And in that space of being unsure we realized you were already there, and we were shocked. So, so happy and so, so shocked. It wasn't long before I became very ill, which usually happens around 6 weeks for me, but this time, it lasted and lasted. I needed to sleep a great deal and eating was difficult. I had very little energy. But as I had tasted the possibility of no more babies, I could not be too distraught! I remained focused and grateful...another baby, another soul to mother. The privilege was keenly felt.
So time went by. I'm not sure I bore my infirmities very well, but time did pass and I began to feel better. At least a little bit. And then we got a scan that told us that you were a boy! A boy? This felt shocking. I had basically decided that we only made one boy. The joy of telling David was so intense - he cried, we all cried. The girls were very magnanimous and decided it was only fair that David get a brother since they all had one another. (Except Beatrice, who insisted it was a girl anyway)
I knew this time around that I could not return to the hospital, because I had been so unimpressed with the care there with Beatrice. In the wake of Covid, many doctors and hospitals turned their backs on patients and their need for care. I never even received any postpartum care from the doctor I saw with Beatrice, and stories of women separated from their newborns or forced to birth without their husbands and wearing a mask convinced me that I would never go there again if I didn't have to. I searched, and found a midwife via social media whose beliefs aligned with ours and who respected and valued bodily autonomy. She was an hour drive away, but we decided this time around to have our first home birth. Although your siblings had been born outside of a hospital, this would be our first home birth and it seemed fitting. I finally was at peace with the idea and so was your dad. We also knew there was a high likelihood that our midwife would miss your birth, because of the distance and faster births I tend to have. But that didn't deter us; we were confident that we could handle the birth ourselves and that the midwife probably wouldn't be too far behind.
Unfortunately, during my pregnancy with you, we had several friends who suffered a great deal due to miscarriage, still birth, or premature babies. There was a great deal of sorrow surrounding many that weighed on my heart. So my goal became to hold you: it was all I could think about was holding you, looking at you myself, and knowing that you were okay. I held my breath at every appointment, worried that it would reveal a shadow to pass over us as well...but it did not come. So I kept thinking about the joyful moment when labor would be over and you'd be in my arms.
The last part of my pregnancy passed by so quickly. Too quickly! I had many, many projects I was trying to finish: wallpaper, putting up shelves, Easter outfits. Not everything got done, but I got a lot done and I'm proud of that. Yet as time passed, and I got closer to term, I felt more tired than I had before. Due to the unexpected nature of your existence, we really were very unsure about your due date. Even ultrasounds had given us a rather wide range of possibilities. Yet we settled on February 26th (the day after Ash Wednesday) as the most likely date, and stuck with it. But as I hit 36 weeks, I just felt very tired and worn out. Physical movement at the end was extraordinarily difficult. I had never before felt as physically cumbersome as I did this pregnancy. Am I just getting older? I wondered. But I think now I may have been further along than I thought originally.
I had a lot of anxiety about when labor would start. I felt unsettled about it for some reason. So I talked to you and I said, wouldn't it be nice if you came by having my water break like your oldest sister? That way I wouldn't make the midwife make the hour drive out here for nothing? I hate guessing if it's labor - so baby, if you could, would you start your journey with my water breaking?
And then...well then the power went out, when I was 40 weeks pregnant. Yes, the power went out in the dead of winter. And that, well, that made me panic a bit. What if I went into labor and I was in a house with no lights, no running water? We had some friends reach out to us and offer us a place to stay. It was nerve-wracking to pack up and go stay somewhere at 40 weeks pregnant, but they were so incredibly kind and made us feel so at home. Then our power came back...so we went back...and we waited.
That Saturday morning (40+2) we went to confession. Hearing my confession, the priest offered to anoint me afterwards if I wanted to wait. So I did and he prayed over me for a safe labor/delivery, and anointed me with oil. It was very moving and gave me a great deal of peace! Another Sunday came and went. I tried to help with organizational projects that mom was involved in...Tuesday I went to bed, thinking I had until at least Saturday. I laid there listening to the rain, and thought to myself, a baby born at night in the rain sounds so peaceful. I love the rain.
But in the middle of the night, I felt you give two VERY strong movements - so strong they hurt! - and I felt a little pop. Oh. My water broke? My water broke! 2:30am. How funny - my two prayers about labor were answered. It was during a rainy night, and it began with my water breaking. The Lord truly hears our prayers.
I immediately called the midwife and she told me to call back when I was having contractions. Well, okay...so I laid down and I thought something was starting, but I wasn't really sure I was just tired...but the time I realized they were contractions, walking was difficult. I got your dad and we headed downstairs to the basement, our own little "birthing suite."
At some point, we realized it was getting serious so your dad called the midwife to tell her to head this way. I walked into the shower and enjoyed laboring in there. I managed to ask Tom to get Auntie Jen...I managed to ask for water..and at some point, I spoke to the Lord from the depths and said "I need to push now. I need for this to be over." Labor felt more difficult than I had anticipated. The midwife wasn't there yet, but that didn't concern me very much. So I started to push...and push...and push. It felt so very hard, so much harder than I thought it would with a fifth baby! Unbeknownst to me, your dad recognized that you were coming imminently and moved into position: he was ready and you were born into his waiting arms. The midwife was just five minutes away! I managed to sit down and your dad put you on my chest, and I was at peace. The moment I had waited for - I could hold you, look at you, and know you were okay. We had done it: we made it through pregnancy, and labor and delivery, safely, together.
When Jenny the midwife arrived, and entered calmly into the bathroom, she didn't change the mood at all. She was completely at peace with your arrival and declared "he looks like he weighs 9 pounds!" We waited some time to weigh you, but she was spot on - you were nine pounds even, our biggest baby yet. Your head and your chest had the same circumference, by the way - that might account for a pushing phase that felt more arduous than expected.
Humorously enough, after you were born, the power went out again! But I found this even less humorous than the first time, because I was so worried about you. Our friends kindly welcomed us again! And the power came back! So we went back home...and the power went out again a couple days later. This time, only for about 6 hours. It came back on at a very dramatic moment when Zuzu yelled "I just wish the power would come on!" BOOM. On it came! Everyone wanted to still sleep in the living room, by the wood stove, like we told them they could when the power went out - so all of your siblings had a sleepover. You and I stayed cozy upstairs in a real bed!
It was quite an eventful winter between all the power outages and your arrival. But now you are here, and so loved by every single one of us, doted on by everyone. You have many nicknames, normal ones like Jon Jon or Little Jon, but also including "Pubbity" which then became "Pubby" or "Pubbs." I don't know why! It's just a nonsense name we invented when we were all being silly. We love you silly. You are so dear, our darling Jonathan. Named for your paternal grandfather, and also for the dear friend of King David in the Old Testament. 1 Samuel 18:1 tells us that "the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul." That is certainly our prayer for your relationship with your brother, who waited for you for so long! And of course your middle name was given to you to symbolize the title of Mary that we have dedicated you to: Domus aurea, House of Gold. In the Old Testament, the Inner Sanctum of Solomon's temple was very dwelling place of God, called the Holiest of Holies. It was entirely made of gold. So Our Lady, as the dwelling place of God Incarnate, is a House of Gold: filled with all the riches of virtue and grace which she possesses in fullness. Our prayer for you is that the Incarnate God would find a worthy dwelling in your soul and that you will imitate the Blessed Mother all the days of your life.
May God forever bless you, my darling boy. He has certainly blessed me by sending me you.
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