lily lane graham
july 26 . 10:20pm . 7lb . 19 3/4in
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There wasn't a single moment of my pregnancy where I didn't feel His provision. She was an answer to prayer, and so was her birth.
From my first contraction way back at twenty weeks we prayed for her to stay put until 36 weeks. And when we looked like we were in our safe zone, I started praying for her to come early enough that my mom would get time with her after all she had done for us. After all the false alarms, I was doubtful that I would recognize the real deal, so I prayed ceaselessly for wisdom, patience, and for my water to break at go-time so we'd really know. I prayed over my birth plan, I prayed to get paired with the best nurses, and I prayed so very hard not to tear anteriorly again. I prayed our Lily would come quickly and safely. And He provided.
On Saturday I woke up with a feeling that labor was near. The nesting fever took over, and we cleaned. I was very intentional with Violet, loving on that ball of energy as best I could. I insisted on a date night, and Bobby dragged me out under some pretty threatening skies to see the most gorgeous sunset. The contractions woke me before sunrise on Sunday. They were five minutes apart for an hour before we left for church, but we carried on anyway (how many times had I gotten here before...). Every now and then I would have a break for an hour or so, but they were so persistent that I scheduled dear friends who could stay with Violet because I wasn't sure I'd make it through the night. Monday came quietly, and we rested. On Tuesday, I saw my doctor. This was our first appointment in a while so I came in with a load of questions. I was 3cm dilated, the same as when my waters broke with Violet. She told me that I probably should have come in Sunday, that I was ready any day and would probably not be able to tell false labor apart from labor labor. And Violet came so fast after transition that I shouldn't risk it. We discussed the best positions for pushing to try and prevent tearing (but she warned me that I would most likely tear again). We went to Sam's Club for our daily air conditioned walk, and V found Minions gummies and HAD to hug the box. On the way home she fell asleep hugging that thing, and as I giggled at my girl we hit the mother of all pot-holes. Pop. It was a little pop, but I was grateful for the towels and plastic table cloth I'd been sitting on for weeks. When we got home, my panties were a little damp, but you tend to sweat a lot in Texas so I wasn't sure. After a few home tests, I was sure I was leaking. So I called my amazing friend, Angela, and asked her to come have a sleepover with V, and we loaded up.
We got to the hospital around 11pm for testing. The testing center had just closed, so we headed up to l&d. My contractions had started, but were pretty irregular. The nurse seemed pretty doubtful that my amniotic fluid test would come back positive, but it did! It was officially go-time, and I was ready. While I changed into Depends, shorts, and a sports bra for my marathon, mom prepped the crock pot with warm water, coconut oil, and lavender for hot perineal compresses. We started those at midnight and I swear they saved me. Contractions came every few minutes, but the night was overall restful. Near shift change my nurse, Deanne, came in and asked about induction. I think I shocked her a little when I said I wanted to start on pitocin right away, no epidural. I didn't want to dilly dally and end up with a cesarean. We were on the clock and had about twelve hours left according to hospital policy. She left me in the hands of Nurse Christine, my incredible nurse who is the sole reason I made it through Violet's birth without an epidural. Praise. With V, the pitocin destroyed me. It worked it's magic and she was born six hours later, but it was terrible. This time, I addressed all of Violet's birthday invitations, ate a snack, did about a hundred squats, and watched a lot of Frasier with Mom and Bobby. I couldn't even feel most of my contractions, and apparently neither could my cervix.
I think it was around 3pm when the two doctors from my practice came in to assess the situation. I was still no further dilated, and by belly was very tight. An ultrasound revealed that my forewaters (under her head) were still intact and taking the brunt of my labor. So they ruptured them (which was so weird!!!!!). Soon after, my labor intensified. Christine helped me work out a nice little circuit so I could change positions every twenty minutes. I was hoping she'd still be around for transition, but at shift change, Deanne and Dr. Gibson came in. It was comforting to know that familiar faces who were both well versed with my birth plan would be there when things got hard.
Time is a funny thing. I felt like I'd been in that room for days at that point, but once contractions got regular time flew by. I wish I'd eaten more, I got weak with a couple hours to go, but couldn't stomach anything other than coconut water. Things were intense for a while, and then suddenly they weren't and I was past the 24 hour mark by a couple of hours. I was scared of the threat of the knife, so my nurse started me back on a small dose of pitocin. A few minutes later, I recognized my old friend "transition." My nurse checked and I was only 7cm, but I told her I was very close and that I wanted to drop the bed so that I could use the squat bar if I needed it. She didn't take my haste seriously, and went to check her other patient and find a bed that worked (mine wasn't dropping correctly). Minutes later I told Bobby to get the doctor, she was coming! My mom helped me get into position and I told her "she's crowning!" My doubtful nurse pushed the new bed in, I think expecting to find me in transition. When she looked down and saw Lily's head starting to poke out, she finally got some pep in her step and called for doctor "right now!" Dr. Gibson had time to get one glove on just in time to catch Lily with my help. It was 10:20pm. Not a single push, not a single tear. It was everything I'd hoped and prayed for. She let out one little cry and nuzzled right into my arms, perfectly content. After the delivery crew finished cleaning up the downtown, Lily rooted, latched, and nursed for 45 minutes. It was so peaceful.
They came and weighed her and Bobby cuddled with her while the nurse helped me shower and dress. Then Mom got to love on her while we all dozed a bit. When we got up to our room, the pedi-nurse took her stats. And then she took them again. She wasn't breathing right. She needed to go to the NICU. My heart stopped. But I was so tired and hungry that I decided to eat my sandwich and get one last night of good sleep. Bobby went with Lily to meet her doctors and discuss the game plan. The next morning we went to the NICU first thing. She wasn't keeping her body temperature high enough now, and she was spitting up the little they could get her to eat. I was told that these were all common problems in preemies. She was supposed to be there for a day and get released with me. They finally let me nurse her again, and all those problems went away. Unfortunately, her oxygen saturation took a very sudden drop while I ate lunch. The nurse saw her turn blue and picked her up, and she regained color quickly. And while I was so glad she was being monitored in the NICU at the time, it meant we would be there for five more days. Those days were some of the hardest I've lived. They came with many tears, some really odd napping spots, and countless cups of coffee. Mom and Bobby took turns with my at the hospital and loving on a very confused Violet at home. They were long and difficult, but those days ended. We finally brought Lily home, and Violet finally got to meet her sister.
Every detail of Lily's arrival and even of our very brief time in the NICU showed me how much God loves me, how he cares and provides for every need. I love our perfect story.
