Myla Rey Huenefeld

We spent the last days of my pregnancy doing all things boy. That meant playing with frogs and hunting all the animals he "saw" in our yard. 

My last day of pregnancy!

I was scheduled for an induction at 6:30 AM, Monday, May 16th. It was a strange feeling, knowing when we'd be having the baby. We spent Sunday resting and enjoying some time at home with just the three of us. I hadn't been sleeping in our bed for several nights, I couldn't get comfortable and found the couch to do the trick. James and I both camped out in the basement that evening and surprisingly I slept hard... that is until I woke up to a contraction at 1:45 AM. It wasn't unusual to wake up to a contraction or two, so I quickly fell back asleep, but was woke up to another one shortly after. I decided to check the time, in case I had any more, I'd know how close together they were. These contractions were strong enough to where I was really uncomfortable, but not necessarily in tremendous pain. Then I woke up to the third one a little before 2:00. I flopped off the couch and was on my hands and knees breathing hard in pain. This woke James up and after it passed, I decided to go use the bathroom and wait up to see if I would have another one. Four minutes later I had another one, just as strong. I hollered for James that he needed to start getting his things together. After that, I was having them every 2-3 minutes, and they were strong. Thankfully Ashton was already prepared to have Trevin the next morning, but I did go in and let her know we were leaving a little earlier than expected. 

We were loaded in the car by 2:15, called the hospital to let them know we were coming, and we were off. James was trying to be comforting, but he couldn't stop smiling. He was thrilled that I was going on my own and we wouldn't need the induction. I was thrilled too, but I was in too much pain to show it. It was the fastest drive to Grand Island (but felt like an eternity), speed limits did not apply, nor did red lights. Thankfully, it was the middle of the night, so there was practically no traffic. 

By the time we got to Grand Island, I was having contractions just as long as I was having rest in between, every 1-2 minutes. I was able to walk into the hospital and had a contraction in the elevator. A nurse greeted us on the second floor and walked us to our room. It was 2:45. She had so many questions. I had no answers. Somehow I managed to get into a gown and into the bed. I was measuring at 7 cm at this point. She asked if I wanted the epidural and I nodded my head like a sad puppy. Next, she tried to start my IV, but I had another contraction and my vein blew. She went to the other side and was successful. It felt like I was having contractions constantly, my body felt limp in between each one. Because I was going so fast, she checked me again (about 15 minutes after the previous check). I was dilated to 9.5 cm. I looked at the nurse and said pathetically, "Does that mean no epidural?" She said, "No, sorry. But your baby will be here soon!" 

All through my pregnancy I had this creeping feeling that I wouldn't get to have my epidural. I felt like I cheated the curse with Trevin and I was going to have to experience it one way or another. Although, James and I joke that my torn cervix and broken tailbone with Trevin was my punishment for taking the easy route. Well, my fear of a natural childbirth totally happened. I had nothing, nada, no help. I had a cold wash cloth and ice chips, which felt like a luxury at the time. My body was constantly switching temperature on me. I'd have a contraction and be freezing, goose bumps everywhere, and shivering. Then a few minutes later I'd be sweating and wishing they'd throw the ice chips at my face. It switched back and forth several times. 

When I had Trevin, I remember saying that it wasn't anything like the movies. It was intense, but there was no screaming or thrashing around. It was so painful, but I felt in control. (Thanks to the epidural.) But this, my friends, was straight out of a Hallmark movie. I was yelling. I was crying. I was shaking. I was throwing myself around. I was not calm. It was unlike anything I can describe. My body was controlling me. 

They had paged my doctor, but she didn't respond. (Fun fact, my doctor didn't deliver either of my babies! At this point, I should just rotate my appointments between all the doctors, so I can at least learn their names before they deliver my babies. Nothing like saying, "Oh hi, nice to meet you. Look I'm crowning!") They paged another doctor but it wouldn't matter. I started to feel the urge to push. At this point, all three nurses surrounded me and tried to instruct me not to push. Remember how I said my body was in control? Yeah, it totally took over and started to push. I did my best to try and hold back and breath through 3-4 contractions of needing to push. Then I had the most intense contraction of the entire labor, James looked down and said, "Oh my." Apparently her head was half out. The nurses looked at each other and said, "What should we have her do?" I heard one say the most beautiful words, "Go ahead and push." I think there was a choir of angels in the room singing, "Hallelujah! Hallelujah!" Well, maybe not, but I was certainly thrilled. I seriously gave one big push and her head was out. The nurses squealed and said, "She's still in her sack!" My water never broke and was still intact as she came out. She was tangled in the cord pretty good, but it all happened so fast that they weren't able to monitor her through the pushing. I gave on more push and our baby was born. The sack broke as her body came out, but the nurses thought that it was incredible. (Later they said it was a good thing that my water didn't break at home or in the car, because I may not have made it. CAN'T EVEN THINK ABOUT THAT. Nope. Also, James needs to go to midwifery school before we can get pregnant again. Just in case.) 

The doctor showed up a few minutes later and delivered the placenta. I had 2 small exterior tears that he stitched up. My cervix was fully intact and my tailbone seems to have survived another delivery. I was up and moving shortly after. I walked to the bathroom without assistance and felt great. When I sat down I started to feel a little dizzy, so I thought I'd pull the call light just in case (After I delivered Trevin, I passed out when I used the bathroom for the first time.) The next thing I remember was those magic alcohol swabs under my nose, and I was awake. Apparently I just pass out after I have a baby, it's kind of a tradition. Beyond that, my recovery has been much easier this time around! 

When I was in labor, I remember thinking that the nurses seemed a little frantic. Like they weren't really prepared or organized. After they delivered our baby, I asked them how often they have to do that. They looked at each other, laughed, and said, "Well tonight, we're two for two!" They had just delivered another baby who came just as fast as ours! No wonder they seemed a little preoccupied! They did such a good job. I couldn't have asked for it to go any better. (Except maybe being able to push right away!)

Myla Rey Huenefeld was born at 3:30 AM, May 16th, 2016. She weighed 8 lbs 3 oz, 20 3/4 in. The nurses delivered her and placed her on my stomach. There's no words for that moment. Love is literally born. In one instant, your heart is gushing with joy. James grabbed my phone and recorded the first minutes of Myla's life. I watch it over and over again, because that emotion can't be duplicated. There's no way to replicate it. She had a couple bruises, on her face and ear, from "flying out" as the nurse put it. 

Trevin was able to come meet her just a few hours later. He was so excited. He wanted to hold her and managed to steal her away from several people throughout the morning. Half-a-dozen times he asked if we could take her home. He wore a huge smile all morning, beaming with pride. We had a hard time when it was time for him to go. He didn't want to leave, causing a tantrum in the parking lot. He's been so sweet to her and an awesome helper at home. He runs the swing, retrieves the pacifier, and grabs diapers; don't even try to mess with his jobs. We've loved watching him in his new role. 

Practically everything was opposite from how it was with Trevin. Trevin was a surprise, Myla was planned. Trevin was a week early, Myla was a week late. Trevin was a long labor, Myla was a short labor. Water broke early with Trevin, water never broke with Myla. I had an epidural with Trevin, all natural with Myla. Interior tear with Trevin, exterior with Myla. Trevin broke my tailbone, Myla didn't add to the damage. Trevin struggled nursing, Myla picked it up immediately. I guess what I'm saying is, I thought I knew what to expect, but that was the biggest assumption I've ever made! 

The story behind her name: 

Myla: When I found out I was pregnant, I downloaded a baby name app and did a little searching. I had a list of 6-8 girl names that I liked and I read them off to James. Instantly Myla stood out to him and we both were sold. I think this was within a week of finding out. We decided to sit on it and see if it stuck. When we found out we were having a girl, we were even more convinced that we wanted the name Myla. We knew that the name meant "merciful". It seemed sweet and thoughtful, but that's all the more we'd thought about the meaning. Until February, when our lives were flipped upside-down. I was going through some crazy emotions. I remember desperately wishing that she wouldn't be born. Don't read this wrong. I longed for my baby and wanted so badly to see her face, to meet her, to know her. BUT, I felt like she was safe where she was. I felt like I could protect her inside. I didn't want her to experience the pain of this world. I wanted her to be innocent in all of this. Then I was reminded of the meaning of her name. 

It was so obvious that God was at work. We realized that God had named her long before we did. He knew we'd need her as a reminder for how to respond to our life's circumstance. He gave her as a relief from the suffering we'd experienced. She was so much a part of His plan for our family. She's already living out God's purpose for her. How cool is that? 

Rey: We've known for a while that we've wanted to use it for our first girl's middle name. It's in honor of my dad whose middle name is Ray. We wanted to give it a more feminine spelling and tossed around using Rae. And then the new Star Wars movie came out... (I wish that I was embarrassed about this, but I'm not..) I shouldn't have to explain this, but the main character is named Rey and she was pretty awesome with the force. James suggested we copy the spelling. Rey means king. I didn't know if that was weird having my little girl's name mean king, but that made her full name mean "merciful king". To us, there was no truer testament from the past 6 months. It was decided. And that's how Myla Rey was chosen. (Also, my dad was grateful that we didn't use Berdon. He's ok to let that one die with him.) 

My cousin's wife, Emily, has been dabbling in photography. She offered to come take some photos of us in the hospital and I was thrilled! Those are some of the most special moments and I knew I would be too exhausted to capture them. I'm lucky to call her a friend and the pictures were incredible! I'm so proud of her improvement in such a short time, and I'm happy to pass the family photographer baton to her! 

Here's a few of my favorites. 

Our room over looked the parking lot, so we were able to people-watch all day. 

This one makes me tear up. This was when he didn't want to leave. 

She had the most cracked hands and feet. Apparently she baked a little too long in the oven. 

James is totally smitten with her. He has called her "perfect" at least 100 times. Many times, I've caught him snapping pictures of her on his phone. He holds her any chance he gets, meaning he changes a lot of diapers when he's home. I don't think he's stopped smiling since seeing her for the first time. He kisses her constantly and tells her how pretty she is. It's so sweet. I think I might have been replaced as the girl he loves most; it's certainly a much tighter race than before. But I love to watch him look at her with real life heart-eyes. 

Headed home! 

We've had several visitors in the first week. I'm not going to lie, I've loved showing her off! Our church brought us meals for the first week, and we've had many other friends and family drop off food and gifts. Words cannot describe how thankful I am. We're surrounded by the most amazing people. Thank you, thank you, thank you! 

My friend, Paige, was due 3 weeks after me. I went a week late, she went a week early, so our baby girls are 1 week apart! Myla looked like a chub next to little Blayke (5lbs 13oz). We went to visit them in the hospital and it was a strange feeling walking through those doors again. Glad that our little friend arrived safely! 

My last bump picture at 42 weeks! 

Myla has been a rockstar since Day 1. She nursed immediately and hasn't seemed to have any trouble since. She does swallow loads of air, so she needs to burp constantly. I think I've had to burp her more in the past week than I did Trevin in the first 2 months. But that's generally the only time she cries, so I can't complain. So far, she seems to be a really content baby. The past couple days, she's been so smiley, not necessarily at us, but a lot of reflex smiles! When she's awake, she's really alert and loves to look around. She already does several good stretches of sleep for us at night, which makes ALL the difference. She loves her swing and takes a pacifier with ease. She's done a bottle a couple times and had no trouble switching back to me. It all sounds like a dream come true, and she is. (Easy second baby for the win!)

We are crushing so hard over her. Totally obsessed. 

I'm hoping to snap a few newborn photos yet this week. They change so fast!

These two bring endless joy to our home. It's been one of the best weeks of our lives. We're cherishing these first days, knowing that they pass so quickly. 

Welcoming Myla Rey, growing on the farm...