I went with Shannon to see her obstetrician a few weeks ago. The doctor put Shannon’s due date as November 21st, but started asking when the most convenient day would be to have the baby. I thought that was a little odd, but given that Shannon’s doctor was seven months pregnant herself, maybe she needed to have things a little better scheduled. And since the uncertainty of the baby’s sex has been a little hard (we didn’t peek), we thought it might be nice to have a definite due date. After all, that allowed me to plan when I’d be away from work, when a meal from the Relief Society might be nice, and who would be available to watch Ethan and Gerrit. So we picked Thursday, November 17. But in spite of that early planning, things were still a bit chaotic as the day drew near.
We expected to hear from the hospital Wednesday evening telling us when to come in the next day, but by 8 PM, we finally decided to call. The nurse in labor and delivery said that Shannon was a ways down on the list, so she might not make it in for Thursday. She suggested we call sometime in the afternoon to see if there was time late in the day, but Shannon’s doctor would have to reschedule if it didn’t happen on Thursday.
We weren’t sure if Shannon’s doctor would even be available again until Monday if we had to reschedule, and all our carefully laid plans started to unravel, not the least of which was Shannon’s vow to never wear her maternity dress to church again.
Thursday morning we were getting the boys ready for school, and I was getting geared up to go into work for at least the morning when the hospital called and asked if we could be there in an hour. At that point we had all the spontaneity of the beginning of natural labor instead of induction. We rushed to get the boys out the door, got some quick showers and made it to the hospital just a few minutes late.
While there, we discovered that our neighbors from down the street, the Biggs’, were also there to have their baby. When things calmed down a little the next day, we got to visit with them from two rooms down.
After some read-aloud Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, some TV talk shows, drowsy waiting, a semi-successful epidural, and a little pushing, our baby girl was born at 3:02 PM. She weighed 8 lbs 13 oz, was 19 inches long, and was beautiful.
I noticed pretty quickly that she shared something in common with Ethan — she’s tongue tied. We were so worried about that when Ethan was born, but this time we just chuckled. We knew Ethan would be disappointed that the baby wasn’t another brother, but at least they had this little quirk in common. When the pediatrician said that he could clip the frenulum, we decided not to since it hasn’t ever been a problem for Ethan, and we didn’t want to take away that potential bonding trait.
Gerrit, who absolutely loves babies, was happy to have a sister. In fact, we need to figure out a way to get him to back off a little without deflating his enthusiasm. Sometimes his patting, touching and kissing can be a bit overwhelming.
Afton meets her brothers
Nov 17, 2005
We named our girl Afton Laurie Smith. Shannon had come across the name Afton somewhere recently and liked the sound of it. I had known a kind woman in our ward named Afton Smith when I was little, so that was a little strange to consider my daughter having the same name. But I had also sang Flow Gently, Sweet Afton with a choir several years ago, which is a traditional Scottish folksong with words written in 1791 by poet Robert Burns:
Sweet Afton
Flow gently, sweet Afton! amang thy green braes,
Flow gently, I’ll sing thee a song in thy praise;
My Mary’s asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
Thou stockdove whose echo resounds thro’ the glen,
Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den,
Thou green-crested lapwing thy screaming forbear,
I charge you, disturb not my slumbering Fair.
How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills,
Far mark’d with the courses of clear, winding rills;
There daily I wander as noon rises high,
My flocks and my Mary’s sweet cot in my eye.
How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below,
Where, wild in the woodlands, the primroses blow;
There oft, as mild Ev’ning weeps over the lea,
The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me.
Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,
And winds by the cot where my Mary resides;
How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave,
As, gathering sweet flowerets, she stems thy clear wave.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, amang thy green braes,
Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays;
My Mary’s asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
The name “Shannon” is after another British river, and along with the phonetic similarities between the two names, choosing “Afton” really felt like naming our daughter after her mother.
Afton’s middle name is from another Scottish folksong by William Douglas and Lady John Scott:
Annie Laurie
Maxwellton braes are bonnie
Where early fa’s the dew
And it’s there that Annie Laurie
Gied me her promise true
Gied me her promise true
Which ne’er forgot will be
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I’d lay me doon and dee
Her brow is like the snowdrift
Her neck it’s like the swan
Her face it is the fairest
That e’er the sun shone on
That e’er the sun shone on
And dark blue is her e’e
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I’d lay me doon and dee
Maxwellton braes are bonnie
Where early fa’s the dew
And it’s there that Annie Laurie
Gied me her promise true
Gied me her promise true
Which ne’er forgot will be
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I’d lay me doon and dee
Like dew on the gowan lying
Is the fa’ of her fairy feet
And like wind in summer sighing
Her voice is low and sweet
Her voice is low and sweet
She’s a’ the world to me
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I’d lay me doon and dee
Maxwellton braes are bonnie
Where early fa’s the dew
And it’s there that Annie Laurie
Gied me her promise true
Gied me her promise true
Which ne’er forgot will be
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I’d lay me doon and dee
Afton sweetly sleeping
Nov 18, 2005
Of course, in spite of poetry and connection to her mother’s name, Afton Laurie still holds some wonderful teasing potential. Shannon suggested that if she were heavy she’d be Af-ton. I suggested “half-ton lorry”. But then, Gerrit is kind of fond of “Gerrit the Ferret” for himself, so maybe it is best to laugh together about taunting potential so that the sting of mean kids later on is quelled by such obvious lack of imagination. The boys also had a terrible time remembering “Afton”, so they variously called her Aspen, Ashton, or Ethan’s favorite, Aspirin. I think they’re getting it down now.
Shannon and Afton came home from the hospital Friday night. They both seemed to be doing well, so Shannon didn’t feel like spending another night alone, away from home and family. Sleep was a rare commodity that night since Shannon’s milk hadn’t fully arrived and Afton wasn’t so happy about that. We found ourselves a wee bit unprepared. While we had some formula we could feed her, our bottles left over from Gerrit’s infancy were kind of gross. (Did you know that Wal-Mart’s parking lot still has 50 or 60 cars in it at 3:30 AM? I think most of those were people stocking shelves, but I wasn’t the only customer there.) A couple of ounces of formula smoothed things out for the rest of the morning and the next night as well.
Things are going well so far. Of course, I’m off work and Grandma and Grandpa Fearnley have just joined us. I suppose the shock will be a bit bigger when we’re trying to get back to something like our normal schedule on our own. But its wonderful to have our sweet Afton.
Hanging out
Nov 21, 2005
🙂