Gideon's big day

When you've birthed 8 kiddos and have had pretty much the same "experience", you get pretty confident in your abilities and know exactly how your 9th experience will be.

I always go late, never on time.  Epidurals don't work for me (tried it with #1 and 2), I labor FOR-EVER, we're talking average 20 hrs, I need Pitocin when I get to an 8 to get me to a 9, I never get to a 10, but push anyways and the baby is out after about 2 pushes.  As soon as the baby's out I have some totally euphoric experience, cheering to everyone that "I'm SOOO happy!" and pretty much cartwheel out of the bed, going home the next day because nurses get all made at me when they bring me my babies and I fall asleep with them in bed. 

I was a little nervous though with Gideon because I had a doctor and I just prefer midwives.  Not an option for me here however (they only do home births and I'm not about that at all) so whenever I met with my doctor and she'd mention, "You're old ... we can't let you go too long ... you're old ... you're old ... " I got a little apprehensive.  In my opinion, doctors equaled C-section and since C-sections involve epidurals and since epidurals don't work for me, I seriously wondered if I was gonna die this time around.

My last check up with my doctor found me dilated to a "tight 1" (or was she lying?  Was I really more like a 3 and she just wanted to C-section the baby out?) and a scheduled induction date for the next Wednesday.  I about had a heart attack.  I wasn't contracting or even Braxton hicking anymore and if I was going to be induced, I just saw it ending in a total train wreck.

I asked Matt for a blessing Tuesday night.  It was apparent to me that I wasn't going to go into labor on my own and seriously, I started thinking of all the "single friends" I have who could take my place, mothering my kids.  Not even kidding.

The one thing he in the blessing he said that hit me, that I remember and will never forget, was, "The Lord is aware of you.  He will take care of you, not in the way you expect, but He will take care of you."

I was mad.  After the blessing I was like, "What kind of blessing was that?!  I didn't want to hear THAT!  What did you mean by that?!"  Poor Matt was all, "I just say what I feel impressed to say!"  Well then say something good was pretty much my response. 

It was a blessing that did not at all comfort me.

The next day I went to the hospital.  Still only dialated to a 1.  So I said, "sorry guys, please tell my doctor that I won't be induced" and I left the hospital.  Went home and took a brisk 3 mile walk around the arboretum and suffered ZERO Braxton hicks or contractions.  The walk was brisk because I was ABLE to do it.

Thursday around 1AM my water broke.  Just a trickle, but enough to wake me up.  I was glad that I started labor on my own and figured any minute contractions would start and we'd have another awesome "Sadie easy delivery" experience.  I went to bed anticipating the contractions and slept soundly until 6 when the kids had to get up. 

ZERO contractions.

So the plan was, get the kids to school and then I needed to go to the sports store for soccer paraphernalia and then I was going to hit the mall and check out sales at DownEast.  Right before I left the phone rang.  It was Matt.

"I told the doctor (Matt works for a doctor) about you and she strongly suggested that you go ahead and get seen at the hospital."

That rubbed me wrong.  I can listen to a doctor OR I can listen to my body.  And my body was telling me to get as much done before labor actually starts.  Matt repeated what he thought I should do.  I relented, only because it was still before 10 and nothing was opened yet.  I could get the hospital hoop-lah out of the way then get the fun stuff done.

I rushed out the door, just with my purse and promised my crying 2 and 4 year old, "have fun with Grandma, I'll be right back."

Famous last words.

When I got to the hospital and explained things, they said, "lets just see if that was your water that broke."

I knew it was cuz I know my body.

I was right.

But since I wasn't contracting AT ALL I told the nurses, "I need to go though because I'm really not in labor."

"Well honey, your water broke almost 12 hours ago, so you really NEED to be in labor."
"Annnd I'm not, so I'm going to leave."
"Well honey, you really can't.  We need to start you on some Pitocin"
"But I'm only dialated to a 1."
"We know."

I texted Matt crying.   I can't be given Pitocin at a 1.  That needs to happen when I'm at an 8.  It's happened EVERY TIME.  I told him I was upset and he needed to come as soon as he could.  He was at my bedside in the hour.

They started the pit and for about 5 hours we hung out in the hospital room and took some laps around the floor.  This was a complete night mare.  Normally I labor walking around Target and getting lunch with Matt.  After 5 hrs on  pit I had dialated to a 4. 

Defeating.

They upped the pit and yeah, it started getting quite uncomfortable.  But baby wasn't descending.  Sooo, what do you do when you're laboring with Pitocin and it's been 16 hours?  You do lunges and squats and hip swirls.  Yup, that's what the nurses had me doing.  And it was best to do this through the contractions.

11PM.  I was dialated to a 7.  My water had been broken 18 hours and baby's heart wasn't handeling the contractions well.  I was exhausted and frankly, panicking.  C-section seemed to loom in the dark corners of my room like a murderer.  What was wrong with my body?!

Honestly, the pain got so great and I was starting to feel so defeated that when they suggested, for the umpteenth time that I try an epidural, I relented. 

And I totally felt at peace about it.

Long story short, THE EPIDURAL WORKED!  And this was the reason Matt said what he said.  I would get an epidural that "I didn't want" and it would end up working.  I fell back in my bed so happy, so reassured, so relaxed.  I knew I'd be able to snooze and then I'd push and we'd have our baby.

Around 3AM the doctor woke me up, surrounded by 3 nurses.

"Erika, your baby's heart is not dealing well at all with the contractions.  If you're not dialated and can't push RIGHT NOW we have to have a C-section."

I knew I'd be able to push once she checked me.  And it'd be real quick.

"You're still at a 7."

And I totally felt at peace.

I got the "mother of all mother" shots that just went into my epidural and immediately felt "out of it."  I remember being wheeled out in my bed.  I remember we rode in an elevator.  I remember the super bright room.  I remember them putting a little hat thing on my head.  I remember them lifting me off of my bed onto another bed.  I remember them putting some drape thing over my chest.  I remember my doctor asking me, "Erika, can you feel this?"
"No"
"Good"

I closed my eyes.  I knew what was happening.  I braced for the "uncomfortable tugging and pulling".  I felt one tiny tug.  One tiny pull.  And then I heard his cry.

I could hardly turn my head towards Matt but did anyways, asking him if the baby was out.  Matt said yes.  I was so glad.  I was so glad he was out, that he was alive, that things really DID go well.  I couldn't wait to be undrugged so I could hold our caboose. 

I saw right away that he had dark hair.  That meant he'd be Gideon.  I really liked Soren and William as names, but they seemed like "white people names".  I have to admit, I REALLY wanted Soren.  Always have, but he was such a dark baby, it just didn't seem to fit.  He'd be Gideon Cruz.  I saw right away that he had FAT already!  Fat forearms, fat thighs, fat calves, he even had fat on the back of his neck. 
"9 lbs 2 ounces!"  Yup, our fattest baby.
"21 inches!"  And our longest! 

I quickly calculated that it meant that I easily lost 10 lbs.  Maybe even 11 with my placenta.  Priorities.

I noticed his eyes.  Holy cow he pulled from the Filipino side!  I joked to myself that I'd have to reassure Matt that he was indeed HIS baby.  I've done that with several of our kids.

Matt left when they took Gideon and I closed my eyes, so exhausted, drifting in and out of "lucidity."  I remember the elevator ride back.  I remember they brought me back to a new room.  I was so tired.  It was just past 3:30AM.

Around 12 they brought Gideon to me.  I was still "loopy."  He nursed a bit.  My gosh he was fat!  So much goodness to kiss.  He was pretty chill.  I was in love.

I called my sister.
"He's here!  And he's perfect!"
We commented on how lucky I was to have 9 healthy babies.  Though her jaw dropped when she found out I had to have a C-section.  Can't be totally lucky, but lucky enough.

They took Gideon back, I rested.  Around 3 Matt came back with Gideon.  He was holding him, playing with the fat on the back of his neck.  We were chatting, I was still a bit loopy, but we really wanted to bring the kids to the hospital to meet their brother.  Matt wanted to shower before he left.

"Let me hold him while you shower" I said.
Matt started to hand him to me, then he stopped.  And stared.

"What are you doing?"
Silence.
Then I saw why Matt didn't answer.  Gideon was dark grey.  His face was dark grey.

"Take him to the nurses!" I yelled.  Well, not really yelled.  I was suddenly frantic.  I think it was actually more of a whisper.  I didn't have to say anything.  Matt was already leaving.

I don't know how long it was, if it was a short time or a long time, but Matt came back.  No Gideon.  Just Matt and my doctor and I think a nurse or 2.

"We have your baby on oxygen.  We think there are some problems with his heart.  And we drew some blood to run some tests.  We think he may have down syndrome."

Matt was sitting on the bed with me.  I had a wash cloth in my hands because ... well, I don't know why.  I just did.  We looked at each other and I lost it.  It hurt so much to cry but I couldn't stop.  I was digging the wash cloth in my eyes and just balling.  Matt was crying. 

I had never felt so helpless or lost or confused in my life.  Heart problems?  Trisomy 21?  Total fear grabbed my chest.  What if I lose him?  I didn't know how bad his heart was.  I know nothing about hearts period.  Except that they beat.  And if they stop, you die.  Was that my baby?

Down syndrome?  I couldn't believe I was hearing that and it was pertaining to my life.  My baby.  My child.  My Gideon.

I needed to see him.  Desperately.

I was put in a wheel chair and we entered the hallway.  The hallway I had been walking just hours before, for hours.  It looked so foreign to me all of a sudden.  They rolled me next to his little bed and gave him to me.  He was bundled up and Matt held the oxygen tube to his nose.  He looked so peaceful.  So perfect.  I started kissing him.  I couldn't stop.  I couldn't kiss him enough.  He was mine, he was ours.  We'd take him just the way he was, we'd raise him with love, in a loving home, just the way he was.  But please Heavenly Father, don't take him from us.  I couldn't stop crying.

"We need to fly him to Spokane."

Could this day get any worse?

"The doctor wants to monitor you though, so you will need to be here until Monday."

Not gonna happen.

I held Gideon, kissed him, cried on him.  I heard helicopter sounds and asked, "is that for him?"
"Yes."

Make it stop!

"We need to take you back to your room so the flight crew and get him ready.  They will bring him to you before they load him up."

I don't remember anything after that.  Just helplessness.  After what seemed like an eternity they wheeled Gideon in.  He was in the capsule thing.  I couldn't touch him. 

Watching them wheel Gideon out was pretty much more than I could bare.  I really don't remember anything at all after that.  Well, I take that back.  I heard the helicopter leave.  I told them to call me when they got there.  I needed to know they landed safely.

Shortly thereafter they did call.  They were at the Sacred Heart nicu.  Matt was going to drive there immediately.  It was around 5 or 6PM on Friday.  The nurses knew I was going to be leaving the next day.  I told them I didn't care what my doctor said.

A few hours later Matt sent me pics from the nicu in Spokane.  He was holding Gideon.  Gideon was sleeping. 

I look back on that day, almost 4 weeks ago, and I see the blessing Matt gave me.  Only this time, it brings so much comfort.  Because now, I see God's hand.  He took care of things in His way.  I actually believe my doctor saved Gideon's life.  Had he went through the birth canal, his compromised heart may not have made it.  My mom wasn't going to come but one morning, woke up feeling like she needed to be here.  Heavenly Father put people in my life in those first days and weeks who literally carried me.  My sister told me how I won the lottery with a down syndrome baby.  Paula comforted, supported and listened to me.  Missy made me laugh.  Kristine lined up people to make dinners for my family.  Patty brought me toiletries and treats.  And so many people prayed.  So many people prayed for my sweet Gideon.

I think one of the biggest ways God showed His hand was simply via Gideon's name.  It means "great warrior."

I think before he came to this Earth, Gideon was a great warrior.  And I think he's going to continue being a great warrior.  As a matter a fact, I know it.

"He came to heal you"

It's 4:20am and I'm at home.  It's been a week now since Gideon was born.  A week since my life has truly changed for ever.  I just pumped 60mls of milk to take to the hospital later on when I go back.  I'll be there all week long.  I still won't want any visitors.

It's interesting to me.  Before he was born, we had 3 names we liked for our baby boy.  Soren, William, and Gideon.  We didn't know which but felt like we would as soon as he was born.  As soon as he was born, we knew.  Gideon.  A few days ago I re-read the stories of Gideon in the Book of Mormon.  He was named perfectly.

I wanted to write about the weeks and months leading up to Gideon's birth.  Because that's what's most heavy on my mind.  I will write about his delivery and finding out about his diagnosis later.  This just seems more pressing.

I believe satan knows more about us than we realize.  We moved from VA to ID last year.  December 2014.  We had a 6 week window to make that move.  It was stressful and I remember one day being so overwhelmed with everything I had fallen into the fetal position in the little boys' bedroom and just cried.  It was one of those "desperate, let it all out cries" but I felt better afterwards.  At that same time, I also found out that my college boyfriend turned fiancé who I broke up with just to serve a mission had died.  For the first time in my life my heart broke.  I cried so much. 

We made the trip, everything fell into place, and our new home proved awesome.  A few months later I had back to back miscarriages.  Then I got pregnant and 2 weeks later blew my knee out playing basketball.  It was the 2nd day of summer when I did this.  I was couch bound for several weeks then limped around for the rest of the summer.  The kids were awesome.  They totally upped their games and took on a lot of the responsibilities themselves. 

I've always prided myself on not really struggling with depression and being in control.  I do give the credit to exercise.  There is absolutely nothing that a good little run can't take care of when I'm feeling overwhelmed or down.  I love sports and working out.  It's a huge reason why I am so supportive of my kids playing sports and being active.  It'll serve them their entire lives.

I normally work out and play sports throughout my pregnancies.  My theory is, "if they say listening to Mozart or reading to your growing belly helps make your child smarter, then playing sports and working out will make your child an athlete."  ;)  Just another bonus to staying active whilst pregnant in my opinion.

This go around, I couldn't.  As soon as I healed enough to start working out, SOMETHING got in the way.  Sick kids so no gym, fall turned into winter and holy cow, the winters here are nothing like my mild ones back in VA.  I couldn't take the little ones out much at all for walks.  And talk about GRAY!  The entire month of January was seriously ALL GRAY.  Welcome to ID I guess?

What I didn't see coming was how this all was affecting me.  I found myself irritable, impatient and scatterbrained more than usual.  And that was when satan went in for the strike.

I started questioning and doubting so much.  I'd randomly write on pieces of paper, "what's happening to me?"  I even started wondering if I had made the right decision 20 plus years ago to break up with Dirk to serve a mission.  I found myself questioning so much about the church.  Yes, I have a testimony of Joseph Smith seeing Heavenly Father and Jesus, thus being called as a prophet in these latter day and yes, I have a testimony of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon, but other things started bothering me about the church.  And it truly scared me.  And when I prayed or read scriptures looking for answers, the heavens just felt so closed off to me.  Nothing.

It even got to the point that I REALLY began to question my worth as a mother.  Even my role as a wife.  It just really sucked that I was 42, living in a 1600 square foot home with kids who, like lemmings, were feeling the squeeze and taking it out on each other.  Bickering over stupid things, being ungrateful, demanding things I would have NEVER even THOUGHT to ask for as a child.  It got to the point that I remember thinking, "have I been brainwashed as a Mormon into thinking that motherhood is all that it's cracked up to be?"  I started to really feel like I was wasting my time and being a wife and mother was really, for the birds.

I pleaded so much with my Heavenly Father to ease my thoughts, to bless me with comfort, to really take me out of my thoughts.  And nothing.  Matt gave me blessing after blessing.  Still nothing.

And then Gideon was born.

And all of a sudden it became so clear to me why satan was attacking me so much.  I simply did not know that I was carrying a spirit so elite, so valiant in the pre-existence, that not only did he not need to be tested in the mortal life, but that his only mission here on Earth would be to bring out the best and Christ-like attributes in those who he came into contact with. 

As I held Gideon in my arms during this week, I would feel so many times my dependency on him.  I need him.  My spirit needs him.  I think he took me by the hand many times in the pre-life and gave me strength then.  I am confident he did that with Matt and his siblings, too.  I feel such a bond with him now, as if we've finally been reunited and our relationship we had in the pre-life would "pick up where we left off."  And that was a lot of his picking my hand up and guiding me. 

Now more than ever has my role of mother been strengthened.  It's not brainwashing.  It's what Heavenly Father wants me to do, what He needs me to do.  Coming home after a week away from the kids, I see so clearly how much these sweet spirits of mine need me and how much I need them.  Gideon reminded me of this.  satan would have me turn my back or give up on this role of mine, not that I'd "physically walk away" but easily mentally or emotionally walk away.  I have struggled for YEARS with such negative feelings towards my MIL.  Gone.  Gideon took those away from me. 

Matt told me the other day, as I shared these feelings with him, "I think Gideon came to heal you." 

Matt's right.  As I hold Gideon in the hospital, surrounded by tubes and cords and machines, I feel broken.  I feel so helpless, so desperate to fix his heart and lungs, so ... helpless.  And because of these feelings, these broken feelings, I feel changed.  Softened.  Holding on to negative things just suddenly didn't seem so important.  Feeling his warm body next to mine, looking at his perfect little face, kissing that "extra fat" around his neck,  kissing his chest to somehow give strength to his heart, taking his little hand and running it down my face.  My desire, my NEED to be his Earthly mother has changed me.  I want NOTHING MORE than to be a mom, to be a better mom than I ever have been.  Not just to him but to his siblings.  My gratitude to the Gospel, to being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints has skyrocketed.  My doubts towards the church I recognize as simply my own pride and shortcomings and these are things I can let go of. 

As much as Gideon needs me right now ... it has zero comparison to how much I need him.

In the pre-life, his spirit was stronger than mine, more valiant than mine.  I know he helped me and strengthened me a lot before this Earth life.  I came to Earth needing to prove myself.  He came to Earth not needing to prove himself.  He did come, as Matt so lovingly put it, to heal me.  I just hope and pray and plead to my Heavenly Father that I get to have him on Earth for a long time.