I read an article a while back about parenting, and there was a particular passage in it that has stuck with me even months after reading it. It said, “My children are not truly mine. They don’t belong to me; they’ve simply been entrusted to me. They are a gift life gave to me, but one that I must one day give back to life. They must grow up and go away and that is as it should be.” As much as I know this to be true, I always feel a deep pain in my chest and a big lump in my throat every time I recall the quote. Though it may be years away, it’s hard to imagine someday not seeing my little girls every day, especially Mio (at this time) since I’ve already spent three years making so many memories with her. When I feel that pain, I often find myself picking up the camera and just endlessly snapping away, so that I can document and capture every little expression of hers… so that I can look back on it years later when this time is long gone and my memory fails to recall them clearly. Parenting is such a daunting and challenging task sometimes and I constantly find myself wondering about what the future holds, but I want to more fully appreciate and savor the present.
Anyway, here are some photos from one of such afternoons that I found myself continuously clicking the shutter while watching Mio play. She is at such a sweet and fun age right now.
While you may not be mine to keep, I will love you always.
Our long-awaited baby girl is finally here! We’d like to officially introduce the latest addition to our family, Mirei Mirabelle Allen. She was born on Saturday, January 25, 2014 at exactly 9:00am, weighing a healthy 7 lbs 14 oz and measuring 20.5 inches long. We’re already in love!
We’ve been home from the hospital since Sunday afternoon, but have been taking some time to recover and adjust to our new family of four. It’s been difficult to find any time to update the blog (or have any free personal time for that matter) between taking care of a newborn, almost-3-year-old toddler, and my postpartum self, but I did want to pen down Mirei’s birth story details before they got too foggy in my ever-worsening mommy-brain, as well as share about the meaning behind her name since many have asked. As with Mio’s birth story, I can be quite wordy, so I commend you if you get through reading this entire post! These are really more for my own personal documentation, so that I can look back and remember my birth experiences for each of children.
Mirei’s Birth Story
Though Mirei was born on last Saturday morning, I’m going to backtrack to a few nights prior to that to give a full account of my labor experience with her. As I’d mentioned in my last blog post, I was stuck in prodromal labor mode since the previous Friday, when I’d started experiencing contractions on and off for a few days, but Friday had been the most consistent and they had gotten very irregular and scattered the following days. It was not until late Wednesday night (the 22nd) that the contractions came back in what seemed like full force. They kept me up into the early morning hours of Thursday, at which point they were between 3 to 5 minutes apart for three hours and were getting stronger in intensity. I called my OB and she told me to come into the hospital to get checked out. Dan drove me over at around 6am, and we waited in triage as my contractions were now consistently 3 minutes apart. When the nurse checked my cervix, however, I was only 1 cm dilated and 80% effaced. My OB came in and told me that she suspected that I was in early labor, but that it would probably take a while longer as I was only 1 cm and I was still able to talk through my contractions, which showed that they weren’t painful enough to be considered active labor. She said that I had the option to walk around the hospital, but that if we were hoping for a natural birth, she advised that we go home and labor at home until I made more progress because there was no way of knowing how long it would take. She did tell me that she was fairly sure I’d be back later in the day, but that it would just take several more hours for me to go into active labor. Needless to say, I was pretty disappointed, but I didn’t feel as crushed as when I had been sent home from the hospital while in labor with Mio. I knew in the back of my head that being sent home was very much a possibility after having had it happen with Mio, as well as from my experience on Friday night when my contractions seemed very real and consistent but only ended up fizzling out after five hours. Sure enough, after we returned home, my contractions eventually grew further and further apart and then completely stopped around noon on Thursday. I was frustrated but I just tried to get as much rest as I could the rest of the day, because there was no telling when the contractions could start up again.
At around 8am on Friday morning (the 24th), the contractions were back, but were manageable in terms of pain level and were about ten minutes apart for the entire day. They were just annoying in that they were persistent throughout the day, without much of a change in intensity nor spacing — they were uncomfortable enough to prevent me from taking naps, and just wore me out after continuing for the entirety of the day. At around 2pm in the afternoon, I noticed that I’d lost my mucus plug (or had my “bloody show”) so I knew things were in motion and that labor was probably close, but I wasn’t holding my breath. By late that night, I was already drained and in a lot of discomfort from the never-ending contractions — they had been going on for longer than any of my other pre-labor episodes, and I wondered how I was going to get any sleep. Around 11pm, the contractions seemed to bump up a notch and became longer, more intense, and harder to breathe through. They gradually started getting closer together, and Dan had to rub my back and distract me with random conversation to help me through each one. By that time, the contractions were definitely too strong for me to be able to talk through. By around 4 in the morning (now Saturday the 25th), I was close to tears and told Dan that whether the contractions were real or not, I was in too much pain to stay home and that I wanted to go to the hospital so that they could at least give me something to take the edge off. So once again, we headed over to the hospital at dark o’clock on the snowy roads. When they checked my cervix, they found that the baby’s head was very low, but that I was only 2cm dilated. I was in disbelief that I had endured so many tiring hours of contractions and yet had managed to make so little progress in dilating. I thought that dilation would for sure happen a lot faster given that it was my second birth, but apparently not! My OB and nurses asked me what I wanted to do, and I told them that I was just extremely exhausted and in too much pain to sleep. My wishes for a drug-free natural birth were out the window at this point, and I desperately wanted something to help relieve the pain. My OB decided to keep me at the hospital, and she recommended that I get the epidural, which I agreed to. She also told me she was going to give me Pitocin to speed up the contractions and break my water in order to speed labor along. I was admitted to the labor & delivery room around 6am, and had my IV, epidural and Pitocin administered and my bag of waters broken all within the hour, while I continued to suffer through the contractions which were getting more and more difficult to bear with each passing one. The anesthesiologist had some difficulty with inserting the initial anesthetic needles into my back which made things slightly more unpleasant, but by the time the epidural kicked in, I was able to finally breathe and rest for a little while. I was so drained and sleepy, but for some reason still had trouble falling asleep because despite the fact that the epidural had numbed me from the waist down, I could feel the Pitocin doing its work and could feel the pressure from the force of the elevated contractions. When my OB came to check me an hour and a half later (around 8:30am), she looked at me with surprise and told me, “You’re all the way dilated. That was fast!” I had gone from 2cm to 10cm in less than two hours. Dan and I were in disbelief because with Mio’s birth, it took almost 24 hours for me to naturally dilate to over 5cm, and then an additional nine hours from when I got my epidural and Pitocin for me to dilate from around 6cm to 10cm. We hadn’t expected that it would be time for me to push until at least a few hours later! My OB and nurses started scurrying around, getting all their instruments ready to clean and care for the baby, and by 8:50am they started having me push. I was still really exhausted and was worried that I was too drained of energy to push the baby out, but the nurses told me that I was doing well and the OB assured me that she could already see the baby’s head. After ten short minutes of about four rounds of pushing, I saw Mirei’s head emerge, followed by her shoulders, and then the rest of her body just slid out as the doctor pulled her out at exactly 9 o’clock in the morning.
I had forgotten how tiny newborns are at birth, and I just couldn’t get over how small Mirei looked as they cleaned her up to be placed against my chest. I kept repeating, “She’s so tiny!” while my OB and nurses countered, “Actually, she looks to be a pretty solid size for a newborn… of course she will look little compared to your toddler at home!” Her skin had a more purple tone than I remember Mio having at delivery (I just remember Mio being very red, with some extra pigmented blotches from her exit), and her little hands and limbs seemed so delicate and fragile! Dan cut the umbilical cord and we took turns holding our new baby girl. Her facial features were distinctly different from Mio’s — her eyes were wide but not quite as round as Mio’s, her eyebrows had more of an arch, the bridge of her nose seemed taller and her lips more thin and delicate. (A lot of people who have seen Mirei in person and in photos since have mentioned that she looks more like Dan, whereas Mio resembles me more.) Like her sister, her fingernails were already quite long at birth, growing over her fingertips so we immediately put mittens on her so that she wouldn’t scratch herself the way Mio did on her first day of life (she still has a very faint scar from it). When the nurses took her from us to measure her, they confirmed that she was a “solid” baby at 7 lbs 14 oz and 20.5 inches tall (which is an ounce heavier and half an inch shorter than her older sister). I got to nurse her in the delivery room, and she proved herself a natural! We got to spend a little over an hour after delivery in privacy, and Dan ordered a large breakfast for us which we enjoyed with little Mirei sleeping in our arms.
While this was not my first go-around with childbirth, the wonder of seeing a living, breathing baby emerge from your own body is so breathtaking and incredible, and it’s something that I imagine you never get used to, even if you’ve witnessed and experienced it before. I was in awe all over again, to see my baby girl who I had waited so long to meet. After a particularly challenging pregnancy and the drawn out pre-labor that I had gone through this time around, it made our first meeting all the sweeter. All my fatigue and pain just seemed to melt away in those first moments of seeing and holding Mirei, and I temporarily forgot all about the misery of my drawn-out on-and-off labor from the past week. I may not have had the “I am woman, hear me roar!” drug/intervention-free natural birth experience that I had been hoping to have this time around, but I still felt such an overwhelming pride and joy for this new life that I brought into this world despite all the hurdles that had been thrown our way — I was proud of myself and of baby Mirei for reaching what I feel is the most important goal of achieving a safe delivery that produced a healthy life, and was so thankful for Dan for being such a constant and unwavering support the entire time.
Here’s a video that Dan put together out of the footage he took of Mirei at the hospital and of her homecoming during the first two days of her life:
Behind the Name
Mirei’s name is Japanese, using the kanji (or Chinese characters) 美玲. The first character 美 (mi) means “beauty” and is the same character as the “mi” in the first part of Mio’s name. The second character is 玲 (rei) is a little more complex in the multiple meanings and associations it can have — it can mean the clarity or brilliance of a jewel or gemstone, and it can also mean clarity in sound such as the tinkling of bells ringing through the air. In simpler terms, the letter’s meaning can be summarized to mean “bright and clear,” both in appearance and sound — very much like the meaning of the name “Claire.” The name Mirei had actually been one of our top five choices when naming our firstborn Mio, and I guess we never really forgot about it because it came back again as a strong contender when we were thinking of possible names for our second baby girl. As the name implies, she is our beautiful gem and treasure, and it is our hope that she’ll have that same beauty and clarity in her heart and mind, in her thoughts and actions throughout her life and towards those around her. We also love the sound of the name “Mirei”, and the fact that it’s relatively easy for people to pronounce. There is actually a French name which has the same pronunciation, “Mireille” (think actress Mireille Enos of World War Z fame) meaning “to admire”, so hopefully it won’t be too difficult for the Western tongue… and I’ve heard from my Korean friends that the word/name “Mirae” (also similar/identical in pronunciation) means “future” in the Korean language. We liked that the name, or at least its pronunciation, has sort of a global presence and has different but positive meanings in other languages.
As for the middle name, we wanted to give Mirei a Western name as we did with Mio, and we chose “Mirabelle,” as it’s a girls’ name that I’ve always loved. Like Mio’s middle name “Elise,” it’s a classic, beautiful name that’s been in use for hundreds of years but isn’t super trendy as it’s outside the top 100 baby names. It’s derived from the Latin word “mirabilis” and means “wonderful” or “wondrous beauty.” The name sounds delicate, feminine, and sweet, and it was an easy choice as Dan and I both loved how it sounded and thought it went well with the rest of Mirei’s name.
Thank you for everyone who had been keeping us in your thoughts and prayers and sent positive labor vibes (as one of my close friends called it, “happy labor dust!”) while we were waiting for Mirei, as well as for all the heartfelt congratulatory messages that you sent us after her arrival. We can’t wait for everyone to meet Mirei, and we’re excited about this new chapter in our lives as a family of four.
Maybe it’s because I’m 38 weeks pregnant and am more emotional and mercurial than ever (Yesterday, I had a bout of hysteria when I realized that my engagement ring and wedding band would no longer come off of my swollen finger and that they were cutting off my circulation. Thankfully, after some diligent prodding with soapy water in the shower, I was able to finally get them off and save said finger from the possible disastrous fate of amputation that I so feared)… or maybe it’s because my anxieties are only mounting higher than Mt. Everest along with my burgeoning belly… but watching the following video today made me cry like a baby.
It’s an encouraging compilation of footage of mothers and what they would tell themselves if they could go back to just before their first child was born.