Titus Samuel Barth

I've so badly been wanting to sit down and get this out but finding the time and energy (mostly energy) to do so has been almost impossible. It's not that I think anyone is interested in reading Titus' birth story, it's because I want it down on paper before the little details of his arrival start to slip away. To begin, I need to go back...way back...to June 2013. That's right. We started this journey for baby #3 two years ago and unfortunately you can't really plan when you're dealing with infertility. Tripp was conceived on my fourth round of Clomid so I figured we'd start Clomid again in June and I'd be pregnant by September at the latest. Obviously that's not how it happened. My body was resistant to the medication this time around so after four months on it my Dr. switched me to Femara (Letrazol), an anti-estrogen medication most commonly used to treat breast cancer patients (my mom is on it too) that is used off-label to treat infertility. In November of 2013,two months into the Femara not working, my Dr. called to say he couldn't help me any longer and I'd need to see a fertility specialist. That of course was devastating and not something we were prepared to face financially so we took a step back...so far back in fact that I went on birth control because I was bleeding non-stop and that was the easiest way to treat that nasty problem. In April of 2014 we visited a natural healthcare specialist who came recommended by a friend. After a series of blood and saliva tests she put me on a combination of thyroid medication, a variety of vitamins and metphormin, a drug commonly used to treat diabetics as well as overweight women with PCOS. She told me I would be pregnant within three months but instead our house burned down along with all the medicine that wasn't doing a thing for me so I thought "to hell with that." BUT. the fire really put things into perspective and after a little discussion, Parker and I decided that life's too short and if we truly wanted another child, there was no reason to wait so we made an appointment at the Center for Reproductive Health in Spokane. On September 3rd, we met with the fertility doctor, had an ultrasound and blood tests and based off the results, I was able to begin what they call the "Mayo" cycle. The next day I started two letrazol pills a day for five days, had another ultrasound on my ovaries to see if any follicles were developing. I had around 20 in each ovary which was very promising, so my injectibles were overnighted to me from a specialty pharmacy on Oregon and Parker and I gave me shots in my tummy for two days. THEN we went back to Spokane for another ultrasound that showed I had successfully developed two mature egg and was given a shot of HCG in my booty which released the eggs from my ovaries. The nurse gave me a hug and told me to go home and have sex that night and the next, as well as any time in between. So we did...and did again and maybe a couple more times for good measure. Over the next two weeks I absolutely incessantly harassed God with "please God let me be pregnant." The night before I planned to take a pregnancy test, my nurse from the reproductive center called with some very discouraging news. I won't say exactly what but we were left to believe that a pregnancy was highly unlikely. She told me to test any way so at 5am the next morning I did just that...and got a pink line. I immediatly text a pic to my friend in Kansas who had recently struggled with two miscarriages and had just found out she was pregnant again (happy note she has a one month old beautiful baby girl!). She is a pregnancy test expert and immediately confirmed that i was indeed pregnant. Just to make sure we drove an hour to the clinic in Wenatchee and had a quantitative HCG blood test drawn to confirm beyond the shadow of a doubt that I really was pregnant. After what felt like an eternity, my fertility nurse called and confirmed that I was "definitely pregnant!" I cried of course. I'd waited so long to hear someone say that to me. I couldn't believe it. It was September 26th. 23 days after my first trip to a fertility specialist, after almost 18 months of trying everything else, and I was pregnant. God said YES! Fast forward to Sunday, June 7th (I had a very healthy, happy and uneventful pregnancy), I was two days past due and beginning to think that I'd be pregnant indefinitely. My water broke with Luke two days before his due date and I went into labor and had Tripp two whole weeks early so I hadn't mentally prepared myself for being pregnant this long and was really worried that I'd have to be induced. I prayed constantly that God let me go into labor on my own. Anyhow, it was a day like any other day really with no real signs of anything except that I was having Braxton Hicks ALL DAY LONG. Never anything painful but they never really went away either. Funny thing: early the morning before my dad and I were sitting on the couch each doing our own devotion when my dad laughed and read a verse to me out of his morning's Bible study: But God, who comforts the downcast, comforted us by the coming of Titus 2 Corinthians 7:6 We laughed and agreed we'd all be comforted by the coming of Titus! That evening Tripp fell asleep early and Parker took Luke into the pool. I decided to pass on the evening swim just in case I went into labor...I didn't want to have straggly hair and smell like chlorine. I puttered around inside then around 8pm came out to the pool, squatted down and began lecturing Luke about wearing only one swimsuit per day instead of ten. Satisfied with my chastising, I stood up and felt a little...something. A pop, maybe? Wet for sure. It stopped me dead in my tracks and I told the boys I'd be right back and went to the bathroom. There was definitely something and I hadn't wet my pants. I went back out to pool and told Parker "I think my water broke." He immediately yelled at Luke to get out of the pool. I told him to calm down, I wasn't having contractions and wasn't really sure if something was happening or not. Being that we live and hour and fifteen minutes from the hospital he wanted to leave immediately. I took a quick shower, touched up my makeup and loved on Luke, who was clinging to me, a little unsure of what was happening, a bit frightened, poor sweet boy. He needed to take a picture with me before we left. As we were heading out the door I felt a much larger gush and upon inspection, saw that it was blood, which scared me. We pulled out of the driveaway at 8:27pm, leaving Luke and Tripp with my parents who had been with us since May 20th, and pulled into the hospital emergency room lot at 9:27. Parker drove about 80mph the whole way there and needless to say we made it in record time. I got checked in, put on my fancy hospital gown (thanks Katie!) and spent the entire night wide awake laboring. I was dilated to 3 cm when I arrived and my contractions were kind of sporadic, sometimes five minutes apart, sometimes just a couple. I had decided months earlier that this birth was going to be natural and found that standing and swaying through my contractions with my arms around Parker's neck was the most helpful position for me to tolerate the contractions as they became more frequent and intense. The biggest negative to this position was that my legs got really weak and shaky toward the end and my hamstrings eventually trembled uncontrollably. My doctor came in around 7:20am and checked me out. I was dilated to 8cm by then but as it turned out, my water hadn't actually broken. He told me was going to scrub in and come break my water. This was my chance to have any kind of pain meds but my nurse looked at me and said if I had made it to 8 without anything then I could do it. This was what I needed to hear because I was in a lot of pain and with each contraction was finding it hard to not cry. My doctor came back in with what looked like a cross between a letter opener and giant chopstick and broke my water. Almost immediately my contractions went from painful to horribly unbearable. I screamed...I moaned...I made animal-like noises. My doctor came back in the room at one point and said "I heard that down the hall." I looked at Parker and said "why am I doing this?" to which my doctor replied "I don't know why you're doing this..." Pretty soon my animal sounds turned into me screaming "I"m pushing" as the need to push took over. I prayed to God to please get him out of me it hurt so bad. "I see a lot of dark hair" my doctor said and after a couple more pushes out came my beautiful, perfect, screaming, blue baby boy. Titus Samuel Barth was born at 8:03am, weighed 8lb 5oz and was 20.5 inches long.He went straight under my gown up to my chest and I sobbed...ugly face sobbing. Finally. He was here. I was overcome by the intense sense of love I was feeling. Love and happiness. And relief. It took me nearly two hours before I was able to get up out of bed and walk to the bathroom I was still so shaky. Every girl I've ever talked to who'd had a natural birth said they felt great immediately after delivering. This wasn't me. At all. My back between my shoulder blades and all down the back of my arms was horribly sore from holding my legs up and pushing. I popped blood vessels in both eyes from pushing so hard. It wasn't pretty at all but boy was it incredible. It was the hardest thing I'v ever done in my entire life, both physically and mentally and I wouldn't change a thing about it. And I would do it again if God ever gives me the opportunity. I feel so incredibly blessed by God. Three boys. Three awesome boys. I'm so in love with my family and am so deeply aware of how undeserving I am of all this. God's grace. Wow. Nothing but God's amazing grace explains what I've been given. Titus' name came right out of the bible. Last summer before the fire, before we were ever pregnant, Parker and I were doing our nightly Bible study and it happened to be out of the teeny tiny New Testament book of Titus. It was such a deep, pertinent lesson that we really sat up and took notice. Then we both looked at each other and were like...Titus. Cool name. If we ever have another boy we should name him Titus. After months of name deliberation and lots of mind-changing, Titus, which means "defender," was the only name still standing that had any meaning to it so we went with it and LOVE it! We'd chosen a different middle name originally but during the Mother's Day service at church our pastor's sermon was out of 1 Samuel and was about Hannah, who was barren and prayed to God for a child. And in due time Hannah conceived and bore a son, and she called his name Samuel, for she said, "I have asked for him from the Lord." 1 Samuel 1:20 Upon reading this passage I immediately knew we had to change his middle name to Samuel and Parker agreed. So long story not so short, this is how Titus Samuel Barth came to be. Lots of time, trying, praying and crying and now I get to hold another precious baby boy in my arms each day. There isn't a word for how happy I am or how full my heart is. God is SO GOOD. SO GREAT! Here are a few pics taken during and right after Titus' delivery.

This was the picture Luke insisted on taking with me right before we left for the hospital. I know he was frightened by all the hustle and bustle and I felt so bad leaving him in that moment.

Maternity Photos

I always love having maternity photos taken. I think the pregnant body is so special and so temporary that it's important to capture it in pictures. Parker had the idea of using Bear Mountain, another of our family's golf courses that overlooks Lake Chelan and has absolutely stunning views, as the backdrop for our photos. I think they turned out beautifully and truly captured the scenic surroundings at the course as well as our family's love. Of course, thank you to our amazingly talented and patient photographer Rani,

who for the life of me I can't figure out why she keeps agreeing to taking our pics. Hope you enjoy!