An Amazing Father

On the day that Judah was born I probably wept, not just teared up, more than any other day in my life. First, as most of you know, Judah's presence revealed the favor of God in resealing the amniotic sac after it ruptured at 14 weeks - nearly unheard of. Twenty five weeks of fear later, Judah was in our arms. My shoulders shuddered in gratitude.

I had just hung up the phone with Doug, the third in my family I called after Judah's 4am birth. And I was done. I needn't call 303-xxx-5000, Devon's number before she died after fighting breast cancer. I go more than days thinking about her and often think I'm cold hearted, but at that moment when I couldn't share the birth of my son with her, her memory was right there. She is my sister and was a companion in faith who understood some things very profoundly, and the spiritual joys in my life was one of those. Her absence on the other end of an uninitiated call caught me off guard.

A moment or two later, Isobel's absence was felt, a realization Heather and I shared in the moment with words. We'd already had more time with Judah than with Isobel. I began shaking my head from side to side.

I don't recall when in the hours after Judah's nativity that the next wave hit, a simple one: I have an amazing wife. Heather, we've experienced the weight of glory and the crushing

void of loss, and though I walk imperfectly with you, the penultimate lagrimas arrived with the realization that we share more than progeny, but one union. Five years after "I will" Judah's arrival that slipped a bit more into my soul. Oh. Oh my.

Some twenty five weeks ago, in the hours following the ruptured membranes that were to keep Judah safe, I was pouring out my overwhelming fears to God: "How can I help carry Heather though the death of a second child? How can I tax the brothers and sisters of St. Matthias with one more grief in my life? How can I endure the moments when, once more, my child slips from me?" Into these imprecise cries the Lord whispered to me an impression: peace. Not in words, but in as much clarity, God urged me to own that he wouldn't allow, this time, a deadly outcome. In my arms was Judah, not a wish, not a hope, not a promise awaiting fulfillment, but the very substance of the Lord's word to me. Judah is more than the miraculous act of God, but the possession of the rich food that is God's faithfulness. Here I wept and ended my weeping.

Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good! Psalm 34.8

He is an Amazing Father.

What's In a Name?

Names are really important to me and Scott, and as a result it has sometimes been difficult to come to a consensus about what we should name our children. But each of our three children has been given a name that is significant to both of us.

Isobel means "consecrated to God." We chose that name before we knew that she was a girl, or that we would be allowed such a short time with her. We had chosen three possible middle names, and when we learned that she would likely not survive, we settled on Grace. We knew that we would need a lot of God's grace to survive what was to come.

We had chosen Caden's name when I was pregnant with Isobel as well. We had originally chosen the name Caedmon. Caedmon was a British poet who wrote praise poetry to the Lord. We eventually truncated it to Caden. When I was pregnant a second time, it seemed appropriate that if we were to have a little boy, he should be called Caden, because the name means "warrior." We were so frightened about the possibility of loss the second time around that it was good to think that we had a little warrior in there. We chose the middle name Isaac because Isaac was the son God promised to Abraham and Sarah when they thought there was no hope that they would ever experience the joy of having a child.

Judah's middle name, Kessler, is a name from Scott's family. Scott was very close to his maternal grandfather, and that was his middle name. The Kesslers were a family who took in Scott's great-grandmother when her stepfather was unkind to her, and so she honored them by naming her son after them. The name Judah was one I liked the sound of, and then when God rescued us and saved his life, it seemed particularly appropriate, because Judah means "Praise the Lord." We are so humbled by the gift of his life, and we are so thankful he is here and well, there is nothing really to say except, Praise the Lord!

It's a ...

BOY!

We are pleased to introduce

Judah Kessler Campbell

11/18/10

8 Pounds 14 Ounces

21 Inches

"The time has come," the walrus said ...

My mom and I have been getting a lot of phone calls and emails asking whether or not the baby is here yet.

Nope.

Not yet.

But very, very soon.

I had an OB appointment today, and things are definitely progressing in the right direction. I will either go into labor in the next couple of days, or I will be induced.

So many people are saying to me, "Oh, I bet you're ready to have this baby." Or, "I'm sure you're sick of being pregnant." And while my back hurts like nobody's business and is screaming at me right now, urging me to say, "Yes! Let's have this baby," the truth is that I am really enjoying just being pregnant. No emergencies. No fear of preterm delivery. No restrictions. Just normal. Sure, I'm uncomfortable and tired, but that's because yesterday I did the grocery shopping.

Let me repeat that. Yesterday I did the grocery shopping. 

When my membranes ruptured on June 1, I didn't expect to be able to do anything throughout the rest of this pregnancy. I thought I'd have the cerclage removed, get taken off of bedrest, and I'd have the baby. I didn't expect this little reprieve that I have gotten. As a result, something like grocery shopping that seemed like a chore six months ago, made me feel like a real human being again.

I am anxious to meet this little darling, and I'm not at all sorry it will be happening in the next four days, but I feel like this time I've had has been a blessing.

I mean, goodness gracious, five months ago we were just trying to make it to 24 weeks -- that was our goal. But on Thursday I will be 39 weeks pregnant. That's almost nine months. What a miracle! I never expected this. I never expected to be this pregnant in my life. I am so thankful.

And I will be so thankful to meet my baby this week.

The snow is here!

When I was pregnant with Isobel, I was due in February, and I was terrified that I would go into labor in the middle of a blizzard. Everyone to whom I confessed this fear was very encouraging. Two across-the-street neighbors, both experienced mothers and homebirth proponents, told me that if worse came to worst, they could help me deliver the baby. Scott just rolled his eyes at me and told me that he could get us through any kind of weather to the hospital just fine. And one of the teenagers I worked with at the time told me that the hospital could send a helicopter for me. When I asked where the helicopter was supposed to land in the Glen, she shrugged and said, "Oh, you can just shimmy up the rope ladder -- no problem." (SB, you know who you are!)

Despite these fears, as you know, Isobel was born in October. And though on that day it seemed as if the weather should be grim and drear, when we left the hospital without her, the sun was shining.

Caden was due in October, but born in September, and again, the weather was fantastic. No blizzards, no slippery roads, no whiteout conditions. Just lovely sunshine.

With this little one, I have been anxiously watching weather.com for the forecast for the last thirty days. And each time I saw that the temperature was not supposed to dip below 55 or so, I would breathe a sigh of relief.

But it seems as though my luck has run out.

The snow has come.

Don't get me wrong, I love the snow. Or, actually, I love being inside with a warm blanket, a cup of tea, and a book while it snows outside. But really, I don't mind it when it's cold. And to be completely honest, I'm no longer too worried about the possibility of delivering a baby at home during a blizzard. Do I want that to happen? No. Is it likely to happen? No. And I've spoken to the nurse practitioner at my OB's office about the ramifications for the baby due to my GBS if that were to happen. The answer is that, while it wouldn't be ideal, there's no guarantee that the baby would be infected. I would just need to tell the paramedics right away.

So, why am I so concerned about the weather then? Well, it's a very shallow reason, but it's my reason nonetheless.

I don't have appropriate clothing for the weather.

I have never been hugely pregnant when the weather has been cold, so I have very few warm maternity clothes. And when we learned that we shouldn't have any more biological children, I made the choice not to purchase any more maternity clothes. It just seemed silly to invest in something when I would only wear it for a few months. Also, since I was on bedrest, why bother? Who would see it anyway? Plus, with the weather being as nice as it has been, I didn't think I needed to buy any winter clothes.

But here I am, almost 38 weeks pregnant (!), with very little left to wear. And with my swollen feet, the only shoes that will fit are flip flops or my ever-so-attractive Crocs. I bought one more long-sleeved t-shirt yesterday, and I will likely wear it every day until delivery so I get my money's worth out of it. (Don't worry, I'll wash it in between.)

You all must have been praying really hard, because I'm still pregnant. It's absolutely incredible, and I am so thankful for every day I get to experience as a "normal" pregnant woman. I took Caden to the pediatrician on Monday, and I felt like a real mom again. My strength has been building up reasonably quickly so I can now wash an entire sink full of dishes without getting shaky. (Ahh ... the simple pleasures.) I've been loving this time with Caden. We've gone to the library for storytime and to the playground. And it's been great.

But now that the snow is here, I'm ready for this baby to come. I'm anxious to meet him/her and learn what his/her name is. I'm looking forward to the challenge of parenting two little ones. I'm looking forward to moving forward.

I'm ready. Bring it on.

I Was Wrong

Okay, so I have to confess ... I was wrong.

About a lot of things.

Despite the fact that one of my doctors kept reminding us that, "We've changed your physiology yet again -- you can't expect things to be the same as they were last time, we expected this baby to arrive with the same timing as Caden. When my cerclage came out on Monday and I was released from bedrest, we thought I'd go into labor right away.

Um ... no. It's almost a week later, and I'm still pregnant. In fact, I'm 37 weeks, which is considered full-term. Wow. This will be my only child who was not a preemie.

We thought that this baby was measuring so big that there was no way the doctors would let us go past next Friday -- that I would be induced very soon.

Um ... no. In fact, it appears as though this baby's apparently prodigious growth has slowed down a little bit. At our last growth ultrasound, the baby was measuring just sightly above average. As a result, I doubt I will be induced.

I thought that I'd be able to come off of five months of bedrest and just resume my old life with no difficulty.

Um ... no. On my second day after being released from bedrest, my mom and I went to Target to buy some California Baby soap and lotion for the new baby. We walked in, went directly to the baby soap, looked briefly at the maternity clothes, bought Caden a new tractor shirt (he had outgrown his old one), and checked out. That's all. And I was completely exhausted by that thirty minute outing.

While I've been loving having no doctor-imposed restrictions, I've been very frustrated by my physical limitations. I really would like to walk Caden to the playground just down the street from our house, but there's a (very) slight hill, and honestly I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to make it back up the hill. I'm in that bad of physical condition. (Also, any of you who are friends with Scott on Facebook might have read that he saw a mountain lion just down the road from the playground. I'm a little bit afraid that Caden would look like a delicious appetizer and I would look like a very slowly-moving main course, so I've been hesitant to venture down there on my own.) Readjusting my idea of what my life should look like now has been a struggle for me. I want to be able to do everything, but even standing long enough to wash the dishes leaves me tired and shaking.

I've had to reconsider a lot of my old assumptions with this portion of the pregnancy. I have never been pregnant this long, and I have no idea how much longer I will be pregnant. I've become one of those stories that all bedrest mamas hear about: A woman was on bedrest for umpteen weeks, while the doctors desperately tried to keep her pregnant for as long as possible, and when she was released from bedrest, she didn't go into labor.

We have no doubt that my body doesn't want to work the way it should -- I require medical intervention to stay pregnant long enough to have a healthy baby. That is not in doubt. So, for me to have stayed pregnant so long is a bit of a surprise. We do have some physiological explanations for this -- the development of scar tissue is one possibility. But I think I know the real reason.

God is cool.

I hope to have a baby very soon, but if I don't I'll just try to take each day at a time and appreciate the miracle this pregnancy has been.

Uncharted Territory

Today I am 36 weeks and 5 days pregnant.

This is officially the longest I have ever been pregnant.

When I was pregnant with Caden, the doctor removed my cerclage and then warned me that I was unlikely to go into labor right away. (Statistically, only 11% of women who have had a cerclage go into labor within the first 48 hours of having a cerclage removed.) Our doctor thought that I might need to be induced in a couple of weeks because he was measuring big. Lo and behold, 15 hours later I was having regular, painful contractions. Less than 48 hours after my cerclage was removed, Caden was in my arms.

When my doctor removed my cerclage yesterday, she again warned me that it was unlikely that I would go into labor right away. And this time, it appears to be true. Scott and I thought it would probably happen pretty quickly, because I was having painful contractions on the way to the hospital. But since then, these contractions have slowed down considerably and show no signs of becoming regular yet.

Don't get me wrong, it is very clear to us that I needed a cerclage in order to stay pregnant as long as I have. As soon as it was removed, I instantly dilated. But I guess my body has decided this whole being pregnant thing is okay after all.

I don't know what to expect anymore. Before we left for the hospital, Scott picked up the house, we packed a bag for the hospital, we packed a bag for Caden and sent it with my mom to her house, my mom took the dogs ... we were all ready for an imminent delivery. But now that it appears this baby is going to wait a little while, I'm not sure what to do next .... Sure, I still have a ton of stuff on my to-do list that needs to be addressed, but I was kind of in the mindset that it would have to wait until the baby came.

I'm not complaining by any means. This little respite has already been fantastic. Yesterday, I was able to pick up Caden for the first time in months. He laughed and asked me, "What doin', Mommy?"

As far as I'm concerned, I will do my best to enjoy the days (or weeks?) I have left before this baby comes. I'll take my son to the park. I'll organize my house. And I'll go on walks. And I'll just enjoy the sensation of being a (relatively) normal pregnant woman for as long as it lasts.