It was a normal October 13th, we arose at the crack of dawn as the sun began to peak above the hills and illuminate the golden hues of autumn. We packed into the car to drop off your older brother, and headed to the hospital to await your arrival. The excitement, and the nerves, were real.
A chain of events
When you were growing in my belly, the doctors weren’t too happy with how slow you were growing. You were a little behind the growth chart from what was considered ‘normal’ every time we had an ultrasound. For this reason we had an ultrasound at every appointment, which means I got to see my little girl at every appointment and I sure was not disappointed by that. This also meant that I had to schedule more appointments, and towards the end of pregnancy we had to endure a stress test. You passed with flying colors. I knew you would would, from the second I started feeling your little kicks I knew you were a fighter.
Due to the concern of your growth, it was advised to induce before your due date. I was informed that the chances of a stillbirth were higher if a baby was not large enough. Although I knew in my gut you were okay, I didn’t want to ignore my doctor. He said the normal recommendation was two weeks before the due date. Because I was fairly comfortable with how you were progressing (the last ultrasound you were actually right at the normal weight) I bartered for one week before. I think the doctor perhaps secretly knew or felt you were doing well, but of course wanted to stay safe and keep with the plan, so he agreed to one week. So that was that, and we now had a certain date of when we could bring you into this world.
Induction Day
I remember waking up that morning, trying to get ready but overwhelmed with emotions. And why was I putting on makeup? I was having a baby. But why not, I get to prepare this time. I reasoned with myself that just a little was okay. We packed up and headed to your aunt’s house to drop off Kyler. Let me tell you one thing I was NOT prepared for with the second baby. The immense and intense amount of grief as you realize you are transitioning from an only child to a multiple child family. It hit me like a brick wall as we pulled into her neighborhood, I clung onto Kyler as those last moments of him being my only baby ticked away.
We arrived at the hospital, got hooked up to the Pitocin drip, and waited. I was nervous as I was uncertain on what to expect. How fast or slow would it go? I had heard contractions were worse when being induced, was that true? I tried my best breathe and remain calm and prepare for the unknown. It had been a few hours and I was at about 6cm dilated with not a whole lot progression. Since I didn’t know how long it may take I opted for the epidural. I wanted to try to do it naturally, but I found out that indeed the contractions are more intense. It had been all of maybe 30 minutes after begin administered the epidural when my body decided, “Now that I’m comfortable let’s have this baby!” Now, here’s a case of ‘be careful what you wish for’. The epidural ended up having a block, and only worked on my right side. I guess I got to experience a natural birth after all! Well 50% of one anyway.
It only took a few but very mighty pushes, and there you were, all 6 pounds and 1 ounce of heaven. Dad got to help deliver you and it was one of the best moments of his life. They put you on my chest and you were one of the most beautiful baby girls I had laid eyes on. You were fairly quiet, and as you were breathing I could hear cackling/static from your lungs.
The fight
The nurses were keeping an eye on your breathing, and that evening one finally decided to take you to do a blood test. I was so tired that as she took you I fell asleep. Dad had ran home to grab a couple of things. After a little time, I woke and realized that you and Dad were still not in the room. All of a sudden he burst into the room in tears and in a panic. He let me know that when he went to check on you in the NICU the nurse was trying to find a vein to get a blood sample (after already trying hands and feet) and he could tell you were very low on oxygen. He demanded they check your blood oxygen level, and upon doing so you were dangerously low. This, babydoll, is when you started the first fight of your life, and is why I’m convinced you are a warrior.
You went on the spend the next 7 days in the NICU. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but it felt like ages. We had learned that my body gave birth so fast that my birth canal wasn’t able to squeeze all of the fluid out of your lungs. You essentially got baby pneumonia. I remember when the nurse came to tell me your diagnosis and how long they wanted to keep you. My world stopped, everything went quiet. It was like on movies when everything comes to a sudden halt and pauses.
The first couple of days we couldn’t hold you. They didn’t want to create any more stress on your little body then you were already experiencing. You had so many tubes and wires hooked up to you. The one in your head was the most heart breaking. I remember those days and those nights so vividly. But each day you found more strength. Each day we watched the oxygen get better, until you finally were able to come off of it. What a victory! You my dear, are a fighter. Your name truly suits you, like a fire ember you always have a little fire burning in you.
The day came that we got to bring you home. I could not have been more ready to finally hold you in our home, cuddle you on our couch, and lay you in your own bed. Dad and I were still worried about your oxygen, and hardly took our eyes off of you. Your tenacity and spirit prevailed though, and you continue to grow into the strong-willed, sassy beautiful girl you are. And you always ask why I call you babydoll? Well, that’s because when you were a baby, on more than one occasion I had someone stop me to do a double take at you and confirm that you were a real baby. They would marvel at you and tell me how beautiful you were. You’re going to move mountains, babydoll. Happy birthday!
