Moriah's Story, Part Five

Part One ... Part Two ... Part Three ... Part Four ...

Now that Moriah is officially one month and eleven days old, it's time to do something really special to celebrate:  finish her birth story.  ;-)  I never intended for it to take me this long to wrap it up, but sometimes that's the way it goes...

There are about a million pictures in this post--give or take a few--so be warned.  It's gonna be a long one.  :)

After my darling daughter was born, my heart and mind and soul and spirit responded with great joy!  My body, however, did not.  The health concern during my labor had been my blood pressure which had been unexpectedly high; but after the birth, the concern became my bleeding.  Apparently, I was bleeding too much, and my uterus was not contracting like it should.  The part I don't like about that blissful period of time after giving birth is that every so often, a nurse or midwife comes over, punches you in the stomach (well, it feels like it, at least), and starts "massaging" the uterus to help it contract.  It's no fun, even if it is necessary.  But this time, the normal routine for that was not sufficient; and when Barbara, the midwife, saw how much blood I was losing, she showed me how to rub my uterus to make it contract and encouraged me to do that often.  To be honest, I was lousy at it.  I would gently and tenderly start rubbing my stomach, which was about as effective in inducing uterine contractions as reciting the Korean alphabet backwards would have been!  If I had been as forceful as the medical personnel in those tummy rubs, I would have had better results. 

However, even with frequent, strong massages from Barbara and the nurse (the one who took over for Arlene; I don't remember her name), I still wasn't doing so well.  I felt cold and shaky and was grateful for someone who brought me one of those wonderful pre-warmed blankets, and I vaguely knew that my bleeding situation wasn't good, but I wasn't as aware as Jeff who heard someone mutter something about "moderately serious."  It seems he was a little concerned about me, but he didn't let on at the time.

I guess it wasn't too long before Barbara was letting me know that to get my uterus to contract properly, I needed to have some Pitocin.  It struck me as a little odd that after I gave birth, I would need to have Pitocin, whereas almost all the women I hear about who have Pitocin in labor have it before.  Of course, I agreed to whatever Barbara thought best; and soon a bag of Pitocin was hanging on my IV pole and dripping into my veins.  It turned out to be an especially good thing that I had gotten the IV when I did because I wouldn't have wanted someone to try to stick me at that point in time!  The Pitocin did its job; but before it was all over, I ended up needing a second bag; they let that drip into me at a much slower rate than the first bag had done however.  It wasn't until much later that evening that they decided I had had enough--in fact, I didn't quite finish that second bag--and they unhooked me from the IV.  I'm jumping ahead of myself in the story; but by that point, I was more than eager to take a shower.  After giving birth, a shower goes a long way to making me feel human again.  :)  I'm used to being able to hop up fairly quickly and take a shower, so this delay seemed bothersome to me.  But in due time, the IV was unhooked (although they left the needle in, just in case I would need another IV at some point--nobody wanted to try to stick me again!), my arm was wrapped in a plastic bag, and I was able to take a shower.  It was delightful.  :)

But back to the moments after Moriah's birth...  :)  

Fairly soon after she was born, I got in the bed from the standing position I had been in during her birth; and soon after that, she was laid on my chest so I could drink in the sight of her.  The glorious sight, I might add. :)

I appreciated the fact that the medical personnel did some of their preliminary checks on Moriah while she was still in my arms.

But eventually, they had to take Moriah so they could do the rest of their checks, so while I laid in the bed with Barbara, the midwife, sitting on the edge of it beside me, and while we waited for the placenta to emerge and for my bleeding to slow down, Jeff, with camera in hand, was being my eyes to record all that was happening with Moriah that I couldn't see from my vantage point.  I really appreciated him doing this, especially because I was not feeling well at all.  Besides the bleeding (which bothered me mentally more than physically) and the painful uterine contractions (which were actually helping the situation but sure didn't feel like it!), I was dealing with the feeling of being so cold and shaky.  It wasn't my best moment.

Moriah was weighed, of course; and--this is funny to me now--when they announced her weight of 8 pounds, 0.7 ounces, I couldn't seem to grasp quite what they meant.  The 0.7 ounces really threw me for a loop.  I think I had to ask them several times before I could understand it.  Fuzzy new-mommy brain.  ;-)  Her length was 19 inches.  At least I could understand that.  :)

I don't remember hearing this at the time, but her head circumference and her chest circumference were both 14 inches.  I didn't know that until I read her discharge report later.  :)

Another thing I didn't know until I read it in the discharge report is that her Apgar scores were 9 (at 1 minute) and 9 (at 5 minutes).  Only a few minutes old, and already she was getting good grades.  ;-)

This next photo makes me smile, as I see Arlene holding the phone up to the ear of the baby nurse.  I also like this picture because it shows the three nurses who were helping right after delivery.  By the way, I guess Arlene didn't really scoot out the door at 11:00, even though that's when her shift ended.  :)

Moriah's sweet footprints...

Moriah's sweet face...

Barbara - such a great midwife.  She's not planning to deliver babies much longer, so I'm extra grateful that she "happened" to be on call when I had Moriah.

From the bed, I was watching the nurse getting Moriah ready.

After all the procedures were done and Moriah was swaddled snugly, the nurse looked around the room from me to Jeff and my mom and called out, "Who wants her?"  I might have hesitated half a second, trying to be polite, before I emphatically declared, "I do!!"  I knew neither Jeff nor my mom had gotten to hold Moriah yet, but I was feeling selfish enough to make them wait.  ;-)  The nurse handed Moriah to me.  :)

As overjoyed as I was to be holding my daughter in my arms, this was actually kind of a tense time.  Moriah was a little fussy...I tried to nurse her...she didn't latch on well...she continued to be unhappy...I knew my bleeding was still an issue...I also knew that if Moriah nursed, that would help the uterus to contract like it should...but Moriah didn't want to nurse...and nothing I could do would make it work.  Thank goodness that the first attempt at nursing doesn't define the rest of the nursing relationship!  With so much time having passed from the time of her birth until I write this, I can confidently say that that short interval of time was just a little bump in the road, but not an indicator of problems to come.  Of course, I didn't know that then; and I felt a little anxious about how everything was going.

While I was nursing Moriah (or trying to), Ann Swartz, the nurse who is our personal friend, came back in and congratulated us on her birth.  Also, at some point during this time, Arlene went over to Jeff, hugged him and congratulated him, and complimented him on what a great husband and labor support he was.  It's true - he really was incredible.  He always has been, every time I've given birth.

Eventually I handed Moriah over to Jeff so he could get his first chance to hold her.  He looks serious in these pictures - and maybe a little tired, too? ;-) - but I know that his joy and pride and love were enormous.

Then my mom got a turn to hold her tiny granddaughter - a little bundle of joy that my mother had been waiting for during many years.

Again, I don't think my mother's face accurately depicts what she was feeling.  :)

There was a lot of joy in that room.  :)

My blood pressure continued to be monitored quite frequently, and I suppose it must have gone down appropriately because I don't remember hearing any more about it.  The Pitocin was helping with the bleeding, and those stomach "massages" - AKA, punches ;-) - were indeed making my uterus contract.  I spent more time than usual in the delivery room, but was eventually able to be moved to a postpartum room.  I remember vividly that with Tobin's birth, I was able to get up and walk to the postpartum room and stop to watch him in the nursery as they cared for him there and feel really terrific right after birth; but this time, I had to be transported by wheelchair to the new room.

Even before I went to the postpartum room, however, Jeff returned home to take over the care of our boys from my dad who had been the on-duty babysitter this whole time.  At first, Jeff thought he'd take my mom home at that point, too; but I eventually spoke up and asked if she could stay with me.  Especially because I wasn't feeling quite myself yet, I was so grateful to have her companionship and assistance; and I didn't feel ready to be on my own yet.  She gladly agreed to stay with me; and before he left, Jeff went down to the cafeteria and brought back some food for her because it was lunch time.  He got some pasta salad and a sandwich; she ate the pasta salad, and I ate the sandwich later that afternoon.  I know I ate lunch at some point after the delivery; but unlike with Shav's birth when I still remember what I ate (french toast) and how good it was (delicious!!!), I don't remember anything about that first meal after Moriah was born.  I do, however, remember that I was hungry enough that afternoon to ask my mom if I could eat her sandwich.  I don't think she minded.  :)

After a time, Jeff returned with the boys; and as my beautiful, precious, amazing, treasured sons came into the room, I could not keep the tears from falling.  I was so very happy to see them and so filled with love for my family - my whole family, all seven of us - together, for the first time.

The boys were, of course, very excited to meet their little sister; and Josiah even brought his camera so he could capture the event in pictures.  I think he got a lot of pictures of me crying, but they were happy tears.  :)

David was the first brother to hold Moriah; and to this day, he still is the one to most often ask me if he can hold her.

I think each of the boys probably got a turn to hold her, but I don't have a picture of each of them doing that.

It wasn't too long before the boys' attention shifted to the gifts they knew they would be given.  Having a gift for each of the big brothers is a tradition that started when David was born and has continued through all the births.

We gave Josiah and David each an Einstein brain game, similar to Twenty Questions.

Tobin's gift was a big book about various Bible stories - sort of in the style of Where's Waldo with lots of detail in the illustrations.

I don't have a picture of Shav with his gift, but it was a construction vehicle.  He sure loves cars and trucks.  :)

From previous experience, we know that it's best if the boys' visit to me in the hospital is rather short.  They are so excited that emotions are heightened, energy levels are increased, and sometimes good behavior is decreased!  So short and sweet works for us, when it comes to that visit.  Before too long, Jeff gathered the boys and their gifts and headed home again after hugs and kisses and fond goodbyes.

A little later, my dad came to get my mom and to meet his new granddaughter, of course.

Does he look a little proud?  :)

Sometime later, my friend Amanda who works at the hospital came to visit; and I was delighted to see her.  I completely forgot to take a picture of her, but the gift she brought--a beautiful pot of pink hydrangeas--can be seen in the picture below.  She is pregnant, too; and I am very excited to meet her new baby!  :)

I had another visitor that evening--actually, two.  Eliza, who also works at the hospital, and her husband Chris came by; and I was so glad to see them.  They're a really special couple to us, and we don't get together often enough.  I thoroughly enjoyed their visit!

After their visit, I was alone again and actually started feeling lonely and a little emotional.  I called Jeff, probably shed a few tears on the phone with him ;-), and wished that he could come back to the hospital to be with me.  But that's the thing about having a fifth child: somebody has to take care of the other four!  :)  At one point, he offered to bring all the boys and return to the hospital to spend a little more time with me; but I knew it was getting close to bedtime, and there had been so much excitement that day that the boys really needed their rest.  So I turned down his offer, although I really appreciated it and selfishly wanted him to come.  :)

Another reason I was feeling a little lonely is because part of the time, Moriah wasn't with me.  She needed to be taken to the nursery for the doctor to do his rounds and check her, and I understood that; but I missed her when she was gone and was always happy when a nurse entered the room, pushing Moriah in her bassinet.  It was a joyful, sweet reunion each time we were separated in the hospital and then reunited.  :)

One thing that genuinely helped me during that evening was going online and connecting with so many kind friends through Facebook and the blog.  Suddenly I realized I wasn't alone anymore; and the happy, encouraging words that people sent my way boosted my spirits incredibly.  One of the very good uses of the internet.  :)

During this time, I also had fun taking pictures of my little sweetheart...

...and just getting to know her - through the camera lens and through my own eyes.  After nine months of imagining what she would be like, it was breathtaking to finally see her face to face and continue the journey of discovery and bonding.

I also admired the view from my room.

It was a gorgeous day outside with blue skies and puffy white clouds - fairly warm for early April.

I loved all the light streaming into my room; it makes a place feel so cheerful when there's lots of natural light.

I could even see Massanutten Peak from my room.

Most of all, I could see her face; and that was the most special sight of all.

I don't remember much about what I had for supper that night, but I do remember that the lady who took my food orders and delivered my meal trays the whole time I was in the hospital was SO NICE.  She went above and beyond the call of duty in the area of politeness, and I truly appreciated her service to me.  She gets an A+.  :)

After my IV was removed and I was finally able to shower and feel wonderfully clean again, I settled in for the night.  At one point, I turned on the TV, thinking that I might find something to watch to help pass the time.  I only watched for a few minutes before I turned it off again.  I couldn't find anything to watch that seemed worthwhile; after the wonder of giving birth, everything else seemed kind of flat and unimportant!  :)

Because I got almost no sleep the night before, I was tired, to be sure.  When the nurse asked my preference for whether Moriah would stay in the room with me or be in the nursery for part of the night, I told her that I didn't mind letting Moriah be in the nursery sometimes (and brought to me as soon as she needed to be fed).  One thing I've learned through my birth experiences is to be grateful for what hospitals do well and not fret about what they don't do well.  For example, hospitals are notorious for numerous middle-of-the-night interruptions.  Just when a person might want to actually be sleeping, a nurse comes in to check a person's temperature and blood pressure.  This happens at various intervals throughout the night, which doesn't exactly make for a restful night's sleep!  I had to laugh a little because on this particular night, there was a blood pressure cuff that had been attached to my arm for a number of hours that day; and the machine was set to automatically check my blood pressure at certain intervals (every 15 minutes was what it started at).  That evening, the nurse had taken the cuff off my arm; but it was still attached to the machine.  And the machine was apparently still set to check blood pressure at regular intervals because every so often, all night long, I would hear it start to run: pumping up the cuff, then gradually releasing the pressure.  Fortunately, the intervals were longer than 15 minutes apart, so I didn't have to hear it that often; but it still woke me up sometimes with its noise.  Rather than getting frustrated about it, I just thought, "That's life in a hospital.  You just never know what's going to interrupt your sleep, but there's always something!"  :)  Looking back, I know I could have mentioned it to a nurse; and she would have fixed it.  But each time a nurse came in my room, I forgot!  And it never seemed important enough for me to press my call button and have a nurse come into my room just for that.

Anyway, that's one of those hospital things that isn't worth fretting over; but at the same time, there are some really great things about a hospital that are worth taking advantage of and appreciating.  One of those is, in my opinion, the nursery.  When Josiah was born, I was so afraid that someone would take my baby or he would get switched that I did not let him get out of my sight or Jeff's sight.  I was just a wee bit paranoid.  ;-)  After David was born, however, the hospital culture in Israel was such that the babies were taken to the nursery; and the moms were strongly encouraged to rest - even up to 6 hours at a stretch that first night after delivery.  My first postpartum room after his birth was one which I shared with three other new moms, so there literally wasn't enough room to have him with me all the time, even if I wanted to!  I realized from that experience that nothing dire would happen if I actually relaxed, trusted the nursery workers, and let myself get some solid sleep.  Nobody took my baby, he didn't get switched, and we had no problem bonding with each other.  As a matter of fact, we're still pretty bonded.  :)

So, with Moriah, I gratefully handed her over to the nurses and gratefully settled down to get some good, rejuvenating sleep.  Then when they brought her to me, I very gratefully gathered her up in my arms, snuggled her close, nursed her, and loved on her.  It was wonderful.  :)

Moriah was so sleepy that she honestly didn't nurse the greatest while she was in the hospital, but I wasn't too concerned.  I knew that the sleepy newborn days don't last forever, and soon enough she would be more alert and able to really latch on and nurse for a longer period of time.  Sure enough, that has happened just like I imagined.  :)

The night passed peacefully; and gradually, the sky lightened and morning came.  When the new nurse who came on duty that morning entered my room, she had a younger woman with her - a nursing student from EMU who was doing part of her training.  To be perfectly honest, by that point in time, I was far enough away from the delivery to have recovered my sense of modesty (just like "they" always say, when you're having a baby, your sense of modesty really flies out the window; and in the intense moments, you don't care a bit who sees you!); and I was getting a little tired of new nurses parading into the room, telling me that they needed to check my bleeding, then yanking off the covers (OK, they don't yank them, but they do pull them down), and exposing me.  "Enough!" I wanted to say.  Then in came this new nurse trailed by a student.  "Oh, good grief, do they have to see me, too?" I thought.  Later I felt very fortunate indeed because I saw in the nursery that one of the other student nurses who was in the middle of training was a young man!  At least I didn't have to have him!!  :)  (And by the way, let me state plainly that I realize that male medical personnel do a fine job and are very professional with what they do.  My own dad, for example, delivered babies.  So I am in no way putting down male doctors or nurses - far from it!  I'm just admitting what my frame of mind was that morning.  I'd had enough people peering at my parts for a while!)  ;-)

As it turned out, both the regular nurse and the student one were very nice, so I quickly got over my initial feelings.  I had to smile to myself later that morning, however, when it was time for me to get my Rhogam shot which is given in the hip.  The student nurse got the job of giving it to me, and the regular nurse coached her:  "Now you find the hip bone, and then you go over a couple inches, and then you find this spot..." or whatever she said.  Goodness, how much longer does my derriere need to be studied before we can just go ahead and get this shot over with???  ;-)

At some point that morning, Jeff came to the hospital to be with me until it was time to come home.  Our friend Becky and her daughter Kathryn were taking care of the boys, and we surely appreciated their help so Jeff could be free to be with me.

There was a parade of people in and out of my room that morning: the doctor who checked Moriah and informed us that she was perfectly healthy and was ready to be discharged that day, the midwife Marty who was on call that day and who I really appreciated seeing (she was so warm and friendly), the lactation consultant, the photographer (who I politely informed that I didn't really want her to take pictures of Moriah - after all, I knew we wouldn't order any, so I didn't want to waste her time), the lady who took the information for the birth certificate and then returned a little later to show the form to me and make sure she had done it correctly, and of course, the nurses.  Always the nurses.  :)  It made me laugh a little because everyone who was giving me advice about postpartum care for me and care for Moriah would say something like, "You probably already know this because you've had five children..."; but then they would go right ahead and tell it to me anyway.  :)  I know they have to follow protocol, so I didn't mind...but it was amusing.  :)

Moriah had to stay in the hospital long enough to have a certain blood test (which one it was slips my mind at the moment) 24 hours after birth, so while we were waiting for that time to come and for all the procedures to finally be finished, I eagerly laid out her going-home outfit (including this hat!) and baby blanket.  :)

This blanket is so special to me.  It was crocheted by my maternal grandmother (who was a prolific crocheter, and gave an afghan to each of her grandchildren) and was saved by me until the day we had a girl.  Of course, I didn't know if that day would ever come!  But for all these years, that blanket has laid in the drawer and waited...waited for April 10, 2012, the day we brought our daughter home from the hospital.  :)

As I laid out these special things, I was admiring the detail on Moriah's outfit: the "little lady" words on the front, the tiny bow on the sleeve, the "shoe" on the foot.  Oh what fun it is to finally have girly clothes for a baby!  :)

One other thing I did that morning while we were waiting to be discharged was to take a picture of the room sign for the postpartum room I was in...

...and then walk back to the labor and delivery room in which I gave birth and take a picture of that sign, too.  These must be the best two rooms in the hospital; they're the most special to me anyway!  :)

Jeff got to snuggle with Moriah while we waited...

...and he took this picture of her with his phone, right before I got her dressed for the trip home.  Her last picture in hospital garb.  :)

Every time I dress a newborn for the first time, I remember doing that with Josiah; and that time, I cried and cried as the geyser of postpartum hormones hit me for the first time and I was overwhelmed by the love and joy and yes, the helplessness that new mothers feel.  With Moriah, I didn't cry at all - rather, I simply enjoyed the delightful task of dressing my daughter in her own clothes for the first time and preparing to take her home with me.  Oh, the wonder of it all!

Jeff took these pictures, of course; and I didn't think about it at the time, but I was glad to see the pink hydrangeas from Amanda in the background.  :)

The hat was much too big for Moriah's head, but she got to wear it anyway.  :)

It always seems to take forever to finish all the paperwork and jump through all the hoops to leave the hospital, but finally the moment drew near.  Moriah still had the special anklet on that would set off the hospital alarm system if someone tried to take her out of the maternity ward, so the nurse cut that off her foot.  Instantly though, the alarm started to ring; and after making a sound of frustration at herself, the nurse hustled out of the room to take care of it.  She had forgotten that before you take the anklet off, you have to disconnect it in the computer system.  Oops!  We just waited there in the room with Moriah; and in a little bit, the nurse was back, apologetic for forgetting that minor detail.  ;-)

And then we were free to go!  I got the special wheelchair ride out of the hospital and into the bright sunshine of a phenomenal day - the day we brought Moriah home.

When we got home, we discovered that our home had been lavishly decorated by Becky and Kathryn (with "help" from our boys, of course).  Everything was PINK.  Although I tried to convince my hormones to stay in line, I just couldn't help it and I had to cry a little when I walked in and felt the love.  :)  Becky also prepared a dinner for us that night which was so kind of her to do.

The boys helped make this special welcome home sign for us.

 You can imagine how nice it was to see those names "Mom & Moriah" together.  :)

 Such sweetness.  :)

When we got home, the boys were nearly as excited to hold Moriah as they had been the day before in the hospital.  Well, Shav seemed more interested in trying on Moriah's hat; but the others wanted to hold her.  ;-)

Even Shav got to have her on his lap.  :)

Josiah patiently and maturely let the others go first before he took his turn.

David had to have a little fun with Moriah's hat, too.  :)

Later that afternoon, Jeff used his phone to snap this picture of Moriah and I napping on the couch.  It was SO GOOD to be home!

The rest of the story of Moriah's first week is told in this post.

And that is the end of the birth story of this beautiful child, this amazing creature of God, this gorgeous girl, this cherished one.

Our Moriah!