Gil's story

Gil sleeps with Grandma Paula

So, where was I? Oh right, 36 weeks pregnant and in the middle of the busiest two weeks of the semester.

On Friday, December 2nd I gave my students their final exams, graded half of them, and packed up the car to drive to Urbana, IL for Silvercreek's annual Breakfast with Santa brunch. We arrived at Grandpa Allen's house late Friday night, went right to bed, woke up and ushered the girls into the car so we wouldn't miss Santa's arrival at the restaurant - the same restaurant where Chris and I met.

Brunch was a success, girls had a great time, I consumed baby's weight in waffles and sausages... a perfect morning. But I was beat. Chris was beat. The girls spent some time with their cousins, but we were overwhelmed with a desire to just be back home. So we grabbed lunch and uncharacteristically headed right back to Chicago.

When we got home, I threw pajamas on my girls and I threw myself on my bed. And then it all started: my water broke, but it broke in a slow and sporadic way that kept me in denial for at least 45 minutes. Looking back all the signs were there: my contractions throughout the day had been more painful than normal, I was exhausted (more than my usual), and we had hightailed it home (completely unusual).

So what was my first reaction to the real possibility of delivering 3 1/2 weeks early? Those damn exams. I sat down and started grading. And then I realized I was being ridiculous. What I needed to do was finish knitting the sleeves on baby's third gray sweater.

Oh, don't worry. Soon the reality of the situation hit us both full force, and we came to terms with the fact that we were completely unprepared for the night that was now facing us. I hadn't packed a bag. I didn't have my papers in order. I didn't even have a warm bunting for the baby, not to mention a name if it was a boy. I put aside the Spanish exams, I packed the knitting, and we got down to business.

Phone calls were made, arrangements were in order, Karen was on her way to stay with the girls and my Mom knew she had to come first thing in the morning. I shaved my legs, grabbed my hospital bag, and Chris and I left the house at 11:00pm.

By the time the midwife saw me I was 6 cm and still feeling pretty ok. Because I was about to deliver quite a bit early, there was no way they were going to let me deliver in the ABC (alternative birthing center) where Mae was born - I had to go to a traditional room with a hospital bed and monitoring equipment. The midwife on call did her very best to ensure the same kind of experience offered in the ABC for Chris and me, and we were grateful. She dimmed the lights, gave me a big room with a shower, monitored me only sporadically, and let me lead the way and decide when it was time to go for it and push that baby out.

Gillian Fern Strong was born only a couple short hours later. At 7 pounds, 6 ounces, we all did a little happy dance to celebrate her early arrival, saving me from delivering a 9 pound, full-term baby. But there was a trade-off: she didn't breathe so great and had to be transfered a short time later to the NICU.

I say this like it's no big deal, and considering that she was discharged two days later, it really isn't and wasn't a big deal. But for those of you who know me and know how long Bela and I ended up in the hospital together,  you'll forgive me when I confess that I kind of sort of fell apart here. The first 24 hours were the worst. I couldn't nurse her, I couldn't sleep. I just sat there and stared at the monitors that were measuring the oxygen saturation of her blood, an unwelcome reminder of my Dad's final days. And I felt sorry for myself, to be doing this again, to have missed out on a problem-free birth. I was worried I wouldn't be able to nurse successfully, I was scared she would be there all week or longer.

Gray sweater #1 :) 

But things didn't go that way. And now that we're home and I can look back at it all, I learned a good lesson from this beautiful babe. I can't control every situation. She came and I wasn't ready. I hadn't done all the things that are so very important to do before a baby comes: I hadn't spackled the girls' bedroom wall, I hadn't cleaned my bathroom, I hadn't installed the kitchen cabinets yet, I hadn't dyed my roots or trimmed my toenails. I hadn't even finished the semester. And she came anyway. And it was ok. Her sweater had no sleeves, but it sure did keep her belly warm, you know?

And hard as it is, that is the lesson I'm trying (trying) to take to heart (Chris is rolling his eyes because I don't always do a good job living the lesson, if you know what I mean). Of course, Gil makes it easy - such a beautiful, loved little girl.

Biggest sister

Middlest sister

 So here we are. Three daughters, house is a mess... And it feels just right.

Gma Dori, Gma Paula, Mae, Bela, Ruby, Me and Gil