Just a few months after Jack was born I was at Target with Lillie in the basket of the cart and Jack fast asleep in his car seat holstered to the front by me. We had just checked out and were walking to put the cart away by the food court when all of a sudden I thought that one of our kids, a little boy, was missing. I was staring at both of them, Lillie and Jack, then let out a slight sigh of relief that all of my children were right there with me. I just knew then that there was a little boy missing from our family. These same occurrences happened dozens of times to both Dustin and I.
Now I know, I know. Our missing little boy ended up being a little girl--but I'll get to that later.
Just over a year later in May of 2011 we finally decided to have another baby. We had no idea that 23 emotionally exhausting, tear-filled months would follow. With each month that went by I began to feel more depressed and what started out of just being a bad day would turn into an entire bad week, until they just all became bad months. When other people would announce they were pregnant I had a very difficult time coping with the news. In November that same year, we experienced the pains of having a miscarriage. However, the worst moment was in January of 2013 when we were at Disneyland one night. It was devastating. It was difficult for both Dustin and I to not let Lillie or Jack see us both crying outside of the bathroom as we waited for the Color of Wonder show to start.
This next part is going to sound super-lame, let me forewarn you. But I decided to tell a few friends in my choir about what had been going on. (yes. I love choir.) To make a long story short, the choir began praying for me and our family. Many even participated in a special fast. I'll never forget my teacher, Brother Kempton, whole-heartedly praying for me and the desires of my family one day at the start of our rehearsal. The very next month we found out we were expecting. It could have been a movie, or something, It was magic.
Dustin and I decided years prior that when we were blessed with another baby that we wanted to be surprised and not find out the gender. There would be nothing to lose since we have a girl and a boy already, and it might be fun. Well let me tell you, the entire pregnancy we thought it was a boy. Well, sometimes I thought it could be a girl and would think about all the cute clothes of Lillie's that had been put away for over five years and all the cute hair bows and tiny and shiny Mary Jane shoes. But I just knew it was a boy deep down in my heart.
On Sunday night, September 30th, I began to freak out. It was like all of a sudden I panicked that we could have a baby soon and nothing was ready. Nothing. The next day I went shopping and bought everything I needed for the new baby--everything from a girl and boy newborn outfits to travel sized toiletries to a new bathrobe for the hospital to even breast milk storage bags. Dustin and I went on a huge grocery shopping trip and that night made 17 freezer crock pot meals. We put up the crib, the bassinette, and I packed my navy blue SHS XC duffle bag with everything I would need to bring to the hospital and put it in the baby's closet next to our new un-expired car seat. Even though we had 6 weeks to go, we were ready, baby.
On Thursday, October 3rd, my sister left to run her annual marathon in St. George (which she rocked at and finished in 3 hours and 31 minutes and qualified for the Boston Marathon... btw) and dropped off four of her daughters for me to watch for the weekend. We joked about me going into early labor with 6 kids running around here, but with over 5 weeks until my due date, I knew it wasn't going to happen. Plus, at my appointment on Tuesday a couple days before, I was not dilated, not even effaced.
So naturally I began to freak out again when at noon that Thursday I began spotting. Scary. I called the doctor immediately and was given the instructions to just go on bed rest for the rest of the day. They assumed the spotting was from being checked a couple days earlier, but because I had also been experiencing some strong Braxton Hicks contractions (of which were not regular between intervals), they told me to lay down on the couch for the entire day.
That night the Braxton Hicks contractions were so strong they were bringing me to tears. However, they were still not very regular. Dustin went to sleep and I tried to go to sleep but kept waking up from pain. At 2AM they were 15 minutes apart. I have absolutely no idea why I didn't wake up Dustin to tell him. At 7AM they were 6-8 minutes apart and STRONG. Dustin woke up, saw me laying next to him with tears in my eyes and in severe pain and said, "Okay. We're going to the hospital, Erika." I got up to pee to find that the entire toilet was full of blood. He frantically called his mom to come over and our 11-year old niece, Rachael, took care of the younger kids while I stayed in our room doing my hair in-between contractions. We thought for sure the doctors would just stop the contractions because I just wasn't suppose to have that baby yet.
We got to the hospital at 8AM and contractions were 3-5 minutes apart. I was dilated to a 5 and because my water partially broke, there was no stopping anything. It was horrible. I even remember saying to Dustin that I didn't remember labor hurting this bad before! Because I never had the Group-B strep test, they administered antibiotics through an IV just in case. The nurse kept telling me that there must be some reason why my body was going into labor. I felt so scared and unprepared. I kept thinking that I wasn't suppose to have a baby that day. I obviously wasn't planning on it, but the thoughts of everything that could go wrong kept swirling about in my head and I felt anxious. The NICU nurses came in to talk to me and to tell me about what to expect. It was obvious that our baby would end up there, we just couldn't predict how long. I called my SIL, Alli, who unluckily only has had NICU baby's, and talked to her. I don't even remember what I asked about and what she said, but I know it brought me comfort.
Everybody who has ever seen me in labor tells stories of weird things I say after I get that blessed epidural. It's vague to me now, but Dustin swears that I had a conversation with the kind anesthesiologist about Carol Hones and Jay Hildebrandt and supposedly began singing "Wednesday's Child!" in full voice. There must have been a logical reason for this.
After the antibiotics were finally done being administered, the doctor broke the rest of my amniotic sac (water) and all of a sudden it was time. Dustin got all suited-up, and Doctor Leavitt stood next to Dustin and gave him step-by-step instructions about how to deliver the baby. I had two amazing nurses on either side of me and Dustin right in front of me smiling. One contraction later, Dustin gently laid our new baby on my stomach. She was crying, and so were we! We were so surprised to find out that the baby that had been violently kicking my ribs for several months was actually a sweet baby girl. She was tiny and warm and looked just like Jack. It was 3:09 PM.
Apparently after she was born, an unusual amount of blood followed. The NICU staff pumped over 20 cc's of blood from her stomach and after giving her some oxygen and weighing her, etc, they wheeled her away with her Dad right there with her. Doctor Leavitt then discovered that I had an abrasion in my placenta-thus causing the spotting and bleeding and contracting and early labor. Apparently it's rare and unpreventable, but thankfully my body went into labor because even just one more day of her in there swallowing all of that blood could have potentially been fatal for her.
About an hour and a half later, I was able to go to the NICU to hold our baby girl for the first time. Dustin had already given her her first bath and she had on a purple and white hair bow. I couldn't get over how beautiful she was and how sweet she was. I had forgotten how sweet and pure a newborn feels. I was so proud of her. I felt so much love and so much gratitude for being given such a sweet baby. We named her Chloe Elizabeth.
The next 7 days were a blur but are vivid at the same time. Chloe ended up needing oxygen, antibiotics, IV fluids, high-intensity billi lights, some high-calorie supplementation, and a warm incubator to keep her body temperature stable and warm. She had so many cords and monitors on her constantly monitoring her heart rate, oxygen levels, how many breaths per minute she was taking, and her temperature. Everything had to be pristinely documented including how many minutes she ate for at every feeding and how many grams her diapers weighed and even what her glucose levels were every six hours. Chloe lost 14% of her body weight and was just 4 pounds 8 ounces when we brought her home on Friday, October 11th.
Those 7 days at the NICU were full of disappointment and gratitude. We were told we could bring her home on Monday, but then that changed to Wednesday, then that changed to Thursday, then finally Friday. Every day spent in the NICU felt like a week. But Chloe needed to be there. We have an increased amount of gratitude for the knowledge and experience and technology that she received from the best nurses, doctors, and specialists. But it was still hard and at times felt unmanageable and dark. Having Dustin go back to work on Monday and finding people to watch the kids and pick up Lillie from the bus or from school every single day, and still finding energy to celebrate Jack's 4th Birthday and going from excitement and joy of finding out you get to bring your baby home to utter devastation when they say it will be another 24-48 hours was just hard. Just so hard. So yes. those days were full of disappointment and complete gratitude at the same time.
I ended up writing out 14 thank you card's to 14 different families that helped out during that week. So many people stepped up and offered help at a time when we most needed it. On top of that, we received many text messages, phone calls, voice messages, cards, gifts, and prayers. The support and love helped sustain us.
And now she's been home for 2 weeks and it's all over. She weighed in on Tuesday at 5 pounds and 7 ounces and is gaining about 1 ounce per day. She also grew from 18 to 19 1/2 inches! She's still only .16% (not 16%, just .16%) but the doctor's are pleased with her growth. She's just beginning to outgrow her Preemie outfits and onesies and finally graduated from a folded over Preemie diaper to a newborn sized one, but she is still our sweet and tiny baby girl. The kids love her, but we love her more than they do and it's incredible to think that her Heavenly Father loves her more than we do. It's unfathomable.
Those painful 23 months seem so distant right now as I'm holding her all swaddled up on our bed typing out her story. She's perfect. She looks peaceful when she sleeps and still acts like a brand-new newborn. Our prayers have consisted of nothing but total gratitude for this perfect family and perfect daughter we've been given. There is no greater happiness. None.
