On September 8th, Ezra David decided to join us earlier than expected. His cesarean was scheduled for two weeks later, with his actual due date being four weeks later.
Early that morning, I began bleeding quite heavily (we learned later the bleeding was caused by a placenta abruption). We hurried to the ER. After some examination and a bit of monitoring of me and the baby, they decided to go ahead with the cesarean. In the words of my doctor, "I don't have much to gain by waiting."
I had already been nervous about Ezra ending up in the NICU with his scheduled cesarean; I was now extra nervous.
The surgery went off without a hitch. The anesthesiologist, nurses, and doctor were wonderful. The hospital even added computer monitors above the surgery table so I could watch what was happening when the nurses took Ezra into the other room to check him out. I missed Peter cutting the chord because of a computer glitch (that Peter ended up fixing. IT guys are never off duty I guess).
He was so tiny when the nurse put him on my chest. I wasn't sure how to hold on to him for a while, but we soon got acquainted.
Even though he was small (4lbs, 9 oz - 18 inches), he didn't lack in strength. He latched on and nursed well with little assistance right from the beginning. For the first several days of his life, Ezra's blood sugar and temperature were low. We were able to keep these in check by feeding every two hours on the dot. The nurses thought he might end up in the NICU or needing formula because of his low blood sugar, but I made it my personal goal to not see either of those happen. A few days before we went home, everything stabilized and they were able to stop poking him in the foot every few hours .
Since then, we've been taking it easy at home ... really only venturing out for church and grocery runs. He's still eating well and sleeping a lot.
We had a really hard time deciding on a name for this little guy. We had a list, but nothing seemed to feel right. Our parameters were twofold: (1) a name beginning with a vowel and (2) a meaning that reflected Peter's prayer for the baby during the entire pregnancy - that his heart would beat for God every day of his life. We were actually avoiding E names for a very long time because we didn't want both boys to start with the same letter; I was positive from the start that we would end up with an O name.
About two weeks before Ezra made his appearance, Peter suggested the name "Ezra." We both liked it a lot. And by this point, we didn't care so much about what letter the name started with. That night, we read through the entire book of Ezra (not a very long book) and decided this was a man our child could share a name with. And, while the name "Ezra" simply means help or helper, we discovered through our reading that the Ezra of the Bible did just what Peter had been praying our little boy would do: have a heart for God as he led Jews from Babylon to Jerusalem, eventually leading Israel to renew its covenant with God.
Ezra's middle name, David, was my grandpa's name. It means "beloved." It makes me smile to know that our son's name means "beloved helper." Beloved by God and us, and hopefully a godly helper to all that he comes in contact with.