The Detes (the birth detes, that is)

Hey bloggy friends!

My what a long time it's been!

I had a great fast from social media, but I am glad to get back into the blogging game and hear from all my "digital pen pals."

(don't you think blog friends are just updated versions of pen pals?)

And I have great news to share, which you may already know:

Evie is here!!

Yay, yay yay!!

I wanted to share the detes of her birth:

About three weeks ago, I learned at a doctor's appointment that little Evie was in the breech position. My doctor was ready to schedule a C-section, but I wanted more time for her to turn. I really did not want a C-section.

While I was biding my time and encouraging little Evie to turn around, she had other plans.

At 3:40 in the morning last week, I woke up and thought I peed myself. So I changed pajamas and got back in bed.

At 3:45 I "peed myself" again. When I got up to change again, I realized there was water all over the bathroom floor. (if you've ever been pregnant, you know that bladder control is actually lost to the extent that you would assume you peed yourself twice in the bed - ha!)

Okay, duh, Brooke. This is where I realized that my water must've broken!

I said, "Grant, don't panic, but my water just broke."

I wasn't feeling any pain, so I didn't think I was having contractions. I called my doctor, and he said to come in.

Grant began running around packing his hospital bag. I was all packed up, so I tried to find something to do and decided to put on make up and get ready for the day. I suddenly realized I forgot how we wanted to spell her name and went in her nursery to read her name on gifts people gave her. I thought, Oh crap, what if I spell it wrong on her birth certificate?!

Then, to Tuscaloosa we drove! Usually about an hour drive, but this time, with Grant's hazard lights on and an ungodly speed, it didn't take long at all. He kept yelling at cars, My wife's having a baby! Get out of the way! Don't you people know what hazard lights mean?! It really was a shame I couldn't make it more dramatic by doubling over with some major contraction pains. (totally kidding! I'm so thankful for such a pain-free, stress-free ride to the hospital.)

There was one nagging worry in mind, however, that I kept praying about on the way - Evie being breech.

I so wanted to deliver normally without a C-section. Since my doctor had talked about the option, I had read about them, and really, really did not want the tough recovery that comes with them. Please let her turn, Lord, please let her turn.

But wanting to follow my Master's example, I always ended the prayer with, but not what I want, what you want.

When we got to the emergency room, they took us up to Labor & Delivery. They did a quick sonogram and confirmed that Evie was still breech. C-section it was. Okay, Lord, I know you've got this.

I wasn't worried and thought they'd take their time, but it turned out that I was having strong contractions every 4-5 minutes (thank God I never felt them!), so they wheeled me back to an emergency C-section.

In the hall, they grabbed Grant to take him away to prep him to enter the operating room.

This was the worst time.

They didn't tell me Grant would be leaving for a moment - they just grabbed him. Time didn't allow them to tell me much, really. When I was wheeled into the OR the lights were bright, it was so cold, there were so many people rushing around, then lots of people doing very uncomfortable things to me like putting in a catheter, doing the spinal, and doing all the things to prep me for surgery. I just kept thinking this is best for Evie and God will take care of us both and squeezing the sides of the cold metal operating table to deal with the pain of all the poking and prodding.

Finally - Grant came back. They restrained my arms and drew up the sheet so I couldn't see. I felt tugging and pulling and tried to tell myself that they were just prepping the area and sterilizing, not wanting to think that they were actually cutting me open behind that sheet.

I started to cry thinking of Grant having to watch that. I was thinking that he really had the worst position in this whole experience. Worrying about Evie and watching your wife get cut open.

Later he told me that the hardest part was smelling burned flesh from when they cauterize the layers to control bleeding. Good thing all I could smell was the latex-y smell from the hospital sheet drawn in front of my face!

But soon after I felt the tugging and pulling, I heard the sweetest little raspy cry! Stupid sheet in my face - I couldn't see her!

Then one of the nurses showed her to me and I was so sad I couldn't move my arms and hold her. Grant went to hold our little one and watch them do all her tests.

I could hear her crying and him talking to her, and I started crying again. Stupid C-section. I can't hold her yet! I tried to keep it together while they sewed and stapled me back up.

Soon, Grant brought her back over to me and I got to kiss her little face. The prettiest little face I've ever seen!

Then they took her again. Boo! When I am I gonna get to hold her?

Unfortunately, I had to be wheeled to surgical recovery and I couldn't see or hold Evie until I could wiggle my toes. Grant was with Evie, so again I was alone and started to cry.

I looked at my toes and tried to will them to move. Wiggle, you stupid toes, wiggle!!

They must've begun my morphine drip somewhere around here because I really can't remember much after this. I remember being in our final hospital room, but I don't remember getting there. Grant has pictures of me holding Evie, so I guess those stinking toes finally wiggled and I finally got to hold her.

The next couple of days in the hospital are a little foggy. Pain, sweet visitors that I can't remember talking to who made fun of weird things I said later, lots of holding and feeding my sweet, sweet Evie, and her eating like a champ. ooh, a freebie, I thought, nursing will go off without a hitch.

I couldn't finish a prayer without falling asleep those next few days in the hospital, but I do remember that God sent his Comforter to me like never before. The day before I went into labor, I had reread something in the Bible that I've read numerous times before - when Jesus fed the multitude with the loaves and fish.

When he was on Earth, he went around showing compassion to people by healing them and feeding them. He did that because that's his character - he is both provider and healer. I just prayed over and over, be my Provider and Healer.

Provide me with wisdom to know how to care for Evie. Provide me with healing in my body so I can recover quickly and do the things I need to do for her. Provide energy for middle-of-the-night feedings. Provide me with an assurance of your love and grace at all moments to be my strength and joy. Provide me with enough faith and trust that Your plans are, in fact, perfectly perfect when I start to think I got stinky deal with this whole c-section thing, and when I start to lament that I will probably always have to have them with all my kiddos. Provide for me and heal me. Provide for Evie and Grant and bring Your fulness of joy and wholeness to our little family.

I know there are much, much worse things than a C-section, and that they are actually quite common, but it's not what I would've chosen. But like so many things that we wouldn't have chosen for ourselves, it has helped me to grow in my dependence on my God and He has been glorified for his incredible faithfulness through it - and so that makes it a win! And, um, not to mention the incredible gift that came out of it: Miss Evie!!

(more on that sweet little subject later!)

It has also shown me how much I have to be grateful for.

I had never had to experienced surgery, or health problems, or physical pain at all really before this.

I have a wonderful husband who tirelessly jumps to help get done what needs to get done without being asked. (Seriously, he basically had that baby figured out before I came to from the drugs. The nurses kept talking about how impressed they were and I was all, oh yeah that's my adorable baby and my awesome husband, no biggie.)

And I'm so, so grateful for a healthy, happy baby.

I would be so thankful for her even if she wasn't this way, but she is such a little contented spirit who has made it so easy for this newbie-Mama to learn how to take care of her.

I have a lot to be thankful for, and I don't deserve any of it, but my God is so compassionate and good!