From the Archives
Baby number five was an odd challenge. We thought we were done after number four. But not long after we brought number four home, our eldest started saying, “God is going to give us another baby.” We would shake our heads and say “Ok” and move on. Then he started saying, “God is going to give us another baby and it is going to be a boy.” Mind you, he is six and we already decided we were done; two boys and two girls seemed perfect. Besides we were running out of room in the van. When he started saying, “God is going to give us another baby and it’s going to be a boy and we’ll name him Matthew” we started to wonder.
Then we got pregnant.
I am not one of those women who love being pregnant. I am “morning sick” all day and way past 12
weeks. Also, I carry way out front, like so far that it scares people when I
turn around in the end of pregnancy, “whoa! I totally didn’t know you were
pregnant, you’re huge!”
So we had to find out if this would be a boy baby, and get
used to the idea of a baby with the name Matthew. When I looked it up in our names dictionary,
I discovered something cool. Matthew
means gift of God, and so does Nathanael, our eldest. So the name seemed super fitting considering
the surrounding circumstances.
Our first hiccup came with my initial blood work. I got a call back from the midwife’s office
saying they were referring me to maternal-fetal specialists because one of my
labs came back elevated. We found out at
maternal-fetal that my anti-e was elevated.
Basically, the thing to worry about was if Matthew’s blood type was
incompatible with mine, then at some point my body would consider him a threat
and my antibodies would go after him and his blood supply. He went on to say this usually happens in high
frequency pregnancy mamas—this being number seven for me, it all made sense to
him. So as long as this anti-e stayed
below a certain number there was no worry.
This meant I could continue to see the midwives, but had to get poked at
every appointment.
Thankfully that lab work never spiked again! My pregnancy was normal up to the going one
week past my due date. My parents got in
town and the next day I was timing contractions again. They would taper off if I lied down in the
last week, but this day they wouldn’t just go away. I tried doing dishes, still they were
there. I tried lying on the couch, now
they started to take my breath away. I
sent my husband a text message at 2 saying they wouldn’t go away. He left work.
At three o’clock I
left the house with the library books that were due that day, asking my husband
to just drive to the drop box on the way to the hospital. Halfway there, we changed our minds. It was getting harder and harder to
concentrate, and we weren’t going to make it if we detoured.
I checked into the desk and they got the room ready. My midwife came in and looked at me and said
she was going to go down the hall to tell the other mother she had there that
she was going to stay with me because she was not going to miss delivering this
baby. She came back in and broke my
water to make it easier. Forty-five
minutes after checking in at the front desk we had Matthew in our arms! It was wonderfully fast and during the day!
The next morning, my husband brought up all the brothers and
sisters to meet Matthew. As they were
walking up to the hospital Hannah started to skip and fell. She ended up spending half the day after
meeting Matthew waiting in the ER with Dad for 5 stitches to close up her chin.
God was merciful to us in giving us one more gift of a
son. We wouldn’t trade any of our five
kids or their birth stories for anything.
Our van is completely amazed out now, and my husband is building a
triple bunk bed for the boys. God is
good.
~ Shared by Laura A.
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