I suppose part of technology's drive forward stems from our own fascination with it. The "human" side to the plastic and metal "books," boxes and phones. None of this is more entertaining than the typo. There are entire blogs dedicated to funny typos, most due nowadays to predictive text. But, to me, nothing tops the little joy I get from when I somehow mistype "Olive" (as in the sweet girl who is due to join us any day now!) and it shows up as "O love". I just love it! (No pun intended.)
O love. Or as my mom likes to say, "Olive you!" (For "I love you!")
We certainly didn't intend it, but our girls' names have had some fun meanings and connections.
For one, both of them begin and end with vowels. Both are exactly five letters long and contain the same number of vowels and consonants (3 vowels, 2 consonants) but only have the letter "I" in common. Both names have concrete meanings in something other than a name: obviously a country and a fruit. And yet both harken back to old English names.
And the other day I was trying to come up with a fun artistic way to express my girls (I had been given a coffee mug that you can draw/write on and I wanted to put an image on it that would capture my daughters) when I decided to draw an olive tree by a river (India means water or river--it comes from the Indus River). I was suddenly struck by the Psalmist's depiction of a wise man being like a tree firmly planted by the water. What an inspiring and God-glorifying image! Grounded, flourishing, strong and fulfilled. What more could I ask for in my daughters? (This was also the verse and image I had on our fridge during my entire pregnancy with India. I kept it there as a reminder for when I would worry or get anxious about India's birth so it has special significance in that way as well.)
Olive was due last week and while Dia was five days late herself, this time I find myself far less patient. I have had so little to worry about with this pregnancy (I've been distracted with running, moving, decorating, creating social groups and running my house), I think that my type A worrier has decided to focus on the birth. So while I have no reason to, I worry that Olive will be too late to deliver her in the birth center like we have planned. At 42 weeks we are considered high-risk and may have to go to the hospital for induction and the like. This whole pregnancy I thought for sure I would deliver early. I also was confident that Dia was a boy. Apparently, I am not as in tune I'd like to think!
We had been seeing our naturopathic doctor/midwife throughout these last nine months in preparation for having Olive at home like we did with India. For some reason, though, I never quite had peace with our decision. It wasn't the homebirth itself as much as the connection, or lack thereof, that I felt with our ND. She's a wonderful doctor and I'll continue to see her, but I just knew something wasn't right as far as Olive's birth and the plans we were making. I couldn't explain it, but it kept nagging me. We prayed and even interviewed other midwives, but still, it just wasn't right. We continued seeing our doctor, though, right up until the 37th week. A little bit late in the game, she came back with my results from my Group B Strep test and they showed elevated cultures--meaning we had to make a new game plan. Now, to be fair, this doctor did not handle this situation very well. I'm sorry, but she just missed the boat on this one. I had gone in for our regular visit when at the end, she sits down, looks over my chart and says, "Oh, and we have some bad news. Your results came back positive." We sat there dumbfounded. Results? For what? (I had taken the test a few weeks back.) "You have GBS."
"What does that mean?" My husband asked.
"Um, well, the baby could die, she (nodding my direction) could die. It's a big deal. But we'll just get going on (oral) antibiotics and everything will be fine." She pretty much ended our appointment right there and we were so stunned we didn't know what else to say.
Hmm...baby, die and fine. Nope. Those words could not harmonize in my head. The next day the receptionist from her office called to tell me the doctor had left some literature for me to come pick up, take home and read. So I did. I read it on the couch alone while Dia napped. I read the risks of my baby dying from a bacteria I couldn't help prevent. Alone. Weeks before she was due. This created somewhat of a panic situation for me. I just sat there and bawled. And felt completely helpless.
Of course I ran straight to Jesus and just prayed and prayed. We had our company Christmas party that night and my husband was fighting a cold, it was hard to focus and yet I knew I had to keep pushing forward. Thankfully, I am blessed with a dear friend who, as a RN, often has just the expertise I need. She ended up connecting me with a midwife who runs a birth center and in a series of what can only be God-ordained circumstances, Rory and I were sitting with her face to face in less than 24 hours. Having delivered over 2400 babies and given birth to 5 herself, she was just the compassionate, experienced soul I needed. Rory and I knew instantly that we wanted to transfer care to her and we did just that. I would never have planned anything other than a homebirth. We had had a wonderful experience with India's birth at home. But the Lord had prompted me from the beginning that while I would go ahead and make my plans, He would be directing my steps. And here we are. I am still on good terms with our original doctor, but left the birth center for the first time with peace about Olive's birth. I never would have guessed, but I'm just so grateful for every single person at the birth center and how the Lord has been so faithful to us! So far, everyone we have met there is also a Christian and I love being able to talk about the Lord with them.
We are ready, for you, Olive!