What's in a name?

So our adorable baby boy made his entrance into the world last Sunday...and I have a feeling life will never be the same!  It is amazing how much love you can have for someone you met only a week ago.  I want to remember this time as I start out on the journey of motherhood so I thought, there's no better way than to blog about it!

I think it's important to share Karter's birth story, as it was not anything I had planned at all (I hear it never is, though).  As many of you know, Mark and I had struggled getting pregnant, which made it all the more of a blessing to us when we finally got a "positive" pregnancy test result.  We had gone back and forth for awhile trying to decide what we wanted to name our baby boy.  Finally we were able to agree on the name "Karter Josiah."

I liked the name Josiah from the very beginning because it means "God will help" and I thought that was so true considering the circumstances around me getting pregnant.  Little did I know how much God would end up helping us and how appropriate Karter's middle name is.

After a few false alarm trips to labor and delivery (I may have been a little too eager to have Karter!) and one that day, Mark and I were relaxing last Sunday night getting ready to go to bed.  As I was sitting on the couch I felt a "gush" of something, which is how I had heard many people describe as their water breaking.  I ran to the bathroom thinking "could it finally be time??"  only to find every pregnant woman's worst nightmare-blood...and lots of it.  I was bleeding and it wouldn't stop.  I don't think I had seen so much blood in my life (sorry for the graphic image, but I promise, it's important to the story!)  I immediately started freaking out and Mark and I gathered everything up and headed to the hospital.

The ride there was torturous.  All I could think of was "how could I make it two days until my due date and lose my baby now??"  I mean, how often to do you hear of pregnancy+lots of blood ever equaling something good.  I kept prodding my stomach trying to make Karter move so I could have some reassurance that he was alright.  I finally got a little kick, but I was still scared out of my mind.  I thought of having to return home and see the swing in the living room, the crib in the nursery, the cradle in our bedroom and not having a baby to enjoy those things. 

After what seemed like forever, we made it to the hospital, where I was by now shaking out of fear.  They hooked me up to the monitor and I was so relieved to hear his heart beating and it was a normal heart rate.  The poor nurse who was checking us in had to deal with my 20 different variations of the question "Is my baby ok, am I going to be ok?"  The nurse contacted my doctor and my doctor decided I needed to have an emergency c-section.  Within minutes the anesthesiologist was in my room getting me ready for an epidural.

The funny thing is, I had spent many a night not being able to fall asleep thinking about the labor process and how terrified I was of an epidural. Now there I was, finding myself with no time to freak out about the epidural or the fact that I was having a c-section, which I never imagined having.

Amazingly enough, and definitely a God thing, everyone that needed to be at the hospital for my c-section was available.  My doctor had decided to work late so he was there and ready to go.  Fast forward through all the gory parts, and I found myself checking into the hospital at 9:30pm and a mother to a beautiful, healthy baby boy at 10:31pm. 

It turns out my placenta was partially abrupting from my uterus, which is not a good thing at all.  I was told that if I hadn't made it to the hospital when I did, then Karter probably wouldn't be here.  When the nurses who were taking care of us at the hospital would hear about why I had to have a c-section, I was told many times how lucky we were. 

Looking back on that day, I see God's hand in Karter's arrival in so many ways.  First of all, at church that morning, the sermon was on prayer and we were asked to write on a post it note our prayer requests.  I have thought what could have happened if both Mark and I hadn't written "baby" and "birth" on our notes.  There was also the fact that Mark had asked if I wanted to go to bed an hour before I noticed the bleeding.  Had I said yes, I may not have noticed the bleeding in enough time to get to the hospital.  It was also amazing that all of the staff that were needed were there in order to perform my c-section. 

So looking back on the whole experience, I would say that Josiah was a fitting middle name for Karter.  Every time I look at his precious little face, I am reminded of all the ways that God has been faithful and helped us in this situation.  Now if only I could get God to help with this sleeping situation...