I am so pleased to share our newest addition with you today. Meet Ezra.
A little of our birth story, if you’re into that kind of thing:
He was due to arrive in the middle of the craziest, hottest summer. He was supposed to be my August birthday buddy. He was supposed to make his arrival in that sweet spot between settling into our new house and the school year starting.
And really, everything had been falling in place… we found our new house the day after we closed on our previous. We got the keys nearly a month earlier than originally promised. We were good to go.
July 19. The Pods were on the driveway. We had volunteers lined up to help unload. I spent the 100-degree day gathering our belongings, ready to move in and settle in and fulfill my nesting needs.
July 20. 1 a.m. Three weeks before the due date. My water had very obviously broken. We throw a few essentials in bags (I had been packing to move in to our new house, remember, not heading hospital!). I assumed we’d be sent back home. No contractions, I felt fine, we were supposed to move in the morning.
Turns out (and a PSA for anyone as uninformed as myself), once your water breaks, the baby needs to be delivered within 24 hours. After hours of waiting, no sleep, texting the wonderful people unloading a house’s worth belongings, getting to know the nurse, playing card games, a second dose of Miso – the contractions finally picked up.
I go from mild crampiness to an intense “wooooaah, this really is happening today” pretty quick. We went for a walk to help get things going, and I couldn’t stand more than a lap or two. Soon enough, it was time (surprising the nurses and OB). Two pushes, and this baby boy was delivered.
Ezra Thomas, my third boy — who besides God would have thought or imagined? Nothing as I planned, exactly as HE planned. Almost three months later, and we’re still finding our way through this crazy season, taking it one day at a time.