Hope and a Birth Story

While we're at it and lest we ever forget... pieced together from her journal, baby book, and our video/memories. :)
***

So we didn't even listen when they talked about c-sections in our birthing class. Sure, Hope's pregnancy was full-- chocked full-- of surprises. But a c-section? No way!

As I began my rotation through our OB's office, you might know I found out her breech position at an appointment without Joe. With my l-e-a-s-t favorite doctor. On an afternoon when I had practically broken my neck to get there after school.

They threw in that I was Group B Strep (GBS) positive as a bonus.

An ultrasound confirmed her presentation, and I went home crying because I didn't fully understand what all that meant. Joe and I began researching methods and options. We prayed and sought advice. After all, we were almost a full month from delivering. She had plenty of time to turn.

Or not.

A few days later I began having strong contractions. They were definitely all over the map, but making me work. After about a day and half of that, we made a midnight run to the hospital just to be sure that nothing further was up with what had already been a high risk pregnancy. They sent me back home with strict instructions to take it easy and to stay off my feet as much as possible, especially since I had a lingering upper respiratory infection that I couldn't shake. The doctor prescribed me an antibiotic to help with clearing up the rest of that mess, something I had avoided as long as I possibly could.

I called my school after leaving the office and my incredibly supportive principal told me I'd be fired if I didn't stay at home as long as I needed to take care of our girl. Blessed woman!

As an aside... the year before I was teaching at-risk students to read and write at a different school I simply loved. When the funding was cut at the year's end, I was so discouraged. I drug my resume and my morning sick self all around one of the largest school systems in Virgina trying to land a similar job. The only thing available was at a brand new (beautiful, spotless!) school kind of far away from our house.

As the principal gave me the tour, I kept hearing God say, "It's clean, you won't get sick." A strange confirmation to accept a job, but I took it and began working a few weeks later.

One night Joe yelled from our living room, "Get in here! You have GOT to see this!" I rushed in to find him watching the news. Across the screen flashed pictures of the school where the funding had been cut, the school I so badly wanted to be at while pregnant with Hope. The entire thing had been shut down due to a horrible strand of the Norovirus which had sent hundreds home terribly sick. The images I remember most were custodians and personnel literally scrubbing everything in sight from top to bottom.

"It's clean, Katrina, you won't get sick."

So... :)

We stopped by the store on the way home and loaded up on lots of healthy foods and DVD's, but almost immediately upon walking in the door the contractions picked back up again. We got out my birthing ball. I took warm showers. Joe rubbed my back and legs, prayed over me, "danced" with me, and breathed with me.

"Surely, surely these can't be only Braxton Hicks!" I told him.

For two days I labored, sometimes having contractions every ten minutes or less and sometimes only a couple of them an hour. Lots and lots of back labor all through the day and night. Just when I thought my strength had worn thin, I was granted some of the sweetest sleep I'd had in days.

I woke up the next morning and rolled over to see the alarm clock flashing 9:00 am... a pleasant surprise! Joe hugged me tight and told me he was going to stay home again that morning just to be sure I was okay. Happy about that and in a sleepy stupor I got up to go to the bathroom when I began to leak fluid.

I was the one yelling this time for Joe to come to me!

He called my OB's office, and they asked if my water had broken. Joe began the question, "Katrina, do you think...," but before he could finish the sentence the flood gates opened. Reading his mind I exclaimed, "Get off the phone! We've got to get to hospital!"

I kept thinking about how they couldn't give me the necessary antibiotic for being GBS positive now that my water had broken. It was only later that I was reminded of the antibiotics already in my system for my upper respiratory infection. The same antibiotics I had been avoiding until just before my almost month early delivery.

Yep, and so... :)

In adrenaline filled craziness, we threw things in the car and I remember Joe jumping in the shower. "What are you doing?" I hollered as I tried to find a clean pair of stretchy pants. "I just want to be totally alert," he explained.

Umm, honey, are you kidding me?!

Soon we were on our way, though, and Joe called our families to ask them to pray. We scrambled to arrange for a dog sitter. Our dear friends, who had all our information and directions, were out of town along with a great many from our small group. My parents weren't due to make the seven+ hour trek to our house for another two weeks. Thankfully we got in touch with other friends and quickly tied up loose ends. Dad and Mom Britt assured us they were on the way, so we were further able to relax.

By the time we got to the hospital I was soaked... the receptionist took one look at me, and I was whisked away in a wheel chair. Due to baby's position, once my water broke the incredible pressure subsided as well. In fact, I could hardly feel anything at all!

In our room Joe held my hand tightly, and we waited on what we hoped was my beloved OB to be on call. Instead, that l-e-a-s-t favorite guy came briskly into the room and began asking questions. My eyes filled with tears, and Joe immediately figured out what was wrong.

When that OB left, Joe pulled the nurse aside and asked if they could call our Dr. Morgan. This physician had made special visits, whether he was on call or not, to be with us during particularly hard emergency visits. She understood completely and quickly made the call. Within minutes she informed us all that Dr. Morgan was on his way and would take care of everything from there.

Peace washed over me.

Dr. Morgan came in and shared congratulations with us. Then he said, "Well, how about we see if this girl has moved?" We held our breath, but we had already decided that if she were breech then we would be okay with what that probably meant. We had only asked that God start the labor so we could feel confident in our decision to proceed, which He did. Sure enough, she looked exactly the same as the other ultrasound... firmly resting her bottom first and legs folded up around her face, just like it felt she had been for a good month.

He made sure to carefully explain things to us and to give us our options. In the end we felt that same peace calling us into the operating room. We had no regrets.

The team was amazing. The spinal took quickly and everyone was truly patient, funny, and kind. The best part was finishing up the prep stages and them letting Joe back in the room to be by my side. He immediately teared up at what I found out later was his having to see me so vulnerable, and he made a bee line to the other side of the sheet.

My doctor started giving me descriptions of what he was doing, and I jumped right in with, "That's okay, Dr. Morgan, I don't need a blow by blow. Just get our little girl out please!" The room laughed quietly and I whispered for Joe to start talking to me about whatever came to mind. One of a million times I'm so glad God gave me a great communicator to share this life with.

I remember, just like many times throughout the pregnancy, Joe quoted verses from Psalms. He reminded me that in just minutes we'd see our little girl and wondered what she might look like. He hoped she got my good eyesight and teeth and not his... you know, so we could avoid glasses and braces. I'm sure there was more, but it was like wonderfully comforting fuzz.

In no time I heard him exclaim, "She's here! She's here!"

I began asking, "Is she okay???" because I didn't hear any crying yet.

Finally I heard those lungs open up, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. All Joe could get out through his tears was, "She's beautiful! I knew she would be. She's so beautiful!" He also let me know each and every thing they were doing so I could feel like I was right there. I was grateful he innately understood I needed that so badly.

They tried to get her over to me as soon as possible and all I could do was cry. Joe was right; she was a dark headed blur of beautiful! The worst part of a c-section to me was not the lingering scar or the tender area to heal... it was the inability to really hold my child right away, the one I'd been waiting so desperately to meet.

Joe went to be with her as they ran the tests, and I waited for Dr. Morgan to finish putting me back together. As he worked, he shared some final thoughts with me.

"Katrina, I can tell you this now but honestly I never thought we'd make it to her birthday."

My mind raced back to about a week before this moment when I woke up in the middle of the night to suggest the name Hope. Our two top contenders until that night had been Annalise and Helena, very different from that simple alternative.

"He just didn't have much hope," I thought to myself and smiled.

Out loud I told the team, "Well, it was thanks to the prayers of so many that she's here. I'm certain of that."

When reunited with Joe and our baby girl, I shared this exchange. We knew that was to be her name. Joe opened a baby book we brought with us straight to the "E" section where he quickly found Eliana.

It's meaning: "God answers."

So true... God answered with hope.

With our Hope.

And I'm so glad He still does, even when it feels so very different from how you thought it would be.

Welcome to the world

Beautiful Hope Eliana

"God's answer of hope"

Born at 11:57 am on January 19th

7 lbs. 11 oz.

~Katrina