Becoming a Mommy

So the other day I came across an article called "Three Truths about C-Section Mamas," and it really took me back. The first truth sent me into tears, and the next put my heart right back in the same place it was the day my sweet daughter was born. I really felt a tugging to share the story of my journey into motherhood, and yesterday I discussed it a bit up till the moment I heard her first cry...but I wanted to share the next 2 weeks as well. I know so many of you can relate, and I know there are thousands of mommas out there who would go through it all time and time again, sacrificing anything and everything for their child's health and safety. 

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My plan with Miss Kennedy's birth was to go all natural. No drugs, no c-section, just good old fashioned having a baby the way women did for centuries.

We made it 18 hours. It was grueling. It was more painful than anything I ever endured or could imagine, and I'm pretty sure my brain has blocked out just how painful it was; I can't even describe it. (OH, and I was freaking STARVING. That no food thing is evil lol.)

And then, in the middle of the night, they told me her oxygen levels were dropping each time I had a contraction.

They had me shift positions a couple times, and told me to start contemplating the idea of a cesarean.

That was not an option for me until it was the ONLY option to keep Kennedy safe, but they said to think about it and they'd be back within about an hour to check progress as the nurses kept an eye out.

They came back about 3 minutes later.

Kennedy couldn't breathe well. Her vitals were dipping dangerously low now. So they told me it needed to happen. I remember the doctor saying, "If this was my baby, I'd go now."

I was scared. I was upset that my plan wasn't happening. I was horrified that this was my new reality.

As I walked into the operating room to get the epidural and prep for this surgery, I was so scared. I was fighting back tears that wouldn't stop if I let them out. Dexter couldn't come into the room yet so I was alone in a stark white bright room with all of these strangers around preparing to cut me open, trying to deal with the fact that my baby was in danger, this wasn't how things were supposed to be going, and trying to figure out WHY this was happening this way.

Through the fear and loneliness, a thought came RUSHING into my mind. I'm pretty sure it was God speaking to me because it instantly calmed my nerves, gave me strength, sent the tears away, and prepared my heart for what was happening.

"This is the only way to keep your baby safe. And that is ALL that matters."
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I remember when she finally came out. After all of the numbed tugging I felt (c section mommas--that feels SO WEIRD, right?!) , they told me she was here and the only thing I was listening for was her cry. 

"Please cry, please cry, please cry." I knew cries meant life. And that was all that mattered.

It took probably less than 30 seconds but seemed like 10 minutes to hear that sweet voice cut through the air.

Instant tears. (And current tears as I relive this with her toddler self crawling all over me, showering me with just-because kisses.)

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But then...they had to tie me back up. I remember finally getting to see her and bawling my eyes out. So many emotions came flooding over me. 

She did it. 

She's so strong.

I can't believe I'm a mom.

I can't believe she's here.

Look how beautiful she is.

Look at how sweet my handsome hubby is as a daddy.

I just want to hold her.

Give. Me. My. Baby.

But I had to wait. I fell asleep in the hour or so that they spent putting my body back together and they took Kennedy to make sure she was really okay. She was born at 4:43 a.m. 

When I got back to our room, I think it was around 7 before they brought her in to me. I will never forget the first time I held that sweet little girl. She immediately started nursing and that was hands down the coolest experience in my life. She just KNEW how to do it. That little life just hanging out for 9 months comes out into the world and already knows how to flourish. Like, HOW?! So cool to me.

But then the doctor came in. She told me why her oxygen kept dropping. Her cord was tied in a "true knot" so every time the pain came for me, that knot squeezed tighter. But also, as they were pulling her out of her womb, she had swallowed some fluid. They wanted to take her back to watch her and run some tests. 

Insert terror. Insert every worst fear running through my mind.

She seemed absolutely fine to me, but they said her breathing patterns were a little off so they had some suspicions. The previous 18 hours no longer mattered. All the pain and fear and things going against my plan, nothing mattered. 

Even if she seemed perfectly healthy to me, what if that was the last time I would be able to hold my perfect girl?

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It was hours before I heard back from the doctor. I thought that morning would be full of cuddles, kisses, and simply just staring into her eyes, feeling her soft beautiful skin, but it was full of worry and barely getting to see my little girl. It was so hard to be so close to her for 9 months and then the second I finally got to see her and really meet her, she was taken so far away. 

She had pneumonia. Fluid in her lungs because she tried to boss the whole breathing thing before actually coming out into the world. (No surprise...this is one strong-willed, independent little girl who I have no doubt will attack and dominate whatever she decides to.)

They wanted her to stay in the NICU for at least 7 days so they could keep her under watch and let the pneumonia medicine run its course. 

Now, let me pause for a moment and say that I know there are so many mommas and parents out there whose child had to endure much more dire circumstances, but all parents also know that any threat to their child's health takes you straight to the worst case scenario in your mind. My heart goes out to all parents with sick children, and I pray you find God's strength and comfort in those difficult times. 

Kennedy was hooked up to multiple machines and had pricks and shots and so many painful things happening to her precious, fragile little body. I couldn't even hold her for a couple days. 

I felt so helpless knowing there was nothing I could do but have faith. 

I couldn't comfort her. 

I couldn't hold her.

I couldn't take her away from the danger. That's what had me shattered. My job was to protect this child and I couldn't do it. 

I couldn't do anything but ask for God to keep her safe. 

You really learn a lot about love, parenthood, and your faith in moments like these. My own recovery was just as the nurse told me it would be. "Tomorrow you'll feel like you got hit by a truck." Yep. No joke. But I didn't care. All I wanted to do was get down the hall to spend every second possible with my girl. 

She healed up just as the doctors said she would, and was even able to spend a few of the nights with us in our room so we got to cuddle all through the night. 

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We finally went home after seven days of NICU experience and she's been the healthiest little person ever since then. She's a fighter. She's strong. She's perfect. She's here...and that's all that matters.

Thank you, God, for this gift.