Baby Avery

"The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble; he knows those who take refuge in him."
Nahum 1:7

Name Meaning
Walter means "Ruler of armies" and Nahum means "Comforter." We've always like the name Walter. It's classic, simple, and strong. Only a week before he was born did we settle on the middle name. We've been studying the minor prophets at our church, The Town, here in Fort Collins and the sermon on Nahum was only a week or two before he was born. It was especially meaningful to me, listening to a sermon about finding comfort in God alone, in the midst of enemies and turmoil. I thought to myself that it would honor the season that Pete and I are in, and our kids, as a family to name our child "Comforter." We can remember the tumultuous season we've been in, the goodness of God, and the reminder to seek refuge in Him. We will also pray that our new little one will always take comfort and refuge in his Savior.

Family History
As we accidentally did with our daughter Lucy, we've named a child a name that we discovered was already in the family; on both sides!

Walter Washington Hedrick, born in 1870 in West Virginia, was my Grandpa's grandfather. That makes him baby Walter's Great Great Great Grandfather. I don't know much about him except that he had nine children, but I hope to learn more.

Walter Julius Fuchs, born in 1921 in Germany, was Pete's mom's uncle. That makes him baby Walter's Great Great Uncle. His family moved to Saint Louis when he was a child and his sister is Pete's grandmother, Elizabeth (Fuchs) Honigfort, who married Herman Honigfort. Walter Fuchs was a priest. I look forward to learning more about his life as well. Fred Fuchs, their brother, is age 97 today and got to meet baby Walter via Facetime a few days after he was born.

The other kids are enamored with their new brother.

A little over 2 weeks ago on November 9th, we welcomed Walter Nahum to our family! He was 8 pounds 6 ounces and 20.6 inches long and born at 9:06 am.

On Friday November 8th, my mom arrived via plane from Georgia to help with the other kids for when I went in to labor. Incidentally, I had been in a lot of pain all day long and was wondering if it was labor. It didn't feel like labor but it was so painful I was in tears several times, and my back and hip were throbbing like contractions. Maybe I was experiencing back labor for the first time? I wasn't sure. I pressed on throughout the day, we celebrated Pete's birthday all together. I called the hospital and they encouraged me to come in to check if it was labor or at least to give me something to help me sleep. I was 39 weeks and 3 days; due November 13th.

So around 7 pm (all of the times are approximate since I don't remember very well and we didn't keep good track) Pete and I headed to the hospital. We got checked in and hooked up to monitors. I was having mild contractions but they told me I wasn't in labor. However, baby's heartbeat was erratic, bouncing back and forth between very high and slightly lower than normal. The on-call doctor said she'd like to do a sonogram to check my fluid levels and see what baby was doing in there to make his heart rate so erratic. At this point I was up for anything that would help me stay in the hospital and have the baby that night. I had even decided, that after four babies without drugs, I wanted an epidural this time around. I cannot explain my choice other than I just felt completely depleted physically and emotionally this time around and felt unable to go through with having a natural birth. Our family has been in a hard season for many months, including a lot of transition: a move, lots of change with our job, new school for the kids... I had to think hard about what I wanted, not what others wanted for me (really hard for me!!), and I was in so much pain already, that I decided before we got to the hospital that I was a-okay with drugs. I was only at about 4 centimeters dilated when I came in.

The sonogram showed that my fluid levels were very low, and that my placenta was calcified, prompting the doctor to suggest keeping me there and inducing. I said "yes" right away. I think it was around 11:00 pm or midnight when they got me hooked up to pitocin and offered me some drugs through my IV to help with my excruciating hip and back that brought me in initially. I took three separate doses of that which lasted 45-60 minutes each. Pete and I both slept in between them until about 3 am. It was amazing. And I think they broke my water around 1:30 am. I think around 4:00 am was when I asked for the epidural, after I made sure I was having strong, painful contractions. From 4:30 until 8:30 we pretty much slept and I felt nothing. It was the weirdest, most amazing feeling and I am super grateful I chose it. I felt pressure and they checked me again and I was at 10, which was just so strange to me. It was so different than my other births. I don't regret the decisions I made with any of them. I started pushing. I'm not sure how long I pushed; it was maybe 45 minutes, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was actually an hour. This was the hardest part since I couldn't feel anything, AND it was the opposite of when I had the three other boys and my body just pushed the baby out involuntarily in 2-3 contractions (if you read the other labor stories, the doctor almost didn't make it it was so fast and furious.)

Finally he was born at 9:06 am on Saturday morning. What a wonderful (and easy!!) birth! I thought. It really was! Several minutes in to the doc and nurses stitching me, helping me deliver the placenta and all that, it occurred to me that it was taking a bit longer this time around for all the post-birth protocol. I was holding Walter, enjoying my new baby, and then things started ramping up. First a shot in my left leg. Then a pill I was supposed to dissolve in my gums to stop bleeding. Then a shot in my right leg. Then I threw up. Then another shot in my left leg. Another pill. All the while people are doing the usual uterine massage on me and I'm feeling grateful that the epidural is still working. Then, the doctor says she'd like to move me to OR (operating room) to "see better" because the bleeding is not stopping and she needs to see what's going on. So in a blur, a team of medical professionals roll my bed to the OR, yelling at people to get out of the way. I felt very weak, kept on shaking uncontrollably, and apparently looked very pale. (Pete was back in the delivery room with Walter. He even had a social worker come in and check on him, alerting him that the situation was pretty serious.) When I got to the OR I had doctor's working on all sides of my body. On my right side they gave me a blood transfusion (4 units of fresh red blood cells, and 1 unit of fresh frozen plasma, so I'm told) and on my left the kept poking me with needles but I never figured out why or what they were doing. I believe I got anti-nausea meds as well as more pitocin through my IV. Meanwhile, they were putting a bakri balloon in my uterus to stop the bleeding (look it up). When it was all done, I had catheters and tubes everywhere and I still couldn't feel the lower half of my body. I had to keep the bakri balloon in for 12 hours before they started draining it, and I wasn't allowed to get out of bed. I believe I was in bed for 36 hours total, including labor. It was very uncomfortable. I realized what I had experienced was postpartum hemorrhage (stage 3), the leading cause of maternal death.

On Monday we all came home. My recovery has taken much longer this time around than any of my other births. It seems like I'm a week (at least) "behind" where I should be, or at least what all the info they sent me home from the hospital with says I should be with bleeding and activity, etc. When I had Paul I was on a plane to Georgia for my brother's wedding less than 2 weeks later and felt great. I still, 17 days later, don't feel the greatest. In all of this though, there is so, SO much to be thankful for: Life, blood donors, modern-medicine, hospitals, kind nurses and doctors, a baby who eats and sleeps well, my family, my mom helping out so much, meals from people at church, Pete who has given me sleep and been "super dad," sweet older children, a warm house when it snows 14 inches...