6 Weeks.

Dear John,

It was recently subtly pointed out to me that I have been slacking in the blogging department, and that you were the party taking the most direct hit with the lack of documentation of your early days. For this, I am sorry. The truth is, there is just so much MORE these days. More laundry, more picking up, more feeding (you like to take your time), more meal planning, more more more. But there is also a bit more appreciation this time around. With you, my beautiful second child, I am hyper aware of the fact that I will NEVER get this time back. This time with you where it's just us and I don't have work, and some days we don't have your sister, and because there are no degrees of warmth outside, we don't even have the pressure to DO ANYTHING, except to lay around and stare at each other and for me to take in every little bit of your beautiful baby self.

You really are quite handsome. What can I say? Your Dad and I make some pretty good looking babies. There are times you look so much like your sister did as an infant that I find myself calling you Annie. It's amazing how your brain recalls images that had long since been tucked away until you have something that brings it all rushing back.

And it did all come rushing back. How a baby's head feels tucked under your chin, how you have to be so so careful with their little tender bodies, how MANY DIAPERS you go through when they are this age, how it almost feels like it's not worth getting in bed at 11 at night because you are just going to have to get up in an hour and a half.

But with you it feels different. I feel more calm about what we are doing. Well, except for the breast feeding part. That took us a bit to get into a groove there. And that's an understatement. I might have had some sort of post-partum depression that manifested itself as a manic obsession with getting you to breast feed "properly". Once I bent myself to your will, things turned around and we have been much better since. Never get in a fight with an infant. You will lose and it won't be pretty.

Don't let my lack of writing about you make you think I have not wanted to. I have written 100s of posts in my head about nursing, differences in baby #2 from your first, priorities, obsessed big sisters, the holidays, etc., but every time I think about putting you down and picking up the computer to write one, you win. Every time. So while you were neglected on this blog, you were definitely not neglected in real life.

I have two more weeks of maternity leave. I am not sure where it went. I am struggling between trying to jam all the little projects I have wanted to complete into those two weeks and then wanting to hold you and snuggle you the entire time.

But I will keep reminding myself that the sorting, folding, and cleaning (and blogging) will always be there. But my little baby-my last baby-won't be this tiny baby for long, and the rest can wait.

I love you, sweet boy.

~Mom



John Ellis Erwin's Birth Story

We arrived at the hospital at 9:25 am; 5 minutes early as to be expected by us Erwins. Thankfully, we had called ahead and learned that they had plenty of room and we did not have to wait to get taken to our birthing suite.

We were checked in quickly, I filled out all the bizarre paperwork associated with cord blood donation (no, I have not engaged in prostitution while in Africa and using shared needles, not even ONCE!) and we were set to go. The Pitocin was administered by 10:15 and while I still had to have the IV in my wrist, thanks to the configuration of the room, it was in my left hand this time, so a bit less painful due to limited movement. Our nurse's name was Andrea and she was just as precious and helpful as every nurse we have encountered at Missouri Baptist. I really cannot say enough good things about our experience here.

When I was checked in, I was still at 1.5-2 cm dilated.

I started to feel contractions around 11:15 (I took better notes this time). And even though I swore I wouldn't, I suffered through some just to have the experience. I have no idea why I do this. It's like I think I have to have some discomfort as part of the process. But what I did learn from Annie's birth is that you order the epidural about 30 minutes to an hour before you think you will really need it. So once I felt some significant discomfort in a few contractions, I notified dear Andrea that it was time for some pain relief.

The epidural was administered at 12:45 by a delightful woman with shockingly cold hands. She had to reposition the catheter once because of some strange buzzing I was feeling on my left hip. Those epidurals are straight-up voodoo magic if you ask me. Sweet, sweet voodoo magic.

Post-epidural birthing experience was exactly what I had imagined. There had been a snow storm the day before and the view out my window was actually peaceful and Christmas-ie. For the most part, it was just me and Rick in the room. I drifted in and out of sleep between popsicles. They broke my water at 1:30 and I was relieved to hear that it was clear. If you will recall with Annie, there was meconium in the fluid, which ultimately caused her to spend some time in the NICU.

Liza stopped in for some comic relief around 1:45 and hung out off and on for most of the afternoon. When I was checked at 3:00 I was at 5 cm. I had been progressing about a centimeter an hour for the whole process. As part of the epidural, they roll you from side to side so the medicine is evenly distributed. Inevitably, there is a side that is more comfortable, which for me was my right side due to my IV and the fact that Liza and Rick were sitting on this side of the room. So that's how I stayed from around 3-5.

At 5, they checked me and I was trekking right along at my steady rate of 1 cm an hour and was at 7 cm. I recommended to Rick that he go get some dinner while he still could and they rolled me over to my left side.

About 30 seconds after they changed my position and everyone left the room, I heard the baby's heart rate go all wonky. Wonky as in stopped, then significantly slowed down. I then felt the ominous "pressure" downstairs that anyone that has ever considered birthing a baby hears about. I originally thought it was because I had to do some bathroom business, but it kept up pretty strong and just as I was about to press the nurse call button, Andrea came rushing in to see what was going on with the heart rate.

She checked me and I was at 9 cm at 5:10.

Apparently Dr. Jostes's baby antennae was up because he had just called and asked how things were going and if he had time to run to dinner. They advised that he should probably start heading this way. I called Rick to tell him to get his booty up to the room and it went to voice mail, so I sent a text saying that he should probably rush the dinner since the baby was coming. Thankfully, he made it up in time.

I had informed Andrea that Annie was born with very little pushing and that I expected the same of this baby. Apparently Andrea is a bit of a pragmatist (or pessimist, depending) and informed me that things always don't go the same way and to be prepared for possibly pushing longer. This kind of took the wind out of my sails, but I didn't think about it too much since I was pretty well rested and hopped up on sugar from my popsicles.

I stopped taking notes at around this time because that's just obnoxious, but I imagine Dr. J got there around 5:30. We talked about how to push again and then waited for the contractions to start.

Anyone that is turned off by some graphic birthing talk should probably stop here because it's about to get real.

During the first contraction, I felt very strongly that I was going to poop, which is right up there on my list of birthing nightmares. Everyone says it's completely normal and no big deal, but I suspect they have never knowingly pooped on a table with all their private parts exposed and 5-7 people in the room. So needless to say, since the push for making a baby is pretty much the same as the push for the big #2, I didn't give that first push my all. Dr. J immediately admonished me and told me I needed to push harder.

I was at a crossroads: try not to poop and prolong the birthing process or just give it my all, likely making a bit of a mess in the process, and get this baby out.

Thankfully my mom-brain prevailed and I decided to buckle down and get this baby out. Apparently I might have over-compensated as John and I both emerged from the birthing process with blown out blood vessels in our eyes. It's either all or nothing, people.

I pushed through two more contractions. Each contraction is roughly three rounds of pushing for ten seconds with one big breath in between. After the third contraction, Dr. J announced "your baby will be here after the next contraction!".

It was time.

I wish there were words to describe this brief period of time when you are hanging in limbo between pregnant and about to be a new mom. I remember the moment with Annie as well. It's as close as I can imagine to jumping off a cliff. You know with certainty that your life is about to be completely changed. That there is something coming that is so huge and important, and so completely fragile, that it takes your breath away. For both my babies, this moment seemed to stretch out a bit, thankfully.  I took a second to remember life before them and say goodbye, and welcome what was about to come. In these seconds, you have no idea what is about to happen. You and your entire family are so totally vulnerable and I am not sure how people that don't believe in God get through this period. If they had a pastor present in each delivery room of those that don't believe, I would bet they would have a pretty high conversion rate for this moment alone.

A quick prayer of "God, please keep us safe and let us be ok, but most importantly, let him be ok."

Three more rounds of pushes during one contraction and he was not out but Dr. J made a promise and we kept right on pushing and he was out. And crying like it was his full time job. Annie didn't cry, so this was the best sound ever.

5:53 pm. 8 pounds 10 oz. 22 inches long.


The cord was wrapped around his neck two times. Thankfully, I seem to make nice long cords and God kept my baby safe.

Meet John...



We are all in love, especially Big Sister.