Shannon Lorie Haws

 I refer to my blog for any facts about any of my other babies, so I thought I really *had* to get a post up of Shannon's birth!

As per my usual, I had been having contractions for several weeks leading up to hitting 37 weeks (which is when I had my last few babies) and so it was a constant mind game of wondering how long the contractions would last and if they would lead to anything. They never do. It's miserable, haha.  So when I hit 37 weeks I felt huge, exhausted, and like going any longer was going to be more than I could take. My OB kept laughing at me because this baby was doing EVERYTHING different. I told her that I always went three weeks early, but then there I was on her exam table for an appointment at 37 weeks. I told her I was always dilated to a four or five, but I hadn't gotten past 3. I told her my babies were always breech and had to have a version, but THANKFULLY this time around baby had been head down for a LONG time. She was super nice and told me she'd sweep my membranes if I wanted. She said she wasn't worried about baby's size because she kept measuring fine. 

It was the last week of school so I had preschool graduation for Gracie, Kindergarten graduation for Russell, end of year orchestra, etc, etc, I don't even remember anymore. But it's the May crazy with all the things planned. 

The first day after the membrane sweep, nothing. The next day I started having contractions in the evening, which was so normal that I wasn't even paying that close of attention to them. The kids had their last day of school in the morning so we were doing all of the things, and then they all went to bed. I couldn't sleep, so I went out to sleep on the couch. The couch had felt more comfortable to sleep on during this pregnancy, which is HILARIOUS because that couch was originally my sister Megan's, then she upgraded and gave it to my sister Kami, then Kami moved to Colombia and loaned all her stuff to us while she's there (she comes back in November and I'm going to have to get a new couch, washing machine, trampoline, pouf...the list is endless and I am so sad, but happy to have her back haha) so the couch is really old, and you can feel springs, and Sterling just cannot figure out how I found it comfortable at all. It's a mystery to both of us. But it was. Laying on the couch didn't help, sitting in my chair didn't help, kneeling beside the couch kind of helped. At 9pm-ish I was sitting on the couch and wiggling my hips around trying to get comfortable-and my water broke. WHAT? Another thing that has NEVER HAPPENED before haha. I walked into the bedroom and told Sterling "so, I'm pretty sure my water just broke." and he goes "Really? you sure?" and then we just went back to doing our normal things, haha. So basically I spent a few uncomfortable hours and the entire time was just wishing they'd go away so I could sleep because I'd been sleeping so terrible. And they were completely inconsistent-14 minutes apart, 11 minutes apart, 5 minutes apart, then back up to 13 minutes apart, etc.

I texted my sisters on our group chat at 3:09am (my sister in Maine gets up at 5am and she was asking about baby) "Water broke at 9pm. I've never had that happen before so that was kind of weird and exciting. No baby. Trying to decide (again) if I should go in yet or not. Super painful contractions, not truly regular. Making me use the bathroom over and over." Around 330 in the morning I decided I'd wake Sterling up because the contractions were just getting SO PAINFUL. But still completely inconsistent. We figured we could just leave because Ruth was home, and when she left for school we planned on either having Sterling come back to the house to get the other kids to school or call someone to come over. He gave me a blessing in the car in the parking lot because I'd forgotten to ask before we walked out.

Walked into the hospital and it was SO wonderful. After living through health care in Florida I will always be 1000x grateful for health care in Utah. Walked right in. Told them my water had broken a few hours before and that my contractions were getting intense but not consistent. They took me right in to a delivery room because the hospital was empty and no one needed it and they checked me and I was at a 7. Which made me feel a whole heck of a lot better because I was so worried about coming in and having them say I wasn't even dilated past the 3 I was already at. I don't know why I was worried about that-but I just think it would have felt especially silly since this was baby number six and I should have it figured out. But as previously stated, nothing was following my usual experiences. 

They asked me if I wanted an epidural because they'd have to call the anesthetist to come in to the hospital and they needed to do it right away since I was at a seven. I had hemmed and hawed about getting an epidural my entire pregnancy. On one hand, the two deliveries that I had not had an epidural felt like recovery was AMAZING. And I really, really, really hate the feeling of the epidural going in. Really really hate it. On the other hand, after birth uterine contractions are brutal and have gotten worse each time. Since I was at a 7 and likely to only get the epidural by the time things were most painful, I decided that yes, I did want one.

When the anesthesiologist came in he was chatting about how he met us somewhere at some function, and I had zero recollection. He was pretty cool though, which put me more at ease. I am exceedingly doubtful of any anesthesiologist being good at their job unless they are my sister, Megan. That kicked in, but never really on the lower left of my belly, which was a little annoying, but actually okay because I don't like being so numb that you can't even move. 

I felt like I should push, but my doctor wasn't there. The nurse said I was at a 2+ which I didn't really know what that meant-but they were getting ready to deliver without my doctor. But the same thing happened as when I had Will--doctor finally arrived and then my body was like j/k we're going to take a ten minute commercial break. I don't remember how long I pushed for after that, it was a bit longer than I thought because Grace had been about three pushes, but it wasn't very long. My doctor thinks the cord might have been attached funny because it kept pulling her back in a bit, and then she was stuck on her shoulder--she kept putting her hand up by her face, just like it had been in every single ultrasound haha. I was very happy at that point that I had an epidural. 

Babies being born is truly miraculous and also crazy and you never seem to remember how hard it is and how fragile you feel and how worrisome it is and somehow I'm always minus a full nights sleep. She was born at 5:55am (so two hours after arrival), was 6 pounds 15 ounces, and 20 inches long. Born on May 23, 2024. The minute she was born she starting LOUDLY sucking and rooting and all of the nurses were laughing at how immediate that was. Latched right away. Instant ease. But she was NOT OK that the milk was not readily available yet, haha. She actually had a really, really rough first night (after her first day) because she thought she was absolutely starving. At about 4am--when she was almost 24 hours old--I actually had the nurse give me some formula to give her, in this nifty little sucking straw that they attach to me so they are actually sucking on you but getting stuff out of the straw--so that she would calm down. Worked like a charm. In three months she hasn't changed--needs food instantaneously when she wants it, but absolutely happy as a clam once she's fed. And a day later there was no lack of food. 

The placenta struggled to come out, she had to reach in and pull around for a LONG time and then I was EXTREMELY grateful for the choice to have an epidural. My doc was also very worried about blood loss since I was so anemic and had to have iron infusions during my pregnancy, so they gave me some pitocin to help everything stop bleeding. But if I remember right (and it's amazing how much I feel like I've already forgotten in three months, I really really should have written this earlier) it was smooth sailing after that (I mean, sleep deprivation, hemorrhoids, engorgement...the normal smooth sailing!). She looks SO much like Ruth it's crazy-I've never had two babies look so much alike. It is *still* a constant debate about her hair color. It's definitely red, the jury is still out over just how red it will be or stay. She's gorgeous and beautiful and we love her so.

Ruthie has temple every Thursday morning with our ward youth group. So she got up to go and realized we were gone. So she let everyone know we were having a baby! And she was not wrong. Our neighbors heard that from her and came over and grabbed Gracie, and Sterling went home and sent everyone else to school for their last day of school. He went to Russell's kindergarten graduation assembly and then brought Russell to meet the baby afterwards. So Russ was the first one to meet her! In the evening, after feeding them all dinner, Sterling brought all the kids to meet her. I'd been despairing about naming her ALL DAY because I just couldn't quite decide between a few. So we had a family vote and named her Shannon Lorie. I still sometimes think I should have just named her Lorie, after my mom, and called her Lorie Louise. But we love Shannon as a name so much too. She now gets called Shae, Shae-Shae, The Chubstress, Shan Shan, The Queen, Shannon-ana-agins, and whatever else they want to call her at any given time.

Taking her home was wild. To go from completely independent children to having a teeny tiny newborn was crazy. We had a few days with Sterling home and he did a great job of keeping all the kids occupied and then my awesome sister-in-law Bridget came and took my kids to her house (from Vernal to West Valley!) so I got a complete break, and it was just what I needed. 

The she definitely became baby number six-within two weeks she was traveling and visiting family, being squished by absolutely everyone, she even went camping at two weeks old! 

The adoration of her siblings has still not worn off--she is everyone's favorite and the amount of kisses she gets is unending. We love her so much! And three months later-I'm feeling good, even started running this week, and so so happy to have her here!

Journaling 9/12/23

 The Come Follow Me lesson for this week says to think about ways your trials can be a blessing. That there is a great purpose and blessing in tribulation. We, by keeping our covenants, are being polished. Medical school is a very interesting thing because after thirteen years of working towards a goal, suddenly, seemingly overnight, you are flipped. Instead of being the lowest of the low on the totem pole and having to work endless hours or face reprimands, instead of making nothing and barely scraping by and dreaming that someday it will change-suddenly it does. I mean, sort of. We still have LOADS of debt to pay back and I'm crossing my fingers we can afford a house someday, haha. But Sterling doesn't answer to anyone else--his time is his own and people turn to ask him questions, instead of demanding of his time and demanding he do menial tasks all of the time. Instead of having absolutely no family time--we suddenly get to spend time with him (it already feels too little, and that makes me feel guilty because it is so so much more than we are accustomed to and I feel so much gratitude, but also, why are my kids' lives flashing before me eyes!??!?!) and we suddenly get to implement things that were really difficult for our family to be able to do before--like FHE, family scripture study, family council. We certainly strived for these things, but then when Sterling was unable to make it frequently...(ever)...it was really hard for me to muster the energy to keep everyone alive AND keep all those plates spinning. And now we have older kids with lots of activities so even though Sterling might make it--it's still really hard to plan those things in. But we are trying! 

Our Relief Society lesson on Sunday brought some old tribulations to mind. Like moving to Miami and living in a bilingual ward and having the entire culture be so different from everything I'd ever known and having three kids three and under and playing the organ and being in the primary presidency and not having a husband, or having a husband who had to catch up on homework all day after church, and, and, and....it was rough. I shared a story that I hate sharing because I still feel ashamed about it. After a few months into a calling of nursery leader (which I did while basically nursing Molly the entire time I walked around a sang to kids and fed them snacks because otherwise she was bawling) and coming home and crying every day over how exhausted I was and how I never felt the spirit--I didn't want to cry anymore. Sterling had a free Sunday where he was home and since he was never around--I wanted family time. I wanted to actually enjoy my family. I craved feeling happy together and having my spirits lifted. So we packed up (Sterling incredulous but supportive of my crazy the entire time) and drove down to my favorite beach in the Keys. Instead of church. And it was glorious. It was! The sun was beautiful. The water pristine. My kids were laughing and enjoying themselves. Sterling loved holding Molly and getting her to sleep. I got to sit on a towel and soak in that gorgeous sunshine and the laughter of my kids. A golden memory. And I knew as soon as we came home that I would never, ever do that again. Church is what I wanted for my family. Gospel lessons. Christ as the forefront person in my children's lives. 

 I have since recounted that story to a close friend in Delray Beach, and she cried. She said she thinks I had that experience just for her--to connect with someone who is struggling coming to church, because that is something I have never really felt before or after. That's true, I'm sure. But it was also for me to have a moment to reflect on Satan's way, and the Lord's way. The Lord did not promise that His way was easy---and Miami did not get any easier any faster--but He did promise that the polishing that was being performed, that "after much tribulation come the blessings." 

Last night my kids were jumping on the tramp in this BEAUTIFUL September evening, after a hilarious FHE where Grace was in charge of the lesson, so we followed the outline in the Friend magazine and talked about how our bodies as individuals in the church work together--just like our body parts work together so we can dance, and we had a family dance party to "We Are Family" and ended with brownies and vanilla ice cream. Sterling started mowing the lawn, I did dishes, the kids got ready for bed. They are not perfect (we had a whole emergency family meeting for how not-perfect our household was been lately haaahaaa) but the moment was. And today I reflected on the contrast. I think my joy is enhanced because we had been doing what we were asked to--we'd prayed together and studied scripture together, and then we'd had fun together. And it brought real joy. Trials can often bring us perspective when we ponder on them afterwards.