Here it is... finally! According to my iPhone since nothing went as planned and I didn't have my camera.
Oh, where to begin. At 2 am I felt a sudden warm wet sensation and woke up in a puddle. I waddled my way to the bathroom and liquid continued to pour from my body. I sat on the toilet and called my Doctor then drove to the Emergency Room as soon as I hung up. This is the kind of baby story you see on movies, except I drove myself to the hospital and Drew showed up a few hours later. Long story short, I was really hoping I just peed my pants.
I checked into the hospital and after some tests we confirmed my water broke and that I would need to stay in the hospital until I was at least 34 weeks pregnant. I was only 30 weeks and 6 days pregnant at the time. I thought for sure I would be on bed rest for a while. I mentally began to plan how I would take care of Van and my business at home. Then the contractions started.
The nurses gave me a steroid shot to boost baby girl's lungs in case I were to deliver early. [And to think I was afraid of that hurting--ha!] They moved me into a different room where I could sleep and relax until the magnesium kicked in to stop the contractions. Pretty sure the nurses forgot about me at this point. I was in a dark room by myself in full blown labor. Nobody was there, at all. Every once in a while a nurse would come in to check on something... maybe I was too out of it to even notice. The magnesium made me extremely dizzy, nauseus, hot, and I couldn't stop spitting. I was sure I was going to throw up so they gave me a blue puke bag just in case.
The contractions got stronger and closer together. I laid there moaning through the worse pain I have ever felt in my entire life, alone! If you know me you know how much I don't like being alone. Last thing I told Drew was to come in the morning since I was going to be on bed rest in the hospital for a while. Things progressed so fast I didn't even have time to tell him baby was coming! I told the nurse to call my husband and finally she got a hold of him. It felt like forever before he showed up. Between contractions wasn't so bad, but when they came they struck like a long twisting rope that burned and ached, consuming my entire body. It finally got to a point where I felt the sensation to push so I buzzed the call nurse button and shook the rails of my bed like a crazy lady. I was dilated to a 10.
This was when the Doctor came in and told me there was no time for a c-section, like my previous birth. There was no time for an epidural. There was only time to push this baby out, like now! I was like, oh no way! I can't do it! The nurses and Doctor reassured me I could do it and I did the one thing I thought I never would do. I pushed a baby out of my freakin' vagina all natural! [I'm dramatic]
On March 4, 2015 at 7:29 am Liv was born. It only took 4-5 pushes and happened rather fast. At first I didn't know how to push or breath correctly. I wasn't prepared to ever be put in this situation, which seems silly now, but knowing my body from previous experience vaginal birth wasn't even supposed to be possible. My Doctor firmly told me to calm down and stop screaming, and to push like I was holding my breath under water. Finally, we were making some real progress. Then a miracle happened and Drew ran into the room with Van in one arm and a backpack on the other, with a look of terror on his face. Then Van yelled, "mama go night night!" Oh how I wish Bubba, oh how I wish. I hope he will forever forget what he saw in the hospital room that day, but looking back I think it is pretty special we all got to be there for when Liv was born.
Drew came just in time for my final push. Liv poured out of me like what I imagine giving birth to a baby deer would feel like, with long bony legs chasing the rest of the body. Then I saw her, the most beautiful perfect tiny person in the world. The NICU team took her away and immediately set her up with oxygen and swaddled her just long enough for me to hold her. It was literally only 3 seconds before the Respiratory Therapist had to take her away. When I looked at her for the first time I was in a serious state of shock.
What. Just. Happened.
I wasn't ready to meet her yet. I felt blind sided and confused and scared and excited all at the same time. I hate to admit it, but I didn't feel that same connection right away like I did with Van. I was feeling so many other emotions that I truly felt shocked. It wasn't until later that night that it hit me like a ton of bricks and I broke down sobbing and praying for my baby girl to live another day.
Which is why we decided to name her Liv. Liv Cosette Hollenback. Liv meaning "life" and Cosette meaning "little thing" in French. The name fit her perfectly. We thought long and hard for the right name for Liv, and nothing felt quite right before. I had a feeling I would know when I saw her and although there are still several girl names I like, Liv felt like the name for her.
She only weighed 3 pounds 11.7 ounces. She wasn't that much bigger than my forearm and her head was about the size of a softball. Her skin was red literally draped over bones, and her face and body were bruised and swollen from delivery. Liv was a miracle.
We looked at Liv. We felt her tiny fragile body with the palms of our
hands. We prayed. We cried. We watched her struggle to breath. We asked
lots of questions. We stared at machines. We made it our mission to be there for Liv, no matter
what. We gave her a blessing. We bore testimony that there is a plan of happiness for each and every one of us. We hoped for the best.
Days began to blur together and we quickly learned that Liv had what they call a PDA. This is when there is an opening between two major blood vessels in the heart that haven't fully developed. After several foggy x-rays and doses of surfactant we prayed the heart medicine would help close her PDA so we could avoid surgery and additional risks of infection. A few days later she was like a totally different baby.
When you see your baby connected to so many machines to stay alive it's easy to think they just aren't ready to be in the world yet. You feel completely helpless in a situation like this. But at the same time we are extremely fortunate we can provide an environment that fosters growth and healing in attempt to finish what our bodies sometimes cannot. The NICU is a special place.
I didn't really want to share some of these photos of Liv while she was in such a fragile state, but when I look at these photos I see someone who is fighting with every ounce of her being to be alive. An innocent baby who is completely dependent on the care of others. That is why I decided to share them because seeing her face without a mask at the time was such a rare thing.
The baby story continues, as I held Liv for the first time skin to skin for a heavenly hour, listening to her CPAP machine vent oxygen into her lungs. Any peek I got of her face filled my heart with joy. I drifted off to sleep to the soothing sound of air blowing through her mask, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
My story wouldn't be complete without some cold hard evidence of my severe allergic reaction to the antibiotics they mistakenly gave me during labor. The reaction started the night after delivery, and within days my entire body was covered in hives. They grew into hot welts and masses of raised bumps starting on my wrists down to my core, and finally up my neck and down my legs onto my hands and feet as well. This was living hell on top of everything else we were going through. I couldn't hold my baby, I couldn't think about anything else, I cried a lot, and I itched to the point of insanity. I ended up in the ER again after passing out back to back and drifting into a dreamy delirium I feared I wasn't going to come back from. With the help of my neighbors and friends, family, husband, and lots of heartfelt prayers... I came out with the strength to endure my allergic reaction until it worked its way through my system. I sat in the Emergency Room below the NICU floor where Liv was and prayed for strength, because if she could do hard things I could do hard things. After five weeks of hives that seemed to constantly evolve in appearance and symptoms, I got better.
Liv's early arrival pushed me far out of my comfort zone and humbled me beyond measure. Liv is the light of my life. We are so blessed to have her here with us and thank our Heavenly Father every day that families can be together forever. Life doesn't always go as planned, and because of that it makes us stronger.
