It’s surreal to be writing this. I started this blog
to heal, to remember and to satisfy curiosity so I wouldn’t have to tell the
same story of sadness, pain and hope over and over again. And now this post,
this post, only contains joy, fullness, and hope affirmed over and over again.
Crazy. But our Heavenly Daddy’s plan is crazy. And full of wonder and awe.
Dorothy Ruth Holt arrived April 29, 2015 weighing 7
pounds 2 ounces and stretching 20.75 inches. It was 12:52 pm. Our doctor said
she’d arrive during his lunch break and he was right. We induced a little after
39 weeks at his recommendation.
She arrived healthy. I wept. I had a smile on my
face while I wept but the tears leaked out all the same. Labor was great – only
35 minutes of pushing – thanks to the inducement and the epidural and our
doctor’s experience and expertise. I thought of Gabriel so much during the
hours beforehand. Last time, we didn’t monitor Gabe’s heartbeat audibly because
no one wanted me to hear at what point it stopped during his delivery. This
time we heard and tracked Dorothy’s heartbeat. A couple times during the
inducement, her heart rate dropped, and the nurse put me on oxygen. I
concentrated on breathing and staying calm, and I had Kevin monitor the monitor
– ha – the actual radar thing that showed the number of beats per minute her
tiny heart was making. At one point, very close to the actual labor part, her
heart rate plummeted and I hit the emergency nurse call button. I began shaking
uncontrollably – very appropriate since I had no control over anything. We
never have control over anything. We just have the illusion of control brought
on by our worldly assumptions, the can-do attitude our loved ones instill us
with, and the self-sustaining mentality we possess as the species at the top of
the food chain. It’s not our fault; it’s how we’re wired. We just have to be aware of it and give credit
– control – where it’s due. (Hint: it’s not us.)
She was fine. Healthy babies always take a dive in
heart rate right before the actual pushing begins. My friend, Christian, had
told me that and my brain knew it but my fearful heart couldn’t stop my
one-person earthquake. I was holding the side railing of the hospital bed to
try to steady myself. I had to be on my side because the epidural was causing
more numbness in one side than the other side so they wanted to even things
out. And somehow the side position also got more oxygen to little girl and
therefore regulated her heartbeat better. I have no idea. Again, I was the lab
rat, everyone else was the expert. Kevin was the rock of strength, love and
support – as always.
So she arrived. Dorothy Ruth Holt. Kevin cut the
cord. She came out “clean” and our doctor said he couldn’t do his normal joke:
“She must be a Packers fan because of all that cheese.” (This reveals a HUGE
clue as to our doctor’s identity because he is a HUGE Green Bay Packers fan.)
She is named Dorothy for Kevin’s grandmother, who
will be 99 in July. As you know, she is sharp as a tack. After Christmas dinner
this year, Kevin gave her a picture frame when all the Holts and Bonus Sister’s
family were gathered together. The frame read:
A
Tale of Two Dorothy Holts
May our baby girl have your generous
heart, contagious optimism and enthusiasm for life. We honor you. Pray she
grows into a woman who is like you in every way! We love you! Love, Kevin &
Lee * Christmas 2014
We captured it on video. Grandmum cried.
It was so sweet. We can’t wait for them to meet in person!
At a shower in New Jersey, Bonus Sister
told me the origin of the name Dorothy. It’s Greek and means “gift from God.”
Appropriate. God has such a sense of humor and purpose. She is a gift from our
Heavenly Daddy. So was Gabriel. It’s in Psalm 139 which is SO APPLICABLE TO OUR
DAILY LIVES I CAN’T HELP BUT USE COMPUTER YELLING TO SAY IT. Sorry. Not sorry. Look
it up. Hug it. Love it. Dorothy does not and will not and cannot replace
Gabriel. She is unique. He is unique. We will see them both in heaven for all
eternity. Thank you Heavenly Daddy for that promise.
Her middle name is Ruth. It’s more Biblical than
family related. Ruth was a woman of extreme loyalty and conviction and strength
– all traits we pray our sweet girl possesses. There’s so much I could say
about the hospital stay, the beautiful insanity of breastfeeding, the depth of
love you find in a newborn’s eyes. And more. And more. Instead I will say that
God worked on my pride in a big way those first two weeks.
She wouldn’t
latch. Every seven or so hours we’d have a new nurse offer the ONLY way to be
successful and it wouldn’t work. Shift change: miracle promised. No dice. Shift
change. Definitely do this. Definitely do NOT do that exact same thing. Just
quit. Here’s some free stuff. Just quit. Never quit. Quitting is the same thing
as giving your child obesity, cancer and allergies all at once. But first
she’ll probably dehydrate and you’ll have to put her back in the hospital.
What? Um, the real miracle is that my blood pressure didn’t go up with all the
well meaning helpers hovering. And then there was the one who didn’t speak
English clearly. She ended up being my favorite because you can say more
through quiet compassion than you can using words. She was the best. For real.
Shift change.
(Side note: I also missed Gabriel SO MUCH during
that post-delivery hospital stay. The physical pain reminded me of him so much
because that’s the same pain I experienced with him. This time I had a
beautiful, bright-eyed, alert, awe-inspiring little girl in my arms but – but –
the pain was what I knew of Gabe. And oh how I missed him. Oh, how I wondered
what his face would have looked like on earth. Would he have Dorothy’s lips? Or
eyes? Or size? I know his hair was a similar color because I have his lock of
love tucked safely away at home. But the rest I won’t know from this side of heaven. One day, I will.)
We made it home. My parents had stocked our home
with food, flowers, and every imaginable practical aid. My Bonus Mom had made
sure we got a pump – something I was sure I wouldn’t really need. “Wrong-o
round eyes” as my father used to always tell me. He also used to say, “You’re
entitled to your own ridiculous opinion.” Yep. I needed the pump. So grateful
Bonus Mom got it for us.
For the first two weeks, I pumped and fed her
through a syringe and a guard. Girl friends were – and continue to be – awesome
in their help, food, guidance, wisdom, compassion and love. There’s also a TN
breastfeeding hotline available 24/7 that I called three times. Those folks literally
saved me mere hours before some ignorant decisions on my part would have made
the journey so much harder to take. Pride, pride, pride – there it goes. My prayer
quickly changed from “I’d like X, Y and Z to happen” to “Whatever you want, Lord;
let it happen. Give me guidance. Give me guidance. Seriously, just tell me what
to do. Make it so clear because I’m toast without your direction.”
Mastitis. I had it for three days before I called my
doctor because the internet said wait for flu-like symptoms. Well, I’ve never
had the flu so I thought chills, night sweats and extreme exhaustion were a
normal part of having a newborn. Then day four, the body (I can no longer call
it my body, it’s just the body) turned against me and told me it was past time
to call the doctor. Mommy-to-be readers, call me with ANY questions. ANY
questions. Experience is the only way to, well, experience this and you can
avoid painful (I mean literally intensely painful) mistakes by asking
questions.
Breastfeeding can be sweet when it works. But it
takes time to work. Conversely, women who choose not to feed that way shouldn’t
be called quitters. They should be called “doers of what’s best for their baby”
either to reduce depression (baby blues) or be able to nourish their baby (low
supply) or whatever else unpredictable occurs. I was fortunate not to run into
those things (72 5 oz bags tumble around in our freezer), but I want any
formula mama out there to know that I’m not judging. No one but the mom can
decide what works for her baby. Nuff said.
Somehow another two weeks went by. Dorothy is a rock
star at being a baby. She sleeps 6-7 hours at night, nurses every 4 or so hours
during the day, doesn’t fuss, and is simply precious. She is a good baby. She
loves her Daddy. Kevin is the BEST father on the planet. He’s kept the house
together, me together, real estate together and still finds time to play the
piano for his new girl. He is smitten. He covers her in kisses. He is the best
swaddle-er. He is the best. We knew that but it’s so fun to see him with his
arms full of fresh love. If she is in the Guinness Book of World Records for
Earliest Smile, it will be because of the gigantic smile she gets from her
Daddy every second he is around her. Love, love, love, love, love watching
their relationship flourish and unfold.
Thank you to everyone who brought food, words of
encouragement, and prayers. Prayers and prayers. Thank you, thank you. My world
works in windows now, as I call the hours between feedings. The windows are
often short but we’re establishing a decent pattern, it seems. I know that
could all change in an instant as she grows in spurts and stuff. I’ll say “and
stuff” so this post won’t haunt me when things change drastically. The other
thing that’s changed is my complete inability to respond to people in a timely
manner. I used to be Lightning Lee and now I have one priority in life –
family. That’s God first, then Kevin, then Dorothy. Dorothy is a full-time,
round-the-clock commitment, which means I have to make extra sure to pray first
(ie talk to God constantly) and make a cognizant decision and concerted effort
to keep Kevin my first (earthly) priority. After all, Kevin is the reason I
wanted children, and he’s the glue in our collage of craziness.
It took me a month plus to be able to write this. It
took 45 minutes once I had the 45 minutes it required, but it took a month to
get the time to write it. So if you text and I don’t answer quickly, we are
still friends. You just have to wait for a window. Know that I’m nursing and
praying and praising the Lord – for Gabriel and Dorothy and Kevin and our
extended family and our friends and everyone else we love and know.
I can never be short-winded with these things. But I
just want to remember. I want to always remember. Also, as my Heavenly Daddy
continues to draw me closer to Him, I see this verse in a whole new light now.
Could you willingly, purposefully give up something you love for the sake of
others? Not just some THING but someone? Not just someone but your only child?
Soak it in. Soak it in like Epsom salt. Then keep asking questions if you don’t
get it because this – this, my friends – is the every thing in everything – the
beginning and the end – He is the I AM.
For God so loved the world that he gave his only son,
that whoever believes in him shall not perish but shall have eternal life. –
John 3:16
