I have to look in your baby book to remember exactly what you weighed or how long you were - but I will always be able to give you every detail of how I felt that day.  You changed the course and purpose of my life, and for that I will never be able to thank you enough.

Daddy and I knew we wanted a family a long time before you came.  We tried for nine months to get pregnant, and when I had finally given up on it ever happening we found out about you.  In the first ultrasound picture you looked like nothing more than a booger (a name that stuck... we called you booger until long after you were born.)  I worked at a bank when I was pregnant with you, and I was really stressed and unhealthy.  I stopped doing yoga and ate Chick-fil-a as often as I could.  So it wasn't a huge surprise when my doctor put me on bed rest at 32 weeks gestation because of high blood pressure and preeclampsia.  That last month and a half of my pregnancy was a really hard adjustment for me, but it was such a blessing.  I was such a go go go constantly moving stressed kind of person, and being forced to completely stop and lay on the couch with you for six weeks gave me so much perspective.  It gave me time to think about the changes that were coming and how I hadn't yet made you my priority.  It was then that I decided I wasn't going back to work after you were born.  Being your mama was my new job.  

Because of my high blood pressure, my doctor wanted to try to encourage you to come before Christmas even though you weren't technically "due" until the first week in January.  She scraped my membranes twice - (which means manually separating the amniotic sack that you were floating in from the inside of the uterus where you were growing...it was horribly uncomfortable at best).   The winter you were born there was more snow than I had ever seen in one season in Colorado - we were scared you were going to decide to come while we were snowed in.  

Christmas came and went... then the day after... late on the crisp but snow-free night of December 26th Daddy and I were laying in bed watching movies.  We watched Anastasia, trying to fall asleep... but I was wide awake.  When that was over we watched An American Tale.  Still wide awake.  Then it happened - about 1:30 am on December 27th, I felt my body begin the work of birthing.  Our contractions started about 5 minutes apart and became regular very quickly.  Like most first time parents, we got crazy excited and called the doctor.  She told us to come in right then (I know now we should have stayed home to rest...) so we rushed to Avista Adventist Hospital in Louisville in the wee hours of the morning.  We got to the hospital at about 2:30am and we waited in triage for what felt like years.  Grandma and Grandpa came to see me.  Uncle Kyle took an incredibly unflattering picture of me.  And by 4am the nurses decided I was 5cm dilated and officially in labor.

We checked into our room and immediately started walking the halls of the hospital.  I had made it my entire pregnancy without taking off my wedding ring or the promise ring Daddy gave me in high school, but I had no idea how bad my hands would start to swell when I was in labor - we spend about an hour walking the halls with my hand in a bag of ice, trying to get my rings off of my hands.  It was honestly a nice distraction from the contractions.  Daddy and I laughed and joked and really enjoyed ourselves in between the waves.  We walked the halls until we could start to see the sun peeking through the windows, and the nurses told me the doctor wanted to speed up my labor by breaking my water and she would be in at 9 am to do it.  (I have no idea why they needed to speed up my labor - things were going really well, and I was progressing.  I know now that there was no reason for it, you and I knew just what we were doing.)  Luckilly that never had to happen, because around 8am my water broke on its own, so we walked back to the room to get cleaned up.  

That was when it felt like chaos erupted.  The nurses had changed shifts at 7, and I hadn't met my new nurse yet.  She was a kind lady, but it turned out she knew my grandparents from church, and as soon as I got back to the room and my contractions started reaching the most intense point, she was going on and on about how great church and god bless this and that and who knows... if I had been as strong then as I am now, I would have kicked her out of the room right there.  She told me I needed to get on the bed so she could monitor us, and that's when I lost control.  The contraction I had while I was flat on my back in bed took my breath away.  I wanted to move but I couldn't.  You were telling me to move, my body was telling me to get up and get out of bed, but I couldn't.  I did what the nurse told me to do.  I remember looking up at your Daddy and seeing the helpless look on his face.  He asked me what I needed, but I couldn't respond.  My doctor had arrived and told me that the anesthesiologist on call would be leaving soon, so if I wanted an epidural now was my chance.  Even though my intuition screamed at me not to do it, that seemed like the only option I had, so I agreed.

The best way I can describe getting the epidural is that it was strange.  To have sensation in your spine is the weirdest thing I've ever experienced.  It was like a cold trickle down the base of my spine.  It didn't take long before the sensations of the contractions turned off completely.  I laid restlessly in the bed, watching my belly harden with each contraction, watching the line on the monitor go up, but no longer experiencing the labor.  I felt bad that I was able to turn off the sensation, but that I knew you were still working just as hard.  They had me hooked up to every machine in the hospital.  They even put a monitor in your scalp to monitor your heart rate more accurately.  I was attached to so many wires that I was afraid to move.  In the time it took to get me settled, Daddy turned on some Beatles music and fell asleep for a short time.  The nurse checked me as soon as we got everything set up, and whaddaya know?  I was 10cm.  They didn't check me before the epidural, and the intense contractions I was having was because we were in transition.  

I remember the nurse having an "oops" look on her face when she told me I was fully dilated.  Because the epidural was turned up so high, I couldn't feel when to push.  So we waited for about an hour, letting my body figure out what it was doing without sensation and bring you down without pushing.  Finally, when I could start feeling the contractions a tiny bit, I felt the urge to push.  It was about 11am.  I stayed on my back, with my feet in the air.  Daddy held my right foot, crazy jesus nurse held my left.  She chanted numbers at me like a cheerleader, while Daddy just gave me whatever words of encouragement he could come up with.  The temperature in the room sky rocketed and so did my fever - they couldn't get the room to cool off for some reason, so while I was pushing they opened the windows of the room.  Right outside was a construction crew, working on a new building.  I'm glad I didn't care about modesty much at that point.

My doctor arrived in time to set up her tools.  As Daddy told me he could see the top of your head coming through, the doctor told me she was going to do a "mild" episiotomy (which means she cut the skin at the bottom of my yoni to make it easier for you to come through.  Again, knowing what I know now, it was unnecessary and made my recovery a lot longer.)  I remember just waiting... not feeling like I was doing much... I remember hearing the end of "She's so heavy" on the Beatles Abbey Road album. I looked at the clock.  It was about noon. I closed my eyes, I was tuning out the counting of the nurse and anything the doctor was telling me...  I was talking to you, telling you I love you.. and then as soon as the gentile guitar started playing "Here Comes the Sun" I opened my eyes.  I looked down just in time to see the doctor put you up on my belly, and to hear your Daddy tell me "it's a girl!"  

Every year when I tell you your birth story, this is the part I take the most time to share.  That moment, time literally stopped.  You cried enough to clear your lungs, but after that you just quietly looked at me.  I felt like there was nobody else in the room.  I looked right into your eyes... The look of those beautiful little eyes is still the most vivid memory I have from my entire life.  Those eyes were wise, even in your first few moments of life.  Those eyes are what told my heart that I was a mother.  They are the same little eyes that still look up at me today.  I fell so much in love in that moment.  I was in awe of what we had accomplished together that day.  You latched on beautifully and started to nurse soon after you were born.  I didn't even notice the doctor stitching me up or anything else that happened.  I had you in my arms and you were beautiful.  

Your grandparents were waiting for you in the waiting room at the hospital.  When I was all cleaned up, Grandma and Grandpa and Oma and Opa came in to meet you.  You were born on your Opa's 45th birthday, and I will always remember how proud he looked when he saw you.  You were such a bright little light in the eyes of everyone.  

We stayed in the hospital overnight and we were discharged early so we could be home before the next snow storm rolled in.  The first few days having you at home were beautiful.  We spent a lot of time in bed snuggled with you and just soaking in our family.  I felt horrible when people would come to see you in that first week, because I knew they wanted to meet you but I felt like a bear protecting her cub.  It drove me to tears just to let other people hold you.  I had never felt so connected to another human being in my life.  

You now know more about birth than most kids your age, and I want you to know that the experience of bringing you into the world is the inspiration for the work I do now.  You have touched so many lives just by existing.  Thank you for making me a mom.  I love you.

Mom

Memories of my Sister

Guin and Willow,

Today would have been your aunt Mindy's 23rd birthday.  There are so many times that I've wished you could have met her.  One of these days I promise to write her story about why she isn't here, but today I want to celebrate her and tell you all about the amazing person she was.

Mindy was my little sister.  I was five years old when she was born.  My first impression of her was that she looked like E.T.  She was born premature and soon after her birth it was discovered that she had a serious heart problem.  She spent a long time at Children's Hospital and I remember "helping" my parents listen to her heart regularly and giving her medicine.  By the time she was a toddler, her heart problem was gone.  She was miraculous even as a baby.

Mindy was spirited.  She had a contagious laugh.  We played and imagined together.  She was silly.  She ate peanut butter on a spoon every day for breakfast.  We would stay up past bedtime talking about who knows what and dancing to the Little Mermaid music.  We would fight like dogs.  She was talented.  She sang in the talent show in kindergarten and in middle school the girl could beat box better than most of the adults I'd ever heard. She loved creating.  She picked things up so quickly - she learned to crochet and the first thing she made was the giant blue afghan that we snuggle up with on the couch.

Mindy was always happy to see me.  Always.  She gave the most genuine hugs.  She would sit on the floor outside of my bathroom while I got ready for school and watch me curl my hair and we would talk.  She would steal my clothes.  She was my biggest fan.  I went to homecoming with a black eye because I tried to take clothes back from her and she put me in my place.  She was strong.  

Mindy never let anyone tell her what she could and couldn't do.  She was fierce.  She loved and was loved.  And even when things got hard, she and I had a connection that only sisters could have.  I was the last person in our family to talk to her before she died.  I am a better person because I knew her.

Willow - I see so much of Mindy in you.  It terrifies me knowing you have that same fierce passion, and I will do my best as you grow not to project that on you.  But I think Mindy has given me perspective that nobody else could have.  She taught me how to understand you, and she gave me lessons that will make me a better mom for the incredible person you are becoming.

Guin - I hope hearing the memories of my little sister will help you to appreciate your sister even more.  You have a best friend in her.  I have always told you that being a big sister is a VERY important job.  It's not a job I ever took lightly, and you are such a natural.  I'm pretty sure if Mindy had ever known you, she would have seen me in you.  And she would have been proud.

The connection I had with my sister has helped make me the person I am now.  I celebrate her memory, and even though neither of you ever knew her, and though you may not know it, she has touched your lives.

This is my favorite photo of the two of us.  It reminds me of the two of you.

And this is how I remember her.  Silly, brilliant, beautiful.

If there is one thing in the world I can teach you both, it's how important connection is.  The people in your life will help shape who you are.  I hope this gives you some insight as to why I am who I am - because I had a little sister, and even though her fifteen years were short, I love her.

Love,
Mom