We welcomed our second baby girl, Wynnie Mae into the world last Monday, May 11th at 12:27pm. She weighed in at 8 lb 7 oz, 21 1/4 inches, which are shocking statistics given her older sister’s 5lb 15 oz (although Wynnie had an extra 2 weeks of growing time!)
Wynnie’s arrival was a stark contrast to Evie’s (which I wrote about here), and in many ways, it was very much of an ideal birth experience for me, in as much as I could hope for one.
My doctor and I decided that a planned c-section was the way to go. The practice is supportive of women choosing to do a VBAC if the correct cocktail of circumstances presents themselves. Turns out, I was a good candidate since I had never actually gone into labor with Evie, but after discussing the options and weighing the pros and cons both from a physical health standpoint for me and baby, but also a mental health standpoint for myself, this was the best choice. I will share that when the doctor asked if I was thinking VBAC or scheduled c-section, my response was “What is option C?” Neither one is particularly appealing, and if you ask me, while bringing a child into the world is an incredible miracle and experience, there is nothing glamorous about it.
I was particularly thankful when my delivery date arrived because not only had I made it without going into labor, but I had also made it without a relapse of the preeclampsia that I had suffered from with Evie. And by making it to that date, I was able to plan and prepare – something that is a rare luxury when it comes to pregnancy and delivery, and something I considered to be a part of my ideal birth plan.
For me, planning meant the following:
Parents arrived the night before in order to stay with Evie while we were at the hospital. Evie absolutely adores her Gaga and Green Run/Grandad, so I didn’t worry one bit about her.
I spent the weekend pampering myself with a prenatal massage, mani-pedi, and a blowout so that Wynnie would be really impressed when she first saw her mama. Poor Evie probably arrived and was like “Are you serious? Ew.” I even did my makeup that morning, and I think it really helped me approach the day as a happy event (which it obviously is) rather than a scary surgery.
I emailed our Monsignor who met us at the hospital prior to surgery to pray with us and administer the sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick. At first, this may seem like a morbid act: to have a priest arrive to the hospital and bless you in the event that something goes wrong, but it actually brought me incredible comfort and peace that if you ask the hub, is highly unlike me when it comes to anything medical.
Otherwise, things went according to plan, again, something that is a rarity when it comes to delivery. I did nearly faint when they drew blood (but I blame that on the no eating/drinking policy), but apart from that, was really thankful for the calm morning leading up to surgery. I had the nicest nurse on earth prepping me for surgery, and an incredible surgical team that you get to know since you are awake and hanging out with them for a good 35-45 minutes. For example, I can tell you all about my Dr.’s daughter, her job prospects, etc. if you’re interested
Meanwhile, we are doing really well at home. I feel like my recovery has been much faster this time, and fortunately having the help of my parents AND the hub definitely helps with that. Evie is warming up to her sister. She is petrified that Wynnie is going to take one of her beloved bunnies, but besides that, can be found either ignoring Wynnie all together or screaming throughout the house “I LOVE BABY WYNNIE!” or “HI, BABY WYNNIE! HI!” I’ll take it.
As for her name, I like to have some reason or justification for how we chose it. First, it was the ONLY name that Ryan and I even remotely agreed upon, which means it must be the right name. But a few things pointed me personally in that direction. First, I came across this website as I searched for “Victorian Era Names” which I tend to like. It listed “Evie” as one of the names, and a bit further down the list we saw “Winnie”. I looked up the meaning of Winnie (because we can’t have any weird meanings) and found “holy peacemaking, gentle friend” which seemed to suit a child of ours perfectly. Another meaning read “fair one; white and smooth”, which for anyone who knows us and our reputations for being pale, also seemed to suit us perfectly. Finally, in the midst of the naming journey, I noticed that a fellow classmate of mine had named her daughter Wynnie with the Y, and that sealed the deal. I felt good that if Wynnie wanted to be CEO of a company one day, she could shorten her name to Wynn to be more professional. But in the meantime, she’s our Wynnie. (I have no explanation for Mae. Ryan liked it since day one, and I thought it went well with Wynnie.)
And there we have it. Family of four. So blessed, so thankful, and already, so so tired.