The Best Year

My sweet baby girl, 

One year ago today brought us the greatest sense of accomplishment, joy and pride that we had experienced to date - it was the day you entered the world as our daughter. All yesterday, at any moment, I could think back to that day one year before and relive each moment. I remember everything about it from the time I woke up, to feeling contractions, to heading to the hospital wondering if we'd be coming home with you, to almost exactly 24 hours later when I got to hold you against my chest for the first time.

Your brother made us parents, he taught us a depth and understanding of love that we hadn’t known before, of sacrifice, of humility, of finding beauty through pain.

And you, my precious one, you made us full again. You gave us the meaning of redemption, of hope, of answered prayers. There was an all new depth and understanding of that love Hudson first brought into our hearts. It was amplified with you and one that we could live out through every moment of every day.

You are loving. You may not love to snuggle and prefer to wiggle around, but you love to give and get hugs and kisses to anyone you can, including Georgie Pup and Hudson Bunny. You touch everyone's faces and smile. 

You are curious. To observe how you take in the world around you is fascinating. To watch you begin to understand how things work, how they sound, how they move - it is a gift you've given us. 

You are strong-willed. You are a girl who knows what she wants and are determined to get it. Your teachers call you independent and strong. While it can make parenting a challenge at times, I hope this never leaves you and I'm proud that it is apparent so early. 

You are happy. You are such a happy child. Sure you can pitch a really great fit, but you are a smiley, giggly, cheerful girl. You sing more than you try to talk, you squeal to show excitement. You are expressionate and animated. You exude spirit and joy. 

All of this in just your first year of life. I want you to know how incredibly cherished you are, how adored you are. You have made our lives far better than they’ve ever been and you will continue to do that as you grow. You are everything we could have ever hoped for, and what you have brought into our lives is greater than what we ever imagined.

Our hearts are so full. Happy birthday Hadley Jane, we are so thankful you are ours. 

Photos by Lori Wilson Photography. 

To My Daughter on Her First Day of Daycare

Hadley,

Today you are six months, 2 weeks and 2 days. For the last 198 days, you have been the crux of our every everything. I spent thirteen weeks with you and day by day you learned your basic needs. I watched you take in the world around you, become more alert, learn to recognize people and other objects. I watched you transform from a newborn to an infant. I saw your smiles, heard your first giggle, listened as you found your voice, and discovered different textures. I watched as you began to focus your gaze on our faces, rather than look beyond them. I held you as you cried, and soothed you to become calm. When it was time for me to return to work, your Daddy took over and he stayed home to take care of his sweet baby girl - the first person in his office to take advantage of this new benefit that I am so thankful he is given.

He has heard those little giggles turn into belly laughs. He's taught you how to enjoy tummy time and roll over, how to jump in your jumparoo, to sit on your own like a big girl, and turn the pages of a book. Your little voice has changed and you call out now, you sing to us, you babble on and on. He has watched you become this precocious, energetic, happy baby girl. Every day he took you on walks and swung with you on the porch swing. In his last week of leave with you, you started stretching out your arms big and wide, he would do the same and lift you to him for the game he calls Big Hugs. You've started reaching for our faces, touching our cheeks, and giving us kisses.

I treasure every minute of every day I was home with you, and more so, I treasure the special time your Daddy got to have home with you. I hope when you grow up and if you become a Mommy someday, you will have plenty of time home with your babies without having to compromise your income, job responsibilities, or career aspirations. I hope you can have it all with cessation. I hope that all working mommies won't have to have a choice between spending those needed months (yes, it is months) with their baby, or being able to financially contribute to the household to provide what is needed for their families. I wish that a true maternity leave would be available for working moms, one that is representative of the beauty and importance of bringing a new life into the world, while indicative of what it entails to ensure the proper health and connectivity needed for a mother and a child. I hope that all Daddies will have the ability to take paternity leave and bond with their babies, taking care of them, being part of this very important time of growth and development as well, further solidifying a true partnership with their spouse in this joint venture called parenthood. I was fortunate to have 13 weeks with you, then when my time ended, your Daddy was able to spend 15 weeks with you - but this is not necessarily the norm and that's a shame.

Today is a new step for us as a family. Today I do the hardest thing I've had to do during your 198 days. Today I hand you over to someone we've never met, in a place you don't know, and trust them with your care. I wish I could explain it to you in a way you'd understand, and reassure you that everything will be okay, that we will be back for you. You've become used to Mommy being gone but you were in your own house with Daddy responding to your needs. Now everything is changing for you. My heart aches and it hurts that you are now going to be out of our daily care. That I won't be able to come home at lunch to see you and nurse you. That Daddy won't be there to make things better when you cry. It was a painful, long road to get you into this world - it is hard to put that trust in someone else to take care of you as well as we would. Will you find the comfort that you need when you cry? Will you know they love and care for you too? I'll miss those pictures and videos of what you are doing that get me through the day. I'm afraid to miss more of your firsts, for someone else to get those.

But can I tell you something? I'm also really excited for you.

These six months we've watched all these wonderful things take place with you. We've also watched as you've interacted with others. How you light up and have intrigue, especially with other little ones. You are going to love being around others your age and your teachers, learning from them, taking the world in. This is going to be so wonderful for you and honestly, it will be better developmentally than what we could do with you at home. You are going to thrive and it's important for us to let you. We want to give you this experience.

I want you to know that there is no greater job that either your Daddy or I have than being your parents. That's why, as your parents, we go to work every day - that is what is best for our family. The truth of the matter is, I love what I do, the job I have, the career I've built - I personally need that time to contribute to society and to our family. Even more so, I love what I get to come home to when that day at the office is done and be your Daddy's wife, and your Mommy. We work hard for you, to provide for you, to set an example for you. Every day, we aim to better ourselves as professionals in the careers we've worked hard to have in order to lay that foundation for you, so that you may blaze your own trail someday. You are going to have friends whose mommies or daddies don't go into an office every day and that is just as wonderful. That is what works best for their family, that is how they show their love to their littles. It doesn't mean we love you any less, or that they love theirs any less. We are all doing what is best for our own families, because each family is different with no two the same. You are going to do great things baby girl, you can do whatever you want to do. You can be a stay at home mom, you can be a work from home mom, you can be a go to the office mom, you can work part-time, you can work full-time. You can have a career, be a wife, be a mom - do them separately or all at the same time. You can take the world by storm and we are your biggest cheerleaders.

Whenever we pack you up in the car and we drop you off at daycare, know that during those nine hours we are away, it is because we love you as much as we do. You are our motivation, our inspiration, and we know you are thriving where you are. Although I cried today leaving you, handing you over to people we didn't know, it's not something I would change given the choice right now. They were so comforting, told us we could call whenever we needed, come by whenever we wanted. In my heart I feel like I should have already done this, the first day at daycare thing, with your brother. If he were here, Hudson would have been in the classroom across the hall. I think that made more tears flow and the experience that much harder. As I met other parents at pick up time, I wondered if our paths would have crossed already, if we would have been doing life together as parents but instead we meet now for the first time? While he's not next door to be there if you need him, he is always with you. When we picked you up for the day, before you realized we were there, we saw that you were happy - you were so happy - and that made us happy.

We love you Hadley Jane. We want to make you proud, and for you to know that you always make us proud. Everything we do is out of love for you.

Nosies,

Mommy

Something in the Water

A month ago we baptized our baby girl.

We baptized our son in a hospital room. We believe he had already entered the kingdom of Heaven but we wanted the memory of being able to baptize him together as a family. It took place in the early hours of the morning with the pastor who married us. He came to the hospital, my family members and our nurse gathered around the bed in a circle, Max and I held one another while holding Hudson. The holy water was in a styrofoam cup. It was tragically beautiful. There wasn't a special outfit or family traditions, it was the best we could do at the time. For the very limited amount of time we had with him.

Before Hadley was born, we started planning her baptism. We had wanted to baptize her as an infant for various reasons, but the time of year was also really important to us. The holidays were so brutal for us a year ago when they should be a time of joy and celebration. We clung to one another as we "celebrated" our wedding anniversary and everything that had made up our marriage to that point with the devastating elephant in the room that we had become parents but didn't have a child anymore. We hurt. We were broken. We had experienced a time of for better and for worse early in our marriage. Coming up on this fourth anniversary we had talked about how special it would be for us to make that weekend about Hadley and to baptize her in the same setting that we were married in. To have that healing from the year prior. The baptismal gown that my great grandmother made was worn by my mom, her sisters and their female cousins. It was worn by me and my cousins. Now we had a third generation to wear it and needed to do so before she outgrew it. I wore that gown at 8 weeks old and so did she.

The church altar was covered in poinsettias the way it was when we stood up there together last. This time, two of the poinsettias were donated in memory of Hudson and in honor of Hadley. This time, we stood up there with our baby girl and our son was represented right there with us. The baptism took place at the beginning of the service and we stood at the altar together, surrounded by our family and some of our best friends, like we were four years ago for our wedding. This time the words we echoed back were an I Do to raise her in the church and nurture her through faith in Christ our Lord. She was baptized and we all laid our hands on her and prayed. The Reverend walked her down the aisle to introduce her to the congregation. The sermon was about brokenness and I found myself clinging to every word as my husband held our sweet girl and she squeezed my finger. Christmas carols were sung by the choir and congregation, then at the very end we happened to sing one verse of Silent Night, my Christmas lullaby to Hudson.

At the conclusion of the service, we walked together as a family to visit him at the church's columbarium, taking Hadley for the first time. Emotions poured over as Max held Hadley, tears in both of our eyes, and he kissed her little hand to then put on Hudson's niche. Our extended family members joined us and for some, it was the first time to see his resting place. A baptism was one of the only memories of something we had done with our son, and here we were with his sister on her baptism day, yet he was there too.

We celebrated her back at our house and we continue to make precious memories with her each day. I can't believe she will be three months old in just a few days. The time has flown by so fast and I know it will only continue. I remember a friend telling me that her babies' baptisms were two of the most special days. The way both my babies' baptisms have occurred, though very different, I have to agree. Thank you to our families, our church family and the special friends who were there to take part in this very special day for us!

Chronicles of Parenting a Living Child After Loss, Edition I

The moment she was placed in my arms, everything changed.

My comparisons from this time and last time ceased once I heard her cries. At that moment, it was a new and different experience. There was a lot of strength and optimism from the time we entered the hospital around 3:00 PM on Friday, October 14. That optimism continued on into the evening and through the hours of the early morning of October 15, but throughout it all there was still a tiny bit of insurmountable fear in the back of my mind. That fear took over during delivery and at one point I remember thinking that she's been in the birth canal too long (she hadn't at all) and I ignored nurse Shirley's half-push prompts because I felt like I needed to push harder to just get her out already, something could still happen (it didn't). The feeling of sweet relief and sheer joy spread throughout us once she was in our arms, safe and sound.

However, her birth story didn't tell the side of grief that was experienced once she arrived. About two hours after she was born, it was noticed that the little noises she was making wasn't her learning to cry and make sounds. It was termed grunting, which indicated that she was having trouble pulling oxygen into her lungs. She was taken from us and they were able to remove the excess amniotic fluid. As mentioned in her birth story, it was a busy night for Labor and Delivery. When it came time to move us to postpartum floor, there were not any rooms available. We were temporarily placed in a room on the antepartum floor - which is where we were taken following our delivery with Hudson until we were ready to go home. These rooms are primarily used for women who are pregnant and need to be hospitalized. Now we were back in the same kind of room we were in when we said goodbye to our son, which took me right back to last time.

Shortly after settling into this tiny temporary room, we realized she was still grunting. The nurse came in and Hadley was taken from us again. It hit me so hard to be back in that room, watching a stranger take my baby from me and wheel them away, door closing behind them. In the back of my mind I knew she was coming back, I knew it wasn't goodbye, I knew it wasn't like last time but in that moment the emotions and my grief got the best of me. This is where my personal version of post traumatic stress started.

About an hour later, the nurse and pediatrician came to see us. They told us that the grunting was still persisting and that we had a few options. They said it could be that there is just a little bit of fluid in there and it would resolve itself within a few hours, it could be pneumonia or another infection, it could be some kind of internal problem that they will need to start running tests for. She recommended that we wait a few hours and keep her in the NICU for observation to see how she does and then if it isn't getting better, we would do x-rays of her chest and start running tests. Now that we had this long awaited child, I hated having to be apart from her. 

We tried to sleep and get some rest as we waited, but my heart was overwhelmed. A few hours later, we were led to the NICU nursery to see her and to work with a lactation consultant. They said she had a posterior tongue tie and that it would be challenging for her to adequately latch, so we also learned how to syringe feed. The pediatrician came by and checked her over again, saying she was doing great and her lungs just needed a little time but that the grunting had stopped so they let her come back to our room with us and to work on obtaining a good latch to nurse her.

By 4:30 PM we were finally moved and settled into a postpartum room, now in a new environment and I could get over that hump, get back to the new and different of this time again. We were nursing her, family came to visit and to meet her, we tried to get our own rest in between.  As we moved into Sunday and throughout that day, we thought we were on the up and up. Except that her bilirubin levels were going up slightly each time checked which indicated jaundice, but we were still in the safe zone. No big deal, I had jaundice, a ton of babies have jaundice. Max held her in the window where the sunbeams came in and the two of them napped together throughout the day, bathing in the sunlight to help that jaundice dissipate.

We were supposed to be discharged on Monday, but early that morning the pediatrician came in to talk to us again. Her first 24 hours, she lost 1% of her birth weight which was normal. But that second 24 hours, she was down an additional 10% of her body weight which was a lot at once and concerning. We thought she was latching better and feeding well, but apparently she was not. The pediatrician on call said she wanted the lactation consultant to come check for a good latch and we'd wait for the blood test results for her jaundice before she will discharge us. After working with the LC for about 20 minutes, they said they just weren't comfortable sending us home yet. We then learned she was now above the seventy-fifth percentile and had moved into the high-risk classification with her jaundice. I had a tearful conversation with the pediatrician and she was aware of our previous birth and loss of Hudson. The team decided to discharge us, but keep Hadley as a patient. While I wasn't their patient anymore, we were to stay together in that room with her as if I were because they weren't going to send us home without our baby again, as long as they could help it. That, I am truly thankful for.

That Monday was a hard day. Aside from already being a sleepy newborn, the jaundice made her even more sleepy. It was nearly impossible to wake her up to try to feed on the schedule they wanted us to have so that she didn't lose anymore weight. However, to help the jaundice, she needed to eat. Throughout the rest of that day, I was broken down so badly. I would have episode after episode of staring at this precious newborn baby, wanting her so badly to open her eyes. It took me right back to last time with Hudson and trying to will him with my mind to wake up. Holding this tiny baby, tears running down my face please wake up, please open your eyes, it absolutely broke me. While I knew she would be fine, this wave of grief and de ja vu consumed me. We worked hard throughout that day to feed her and get her in that indirect sunlight so that they wouldn't have to take her from us to be under lights and receive supplemental formula to gain weight. We were trying to breastfeed and get a good latch, but also cup feeding and syringe feeding to make sure she had enough in her belly. By Tuesday afternoon, her BR levels had lowered, she seemed to be feeding better, and she hadn't lost any additional weight overnight so we were able to take her home.

Finally we were at that moment of being wheeled out of the postpartum floor, holding our living child. As they pushed me down the hallways of Labor and Delivery and to that front door, I clutched Hadley in her little going home outfit that was too big for her though it was a preemie size. I know I had the goofiest smile on my face while at the same time trying to fight back tears. I've been on that wheelchair ride before, but without my baby, a look of horror and disbelief on my face, passing people in the hallway, trying not to look at them and see their face when they looked at me. I clutched this little girl and listened as people gave their congratulations, commented on her big pink bow or how tiny she was or how beautiful she looked. I had tears of joy and pride, tinged with a little bit of sadness because of the memories that flooded back. Because I didn't get to do this part last time.

Max arrived in the circular drive with the car and he put her in the car seat for the first time. I let her grip my finger the whole way home and in exchange, she allowed me to stare at her in awe, with those tears streaming down my face. I held my breath walking in the front door. Max carried the car seat in. We took her out and walked into the nursery. We stood there together, the three of us, in that room. In the room that from the first time we first entered the house with the realtor, we identified it as the nursery. The room we had waited to bring a baby home to. The room we started to create for a little boy. The room we fell to the floor sobbing in when we got home after saying goodbye to that little boy, our first baby. The room that brought us joy again to create the perfect space for her. Now she was here, we had our baby in that room. I held her and just cried because that day had finally come. Afterwards, Max walked her around and introduced her to each space in her house, huge smile on both our faces. 

Throughout these first few weeks at home, both of us would just hold her or stare at her and cry - happy tears, tears because we couldn't believe that she was actually here, that we were finally having these moments together as a little family. I wasn't prepared for all of these overwhelming emotions. At the end of our first week with her, I learned that my placenta had an abnormality discovered once delivered and had been sent off to pathology. I also learned that her umbilical cord was short and had a marginal insertion which meant instead of a normal cord placement in the middle of the placenta, it was on the side. Both of these things can cause a number of risk factors, including a cause for stillbirth. One of the risk factors of a marginal insertion is restricted blood flow to the baby, which would explain the umbilical cord blood pressure issue we had. Between the unknown placenta abnormality and the marginal cord insertion, I felt even more so like she was a miracle. I was so thankful she came when she did and we didn't have to wait another few days for her to arrive. It makes me fearful in thinking about what it could mean for future pregnancies seeing that my uterus seems to create a risky environment for my babies and why neither of these factors were discovered in one of the 20+ sonograms we had. We will discuss pathology report and our questions with our doctor at the 6 week check up but for now, I concentrate on the fact that Hadley is healthy and perfectly fine despite the way things could have turned out.

At every 2 am diaper change and feeding, I rock her in her room. Sometimes I hold her and as I look at her, I cry. I whisper her lullaby songs to her and allow myself the chance for that emotional release of my grief and my joy tangled together. Smelling that sweet baby smell, feeling the weight of her in my arms, hearing her breaths and sighs, seeing her little facial expressions as she sleeps with the occasional raised cheek smile. I wasn't prepared for all the emotions this "fourth trimester" brings, but they are coupled with those of a mother's heart who is parenting one child in her arms and one she longs to hold again.

After losing Hudson, I'll admit, I would get really angry anytime I heard a mom complain about motherhood. I would bite my tongue but always in the back of my mind I thought I'd give anything to have that, you don't know how lucky you are to have your child. Because of that, I have immense guilt when I feel like this is really hard. But it is very hard, for any mother. I have guilt for the times I feel defeated or stressed when we have trouble with feeding, or I am so incredibly tired, or I just don't know what else to do to soothe her. I think that guilt is normal for a mother of loss to feel. I know this is just the beginning of all those feelings. I am tremendously grateful to have this sweet girl with us, to be her mother, to raise her and to love her. I'll take the hard times, all of them with the happy, whatever it may be, just to be able to have them with her at all.  

Welcome to the World, Hadley Jane

My Precious Girl,

Today is November 3. If we were not a high risk pregnancy, this would be the due date we would have been anticipating and counting down toward. Today you would be 40 weeks, instead you are 19 days old! As I write this, you sleep in the Rock and Play next to me. They say when you sleep, we should sleep. I'm exhausted but I can't stop staring at you and I am feeling nostalgic about three weeks ago tomorrow when you decided it was time. I want to remember everything about this, which is why I am writing. I want to remember all of these moments, all of these emotions, every feeling of exhaustion, pride, sadness, joy, fear, triumph - all of it rolled into one.

The morning of October 14 I woke up around 5:00 am, your typical time every day to say good morning mama! You were kicking and moving, but I was also feeling contractions. I had been feeling them since the Sunday before when we went to the hospital to be monitored when your heart rate was elevated. The contractions had not increased in intensity and were still very irregular throughout the week but Friday morning, they were feeling a little stronger. At our 37 week appointment the day before, I had moved from 1.5 cm dilated on Sunday to 4 cm dilated on Thursday. We talked with our doctor about how Tuesday morning would go when we'd arrive to induce labor. My doctor felt like we would probably make it to then, but she said she wouldn't be surprised if you came on your own before.

I took my time getting ready that Friday morning. It was my last day of work before maternity leave started. We had a busy weekend and I planned to spend that upcoming Monday at my final appointment, followed by a prenatal massage, then doing any last minute errands before your Daddy and I had one final date night at one of our favorite restaurants. That morning I took my 37 week photo which was the last bump shot with you!

I got to work and felt a little off. I was trying to wrap up everything but in the back of my mind, kept wondering if these contractions were really feeling a little more real, or if it was just in my head? I finished my to-do list around noon and said my goodbyes to the team. On my way out, both my boss and another team member predicted you would come sometime that day or over the weekend because of the full moon.

I got home around 12:30 and felt the need to feel close to Hudson. I held his lamb, sat in his rocker and wrote him a letter. I was feeling very nostalgic about his birth and very emotional. After about an hour, I realized that contractions had become much more regular - in fact, incredibly regular. I decided to start timing them just for fun. I didn't think we would get to time contractions so I was somewhat excited to do that. After about 30 minutes had passed, I noticed a pattern, that they were every 4 minutes for exactly 1:05 or 1:15 min. After an hour of doing this, and checking your heartbeat on the fetal monitor, I let your Daddy know that we may be heading to the hospital. He said he was on his way home! I called my doctor's nurse and she told me to head to the hospital and check in for observation in Labor and Delivery because it sounded like we could be in labor. Daddy got home around 2:30, we grabbed the hospital bag that I had packed, kissed Georgie pup goodbye and had our moment of could this be it?! after all. Leaving the house we were about 40/60 that the next time we came home, it would be with you in tow.

We got to the hospital and checked in with Labor and Delivery Observation. They hooked me up to monitor your heartbeat and the contractions for 30 minutes. During this time, we had a very special person who set the tone for our experience, Nurse Jill. My doctor's nurse, Stephanie, had already called down to them and prepped her for us. She knew all about us and was ready for us. She was so wonderful and I felt she was a special angel placed to be there for us on that day and just what we needed to begin this experience. During that first thirty minutes, Daddy and I sat in our triage-like, curtained off room and overheard a scenario I recognized all too well. A woman had come in and she was in a panic. In tears she was frantically asking if her baby was okay. We listened as they tried to calm her and look for a heartbeat. Tears fell down my cheeks as I heard the sound of a fetal heart monitor searching for a heartbeat and her scared stifled sobs. Your Daddy reached for my hand. It took a bit, but they did find a heartbeat and I could breath again, but it really rattled me. When Nurse Jill came back into our area, it's like she knew. She talked to us about Hudson, she said his name, she said we had a special angel watching over us. She told us that we were going to get you here safe and sound.

At the conclusion of that first 30 minutes, she had tracked the same contraction pattern I had at home but they were now every 3 minutes. I was 5 cm dilated so she told us we were going to walk this baby out. We were instructed to briskly walk around for 30 minutes and then come back, that we would do this three times and after each 30 minute set of walking, we would check your heart rate and my contractions. Throughout our walks, I definitely had stronger and closer together contractions. We walked all around that hospital and the exterior in those 30 minute increments with brief check ins.

After the last walk, we went back in and I was 7 cm dilated. Jill called the doctor on-call for my doctor's practice. She came back in to give us the option of going home and seeing how things continue to progress on their own, that I'd probably be back within 24 hours. Or, if it was okay with me, she recommended we go ahead and have this baby. We chose the latter, though it meant that Dr. Kurian, who we felt so close to throughout this whole experience, would not be the one able to deliver you. The doctor who was on-call, Dr. Myears, was someone we had seen once when our doctor was sick. She was very caring and compassionate, and she knew our history. Having met her before set us at ease and we were comfortable that she would be delivering you. Jill looked at us and said, let's go have your rainbow baby, she's ready to meet you. Shift change had started but Jill stayed an extra hour to make sure that we were transitioned well and that everyone who was going to be working with us through the delivery process was in the know of what the plan would be. On the Monday morning following your arrival, Jill came up to check in on us, gave us big hugs and had the chance to meet you!

Remember Nurse Katie from Hudson's labor and delivery? She was planning to be there on October 18 as our doula and photographer - the "doulagrapher" as she called it. Since you moved up the timeline, I immediately sent her a message to let her know that plans had changed and I was in labor now. With three kids, a nursing career and photography business, I fully didn't expect that she would be able to be there, but the amazing person she is made it happen. She met us at the hospital with camera in hand, smile on face and there with us through the nearly 12 hours of labor, again. My doctor's nurse, Stephanie, had also been a huge support throughout this process and she came up to be part of "Team Hadley" as well.

With Nurse Stephanie after you arrived

We were settled into our delivery room by 6:45 and shortly thereafter, there was a knock on the door. A familiar face popped into our room and I nearly burst into tears. For anyone who has read Hudson's birth story, you may remember that the first person to enter the delivery room after I had been hooked up to the IV was the sister of a friend of mine. She was the resident on the floor and was coming in to check my vitals and Hudson's positioning via sonogram. It made me immediately comforted to have a familiar face there in my darkest hours. This time, Mallory was doing rounds on another floor but saw our name on the board and came to say hello. I haven't seen her since Hudson's delivery and to have her pop her head in was really special. We exchanged big hugs this time and smiles as we caught up. 

Our main nurse for the labor and delivery experience was Nurse Shirley. She was a very different personality type than I thought I would need for this, but it turned out to be exactly what we needed. Shirley's big personality kept us on our toes, kept us laughing, and kept us distracted.

My family arrived by 9 PM and kept us company well into the early morning. The plan that Jill and Dr. Myears had was to start a pitocin drip to help progress labor, to get the epidural and then break my water. However, Shirley felt like my body was doing this on its own and she wanted it to keep doing that as long as we could. We took more walks, used the medicine balls and then around 10 pm, it was decided to go ahead and break my water. Contractions really picked up then, fast and furious. It was apparently a very busy night, maybe there really is something to the full moon and women going into labor after all, but it took almost an hour for the anesthesiologist to arrive in our room after requesting the epidural.  That gave me quite the taste of true labor pains and your Daddy and Katie helped me get through them. The anesthesiologist who gave me my epidural with Hudson came in the room and was part of this birth story too. This time, it worked correctly on the first try and I was comfortable throughout the remaining hours of labor without needing to increase it or have a new one.

Midnight was nearing and we all started to take bets on when you would arrive. With Hudson, once my water broke, delivery came quickly after. I thought it would be similar with you. I thought you'd come before 2 am, your Daddy said 3 am. Nurse Shirley said you were your own baby, she thinks you'll come after 4 am. I sat on medicine balls, I had a "peanut" ball positioned under my legs as I laid down to help you progress. We all slept a little on and off as each hour went by. Finally, around 4:15 am, they said I was completely dilated and effaced, it was time to call Dr. Myears. This time I wasn't scared. I didn't want to keep you where you were to stay part of me as long as possible. I couldn't wait to have you in my arms. I was ready to meet you and start this life as your mama. There were smiles and words of beautiful promise. She's almost here, they said to me. Let's get our girl, I said to them.

By 4:30 am, the room was full with "Team Hadley" and as everyone took position, I had to focus because it started to become all too familiar. I needed Daddy by me, I needed his hand in mine and at my side so we could receive you together. I felt overwhelmed with emotion and Shirley talked me through this. She said this time would be different, it may take longer, to listen to her cues. She instructed me on full pushes and half pushes. They had an oxygen mask this time, I needed that to get big breaths.

At 5:08 am on October 15, you arrived. Of course you did, I should have known. That 5:00 am window was always your time of day. You were 7 lb, 3 oz and 20 inches of pure perfection. I watched as you were lifted and I could see you in plain view, waiting for your scream. I saw you before I could hear you and before I could finish my thought of why isn't she crying, there it was. The most beautiful sound I have ever heard. You screamed and you cried. As soon as I heard it I laughed. I wanted a river of tears to flow but laughter was how my emotions were expressed instead. They laid you on my chest and your Daddy buried himself in us. Nothing was like the last time anymore, it was now its own experience. You were here, you were breathing, we looked into your eyes, your arms and legs moving as you were laid on my chest. In those moments, time stood still for just a little while.

I watched through tear-blurred eyes as eventually they handed you to your Daddy and he walked you to the other side of the room where the nurses weighed you, measured you, did your APGAR tests and gave you a sponge bath. I watched as your he protectively looked on, with your hand clasped around his finger.

He put your first diaper on you and he continues to do that as often as he can - I listen as he talks to you, he says it's your bonding time together and it started in that delivery room with your first diaper.

They lifted you into his arms again and he walked back across that room to me and we spent time together, just the three of us, as a little family before we introduced you to your grandparents who were patiently waiting in the waiting room.

While we were in the hospital, you met two of your uncles, three of your great grandparents, two great aunts and a great uncle. You met some of Mommy and Daddy's special friends who love you beyond measure. And now here we are. You are perfect in every way. You and your brother resemble each other slightly but that's maybe because I want you to. Every now and then I'll catch a glimpse of him in you, but you are your own little lady with your own features and characteristics that we will be able to watch grow and change. You have the biggest cheeks and a dimpled chin. Your Daddy's eyes and the softest skin. Your hair is lighter than Hudson's and without any curl. You have the longest fingers attached to the most precious chubby little hands. I count your toes and rub your feet. Your nose continues to look more and more like mine, and like Hudson's. I rub our noses together and cry to be able to do nosies with you the way I did with him. You have the sweetest yawns and sounds.

I will never forget the moment that I realized you knew me. It was our first full day in the hospital. You were wailing and then quieted at the sound of my voice. You gripped my finger and were instantly calmed while the nurses poked at you. I knew I loved you from the time I found out about you. I bonded with you throughout my pregnancy and loved you more by the day. Seeing you for the first time and feeling you on my chest was one of the most beautiful moments I've ever experienced. But watching you as you recognized me and knew I was yours, that was a moment I didn't know to expect or how to prepare for and one that takes my breath away every time it happens. I watch you with your Daddy and how you both adore one another. You snuggle up to him and do not fuss when he holds you. You know him as yours too.

You came on your own time and on Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. A day that the year prior had brought us pain as we remember Hudson in our raw emotional state. But this year on October 15, you restored our hope by bringing us the greatest joy and a redeeming love to show that beauty can rise from the ashes.

Hadley, you are our miracle. We are so thankful to have you and that you are ours. I will not say that all the pain we endured on this road to getting you was worth it, that you were worth the wait. No, because that diminishes your brother and is not a fair representation of either one of you. However, it is because of what we went through that makes you that much more special and wonderful and incredible. Our promise to you is that we will love you unconditionally, we will teach you, grow you, support you, and provide you with everything we can to enrich your life with love. Welcome to the world baby girl, I can't wait to do this life together and see where your story takes you.

Nosies,

Mommy

Confessions of an Anxious Mama: Pregnancy After Loss Edition V - The Final Countdown

Today is Tuesday, October 11. As I lay in bed this morning, I realized at this time next week - if not before then - we will be at the hospital in labor. We've reached the one week countdown for our scheduled induction for Hadley's arrival. Immediately, Europe's Final Countdown started on loop in my head.

However, it's been an interesting few days. I can proudly say that I made it to 36w3d in this Pregnancy After Loss (PAL) until my paranoia got the best of me and I ran out the door, hopped in the car and drove like a bat out of hell to the hospital thinking something could be wrong.

It's no secret that PAL is scary stuff. People can tell you until they are blue in the face how everything will be fine, lightening won't strike twice, etc. However, they don't know that and for a Parent of Loss trying to do this again, every day can be a struggle to release those scary and anxious thoughts from your mind. Those going through this or have been through this, can I get an amen to that? I think almost every mama I've talked to who has gone on to deliver after a loss has their own version of this kind of story, so here's my account of the OMG, something is wrong! moment.

We had our 36 week appointment on Thursday of last week. My blood pressure was a little elevated and she had one spot in her cord out of the four checked that had umbilical cord blood pressure elevated in the 3's. All the other spots checked were still in the 2's, so my doctor was comfortable, but she just said I needed to rest. I was getting sick with my annual fall allergies, overdid myself a little bit at work the day before, sleep hadn't been great that week, so I welcomed the doctor's orders for rest.

Fast forward to Sunday morning. I had felt really crummy due to allergies since Wednesday, increasingly more by the day, and woke up feeling the worst on Sunday. My lower abdomen hurt but I thought it was just round ligament pain and overall discomfort. I posted this on instagram and decided to take a shower to get ready for the day. An hour later, I was rushing to the hospital.

Careful what you post, it could come true. 

Max had been invited to play golf with my dad and brothers. He said he didn't want to leave me but I told him to go and enjoy, it may be a while before he gets out on the course again. While the boys of the family played golf, my mom wanted to take me for my last mani/pedi before baby. After all, she had this dream on Friday night and has been saying for a few weeks now that she has this feeling Hadley will come earlier than our planned date, like I did (I came 5 weeks ahead of schedule). On his way out the door, Max joked - don't go into labor without me! I told him very funny. I took a shower and started to get ready. My lower back had been hurting so it felt really nice to just let the hot water run over it. Just before I started drying my hair, my eyes caught a glimpse of the home fetal heart monitor on my bedside table just sitting there and so I decided to take a listen, because why not? I hadn't listened from home in about a week, it gives me a little pep in my step to check in on her and hear those beautiful beats.

I found her heartbeat right away but it was fast. Really fast. Like, uncomfortably fast. Not just fast, it was rapid. During our appointment with the hospital's Fetal Care Center at 31 weeks for the umbilical cord scare, that specialist said if her heartbeat ever rose above 160, that could be cause for concern, it could mean she was in fetal distress. Now this is not in every circumstance but because we were experiencing an umbilical cord issue again, it was something we needed to take watch of and a sign for us not to ignore. I watched as the numbers kept rising and nearing 160, then over 160 and they went from green to red on the display screen. They got to 171, then kept climbing to 187. I held it there for a good three-ish minutes without them coming down at all. I took a break, trying to stay calm, and then did it again with the same result. I texted my nurse and then decided to check one more time. When they hit the 180's again I decided nope, not going to sit here and ponder this, I just need to head straight to the hospital. I was trying to talk myself off the anxiety platform I quickly scaled up in that last 10 minutes, that it could be my monitor that's messed up. The anxiety rebutted that it could also be correct because the readings have been pretty spot on this whole time. Either way, I wanted to make sure everything was okay and not take any chances. I didn't have signs that I picked up on with Hudson, I didn't have a chance to go to the hospital and make sure he was okay. If something was so much as slightly off with her, you bet I was going to take every precaution I could.

I called Max but I knew they were teeing off right around that time and his phone was probably in the cart and/or on silent. I left a message and then called my mom who was expecting me at her house by that point. I told her hey, so change of plans, don't be alarmed but meet me at Baylor. Max called back and I told him everything as of right now is okay, to stay put, mom was meeting me and I'd call if something isn't right. That I feel her, there is a heartbeat, I'm just going in for reassurance. I prayed the whole way to the hospital, even talking to Hadley telling her to calm her little self down in there, and to Hudson to keep watch over little sis and mama.

I waddled into Labor and Delivery and immediately the icy-hot feeling was trickling throughout my veins. You know that feeling? Like when you realize you messed up and did something wrong. Or when cop car lights are behind you and you think you are about to be pulled over. That's the feeling I get when I'm overcome with nerves and fear. Stepping in there again after the last time was something I was started to feel very emotional and anxious about. However, my adrenaline was pumping and I had one focus, making sure Hadley was okay, so I quickly dismissed what was conjuring inside and just concentrated on trying to find someone who could check her heartbeat as soon as possible. I ran into a nurse in the hallway and told her I was a high risk pregnancy, I'm 36 and a half weeks, my baby's heartbeat is very rapid and in the 180's, I want to make sure everything is okay. She told me to go to the ER and proceeded to give me directions.

I took off speed waddling down the hallway and then of course, in my typical fashion, I got lost. I couldn't remember what she said after the second left turn, wait was it a left or was it a right? Not the best time to have pregnancy brain. Luckily someone else turned the corner and breathless by this point, I simply looked at him and asked ER? He said down the elevator to the basement and follow the signs. Y'all, it seemed like a mile away and the never ending hallway of twists and turns that just kept going and going and going. It was pretty dingy, walls lined with trauma beds, I halfway expected to pass a door that read "morgue" and completely lose my sh*t.

I finally made it to the ER. I was passed to three different people behind the desk before a nurse came to the window. I was able to calmly say that I was worried about my baby's heart rate being too high and feared she was in distress, that I am high risk and lost my son to stillbirth 16 months ago due to an umbilical cord accident. I am pretty sure I had one of those tooth-grit-white-knuckle moments where I said between my teeth I just need to make sure she's okay. As if everyone who worked in the hospital just walked around with a fetal heart monitor in their pocket and could pull it out to take a listen right there. Rational. This angelic woman peacefully told me that since I am so far along, I needed to go straight to Labor and Delivery. To which at that point all the hormones and emotions flooded out and I lost my composure to choke out but they told me to come to you. Tears were falling, I just wanted to hear her heartbeat right then and there, thinking if this were a ticking time bomb we are really doing a crappy job of handling it.

She immediately hopped up, got a wheelchair and a male nurse with a clipboard. They sat me down, I filled out a form in my best hand-shaking, frantic chicken scratch, and he began to wheel me back through the basement maze hallways, up the elevator and back to Labor and Delivery. It was much quicker in a wheel chair. We approached the desk I couldn't find on my way in. That desk. The same desk I checked into last time. It had an uncomfortable "deja vu" feeling. The emotions were rising again but I pushed them back down. Composure was back and I was able to calmly share why I was there with the receptionist. We started paperwork and luckily I had already pre-registered so that process was short and sweet. My mom texted that she was parking. They took me back into a room and had me put on a hospital gown, then proceeded to hook me up to monitor Hadley. Last time I did this, I was in tears, clutching my belly, trying to get one last glimpse of myself pregnant with Hudson.

I sat there on the bed, legs crossed, back straight just looking around the room thinking here it is, I'm back here again. I could hear her heartbeat on the monitor and it was just as rapid as it was when I was at home, but it was still a heartbeat and I was at a hospital so if something needed to happen, it could happen. I had been anxious about being in a room like this again, but this room was different than last time. Still a delivery room, but it was much smaller and just different than before. I was calm. The nurse came back in and had me lay on my side. She explained that they were going to monitor for a bit and in that time, her heartbeat may fluctuate but what we want is it to establish a baseline in the 150s or lower. That if we did that, all was good.

She then asked me if I was feeling any cramping or in pain at all, I said my lower back has been in pain and I've had some low crampy aches in my abdomen. She asked if I was feeling it at that moment, and I told her yes. She smiled and said that I was actually having contractions. Oh. I didn't remember what those felt like really because I was in such a different state the first time and had the epidural pretty quickly. I realized I woke up feeling them but wrote it off as though it were normal growing belly pains.

My mom came into the room. We looked at each other and kind of laughed. She said I told you she could come early. A little bit later the nurse came in and was taking my entire medical history, which helped the time pass by. A doctor came in and she let me know that Hadley was looking just fine, heartbeat was lowering - though still jumping up a bit - it increased with my contractions and she was reacting to them. She did a sonogram to check Hadley's heart, to see her practice breathing and movement. I hadn't had lunch yet and that time of day was usually a calm time for H unless I've had a meal and then she reacts to food. Her heart looked great but she was napping and not cooperating with what they needed to see. They brought in some juice and mom had a chocolate square she gave me, so about 10 min later we were able to see some practice breathing and she started moving for us. Of course, as soon as I was getting in my car later, she was jumping those legs around but just wanted to be stubborn when put on the spot and it mattered for her to move.

The doctor told me that I was about 1.5 cm dilated and contractions were somewhat irregular and at a low strength. Therefore, I was not in active labor. About an hour of being hooked up they reported that Hadley was just fine and I could head home. I had an appointment scheduled for 11:00 am Monday so we all felt good that I'd be back to check in again within 24 hours. It was the right thing to go with my gut and not ignore it. Her heart rate was high, it was too elevated, but it lowered itself and it was in response to my body preparing for a pending delivery. She wasn't in fetal distress, thankfully.

Lately with delivery becoming closer and closer, I've thought a lot about being back in the same place that Hudson was delivered. The whole experience and being in that same environment again. It's made me really emotional the closer we get to that. This episode broke the ice on that. It was like the practice run for it. There were times it started to feel overwhelming, but then it went away as quickly as it came on. Just like I was having the anxiety about reaching the week of loss, we had the scare a week and half before that and implemented increased appointments and monitoring, bed rest then a modified bed rest and reduced activity schedule. I entered that week with peace and more calm than I would have otherwise. I believe that Sunday's experience is helping in the same way as we are counting down the single digit days.

Monday's appointment went well, she is measuring at 6 lb and 11 oz. Obviously labor did not begin and my mom's premonition of 10/10 didn't happen. We head back to the doctor on Thursday and will be 37 weeks. We are just taking it as easy as possible until then, hoping not to go into labor before Thursday. After Thursday, if it happens, my doctor is fine with it! We will most likely make it next Tuesday and be induced, but there's a chance she will come on her time. Either way, I'm glad my body is starting to do this on its own a bit and we will just see what happens. Most importantly I'm calm going into this. I feel at peace with it. I'm ready for it. I've let go of "the plan" we have in place and I'm ready for whatever comes between now and October 18. For the time being, I do not have any fears surrounding it. These are big personal milestones on this journey and I'm thankful.

Confessions of an Anxious Mama: Pregnancy After Loss Edition IV

3D/4D sono picture taken at 34w4d - a cheeky smile and a thumbs up, straight in the nose. 

Ever since our umbilical cord scare at the beginning of September, Hadley has continued to be on the up and up. At last week's 34 week appointment, her levels were the best they had looked since August. The modified bed rest has helped, and I also believe our steadfast support network of prayer warriors have added to this outcome as well. Her levels look wonderful, her movements have been great, and she is a growing girl estimating close to 6 lbs.

In my pregnancy with Hudson, I remember the tremendous guilt I later felt for this, but around the beginning of the third trimester I became sad and a bit scared. I was sad that I had "twelvish" weeks left with Max as just the two of us. That for seven years (4.5 years dating, 2.5 years married) it had been just us doing things however, and really whenever, we wanted to. We added George the pup to the mix two years ago and sure that changed things a bit, but not greatly. Now we were talking about a baby. A baby who would become a toddler, who would become a kid, who would become a teenager, who would become an adult. We were talking about a human being that we were responsible for now, forever and always. I was scared of what if we changed? What if we grew apart? What if our marriage wasn't ready for this? What if we resented each other over parenting issues? What if we would never be the same?

I remember talking to a friend about those thoughts, asking if this was normal, to which she assured me she thought all the same things around the same point of her pregnancy. Of course on the forefront of my mind, I couldn't wait to have Hudson with us. I had so much love for that baby already and couldn't wait to be his mama and see my husband as a father. There was just this secondary emotional thought train going on of missing the "us" that we've been because it would inevitably change.

Then, the unthinkable happened. Our son died. Suddenly and without warning we were thrust into a world of grief that included pain, confusion, anger and sadness. There were times we were more connected than ever, other times we were disconnected and needing different things. Within the first week of our loss, we were warned to protect our marriage because grief can tear a couple apart. I remember on one of the nights I couldn't sleep within that first month, I had been watching TV on the couch and I laid my head down with thoughts swirling. I remembered that I had been having those feelings of sadness surrounding the fact that it wouldn't just be the two of us anymore. I got so upset with myself about it, racked with guilt, that I made myself sick. I was so worried about how our life would look with another in it, I never stopped to think about how our life would look without that life anymore. How could I ever have felt that way? How could I have thought so selfishly? Now he's gone and I'd give anything to have him, to have the three of us, to have everything change because it would have been for the better. The alternative change that we got instead was the absolute worst.

This pregnancy, we have been so caught up in all the emotions surrounding this new life and the anticipation of getting to the point where she is here. Today we are 35 weeks. It was a long afternoon of appointments but they went well and Hadley is just perfect.

On Monday before our sono appointment, Max and I grabbed a quick lunch beforehand at a little cafe near the hospital. As we were sitting there eating, he said you know what I thought of today? We aren't going to have the moment of rush and excitement of "ahh my water broke, let's get to the hospital!" He said it in an upbeat way but I could tell it made him a little glum. That was a thought that occurred to me over a year ago at one of our post-partum follow up appointments after Hudson. At the time, it had made me sad too. My doctor had told us then that going forward, we will be high risk and in any pregnancy we have in the future, she will induce early. I remember feeling robbed of that experience where a husband and wife are frantically, yet excitedly, rushing to the hospital because it's time! However, it's a romanticized idea which we will have in a different way. Now knowing what we've been through and the path we've walked, I'm okay with how it will happen for us because I'd rather be safe than take chances.

We are "two-ish" weeks away from her arrival. This morning, I got up and walked into her room. I turned on the little lamp by her bed and just look at everything, taking it all in. Her books filled with special messages from friends sitting on shelves. Her crib now all dressed and put together. The little nightstand next to it with her swaddles, pacifiers and blankies. Her chest of drawers with pretty trinkets and Hudson's shadow box of special things. The rocker we will spend hours upon hours in and the antique lace and peach ribbon hanging from the dream catcher on the wall above it. Her changing table area with everything neatly sorted and waiting. I run my feet along the soft rug that someday she'll play on. I look in her toy basket at the sensory books, stuffed animals and other toys collected. I open her closet to see a full array of clothes hanging, her shoes, the many cases of diapers in all sizes, and various other items like the bumbo and boppy lounger, in position ready for use. The peach and ivory crepe paper flowers are the last thing to do and are waiting to be hung above the crib as soon as the rest arrive.

Time has surprisingly passed by quickly to me and I feel like these next two-ish weeks will fly by and then it'll be time. I want to exhale with relief but I'm still holding my breath. We are ready for her, we see life with her in it, we just need to get through the actual day of that happening. This week, I had the feeling for the first time that oh my goodness, it's almost here. Our lives as we know them will change again - but in the best way. It won't be just the two of us, doing whatever we want to do at any time. It will be about her, it will be about the three of us and Hudson watching over. This time, it doesn't scare me. This time there is a piece of me that wants to skip past the hospital part, because we've had that part before. Though I know this time will be so different and of course the moment I've been waiting for is to hear her and see her for the first time, I just want to get to the part when we are walking through our front door with her, home at last as a family, and starting that life together.

231 Days

32 weeks

Today is day 230 of this pregnancy. That's 32 weeks and 6 days.

Day 230 was the last day of my pregnancy with Hudson and day 231 was the day we delivered and said goodbye. As we entered 32 weeks, there has been an ominous weight I've felt, a presence of sadness. The scare we had with Hadley's umbilical cord two weeks ago seems to have curbed the anxious feelings and fear during this tough milestone week of loss, but the sadness remains. The modified rest has kept my stress levels low and the twice a week appointments have helped me feel more at ease knowing she is doing well. Reaching this day is something I've anticipated since before I knew we were pregnant again. The time of loss. You try to keep it out of your mind but it is always in there, looming. I am so thankful to have this day sandwiched between appointments, giving me peace of mind and comfort in my heart to get through it. Yesterday we got to see Hadley, her levels were not elevated, she was doing wonderfully. They measured her and estimated 4 lb, 11 oz. Today I woke up in a funk but as soon as I started moving, so did she, providing immediate comfort entering this day. Before I left for the office, I listened to her heart beat which was strong and steady, the additional little push I needed.

Over the last week, Hudson has weighed so heavily on my heart. I find myself trying to remember everything I can about that last week I carried him, unknowing that it was our last together. I wish we had this chance with him, this chance to make sure his life wasn't in jeopardy. He deserved that, but we didn't know. We went to visit him over the weekend and standing there at 32 weeks with his sister, staring at his name in stone, was both painful and healing. Watching my husband put his hand on Hudson's niche and say we miss you buddy, as I kiss the stone saying we love you with tears falling, holding onto one another through that pain and the release. One day we will bring Hadley and visit him as a family.

Today as I was getting ready, I was looking through the "maternity dress" section of my closet and came upon the dress. The navy maternity dress I wore on day 230 last time. I have avoided it ever since, and haven't worn it again. I always skip right past it on purpose, but today I took it off the hanger and folded it. It's not a dress I want to have anymore.

Tonight we attend the newborn care class at our hospital. A class we had enrolled in previously but never got the chance to take. Tomorrow I go back to my doctor again for the 33 week visit and I enter a new phase of this Pregnancy After Loss, the part I didn't get to last time. At 33 weeks I was delivering our son and saying goodbye, leaving the hospital without my baby and entering our home empty and broken. This time I will wake up on day 1 of 33 weeks and cling to the belief that we will meet our living, breathing daughter within 5 weeks. It will be day 231 of this pregnancy but the first day of a new week we didn't get to experience previously.

We will celebrate it.

We will have faith in it.

Staring Fear in the Face

This is what the doppler image of a cord scan during a biophysical profile looks like. They measure the cord in various places to get a reading which comes from the peaks and valleys of the imaging at the bottom, indicating the flow of oxygen and blood through the arteries within the umbilical cord. 

My last post talked about cord accidents in general, the research behind them, identifying different types, how this impacted us and how women who have had a cord accident are at an increased risk of having another cord-related incident.

Entering this pregnancy, I knew there was that risk because what I read about them last year. My doctor knows those risks and that is why we have had this increased monitoring and why I am and always will be classified as a high risk pregnancy. I didn't want to believe it could actually happen again but of course it has been a fear which has driven some anxiety lately because of the point of this pregnancy that we have reached - nearing the 32/33 week mark when we lost Hudson. I haven't really been sleeping well, I have been a lot more emotional than usual, and have been feeling rather on edge. We went to our 31 week appointment on September 1 and were confronted with news that made us stare our fears in the face.

At our 31 week sonogram last Thursday, Hadley presented with high blood pressure flow in three places of her umbilical cord. The ultrasound tech checked a few different spots and the levels didn't sit right with her. It was enough of a jump in her scores from previous weeks to warrant concern. We were none the wiser walking out of the ultrasound room and went about our merry way to wait for my doctor. When our doctor came in, she was in good spirits and started by saying that Hadley looks beautiful but that something new has come up and she didn't want us to panic, that we are catching it early and there are things we can do. She started to explain that the blood pressure in her umbilical cord was elevated which can be problematic and we are going to take every precaution there is given our past with Hudson's cord accident. She let us know that best case scenario is that it could go back to normal on its own and it could just be situational. That it could mean bed rest. That it could be the beginning of a developing problem and could mean I'm admitted to the hospital to be monitored more closely. It could mean we deliver that day if needed.

Try hearing that last one and not panicking. Suddenly my baby's life felt like a waiting game and I was back in a position of fear in that doctor's office. I didn't know how much of her approach was in efforts to keep me calm and what I wasn't being told. I didn't know the extent of how serious it was or what it could become. I didn't know what this would mean for Hadley in this very moment and each one after for the next 6 weeks.

I sat there partially processing and the other part stunned, my husband immediately taking on his calm role of support. I blurted out that I felt hiccups yesterday and had a melt down the night about it because what hiccups could mean if they occur too often. Now, I had only felt them one time, but my mind went to the scary place. I felt hiccups with Hudson at this exact time in my pregnancy. I only felt them three times with him over the course of two weeks, which is in no way excessive, but it still haunts me. The fact that I felt his in the two weeks leading up to his passing and now I was feeling hers at that same week mark and there seemed to be some kind of cord related issue again pushed me over the edge. She told me that we are going to get through this, we are being proactive and her nurse was in the process of calling another fetal high risk specialist for a second evaluation. That was our next step and we will determine from there, that we have a plan.

As they worked to get in touch with them and send over my medical records, we were told to go downstairs to the hospital cafeteria and eat, to try to relax and if we don't hear from them, call in an hour. Riddle me this - how could I possibly eat or relax!? My stomach was in knots, I felt sick and the last scenario she mentioned was going through my mind what if we have to deliver today at 31 weeks? We waited nearly two hours before getting the call to head over to the hospital's Fetal Care Center. I was going crazy thinking what if something happens to her in this time, doing kick counts and recording her movements in my phone to monitor her activity. I have to tell you how amazing my husband is in tough situations. He kept us calm, at as much peace as possible, and distracted as best as he could. He knows how to handle my reactive nature and he is the eternal optimist.

The other doctor we saw was phenomenal with us and very compassionate regarding our previous cord accident loss. Before he started, he laid it out there for us though. He said that he will not take any chances and that if she so much as looked at him wrong on the ultrasound, he would admit us or send us over there to deliver via emergency c-section. By the time I got into see him, it was nearly 3 hours after the initial scan. He looked at the cord in depth in several spots and in two of them, the levels had stabilized to normal realm of comfort. In one area, the numbers were still slightly elevated and a little further apart, but not to the point where they felt we needed to monitor her in the hospital or the need to deliver her immediately.

Want to know something interesting he told us? After we talked about Hudson, he said there are more babies that die before birth in the state of Texas than women who die of breast cancer each year. It is a harrowing fact and one we should pay more attention to. That was eye opening for me but it reinstated his passion for what he does and made me feel in very good hands.

He spent a lot of time evaluating various aspects of her development that could indicate any kind of cord restriction issue, like fluid build up in the brain and heart chambers. Both were completely clear and functioning beautifully. Her heart rate was at a strong 151, and she is growing like a weed. He even took the time to point out a fat roll, so sister is getting what she needs, which is a wonderful sign so far. At the conclusion of the scan, he explained to us what the imaging of the cord blood pressure readings meant. To be honest, I can't fully remember all the different medical terms and explanation of what was happening. I was clinging to every word but not completely processing it because I was waiting for bad news. Essentially, what I was able to gather from the little of the conversation that I retained, is that the cord will go through times where it will constrict and get tighter which will drive up the blood pressure in the arteries through it. This can happen due to maternal anxiety, stress, lack of sleep. Even though my blood pressure is not elevated, he said I need to rest because it effects hers. He and my doctor decided that I am to be on bed rest until my next appointment the following Tuesday when we will go back and do another BPP and most importantly, check that cord flow. At that time, we will look at our course of action for keeping her safe and healthy for the next 6 weeks or until we deliver, whichever comes first. With elevated blood pressure flow in the cord, the risk it can pose is not a sudden thing, it is gradual so they were comfortable with me being home over the long weekend and checking again in a few days.

We were told to be prepared that we may not make it to 37 weeks, but there's nothing saying that we won't. I have a perpetual need to understand and be prepared for things that can come my way. Some may call that being a planner. Guilty. We went into that appointment ready to tell our doctor that we had decided on the date we wanted to induce, ha! Throughout the weekend, I had to fight my need to know everything and start googling so that I don't drive my anxiety up more. I started to look it up on my phone in the hospital as we waited, then read a few sentences in an expecting mom's forum and decided not to read anymore. I needed to just listen to what my doctors say and go to their nurse with questions. I practiced some extreme self control for my nature.

So over the last five days, I've rested. I've finished Parenthood, started Narcos season 2 and spent a lot of time browsing online Labor Day sales to get post-partum recovery items ready. I sat in the glider supervising as Max finished some things in her nursery, like chandelier installation. We are trying to finish things in case her arrival comes sooner than planned. That initial 24 hours was not easy, I was a headcase. I had a hard time sleeping because of all the what ifs swimming in my head, however, it tapered off. Throughout those five days, her movement was great, I checked her heart rate daily and it was strong and consistent with the numbers we've been seeing.

We went back to the doctor today. Hadley started moving around this morning at 5 am so I had immediate comfort starting the day. Our sonogram today revealed that her levels are looking good and are in the range we want them to be in. Bed rest did it's job and we want it to stay this way. We will go in twice a week from here til delivery day, and more if needed. By slowing down with my schedule, restricting physical activity and cutting back my work hours, they feel like this should help contain her umbilical cord blood pressure to safe levels and keep her out of additional risk.

Thursday marks 32 weeks, the beginning of a time frame that I have been anxious about because the very end of that week became the end of our pregnancy last time. Our prayer request first and foremost is for Hadley to remain safe and healthy and for my anxiety to decrease to help with that. My doctor said that if we have to deliver her at anytime, she will be a NICU baby but a NICU baby is a living baby and we will be in excellent hands at our hospital to see her through to coming home. Of course, all we want is a living baby and we will do whatever it takes for that to happen. As her parents, we also want an as-healthy-as-possible baby second to that. We would like to be able to keep her cooking as long as we can and to get to that goal mark of 37 weeks, however, if inside the womb becomes more risky than being on the outside, we are becoming prepared for that.

We have confidence in our medical team. We believe them when they say we will get her here safe and sound. Even with that, it's still hard. It's hard for me when I feel like my body is somehow responsible and I want to understand why the umbilical cord is now an issue in both of my pregnancies and what that can mean in the future. That's really difficult to deal with and I've caught myself dwelling on it and making my head spin, but it's not something we can get caught up in, especially right now. Staying calm has never been more important.

We are thankful for the good news received today giving us some much needed relief. We are thankful to have a wonderful team of medical professionals who have the attitude that there is no such thing as too careful as we go forward. We are thankful for our network of those holding our hands through this. Thank you for following us on this road and supporting us in thought, prayer and action!