The Wood Between the Worlds

Oliver Silas Jefferies
August 17, 2010
8 days old

Oliver:
Olive tree.  The Olive tree signifies beauty and fruitfulness and dignity.  The Olive branch is the symbol of peace.  We chose Oliver for many reasons.
1) My great grandmother's name was Olive, so it was kind of a family tie
2) We need a peacemaker.
3)  Every forest I went to this summer I heard a lovely bird call.  It was the call of the swainson's thrush.        I LOVE this bird call.  It is very nostalgic to me.  I heard it for three summers as I perched atop       
      a zipline platform high in the trees.  The bird's call would echo through Dobie's Dell at the most
      beautiful place on the earth.  Brighton, Utah.  Click here to listen to the Swainson's Thrush.   

      I suggested Swainson as a middle name, and Brent didn't like it.  He asked me if the bird had
      another name.  I told him the other name is the Olive-backed thrush.  Brent said 'why don't we
      name the baby Oliver?'
 


Once again, my fabulous friend Tara gifted us with this photo shoot.  This is my favorite one yet!  (One of these days soon we're going to actually pay her to do our family pictures!) 

Long birth post!  Read at your own discretion.

Wednesday July 28th (37 weeks):
Brent and I spent a lovely morning at the Portland LDS Temple.  I was counting how many contractions I had within 1 hour.  I counted 10.  It felt like early labor.  When I got up they persisted.  We went to pick up Toby and Joshua.  Contractions persisted.  We drove to my midwife appointment.  We went grocery shopping at Winco.  Contractions persisted at the birth center and all around the store.  I was started to feel excited.  When we got home I started to feel nervous.  I was NOT emotionally ready for the baby to come yet.  And I still had more stuff I wanted to get done before he came.  I had not made up my mind yet if I was going to have the baby at home or at the birth center.  Would it feel weird having this baby in the same place where Elsa was born?  On the other hand, would I be able to make arrangements for my kids and still get to the birth center on time?  I had decided to prepare all the necessary supplies for a home birth, but not make my decision until I was in labor.  Too much going on in my brain.  Labor stopped.

(picture by Toby)


Wednesday August 4th (38 weeks):
After a week of on and off contractions, I woke up very early in the AM with the urgent need to void my bladder.  Normally I am such a sound sleeper that the need to urinate does not wake me up until about 5 or 6 am, even at this late stage of pregnancy.  When I rolled over to get out of bed, I suddenly realized that I could NOT get up.  I was having a contraction.  A VERY hard contraction (that extra squeeze on my bladder is what woke me up).  After having gone back to sleep, hard contractions woke me up every 2 hours for the rest of the night.  In the morning, I lost my mucous plug.  I panicked!  I was still not feeling ready for this baby.  After I got up, my contractions stopped.

Thursday August 5th:
I had an appointment for a prenatal massage.  I was hoping that this would loosen me up and help me to feel more relaxed about labor.  I realized the obvious as I was driving to the appointment:  I HAD to be ready.  Now.  There is only one way for the baby to come out and the longer I waited, the bigger he would be!  I decided to completely let go of the anxiety and fear.  When I talked with the massage therapist briefly about my situation, she let me know that the baby can sense my anxiety and he won't come until he is wanted.  I do believe that there is a connection between the mother and the baby in that way.  I had my massage, which was very relaxing.  Then on my way home I decided to allow the current nameless baby to be the ONLY baby I thought about.  Sorry Elsa, but you had to go to the back of my mind.  Sorry future baby(ies)...you are NOT now.  I centered my thoughts in the present.  I formed a stronger connection with baby.  I was ready for him to come.

Friday/Saturday/Sunday:
Brent had these days off.  I was now READY!  I was wanting baby to come on one of Brent's days off.  Because of the nature of his work, it is usually complicated for him to leave in the middle of the day.  Things would be much easier if I went into labor on a day off!  Of course, now that I was ready...the contractions pretty much stopped.  Grrr...  By the time Sunday night came around, I had given up on making it happen and went back to a neutral attitude.

Monday August 9th (38 weeks, 5 days):
I spent the entire night/morning waking up to powerful contractions every two hours, as I had become accustomed to during the past week.  I was fairly certain that when I got out of bed they would disappear as they had done all those other days.  I lay reading in bed extra long that morning, which kept the contractions coming every 5 minutes or so.  I jumped out of bed about 15 minutes before Joshua's piano lesson at 10:00 am.  I decided to play it safe and cancel my noon chiropractor appointment for that day since the chiro was located 45 minutes away.  I scurried around to get everyone ready and in the car.  Sure enough the contractions died down, but they did NOT stop.  I still did not know when to believe that active labor was starting.  I didn't want to jump the gun and call Brent home from work, and call my midwives away from their appointments for the day...only to have it be a false alarm!  But I knew because of how hard the contractions had been that once active labor set in, it would be QUICK!...

So I took Joshua to piano, and set about my tasks for the day.  First up on the agenda was to drive down to the library to pick up some books on hold.  Toby and I drove down to the library only to find it closed.  Joshua's piano lesson is only 30 minutes, so I did not have time for another errand before picking him up...but it was still too early to pick him up.  So I allowed Toby some time to play on the old-school huge metal slide and swings outside of the library.  The time that had elapsed between dropping Joshua off and arriving at the closed library was about 10-15 minutes.  The contractions were definitely NOT going away, and in fact I thought they were getting stronger.  I stood at the playground watching Toby...breathing through POWERFUL contractions every 2-3 minutes.  In comparison to my other births, these contractions felt like the ones right before I hit transition (transition is defined as last part of labor before you feel the urge to push.  It is usually the most intense part of labor).  Things were getting serious fast!  I decided at this point that a home birth would be my only option...and I had better get Brent and the midwives to my house.  I called them first and then pleaded with Toby to leave the playground...

As I drove up the hill back to our neighborhood, I did not know how I was still able to drive.  It was a good thing I was the only person on the road because I could not concentrate.  I was only going 10-15 miles per hour so that my reaction time didn't need to be so quick.  We got to Joshua's piano teacher's house and waited.  Sometimes his piano teacher keeps him 10-15 minutes longer than the lesson time.  Normally I don't mind.  Right now it was (!).  He finally came out and we made it home at about the same time that Brent arrived home from work.  (Thankfully on Mondays Brent is not the only professional of his kind, so he could leave work without delay).  At some point (I don't remember exactly when) I called my friend Tara to come pick up my kids.  I set Brent straight to work inflating and filling the birth tub.  I managed to change my sheets on my bed and tidy up my room and my kitchen between contractions.  When Tara arrived she thought I was alone (!), and offered to stay until the midwives got there.  Haha!  Thankfully Brent was there.  But I was starting to feel desperate for the midwives to get there!!

Tara took my kids to another friend's house and came back to take some pictures for me.  My midwives were still not there!  And in the confusion of the morning, I had neglected to eat anything.  I was starting to feel shaky and was needing some nutritional reinforcement...but I was hitting transition and could not stomach any solids.  Tara made me some orange juice.  Between contractions I was still getting the space ready for the birth.  When a contraction hit, it became SO intense VERY quickly.  The most comfortable position I could get in quickly was standing by my bedroom window, leaning forward onto the body pillow on my dresser.
  It was a beautiful and peaceful position to be in.  Just outside my bedroom window is our wooded backyard.  At this time of the day, the sun was shining through the leaves and lighting everything up with a warm green glow.  Ah!  The Wood Between the Worlds.  During labor, I was too focused on working with my primitive brain...my conscious mind barely hanging on by a thread, to realize the significance.  I only felt peace.  After the birth I remembered the heavenly, ethereal, spiritual connection that I feel to the warm glow of light shining through leaves.  I felt that Elsa and others in the spirit world must have been there watching over us.

I got up after a contraction and remembered that I needed one last picture of me pregnant :
 
As I waited for the placenta to come, I was keenly aware of everything.  More so than I have been with any of my other babies.  I was so awake and alert and the sunlight was so bright shining through our bathroom window that I could take in every detail.  I studied his umbilical cord and noted that it was white and smooth and coiled...AND there were no hematomas.   Everyone in the room was emotional that he was good and alive!

Overall, this birth was my quickest birth...but not my easiest.  The quicker the birth, the more intense!  But at least when it is THAT intense, you realize that it will be over FAST.  The part I love is feeling back to normal so quickly after giving birth.

My two midwives and the apprentice did the newborn exam right there on my bed as I rested.
 

I just have to write an addendum to the last post.  I have to let you know that I have been attached to Ollie's little ultrasound picture ever since I found out he was a boy.

Yep.  I was smitten.  And I think that after the first few days of shock after finding out that I was having a boy (because at the beginning of the pregnancy it was sometimes hard for me to remember that this was a new, different pregnancy!), I would've been disappointed if it was a mistake and I was really having a girl.  I had a feeling during my whole pregnancy with Elsa that I was having another little boy next...so in reality, I knew he was coming.  I just always thought that number 3 would be a girl and number 4 a boy...and then I have to stop myself again and realize that #3 IS a girl and #4 IS a boy.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, it is all SO complicated, so please don't judge.  It might've been best for me to keep it to myself.  I think that I would have been inclined to judge someone before I had this experience.  But hopefully, because of my honesty someone out there will feel less alone in their trial.    

As I started to write the story of Ollie's grand entrance, I realized that I have enough backlog from the pregnancy that it warranted a blog entry of its own. 

There is a lot I could say about this pregnancy.  I kept my feelings quite private.  I'm not sure if this was because I had a difficult time feeling attached to this baby, or if my grief for Elsa and my grief for missing out on having a daughter was overriding my joy.  I feel the need to share now.  For one thing...easier to share now that it's over.  But also, I can't even begin to say how much I was helped by reading blogs of other mamas who had been through similar experiences.  We all do things a little differently, but there are always similarities...and tidbits which inspire.  I hope that I can help others in some small ways... 

I can say one positive thing about this pregnancy: it went by VERY quickly.  Even for me, the pregnant one.  I consider this a tender mercy.  It was a quick, mild, not very rainy winter.  And that helped keep away depression.  It has also been a nice, not very hot summer.  I had a profound experience when another angel mama lost her third baby boy.  The first two were twins, the next subsequent pregnancy and third boy unexpectedly lost again.  As my heart ached for her, I felt SO blessed to have my three boys alive.  The ache for Elsa and a daughter were still there, but were not allowed so much prominence in my mind and heart.   

I had A LOT of contractions during the second half of the pregnancy, starting at about 24 weeks.    Pre-Elsa, I would not have been worried, but considering I had a completely unexpected outcome with her, I was not taking anything for granted.  I was not completely paranoid during my whole pregnancy, but when potential problems came about I was very quick to act on them.  Once I got to the point in my pregnancy where I could feel the baby move on a regular basis, my worries abated quite a bit.  There was one point at about 27 weeks where I could not make the baby move by poking him.  That lasted for 5 or 10 minutes.  It was a panicky experience, since that is what happened the day before Elsa died.  So at my midwife appointment the next day, my midwife loaned me a fetalscope:
  It was very difficult to find the baby's heartbeat with this piece of equipment.  At first I wondered if it would cause more worry then it would help.  But after much persistence, and trial and error, I became fairly proficient at using a fetalscope.  The tricks are 1) it must be SILENT to hear the baby's heartbeat.  No kids making noise in the next room, no piano playing over yonder, no white noise of the fan.  2) you MUST know the position of the baby, and place the scope right on his back over his heart.

A couple of appointments later, my other midwife told me it was no small feat to find a baby's heartbeat with a fetalscope...and it was even more difficult to find your own baby's heartbeat with a fetalscope.  She asked me if I wanted a doppler instead.  So I took home one like this:
  And I suppose a doppler would be better in an emergency (real or perceived).  For one thing, I would be able to call my midwife and have her listen to the baby over the telephone.  But thankfully, I never ended up *needing* it!  I did listen to baby a few times for fun. 

One doctor I consulted with at the beginning of my pregnancy (who told me I was still low risk and could birth anywhere I wanted), told me that I should have fetal non-stress tests a couple of time per week starting a few weeks before I lost Elsa.  I ended up choosing not to do that.  I did not even have an ultrasound in my third trimester, which I really thought I would do.  It did not seem like the non-stress test would catch the problem that I had with Elsa (a broken vein in the umbilical cord), since it happened so quickly.  And the chances of it happening again were so minuscule.  I probably would've opted for a third trimester ultrasound if we weren't paying for it all out of pocket.  But I felt calm and peace about everything, and an assurance that nothing would go wrong.  There was no pressing feeling toward an ultrasound.  My midwife and I discussed the possible outcomes of said potential ultrasound.  What would I do if I found the cord wrapped anywhere, for example?  Would I go out and have a cesarean section for a wrapped cord, when 1/3 of all babies are born healthy with the cord wrapped somewhere?  Most likely, I would have chosen to monitor the baby's heartbeat carefully during contractions to make sure it was staying in the normal range...and transferred to a hospital for an emergency c-section if it was dipping dangerously low.  But his heartbeat was always good and normal.  And on top of that, my sweet little baby was considerate enough to move for me right before and after each contraction (pre-labor).  Just a little squirm was about all I needed to know that he was perfectly fine.  Fear abated.  Comfort and peace abounded.

What else can I say about this pregnancy?  Understandably, I had emotional issues.  I did go to a therapist at LDS Family Services for a few months right in the middle of the pregnancy.  But it only took me a few sessions to remember why I chose not to see a therapist in the beginning (right after Elsa died).  The only reason for my sadness was because I lost my daughter.  And the only immediate thing that would help me was my daughter being alive again, and a therapist can't help me with that...so...  Well, the validation from a therapist was nice.  She let me know just how traumatic and uncommon of an experience this was, and how it was completely normal to feel every single emotion that I was feeling (regardless of what my spiritual beliefs about resurrection and compensation are {I felt that I should and would be immediately compensated for Elsa's loss by having another daughter}).  Candid and true.  I ended up coping with the idea that I'm not having a daughter (YET!) by listening to this conference address by [the LDS church 2nd counselor] President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, about patience (over and over...some days I listened to it 3 times in a row).  Of course you MUST watch or listen to this talk about patience to get the full experience (so lovely).  At the beginning and middle of the pregnancy, I did not think that my emotional issues would get in the way of this pregnancy or birth at all.  But in the end I do think that they prolonged my pregnancy for a week or two while I worked through them and let some stuff go.  I'll write about that more in the birth story.

I just have to say that it was ALL worth it.  All of the emotional swings, all of the heaviness and lack of mobility, all of the hugeness.    For two years in a row I was pregnant.  I did not exercise like normal.  I was more out of shape, heavier, slower, larger and in more discomfort because of it.   It was ALL worth it for this little guy:
   Because he is very important.  He MUST be.  And he is very sweet and very mild.  He is a good, good baby.  And I love him more than I ever could have imagined.  I am enjoying him so, SO much.  I am totally in new baby la-la land.  Even just this evening I kissed his soft stomach and chest while I was changing his diaper and shed a tear of joy over the realization that he is ALIVE!

Fresh picked, and then frozen Oregon blueberries.  Made into a delicious smoothie.

anyone???


Amazingly enough, we still had plenty for everyone to have a decent portion...kind of a miracle.

...or today, as it is well past midnight.

Marks the one year of one of the most spiritual days of my life.  Tear.
I have many thoughts that have gone through my head and my heart over the last week...marking each moment with precision recall.  The day I had my last midwife appointment and everything was fine.  The day that I think she died.  The day where I felt paranoid that I couldn't feel her move, but thought I was over reacting.  The day she was born.  BOOM.  The day my life shifted and changed forever.  The day I held her forever.  The day I took her to the mortuary and left her with a complete stranger.  The day we drove to Utah.  The day of her funeral.  The day of her burial.  The day I had to try to move on.  The week in which I felt more physical and spiritual blessings and tender mercies than I have ever felt in my life.

My sweet girl.
Waiting in perfection.
Sealed in a time capsule.
Her spirit is ageless.
Her body is still newly born.
Her family is one year older.
May I ever live my life to be worthy of her.
May the time come quickly in which I get to hold her again.
And kiss her head.  Nuzzle her baby neck and cheeks.
Elsa.

Today I watched this amazing movie clip.  And it has lifted me.  Brought me peace and comfort.  And the tears have not stopped.

In commemoration of Elsa's first birthday, please feel lifted by this message:

I know I'm crazy.  It's past midnight and everyone's in bed.  The baby is sleeping (on my lap, I might add).  I should be sleeping.  But I just don't get the chance to blog anymore.  We've been too busy enjoying our summer.  I've been too busy enjoying my family.  And especially my baby.  Loving. him. up.  All good things.  Very good things...except when it comes to blogging and bedtime.

Well, here is a post with more pictures of Ollie and some of his firsts.

Ollie's first car ride:



The day after Oliver was born, there was a farewell party planned for our friends the Fox family.  They moved away :-( on Thursday.  Katie was really hoping that I would have my baby before they left so she could meet him before she moved.  It was a close call...but I had him in enough time to manage making it to their farewell party!  So we packed him up and headed to a potluck at the park with all of our wonderful friends.  It was the perfect night.  It was so unseasonably cool (ah, lovely 60's) for August that I had my little guy all bundled up.  He LOVES the car seat.  He could just go on and on sleeping in there!  Oh, and as for me...I managed to walk the whole 10 yards from the car to a cushy chair to enjoy a delicious, proteinacious potluck dinner the day after giving birth. 




Pictures of Ollie 2 days old:
On this day, we all took Ollie in to the birth center for his newborn exam and pku test.  His weight at the exam was 8 pounds, 8 ounces...hmm, quite a drop.  His cheeks are shrinking by the hour and he's starting to look just like Brent did in the one or two baby pictures that I've seen of him.  I LOVE the way that Ollie squints into the light, and the way he sits still just observing everything for 20 minutes at a time.  I love the way he stares into my face or off in the distance...which makes me wonder if he can see Elsa.

Pictures before cord falls off:  
First time in crib:
 He LOVES to lay in his crib and stare at the owl and tree that I appliquéd onto his crib blanket.  

First time playing with big bro:
  Words can't even begin to describe how awesome Ollie has been for Joshua and Toby...but especially Toby.  Toby loves to hold Ollie and help me with EVERYTHING!  He is so thrilled to have a baby that gets to stay with us.

First bath:
 Big brothers SO excited to help out with the bath!  By the way, this awesome contraption is called a puj tub.  It TOTALLY rocks the infant bathing world!  It is a flat foam sheet that folds up and fits into your small bathroom sink...it's just the perfect size, and so comfy and supportive for the baby.  
I was not paid to say that.  I just love awesome and innovative products!
Ollie loved his bath...

...but he couldn't wait to get back into clothes afterward.  Hopefully he'll grow to love his monkey towel, like my other boys love their animal towels.  Joshua has a lion and Toby has a frog.













Honestly...I'm in heaven.  I feel like I'm a first time mama all over again, except that I know what I'm doing with the hard stuff like breastfeeding.  I cannot express how joyful this baby is.  I had NO idea how wonderful it would be to have him here.  It's been one heck of a LONG year getting him here...and it just did not hit me how amazing this all is until the moment he was born, and I saw that he was ALIVE!  I feel so lucky and blessed.

Hopefully I'll get to post about his birth soon!  A lot of people have been asking for details...