“You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it.” – Maya Angelou

“Welcome to the world, Leroux Rein Naested, born August 8th, 2024, at 20:14, a day of pure speed and determination – hot, nasty, bad ass speed.

Months of preparation led to this moment – just like a race where every gear change and pit stop counts. From the trials, tears, and endless prayers to the rush of labor, your arrival was nothing short of miraculous. Born 33 weeks and 4 days, your tiny yet mighty presence has already shifted our world in ways we could never imagine.

After weeks in the NNICU, we finally brought you home on September 2nd. The journey wasn’t easy, but it was filled with courage, grace, and patience, and you, my little lion, fought every battle with strength.

We are in awe of you, our eager, beautiful boy. ❤️

#BirthStory #MiracleBaby #NICUStrong #LerouxReinNaested”

8 Aug 2024 –20:14 – The birth of Leroux Rein

“America is all about speed. Hot, nasty, bad ass speed.” – Allegedly Eleanor Roosevelt, 1936. (Truly from ‘Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby’ – 2006)

And so was the day of your birth, Roux…

Years and months of preparation go into a single, very short race. There are many hours spent pondering and discussing options and solutions to problems, coffee in hand, over an open bonnet. Days are spent looking for specific parts that you’ll need for your car. More hours are spent in cockpits learning about different motors, styles of driving, set ups, building relationships, watching lap upon lap. Numerous other races are scrutinised and studied – learnings made from peers and role models alike. The preparation is in a way lifelong, even if the race only lasts for a few minutes.

I need to write your birth story. But I’m not sure where to start.

The thought of you started so long ago – it might seem like a slow start to others, but I’d been hearing your call and planning you for years. You made a first attempt in 2023, but overshot the landing, and on the 25^th of July 2023 I had to let you go, remembering your first attempt as Xavier, a bright light of hope. Some more patience and lessons were required, as well as very many prayers. Hewi would pray every night for you, as would I. Again and again I tried to bring you through. My heart broke so many times. I felt like I could touch you, you were so close, yet the stars kept needing more alignment while we needed to do the work you needed us to do.

Christmas 2023 I could feel things align and I knew, the time was right.

It sounds cliched, but it was time for a Christmas miracle. From early in the pregnancy there were concerns around a possible early labour risk and I kept needing to take it slow. Everything started very slowly, very calm. Sudden panic would be followed by a slowdown – even after your birth that seemed to still be the rhythm we were in. Fast birth, long waits in the NNICU. Panicked weekly bleeds, followed by ‘the baby is fine, just take it really easy’ was my reality during this pregnancy.

The pregnancy may have been cut short by your early, necessary arrival, but it was a wonderful time for me and Hewi and we could be close in that time while I grew you. He spoke to you daily from the minute you could hear according to the internet and did all the exercises Sharon taught him to help you turn from the frank breach position you were in to occiput.

I wanted to share my birthday, 8 July, with you and your brother and my mother while daddy was at work.

So I went to a sonographer to visit you on the day and check in on you. Thank goodness, because I’d often be asked on labour day what your last estimated weight was and that day’s measurements was our only guide. I got to see a little bit of your face one month before you’d be born.

On the afternoon of 7 August, Hewi and I went for a lovely chilled stroll on Northcliff Hill, something we often did this time of the year. Just a quick farewell to the day after the day’s work. It was a special last date for us together as we looked out over a world that had just been me and him and dad for the last five and a half years. Come to think of it, we often came to the hill to look at the world when big change beckoned – after all Sean and I did our engagement shoot here too. The rest of the evening was unassuming and very relaxed.

On 8 August 2024 I shake out of a dream at 00:35 and I’m sure I’ve just peed myself.

In fact, I pray that I’ve peed myself.

All this business of taking it easy to avoid early labour has seen more of me accumulate in the last few months and I’m feeling quite heavy. Oh please, let me just have peed myself!

The five stages of grief: Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Coming back to these a few times in the weeks to come.

Total denial. I love being pregnant and wasn’t anywhere near wishing the pregnancy over, so I’m not happy that it is suddenly ending.

We call my dad a few minutes into my mom’s birthday to come over and watch Hewi, because it’s not pee, my waters have broken! I might be in acceptance but I suspect daddy is still bargaining, as he resists me packing all the things I need in a bag, insisting ‘we’ll get it later’. Yeah right.

I’m going in to labour with you, exactly to the day 67 years after my Ouma San laboured with your Ouma Suzette. Today our family gets to celebrate two births, no longer just one.

By 2 A.M. I’m booked in to my room at the hospital (no birth centre this time!)

With contractions every 4-6 minutes. By just after 3AM they administer the first steroid injection of two to assist your lungs in maturing. At 7:42AM they administer drugs to try hold back my ongoing contractions to try give enough time for the steroids to work. A few hours in they do seem to have spaced the contractions somewhat and I’ll have a fairly long contraction (2 and a half minutes) every 35 minutes or so. Which is when we initiate something on the birth plan that I wanted. I really wanted more laughter during this labour / birth (and dancing, but ain’t no way I’m dancing with these contractions, plus this time I’m supposed to hold them BACK).

So, in between the madness of the day, daddy rents Talladega Nights (2006) and we watch the first half of it and really just have some good laughs together – just me and him. A movie about speed seems appropriate today.

At 15:24 the follow up steroid injection is administered, but a while later labour is ramping up for me and by 6 o clock I’m repeatedly contracting, and vomiting repeatedly from all the pain. I vomit five times in the last forty minutes waiting for the gynea to arrive. I phone both Sean and Sam to please come, I’m worried and in a lot of pain and alone. I’m repeatedly ringing the bell for the nurses. It is hectic. I am alone. The nurses don’t seem to believe that I’m in labour because the machines that they attach to the top of the uterus don’t pick up the contractions – despite me repeatedly saying there is a defect with my uterus, the top doesn’t contract.

Eventually Dr M sees me and the situation and realizes this baby has to come now and soon.

Baby doesn’t have enough water left and he needs to get in there quickly, even though I’m in active labour and progressing (thanks, for confirming that despite the naysayers). We know there’s a risk of a velamentous chord (which it is later confirmed I do have) and the baby is back in frank breach position.  Sean somehow gets from Northcliff to Park lane in 12 minutes. Sam is hot on his heals – I don’t know how she made it, but as always she is incredibly calm under pressure. This is not her first rodeo. Her daughter is still in the Ward reception, fresh from her hockey game.

Hot, nasty, badass speed.

Everything moves really fast now.

I’m crazy sore. I’ve been give-me-the-damn-drugs-right-now sore for many hours already.

I’m not alone anymore.

I am now being heard.

The prep is long and naked and feels colder than at Genesis (Hewi’s birth) although the theatre is a bit warmer. I can’t believe it’s the 8^th of August  – my mom and my friend Wilna’s birthday!! I have a number of special friends who shares this birthday. What on earth!? I’m so grateful I finally get to meet you after all this time. Yes I was trying to hang on and keep you in, but I know that there is a very good reason your birth has to happen now and today.

Slowly, Dr M draws out this tiny pair of buttocks, and to our shock, you’re a baby BOY!!

A tall, strong, beautiful baby Boy.

You have a beautiful, tiny voice. It’s gorgeous.

The Bandl’s ring did NOT reoccur, the complication from Hewi’s birth. The placenta is stuck in the area in the top of my uterus where there is no muscle, it is incredibly thin and translucent and was clearly about to rupture. This is why the meds couldn’t work – the labour could not be stopped. The consequences would have been too dire.

There  is a commotion with the pead them working on you, but Dr D brings you to me for a good amount of time and I rest my lips against your clammy forehead, too scared to kiss you until he prompts me to. Dr D is made of patience and kindness. He spent good time with me and daddy this afternoon as we prepared to have a baby at 33 weeks and 4 days and plan for the eventualities. He is gentle and calm – just like you. For weeks I’ve been singing you ‘happy birthday’ so that I can sing it for you on your birthday and you will know you’re still safe – you will know the sound. I try to sing it to you between the tears streaming down my cheeks.

Born around 20:14 on 8 Aug, 2024, our eager Leroux Rein Naested – Our little lion.

And just like that our lives started revolving around the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NNICU) at Park Lane Hospital. The room I was in, Sapphire 15, and the bed my son was in, NNICU bed 12… Those became places of huge transition and growth and memories made in isolation that can never be forgotten. Sean tried to juggle Hewi who got incredibly sick from all the stress of this sudden shock. In this crazy whirlwind time, friends carried us with vouchers and packages and food and flowers and playdates for Hewi and somehow Sean and Hewi and Noma made it together. My world started and ended at those NNICU doors, where a flash of a blue wristband allowed access to my child, and the many rules, policies, protocols and procedures governed what I had to follow and endure to be near you.

Many things were grieved inside that unit, one or two enemies made, and many friends too. Angels were encountered and demons were fought. Surrender lives there, as do Devastation, Agony, Patience and Grace.

You were brave and patient and did everything right so that you could come out at the very soonest opportunity.

It was incredible to whisper courage into your ears and see you take leaps moments later towards our freedom. You had many holes in your body, but I tried to hold your hand through this time and be there as much as possible, so that you wouldn’t go through it alone. Some holes in your body, some in mine. Daddy and I took turns to cover the day shift as well as the night shift.

On 2 September 2024 the Dr D smiled and asked whether I’d brought you an outfit – it was time to go home. Elated and surprised, and here we go again: wait, wait, RUSH. It was another race to try get ready, but there was so much happiness in finally having you meet your brother and come home with us.

We are only at the beginning of this championship with you.

Slow planning, Slow prep, Race – We take every day as it comes. Whether it be a slow prep day, or a race day.

The song that was playing in the theatre during your birth, says a lot about that day:

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life, you were only waiting

For this moment to arise

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these sunken eyes and learn to see

All your life, you were only waiting

For this moment to be free”

The Beatles.