To My Child: Born Into a Sinful World

Way back in late March or early April when the year 2020 took a nose dive, I skimmed an editorial entitled “To My Child: Born During Coronavirus and Climate Change”. Honestly, I had no intention of even glancing at something with such a title, figuring the guy didn’t at all share my views on either subject. However, it kept coming up on my phone’s news feed until I finally decided it might be worth a glance.

I’ll confess I mostly skimmed it. It didn’t take a paragraph to realize we did not share the same view on his subject and also didn’t have anything new to say on the matter. Not completely surprising, he felt climate change would damage his new son’s life more than any virus would. Quite surprisingly, he referenced his grandmother quite a bit. Obviously he had loved and respected her greatly, but he didn’t at all agree with her Biblical view of creation. Which is sad, but his grandmother should be applauded for at least planting the seeds.

However, the article made me think. What would I say to the child in my womb about the world she was about to be born in? Fast forward two months when Ellyson was born and the title would be more like “To My Child: Born During Covid, Black Lives Matter Protests, Gay Pride Month and Climate Change”. Or, to put in more succinctly: “To My Child: Born to a World Going to Hell”.

But that’s the reality of the world. One hundred years ago, children were born in the midst of the Spanish influenza and World War I (when my grandfather was born). A mere twelve years after that, when my other grandparents would soon be born, children arrived in the midst of Great Depression and Dust Bowl. A decade later, it was World War II. Fifteen years after that, children went through nuclear bomb raid drills at school and Martin Luther King, Jr. fanned the flames of civil unrest. That wasn’t even over when Vietnam hit and people took to the streets burning flags and protesting just about everything they didn’t like at the moment. There is nothing new under the sun. It doesn’t matter when you are born. Somewhere there is a war. Somewhere there is a virus. Somewhere there is civil unrest. Why? Because we live in a world full of sin.

Here is what I will tell my daughter: When sin entered the world, the world went to hell. We get sick. We don’t get along with our neighbors. And all of creation groans in travail. As long as earth exists, nothing is going to change that. We can live good lives, and we can help lots of people; but we cannot make the world peaceful again. Our only hope is in Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace. And while He will give you peace, and joy, and hope on earth; there will also be wars, and sickness, and trials. Because we are sinners and we live in a sinful world. And because this world is fleeting. Christ will return, and He will create a new heaven and a new earth. And then – finally! – wars will cease, sickness will disappear, and true peace will ensue.

Yes, I wish I could give each of my children a better world, but I can’t. So, I will point them to the Only One who can. 

Who Wore It Best?

When you don’t find out the gender of your baby, you end up with a lot of “gender neutral” clothes. Although, despite the world we live in where people think gender is a “choice”, there are very few items of clothing that are truly “gender neutral”. And, so, when I started packing up Ethan’s clothes as he outgrew them, I separated out the infant clothes into boys and girls. After all, I had both a girl and a boy and saw each of them wear the outfit. In my mind, some were more male than female.

After more than three years, though, I surely didn’t remember all the infant clothes I had let alone which bin I had put which in. So, I was glad to find the little fox outfit in the girl bin. Emry wore it in one of the cutest pictures of her as a infant I had. Then Ethan wore it…and now Ellyson. I’m not sure I can say who wore it best, but it definitely proves the three of them are sibings!

 First: Emry

 Then: Ethan

And Now: Ellyson

Our Hospital Adventure

Nothing is normal these days. Not really. Between viruses, “re-opening”, and civil rights protests…it often makes one wonder what’s going to happen next. And if anything would surprise us anymore.

So, we knew going to the hospital to have Ellyson that it wouldn’t be the same as when I had Emry or Ethan. Everything we would have need of, including the car seat, needed to be brought it. Because not even Ed was being allowed to leave until Elly and I were discharged. In fact, we couldn’t even leave the four walls and a bath of our room. And no visitors. Which meant Emry and Ethan would have to wait to meet their new sister until we got home.

Up front, that doesn’t seem too awful. I was disappointed Emry and Ethan couldn’t meet their sister at the hospital, but they didn’t know the difference. I packed snacks, two books, changes of clothes…there are worse things that 24-hours in a hospital room. Yeah…like 48 hours…or more like 50.

I don’t care how they advertise their comfortable, state-of-the-art rooms for new moms: they are not meant to be lived in for 50 hours straight. Now, we thought we would get out within 24 hours. After all, I was doing good and Elly looked fine. But the pediatrician from hell thought otherwise. She wouldn’t release us until Ellyson’s bilirubin levels were down. Which meant 24 hours turned into 36…which turned into 48….which equaled 50 before we finally got out of our hospital prison.

Perhaps I should not be so sour on the pediatrician, but it’s hard to like someone who waltzes into your room, pokes your newborn child, talks to you like you live on welfare with a third-grade education, won’t tell you anything straight, tells you no one can leave for another 12 hours, and then happily waltzes out as if she just handed you a million dollars. Because that’s what she was like. My OBGYN told me more about bilirubin, jaundice, and what the goal is in raising the levels than the pediatrician did. And she did so in a positive, comforting way. Which was good. Because I had already sat in the bed and cried when they hooked my new daughter into her own personal sauna, wondering what I had done wrong or could do to help her. Which, of course, was nothing but pray everything would turn out okay.

As you can see, the personal sauna thing was a little frightening. She didn’t mind glowing like an electric eel or the foam “glasses” to protect her eyes. But it was heartbreaking seeing her wrapped up like that, hoping her body would warm more and all her systems would kick into working order. Meanwhile, Ed was patiently going stark raving mad locked inside our room, and I was sorely wishing I had grabbed my work computer on the way out the door because I had hours of time on my hands and absolutely nothing profitable to accomplish. Even reading got boring.

By the 48 hour mark, Ellyson was doing very well and we were released! I felt like I had not seen the world in over a month. The grey, rainy sky. The fields of hay blowing in the wind. Even people wearing masks as they entered stores was a glorious sight. There was a world outside the hospital! And as crazy as that world has become, I was happy to be a part of it again. 

What's in a Name?

With everything else in the news these days, you may not have caught the ridiculous name eccentric billionaire Elon Musk and his bizarre celebrity girlfriend Katie Grimes named their new son a few weeks ago. I’d have to look it up to get it right, but let’s just say it looks like a bunch of random letters. In fact, it even included numbers before they discovered that’s not legal in California. And although they claim the name has great meaning, I’m of the opinion they should hire the kid a psychologist now. If he doesn’t need one over his parents, he will need one over his name.

But, you say, “Ellyson” isn’t exactly on the top 100 list for girls names in 2020. And you would certainly be right. Where did we get that name? Well, it started when I was pregnant with Ethan. We were coming up with a girl’s name and I liked “Ellie”. Ed wasn’t too excited about it, so he finally asked if there wasn’t a name we could give her and then call her “Ellie”. I pulled out my list of names I keep for writing purposes and started listing off ones that would work like that. And he liked Ellison. I also liked it, so we agreed. But then we had Ethan and didn’t need a girl’s name after all.

Over three years later, we still both liked Ellison. And until about six weeks ago, I was leaning more towards using the spelling with an “I”. But then I was talking to my dearest friend Allyson, marveling as I always do after talking with her how godly she is and how blessed I am to have her in my life, even if I can’t live next door to her. It has crossed my mind many times that if I had a dozen children, I would eventually name one in honor of her. But as that seems extremely unlikely…well, I could at least get close and spell the name Ellyson. And so we have.

It’s probably no surprise that Ellyson literally means “Son of Ellis”. The name Ellis has two meanings. First, it is English form of the Greek name “Elias” which is a form of “Elijah” and means “Jehovah is God”. It is also a Welsh name which means “Benevolent”. Two meanings I hope she strives to remember and live.

Her middle name is simple enough: Christine. It’s the name I wanted to use should I ever have another daughter and Ed was willing, despite having at least two former girlfriends by that name. Why? It’s the name of my sister who was stillborn almost 36 years ago. I wanted my daughter to have her name in memory of her and as a gesture to my parents. It’s a name I hope Ellyson will treasure of a person who may not have lived long on earth but impacted many people. 

Ellyson Christine. I may be biased, but it really is a pretty name.

Number 3 Arrives!

I guess you could say we’re getting to be pros at this birthing thing, but I’m not sure that’s something you can ever master. If you could, surely there would be a way to get over the pain!

I’ve been having contractions off and on for weeks, so a few on Sunday morning didn’t seem like much. I thought as I had been thinking, “Oh, please, come on! I just want to have this baby!” But no such luck. I tried the same trick I had tried when I had contractions with Ethan on a Sunday morning: pilates. That didn’t do anything. I exercise so much when I’m pregnant, all it accomplishes is lulling the baby in my womb to sleep.

We all had breakfast and then got dressed so we could attend the 11 o’clock service at church. (Coming out of Covid, our church is currently holding two services at limited capacity.) I had one contraction during church, I think when our pastor was telling the story of how his first child was born several weeks early after a morning at church, a shower for his wife and then – surprise! – Liam decided to come. I thought of how similar that was to Ethan and wondered again if this baby would come, but I suspected not.

After talking to some friends after church, we headed home for lunch and I got the kids down for a nap. I stretched out on the couch with a book, intending to fall asleep so I’d have energy to grab something to eat that evening and take the kids to a park to celebrate our anniversary. But then I actually started having more than one or two random contractions. And they were about fifteen minutes apart. So, at 3:30 when it was time to get the kids up, I first went to my bedroom where Ed was stretched out on the bed and told him I didn’t think we’d be going out for our anniversary. Instead, we’d be going to the hospital. He jumped up and started packing.

I had intended, then, to text my mom and tell her to leisurely make her way over to our place to get the kids – no rush. Except now the contractions were more like ten minutes apart. So, I called her. By 4:30, I had the kids packed to go, my mom had arrived and off they went, and Ed had loaded the car. I sat on the couch and waited until the contractions were 5 minutes apart, honestly thinking we were doing fine. We headed to the hospital within the next ten minutes. 

Thankfully we didn’t get pulled over getting to the hospital. Ed ignored speed limits and ran a red light. I didn’t think he really needed to rush as I was doing okay, but he was right. We checked in at 4:57. Ellyson arrived 50 minutes later at 5:47.

I will give those nurses credit. I told the first one I had a history of fast births and she believed me. They got me into the delivery room as fast as they could. The doctor arrived soon after. He asked about my other two births, took my word on them, suited up, and waited…because it took most of those 50 minutes to get an IV in me! He joked that he hoped the birth went faster than getting an IV in me.

It did, although it seemed harder than either Emry or Ethan. And maybe it was. Certainly these first days of recovery have been harder! But it was worth it to see our new precious little daughter. We’re so happy she’s here!

June 7

Six years ago today, we were here:

And today, we were here:

She wasn’t exactly how we planned to celebrate our wedding anniversary, but we are very happy to announce the birth of Ellyson Christine Camus!

6 pounds, 1 ounce – 19 inches

It's June!

Well, it is now June…and still no baby. I know I shouldn’t be concerned as the baby isn’t due until June 13 anyhow, but this pregnancy continues to feel endless. So, I wait.

Perhaps the days also feel endless. We’re adjusting to Ed’s new schedule of being on second shift. The first week was rough. Ethan continues to be confused about what meal he’s eating since lunch is our “big” meal and dinner is more like cheese and crackers or peanut butter and jelly. Sometimes this confusion bleeds into nap time when he thinks I’m putting him down for bed. Maybe he’ll sort it all out eventually.

So, I spend much of the mornings trying to make sure the kids are as quiet as can be. Thankfully it has been quite sunny and warm out most days so I send them outside. One day I did let them ride their bikes down to the park. We still can’t play on the playground, but there’s a big parking area they rode around and around, we brought bagels for breakfast, and climbed up the big rocks. We were all exhausted when we got back. The pool is wonderfully open and my mom has taken them down there a few times which always wears them out. We’ve gotten out our wading pool, Ethan loves to hit wiffle balls and is quite good at it, and both of them could spend hours chasing bubbles. We keep busy.

Afternoons are full of work. It has seemed like an especially busy week in that direction, but perhaps I’m just trying to get everything done before the baby comes. Which I am. I intend to work a little even in the six weeks after the baby comes as there is a few things I know I will have to do, but I would like to see a majority of the work accomplished. I’ve got most of it done, but there are still a few things it would be good to get out of the way.

Honestly, right now life seems a bit dull. But I should probably enjoy it. It’s only a matter of days before “dull” is the last word I will use to describe my days!