Boy or Girl?

Final sonogram picture before delivery, who will you be little one?

Going through a pregnancy without knowing gender has been something that I've pleasantly surprised myself with the ability to do, but with it has come a lot of questions when it comes to gender. As a perpetual planner, this kind of goes against every fiber in my being. When receiving the question, my answer to that has been that I've wanted to legitimately be surprised, therefore, try to be confused without a strong intuition one way or the other, for several reasons. I will say that I've had gut feelings almost immediately with both Hudson and Hadley that have been accurate. It's hard not to, and though I tried to ignore it, I have had that this pregnancy too. Up until the 25 week mark, my Jiminy Cricket said boy. I was really trying not to have a feeling either way because that was defeating the purpose of not finding out. At our 25 week appointment, the 4D sono that we had showed the clearest view at that point of baby's little face. Baby looked just like Hadley so I started to have a hard time picturing anything but another girl. Since then, baby changes each time and it's hard to tell so I was left confused again and that's where I've tried to stay. In these final few weeks, emotions of what is coming have caught up to me and I've tried to allow myself the chance to process those a little bit before delivery.

When asked that question - you know, when people give you that look in conversation and are all like, yeah okay but what do you really hope to have, boy or girl? - honestly it makes me shudder a bit because the answer and the deep truth is simply:
A healthy baby.
A living baby.
A baby we get to take home with us.

That's all that matters and the gender just doesn't to me, but that's not to say that I don't have feelings about the gender and in this case I have feelings about both.

People have asked why I've been so vocal that this is the last baby and it's because after experiencing a stillbirth, going through a pregnancy again - any number of pregnancies that you are able - takes a lot out of you. Pregnancy in general does and I don't discount that at all. Whether you've experienced a loss or not, there are all kinds of issues that can arise that can make it difficult on a woman from a physical standpoint, maybe an emotional one for some. Pregnancy following loss is draining physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. It takes a toll on every aspect of your life and my third trimesters are where risk seems to lie. This third trimester has been a roller coaster in which every time I went in, I felt like there was something, or I had the anxiety that there would be something. We originally planned for three kids and we have that, just in a different way. It's a way that we are completely at peace with and after this baby, are looking forward to raising our family and enjoying these next stages of our family growing up.

However, because I know this is our last baby, that makes this pregnancy and delivery emotional in a different way than Hadley's was. We've been through the sudden loss of a baby at a gestational age that he was absolutely viable to live if we could have known there was an issue and intervened in time. We've been through fertility issues after that loss. We've been through two pregnancies following that, both up and down with emotions and health issues. In no way do I take being pregnant for granted, and I'm thankful for the gift of it each and every day, but that doesn't mean that it can't completely overwhelm you, exhaust you, and make you a headcase of a person. It's a delicate line to walk and even though this has been my most difficult pregnancy due to issues this third trimester, I'm thankful for it every day but I know it's not something I can or should do again.

As birth nears - two days away at this point - I've been thinking a lot about who this little one is and there are a lot of emotions that surround it. One of my promises in writing is to be transparent, so that's what you will get. As it stands at this very moment, I have very deep joys and fears for either gender. I've know that there will be immense relief and excitement regardless, but have also accepted that there will be grief either way. Let me explain.

Having another girl. It feels right. It feels easy, we've done this with Hadley, we have all the things (and clothes galore!). I didn't have a sister, so there's this excitement for Hadley and this new baby if it is a girl to have that close, sister relationship - especially with such a small age gap. On the flip side, there would be a grief that is inevitable to follow because at one point, I was all in as a boy mom. I couldn't wait, I couldn't wait to see my husband with his son. The mother/son activities I envisioned in our future that would just be dreams, not having the chance to dance with him at his wedding someday, and when friends say that little boys just love their mamas so much and not experiencing what they mean by that - especially when I had been so close to that before. Having another girl would be the final realization that the chance to have a son, to mother a son, died when Hudson did. That's part of the grief that comes with losing the baby boy I gave birth to but who didn't get to stay.

Having another boy. In a way, that feels right too. When I was pregnant with Hadley, before finding out gender, I remember fearing that I was going to have a hard time switching my mindset from boy to girl. I remember feeling like my heart wouldn't feel complete without having that living boy in our family. But she completely fulfilled us and I did not have a problem switching that mindset once it was our reality. That's where my grief was then and as I've said, it continues to evolve. That is why we didn't find out the gender this time. The other piece to it was that we had a honeymoon pinky promise that if we had one of each and were having a third, I'd feel prepared for the surprise at delivery, which Max would have wanted from the start. So there was that, but there was also this heavier need to not know, an underlying fear that if I knew we were having a boy, I would allow that to stress me more during an already stressful pregnancy. I would compare every little detail to my pregnancy with Hudson. I would obsess and worry more than I needed to in fear this little boy wouldn't come home with us either. So to keep our eyes on the prize of getting a healthy baby here, safe and sound, and try to alleviate stress, we thought this would be the best approach. I envision a very emotional reaction if when baby comes and the moment Max says "it's a...." and that answer is boy. I will be completely overwhelmed to hold our living son in my arms. However, I fear the grief that will come from it as we take him home and begin life together with our son. Sure we have experienced things we had missed as a family once we had a living baby, but to have a boy, then I feel like we would really know what we've missed these almost three years without Hudson. I even worry I'd call the baby Hudson by accident. If it is a boy, I want him to stand on his own and for my broken heart to not still be so broken that I feel weak trying to be his mother. At the same time, receiving Hadley into our lives was a beautiful kind of redeeming love from the devastating loss we had endured. If we were given the opportunity to have another son, it would be met with the same feelings, too.

It's a lot to process. It's a lot of deep feeling and emotion surrounding this baby and who they are. Each one of our babies holds a special place - Hudson as our angel, Hadley has our answered prayer, this baby as our great surprise. Regardless, of what April 2 holds and the big reveal of who this little one is, in my heart I know our family will be complete and I will remember that as I continue to process the immense joy and the inevitable grief.

Faith Over Fear: Take Two

31 week sonogram on February 19

Just like that, we are well underway with our third, third trimester. Given that I've been pregnant during the busiest time of year for us, I knew it would feel quicker, but this has truly flown by. The third trimester represents such a simultaneous composition of excitement and preparation, but for me it is also coupled with an impending fear of the unknown and the memories of what has happened before.

I haven't done a lot of writing this pregnancy because when I write, I go to a place that can conjure a lot of emotion. It can bring on all kinds of thought trails that at this point in time, I don't want to go down. I was in a different point of my healing process when I was pregnant with Hadley. It was a time that I needed to go to that place because I was still working through so many facets of grief and the expression helped in the release of the build up of fear and stress. I need to share through writing because it helped me and in turn, it was helping others who were also walking the same path, or those who just wanted the insight to better understand. This pregnancy, I have tried to silence my fears and anxious voice. I've viewed myself as someone who embraces my grief, wasn't afraid of it. However, throughout this pregnancy, I have tried to ignore my grief - unsuccessfully. I haven't wanted to go to that place of emotion in an effort to control my stress and anxiety, but I don't feel that it has done me any favors because it very much exists, just as much as my first pregnancy after loss with Hadley.

I had actually started writing and readying a post that was what this experience has brought the second time around. What is the same, what is different. I was waiting to get through our 30 week appointment last Thursday to finish it out. Now, it's changed a bit to include what is going on with this baby right now and how it is impacting my second pregnancy after loss.

I think a common thought to most people is that once you have a living baby after a pregnancy after loss, you are "back to normal" and the fear that was once there is now gone, or that you are no longer at risk, subsequently meaning that another pregnancy is easier. To address that, yes - I guess you can say that I am one and one now. I've had a stillbirth and now a live birth. But - I've had a stillbirth, I've still had a baby who has died, so that will always overshadow the fact that I've had a healthy live birth. We will always err on the side of caution and that fear is still very much present. I am high risk, I am at-risk, and that hasn't changed.

One of my soul sisters - a friend who I've met because we are both mothers of loss - is also pregnant with her second baby after loss and we are due within a few weeks of one another. In a text recently as we updated on our current states, she gave the perfect example. She said that she tells people that this is like surviving a plane crash that happens at landing. You'd be terrified of every other flight you are on, and the anxiety of ever experiencing turbulence while on the flight. The stress doesn't ever go away, but you just find ways to cope with it.

I think because grief is evolving, I'm in another heart and head space than I was in that first pregnancy after loss with Hadley. I know more, I've seen more, I've experienced both, certain things still trigger, others don't.  This time I've faced a different set of triggers because there are a lot of similarities to life circumstances between this pregnancy and when I was pregnant with Hudson. They trigger those memories that take you back to the dark place. There's a trauma that exists and a fear that takes hold after you've experienced a loss like we have. That's "our" normal.

In my pregnancy with Hadley, I celebrated each week that I was still pregnant, I checked the box on each step and milestone. I had high anxiety, my pregnancy with her wasn't completely carefree, we had scares, every sono caused me to hold my breath until I saw or heard the heartbeat. I had to shut down the fear with faith, and that was my mantra faith over fear. Through it all, deep down I felt like she would be in our arms, living and breathing. She had to. We couldn't do this again. Faith over fear. That feeling drove the confidence in our medical team and in that end result of her getting here safe and sound.

Faith over fear. 

Now let's talk about this pregnancy.

This time the fear set in almost immediately for many reasons that I discussed in my first post about this baby. It wasn't until almost the 21 week mark, when I started feeling legit continuous fetal movements, that I felt much more at ease. To be honest, I was very at ease up until about three weeks ago. What changed? We entered the third trimester, we started getting closer to our week of loss mark (32/33 weeks), and movement has been stressing me out. This little one's patterns of movement have changed from when I first started feeling them and are not as continuous, but more so, they are different than Hudson's and Hadley's. This one moves mostly at night and in the morning, and if doing a kick count, I get to the 10 kicks within an hour at those times of the day. Yet during the day, more often than not, we are very quiet and still. So quiet and still that it has really freaked me out at times. Some days are an exception to that but most days the fear creeps in and I wonder if everything is okay. It quickly escalates past wonder and goes to action mode. I grab a little Dr. Pepper or a handful of chocolate covered almonds to try to get some movement started. Sometimes it will work, but a lot of times it doesn't. Truth be told, I've had a lot of sugar the past few weeks - and not out of craving this time but necessity in my mind for sanity, sugar actually gives me heartburn - just to get some movement going and feel like everything is fine. Until 29 weeks, I hadn't used my fetal heart monitor since 21 weeks, but now it is in my bag with me at work. One afternoon I raced home to use it because I had a Dr. Pepper to try to get some moves, and then an hour later a chocolate chip cookie but nothing had happened in two hours. So now, it comes to work with me, that's how in my head I've gotten, in case I just need to know now and can't wait to get home later. Waiting isn't an option when you've been through what we've been through.

Enter the mantra again.
Faith over fear. 

So, let's talk about our 30 week appointment last week on Thursday. Our appointments have been every 2-3 weeks since 16 weeks. By this time in our first pregnancy after loss, we had started going weekly, but I've been doing okay with the current set up. However, it had been a busy and stressful two weeks since my last appointment and on top of what's been going on in life in general, my anxiety has been building as we inch closer to the week of loss mark from Hudson. At that 30 week appointment, I had planned to go ahead and ask for us to start weekly appointments going forward if she didn't suggest it already. It was just getting to the point that I wanted to be monitored more closely and needed that weekly check in.

Last Thursday, I took my mom and grandmother to my appointment with me because Max was in New York for work. After the sonogram, we met with my doctor who shared that the blood pressure levels within the umbilical cord were elevated - just like Hadley's were at this exact point in my pregnancy with her. There is not a black and white, clear-cut reason for this. Just a lot of it could be's. It could be due to a compression, restriction, or some kind of stress on the cord. It could be due to cord placement and size. It could be an issue with the placenta and not pulling enough oxygen. It could be my stress levels, even though my blood pressure is fine. The latter is what my doctor had concluded with Hadley and what she leaned towards again with this baby.

They checked a few different places of the umbilical cord and the level they want to see is between a 2.75 and 3, the spots that were checked were all 3.75 and 3.9, which is enough of an elevation to warrant caution. We talked about stressors, the last two weeks there have been a lot going on - our dog having sudden surgery to remove cancerous tumors, construction project in our house, Hadley's been sick, I've been sick. As she told me that this was an issue again, I was strong, but I cried. My doctor said moderated bed rest until Monday and I'd come back on Monday, and we would now begin appointments twice a week on Mondays and Thursdays.

We left, I felt okay, everything turned out fine with Hadley when this happened, we were going to monitor twice a week and I know the drill. I know the plan. If it gets to a point where it is more risky for baby to stay in than to live on the outside, we would take baby then and there. Following the appointment, I had lunch with my mom and grandmother. I texted Max an update. However, leaving lunch, things weren't sitting right with me. I called my nurse and said that for peace of mind, I want to see the specialist at the hospital's Fetal Care Center like we did last time when this happened with Hadley. Because lack of movement has also been a heavy thought on my mind for two weeks now, in order to stay as stress free as possible, I'd like to have this additional layer of assurance using their advanced imaging to be positive there is no restriction in the cord causing this. They tried to get me in between patients but it wasn't happening, so I was sent home to rest and landed an appointment time on Friday at 1:30 PM. I know from last time that this is a gradual issue, it isn't over night. If there had been restriction or compression of any kind, baby's size would be impacted and there would be more signs, like fluid on the brain. These things were not present, I could wait 24 hours.

Max had come home from his work trip and was able to head to that appointment with me on Friday. The specialist was very thorough and we were able to conclude that there did not appear to be any pressure on the cord, it wasn't knotted, wrapped or a cause for distress. Levels had lowered from the day before but we still needed to watch them. We will focus on my rest and try to keep stress down as much as possible because that's the only answer I am given. She said we needed to monitor twice a week. She suggested we induce at 37 weeks this time. She was the same specialist who last time said that we could wait until 38 weeks. The fact that she is willing to go a week earlier this time had me a little off kilter. What wasn't I being told?

Faith over fear. 

The fact that the unthinkable happened to us once before and that anything can change in a matter of seconds is not at all lost on me. The previous trauma is always in the back of my mind, the fact that I've been down this road of having a seemingly perfect pregnancy only for the lightening to strike and have this teeny tiny percentage of a tragedy occur. When my mind is overcome with that, I have to remind myself the really unfortunate difference between then and now, as another way to calm myself.

With Hudson we had the first sonogram to confirm the pregnancy, we had another quick one at 14 weeks because my nurse had a spare machine and we were waiting for my doctor to return so she did it for fun as we waited, then we had the anatomy scan around 20 weeks. That was it. I wasn't high risk and 3 years ago, in my doctor's practice at least, for a normal pregnancy, it wasn't routine to have another sonogram if you didn't need it. Maybe I would have received another with a 3D/4D option if we had made it to the 34 week appointment and beyond, I don't know. But between 20 weeks and 33 weeks, a problem developed that wasn't seen at the 20 week anatomy scan, couldn't be traced through simple blood tests, belly measurements or listening to the heartbeat. I didn't have a fetal doppler at home to listen to his heartbeat to see if something wasn't right. I didn't get the attention we receive now where I get a 2D then a 3D/4D sono at each appointment and look at everything in immense detail. We didn't know the umbilical cord was a problem, but we would now. So in that, I have some peace but I'll never forget that anything can happen at anytime and because we've experienced it, you just feel more susceptible to it and it's always a tender point, sometimes a downright raw patch.

That is where this fear and stress derives from. But again, we channel faith over fear. 

Part of that is getting ready for a baby that you have faith will be here, even though the fear of what happened once is etched in your heart and mind. But even after the loss of Hudson, I didn't let that stop me from readying Hadley's nursery. His things were comforting and therapeutic for me to be around. In my heart, if something happened to her, I would still have this space that I could be close to her. By 22 weeks, we had the majority of her room ready and just finishing touches to complete until she arrived.

Compared to the other two pregnancies, I feel very far behind on getting ready for this little one's arrival. In some ways, we already have so much of what we need because we will be able to reuse a lot from Hadley. If it is a boy, I have things from our preparation for Hudson that I will use for this baby. Before last week's appointments, I conquered a little PTSD earlier in the week briefly mentioned above. At this point with Hudson, we were a few weeks into a large home renovation project, one that involved his room. In our new house, we needed to do a little reno project for this new baby's room and it was the sole reason for the work we are doing. Back then, we added a door to Hudson's room. Now we are removing doors and adding a wall in this baby's new room, taking it from an open office to a private space that better converts it into a bedroom. I've had some questions in my heart like, should we do this or just wait until the baby is here and safe in our arms? But trying to do a home construction project with a newborn and a toddler seemed like a terrible plan, so I put that fear on the shelf with my grief and we decided to get this done now. The fear was if something were to happen, that room would be very much a bedroom. I love the office the way it was, it had beautiful french doors that opened to the dining room. If we closed that off, turning it into a bedroom, it was now that baby's room. It would haunt me if this baby didn't come home. But, the estimated 2-3 day project took 1 day. It's done and we concentrate on moving forward and the optimism and happiness  to bring this baby home to his/her own space. I see it all in my mind and it helps my fears to begin preparing it.

We started the nursery this past weekend. I stuck to my orders of rest and monitored as Max built the crib and Hadley tried to "assist". Monday's appointment went well and levels had dropped back in the range we want them in, just like with Hadley's. Sunday marked 31 weeks. Next Sunday will be 32 weeks and that is a very emotional place in a pregnancy for me to be. That was the last week I was pregnant with my first baby. Reaching it brings sadness, brings the memories of tragedy, bring the fear that you are trying so hard to overcome with faith. I'll take it gladly and be thankful every single second of it, even through the challenging times that pregnancy after loss brings but I'll tell you it is defeating. It is defeating to not have answers for this cord issue that has happened with Hadley and now this baby. It's defeating that there's something your body is doing or not doing that creates risk or warrants caution for your baby. It's defeating that it is happening in a space that is supposed to nurture, grow and protect but for me, I worry my body will fail me. I worry it can betray me again and harm my baby. I want reasons but there aren't any they can give me that are a sure thing, so what's left?

Faith over fear. 

And that's what we hold onto to get this baby in our arms safe and sound.

A Letter to My Littlest

Sweet baby,

I am 22 weeks pregnant with you and had an appointment today to check in and see you. Everything about you is perfect and I’m thankful to have the ability to make sure of it, even though I still hate the reason why we do. You will be born into a family with a big sister 18 months older than you, and you have a big brother who is in Heaven. It’s because he left us before we could experience life together that we get to see you so much and make sure you are okay. Now our doctor and her team takes every precaution to ensure nothing is wrong and we get you here safe and sound.

You’ve been making some stronger movements lately and it has made me stop what I’m doing to just be able to pause and enjoy. The movements of my babies are the most special parts of my pregnancies. They are what I look forward to the most in a pregnancy and the first thing I miss when I’m not pregnant anymore. I’ve been feeling you consistently for about two weeks now, but you are strong enough to be felt by outside touch now too, so the other night, Daddy got to feel you kick for the first time. I ate a Christmas cookie while finishing up some work at home, then within 15 minutes, you started hopping around. Big bold movements on my left side. We had just been talking about your big sister’s newfound strength and how she wrestled the doctor’s ear thingy (it is a technical term) away when at the Pediatrician earlier that day and I said, speaking of strength, this baby has some if you want to come feel? He did, and then you did you thing, and I smiled. Daddy’s eyes got all big and he said whoa, hey there baby! Just like he did with Hudson, just like he did with Hadley. I remember each of the moments when he felt his babies kick for the first time and the look on his face to get to experience it too.

Your big sister has become very cuddly and she loves to lay her head on the baby belly. You always become more active when she does, so I like to think you two are already channeling a little sibling bond. It's like she is being protective the way she lays her head and hand where you are, then you react to that touch by letting her know you are there. We’ve been working on teaching her to say baby, but you may be called puppy for a while.

You were kind of against our odds. To learn we were pregnant with you, even my doctor was in disbelief given some issues that should have made it more difficult. You are determined and strong, little one. We thought it would be months and months of waiting again. The way you began was a great surprise, so the way you arrive will only echo that when we find out just who you are. Our time together with you on the inside feels like it is flying by, which on the one hand makes me relieved because with our history, I’m ready to get you here, in my arms, breathing and crying. However, outside of the fear and anxiety that will always exist at some capacity, I truly love being pregnant and want to cherish this time with you – my last baby. We learned at the last appointment that my placenta did move and I no longer have placenta previa to worry about, so that is one less thing to stress over during this time together. Today we saw that the cyst on my ovary has completely shrunk too! 

We have a list on the fridge with our favorite names, mixing and matching firsts and middles. It’s been a fun game and while I think the right ones are evident, I’m going to keep working on your Daddy a bit more and enjoy this little name game.

I get teary eyed every time I think about the moment when we will get to meet you. That moment I held my babies to my chest for the first time was an indescribable feeling of finally getting to see and feel that long awaited miracle. While your big brother’s was also met with deep pain because his hello also meant a goodbye, your big sister’s was a joy we hadn’t experienced ever before in that way, and one I cannot wait to experience again with you. 

I can’t wait to keep getting to know you in there, and even more so, I can’t wait to meet you out here when the time comes. Again we are trying to conquer faith over fear and though there have been moments, we are so far, so good. 

I love you Squish and look forward to seeing you again at our next appointment. 

Mommy

Baby HJS the Third

So, our family has a little bit of big news, we are expanding again! We are nearing the seventeen week mark and had an appointment last Friday to see HJS the Third, or more affectionately referred to as little Squish, our go-to name for baby during each pregnancy. If all goes as it should, we will induce somewhere between April 1 and April 8. I'm pulling for April 4 for 4/4. I'm 8/8, my dad is 12/12, we need to pass this onto the next generation.

But you just had a baby! I know, and she’s a year old now. The answer to the first question we are asked and I'm sure on the brains of those who haven't asked is, yes this was planned, yet we were still surprised.

Let me back it up a bit.

In June we went to see my doctor for the 8 month postpartum check up. Max and I were already thinking that we were ready and wanted to expand our family again, but I had some mental hangups that I wanted to talk through with my doctor first. As some may recall, when we delivered Hadley, there was an abnormality with my placenta. I actually didn't know anything about it until Nurse Katie sent me Hadley's birth photos and there it was. The giant placenta blob in all its glory. Not what you anticipate seeing as you are hormonally looking through the memories of those special moments of bringing this eagerly awaited baby into the world. Baby, baby, baby, placenta, baby, baby...wait, what?

Nurse Katie let me know that she wanted me to have a picture for documentation if needed. The pathology reports came back that the abnormality was a 5 cm blood clot but that I didn't test positive for any of the blood clotting disorders that would have been a common reason for it, nor did I present with the other usual suspects such as gestational diabetes or placental abruption. So it remained a mystery and one that I was rather unsettled about. At my 6 week postpartum check up, my doctor said she had yet to find a medical reason for it, but that she was going to run a few more tests and research a few more things and we would revisit it together at the 8 month postpartum appointment.

That takes us to June and it is time for that appointment. We decided to look at my uterus and ovaries not pregnant and found that I had a blueberry-sized cyst on my only working ovary and a number of pea-sized fibroids occupying my uterus. We learned in our fertility struggle last time that my right ovary is the only one that releases eggs, and now it was inhabiting an unwelcome guest (and an unharmful one, which is important to add). Additionally, we revisited that whole placenta-blood-clot question. Something that had weighed on my mind was when we had the umbilical cord scare with Hadley around the 31 week mark, it was an unexplained issue that was chalked up to my stress and anxiety. So we initiated a moderated bed rest and increased appointments with scans to twice a week. With the blood clot coming to light after delivery, coupled with the now existing UFO's (Uterine Foreign Objects, ie cyst and fibroids) we decided I would go see a Maternal Fetal Medicine Specialist for another opinion. I had that appointment the first week of July and after reviewing it all, they felt that the blood clot happened either during labor or during delivery, but sometime after they broke my water. Without getting too graphic, the reasoning for this was because if there had been a blood clot in my placenta prior to that time, there would have been blood in my amniotic fluid when they broke my water - but there wasn't.

Leaving that appointment, the specialist said she didn't feel we should do anything differently or be concerned with another pregnancy, we have a good plan. We will do a blood thinner just to add another layer to our next high risk pregnancy artillery as a precautionary measure and will continue on with the frequent appointments and scans when the time comes.

The week after my eight month appointment, I had my first postpartum cycle. However it didn't return in July. For eight days at the end of July, I think I took a test every other day, just in case, but they were all negative. In late August, I still had not had any sign of a cycle and was feeling "off". I remember it vividly. It was a Monday, I had a few work related errands to run, and on my way back to the office, the thought crossed my mind that I needed to take a pregnancy test. It was very similar to the urgency I felt the morning I hopped out of bed at 6 am, bundled up and marched out the door to drive to the store. That was when we learned I was pregnant with Hudson. So, I popped into Walgreens to grab a box of pregnancy tests again. I got back to the office and at 3:42 PM, two lines immediately appeared on a stick. I laughed. I laughed hard. I couldn't believe my eyes and I was in shock. So I chugged water and did it again. I was pregnant alright!

We had started trying, but I couldn't believe we got pregnant when we did. We thought we would be putting time on the clock and go back in to see our doctor around the beginning of the new year to talk options. There was no charting this time, no acupuncture, no special herbs that people swear by, no gluten-free diet to get more hormones in check, no Clomid or other fertility help. Add the cyst on my ovary and we thought for sure that we were embarking again on a long, challenging road to another baby. I even asked myself if I would feel fulfilled with my family as it stood today - my son in heaven, my daughter here with us - as a defense mechanism against the pain of the potentially pending fertility struggle.

I was in disbelief, it was followed by overwhelming emotion and joy, but then I felt guilty. For pretty much the whole first trimester, I felt guilty. My road after loss put me in a new segment of the population of women who have a mother's heart but not a baby. Whether that is because they've lost a child or they can't get pregnant, it's an excruciating trial in life to endure. This time around, I have a number of friends who I love and care for who are walking the road of fertility struggles, others who are unable to carry a child again, those who would do anything to realize they were pregnant. It gave me intense guilt that I had Hadley, but now had been given another opportunity too, while they were still waiting for a living baby or had been trying for much longer.

I felt guilt because I then had this overwhelming fear of opening my heart again to another baby. This is a very scary road, there are a lot of what if's, and a lot of sorting through the trauma from a third trimester loss. I had a hard time connecting to the fact I was pregnant again, I was doing this again, this was really happening and it was happening now. With Hadley, though there was fear, it was hope and faith that won the struggle. Through the doubts that would creep in, I just knew she would be here with us, because she had to. We could not go through what we had been through before. Finding out I was pregnant later than I had with both other pregnancies and with my UFO's I had also convinced myself this pregnancy wouldn't stay viable. I just felt like I shouldn't get attached to the idea of it and that feeling lasted until we hit the twelve week mark. We waited longer to tell people, I struggled with if we make an announcement, but in the end, we felt this baby deserved to be celebrated, too.

Rewinding back two years, when we were fresh from loss and on the road to picking up the pieces, I told myself that, as much as it hurt while going through it, my heart needed to have enough distance between Hudson’s birth and becoming pregnant again so that it could have been possible had he lived. I struggled really hard with the feeling that I needed to know that Hudson and Hadley could have both been here. Personally, my heart couldn’t handle that the only reason she was here was because he died. That just wasn’t in my scope of understanding for my personal healing.

After Hudson, I no longer believed that everything happened for a reason and that it was not God’s intent for him to die of a cord accident, for us to give birth to him not living. That is just not a place my belief system or my relationship with God will allow me to go to. I felt like they absolutely could have been 17 months apart, it was possible, I would have them both here. Now becoming pregnant again in the time frame in which we have, it is further testament to that. But, that’s where I also started to get hung up again. I felt like if I had both Huds and Hads 17 mo apart, would we be pregnant now with this baby, making Hadley and new baby 18 mo apart? That thought circled in my mind those first few weeks, hindering me from connecting because I was grieving the son who wasn’t here and the sadness for reaching a point now that I felt like it would have been a life with Hudson, or a life with this baby but probably not both. I’ve had to make myself stop going there, and stop thinking about it like that. I will continue to see him among our family in my mind, however that looks at any given time in the future, but I had to finally set a personal emotional boundary and stop going to the other place of question. It’s just more than my heart can take anymore as life after loss continues on. 

There's also been a fair amount of post traumatic stress, and more of it will occur as the pregnancy progresses. I talked about that a lot in my posts from my pregnancy with Hadley. That pregnancy had terrifying moments, especially throughout the third trimester, because the loss of Hudson was still so fresh. There were a lot of emotional hurdles to clear, going down that path again. But even in the midst of it all, there was a peace. Like an ever-present feeling that, okay this may be scary but we are going to get her here safe and sound. Because we have to, we just do. There wasn't another option in my mind, we couldn't and wouldn't endure that loss with her. 

This time, I’m having more flashbacks to my pregnancy with Hudson than I did with Hadley and a lot of that derives from our life aesthetic. It has now been almost two and a half years. A number of the moms I was pregnant with then are also getting pregnant again now, or similar situations we were going through three years ago when we first got pregnant are present again now. When life from a time that resulted in tragedy begins to mirror the present day, it pours some rubbing alcohol in the re-opened wound because the last time some of these things were going on, our baby died. When it came to those other families, it was really hard for me to face them for a long time. It was a lot to work through to get to a point of comfort around kids within a 6 month age range of Hudson, and it's still a work in progress. To be clear for a minute, they did nothing wrong, it was all me and my heart. It was too hard for a long time and sometimes it is still too hard. At this moment in time, I’m forced to face the reality of what I’ve been avoiding. I see him in our daily family life when I allow myself to go to that place. Right now, when I see the families with kids near his age - who he'd be in class with, who we were "pregnant friends" with - I am forced to see what I've been trying to avoid. That we could’ve been raising our babies together this whole time.

We were up at the swimming pool near the end of the summer and ran into some family friends. We had grown up together and they had a son within a month of Hudson’s passing. When their son was born, I had to unfollow them on social media because my heart couldn’t take seeing him grow up. It wasn’t in malice, it wasn’t to be cruel, it wasn’t out of jealousy. It was simply doing what I had to do to emotionally protect myself because it hurt so bad to see little boys his age. Seeing them now didn’t hurt as bad as it would have a year ago, but it still took me aback quite a bit. I could manage a smile and small talk, but I couldn't sit facing them. I had to go to a different section of the pool to play with Hadley and avoid the images my mind wanted to take me to of what my son would look like, what he’d be doing, how I'd be juggling both of them. This may be something that someone who hasn’t lost a baby cannot fully understand and I don’t expect you to, but I do think it is needed insight. These are things that I still live with, things that are still difficult and hit differently. It takes me back to then and that is just a fact of Pregnancy After Loss. That’s something I have to work through in my way and I continue to, in my own time. I am still a work in progress. 

These things are the triggers that take me back to feelings I don’t want to feel. Panic I don’t want to have. Anxiety I don’t want to face. Grief I want to run from. That’s post traumatic stress derived from loss.

Being a third trimester mother of loss, I know that getting through a first trimester doesn't mean that you are safe from the unexpected or unimaginable. Anything can happen at any time. When it comes to this pregnancy, we will have the same approach as last time. The umbilical cord will continue to be watched closely. Hudson’s was very long and very thin, making it easy for him to become wrapped. Hadley’s was a marginal insertion which carried risk-factors of its own, but when monitored closely can be harmless. A marginal cord insertion happens when the umbilical cord attaches on the side of the placenta instead of in the middle (like it is supposed to). For this pregnancy, I’m praying for a normal cord placement without any issues.

At our appointment on Friday, we did learn that I currently have placenta previa. This means that my placenta has attached itself over the opening of my cervix. The good news is that this is something that has the ability to correct itself and that about 90% of the time, it does. We will go back in four weeks and find out if it has moved or not. It is a big prayer right now that this self-corrects and we can have a completely boring, uneventful pregnancy. I was told not to google placenta previa, but I did because, I'm only human and I'm not going to worry about those things unless we are faced with them. To save you the google search, it doesn't necessarily mean anything life-threatening to the baby and that is what is most important.

I’m praying for health and blessings on this little one. I’m praying that he or she will thrive.

You said you were 16 weeks, so what about the gender? That's the second question we get. This time, we aren't finding out until delivery.

From the time we got married and started dreaming of a future family, we said that if we already had a boy and a girl, if we were to have a third, we wouldn't find out the gender and would let it be a surprise. I am a perpetual planner and never really thought I could do that unless I was prepared either way. After Hudson died, I remember people who told us they felt like they "knew" Hudson. That finding out his gender, naming him as early as we did, it made me feel so connected to him, and others shared the same sentiment with us. I said at that time that we would always do that.

But, my grief continues to evolve. I'm in a different place now than when I was two years ago when I felt we needed to always know. A place where I think I need to not know, so that for once, I don't overthink and get carried away with the emotions of those thoughts. I'm in a place in my grief that I'm almost afraid to go through the emotions of knowing that I'm having a baby boy throughout a pregnancy. I imagined what life with Hudson would have brought us. When Hadley arrived, I got a good indication of everything we had missed - but it was different, girls and boys bring different things and different experiences. Planning for a boy again, I think it would bring on waves of grief and added stress that I really want to keep at bay during a pregnancy. I know myself and I would compare the two boy pregnancies and drive myself crazy with worry. On the flip side, I think if I were to know right now during the pregnancy that I was having a baby girl, there would be emotions of mourning a life as parents to a little boy after having been so close to it once before.

I don't want to cause myself more stress or anxiety than what there will inevitably be throughout a third trimester. Since we still don't know what caused Hadley's cord flow issues for sure, and it wasn't the blood clot because that came later, my stress is the top suspect. Therefore, I want to be as peaceful and calm as possible this pregnancy - especially if the placenta doesn't correct itself and I do end up with placenta previa and the complications that could come from that.

We are prepared to welcome another baby, either a little girl or little boy into our lives. We have already had one of each - maybe not in the way that we had planned, or the way that some would recognize, but in a way that allows us to hold true to the pinky promise we made on our honeymoon five years ago. I feel like once this baby arrives, regardless of gender, we will have the same reaction of relief to be holding a healthy baby, of pure joy to welcome them into our lives, and the feeling like our family is complete. I think having that moment to look forward to is what we need for this second Pregnancy After Loss and what will be our last pregnancy experience. I've heard it described as the ultimate gift and one of the last true surprises in life. Hudson is our angel, Hadley is our rainbow. This baby is our grand surprise and I think that is perfectly fitting and special for him or her.

This Side of Heaven

Two years ago today started like any other, but it was unknowingly the first day of our new life as bereaved parents. It has been 731 days since life as we knew it for 30 years was altered and we were shaken to our core upon hearing the words that our baby at 32 weeks and 6 days didn't have a heartbeat. It was the day we learned that our precious Hudson had already left us and would not be born into this world for us to love him, raise him and parent him in our arms. The way it should have been and is for most. Instead, we would give birth to his silence, to the sound of our cries, and say a goodbye that no parent ever should. Instead of the life we dreamed of as a family, we carry him in our hearts as we live on without him and only the idea of what should have been.

Loss parents have different milestone days that resonate, we may call them different things. I call today, the day we learned he had passed, Hudson's Heaven Day, and tomorrow, the day we gave birth, his Birthday. I honestly don't know which day is more difficult.

Two years ago I entered this hospital completely unsuspecting that I'd be leaving 24 hours later without our baby. Though I've been back here again many times since, it was a different kind of experience to walk through those same doors again, just like I did two years ago. While my answer to these hard milestones has been to escape, to be "vacation us" instead of loom in the "everyday us" where he is noticeably absent the most, this time on his Heaven Day we get to see his legacy in action. Today we did the official celebration and Cuddle Cot dedication to Baylor University Medical Center, the place that holds our only memories of the time spent with our son in our arms and where we brought his sister, a representation of so much joy and hope, into the world as well.

While we never want this Cuddle Cot to be used, the sad reality is that it will be. During this month, I've been introduced to or made aware of six families of stillbirth that have occurred in May alone. Six babies gone to soon. Six parents whose lives will never be the same. In addition to this Cuddle Cot, the funds given to Baylor University Medical Center at Dallas by the One Wing Foundation have gone to provide aid for families who cannot afford proper burial arrangements for their stillborn baby or NICU infant, and to create a renovated private space in Labor and Delivery for families giving birth but will either never hear their babies cry, or they will have a short time together before that baby takes its last breath.

Guys, this just isn't the way life is meant to go, but sometimes it does. There is not a rhyme or reason. Not a divine plan when someone's child dies. It is not the natural circle of life.You may feel differently, I did before this happened to me. Now, I believe that sometimes the terrible-awful happens. It just does. While we can't change it, we can provide for it. We can be the community that catches those parents in loving arms, without platitudes, when they have faced the most difficult obstacle of burying their baby. It is a wound that may reopen from time to time, and one that doesn't ever really heal. Because that's child loss.

I know it's ugly and unflattering sometimes. I know it's not what people want to see because it's sad. I know that every time I post about it, someone cringes. But he's my child, just like Hadley is. He will be recognized too. I may not have cute pictures of him covered in food, smiling in the bathtub or grabbing his toes - because those were robbed from me when his heart stopped. This is what I have for him. This is how I parent him - my son who should be turning two tomorrow.

Waking up two years ago on May 26, it was any other day until it wasn't, and our path changed for good. As difficult as this road has been, can be, and will continue to be at times, I take solace in continuing to parent my son in any way that I can, and One Wing Foundation is that way. I felt him in my heart, the love and support in the room through the incredible Baylor staff, I see him in her eyes sometimes - the eyes I never got to look into.

Happy Heaven Day sweet boy. You got there before us and we know we will see you again on the other side.

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