Lily arrived Friday, November 18th at 7:03 am, weighing 7 lbs, 3 oz.
Her c-section was scheduled for 7:30 am Friday, and I was pretty anxious (see previous blog post). I was able to go to sleep at about 11, but woke up again at 1 am feeling strange. Thinking it was just anxious butterflies in my tummy, I went back to sleep. Those were no butterflies. At 3 am, I was awakened by close to the worst pain I've ever felt. There was no doubting it was a contraction, and not one of the annoying ones I'd been having for the last month. Poor Mario (way too many stories start with those two words lately) woke to me screaming I was in labor. I think we were dressed and in the car with mostly packed bags within 5 minutes. He made the usually 40 minute drive to the hospital in 25. I called the Dr on the way there, so the nurses were waiting for us and confirmed we were in fact in active labor. Lily did not want to show up on our schedule or do things anyone's way but her own. I wonder if this is any kind of forecast for the future.
The delivery went beautifully. No problems, minimal pain, and most importantly, lots of loud cries that brought tears of joy to our eyes. Neonatology took Lily for all of 30 minutes before declaring her healthy. That's right. perfectly healthy! Lily even came out hungry and knowing just what to do to eat right after being born!
I had a rough, rough recovery with Avery, so was prepared for the same with Lily. I kept waiting for the pain and crying to set in, but they never really came. We spent three days in the hospital enjoying Lily and introducing her to Katie and Avery when they came to visit. Avery didn't like her very much, but at 21 months, this wasn't a huge surprise. She yelled "Mommy, no! No baby! Bye bye," and tried to push Lily out of my arms. This relationship may take a little time and work.
On the fourth day after Lily was born, we packed up our things and headed home. We were so excited picking up Avery from our friend's house, but I started to feel strange on the final stretch home. My head started hurting, I was dizzy, and I had flashing lights in front of my eyes. Unfortunately, I was familiar with this set of symptoms from when we had Avery. We, along with my doctors, has been carefully watching for them for months. Sure enough, I took my blood pressure when we got in and it was 180/123. Not. Good. I tried lying down for a half hour. Wishful thinking. We called the doctor, who ordered us right back to the hospital stat. Mario and I were both terrified. We called friends who met us on our way to the hospital and took poor, confused Avery home with them.
We were admitted to the hospital, where I gave a ridiculous amount of blood and in return, received an equally obscene number of pills. I had an MRI to make sure the preeclampsia had not done any damage to my brain. Thankfully, it had not. By late afternoon the following day, my blood pressure was finally down if I stayed quiet and still, but we still didn't get to go home. We both missed Avery terribly and had had enough hospital to last us the rest of our lives. Oh how we prayed to be able to take Lily home.
Thanksgiving morning brought answered prayers. My doctor came in and released us. We picked up Avery again, and got home just in time to meet friends who came to our door with a full Thanksgiving dinner. Thank you Smiths!
Overnight, I started to feel badly again, and my blood pressure shot up higher than we had ever seen it. Friday morning brought Dr's orders to return to the hospital, be admitted to icu, and start treatment with magnesium sulfate, which is reportedly a tortuous experience. We called out the troops to pray this time before we tearfully climbed in the car and waved good-bye to Avery. God answered, big time. First, there was no room in icu, so we were sent to antepartum instead, where I was allowed to keep, and continue to feed Lily. Then, my labs came back better than expected and the dreaded magnesium sulfate was indefinitely postponed.
We are still in the hospital, but doing much, much better. We will be here until I look stable for at least 24 hours, but Avery and Katie are safe and happy, Lily is healthy, and I am well cared for.
We've been warned we may have a rough several weeks or even months ahead getting me back to normal, but this thanksgiving holiday, I am still so, so thankful. I'm thankful for the Comerfords and the Shanks for loving on our sweet Avery when we couldn't, and for the Voricks for letting Katie be part of their family at their farm for Thanksgiving week. I'm thankful for my husband, who has
stayed by my side for well over half a decade and walked so closely through the last weeks and months with me. I'm thankful for doctors who have been part of allowing us the privilege of meeting and parenting Lily. I'm thankful for support from family, and I'm thankful for the opportunity to chronicle this journey here and experience all the love, acceptance, and prayers I've received from you who read it. Most of all, I'm thankful for Jesus, to whom we have prayed so fervently over the last 9 months. Without knowing Him, and being able to trust, albeit imperfectly, that He is in control, there would not have been any joy in this journey.
I will post when we are safely home, but after that, I may take a little break from blogging and invest the time in mothering and getting well. Please continue to remember us in your prayers as we try to heal and adjust.
I hope each of you had a holiday as rich in thanksgiving as ours.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Uncomfortable
I am trying to cement in my mind that tomorrow will be the climax of the amazing testimony of Lily's life, and I'm struggling. I'm vacillating between confidently knowing The Gracious God Who Loves Us is in ultimate control, and panicking at all the possible outcomes. I've shed more than a few anxious, scared tears today. I suppose that's pretty normal, if there is a normal for this situation.
In the event that you've not followed the blog from the beginning, here's a very condensed recap: Lily was found to have a large cystic hygroma and fetal hydrops at 11 weeks gestation. She was given a 1 in 3000 chance of surviving even to birth. She has completely defied all the odds. Her hygroma shrunk and her hydrops resolved. She has no detectable chromosomal abnormalities and looks great on ultrasound. I give God all the glory for these miracles and am so thankful for all who have prayed for Lily.
Our physicians have told us repeatedly that not everything is visible on ultrasound, and there are many things we won't know until Lily arrives. Tomorrow, we will know. When we first were told there were problems, I struggled with not knowing, not being in control. I learned, over a long stretch of time, to surrender this worry to God, and I found joy in Him and His creation of Lily's life in my womb. We've celebrated her life every step of the way. I've grown past worrying about not knowing.
Now, tonight, I'm terrified about knowing. I sort of would rather go on not knowing. I'm comfortable here. But I know God doesn't call us to a life of comfort. I'm learning this in this situation and several others. There's no change or growth in comfort. What amazing testimonies of who God is have you heard from people who have always been comfortable? What men and women of faith do you remember from the Bible being comfortable? I'm pretty convinced that to really experience God moving in my life, I have to be at least willing to be intensely uncomfortable.
When you pray for us tonight, and early tomorrow when Lily comes out to meet us, please do pray she is strong and healthy and untainted by any of her earlier problems. Please do pray for my health and safety. Don't linger too long, though, praying for our comfort. Pray instead that God is glorified in whatever happens, and that we have the strength of faith to embrace Him in whatever circumstance awaits us.
In the event that you've not followed the blog from the beginning, here's a very condensed recap: Lily was found to have a large cystic hygroma and fetal hydrops at 11 weeks gestation. She was given a 1 in 3000 chance of surviving even to birth. She has completely defied all the odds. Her hygroma shrunk and her hydrops resolved. She has no detectable chromosomal abnormalities and looks great on ultrasound. I give God all the glory for these miracles and am so thankful for all who have prayed for Lily.
Our physicians have told us repeatedly that not everything is visible on ultrasound, and there are many things we won't know until Lily arrives. Tomorrow, we will know. When we first were told there were problems, I struggled with not knowing, not being in control. I learned, over a long stretch of time, to surrender this worry to God, and I found joy in Him and His creation of Lily's life in my womb. We've celebrated her life every step of the way. I've grown past worrying about not knowing.
Now, tonight, I'm terrified about knowing. I sort of would rather go on not knowing. I'm comfortable here. But I know God doesn't call us to a life of comfort. I'm learning this in this situation and several others. There's no change or growth in comfort. What amazing testimonies of who God is have you heard from people who have always been comfortable? What men and women of faith do you remember from the Bible being comfortable? I'm pretty convinced that to really experience God moving in my life, I have to be at least willing to be intensely uncomfortable.
When you pray for us tonight, and early tomorrow when Lily comes out to meet us, please do pray she is strong and healthy and untainted by any of her earlier problems. Please do pray for my health and safety. Don't linger too long, though, praying for our comfort. Pray instead that God is glorified in whatever happens, and that we have the strength of faith to embrace Him in whatever circumstance awaits us.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Almost Time!
I've not posted in a while because there has really not been any news to impart, but actually, not having anything to say IS news! Lily is still tucked away at almost 39 weeks, and we've not been back to the hospital in two weeks. I hope to stay away till Lily's scheduled arrival this Friday morning. I've followed orders and stayed on rest (lounging on the couch and not going anywhere) every day, and it has slowed the contractions and kept my blood pressure at least out of the danger zone. Most weekdays, Mario has gone to work, Avery has spent at least part of the day with our sitter, Katie has been at school and riding, and I have watched a lot of HGTV. I didn't think anyone would be interested in g what I learned from Design on a Dime or Candice Tells All. The shows did inspire some serious nesting, so my poor, sweet, ever-accommodating husband has painted, organized, assembled, labeled, and cleaned for hours and without a word of complaint. His biggest accomplishment was re-upholstering my grandmother's bench, which was covered in purple flame stitch fabric. It's hanging out inside the front door now, sporting a very current beige, chocolate, and blue/green suzani pattern. I'm pretty proud of this project, because the cost was less than $10.
My good friend Jenn asked yesterday how I was feeling. My response was "puffy, anxious, hopeful, excited, nervous, tired, and thankful.". Probably more than she bargained for, but I was her roommate long ago, so she knows my annoying tendency toward hyper-verbose descriptions of feelings. No one will ever catch me saying "fine," which is NOT a feeling.
Most of my remaining anxiety is about the actual c-section. I hate hospitals, needles, beeping noises, bright lights, and drugs. More on the history of that another time. I have a combination of peace and excitement about meeting Lily. Even the Dr's constant reminders that something may still be very wrong haven't phased me lately. I KNOW God has a plan for Lily. He tells me so every time she kicks, when she gets the hiccups in my belly, and each week when I hear her sweet heartbeat. This week, we got one final 3-D peek of her curled up inside me. She has huge, chunky cheeks and is almost 8 lbs! In one picture, she was winking at us, one eye open and one shut. She almost looked mischievous.
Please pray for Lily and me, and for the doctors at St Luke's and TX Children's this Friday morning. We have so much to be thankful for this season, including your faithful prayers for us.
My good friend Jenn asked yesterday how I was feeling. My response was "puffy, anxious, hopeful, excited, nervous, tired, and thankful.". Probably more than she bargained for, but I was her roommate long ago, so she knows my annoying tendency toward hyper-verbose descriptions of feelings. No one will ever catch me saying "fine," which is NOT a feeling.
Most of my remaining anxiety is about the actual c-section. I hate hospitals, needles, beeping noises, bright lights, and drugs. More on the history of that another time. I have a combination of peace and excitement about meeting Lily. Even the Dr's constant reminders that something may still be very wrong haven't phased me lately. I KNOW God has a plan for Lily. He tells me so every time she kicks, when she gets the hiccups in my belly, and each week when I hear her sweet heartbeat. This week, we got one final 3-D peek of her curled up inside me. She has huge, chunky cheeks and is almost 8 lbs! In one picture, she was winking at us, one eye open and one shut. She almost looked mischievous.
Please pray for Lily and me, and for the doctors at St Luke's and TX Children's this Friday morning. We have so much to be thankful for this season, including your faithful prayers for us.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
No Baby
We thought we were having a baby yesterday. We told everyone she was coming, repacked bags for each family member, made arrangements for Katie and for Avery, called family to tell them when to come, froze the meat in the fridge, and cancelled anything that was planned for the rest of the week. All indications at the OB’s office on Monday morning were that I had preeclampsia, and Lily needed to be delivered pretty quickly. We prayed, and worked really hard to wrap our brains around Lily coming yesterday. I felt pretty prepared and really had a peace about her arrival. It didn’t happen.
We checked in to the hospital, as instructed, at 8:45 After I was on the monitor, in a gown, with an IV, my last lab test came back. It was very unexpectedly normal. Last year, this would not have mattered. This year, there are strict guidelines in place for OBs about when they can and can’t deliver a baby. Very specific criteria have to be met to deliver a baby before 39 weeks, and that one test was part of the criteria.
While all the medical folks were chatting about what to do with me, I started having contractions again on the monitor – every 2-3 minutes. “Looks like you are going in to labor on your own!” they said. “You can’t go home like that, so we are just going to keep you here and see what you do.” Hours later – no labor. Just loads of preterm contractions. By about 7 pm, my OB, the high risk OB, and the high risk OB’s nurse all showed up to stare at me and talk about what to do. The high risk OB won, and we were put BACK on contraction slowing meds, and told we could go home if Lily and I did OK on overnight monitoring. I thanked them for their watchful and attentive care, nodded, and waved as the forum walked out the door. Then, I had a meltdown. A two year old, irrational, snot dripping, whiney, unlady-like, and very, very therapeutic meltdown. It went something like this:
Me: I hate it here. It’s hot. This bed is awful. I want my own bed! I hate being connected to all these wires and tubes! I miss Avery. I HATE hospitals! I hate needles! I feel this needle in my arm and it’s stupid that I have to have it when we aren’t having a baby. It’s stupid that I have to be here at all! I want to go home!
Mario: Do you want me to see if they could bring you a fan, sweetie?
Me: I hate fans! They dry out my contacts and make my skin itch. I am gross. I am huge, and puffy, and sweaty, and dirty, and gross, and I want to go home. I can’t have a baby. What was I thinking? I can’t deal with the pain. I’m a wimp. Wimps shouldn’t be allowed to have babies………..
Poor Mario
I did eventually calm down. I talked to the nurse, who had heard the same tirade, verbatim, about 15,000 times and brought me a fan and some Tylenol. I prayed. Mario prayed, and quit speaking since he wasn’t making much headway. I think we slept a combined total of 4 hours.
My OB came in at 7 am and told us to go home. As long as my pressure stays down, I am off of bed rest, and just on “rest.” She advised us to go out for dinner tonight. It’s actually my birthday.
Though it’s driving both Mario and I nuts to be on this rollercoaster, we know that we are not the first riders. We also know that God knows better than anyone else when Lily should come. Feel free to keep reminding me of this when I start to forget and think that I know best.
I’m so sorry we got everyone excited that she was coming yesterday- again. The outpouring of support was so sweet. We are so, so blessed to have the friends and family we do. I can’t wait for everyone to meet Lily and Lily to experience all the love that is waiting to be shown her. I will definitely keep you posted about how GOD’s plan for her birth unfolds.
We checked in to the hospital, as instructed, at 8:45 After I was on the monitor, in a gown, with an IV, my last lab test came back. It was very unexpectedly normal. Last year, this would not have mattered. This year, there are strict guidelines in place for OBs about when they can and can’t deliver a baby. Very specific criteria have to be met to deliver a baby before 39 weeks, and that one test was part of the criteria.
While all the medical folks were chatting about what to do with me, I started having contractions again on the monitor – every 2-3 minutes. “Looks like you are going in to labor on your own!” they said. “You can’t go home like that, so we are just going to keep you here and see what you do.” Hours later – no labor. Just loads of preterm contractions. By about 7 pm, my OB, the high risk OB, and the high risk OB’s nurse all showed up to stare at me and talk about what to do. The high risk OB won, and we were put BACK on contraction slowing meds, and told we could go home if Lily and I did OK on overnight monitoring. I thanked them for their watchful and attentive care, nodded, and waved as the forum walked out the door. Then, I had a meltdown. A two year old, irrational, snot dripping, whiney, unlady-like, and very, very therapeutic meltdown. It went something like this:
Me: I hate it here. It’s hot. This bed is awful. I want my own bed! I hate being connected to all these wires and tubes! I miss Avery. I HATE hospitals! I hate needles! I feel this needle in my arm and it’s stupid that I have to have it when we aren’t having a baby. It’s stupid that I have to be here at all! I want to go home!
Mario: Do you want me to see if they could bring you a fan, sweetie?
Me: I hate fans! They dry out my contacts and make my skin itch. I am gross. I am huge, and puffy, and sweaty, and dirty, and gross, and I want to go home. I can’t have a baby. What was I thinking? I can’t deal with the pain. I’m a wimp. Wimps shouldn’t be allowed to have babies………..
Poor Mario
I did eventually calm down. I talked to the nurse, who had heard the same tirade, verbatim, about 15,000 times and brought me a fan and some Tylenol. I prayed. Mario prayed, and quit speaking since he wasn’t making much headway. I think we slept a combined total of 4 hours.
My OB came in at 7 am and told us to go home. As long as my pressure stays down, I am off of bed rest, and just on “rest.” She advised us to go out for dinner tonight. It’s actually my birthday.
Though it’s driving both Mario and I nuts to be on this rollercoaster, we know that we are not the first riders. We also know that God knows better than anyone else when Lily should come. Feel free to keep reminding me of this when I start to forget and think that I know best.
I’m so sorry we got everyone excited that she was coming yesterday- again. The outpouring of support was so sweet. We are so, so blessed to have the friends and family we do. I can’t wait for everyone to meet Lily and Lily to experience all the love that is waiting to be shown her. I will definitely keep you posted about how GOD’s plan for her birth unfolds.
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