Welcome to the World, Hannah Jo

My Hannah Girl,

I can write to you now. Write your name. Know who you are! I started this the week after you were born, our first week at home together, because I didn't want to forget - but here I am, almost four months later, and finally finishing this for you. Writing your story was difficult because there were so many emotions that went into your first five days that were hard to put into words.

We need to start while I was still pregnant with you. When I was 31 weeks, we had the same umbilical cord scare that we had with Hadley, the high blood pressure in areas of the cord. We went to another specialist to rule out any compression or restriction, and just like with your sister, we looked at everything there was to look at but a cause could not be determined. They decided that again, it was probably my stress and we started going to appointments twice a week to monitor more closely and put me at more ease. At 33 weeks, I was diagnosed with Polyhydramnios which meant that I had too much amniotic fluid in my uterus. A normal fluid range is between 16-20 cm and up to 24 cm is still considered safe but on the high side. I was fluctuating between 20 - 30 cm of fluid and they had no answers for me as to why it was happening. I was in a lot of discomfort and pain from that extra weight of fluid and measuring about 3 weeks ahead. More than anything, my anxiety was at an all-time high because there was a scale of risks associated with this condition and they were very concerning to me.

My last bump picture at 37 weeks, but
measuring at 40 weeks because of excess amniotic fluid.

Of course I possess an inherent need to try to understand why, and to learn all the facts, to understand what causes these things to happen. In everything I read, there was something that I couldn't shake. That this could be because of an issue with the baby. The most common being an inability to swallow properly or that the kidneys were not actually functioning correctly. It could be due to a birth defect that affects the baby's GI tract or more severely, their nervous system and something that cannot be detected until birth. I asked at my last sonogram to please triple check to make sure everything looked right with your brain and organs, and they did. We watched as you did your practice breathing and as you swallowed. You looked perfect, but my fluid level was at 24 cm and I still could not shake the fear that I had of something going wrong. Because of the high fluid, I was at risk for cord prolapse, of placental abruption, and on the very severe side of the spectrum, of fetal demise. Then in everything I read, there were also maternal risks associated such as hemorrhaging and respiratory failure.

In the first trimester, as I looked ahead knowing my doctor would induce me between 37 and 38 weeks because of our stillbirth with  your brother, I realized the week we would induce was the week of 4/1. Immediately, I got excited and knew I wanted to have you on April 4. Your Granddaddy Mac was born on 12/12, I was born on 8/8, and I wanted to pass that into the next generation with you on 4/4. I felt like this was meant to be. Furthermore, Hadley came on her own at 37 weeks and 3 days. 4/1 was the start to my 37th week and add 3 days, that would be 4/4, so you both would have been the same gestation at birth. We had our minds set on that, however, these health issues had my doctor err on the side of caution. She decided we were going to induce right at 37 weeks, but because that fell on Easter Sunday, we agreed on April 2 and not a day later.

Our last appointment was on Thursday, March 29. Those next three days following I was so emotional. I couldn't shake the thought that something was going to go wrong. I cried and held your big sister, scared that we wouldn't bring you home, or that I would never come home again. I know this probably sounds dramatic to you, but when you've already experienced the small percentage chance, or a tragedy, it becomes something your mind will drift to. You didn't expect that to ever happen to you before, but then it did. The thought that something else could happen again can become a growing concern and a root of anxiety. Sometimes I find myself waiting for the other shoe to drop because of what we've already been through.

Despite my anxious feelings and emotions leading up to it, I woke up the morning of April 2 with a peace and excitement that I would meet you that day, and receive that surprise to learn who you were - baby boy or baby girl. We arrived at the hospital at 6:00 am and were immediately greeted by a familiar face. Nurse Jill from our labor and delivery experience with Hadley was there to be our nurse for your arrival. Once checked in, we went to our room which was the same room that Hadley was brought into the world and that immediately put any nerves that were trying to bubble up, at ease.

At 37 weeks and 1 day, I was already 4 cm dilated and 50% effaced before starting the induction. You were well on your way to being ready. Nurse Jill predicted you'd arrive around lunchtime. As they checked my vitals and monitored contractions, a familiar face who has been part of each of my babies' births tapped on the door and came in the room. It was wonderful to catch up with Mallory and in a way, very poetic. I knew this was my last delivery and she shared news that they would be moving out of state soon. She happened to be there for each of you and as we talked, all I could think about was how much life had changed for both of us since May 26, 2015 when she first walked into our delivery room, when your brother had already been born into heaven. Now we were both moving on from this stage - me as I delivered my last baby and her from being the chief resident at that hospital. It was like a bookend to this chapter.

At 9:00 am they started the petocin, and contractions came fast. At 9:30 am I got the epidural. At 10:00 am, it was time to break my water - which once they did that, they said I had probably about 10 lb of fluid alone. Before we broke my water, Nurse Jill did tell me that my fluid levels being as high as they were, cord prolapse was what they were most concerned about so they had a team ready to go in case that happened and an emergency C-Section was needed. She talked me through exactly what would happen so I felt prepared and I understood. She got how I operated and knew that's what I needed. They broke my water, we monitored closely, and when everything was in the clear, she left us to rest. This was progressing much quicker than my other two deliveries. I fell asleep around 10:30 am, then woke up around noon and felt like it was almost time. I laid there thinking about who you were, who you'd be, how our lives would change, introducing you to Hadley. I imagined each scenario with a baby girl and a baby boy. I was starting to get nervous, but in an excited kind of way.

By 12:50 PM, the room was prepared and it was go time. We made our final guesses for gender and then birth weight. If you were a boy, your name was going to be Harrison James. Our girl name was Hannah, but we were debating Jo or Joy for the middle name. Nurse Jill and Dr. Kurian told us to do the "parent yell" test which meant when kiddo is in trouble and you use the full name to yell out. So we each took turns calling out Hannah Jo! or Hannah Joy! and we all agreed, Hannah Jo was the winner. Yes baby girl, that is how we chose your middle name. This experience was completely different than your sister's arrival. I asked where the oxygen mask was - they said I didn't need it. I asked where all the people were - they said you didn't require it. I asked why I needed that before and they said your sister was in distress and they didn't want to worry me during that time. So this was the first we were learning about it.

My first push was at 1:00 PM and then at 1:09 PM, you were here. Dr. Kurian asked Daddy if he could see and he laughed with tears in his eyes. He exclaimed it's a Hannah Jo! They put you in my arms on my chest and it just felt exactly how it was supposed to be. I was so surprised, my jaw dropped, it felt surreal that you were really here, but it felt right. All but Nurse Jill had guessed boy, she said girl. It was truly the most surprised I think I have ever been.

 

A girl. Sisters. Hannah. I have my Hannah after all. 
These were my thoughts on repeat.

You see, after we lost your brother, I had received various literature and support group information. There was one that was faith-based and they used Hannah's pain from the bible as she struggled with fertility and longing for a baby who she so desperately wanted. I had already decided that we would use the same initials for each baby. I had a necklace with those initials and it represented Hudson and keeping him close to my heart, but it also represented the hope I had for future babies. As we struggled down the road to have another baby, wearing those initials helped me to know that I would be holding them in my arms someday. As I read a bookmark from a devotional book, I remember thinking if we had a girl, we would name her Hannah. When we found out your sister was a girl, Hadley was also a name I really liked, and it happened to stick. She was supposed to be our Hadley, but Hannah was always in the back of my mind and meant for someone else. It was meant for you. Both you and your sister grabbed at that necklace as one of the first things you did when they put you on my chest.

You grabbing my HJS necklace.

The morning had truly been so peaceful, your delivery was so calm. Your Daddy and I laid there holding you and spending time together just the three of us. There was no hustle and bustle of multiple people in the room ready to take care of you. Family wasn't waiting in the waiting room yet because you came so soon and in the middle of the work day, they all planned to be there later. I remember looking at you Daddy and saying, wow it doesn't feel like we just had a baby! This is so relaxing!

Shortly thereafter, things changed. Your sister had excess amniotic fluid in her lungs and began "grunting" within the first hour after delivery, which meant she was having a hard time pulling in air. We were paranoid of the same thing happening again so every little noise you made, we were in tune with. The little noises were longer and closer together, like you were singing. Your Daddy called Nurse Jill to come in and check on you, just to be on the safe side and put us at ease. We told her we were probably being paranoid. She came in and took you over to the observation area, she said you were indeed grunting. After a few minutes, she called in the baby doctor and they agreed it was best for you to go to the NICU to be monitored. This exact thing happened with Hadley and she just needed a few hours for those lungs to work themselves out. I thought within a few hours, all would be just fine. They put a little oxygen mask on you while I held you and I was able to get one picture of you all wrapped up before you were wheeled away.

Your Daddy said he'd go with you and I would be up once I was cleared to leave Labor and Delivery. Your Grann and Mac had arrived and were ready to meet you, but you had just gone upstairs. By 3:30, It was time to move me upstairs but they told me you were still in NICU and we'd go see you first. The way they said it, something didn't feel right, it didn't feel like last time with Hadley anymore. It was around 4:00 that they led me into the NICU, I saw your Daddy across the room and he looked pale and concerned. When he looked up and saw me, his eyes were wide and filled with tears. I looked at you and you were covered in tubes and wires. They said you weren't tolerating room level oxygen and were experiencing tachypnea, which was driving up your heart rate, meaning you were breathing too fast which wasn't good for the lungs or the heart. Your body was working harder than it should. They did blood work to test blood gas level and your CO2 was too high, you weren't converting to oxygen. You were in respiratory distress and your lungs were failing you. This was very different than what we had experienced with Hadley.

Still, I remained optimistic and thought just give her a few hours, she just needs a few more hours. Now both sets of your grandparents were at the hospital and while I settled into the post-partum room, your dad took each of them back individually to meet you. Only two family members at a time were allowed in the NICU. We came and went throughout the evening but nothing had changed. Your Daddy was having a hard time. He had to watch as his baby girl, who he had just met and held for the first time, was poked by needles, was intubated, and had all the tubes affixed on you for the CPAP machine. He felt helpless. Your Daddy likes to make everything right, he wants to fix anything that is wrong, he is the eternal optimist. But we both felt out of control of the situation, which was how we felt with your brother. We had absolutely no control over what was going on or what would happen.

My heart was breaking. We had waited and waited to know who you would be but now couldn't hold you because anytime we would try to move you, your heart rate would jump up into a red zone and you would become tachypnic again, setting off the horrible beeps of the machines. I couldn't see you because of all the tubes and tape covering your face. I stroked your cheek around the tubes, held your hand carefully as to not disrupt everything sticking out of your arms. You had a feeding tube and I pumped nonstop to try to get my milk to come in so you weren't on donor milk. I had a hard time sleeping and would call down to check on you every hour until they told me to try and get some sleep, I was going to need it and most of all, you needed me to have all the strength I could muster, for both of us.

We got up and went back into the NICU around 6:30 am and the pediatrician was there doing rounds. He explained to us that throughout the night, you got a little worse, then back to how you had been, but never better. To put it into perspective, when the average person breaths in room level air, it has 21% oxygen which was our goal to get you to. You wouldn't tolerate anything less than 40% oxygen level from the CPAP without struggling. The lowest you had been able to tolerate was 32% oxygen. We needed to keep your breaths per minute below 70, but they were up in the range of 100-130.

Also in the NICU were two other babies - one who was recovering from a heart surgery, the other a 26 weeker fighting for his life. I felt guilty for being so worried, or showing emotion for you around those parents, when you were at least a term baby, in better shape than the other two who had life-threatening health concerns. In my journey as a parent of loss, I had more recently met several mothers who had a NICU loss experience and I kept thinking of them. We were told you would be just fine, that you just needed some time, but my mind kept going back to those concerns from right before you were born. Was it all connected somehow? Is this the bad feeling I couldn't shake? I was so scared that tragedy would strike again. What if a baby who should be just fine developed an infection or we discovered a birth defect with devastating results? That way of thinking isn't because I'm a pessimistic person - again, it's because the unthinkable already has happened to us and it's become difficult to not go to that place.

That day was a complete fog. I don't remember much of it except for at some point, pulling it together and rallying for this little baby girl who needed me to be strong and to be her mama. Your Daddy and I were each able to hold you once, for a short period of time.

Wednesday morning, I got up around 4 am and went down to check on you briefly. I just wanted to hold your hand. I stood over you crying because I didn't want you to feel alone and every moment I was in my room and not yours, was a moment you didn't have me. We went down to the NICU again around 7:30 am. They told us that all in all, it had been a rough night for you, which broke any strength I had tried to carry, because I wasn't there with you to talk to you so you could hear my voice or try to calm you when you would have your episodes. They had you laying on your stomach because they said you were very fitful and were not tolerating the feeding tube very well the past few hours. They said during that time, you had become the most tachypnic thus far, which to us felt like we were going backwards in progress rather than forward. The NICU nurse on duty felt like you were a strong girl, and a smart girl. She thought you didn't like the tubes and it was making you so mad. She advocated for you to be removed of the CPAP and on a simple nasal cannula, which was less invasive and far more comfortable for you. As the pediatrician arrived and we began to discuss everything, he said he didn't think you'd be going home for another couple of days. It was as if you were as upset as we were about it, and you went into a full on rage.

They removed the CPAP and you began to calm down. With it removed, we saw that you were tolerating room level oxygen for the first time and your heart rate was normal - you were not tachypnic. About 10 minutes went by and you were perfectly stable. They suggested we try removing the feeding tube. After another 10 minutes, you were still perfectly stable. They told me that maybe it would be a good idea to try to nurse you and just see if you'd latch, but we would need to be careful because this could cause your oxygen to drop or your heart rate to increase. But neither occurred. Around 10:00 am, they did another blood gas test on you and all was good. They checked your bilirubin and you were not in the jaundice zone at all. Your weight had dropped more than 10% but once we started nursing, you weren't spitting up like you were on the feeding tube and nutrients were absorbing better.

So here we were, it was the morning of April 4. It is interesting to me that the day I had hoped to have you, and the day we had originally planned for, that was the day your little lungs decided to work correctly. I remember someone saying to me in my pregnancy with Hadley that despite my anxiety and as long as she is healthy, to try to get to that 38 week mark because every day truly makes a difference. On 4/4, you were a brand new baby. You were alert, we saw open eyes, you were breathing on your own. We were on the up and up.

Wednesday was all about monitoring your progress. They said if you stayed stable for 24 hours without setbacks, that Thursday they would let you room-in with me. I didn't want to be discharged without you. That was an emotional obstacle I faced with Hadley as well due to her jaundice, but they allowed me to stay an extra night so that we didn't have to leave the hospital without our baby again - though different circumstances. I was having a hard time with you in the NICU and that I would be discharged as a patient to go home but you would still be there.

The floor was rather empty so my doctor put in a call to allow me to stay a third night, then Thursday came and they let me stay a fourth night. I knew Hudson was pulling some strings from up above, and this staff had a compassion that runs so deep. You were at your best when I was near, so they agreed that to have me there around the clock with with you was best for both of us. Thursday morning we wheeled you out of the NICU and into my room where we got to catch up on all the snuggles and skin to skin time. Now that we were out of the NICU, I was able to give you your special "Hud Bud" gift. Hadley has the bunny made from his hospital blanket, and you have the lamb we were given when we left the hospital without him. It has a yellow ribbon and nose, and plays Jesus Loves Me. Along with his hospital blanket, it is what we had to hold when we didn't have him. Both of these things were so very special and even more so to pass on to each of you as a connection to him.

After 24 hours of rooming in with me and all of your tests continuing to come back as normal, we were discharged to go home on Friday morning. I had been waiting and waiting for the chance to introduce you to your big sister and we finally got to do that. My favorite memory as a new family was that Sunday evening as we all sat on the couch together. I held you, your Daddy held Hadley, who held the Hudson bunny. George nuzzled between us. I was overcome with emotion because in that moment, just soaking up a rare moment of peace and calm, I felt more complete than ever before with our whole family right there together.

Hudson made us parents, Hadley healed our brokenness, 

and you precious Hannah, you completed us. 

These four months have been the most trying four months, but they've been as rewarding as they have been challenging, as loving as they have been difficult, and as beautiful as it has been exhausting. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

We love you and are so thankful for you, Hannah Jo! You are such a gift.

Nosies,

Mommy