megan's blog

Thursday, March 17, 2016

Joel Eddie McDonald: The Name and the Birth

I had a baby which means I return to my blog. I thought I would share the origins of the name we chose and also share the birth story. I promise to make a very clear transition so that no one reads the birth story that does not want to. Joel Eddie McDonald When Brandon and I name our babies we like to chose names that are classic. We do not consider ourselves creative enough to put sounds together in unique ways. We like to stick with sound combos that people have heard before. The girls were both named for family and friends that mean a lot to us and also happen to be names we love. I have always loved the name Joel. I did not know a lot of Joels growing up, but I have never met a Joel that has ruined the name for me. (There may or may not be a certain Joel that writes books and preaches on TV that has definitely pushed the envelope, but I cant let him ruin it for me). The Joels I know tend to be laid back, intelligent, and kind. I would love for my son to be these things. Another interesting fact about the Joels I know is that 3 of the 5 that I can think of married women named Kelly. The Namesake, however, is my great grandfather Joel Graber. He was my Gramma Eva’s dad. I never met him, but I know his daughter and if he was half as great as her, I am sure he was amazing. When I told gramma that we chose this name, she was so honored. She loved her dad and now she has an excuse to say his name regularly. She prays for him daily and loves calling to ask about him. Eddie Thats right, Eddie. Not Edward. Papaw’s name is John Eddie. I think we have enough Johns in the family for now, and I love when Gramma refers to Papaw as “John Eddie.” She uses both names often, but I love it the most when he is being extra ornery and needs reprimanded. She rolls her eyes and sort of gasps like his behavior surprises her, and then he gets a sly smile on his face and giggles a little. I love it. I love my papaw very much and I love that when I talk about my son, or yell at him, or watch him do something official like graduate or get married, I will think of my ornery papaw. And now for the birth story. This is your cue to get out if you don't want the details. I mean it. Last chance….I went to work on Monday as scheduled. Towards the end of the pregnancy, I pretty much dreaded every work day. I went to sleep slightly hopeful that my water would break or I would go into labor and not have to go in the next morning, but it just kept not happening. I was just tired of people asking me when I was due or how I was feeling or why I had not had the baby yet. I don’t know why this pregnancy was so different, but I just wanted to be done. I didn't feel beautiful and glow-y like I did with the girls. I felt big, and sick and tired. I had more fear with this pregnancy too. I think a lot of that comes from working with a sicker population and seeing more risk than I was used to at the birth center. So anyway, it was Monday. I worked all day and then before I left work, I had my coworker check me. (A perk of my profession, I suppose). I had been having contractions for about 12 weeks so I did not really think twice about the ones I felt that day, but I did have a few that seemed stronger. I was pleased to hear that I was about 3 cm with a bulgy bag of water. Not a bad place to start considering it took me about 24 hours of contractions to get to 3 with Nora. When I got home, I noticed that I was having more and more contractions. They were more noticeable than usual, but I could ignore them still. After dinner we walked to the park. It was such a nice evening and it distracted the girls some. When we got home, we got the girls ready for bed and I sat on the birth ball and read to them between contractions. Turns out I can read a children's book in about 5-7 minutes. Mom came to stay the night. We stayed up for a little while and then I thought, Hmmm, I should go to bed. I tried to sleep for a few hours. I dosed between contractions for a little while, but by 1230 or so, I needed to sit up and do something else. I tried listening to the hypnobabies CD, but I really wanted to get into the tub instead. We called Lynda to let her know what was happening, but didn't feel like she needed to come yet. Finally around 130, Brandon’s midwife instincts told him to call in the professionals. Lynda and Amy came and started setting up. Lynda brought her “name tag” that Nora made for her, but poor Amy did not get a name tag since Nora “didn’t know she was coming.” :) I felt ok between contractions. I was able to talk and even throw in some wit here and there. It didn't take long though to get a little more serious. I got in and out of the tub a few times and each time seemed to bring stronger contractions. The tub was such a relief, but at some point, I just could not get comfortable. Lynda was very encouraging. She also kept saying things that I say to patients. Good news those things actually are encouraging. I will keep saying them. :) Around 0400, I went to the bathroom and felt very unsure of what to do. I tried to lay on the bed for a minute. Great idea, Megan. Of course my water broke…all over my bed. It felt so violent. The whole labor was intense, but the last 15 minutes were wild. I got back into the tub and felt like we were nearing the end. Again I was afraid. He felt so high up and I just did not know if I could bring him down. It was similar to the end of Graces birth, but this kid felt big. Luckily, this was baby number three. Three pushes later, I was holding a sweet little baby boy in my arms. I feel like I was the most present during this birth. Im still trying to decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Like the pregnancy, this birth was nothing like the others. It felt like it was all happening to me and I just had to give in to it. I did not feel control, but I did feel like I knew where he was and what was coming next. I remember thinking about pushing and thinking that I just did not want to do it. I knew if I gave a good push, he would be low and I did not want to feel that. Im glad that I decided to do it though (not that I had much choice). I can’t decide how I feel about Joel’s birth. I felt broken down and humbled by Nora. Grace made me feel strong and empowered. I think I feel accomplished and done! I am so grateful for my son. I wanted him so badly and although the pregnancy and birth were not necessarily enjoyable, I am glad that we walked through it. Now I just have to raise him….gulp.