The Sunshine Room 2: benjamin

Typically the third, fourth, fifth child in a family gets the fewest parades. Benjamin is no exception. I haven't taken nearly as many photos of him as of the other two. I haven't spent nearly as much money on new toys, clothes, gadgets for Benjamin. I haven't blogged adoringly about his facial expressions, the smell of his breastfed poopy diapers, or the nightly terror I have of being woken by a crying baby who can't breathe through his nose (he's got a cold right now...it's exhausting for everyone). All those little details of his babyhood aren't being forgotten though. And Benjamin is not being neglected.

Every day Luke and Seamus take turns holding Benjamin. A few days ago Luke admitted to me that he loves Benjamin better than he loves Seamus. "I love him more because he's newer. And because he lets me hold him. Someday I will carry him around like you do." Today Luke decided he was strong enough to pick the baby up and stood beside the couch picking Benjamin up and putting him down, picking him up and putting him down, for a full ten minutes. Later in the day I came in from the neighbor's house and Luke came leaping up to me grinning and shouting, "Benjamin spit up on me for the very first time! All over me! I'm not even lying!"

I have also felt protective of my time with Benjamin. I don't resent waking up nights with him at all because I get him all to myself in the middle of the night. In the afternoon, during quiet time, I often skip a nap in favor of snuggling with the sleeping baby - what sane person with three kids, one of them a newborn, skips a nap?! I've even taken to sharing my special alone time in the shower with the wee one, just to be skin to skin with the warm little bundle.

Derek and Luke nearly arm wrestled to decide who would feed Benjamin a bottle the other night, and Seamus is constantly stroking Benjamin's head and whispering things like, "You're a sweetheart Benjamin Harvey", in his ear. We often find jam or chocolate or bread crumbs on Benjamin's head because Seamus just can't keep his hands off Benji's soft little noggin. The first thing Seamus says to me in the morning is, "You're a good girl, Mom. But Benjamin's a good boy and you're not a boy but I'm a boy and Luke's a boy and Daddy's a boy, but you're a girl and Benjamin Harvey is a boy like me." Luke refused to go to church last week without Benjamin. "I want to have him with me at church. I want everyone to know he's my new brother!"

Benjamin may not be getting a parade with a full marching band and majorettes. But he's got his own little fan club, and we play kazoos that rock the casbah.

I am sorry I keep calling you Seamus. But you can be glad I am not mistakenly calling you Linus, at least. That was the mistake I made with Seamus.

In just a few hours you will be three weeks old. Three weeks! Three weeks seemed like ages when I was pregnant and waiting for you to be born. And since you've been here...three weeks seems like ages when you never sleep longer than an hour and a half at a stretch! Please won't you sleep a bit longer, little one?

I think perhaps today you began a growth spurt. You've been inconsolable unless you're at my breast, and frankly my boy, you've drained me dry. You're in the crib in my bedroom crying as I type this. You fell asleep nursing my empty breast and the moment I laid you down you started sqwuaking again. You've been fairly easy to please up until now, so I'm hoping it's just a growth spurt and not colic.

Yesterday I looked at you and thought you looked bigger. Since the day you were born I have thought you look smaller than your brothers. You certainly don't weigh less (you were 9lb 8oz at your appointment on Wednesday), or measure smaller, but your head is a different shape. Your Grandma says you don't have the Thiessen head, like the other boys. Do you have a Bergen head? I've never thought those heads were particularly small, though. Either way, your head seems a different shape than your brothers, and I think you look distinctly You.

Poor little Benjamin. Your face broke out in baby acne yesterday and it looks so uncomfortable. After your bath today it looked a little better, but you've been so upset off and on all day that your face is red and sweaty anyway...you're just a pitiful thing when your chin quivers and you're all worked up and red in the face.

The night before you were born, December 26th, I wasn't feeling too good. I hadn't slept well for weeks-months, really. Since Steven died. At first it was grief. Then nausea. Then the call of nature. Anyway, I thought the exhaustion was finally getting to me. I'd been having contractions for two weeks, and nearly every evening for two weeks I thought, "Wow! These are strong and close together! This could be it!" And then I'd go to bed...and wake up the next morning still pregnant.

But my Mom said the night before you were born she could tell something was different. I hardly touched my dinner. I escaped to the basement couch for a little while after dinner and just lay down. My Mom came and visited for a bit. The house was pretty loud and crazy with five extra adults. Every one of your extended family came to meet you! Grammy, Grandpa, Auntie Lissa, Auntie Sarah and Stephen, all came from California for Christmas, and your birth! Your arrival was ordained cause for celebration.

I wanted to go for a bit of a walk in the evening. I just didn't have it in me to sit still for very long. When people started volunteering to walk with me I insisted I would go on my own. I wasn't really planning on walking so much as shuffling. I went down the street and around Barracuda Bay and home again. Very. Slowly. Contractions weren't regular, but I had several on my walk that were strong enough to make me pause.

I went to bed while everyone else watched an episode of Big Bang Theory. I fell right to sleep and woke up at 4am when I felt some liquid gush out. It was blood, so I called the hospital and they said I should come right in to have it checked out. While we got some snacks together and Derek got dressed my contractions were about three minutes apart. I woke my Mom and she gathered up her stuff to come along as the special guest for what I hoped would be your birth!

When we got to the hospital at 4:45am I was three cm dilated....only one cm more than a week previous, and not enough for them to keep me in the hospital. They would have sent me home except I was still bleeding and they wanted to keep an eye on that. By the end of my nurse's shift at 7am, the contractions had gotten so that I couldn't talk through them, and I was 5 1/2cm dilated.

I showered, and when the doctor came in to check me at 8am I was 6cm dilated. I asked if he would break my water because I could feel it bulging and I remembered that once they broke my water with Seamus everything sped right up. Dr. Basson agreed and broke my water on the next contraction. I immediately got dizzy and vomited several times and nearly passed out. I just barely stayed conscious to hear the doctor say I had gone from 6cm to 8 1/2cm when they broke my water. If I hadn't been so woozy I would have jumped with joy.

You felt so funny in my belly after the doctor broke my water. I could feel your little arms and legs just under my skin, like you were crashing around inside a collapsed tent - trying to find the exit. The next half hour went by in slow motion. I breathed nitrous oxide during contractions and your Grammy and Daddy stood on either side of me, just touching me and saying encouraging words. I knew that now I was just waiting for the desire to push. The doctor decided to go change into scrubs.

I began to get terrible charlie horse cramps in my butt, so I switched positions and got on my hands and knees. Within moments I felt the need to push, but the nurse wanted to check me and couldn't while I was on my hands and knees. I refused to go on my back, because that's when the cramps were the worst, but I was really in no position to argue. I had already pushed through one contraction on my hands and knees and the nurse was getting worried. I flipped around and the nurse pushed a little lip of the cervix back while I pushed through one more contraction. I had just asked the nurse if she'd ever caught a baby when the doctor swooped in and I pushed for the third time. Your head came out, and for one awful second I knew something wasn't right - the rest of your body wasn't coming out like it should. I'd done this before, I knew that once your head was out the rest should be easy. But I was still pushing!

Your shoulder was hung up a little, so the doctor repositioned me, flattened the bed and got your shoulder out. Finally! Three contractions and you were out. December 27th, 8:45am, baby boy Thiessen #3 arrives. A little purple, but a 9 on the Apgar scale. 8lb, 8oz. A tiny, naked, frog-legged boy laying on my stomach. You looked so different from your brothers! We all said so. Grammy noticed a birthmark on the back of your neck when they put the ointment on your eyes. And later I noticed your ears look a little elvish, and lay flat against your head unlike your brothers'. You lay with me and nursed right away. You latched on and just made yourself right at home for the first 35 minutes of your life outside the womb. I think your Dad cut the umbilical cord, but those details are a bit fuzzy.

I was thrilled to meet you, and just so thrilled not to be pregnant anymore. Don't get me wrong, Benjamin. I was so happy to know you were growing inside me. And so happy to have a third baby boy. But pregnancy was exhausting. All the vomiting, the lack of sleep, the discomfort. You will never know, because you're a man. And even if you were a woman, not all women have it as bad as me. But pregnancy is just no fun for me. There were about two weeks in the middle when I felt comfortable and beautiful and healthy. And then the rest all just blurs together in one long uncomfortable fog. After you were born I am sure I said something like, "HELLO little boy!!" and then, "Hey everyone!! I'm NOT pregnant anymore!!" I was just that happy.

You didn't have a name at first, and that drove your Grandma crazy. I was just happy to have you in my arms. Your Dad and I got lots of suggestions for names that day as we introduced you to everyone. Your brothers came to meet you first. They both wanted to hold you. Luke had asked Santa that you be born on Christmas, but you didn't cooperate. You can imagine that waiting two whole days after Christmas just about made Luke blow a gasket. Seamus couldn't stop saying delightful things like, "We just love the baby!" and, "The baby is so smart!"

Next we were visited by Grandpa Stan, the Aunties and Stephen, Kelvin and Jonathan Dyck (who said he'd never seen a baby so new before and was surprised that you didn't look "weird"), your Grandma and Papa, and Auntie Jaime. The top two names on our list were Cedric and Theodore. But since we couldn't agree between the two of us, and neither of the names really seemed to suit you, we threw both those names out the window and started from scratch.

The next morning, over Tim Horton's bagels, your Dad and I debated between Andrew and Benjamin. Your middle name was arranged beforehand. We looked at you. We asked you. You were Benjamin Harvey. We filled your name in on the hospital paperwork just moments before sticking you in the car seat and heading home for the first time. The day you were born it was so warm that everything was melty. The day we took you home, we took you home in a blizzard!

Welcome to the world Benjamin Harvey. Welcome to Manitoba in the middle of winter! We will not be celebrating your birthday with pool parties. But maybe we will make snowmen, or snow angels, or a snow fort or go winter camping or build snow lanterns! You get to share December birthdays with your cousin Roehn, and your Grandma Helene! And we will never forget that your first winter in Manitoba was also Grammy and Grandpa's first Manitoba winter experience (and boy did they experience the deep freeze!).