Decimus arrived over two weeks ago. To be absolutely correct, Decima arrived. Yes, we have a daughter. And she’s absolutely, perfectly delightful.
We went to the hospital with two girl names and two boy names—and ended up using both girl options combined. It took us a day or so of waffling over what to actually call her before deciding; both names seemed to fit, but in the end we knew she was Alice. Her birth certificate says Flannery Alice Carole. She’s our third child to go by a middle name rather than an official first, and is named after her Mamaw.
She was born late in the evening of 3/3, and was much smaller than anticipated, tying an older brother for the record of smallest biological baby’s birth weight at 8 lbs., 10 oz. The scheduled c-section went seamlessly, though the first night was rocky for me as I experienced heavy bleeding and complications slightly more intense than I have in the past.
The two weeks since Alice’s birth have been harder than I had hoped but still full of blessings. Being 46, recovering from a third c-section, excessive blood loss—all of it took a toll and has meant that I find myself fighting back more slowly than I anticipated. My family has gone above and beyond in serving one another and giving me loads of grace, and our community has been supportive in ways that have literally kept us afloat as we’ve acclimated to the new norms. I’ve finally gotten my feet underneath me in the last day or so. It is a welcome feeling.
This little girl has been surrounded by love and excitement every moment. She certainly doesn’t lack for arms to hold her and eager siblings wanting to read her stories or show her toys. Alice may be at the tail end of a long line of brothers and sisters, but she’s no less celebrated for it. If these past two weeks are any indicator, she’s likely to live with the biggest cheering section of them all. It’s not a bad way to go, I think.