Bonus Post: Introducing...

Theodore John Barhorst

Monday, August 26, 2019

9:44 pm

7 pounds, 13 ounces

19 inches long

Starting around 36 weeks, the nurses at prenatal appointments ask if you're having any contractions. I always thought this was a weird question because, in my experience, contractions lead immediately to a trip to the hospital to have a baby. The idea of having contractions before the date of birth was foreign to me. However. This time, for the first time in all my pregnancies, I had actual contractions before the date that the baby was born. Last Monday I spent half the day having periodic contractions. Weak ones, to be sure, but consistently about 10 minutes apart. At some point, they fizzled, though, and I continued to be pregnant. On Thursday, I felt hardly any movement and, after an hour of rest with no movement, called the office. They told me to drink two glasses of water, rest for another hour, and count kicks. I did get the required ten, but explained to the nurse that they were feeble movements at best and far fewer than I was used to feeling. I was told to come in for a non stress test where, of course, the baby perked up and performed admirably. Back home I went, still baby-less. By Sunday, I had decided that maybe it would be better to just wait another week for September to arrive. I already have an August birthstone on my bracelet, and the September sapphire is so much prettier.

I should have known that the resignation is what would work. Mid-morning on Monday I began having contractions again. They were again weak and sporadic, but even so I was cautiously optimistic. By 2:30, they had settled into a pattern and were getting stronger. After I picked up the girls from school I wandered down into the basement and told Bryan to call his mom. I also informed him that I would be getting an epidural, because it had been a long, tiring day and I didn't feel like dealing with it anymore.

By the time Murry arrived just after 4, contractions were still only ten minutes apart but were strong enough that I was ready to go to the hospital so that I didn't have to deal with the other children anymore. Bryan wrote down a couple of addresses and phone numbers for his mom and I gathered our things while Murry scurried back and forth from her van in a panic. She had apparently grabbed whatever she could in her rush out the door, and arrived at our house with an assortment of food, little of which went together. I laughed at her olives, raspberry jam, and goldfish crackers, while she commented on how calm Bryan and I seemed in comparison. We kissed the kids goodbye and headed out the door. I had to send Bryan back to fetch the carseat that he'd forgotten.

Since it was now nearly 5:00, Bryan decided to stop at Taco Bell to grab some dinner. How the panic decreases between kids one and five! Once we were all checked in, I took a picture of him eating so that he could say later that he made his laboring wife document the fact that he stopped for Taco Bell on the way to the hospital and then sat around and ate it.

We thought that we should go to the outpatient entrance, since this was a daytime arrival, but since we arrived after 5 they sent us around to the emergency room. The secretary checked us in. At one point after we had been chatting about a previous hospital visit she asked, "Are you a veteran?" In my mind, this question seemed like a weird way of asking how many kids we had, so I answered, "Yes, this is my fi-- Oh, wait, no. No, I'm not." Bryan was amused. She called for a wheelchair that I was not allowed to decline. Bummer. I don't care for wheelchairs.

We got upstairs and baby preparations ensued. Bryan guessed that I would be seven centimeters dilated. The nurse checked and was very impressed with his accuracy. He was proud of himself. Vitals were checked, IVs were placed, monitors were attached. Did I want an epidural? I thought maybe I did, and contemplated aloud how I'd been considering getting one. Bryan popped his head in from the hallway (he'd been exiled while they inserted the IV since he doesn't do well with needles -- we learned this when he nearly passed out during the IV insertion when Olivia was born) and told me I'd be happier without an epidural. I hemmed and hawed a bit, and then declined.

Usually I'm up and about during labor, preferring to walk around and be active. This time, though, I just sat. The head of the bed was lifted all the way up so that it was more like a recliner. In hindsight, perhaps I should have just gotten up to move things along a little. At the time, though, it was nice to be able to relax for the five minutes between contractions. The midwife was very present for long stretches of time, hanging out in the room with us for 45 minutes before leaving because "a watched pot never boils." It must have been a slow night. Finally around 9:00 contractions were strong enough that I was done with conversation. They put a bar across the foot of the bed for me to hang on to. The midwife offered to break my water, and around 9:30 I let her. It didn't help, because the baby was so low that no water could escape. Whenever they offer to break my water, I just think of how Gretchen was born with the water when it broke. None of the other kids have lived up to that moment. Sorry, kids, Gretchen was the ideal birthing experience.

I was kind of having pushing contractions, but didn't want to deal with actually giving birth to a baby. It was an apathetic kind of night all over. The midwife told me I should try pushing, so I did, and the baby's head was born so fast that the nurse was surprised. I guess she's supposed to start a timer when the baby crowns, but by the time she checked, the head was already out. We heard a cry, and I relaxed. The rest is easy.

Except it wasn't. The body didn't follow the head immediately like it usually does. Suddenly I was flipped onto my back (I have no memory of the flipping, just of being on my knees one moment and my back the next) and the nurse and Bryan held my knees to my chest while the midwife presumably pulled on the baby. She kept saying, "You have to keep pushing, you have to get your baby out." I kept responding with, "I can't," which, to me meant "I don't know how," but to her meant "I don't want to." I'm sure it was a fabulous conversation to witness. I was not panicking, because I'd heard the baby cry, so clearly it was okay (false), but I was very confused as to what was happening and I definitely did not know how to push any more. Finally, almost two minutes after his head was born (I know because the nurse had that timer), the rest of the baby followed. A baby boy was placed, squirming and slimy, on my chest.

We didn't have a name ready. Or, rather, we had too many. After some deliberation, we settled on Theodore John. The other front runner was Joshua, and I decided he didn't look like a Joshua. Bryan said he wasn't sure he looked like a Theodore, either, but he DID look like a Theo. The nurse said she couldn't think of any other names with Theo as a nickname, so Theodore he is. Later, when we looked up saints' names, we realized he could have been Theodosius or Theophilus. Oh well, missed opportunities. :-P I like Theodore. :)

Bryan said that the shoulders are supposed to come out one at a time as the baby twists. Theodore did not twist. In the words of the midwife, he was born "like a linebacker." Both shoulders barreled through at once, perpendicular to the optimal axis, and he got stuck. The file reads shoulder dystocia, which is when the baby gets stuck on the mother's pubic bone, but that is not strictly accurate. Getting stuck is considered a medical emergency because the umbilical cord is probably pinched and the baby's lungs, which should be working since the head has been born, cannot expand because they're caught in the birth canal. The whole point of the timer they start is to make sure that they get stuck babies out before permanent damage can occur due to lack of oxygen. Luckily, Theodore did get unstuck in what is considered a reasonable amount of time and they did not have to resort to more drastic measures. He did well on his tests and is happy and healthy. I am glad that I did not realize in the moment that anything was dangerously amiss.

Despite both the midwife and the nurse commenting on his size, Theodore weighed in at a mere 7 pounds, 13 ounces -- the second smallest baby we've had. He's also a shorty, only 19 inches long. He does have quite a bit of hair, rivaling Olivia. So many comparisons can be made when you're the fifth one. :) The kids came to meet him on Tuesday and are in love already.

Pictures:

August 18-25

Pictures from the last post and this past week.

July 21-August 18

Did you comment on the Baby Guesses post? If not, you're running out of time. There is a benefit to procrastinating, though: I had an ultrasound last week and have added a 3D picture of Lionel's face to the post in case it gives you any clues. :)

Matthias had his two year check-up. He's 30 pounds 5 ounces and 34.75 inches tall. According to the doubling method, this would put his adult height at 69.5 inches, which is 5'9.5" No basketball star here. He handled his one shot calmly, with only minor tears. He did not accept the removal of his clothes with such grace, however, and cried his way through the whole appointment until we gave his shirt and shorts back.

Matthias is a pro at riding his (pink) tricycle. He can go forwards and backwards, steers well enough to not run into things, and has recently been experimenting with no hands.

Olivia had a birthday! We have an eight year old in the house, which is entirely too old. I don't know what magic switch flips when they turn eight, but I now have to listen to near constant interjections and affected giggles.

Camp happened. We drove to Chicago on a Saturday afternoon to visit with Jacque, Will, and Julian. We ended up sleeping at the house of a church family and then met up with everyone again the next morning. After church, we decided to drive straight up towards Madison rather than waiting around. We made a stop to see my high school friend, Kathleen, on the way and visited a splash pad and an ice cream shop. Once we arrived at our hotel, we stopped moving, crashed in front of cartoons, and ordered pizza. The rest of the week involved more visiting and a lot of playing outside. The girls got to try baseball and kickball; Matthias spent most of his time "driving" the row of go carts along the side of the building. The setup with the pavilion, playground, and go carts was perfect for letting the kids roam around while we chatted or played games. We went back to the hotel each night to sleep and regret nothing. :)

Our drive home from camp was done in one shot on Thursday. As we had never bothered to look up exactly how far it was, we were pleasantly surprised to discover that we had overestimated the length. We arrived in time for a mildly late dinner. Our house was significantly messier than we had left it because Murry was in the middle of painting two different rooms and had things spread everywhere. Apparently Bryan gave her the wrong return date. She stayed up late painting, slept on the couch, and resumed painting the next day. The girls' room is done (except for the wooden castle she plans to affix to the wall). Matthias and Lionel's room is, as of this writing, only close to done. There are half plans to do the playroom still, mostly to cover the spackling that is necessary.

All four kids had eye doctor's appointments at the beginning of August. Kaitlyn and Matthias are fine for their age. Gretchen has astigmatism. Olivia has a slight eye turn and a pretty severe lazy eye. The older two both got to pick out glasses and are eagerly waiting for their new frames to arrive. Kaitlyn was distraught that her eyes didn't also need correction.

We were home for all of five days before heading to Sidney for our next vacation. Steve and Murry took the family to Great Wolf Lodge (an indoor water park) for a few days. There were slides and sprinklers and pools for big kids and toddlers... Also a Build-a-Bear on site and an in-hotel scavenger hunt that involved pointing a magic wand at all sorts of fun looking interactive statues. The kids had a blast. Poor Gretchen would have had more fun if she wasn't under the weather the whole time. She caught something (from Bryan, we think) on the way home from camp and, while she recovered enough to go on vacation, has been taking afternoon naps since then.

Last week we came home and said we were finally home for good due to school and Lionel, but we neglected to remember that we're back in Sidney this weekend one more time. After that, though, I think we're done for a bit.

VBS was this past week at St Stephen's. This is the third VBS the girls have attended this summer. They love it so much that we try to catch a couple of local ones. This year was the first official one we've had at our church, and I was in charge. I have a curriculum from the Greek archdiocese, and I think it went rather well. The kids seemed to enjoy it, even though it wasn't as flashy as some of the ones they've been to.

Pictures next week. Go comment on Lionel's Baby Guesses!