If you need to, you can catch up by reading the first and second parts.
After my second miscarriage some friends suggested that I might have my hormone levels checked. A close friend had gone through something similar to me, but had a successful pregnancy right after her miscarriage because she didn't wait for her hormone levels to drop back down.
A little hormone schooling for ya: the hormone progesterone is needed in the first trimester to keep the pregnancy. When progesterone levels start to drop off it's a sign to your body that it's time for a period. When pregnant, after the first trimester the placenta takes over the progesterone production. For more details you can read this article.
Anyways, back to the story.
We decided after the second miscarriage that we weren't going to wait the recommended three months before trying to get pregnant again. I was suspicious of my progesterone levels being low due to signs like hair loss and cystic acne. Sure enough, after one month we saw two pink lines on the stick.
I just have to say, after taking so many pregnancy test, there is no better place to purchase them than at the dollar store. I don't think all dollar stores carry them but it's worth checking out. Spending $1 per stick vs. $5-9 per stick is a big difference. Check it out if you're in the market.
Anyways, once again, back to the story!
This time I had NO spotting. I made an appointment with a naturopath and by eight weeks found that my progesterone levels were indeed low. I was put on a progesterone pill for the first trimester and had zero complications with my pregnancy.
From the beginning I knew my baby. Whether boy or girl, I knew exactly who was in me. When we found out we were having a girl I felt that "knowing" deepen. I wanted to name her Hazel, which means "commanding authority."
I think Nathan was scared because it is such a strong meaning. But I felt that's exactly what she was. A strong girl. My mom said, "Hazel is an old lady's name." I was like, "Mom, you named me Helen after an 80 year old lady you knew!" She changed her mind.
When we asked Abiah what we should name her he suggested Cowboy Chinnah. I, of course, starting calling her that in hopes that Nathan would settle on a name. Which he did. And I won. But there was something missing. We couldn't find a middle name that suited her.
When I was 38 weeks along my mom and dad left for a week trip to Florida with the belief that since this was my first delivery I would be late. On Wednesday night of that week I didn't feel good so I laid in bed listening to worship music trying to relax and fall asleep. That's when her whole name came to me.
I was listening to Chris Tomlin's version of Amazing Grace over and over. While letting my heart relax in the freedom of the words, I saw it. Or knew it. Or...something. Anyways, a commanding authority isn't a bad thing. As long as there is grace! And, as the Queen I wanted to raise this princess to be someone who commands authority with grace.
At 6:30 the next morning I was wakened by the sensation of my water breaking.
Nathan was a wreck. He wasn't ready. The car seat wasn't in the car yet. Our bags were packed but the house was a mess. I had planned to get up and clean it. Oh well! Babies come when they will. And this one came two weeks early! Thankfully I had registered with the hospital the day before. Before I could call there I had to get a hold of my mom.
Since she was in a conference I knew it would be difficult. After trying her cell and my dad's cell I crossed social boundaries I was uncomfortable with and called a friend, Pam, who was with them. Interrupting my mom is one thing. Interrupting friends seems so much different.
Pam was gracious, of course, and I heard the disappointment in my mom's voice when she found out who it was before she was even to the phone. She guessed why I was calling. She had never missed a grandbaby's birth. This time it was inevitable.
Since she was going to co-support with Nathan and wasn't able to now, I called my older sister, Summer, and she stepped into the position naturally. After taking Abiah for us and leaving him and her four kids with a sitter, she met us at the hospital. Being a pro birther herself (see the reference to her four kids, which she had all without drugs) she was a great second option.
Actually, after watching her have her first daughter I told her she could just carry and deliver all my babies for me. She was good with that, too. Her husband? Not so much.
My labor was pretty normal. Hazel was posterior. And that HURT!
Nathan was amazing. My midwife and nurse were amazing. Summer was too. Even though she made fun of me and laughed at me a few times. She was the perfect person for me to have there. She is my birthing hero and offered me the perfect amount of support.
Nathan was amazed when, after him, the midwife, and the nurse suggesting or asking me to do something, Summer would tell me to do it and I would without hesitation. I don't know what it was except maybe I trusted her because I had seen her do this four times already. Plus she's my older sister and I'm used to her bossing me around!
As hard as it was to not have my mom with me I think it was good for me. I found that I had it in me to go through that without her. My mom and I have a good relationship and it is easy for me to depend on her more than I need too. I think I would have felt more like hiding behind her skirt than pushing myself to be strong and work through the most intense pain in my life.
Around 11:20 that cold October (2007) night, Hazel was born. She was the most perfect 7lb 9oz baby I've ever seen. She had a perfectly round head and gorgeous skin. I held her for over an hour before handing her over to be cleaned and checked. She was so small. My perfect baby. My dream. One answer to many tearful prayers.
I felt like I had arrived. I was suddenly the woman I had known was in there somewhere. And then I went home...