A Little While. Early Labor 1, 2, and...3?

Last Sunday's readings (Easter 4) in the one-year lectionary included this reading from St. John, chapter 16.

Your Sorrow Will Turn into Joy
16 "A little while, and you will see me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see me." 17 So some of his disciples said to one another, "What is this that he says to us, 'A little while, and you will not see me, and again a little while, and you will see me'; and, 'because I am going to the Father'?" 18 So they were saying, "What does he mean by 'a little while'? We do not know what he is talking about." 19 Jesus knew that they wanted to ask him, so he said to them, "Is this what you are asking yourselves, what I meant by saying, 'A little while and you will not see me, and again a little while and you will see me'? 20 Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice. You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy. 21 When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. 22 So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.

I heard J's sermon on the above text on Sunday and knew--as he did--that God never does anything by accident (including timing certain readings with certain life events of certain congregants). That being said, I'm getting a little tired of waiting during this "little while" for S to show up. At least Jesus never fails; we've had several--well, not failures, in the last days. Just false starts, so to speak.

Friday afternoon and evening (April 24) I began experiencing continuous back pain--sometimes a sign of labor. I got excited; I took a bath; I walked a few miles with Gma E. I went to bed hopeful, as did J (who gets so excited about a backache? Expectant parents, that's who). I woke up Saturday morning, and the pain was pretty much gone. I was bummed, but hey! We were still one day from the due date!

Sunday afternoon I woke up from my pretty-much-required pregnancy afternoon nap because I was experiencing back pain. It was definitely more intense than Friday's. I also noticed that I was contracting practically continuously (hard belly that never relaxed). After a few hours of this, I began thinking this might be IT (that is, ACTIVE labor). I called the midwife, who told me to wait an hour and if the pain continued, I should come in. I was rocking back and forth while I stood, or walking, or sitting for 30 seconds and standing up, which my mom pointed out was what I did when I was in labor with P. So we left for Sanford, got into triage at about 11, and spent an hour and a half walking around, seeing what would happen. In the wee hours the nurse (in consultation with the midwife) said I WAS contracting every four minutes, but the peak of the contractions was lasting about two minutes, which was why I felt like the contractions never stopped. Basically, I wasn't dialated enough for them to accept me--UNLESS I wanted to be induced. We had told Steph (the nurse) when we arrived that we wanted to experience a natural birth if at all possible, and with this in mind, we decided to stay in Sioux Falls (by this point it was about 2am) and go to my scheduled appointment on Monday morning. In the morning, the back pain woke me up again but subsided before my appointment, at which we found that I'd dialated a little more (to a 3 with 75% effacement), but again not a whole lot. We were crestfallen, to say the least. We decided to go home and wait.

Fast forward to today. I woke up due to contractions--the more predictable, peak-and-valley sort, and started timing them at about 7:30. They were five minutes apart. We called the midwife who said to come in, which we did. We saw her at about 10am, and were crestfallen--AGAIN--to find that I was still a 3 at about 75% effacement. She recommended we take a bunch of walks, eat a light lunch, and see what happened. So we did. Mall walking--with a nice, distracting stop at Old Navy--followed by a lunch in which J was convinced my contractions were coming every 4.5 minutes, followed by an hour long walk in fresh air, followed by our current stop at Barnes and Noble--our second stop here in four days. We hadn't been here for months, maybe even half a year, before that. I figured I'd catch up on blogging and fill in those who want to know the silly details of S's progress toward using his lungs and crying (and finally showing us his face so we can kiss it!!).

Needless to say, I'm feeling impatient, frustrated, and annoyed--not the least of which is self-directed, because I know a zillion other people are experiencing much, MUCH more stressful things at this time (and have before). So who am I to complain? Even the contractions, which are stupidly painful, aren't enough to make me a zombie yet. So with that in mind, I commend the following list of thankfulness for this experience:

-Good health for me and S. S has been terrific in all of this. His heart rate has been steady and strong, he's still moving at a healthy rate, and basically he's never shown any indication that he NEEDS some help being born due to any health risks. As his Aunt J says, he's like his Daddy -- taking his sweet time. :)

-The time I've had with J. Despite the let-downs and frustration, we've had time together to talk, to walk, to be quiet together. He's awesome.

-Support and prayers of many family and friends.

-Excellent health care. I truly can't wait to actually get admitted to the hospital -- the L & D unit and the Birth Place are like an exclusive spa. Pics to follow whenever we're actually there.

So there you have it -- early labor updates! God willing S will appear sometime today, or early tomorrow (hey, nine hours of five minute contractions have to get us somewhere, right?), and all of us, will be like the woman Jesus talks about: "[When] she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. 22 So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you."

Oh, right. That's the last (really, the first) thankfulness: that Jesus is with us, and always will be, in all of our waiting.

Zero. T-minus-zero hours. I'm going to be pregnant forever.

Last Sunday, post-church, with P. My hopes for delivery were higher then.

Today is S's "due date." And here I sit, putting together budgeting info for May, contemplating getting ready for church, and wondering what will happen tomorrow to the nifty widget that so accurately keeps time on S's time in the womb. Will it show a big fat "-1" tomorrow? I'd be more curious if I wasn't so convinced--again, for the second or third time this week--that I'm actually going to be pregnant forever. This isn't a complaint but rather a statement of reality (c'mon, humor me a minute): everyone descending on Pipestone for S's baptism in a few weeks will just have to hang out and B-B-Q without him, because he's staying a bump. Despite my odd conviction, J and Mom/Gma E think that S has dropped in the last day: in M's words, "Before, you had a little shelf. Now you're more egg-shaped." Awesome. And maybe I'm nesting, too, since I actually got out of bed before 10am today (thanks, P, for the banshee-like shrieks to let us know you were awake. On the upside, he's awfully smiley today. Even more than normal. Maybe he knows something I don't. Or maybe he appreciates hearing God's word the way a little child does...)

Winging and Biz-Biz

P LOVES swinging. He can say "wing," and he calls it that, so we'll just call it "winging." He also loves playing "Ring Around the Rosey" with Gma E and Daddy, and for whatever reason he calls it "Biz-biz." No pictures of that; just use your imagination.

Labor--and Life--Perspective

We just enjoyed an afternoon visit from Annetta L., a lovely lady from church. She enjoys sitting on our front porch (in fact, she gave us the handcrafted wood sign that adorns said porch in the spring, summer, and early fall that says "Come Sit On My Porch"), but today we sat around the kitchen table because a fine April shower is falling outside and the preternaturally summer-esque days of earlier this week have melted into cool, more seasonal weather. She's in her mid-80s and has lived an amazing life, not in the Hollywood sense but in the everyday vocationally blessed life that God gives each of us. She comes from a family of 15 (isn't it incredible that our freak-show fascination with families like the Duggars is merely a few generations removed from families like Annetta's?), and she and her husband had 9 children within 10 years. She told us about when she birthed her daughter Darlene and the doctor said, "It's a girl! But there's another one coming," and then son Daryl appeared. Annetta said, "If I hadn't been lying down on the table I would have fallen over." Talk about a way to find out you're expecting twins! Annetta's family didn't have running water or indoor bathrooms when the kids were young--and of course, no disposable diapers--and frankly, when I hear stories like Annetta's I am more and more convinced that my life is cake. She graciously said that the world is different now, but I can't believe that life itself is harder in a world in which we (meaning average Americans) never worry about fresh water, toilets, whether or not we've got enough food, etc. I don't mean to belittle the exhausting work that motherhood with conveniences can be like; in a few weeks (or less) I'm sure I'll be in tears from constant breastfeeding, laundry, cooking... the especially intense early weeks of new babyhood (plus an adjusting toddler). But I hope I remember when those moments come how easy I really have it. AND, as Annetta so gently and subtly shared, how fast this time goes (see precious P birthday pic from the last post).



J on our porch, back around when P was born.

Our (first?) Dual Post

It's 11:38pm and J and I are trying to think of something creative to post together for our blog. We'd talk about S, but he's still chilling out in my belly, and P's sleeping beautifully, and the weather's still summertime awesome (but who talks about weather but old people or strangers or people who don't know what else to talk about?)... so with that, J's come up with an evening hymn stanza for you to enjoy.

Someday.

Okay.

My loved ones, rest securely,
For God this night will surely
From peril guard your heads.
Sweet slumbers may He send you
And bid His hosts attend you
And through the night watch o'er your beds.

Now Rest Beneath Night's Shadow, LSB #880

Relaxation and Exhaustion, P style.

P really knows how to relax. Here he is a few days ago during his afternoon nap. Coincidentally, he also adopts this pose frequently in his stroller. (During our wonderful cruise after Christmas with family last year, fellow cruisers enjoyed this very visible manifestation of his ease. It translates into English as, "Life is good.") It also shows that despite his close resemblance to his mommy, he is, in fact, his daddy's son (because daddy likes to relax this way, too).

P also knows how to burn energy at incredibly high rates, as he did today. We went to Sioux Falls for Mommy's check-up (2 cm. dilated! YES! I'm guessing Wednesday or Thursday--okay, HOPING for those days--for S's arrival) and our twice-a-month shopping rampage. P made it through the doctor visit, lunch and some stops at the mall, and three grocery stops, all the while contributing to our projects (holding peanut butter in the cart, watching Cars on store TVs, watching trains (real ones and model ones), and now that we're home he's been busy building with his Duplos, setting his matchbox cars on the bookshelf, reading books, running around with Gma E (whose presence for the last days has been priceless, especially since she runs after P when I can barely move my fingers), and singing Wee Sing songs. Oh, and pulling copies of school work off of our computer printer for me (he hears the printer, runs from wherever he is into our room, and hands me the papers so nicely. The printer's two feet from me and keyboard, but no matter). I suspect he'll fall asleep tonight in the same pose we enjoyed the other day -- because who sleeps better than people who've had long, full, productive, fresh-air laden days?

FYI: I intend to cap this day by watching a classic flick that, for some reason or another, I've wanted to watch close to both P and S's due dates: Smokey and the Bandit. I'm not sure what a car chase and Jackie Gleason have in common with very pregnant women (or at least ONE very pregnant woman), but that's that!

The Little Throne, Part II.

SUCH a big deal. Here's the official throne portrait, sans user. P has now, in the last few days, begun to tell us "Wet" unprovoked and actually done his little sprinkle in the throne BEFORE his diaper gets soiled. Amazing. Truly a miracle in the making.

Blurbs

I know: people hate gushing. But J deserves a public embrace for his lovely post from the other day. The man is incredible--not perfect, but certainly the perfect man for me. He sleeps behind me as I type this, his patience proven again by his ability to put up with my occasionally nocturnal turns.

I hear thunder outside. Though this might seem commonplace to many of you, I associate thunder with summer--which is what our recent weather has been like. I'll take it, and take it, and take it. Along with the numerous contractions I've been experiencing for the last hour and a half. AND I hope you enjoy the new Babystrology widget here; I know, it'll be pointless very soon, but isn't it COOL? Sorry, no more gushing.

The Little Throne

Not that I think everyone really WANTS to read about bathroom trips, bowel movements, and other bodily functions best left in the can where they belong, but we are very excited to announce that P has sprinkled into his little throne three times in the last two days. It's been hilarious--he laughs the entire time, so what can we do but laugh?--and exciting. A long, long time ago I thought by some great miracle P could be potty-trained by the time S arrives. I know that won't happen, but it sure is exciting that he's catching on to big boy habits before the new pooker starts adding his own excrement to the Olson collection. Now, seriously -- aren't you glad you read this?

I Love My Wife

I want everyone to know that I love my wife Emily with all my heart.
As we enter into the last few days of our marriage with one extrauterine baby
I want her to know how special these 21 months have been as a family.
May we continue to be united in marriage by the blessings bestowed upon us
through THE Bridegroom.

Gentle Sunshine Sunday and P's Two Cents

4-11-2010

Here's my first attempt to add some very current pictures of P -- let's hope it works! (If so, I've finally gotten to the point where getting pics to family is "easy" -- that is, this takes less than five minutes. This, suffice it to say, AFTER J took 30 minutes to add pics from our camera to Picasa (if I would have done it, I'd have taken an hour. I am SO DUMB with this stuff.) Anyway, I'm still holding out hope that adding pics here will get easier -- and you all will benefit in the long run.

We had a nice weekend -- M family over on Saturday night, along with their new yellow lab puppy Brinkley. P calls him "Binky." I think the nickname has already stuck. Today we enjoyed an uplifting church service and then spent the entire afternoon with the B family in Fulda (Dad D and Mom J) -- dinner followed by the community theater production of "Anne of Green Gables" in which not one, not two, but six B offspring took part. And four more awesome B kids were at home with D and our P, who slept the entire duration of the play. All the B's did terrific, and we greatly enjoyed the relaxing time both watching the play (and me reminiscing about fun productions) and visiting with the B's. We also met JB's parents and marveled at their experiences -- J's dad is a retired pastor who was an assistant pastor for a time in Stamford, Connecticut (a skip over from Norwalk, where our J vicared!) and J's mom is a German-speaking Ukrainian by birth who last saw her parents at age 6 during WWII, managed to immigrate to the U.S. at age 18 in the mid-1950s, and generally has lived through enough hardship and heartbreak to put us to shame (I'm leaving out lots of incredible details), and yet radiates warmth and kindness. Amazing. God gives perspective in so many ways.

So we moseyed home in the late afternoon sunshine and chilled on the porch for awhile. P decided to organize his cars in several places (see pics above) -- SUCH a typical activity for him. J and I were discussing evening plans (you know, the kind that don't address what actually NEEDS to be done but rather what we WANT to do), and I threw out a few movie ideas, which J shrugged off. Then I said to him, "Well, what other happy movies can you think of to watch?" And after a pause, P looked up from his cars and said simply, "Ning-ning," his word for "Lightning," the main character in Cars. J and I just started laughing. P is so much smarter than we give him credit for -- and it's slightly unnerving at times like these to realize that he understands 85-90% of what we're saying because he throws in his two cents. Of course, when the Little Diplomat saw us laughing, he really pressed his case and rattled off the names of the other Cars characters -- "Doc," "Wee-ja" [Luigi], "Ma-ma" [Mater... I try not to take this personally :)], "Darge" [Sarge] -- as he promptly went in the house and sat on the couch, expecting us to put in the movie right away. Maybe he WILL be a lawyer like his Uncle C. Thank you, Pixar, for expediting the argumentation education of our son at his ripe old age of 21 months. And no, we didn't actually watch his selected movie but another Pixar flick -- which he actually loved. Maybe we're going to move beyond Cars someday!

Blog Name: Forgiven Olsons

This is my first post on our blog called Forgiven Olsons.

Let me just say that the title of our blog is entirely appropriate. If you have another name for our blog would you please post it!

Waiting for Godot... actually, S.

Well, we're two weeks and three days out from the big due date, and all of a sudden I feel like we're actually going to meet our lovely S pretty soon. For the record, I'd like to predict that he'll look like his daddy (in the face, J, in the face), he'll be a pretty laid-back boy, and he'll idolize his big brother (who will LOVE him). Any other predictions from the peanut stands?

New Life. Wow.

The Olson's had a great Easter -- early, early morning; subdued and joyful service celebrating Christ's resurrection; delicious church breakfast; FUN Easter egg hunt (see below); more good eating (smoked ham with orange-honey glaze, sour cream mashed potatoes, green bean bake, Jello, strawberries and bananas, deviled eggs, choco-chip cookies courtesy of Gma E and P!), naps almost all around. Then we--well, J--moved on to the next big project; moving furniture and tearing up flooring in preparation for Monday's carpet install. From Jesus triumphing over death to 80s-era marblized carpet kissing the dust. Fun!

So P completed his official first Easter egg hunt (last year he wasn't quite old enough or conscientious enough to participate) and he LOVED it. Gpa E and J hid the plastic eggs around the living room and dining room while we drove to get some milk. P didn't even want to take off his coat when he walked into the house; he went right for the eggs and put them in his basket in the middle of the room. After a few deliveries to the basket he spontaneously adopted a kind of half chicken walk, half scoot (we'll just call it his hunting pose): arms behind his back, hands flpped up, his torso bent, feet shuffling, neck stuck out. He thought he was something, and so did we. Now Daddy will adopt the hunting pose and P will get a big grin on his face and copy him.

One last P thought, related but unrelated to Easter: P found our copy of A Child is Born early this week, and we looked at it for a few minutes before he lost interest. [Quick ad here: This is an amazing, amazing book--awesome photography that leaves no doubt that babies are people from their first moments.] Anyway, then P found the book again a day or so ago and wanted to "read" it. He sat on my lap (what's left of it) and we looked at pictures of babies in utero, and I'd say, "P, this is what baby S looks like." P looked very carefully and turned pages, and we got to the end, and I said, "Pretty soon you'll get to see baby S like this baby [pointing at the book]." He watched very carefully, and after a moment of quiet, he said, "Wooooooooooooow." It was perfect--unprompted and so appropriate. We couldn't say it better ourselves. So here's to new life, Easter, meeting babies face to face.