I don't care what number pregnancy it is for you, until that child
arrives, the speculations, worries, questions, visions, never cease. In
fact, I wonder if it worsens with each one. For some reason, I felt
anxious throughout this entire fourth pregnancy. Though symptomatically,
it was identical to the previous three, there was something very
different about 4.O. We found out his sex ahead of time, in big part,
because of this inexplicable anxiety. I had expressed major concerns
about the delivery early on, to my OB. The projected large size of my
offspring made me nervous, I kept telling her that my old, tired uterus
wouldn't be able to handle it, and that the baby's head would never come
down. Three, flawless, healthy, relatively smooth, prior deliveries
made me even more nervous! You'd think this would offer reassurance,
but I was certain that something had to give, something had to be
different. All along, what I didn't know, is that 'something' was
Mitch. He is different.
Luckily, all of these worries, the anxiety, were for nothing. From the moment my water broke to the delivery, everything went great. I would like to note that once most of the fluid had finally flushed out, my belly was half the size! Even the nurse noticed a significant change. It's no wonder I would contract with every movement. The baby wasn't so much gigantic, just his living conditions. The labor was a bit slow, lasting 8 hours, and the baby's head was in fact, not coming down as I had predicted. Until it did. Then, one contraction and he was free!
With all of my births, I remember seeing the baby for the first time. I
can remember all my initial thoughts. With Mitch, I saw his quivering
lip, and thought, Curtis! I saw his little nose and thought, Brock! I
saw his cheeks and thought, George! Then I held him, cleaned him up,
inspected, kissed, and hugged my new baby, and realized, he was none of
them. He was just Mitch. I saw my husband next to me with tears of
joy. I sensed a room full of happy, relaxed nurses, doctors, and
techs. I knew that we had done it again. We had created another
healthy, happy, beautiful, perfect little baby boy. For the remainder
of the hospital stay, and even today, I continue to smile to myself. I
reflect regularly, and think, "I have never been happier." Never. I
couldn't put into words why I felt this way, I thought maybe some of it
was relief that all had gone so beautifully. Or perhaps, because Mitch
turned out to be so incredibly cute, and dark haired, and familiar to
me. But then, Matt sat across from me the morning after Mitch was
born. I look over, and he is holding the baby, kissing his forehead.
And Matt says to me, "This is the happiest I have ever been." To which,
I reply, "Real nice, what about your other 3 son's?" Matt doesn't even
hesitate in his response, "They are part of why. I now have 4 perfect,
healthy sons. I have never been happier." It's amazing how frequently
my husband of little words can exactly capture a moment in one phrase.
Or one photograph.
Because of the late delivery, the big brothers did not get to meet Mitch until the following morning. This is one of my favorite parts of becoming a new mom. These little boys reactions are always so adorable, somewhat predictable and fun. Brock, being the veteran, came in smiling, took one look at the baby, perhaps said "Hi", then moved on to exploring the many, many buttons which fill the hospital room. Happy boy Curtis, was all smiles. He loved that baby from the moment he saw him. He worked on saying his name. George. Haha. Little George was absolutely bewildered. He kept looking at me, very disturbed by my hospital bed and gown. He did not know what to even think of the baby. You could see the wheels spinning, but he could not quite put it all together. This was somewhat upsetting to him. I had to get up and change into normal clothes before he would have anything to do with me. He has kissed and helped with the baby a lot since then. He loves giving Mitch hats and pacifiers.
One last thing, I will always remember about his birth, is that this is the first time I birthed a child that I did not immediately think, "O'Laughlin!" He has a full head of dark hair. Eyebrows! Fuzzy little arms and legs and ears. I think he might look the most different from his brothers. Perhaps even a bit like me? Or, as some people have put it, "my breed". Maybe he will enjoy the Summer and heat like me! I did say that I was breeding an Olympian while I was pregnant with him, and judging by his HUGE hands, long arms, ability to hold up his head from birth, and activity in utero, I don't think I'm totally wrong. Fingers crossed he not only got my dashing good looks (boy version) but my athleticism.
Mitch loves to cuddle. Nurses like a champ. Sleeps soundly and for long stretches. Has only just begun to open his eyes for brief periods. Apparently, he thinks if he is awake, then he should be eating! He was not quite back to birth weight at one week, but over halfway there. He does enjoy a pacifier. He can tune out nearly any noise. He's not so sure about the swing, but we'll get there. I cannot decide if he likes to be swaddled. His finger nails are really long, but oddly attached the the skin below. His skin is the softest I've ever felt. His eyebrows give him quite the expressions. He has Matt's chin. He smiles in his sleep. He is perfect.
Everyone else seems to think he is perfect, as well. It makes me over-joyed to see how much everyone accepts and loves
Mitch. Not just his brothers, but all of my and Matt's family. All of
our friends. I've said it before, and I will always say it, but
bringing a child into such a supportive community makes this experience
all the more overwhelmingly amazing. And wonderful. And relaxing. And
joyous. I get to spend a couple days int he hospital, admiring my
miracle. Absorbing the baby smells. Noises. Feel. Serenity. All while
knowing my other children are happy as clams. Hanging with their aunts,
uncles, and grandparents.
MITCHELL FRANCIS O'LAUGHLIN
SEPTEMBER 26TH, 2013 at 9:46pm
9lbs 8ozs and 21.5in
