Bodhi's Story

Bodhi (Boh-dee)is a Buddhist principle meaning spiritual awakening or enlightenment, Asher means blessed. As it's happened, I am both.

Cumulatively, I have stared at this blank page, the cursor blinking at me impatiently, for hours. Emotions tumble through me as I think of Bodhi’s birth – but no words for me to put down on paper. I realized that I’ve never really typed out a “birth story” for any of my children, and this is probably why. Where in the world do you find the words to tell such a special story?? I’m not sure that anyone knows how difficult this pregnancy was for me. The stress of so many unknowns weighed on my heart daily; tears randomly filled my eyes as I’d drive to my weekly doctor appointments or as I lay awake at night. At about 20 weeks pregnant the panic set in, and around 27 weeks – I became completely neurotic. Every day I waited for him to come. Every day I was sure was THE day. At 30 weeks a test came back positive suggesting that he would be born in the next 2 weeks. I quit my job (again) and filled my days with over analyzing every single thing my body did. 32 weeks came and went, and then 34. It was so bizarre to have zero idea of when I’d give birth! On March 30th I was admitted to the hospital overnight for reduced fetal movement. We went home the next day and then the morning of April 1st I started having contractions. We got to the hospital at about 6pm and played a long game of “hurry up and wait” as I and everyone else tried to decide if I was in true labor or if the contractions would die off. I was still 4 weeks away from my due date, so we were hoping for the “die off”. I have to admit, my mood was pretty foul. Right off the bat every intervention I didn’t want was being laid on the table and my sour attitude put us off to a pretty bad start with my nurse. Midnight rolled around and I could feel things starting to change. Going home didn’t seem like a viable outcome anymore. At 1:17am I felt that familiar “pop” of my water breaking. I paged for my nurse while silently screaming in my head “HOLY CRAP, HE’S COMING TONIGHT!” As I stood up, we were surprised to find that the baby had had a bowel movement. Meconium staining isn’t very common in preterm pregnancies and is definitely a sign of fetal distress. I felt my own stress level rise as the logical side of me ran through possible outcomes with this new information. I could see my nurse doing the same. Everything happened so quickly after this moment, that it’s hard to keep it straight. The baby’s heart rate would drop very low after every contraction (bad) and the contractions were coming ridiculously hard and fast (double bad). There were suddenly tons of people in our room, with more being called. The nurses flipped me back and forth on the bed, trying to keep a read on the baby and bring his heart rate back up. The perinatologist came and we were told to suit up for a c-section. He said that my doctor had been called, and they’d try to wait for her as long as the baby didn’t get worse. It’s weird the way I handle difficult situations. I took in the doctors and nurses words as though I was an uninvolved 3rd party standing in the room. Listening like the words meant nothing to me personally. I was afraid to look at Matt and lose the grip on my cool. I remember telling him to text my mom and that was it. If I could keep my emotions out, I could handle this. I just wanted everyone to stop talking to me and I knew that wasn’t going to happen. The perinatologist came back and said I was progressing so quickly that the surgery might not be necessary. It felt like moments later and then my doctor was there. And then I was pushing…and then at 3:05am, he was here. You’re so conditioned to wait for this big healthy wail when a baby is born, but I’d never heard it before. And then I did. This hot wet little thing was placed on me, and he was screaming and every coherent thought left my head. …..!.....!.........!....!.........!..... I could hear the things people were saying, nuchal cord, short cord, meconium, and “oh my gosh you did it!!” but all I could focus on was that cry. It was surreal. Again, like watching from outside my body because all by myself, I wasn’t capable of carrying the emotion. It’s so overwhelming to get to experience something you’ve wanted to badly. Not necessarily the vaginal birth, but what that meant for me and my son – the things that came with it that made me covet it so much; those moments with him lying on my chest, being able to hold him before anyone else, seeing his face so close to mine in those first moments. I saw both Faith and Ethan in pictures before I was ever able to actually see their little bodies. What a pitiful way to meet your baby. With the exception of my tubal ligation, right on my chest is right where he stayed for the remainder of our hospital stay. The nurses kept telling me to take advantage of the nursery at night so I could get some sleep. I know they were confused by my crooked smile as I politely declined. I never bothered to tell them why the idea sounded like complete insanity to me. It was all I could do to follow their “no co-sleeping” hospital policy, choosing instead to lie awake and watch him sleep for as long as my tired eyes would allow. And then, 3 little tiny days later, that beautiful baby came home with me. It’s hard to believe that this journey is over. In so many ways I feel like it started 5 ½ years ago with 2lbs and 12oz of determined baby girl. And so, this is my story. They are my story, and not a single thing about any of them could make me more proud. These 3 children have so deeply rooted love, hope and appreciation in my soul that I’ll never be the same. Thank goodness for that.


Bodhi Asher April 2nd, 2011 6lbs 2oz 19 3/4in