Malachi's Birth Story

Today Malachi turned 6 years old.  It seems like only yesterday he was a newborn yet I really don't remember what life was like without him.  Every birth story is special and unique and so I thought I would share our journey about Malachi.

The fall of 2004 I was a senior in college obtaining my Bachelor of Nursing degree.  James and I had been married a little over a year and we were at a point where we thought it was a good time to start our family.  We wanted to be young parents so that when the kiddos grew up we were still young enough to enjoy life.  So I went off of birth control so we could possibly get pregnant.  Months went by and no pregnancy.  I started to get antsy because many other girls in my class were pregnant and as happy as I was for them, I yearned for my own.

Finally, the Tuesday after Mother's Day in May 2005 I realized that I was "late".  Could it be?  I waited until 6am the following morning and took the pregnancy test.  The 2 pink lines appeared and I was overjoyed.  I rushed into the bedroom where James was waiting.  I jumped up and down and shared the joyous news.  And in the humor only James has, he asked, "Well, is it mine?"  I'm pretty sure I slugged him for that.  We were both thrilled at the prospect of parenthood.

The first trimester was such a busy time.  I graduated from college, studied and passed boards and went through orientation for my nursing job in CVICU at a large hospital in Wichita.  I suffered with nausea most mornings and the normal fatigue.  At week 14, I was receiving report at work and passed out, hitting my head on the edge of the counter.  It was embarrassing, but I was fine.  From then on, I made sure I ate more protein in the morning!

In late August, James' sister was going to graduate from the Army's Boot Camp in South Carolina.  We decided that we wanted to make it so we made plans to drive down with his parents and little brother (who is taller than James which is important a little later in the story!)  Initially, I wanted to fly down there because I was starting to get big and the thought of a 22-hour drive (one-way) just wasn't very appealing.  But, to save money, I decided that I would tough it out.  As with most new nurses, I was putting in my time working the night shift.  I couldn't sleep very well during the day, but I did the best I could.  I worked the night before we left and took a short nap before James and I drove up to Salina to meet up with his parents and brother.

His parents owned a minivan with a middle bench seat and a back bench seat.  I thought that the boys could share a bench while I stretched out on the other bench.  But when we arrived in Salina, I was in for a rude awakening.  The middle bench was folded down so that the suitcases and coolers could be stored there.  The back seat was reserved for James, Jason and preggo me.  Are you feeling my pain yet?  Yes, it was as uncomfortable as you can imagine.  I was smashed by the window with a belly that wouldn't move. We needed to make good time, though, because there was an impeding storm called Hurricane Katrina that was going to affect our route.
   
I tried to nap as much as I could.  Around midnight, it was my turn to drive.  James was my co-pilot.  After about an hour of driving, James was fast asleep and I started to drive into horrendous rain and wind (aka Katrina).  It was pitch black and my knuckles were white from holding onto the wheel.  On the radio, all they were talking about was the magnitude of the storm and the impact it had already had.  By daylight, James woke up and I was super eager to let someone else drive. Everyone felt bad that they slept through the storm while I was left to drive through it.  We finally made it to our destination and enjoyed hanging out with Kristen.  The rest of the trip was uneventful, thank goodness!

Around week 18, we had a sonogram. James made the request that we not find out the sex of the baby.  He said there were few good surprises in life and this was one of the them.  It was hard not to look, but I wanted to honor his wish so it was going to stay a surprise.  (We found out with Samara and even though it's hard not to know, I prefer waiting until their arrival.  To me it's more special)  It seemed like it was going to be a normal pregnancy.

However, at week 24, I started spotting.  The first time it happened I was getting ready to go in for my 12 hour shift.  I called the doctor's office in a panic and they told me to stay home and be on bed rest until I could get in for a sonogram the next day.  In tears, I called the charge nurse to let her know and she was so supportive and understanding.  The next afternoon I went for a sonogram and it was discovered I had an "incompetent cervix" or as James lovingly called it my "retarded cervix".  This meant that my cervix would have a hard time not dilating early and the chances of going full term were slimmer.  My OB/GYN suggested that if I wanted to continue to work, then I should work no more than 8 hours/shift.  I was so fortunate that my boss was willing to let me have the hours of 11pm-7am.

For the next few weeks, it seemed like my cervix was holding up, but at 31 1/2 weeks, I had more spotting and was dilated to a 3 and was already 50% effaced.  I was put on strict bed rest.  Of course, this had to fall right before the Holiday season!  It was a long 4 1/2 weeks, but I made it through and was able to go back a few days before Christmas.  I was under the impression that maybe if I worked a few shifts then I would go into labor before the end of the year (tax purposes, ya know ;-) ).  James and I went on long, cold December walks before I left for my shifts.  But nothing seemed to be working!  During one few of my final shifts, there was a male nurse who also was a farmer.  He got on the unit intercom around midnight one night and said that he was looking at a farming catalog and he could order cow forceps and a gallon of lubrication and slide the baby right on out. All the staff were busting up laughing.  If only that would work... 

On New Year's Eve, I went in for my 3rd and last shift of the week.  I was desperate to pop this child out!  I was helping to pull patients up in their beds even if they didn't look like they necessarily needed it.  I was squatting every chance I could.  I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions since week 28. I was so used to some sort of contractions I was hoping my water would break because I was scared I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between the contractions.  My shift came and went and no labor.  I drudged back home and rolled into bed around 9am.  James was fast asleep.  At 11am, I rolled over, my back to the bedroom door.  Immediately, I felt the urge to go pee.  I quickly decided that since I had JUST moved away from the door, I could hold it a few minutes before attempting to get up.  Not more than 30 seconds later, I felt what I thought was pee streaming down.  I hopped out of bed as quickly as a 38 week preggo woman could.  Completely and utterly embarrassed at wetting the bed and dreading having to tell James because I was pretty sure I wouldn't live it down.  But, very quickly I realized that this was my water!

I shouted at James to get up because my water broke.  He rolled over and asked if he could sleep for a few more hours.  Uhh, no mister, get yourself out of bed and drive me to the hospital!!!!  He (very slowly in my opinion) hopped in the shower while I called my parents to tell them the news.  My dad answered the phone and caught me off guard with his response to the news of my water breaking.  He asked, "Well, what does that mean?"  Hadn't my dad gone through this TWO times before?!?  "Dad, it means the baby is coming today!".  "Oh.  Your mom is in the shower.  I'll tell her."  Little did I know that they, along with my sister and brother-in-law, had quite enjoyed their New Year's Eve and were a little slow at getting around the next day.

At long last, we were in the Escape on our way to the hospital.  James hadn't eaten so he stopped at Sonic to grab a bite.  He wanted me to eat, too, but since it was my normal sleeping time, I had zero appetite.  We arrived at the hospital.  Yes, my water indeed broke (duh!) and soon I was settled in our room.  Of course, with it being New Year's, my OB/GYN had the day off.  I was bummed, but the thought of holding my little bundle outweighed my disappointment.  The attending told me that my contractions weren't causing me to dilate any further and so they were going to start Pitocin.  The devil's drug, the dreaded "P" word.  James and I had both been adamant about having a natural birth, free from pain killers, epidurals, etc.  We had read about the Bradley method and felt like we could deliver naturally by using some of the techniques it taught.  But with the use of Pitocin, would I really be able to withstand the natural contractions along with the medicine-induced contractions?

Within the span of 30-45 minutes of having Pitocin on board, my mood had changed.  I no longer was laughing/joking.  Mentally, I had sunken deep into myself so that I could totally concentrate on the task at hand.  James sat by me, holding my hand, caressing my face and talking me through each painful contraction.  My mom was on the other side with cold clothes for my forehead to help with the waves of nausea I was experiencing.  There was a point during the labor, I thought that I couldn't possibly go any further without an epidural.  I wasn't able to have any breaks between contractions because of the Pitocin.  But I so wanted to deliver our child the way we had envisioned it and that thought allowed me to press on.  (I later discovered that it was around the same time that James also thought that maybe I should get an epidural, but he didn't want to come across that he had doubts about me being able to deliver so he didn't mention it).

Approximately 5 hours after starting the Pitocin (and still only going on 2 hours of sleep), I felt the urge to push.  Oh sweet relief.  Most of my friends had only pushed for a few minutes before their baby came so surely my delivery would be about the same, right?  The doctor and resident came in along with a host of other personnel.  I was so ready to meet our child.  Was it a Malachi or a Samara?  Oh the anticipation!  James and the nurse were talking me through my pushing/breathing cycles, holding my legs.  The doctors were trying to coach me on where exactly to push.  And I pushed, and pushed.  I didn't scream like other women I heard.  I was determined to use all of my strength to bring this child into the world.  But what was taking soooo long?  I was starting to panic inside because I didn't know how much longer I could physically endure the labor without sleep.

And then an hour and 10 minutes after the initial push, Malachi Luke Dinkel entered this world.  James gasped, "It's a boy!"  His eyes were moist from the tears he had when looking at his son for the first time.  A boy.  How perfect.  He was an even 7lb and 19 1/2 inches long.  Born at 7:10pm.  He was precious.  My parents and sister and brother-in-law met him and then wearily drove back to KC. That first night was spent with Malachi laying in between James and I while we stared at him and talked about our incredible journey to parenthood.  Then one of us would pick him up and kiss that precious face.  Oh and that newborn smell.  Ahh, wish I could bottle that smell up forever.

Our New Family!

 We stayed in the hospital for 2 days.  James' parents, sister and younger brother visited us the day after his birth.  His older brother met Malachi after we got home.  We juggled with trying to figure out each cry meant. Malachi started to wake up every 30 minutes and we were so exhausted. At our 2 week check-up, our doctor suggested the "Baby Wise" book.  It talks about having your baby on a strict routine: eat time, play time, bed time.  Bed time required you to just lay the baby down while they are awake and they will soothe themselves to sleep.  At first, I was apprehensive because it went against everything we had heard about demand feeding and rocking the baby to sleep.  But nothing else seemed to be working so we gave it a chance.  Since Malachi didn't start out with being on a routine, it took him about 2 weeks for him to get used to it.  Once he did, though, it was amazing.  I knew exactly when he was going to eat, sleep, etc.  I could actually plan my day and it would normally go according to plan.  And Malachi was a much happier, easy-going baby.  For us, the routine was a lifesaver and we implemented it right away with Isaiah and Samara and the transition went seamlessly with them. 

Malachi has truly been a pleasure to call our own.  His sweet, caring nature is heartwarming.  He doesn't shower us with hugs and kisses, but when he gives them, it brightens the worst day.  Out of the 3 kiddos, he is the most laid-back, obedient one. (maybe it's a first born thing).  While it's sad to see him grow up so quickly, I'm excited to see the young man he is turning into.  Malachi, you are such an awesome dude.  I am honored that God chose me to be your mommy =)

Happy Birthday!

The Night Malachi Came Home

Malachi means: "Messenger of God"