Always a Rough Day

July 18th is always a day filled with memories... In some ways, it's more emotional than July 19th.

On July 18, 2007 I was reminded that things do not always go according to plan. After trying for over two years to get pregnant, God had nudged me in the right direction to find out why we weren't having success and our long-awaited, long-hoped-for, much anticipated baby was FINALLY on the way! Jesse and I saved up the money to attend Bradley classes and we did our homework faithfully. We were determined that I was going to get that natural birth I wanted! I read pregnancy books, breastfeeding books, books about natural parenting. I researched every baby product we ended up putting on our registry.

And then came that fateful day... I was just shy of 39 weeks. For a few weeks my blood pressure had been climbing. I had no signs of pre-eclampsia and the NST's showed no cause for concern. But I had a gut feeling something wasn't right. It wasn't jitters about the upcoming birth. Mother's intuition I guess. I kept feeling Ethan move inside my womb. I knew he was fine. My OB was concerned that I was still carrying him so high so he had scheduled an ultrasound to check something in my pelvic structure. He assured me that he would let me labor no matter what my pelvic bones looked like as long as Ethan and I were both tolerating labor. Despite all his reassurances (and I TOTALLY believed what he told me - I knew he was one of the best when it came to natural, med-free births, and a Christian!), I was dreading that ultrasound. I didn't know why. D-R-E-A-D-I-N-G it.

My appointment was scheduled for right after lunch. My OB was tied up in a meeting but the ultrasound tech knew what he needed to check. So he started. I was so nervous. I had had other ultrasounds but had never been scared before this one. He did some things I didn't expect. Like give my stomach a hard jar. He did warn me first though. He asked the nurse if Dr. H was back yet. He calmly said he needed to see him as soon as he came back in. By this point, I knew something was wrong. I tried to stay calm and reassured myself by watching Ethan's heart waves on the ultrasound monitor. They stayed strong and steady...

When Dr. H got there, the tech quietly gave him some measurements as he moved the ultrasound paddle around my stomach. Dr. H moved me to another room to talk to me while the tech set up for the next appointment. I knew it wasn't good news...

Dr. H buried his head in his hands. He told me that most women would be thrilled by what he was about to say. But he knew I wouldn't. The ultrasound showed my amniotic fluid was very low. Dangerously so. But that wasn't his only concern. Unexplained blood pressure rise + low amniotic fluid = likely placental failure in progresss. One way or another, Ethan was coming. Soon.

He checked me and I was less than a fingertip dilated, thick, and high. An induction was not going to work. He sent me to the hospital for a NST. He said that if Ethan showed the least bit of stress, they would immediately get me ready for a c-section. If he seemed to be okay, it would be scheduled for the next morning.

All our hopes for a calm, natural birth were gone. Replaced with lots of prayer for God to keep Ethan safe as long as he was in there. I didn't really question the need for the c-section. I had known for weeks something was wrong. I was thankful to finally know what it was.

For four years now I've relived that day. Especially on the anniversary of the day it happened - July 18.

Going back to that day... Ethan passed the NST so we spent the day preparing mentally, physically, and spiritually for what was coming. I only got a few hours sleep. I was too upset to sleep. Too worried.

Ethan was born the next morning. I'll spare you the details of the epidural etc. When Dr. H cut me open, the little bit of amniotic fluid that had been there less than 24 hours before was gone... But he weighed in at 6 lbs 2 oz and had no immediate problems.

The next few weeks were tough - I had a reaction to the epidural, Ethan was diagnosed failure-to-thrive, I wasn't able to breastfeed (not for lack of trying), he was fussy all the time, etc.

But more than the weeks after, and even more than the day of his birth, July 18 is the day that is so emotional. The day I remember so vividly. The day I found out nothing was going to go according to plan with his birth.

This is the first year I haven't gone hour by hour thinking about what I was doing that fateful day at that time. Probably because I was dealing with a lot today - all four of us are sick, Ethan had a really bad day, etc. Maybe that's a good thing.

It's getting easier with time. But it still makes me cry when I relive the details. I still haven't fully come to terms with it...