"My Story..." Monday: Her Name

I always think it's odd when parents don't have a name picked out for their child. Yes, I realize it's a major decision and it takes time to pick "just the right one". And, yes, I also realize that sometimes mom and dad just can't seem to agree on the best name. I'm also well aware that some people like to "wait and see their baby" to decide. (For the record, this is a little odd to me just because brand-new newborns bear precious little resemblance to the babies they will become but, whatever...)

Anyway, it has always seemed to me that you should have a name ready when your baby comes. I can't remember at what exact point we settled on our "girl's name" and "boy's name" for our first child, but I know for a fact that that entire last month of my pregnancy I knew exactly what we would name our baby as soon as we found out the gender at birth.

With this baby who just arrived in the wee hours of Christmas Eve? It was a tad different. Born almost four months early, she shocked us both with her early arrival. Who truly thinks they have to have a name all settled upon by 24 weeks into the pregnancy? We sure didn't. Yeah, yeah, we had definitely "talked names" and kicked around some ideas. There were some true front-runners. As I mentioned earlier, I had also declared upon realizing our baby would arrive on Christmas Eve that, should we have a girl, I wanted her middle name to be Noelle. And it is. My husband did not deny me that...

What's interesting is that, while I was being asked, "Do you have a name for her?" in the OR, my husband was being asked the exact same question en route to the NICU.

Even more interesting? We both answered the question without hesitation. And we both gave the exact same name.

We hadn't discussed it. Truly, we had had scarier and more pressing things on our minds the last couple of days. But, somehow, we both just knew that this little girl was to be our C. (Side note- Want to know something odd and kind of eerie? The NICU nurses at our particular hospital reported to us that, in their opinion, the worst name to give your micropreemie daughter is "Miracle"... none of them had ever had a baby given that name survive... strange, eh?)

And thus began our journey as the parents of a micropreemie. The roller coaster was just getting started.

**I only use initials throughout my blog, but if you're particularly curious about C's name, I will tell you this much.... we shot a commercial and her name is in it. You can see some of the extra footage from that commercial in my right side-bar. In it, I say her name. ;)

Saving A Fetus

What bothers me the most about this whole situation is how everyone keeps calling it a baby... that's a fetus,. not a baby, and we're talking about a miscarriage, not a premature birth. The doctors who resuscitated that thing should be sued...

--anonymous comment left on a post about the Duggar's 19th child (the page has since been removed so I cannot properly link to it- my apologies)

Whether you look upon the Duggar family with morbid fascination, as a source of inspiration, or simply as an example of what NOT to do, this is not the time to pass judgement. A fragile baby girl's life hangs in the balance... a little girl no less precious to God for having arrived too soon. I confess- I almost threw up when I read the above comment... it goes so very against what I believe, but I was also staggered by the lack of compassion being shown.

I encourage you to take a moment to pray for Josie... pray that she has the fighting spirit she'll need to be triumphant. Pray that God looks over her on this, her first Christmas season. And, just for a moment, pray for those so misguided they would write the above...

My First Christmas As "Mommy"

Please take a moment to hop over and read my guest post here at Vanderbilt Wife. Jessie asked me to reflect on my first Christmas as a mommy. Boy, was mine a doozy...

Mr. Knows-All-Tells-All

My oldest child, and only son, is a bright child. Scratch that. He's actually a "gifted" child. I'll be writing more about what it's like to parent a gifted child at a later date because, trust me, it's not all about just "having a smart kid"...

Anyway, for now, suffice it to say that he's a pretty sharp little cookie with an outstanding memory.

Truth?

Sometimes that's kind of annoying.

Like when I tell my neighbor that we were at Walmart a couple days ago and he points out, "Actually, it was THREE days, Mama... that's not a couple, that's a few..."

Or when I fix supper and he feels the need to share, "This is NOT what you had on your menu plan" (because, yes, he can read it... in cursive...)

Or when he needs to fill in every.last.detail of my watered-down accounts to my in-laws...

But that's just him.

Yesterday, I made a big deal out of letting him hold on to the gift bag of homemade granola we had made for his bus driver. And, admittedly, I was enjoying his skills as I said, "What does the tag say, Sweetie?"

He read it aloud:

"Miss Erin- Merry Christmas! Love, A."

I was proud!

"Yep!" I said, "Won't Miss Erin be happy?"

He nodded.

Two minutes later, he said, "This granola is for Guy's bus driver."

Hmmm? Come again?

"Sweetie, this is for YOUR bus driver, for Miss Er..."

Shoot!

Karen! KAREN is his driver's name! And I'd written "Erin" in nice bold Sharpie on the pretty, vintage-looking tag I'd attached. Shoot!

I ran down to my car for scissors and a pen and, well, did my best.

Karen was, indeed, happy.

Guy's bus driver? Well, unfortunately, she's out of luck.

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I'm very grateful for my know-it-all son who saved me some embarrassment! This post is linked to Gratituesday, hosted by Heavenly Homemakers.

Giving Away a BJ's Giftcard!

How far can I stretch $25 at a warehouse club? How far could you? Want a chance to find out? Head on over here!

"My Story..." Monday: "It's a ...?"

When the OR went eerily silent, I panicked. After all, there were eighteen people (nineteen now that the baby was born!) in that room. It had been noisy as all get-out. Suddenly, the only person making any noise at all was the very tiniest... our newborn.

"What's happening? What's wrong?" I asked, turning from my husband to the anesthesiologist and back again, "Why isn't anyone saying anything???"

My husband just shook his head.

The anesthesiologist leaned down and said in my ear, "It's because she's crying; 24-weekers never cry."

But cry she did... all the way down the hallway where they took her to stabilize her before making the trek to the adjoining children's hospital.*

I smiled as I heard that cry then and clung to my husband's hand. Suddenly I looked up at him...

"We don't know if we had a boy or girl!"

"Nope," he replied and gave me a little half-smile. Mostly we were both just so incredibly grateful that our child had made it through the birth!

The anesthesiologist heard this conversation and asked the OB's. They had no idea what gender the baby was-- their focus had been solely on a safe delivery and transfer of the child over to the neonatal team. The fellow called down the hall, "Can we get the gender for the parents?"

I heard a woman's voice echo back...

"It's a girl!"

And that's when we knew. We had a little girl. A precious tiny daughter who had such a fight ahead of her.

When you have a baby, you feel a rush of endorphins that flood your body with a kind of super-hero feeling. There is a kind of victory and triumph and sense of achievement that- for me, at least- goes along with giving birth that is unmatched by any other accomplishment. Every woman is different, of course, but- for me- I still had that feeling. Those early hours were ones of joy and wonder and celebration. I was never ignorant about the peril of her situation... it just wasn't at the forefront. And, for that, I am wonderfully thankful...

A few moments later, when our baby girl was stabilized, they invited my husband to accompany them on the transport over to the children's hospital. The doctors continued their work on putting me back together.

As they stitched and repaired, the head OB asked me...

"So... do you have a name for her?"

to be cont...


*Foot-note: I was extremely blessed to give birth in a city hospital connected to the children's hospital. It took mere minutes, by foot, to get my daughter to the NICU. The hospital has since further improved this by establishing a high-risk OB wing right in the children's hospital. The less travel the better for these teeny-tiny babies!

Taking The Christmas Card Photo

In retrospect, it probably would have been easier to just pick one of those cards with the three separate photo spots...

But where's the challenge in that?

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Mama! Move over here so they stop looking at you!

Um... Mama? THIS way! All three are looking at YOU!

Aw, that's kind of cute but... hey, C! Look at the camera please!

C. might be thinking too hard about this...

Oh, for Heaven's sake, what's happening HERE???

G. is done- DONE, I tell you!

A. and C. apparently didn't get the memo that G. was done, because they look sweet as pie...

In the end, we settled for this...

... Merry Christmas.

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This post is linked to Amy's Finer Things Friday.