Life as we know it now

Well, as Gene Autry would say, I'm back in the saddle again. Except I'm not toting my Old .44 and I'm not sleeping outdoors.

As you read in last week's beautifully written post, Elia Clara came to join us in the flesh on May 13th. And all of that day is already a blur to me. I cannot adequately describe both the pain and joy that afternoon brought, after so much uncertainty and fear that had built up to that point because of our last experience with Lars.

The birth was honestly a breeze. One big, long push of relief. The labor, on the other hand, was written 2000 years ago in a book called The Holy Bible. Written by several authors, you can find this book in just about any hotel room or church. I highly recommend it. It should be on Oprah's book list. They didn't have epidurals then, either, and a few survived. Labor pains have a different meaning with no heavy drugs and I felt very in tune with my faith after such an experience. I finally understood, fully, what they meant.

The thing I remember most about that afternoon was not the pain, but the dedication of the one beside me. (I'm about to get mushy, if you want to skip this part). Al has been through this now three times, and each time he seems to be more focused, ask more questions to the nurse, watch the monitor a bit closer, inform the doctor of changes, and breathe in my face when I get out of sync. With a full stomach this time, he was a rock of support and on this particular day, was on his feet for the better part of 15 hours.

Once Baby Girl Strawn came to light, he looked over both of us and went back and forth, cooing and praising intermittently. Since I had my eyes closed when they first whisked her away, I didn't see her grayish color, but I did notice the absence of a cry. I know it was at least a minute, since we're taught to flick the feet and rub the baby's back that long if they're not crying. I remember thinking, "not again". And even though my husband was telling me to give the nurses a chance to work, I was contemplating a big wailing session. I heard an APGAR of 6. They gave her (and I quote) "a few puffs" with the BVM and just as I was about to panic, I heard a squeak. Then another squeak, followed by an itty bitty gasp, then a possible breath, and finally a good long-lunged cry. It was then that I smiled, relaxed, and sat back to bathe in glory and thanksgiving. I heard from a nurse that the baby was a little girl and I was overcome with relief. Eden would be happy. I might even get some sleep out of the whole deal.

Through the suturing, I waited patiently for 45 minutes before I got the first glimpse of our little gift and she was immediately beautiful. She had been a part of us for 39 weeks and now I got to look at her features up close. Her paddle feet and long fingers, round head and slender shoulders. Her little pink lips and Eden's nose and cheeks. Another dream come true.

Now in our 10th day home, I have a few moments to myself to reflect on how blessed I really am. Funny, I'm at a loss for words.

Mom and Dad left yesterday morning after being here nearly two full weeks. What a joy it was to have them for that long. The kids had Poppa and Grandma all to themselves for the three days I was in hospital. Dad cooked meals, Mom cleaned the house, folded clothes, kept the kitchen in working order. They both read enough stories to last them at least 6 months, changed diapers and played 'house' and 'store' and 'restaurant' until they couldn't eat or shop for another piece of plastic food. It was hard to see them go, but I know there are a few grandchildren back in Michigan who miss them dearly and our turn is up for now.

Some of the highlights of their stay include several drives out into the country, one of which we got off on the wrong private dirt track after a storm, ended up on the Railroad's property and, had we gotten stuck, probably would have been arrested for trespassing. The RR truck was about 100 yards ahead of us, watching us with the radio up at his mouth the whole time. We were a huge pile of tumbleweed and one very large mud puddle away from them, and about 1/2 mile driveway from the freedom of the highway. We had two choices: back up for a mile on a one lane dirt path, or try to cross the rubbish filled berm into somebody's back yard, drive carefully across it and make it to their driveway, then on to the highway. After knocking on the doors and calling "anybody home!?" for a while, we chanced our luck and made a fast get-away.

We also took a trip up to the Douthit's ranch north of Crawford. It took the better part of an hour to drive their road because of the rain and I think next time I will stay in town. Mom, "it sure is steep down that ravine" did nothing to calm my nerves on the mud slick road. I was pretty sure I would have bailed out if Al'd stopped even once. Thank God for 4-wheel drive. Now only if we had the sensibility to not put ourselves in the situation to have to use it.

On Friday, Allen's parents arrived in town and we had a full house for the weekend and the baptism, which took place on Sunday during the service. I didn't even get teary-eyed this time.
A beautiful day, we had a couple friends over and set up chairs under the shade sail on the back deck. The baby slept. Lars took a nap and the rest of us had a enjoyable meal and fellowship.

Today, I began writing this post at 10:00 this morning. It is now 4:00 p.m., I've fed and changed the newest baby, fed and changed the 2nd baby, fed and played with the 1st baby, cleaned up after lunch, fed & cahnged baby #3 again, declined the Schwan's man, answered the phone a half dozen times, solving problems all over town and scheduling life as we know it.

I better quit now while I have a chance. The oldest two are ready for a snack and I just heard Elia cry for another meal. When does Daddy come home from work??