I love looking back and remembering the births of each of our children. Each one is unique and special. Writing about it here is more for my sake than anyone else’s, but in case you would like to know how Cooper entered the world, here you go!
December 7, 2015:
I had an OB appointment scheduled for Monday morning, the day after my due date. All week I had prayed that we wouldn’t make it that long without a baby, but there we were sitting in the Doctor’s office waiting to see if they would decide to induce me or send me home. Bradley had worn his birthing shirt ‘for good luck’ he said, but I had refused to bring my hospital bag, knowing that if they sent me home I would be super discouraged.
Because I was 40 weeks along and I said I’d been having contractions, they decided to do an ultrasound to see whether or not the baby’s head was down, and to estimate the size, etc. Baby was in position and I was told the head was only measuring at about 37 weeks’ size, so no concerns about having a huge baby (ha!). I was dilated 5 centimeters at that point, so the Doctor agreed to admit me to the hospital and see what happened. If, after a few hours, contractions weren’t increasing/picking up, then we would induce. Regardless, I knew I would be having that baby!
Bradley and I had a great day. Labor went pretty slowly, even after they started the pitocin, so we just sat in the room in SILENCE. I didn’t read, wasn’t on my phone, the TV never got turned on. We aren’t planning on having anymore children, so I tried to savor every moment of that day. From relationships with our nurses to the anticipation of finally holding our baby–I love all of it. No, the pain is not fun and it’s tiring, but the process of having a baby for me has always been something I’ve enjoyed.
Around 3:00 or so, we found out the Doctor was heading back and because I hadn’t progressed anymore (still at 5cm), the Doctor would most likely break my water. I knew once that happened things would get pretty intense, so I decided to get an epidural, which always terrifies me. I hate needles. I almost passed out with each of my previous epidurals.
This particular epidural wasn’t as horrible going in, and it worked FAST and really well. I couldn’t feel anything, which was great at the time, but frustrating near the end. The Doctor broke my water, and 30 minutes later I knew things were moving along. Sure enough, I was almost to 10 cm and very thankful for that epidural. The Doctor was stuck in traffic somewhere, so I stayed at 10 cm for about 2.5 hours until she arrived back at the hospital.
It had been my desire all along for my Mom and Dad to be with us during the delivery. They were there when Isabella, our first, was born, and I thought it would be special to have them there for our last baby’s birth.
God graciously granted the desire of my heart. About 15 minutes before I started pushing, my parents arrived. We were overjoyed to have them with us!
I thought this would be an easy delivery. But because my epidural was incredible, it also meant that I had absolutely no feeling or control over my pushing. I was exhausted, hungry, and got more and more frustrated that things were taking so long. Bradley wiped my forehead continually with wet washcloths my Mom handed to him. And all I could keep saying was how hungry I was.
Finally, near the end, I opened my eyes and a nurse was on top of me, pushing on my pelvis, the Doctor was saying to get the Pediatrician in the room, and everyone was in a flurry of activity.
“Am I going to lose my baby?” I knew something was wrong, and that was the first thing that came to mind. My sweet nurse looked me in the eye and said a firm “NO”, but that I needed to push hard to get the baby out. The baby’s head was out, but the shoulder was stuck, and too long in this situation was not good. What seemed like an eternity only lasted about a minute and the baby slid out.
“It’s a BOY!” Bradley had the joy of crying these words and I’ll never forget the sound in his voice.
We were both shocked. I cried. He laughed. My parents were laughing. It was one of the best moments of our lives.
We would have been thrilled with a girl, no doubt about that. But we had prayed for another boy, a little buddy for Mason, and God granted that desire.
Finnley Cooper arrived at 8:20, weighing in at a whopping 10 pounds.
So much for a small baby, Doc…
And he was perfect.
He had to spend a few hours in the NICU due to some rapid breathing, so I wasn’t really able to hold or feed him until a few hours later. He improved by the morning and joined me just in time to get a first picture with his Daddy.
I love those days in the hospital. Nothing else is demanded of me but to hold my baby, lie in bed, and enjoy the precious new life.
The older girls were thrilled to meet their new baby brother.
Jennavieve had been running a fever, so she stayed home, but Mason came to visit us and his interaction with Cooper was precious. I’ll never forget those first moments of my two boys together.
The Lord has been gracious to us and the gift of each of our children is not something I ever want to take for granted. I pray that as their Mother I will constantly point them to the Giver of all gifts and that they will delight in Him all their days.