I’ll never forget the day. August 19, 2012. Three dollar tree tests and one digital. “Pregnant.” Words can’t even describe how excited I felt. It had been three months since we began trying for you. Three months of using an ovulation monitor. Many weeks of that anxiety you feel waiting until the moment when you get to take that test. I felt such relief and excitement that this day was here.
I had a great first trimester with you. So excited to be cooking another blessing. I felt pretty good! Tired, for sure. Your sisters kept me pretty busy (which you’ll soon see for yourself). As we crossed into the second trimester I was feeling pretty well. As Daddy and I were watching TV one Saturday night in October, I turned to the side on the sofa and felt a little pull in my side. I thought nothing of it, and then a few hours later in bed, I started to bleed. Time stood still. I put in a frantic call to my midwife’s office and eagerly waited for a call back. Daddy and I just sat in the bathroom, frozen, hoping for the best. The fear I felt was so vivid as I felt something pass, certain it was you. The midwife on call called me back seconds later and talked me through, encouraging me to stay calm and not fear the worst. That night was so long. I could barely sleep waiting for the morning when I could go into the office and listen for your heartbeat.
Grandma and I went down to the hospital the next afternoon while daddy stayed back with your sisters. While nervous, I had a feeling of peace as we approached the room. As I laid back on the table, I closed my eyes and waited. Within seconds, I heard your heartbeat. That perfect sound overshadowing the roar of the fan blowing in my direction. You were alive. Several days later the bleeding had pretty much subsided, but I still wanted an explanation. I went for an ultrasound to try and determine what had happened. As it turns out that pull I felt was a tear in my placenta. The very end of it had pulled away from the wall of my uterus. My doctor was seemingly unalarmed and hopeful that it would heal on its own without any issue. The next few weeks I took it easy, to encourage the healing process.
On November 27th, I went for my next ultra sound, the anatomy scan. I was eager to hear that my placenta was healed. Daddy and I were also nervous just hoping and praying that you were healthy. Everything checked out great and we also found out you were a BOY! A boy. I still feel that surprised feeling. We were so excited to be getting some testosterone added to our house!
The remainder of my pregnancy was long. With your sisters, I went past my due date by six days, then 12 days. I expected no less from you. My due date, April 27th came and went. I was feeling pretty good, but very anxious anticipating your arrival. The next 14 days were tough. I had several doctors appointments, non stress tests and ultra sounds. All of these confirmed you were happy and really comfortable in there. Once I got to 15 days past my due date, daddy and I felt like it was time to make some decisions. We could either continue on being pregnant, going back to check on you often or check into the hospital that Monday and get started with an induction. The midwife that delivered your sisters was on call Monday, and that calmed my fears, so we decided on the latter.
On Monday, May 13th we checked into the hospital at 5 a.m. to start a low drip of pitocin. I had some pitocin for a few hours during my first birth, so I knew what I was about to get into. Just before noon I had progressed from 2 to 4 centimeters, and my midwife decided to break my water. It was totally clear. Huge sigh of relief, as I was worried any meconium would interfere with my plans for a water birth. So these contractions were about to get REAL. I got a birth ball and alternated between walking and rocking on the ball. I tried to relax and think about other things and the contractions started to intensify. Around 3:30 I started to feel some pressure in my bottom with each contraction. I had the nurse call my midwife. I didn’t know how fast this may go, and the birthing tub hadn’t been brought to the room yet. She came fairly quickly, maybe just before 4:00pm. She checked me, and I was 8cm. That would explain it.
Transition is brutal. Before I knew it the tub was in the room and my midwife began to fill it. She had turned my pitocin off to begin the loooong 30 minutes of monitoring once it’s turned off. By 4:30 I was allowed in the tub. I couldn’t get in fast enough and it felt amazing. Within minutes I had the urge to push. I was pushing on my hands and knees, and really getting a good rest between pushes. It wasn’t very many pushes later that your head was out.
After that I flipped over on my back to deliver the rest of you. I remember with the next contraction being told to pretty much keep pushing, pushing, pushing even when the urge wasn’t there. It was time to get the rest of you out! Before I knew it, there you were. My big beautiful boy, slightly blue and covered in vernix from head to toe. It seemed like an eternity, but it was only seconds before my midwife got you crying and you turned pink. You were finally in my arms. The baby that kicked me like a martial artist. The baby that I thought I almost lost. We were overjoyed to meet you—all 10 pounds 6.8 ounces of you. It took until the next day to decide your name. Zachary. Remembered by God. This is so true. He remembered you. He kept you safe. He brought you to us.