This Day, My Life Changed Forever

It's no secret I'm no writer, but I'm one heck of a storyteller. Tonight, as I catch up on my blog reading, it seems as though many are sharing of their birth stories and the emotions that came along with them. Oh how I can relate to this. I've birthed three beautiful daughters...all so precious and unique in their own way. Their births, nothing different. One, however, will always hold strong in my heart and in my head. Lillie. My sweet, gorgeous, just like mama, strong willed, bull headed, Christ loving...Lillie. Her story goes something like this...

Robert and I had been married four years before we found out that someone larger than you or I was blessing us with a miracle of His own. We hadn't planned for this. We were still immature, selfish, unprepared. That didn't matter. She was coming. She was a blessing. She would forever change my life. I didn't know just how much until "that" day...

Anyone who remembers me pregnant with Lillie knows just how undeniably huge my body (mostly belly) got while carrying her in my womb. It was almost grotesque the sight of my enlarged middle. How I stood, I'm still wondering. 63 pounds gained at 38 weeks pregnant. I was miserable. Robert was miserable. Heck, Dr. Anderson was miserable! Knowing that my own mom struggled with birthing my brother and I, the doctor decided we should consider inducing labor early to avoid any problems during labor. I was not going to argue...I wanted it more than anyone.

The alarm clock went off at 4:30 am on April 26th. D Day! We were due at the hospital by 6. I wanted to be showered, veiled with makeup, and well nourished for the journey. Mc Donald's has gotten my money with all three pre delivery meals. Upon arrival at the hospital, they got me into a gown and settled into a very mechanical hospital bed. The nurse came to start my IV. After making the comment I had "barn door veins", she missed twice and blew it the third attempt. She gave up. The phlebotomist traveled two floors to take care of the task. Good to go. Time to wait, wait, wait, for Dr. Anderson to arrive and insert the first round of cytotek. This was a labor inducing pill that softens the cervix and encourages dilation. You see, I wasn't dilated at all...not even effacing. Think Fort Knox secure. I had a long way to go. Fast forward about 8 hours...

Second round of cytotek inserted and still no dilation. It's around 4 o'clock in the afternoon on the 26th. Family from hours away have come to be present for the arrival. I'm walking the halls hoping something will encourage the process to jump start. Nothing. Another 8 hours later, it's midnight. The nurse says I'm starting to dilate, but barely. They think I should "take a break" and stop the cytotek, and begin again the next morning. I'm exhausted, but growl "we WILL keep going". And we did. Most patients don't need this much medication. This should have been our first warning, but all I wanted was to birth her, see her, touch her. Trudge on...

Around 3 am, I woke up with intense contractions. Holy mother of...what was happening? Labor? Real labor? What was I thinking when I insisted we make this happen? Pain. Lots of pain. I had to figure out how to work through it. It was suggested by the nurse that I get into a tub of warm water to help relax me. It was worth a try. They filled the huge tub up and I managed to lob my enormous self in. What I wasn't thinking about though, was the fact that with each contraction, my legs gave out. The pain was centered in my thighs and it felt like a rush of fire going through my veins. Being in a "pool" of water and no control of your legs...not a good idea. I hollered at them to get me out after only five minutes. Any longer, and I'm certain I would have drowned. Well, maybe not, but in that moment of panick, it sure felt like it. The birthing ball. They said I should try that. Apparently the bouncing on it would help relax me and move Lillie further into the birth canal. Again, what could it hurt. Well, nothing, until the first contraction that is. My legs surged with pain, gave out, and I found myself...all 170 pounds of it...on the floor of the hospital room. What a sight that must have been to all those present. Like a beached whale. None of these regimens were working and the pain was so intense. "Get me back in the bed!" There was no way I could handle this pain for another 24 hours. Without any pain meds at that point, I had to do something to handle the undescribable discomfort I was in. I left the room...not physically, mentally. I gripped the bedrails as if I was clinging to a small twig on a cliff's edge. I breathed hard so that I could focus on it's sound. Nobody in the room made a noise. It distracted me. The pain was horrible. I asked for an epidural. Nobody told me that the anesthesiologist, too, had to get showered, veiled with makeup, and well nourished before they would arrive. 2 hours later, relief. I was dilated to a 4 when they checked me around 8 am. I was discouraged. We had been there 26 hours and I was only a 4? How much longer could this last? That's when things got exciting...

My sweet nurse, Mary, was a friend of both families. We were so lucky to have her as my labor nurse. I had already put Mary through hell the prior 26 hours. I don't know why she returned to work that morning! At 9, one hour after the previous cervical check, Mary checked me and said "You're a ten!" My response..."Shut up!" Not in a "you're kidding" kind of way, a "if you joke with me one more time I'm gonna get up and beat you with this blood pressure cuff" kind of way. Only, she wasn't kidding. Six centimeters in one hour. Incredible. It was time. Call the doctor. He got there in 30 minutes. With the epidural, I felt no pain. Other than my impatience to see her, I was in no hurry. He must have known that, because he took forever getting scrubbed up and prepped. Around ten after 10, he was in position. He gave me my one and only direction. Push...

 There wasn't much of a struggle. Actual birth was quite easy. Robert and I watched in amazement as a beautiful life emerged from within me. We were smitten before we even saw her face. This was the most intense spiritual moment I had experienced to date. At 10:21 am on April 27th, a 7 pound 5 ounce, 21 1/2 inch, Lillie was born. She was gorgeous. Perfect. No cone head like most tell you to expect. No bruising. Absolutely perfect. I don't know who was crying more...her, me, Robert? It doesn't matter. We were a family and I know we were all crying from joy. My body held up great. She was able to birth normally, I didn't tear, and after fifteen minutes of clean up, we were done. She was mine. She was ours. My life, forever changed. Little did I know, it was going to change even more...

Being the first born grandchild on both sides, the hospital was swarming with family. I can't believe that most weren't kicked out. They lined the halls, which was prohibited. I would have loved to have seen anyone try to remove a Lewis from their post. Needless to say, visitors were bountiful from birth on. It was a bit overwhelming and tiring. I wanted to be presentable and coherent for each and every one of them. I was, however, extremely tired. I ignored the cues to sleep and greeted each guest as they arrived. Late in the afternoon, about six hours after her birth, Lillie and I were in our recovery room with a few guests as Daddy watched over us both. The fatigue was heavy on me. Things began to get fuzzy. I reached out to Robert and said, "Call the nurse, I'm going..." That's when I went faint. He immediately called a nurse. Within seconds she was there and checked my vitals. Blood pressure was down, very low. She lifted my bedding. It was blood soaked. I was hemmoraging. They called for emergency personnel backup and my guests were rushed out with no explanation. Things began to get very crazy...

Dr. Anderson was still in the hospital when they contacted him. He arrived within minutes to find my room already starting to look like a crowded subway station. Nurses were everywhere. I was in hysterics. Robert was in hysterics. My baby was in her glass isolet against a wall as Robert's mom stood beside with a look of disbelief and utter fear on her face. What was happening? The doctor began packing my insides with gauze, trying to stop the bleeding. It wasn't working. He would palpate my uterus and clots the size of plums would emerge. Nobody in that room looked like they had a clue what was going to happen. Nurses were crying. Robert was crying. The feeling of "this is it, I'm going to be a mother for 6 hours" set in. My mother in law called my mother on the phone. She didn't tell her why she needed to get to the hospital, only that I wanted to see her. Had she told her the truth, my mom wouldn't have been able to drive the one mile to the hospital. She had to come though, none of us knew what the outcome of this circumstance was going to be.They called in a specialist. He was down the hall delivering another baby. It was decided that I needed to be rushed in for a D&C. Before they could do this though, they had to get my blood pressure stabilized. This would take time. Time that we didn't know if I had...

Nurses pumped me with saline to hydrate me in hopes of raising my blood pressure. Doctors shoved consent papers at me that I had no clue what was on them. I was panicking. My husband is the kindest, sweetest man, but he reached a breaking point and shouted at them to "f-ing stop! She's scared. What's going on?!" I just remember at that point there was a young nurse standing at my bedside with a very large needle telling me she was going to insert it into a vein in my thigh to try and stop the bleeding. I wondered how she was going to see my thigh with the crocodile tears that welled up in her eyes and streamed down her face? I didn't feel the pain at all, but when she got done, I hollered "ouch!" at her. Things were still going ninety to nothing, but for a second, things became still. Dr. Anderson sat at the foot of the bed, covered in my blood. Robert at my face, stroking my head, sharing his tears with mine. Tricia next to Lillie, as she lay so peacefully in her isolet. That's when I asked him, the doctor, "am I going to be ok?" He responded, "I wouldn't be sitting here like this if you weren't." I said, "well, you look pretty terrified." He then told me that he had to let the specialist work from there...

As my father lay over me praying in ways I've never seen, and my husband holding my hand so tightly, they said I was stable enough to go into the OR. This was it. Was it "see you soon" or "good-bye"? I couldn't say the words that I felt. I wanted to say, "I'm so scared I will never see any of you again. I'm afraid to die. I don't want to die. Please promise I'll be back." All I got out was, "What's going to happen to Lillie?!" Robert replied that his "mom will stay with her." I love my mother in law, but that was hurtful. Probably because I meant "when I die" and he meant while I was in surgery. I imagined never being able to raise my precious daughter. As they wheeled me out of the blood spattered room, I glanced in the isolet at my sleeping infant, hoping to God that I would be reunited with her soon. "Take it all out! Take what you have to so that I'm ok!" Those were pleas as I went through the double doors. I heard a scream from behind me as the doors shut...

"Robert? Robert?" I said..."She wants her husband. We need to get her to him." These were the first words spoken as I came to. The OR recovery nurse heard me and told her colleagues to get me back with Robert as soon as possible. "My throat. What's wrong? I can't swallow." The nurse told me that they had to put a breathing tube down my throat and that everything would be fine now. I fell back to sleep. I have no recollection of when I came to again, but when I did, I was back in my room. It was clean. It was quiet. There was Robert, in a rocking chair holding Lillie, all swaddled and peaceful. I reached out to them. I was ok. My life was spared. It was my destiny to be a mother to her, God's perfect creature...

Dr. Anderson was amazed with my recovery. The next morning, I was up and walking, acting in my usual manner...running everyone's lives. I treked down the hall to take Lillie's first hospital photos, retrieved my own soda pop, visited guests in the hospital waiting room (after my hemmorage, the doctor restricted any visitors to my room exept our parents). When he came to check on me, Dr. Anderson found an empty room. He was none too happy to find me up, but he didn't fight me. I had shown him who the fighter was, and I showed him again when the recommended week hospital stay turned into just one more night. I am a bit proud of that. On Sunday, April 29th, I gently harnessed Lillie into her carseat for the ride home. She barely took up any space. The buckles looked like they would consume her. She squalled louder than anyhthing I had ever heard. This was going to be my life...

We all adjusted very well to our new life. I recovered even faster once home. Things were going to be ok. Better than ok. Things were going to be great. There wasn't much talk of the emergency situation. It was still too fresh. A couple of weeks after Lillie's birth, I mentioned to Robert that I remember hearing a scream as the OR doors shut, but didn't know which mother had done it. He replied, "that was me." I broke down. This man loved me more than his own life. For him, those doors closing could have been the end of his life as he knew it. Robert puts that day into words finer than I could. "It was the best and worst day of my life." I couldn't agree more...