Monday, May 16, 2016

Owen Douglas Evans blessing May 15, 2016

These are my people and I love them. Jessie Evans

Love my people!! So glad I have them in my life. It was a wonderful day at Owens baby blessing. Rylie Dunaway

Courtany, Hyrum, Gray and  Lindsey Turnner thanks for the cousin support. 

When we start to recognize all things we have to be grateful for in our lives, we can't help but be happy. The moment we begin to count our blessings, everything becomes a bonus instead of an expectation. Blessing day for Owen Douglas Evans. What a beautiful day and I am grateful.




Yummy food fresh fruit and quiche. 

Today was a special day for our family. In church, we gave Owen a name and blessing and then after we gathered with friends and family to enjoy good conversation and food. And then we took this picture and I had an "oh my gosh I have four kids" moment.



Tom and Cheryl were able to come for Owen's blessing.

What a blessing it is to be a Grandma and watch them be blessed. I am grateful for my faith in The Lord Jesus Christ. Grateful to my family and the joy they are to me. Here is Owen's birth story written by Jessie. Taken from her blog.


Owen Douglas Evans Birth Story

March 17th  5 lb 19 Inches



On March 17 at 2:43 I sent Jason a message on Skype asking him to come home around 4. He replied and asked if I needed him earlier and I told him, “Ian’s asleep and the other two are watching a movie so I’m okay, but still having painful contractions and can’t fully help with the kids when they need me. I’m doing my best to keep baby in.”

When the kids woke me up that morning, I noticed I was experiencing contractions. Nothing unusual, I figured, I have Braxton Hicks contractions on a regular basis through most of my pregnancies, so I wasn’t alarmed. Except, I was feeling these contractions more in my back, similar to when I went into labor with Norah. And they were coming on a semi-regular basis. Fortunately they weren’t painful, and I hardly noticed them. I made a joke to Jason about how “we might be having a baby today!” And went about getting started on the morning routine with the kids. After being the most sick I ever remember being and bed-ridden for almost a full week with influenza A, I was excited to get back to the land of the living.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t rid myself of these pesky contractions. I tried drinking water, lying down, and getting in the bath. My bath was cut short by an invasion of little people who took the bath from relaxing to rolicking in 10 seconds flat. I sent Jason off to work and attempted to function as a normal human, but it wasn’t going great. I was still pretty weak from the flu, dealing with an intense cough, and my contractions (though super painful) were coming every 10-15 minutes. I got Norah and Clayton settled in with a movie and Ian down for a nap and decided to try taking another bath. I messaged Jason at work asking him to come home at four, set my laptop up near the tub and started watching Gilmore Girls on Netflix. Rather than slowing down the contractions, they became more frequent, more intense, and more annoying. I was so not ready to have a baby.
When Jason walked in the door around 3:30 I nearly cried tears of joy. He went downstairs to watch the movie with Norah and Clayton and Ian (who had woken up the second I got in the tub) and I continued to rest. I texted Jason at 4:02 and asked him to come upstairs. He didn’t reply. I texted him again at 4:15 again asking him to come upstairs. Jason came upstairs to find a very distraught wife sitting on the bed.
I always laughed when people said “Oh, I could never not find out the gender when pregnant. I’m too much of a planner.” I’m about as much of a type A planner as it gets. Not knowing the gender doesn’t make it any harder to plan, but you know what really makes things hard to plan? Babies being born 3 ½ weeks early.
Jason convinced me we should maybe start packing the hospital bag. I texted my former labor and delivery nurse and second mom Rachel asking her if she thought I would still be able to get an epidural, because apparently, having the flu disqualifies you from being eligible for an epidural. Which is all fine and dandy if you’ve prepared to go natural, but I had not. My birthplan goes like this: Epidural ASAP. And, that’s it.
We started throwing stuff into the bag. Jason packed his things, I was too distracted with contractions to do much other than say “yes” or “no” to what Jason was packing for me. I still wasn’t convinced this could be it, mostly because it wasn’t the plan. I wasn’t ready. I had hair appointments scheduled, I had plans to get a pedicure, a massage, and a brazilian wax. I needed to schedule sitters for my kids and someone to clean my house while I was at the hospital. We didn’t have a name picked. I hadn’t yet purchased a coming home outfit. We had no idea where this baby was going to sleep. This wasn’t the plan. Or rather, this wasn’t MY plan. But as the contractions kept coming, I knew this was it. I turned to Jason and asked him to give me a blessing. It was the most perfect blessing, blessing me with strength and courage and letting me know how much Heavenly Father loves me and this baby.
I gave my mom a call and let her know that we were heading to the hospital to get checked. My mom had a house full of people because the next day was the start of a two-day extended family reunion for her side of the family, so the timing wasn’t ideal for her either, but she headed over to watch the kids.
At this point, my contractions were coming every five minutes and lasting about a minute each. And they hurt. The short drive to the hospital seemed forever and the walk from the parking lot to the entrance was my personal gauntlet. We arrived at the hospital at 6:20. The nurses at the front desk started asking me questions and after the first question or two, I was in too much pain to answer.  A nurse appeared with a wheelchair, and took me back to a room to be checked while Jason finished checking me in. I quickly changed into my hospital gown, the nurse hooked up the heart and contraction monitors, and checked to see how dilated I was. I was measuring at a 4+. My labors are extremely fast once they get going, and I knew a 4+ meant this baby was coming, and coming fast. This was my third pregnancy testing positive for Group Beta Strep, which is treated with two rounds of antibiotics during labor. The antibiotics take around 4 hours for both doses, which was not going to happen for me. We quickly informed the nurse that I was Group B positive and that we needed to start the antibiotics asap. Of course, she needed to call my doctor and get his permission to admit me, so she left Jason and me waiting. My contractions were becoming more and more painful and more and more frequent and I was begging Jason to make it stop. When the nurse came back (after what felt like an eternity) she said she had talked to Dr Judd and he had said, “but she’s not due yet!” I know, Dr Judd, I know. My thoughts exactly. But, because I was very clearly in active labor, I was admitted and they put me back in the wheelchair to take me to my room.
One major perk of going into labor over being induced is, placing my IV is no big deal. I have a HUGE needle-phobia, but when I’m too busy trying to cope through contractions, I don’t even notice needles and IV’s. So, in goes the IV to get the antibiotics started and all I can think about is, “where is my best friend the epidural man?” And in he walks! Ryan informs me that he sped the whole way to the hospital, and even sped past a cop but didn’t get pulled over. “Jesus must really love you,” he said. With my epidural placed, I could finally relax and embrace that this was really happening.
At my last doctor’s appointment, I told Dr Judd my biggest fear was not having him deliver my baby. It’s really my fault for saying it out loud and jinxing myself. On call for Dr Judd was Sue, a nurse midwife who was actually perfect for the situation. I was a nervous wreck. This baby was 3 ½ weeks early, and I was Group B positive and wasn’t going to be able to get the full antibiotics dosage. Sue was so motherly and calming.
I quickly progressed to almost complete and Sue asked if she could break my water. As she was checking me before she planned on breaking my water, my water broke and there was meconium in the fluid, which is not a good sign. Sue quickly assembled the team saying this baby needed to come now, and that for my sake she hoped it was a girl because they do so much better with potential respiratory issues.
The delivery team quickly got into position, and so did I. Because of all the potential health risks this baby faced, I wasn’t going to be able to hold my baby right away, but the plan was to place the baby on my stomach for a second while the cord was clamped and cut. I pushed through two contractions, and at 9:20 baby was born! I was so focused on the health of the baby, I forgot for the moment that we didn’t know the gender. “It’s a boy!” Jason said in surprise, I couldn’t believe it. This pregnancy had been much more similar to my pregnancy with Norah that I was thinking we were going to have a girl. After a brief moment of admiring him while Jason cut the cord, he was whisked away by the respiratory therapist. Sue immediately distracted me from the situation as she stitched me up. As much as I wasn’t thrilled about going into labor 3 ½ weeks early, on St Patrick’s Day, Sue kept reassuring me that this baby came now for a reason. Given the meconium in the amniotic fluid and the condition of the placenta (It looked like it had been shredded and was starting to detach), my sweet little baby may not have done well for much longer.
Because I still had to be stitched up and taken care of, and couldn’t really move, and my baby boy had to be on a CPAP machine and all sorts of IV’s and monitors, I wasn’t able to see him for about an hour. Jason went into the level 2 nursery with him and the nurses and (praise modern technology!) I was able to facetime with them and see everything that was going on. One of my favorite moments was seeing my little guy immediately respond to hearing my voice over the phone. Our little guy is a fighter, and despite all the potential health risks he faced, was completely 100 percent perfectly fine. We didn’t have a name picked out, and didn’t really even have a list of names, but as we threw out name ideas over the next day and a half, Jason looked up the meaning of Owen, which means little warrior, and we immediately knew it was perfect for him.

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