After our first, Leslie, we struggled for years to become pregnant again and learned, among other things, that ultimately God is in charge of what your family looks like. Happily for us, He allowed us to eventually have Boston, and then Cooper and Macy in quick succession, when the time was right, apparently, for them to make their debut on earth.
After Macy was born and I felt sufficiently recovered to take a little time away, I visited the beautiful LDS temple in Draper. The temples are, among other things, ideal places to meditate, worship, and talk to God, and where God talks back since we are actually trying to listen. On this particular day at the temple, there without my new fourth baby, I was having a strange feeling. I was super baby hungry (which makes no sense at all). Also a little incomplete, for example, we'd gather up to get in the car somewhere and it would feel like we weren't all there, etc. I knew I wasn't ready to have another baby, so I was wondering about this.
As I recall, I had a sudden insight that I feel came from God. It was surprising to me. The thought was that I still had another baby waiting, AND that if Mark and I so chose, (that it was our choice was very clear) another baby after that (six total) who would be a blessing to our family.
Luke came along eventually and our concerns about his congenital heart defects really stretched us to our limits. He has been extremely blessed to have those taken care of surgically, and Worry about His Future no longer looms over our heads. He has been a very fun child with a lively personality and I could feel good about his potential status as a caboose, other than I felt a bit robbed of a "normal" infant experience to end my childbearing years with.
The nice thing was, although Mark and I both felt at this point that we probably did have another child coming, we also felt pretty mellow about when and for sure if that would happen. In other words, no stress. Last year as I thought about how I would fill my time after Luke goes to school, I was coming up blank. When I got called to be the Young Women's president in our ward (a pretty time-consuming job) in December, I thought, aha! This is what the Lord wants me to do with my life right now. I guess no baby. Maybe someday--I'm only 38.
Ten months later:
I had gone to my 36 week appointment on the Friday before and didn't let the doc check my dilation because that always gives me lots of contractions. Then on Tuesday I was grocery shopping, having a lot of contractions and just feeling heavy and not very mobile. The checker lady asked me if I was close (I was probably leaning heavily on the cart) and I when I nodded she clucked knowingly that she could tell. I just felt wiped out.
Later that evening I was sitting on the floor folding laundry and felt the baby kick so hard it felt like she was standing straight up and down. I remembered that Macy had done that the night before my water broke, but.....nothing. That evening Mark and I discussed the plan for if I went into labor while he was working his bimonthly shift at the temple, as he would be the next morning at 5 AM. We must've made her nervous because at 2AM I rolled over in bed and my water broke. I tapped Mark on the shoulder and said, "You have some impatient girls!" (Impatient because Macy had also broken my water, at 37 weeks.) He mumbled and went back to sleep while I giggled in elation at the whole thing. Once I made myself more clear we scrambled into his car and made it to the hospital before I was even contracting much. (So nice to have a teenager sleeping in my basement.) After I was hooked up with my epidural, etc., I delivered with a mere two pushes.
I like delivering babies. It's exciting.
Something I think I will always remember is that the doctor, who was an older gentleman, as we silently prepared for the contraction to come so that I could start pushing, positioned himself with his fingers on the baby's head and closed his eyes, reverent and concentrating. I'm almost sure he was praying. He looked like an angel to me, blessing my baby and bringing her safely into my arms.
|A rare smile. At six week point she pretty much only smiles for Mark.|
|Rosie and Grandma Frances|
|Rosie and Grandpa Day|
|This is kind of a weird face for her, but you can see her dimple chin.|
|Rosie at One Month|
Mom was able to come for a few days to help, leave for a week for her excellent Nauvoo trip with Darcy, and then come back for a week, which was especially nice for the help and for Luke, whose main adjustment has been dealing with boredom while I am napping or feeding Rosie.
PS. The bishop released me as YW president the night before Rosie came. Maybe that was her "all clear" signal.
Obviously, the kids are all crazy about the baby and we've joked a bit about her life as "Rosie in the Lion's Den." They are quick to want to hold her, carry her around, or look for her "biscuit"--what Luke remembered as the word for "binky".
She is gorgeous. As Dad would say, "She's a Dandy!"
So glad you joined our family Rosie Posie!