We were having a baby.
WE WERE HAVING A BABY. (!!)
I was exactly one week past my due date and because of possible complications with my Crohn's Disease, the doctors thought it was best to go ahead and induce to avoid birthing a bigger baby. And the day had come!
It was still dark outside as we drove. We were quiet, both wondering how the day would unfold, both excited that by the end of it all we would see our daughter's face. When we arrived at the hospital, we were at the height of our emotions...it was really happening! And yet I wasn't in labor so it didn't feel real. As we juggled our bags, one of them ripped, the contents spilling out in the parking lot. Both feeling a little anxious (first time parent syndrome, ha), we started snapping at each other, which led to tears on my part, which led to comforting on Ben's part. It was all a mess...and a blur at this point. Life before Darcie in general feels like a distant dream.
In the maternity ward, I smiled to myself as I filled out paperwork. 07/27/17. A great day to have a baby, I thought. Isn't there supposed to be something significant about the number seven? Probably.
The nurse checking me in asked if I had a birth plan to give her.
"Nope! Just a healthy baby!" I had sat down a few times to "write" a birth plan and just couldn't envision what I'd want in the moment. So I decided just to trust my body, the doctors, and my husband. Let's gooooo.
Once we were settled in our room, my brother, Nicholas, showed up at 7am generously toting delicious Chick-fil-a breakfast (bless his soul). I'm a BIG breakfast eater and pretty much need it to function. Right as we were unwrapping the hot biscuits, the nurse came in and gently reminded me I could only have liquids. Definitely rookie status over here! I asked if I could AT LEAST have my iced coffee and she mischievously smiled, "as long as I don't see you take a sip."
So there I was. Not in labor. Really hungry. Sneaking coffee. Really anxious. And impatiently waiting. It seemed like FOREVER before I was hooked up to pitocin and the ball was rolling.
And roll it did!! Once I had my IV, I went from feeling hardly anything at all (& enjoying the perks of hospital popsicles) to doubled over in pain, teeth chattering, and announcing to the room that I was going to throw up at any moment. One of my funniest (if labor can ever be funny) memories is of Ben holding my barf bag and panicking at the contents.
"Um, she's throwing up blood." He told the nurse in the most calm yet terrified tone. The nurse barely offered a glance before correcting him matter-of-factly, "that's cherry popsicle." Looking back, I am. so. happy. I. did. not. eat. the. chick-fil-a.
The contractions WERE NOT following any sort of pattern. At first, they were come and go, but then they'd linger for minutes on end. Ben helped me "breathe through the pain" but I kept noticing the contractions weren't subsiding. And then when things would finally calm down, 10 seconds later they would be back in full force. I couldn't catch my breath, kept throwing up, and was only 4 centimeters dialated. I had a LONG way to go and I decided I didn't want to go the whole day this way. My sweet husband kept encouraging me, breathing with me, and squeezing my hand. But AS SOON AS I said to him, "I want the epidural" he didn't waste a breath before announcing to the room: "she wants the epidural...let's go!"
At the beginning of the day they told me that the anesthesiologist would take about 30 minutes to arrive from the time I requested the epidural -- that it would be the worst 30 minutes of my life if I waited too late to make the decision. But everything went so fast from grit-my-teeth bad to puking-shivering-sweating-writhing TERRIBLE that I almost cried thinking about waiting for some person somewhere being my only hope to take me out of my misery. The nurse returned a few moments later with some of the best news all day: "you're in luck! The anesthesiologist was actually a couple floors down and will be here shortly." I remember wanting to demand EXACTLY what shortly meant. How many minutes and excuse me, but is he HURRYING?! It was probably only 10 minutes before he arrived (although it felt like an hour) and I could have hugged him when he walked through the doors. He immediately started giving instruction / explanation that I could never repeat to you now if my life depended on it. This part is all a haze, but I remember honestly wondering how he expected me to get to the edge of the bed when he pointed to where I should sit. There was no way I could move from my fetal position...haha. Ben helped me and then was instructed to sit on a chair in front of me (even though he SOOO wanted a peek). I always thought I'd be super nervous about an epidural, but when the time came, I was welcoming it with OPEN ARMS and after trying to lighten the mood / distract me by saying things like "it's your DESTINY to have a baby today" and tossing in a couple Destiny's Child jokes, the anesthesiologist worked his magic -- and I barely felt a thing.
Afterward, things got much better. My mom arrived and shout out to her because her presence alone helped put me at ease...not to mention the drugs (HA). The afternoon seemed SO LONG as we waited for my labor to continue to progress. Ben held my hand the whole time and even spent time reading me Psalms, which filled me with renewed strength for what was coming later. Around 7pm I got wind that a lot of family had arrived in the waiting room. Ben's brother and sister-in-law had brought me a chicken platter from Pierce's BBQ and I agonized over not being able to eat it. I told Ben a few times to eat it, since he hadn't eaten since breakfast, but he very kindly declined every time saying they brought it for me, bless him.I'm a bit of a people pleaser and couldn't help but feel the pressure to "perform" set in. Everyone was waiting for the baby...so where was the baby?? What did I need to do to "get things rolling"? How could I speed up the process? My mom calmly informed me that I was on no one's schedule but baby's. I tried to be patient, but I couldn't shake the idea of people hanging around until midnight and slowly dwindling off one by one -- too tired and irritated from wasting their night in the hospital to meet their niece.
I felt very eager, yet still nervous when they checked me and informed me I was 10 centimeters and her head was right there! Nicole, the nurse, told me we were going to do a practice push to see how much I could move the head. And I panicked...this is it!! Wait, don't we need to get the doctor?! Why aren't you getting the doctor?!?!? The nurse gave me instructions, I did my best, and she said, "you're ready to go!" She must have seen my demeanor shift (maybe my face turned white?) and asked, "what are you so nervous about?"
"I just don't want to push for hours and hours. I really don't want to do that."
"Oh, honey...that baby is coming now. You'll push 15 minutes tops."
Ben, who had stayed calm and collected all day, went into panic mode and decided he needed to take on the job of informing everyone of the update. He jumped from his chair and darted across the room to get his phone, "I gotta text the family, I gotta text the family!" I quickly directed him to get his cute tail back over here and let someone else do the communicating. "My mom can text people. Come back here and don't move!"
Seconds later the doctor blew in with his crew, bright lights, and the whole 9 yards. THIS. WAS. IT. The rest was a blur. I pushed about 9 times in 15 minutes and it was the most exhilarating thing in the world (my sister photographer BARELY made it there to take photos of baby's grand entrance). I remember them letting me know her head was out, telling me to keep going, saying I was almost there. I remember Ben holding my hand and holding his breath during every contraction as I pushed. I remember my mom standing next to the bed looking from the doctors back to me and giving me the most heartfelt encouragement. But there's about 3 seconds where things went black (is this normal?) -- they told me to give one more push and I pushed with all my might then things sounded REALLY far away...and Ben's voice seemed to get closer and closer as he cried over me, "She's here! She's here! You did it! You did it!" over and over and over again. It took me a minute to comprehend what had happened. That I just birthed my daughter. That she was here. That I was DONE. I began to cry. And couldn't stop. At 8:36pm, they laid a screaming 7lb baby on my chest and I think the world stopped. It was pure magic. She was crying. I was crying. Ben was crying. All he said over and over was how much he loved me. How much he loved her. He leaned his face close to mine, his nose on my nose, and stroked her tiny body, calling her by her name. Darcie James. Suddenly she stopped crying, opened her eyes, and just stared. Her eyes taking in whatever they could. My mom gasped and said, "Destiny, she has your eyes!" My heart exploded. She was actually, seriously, absolutely, definitely MINE!!!!
I had made a worship playlist that'd been playing all day. It was important to me to have the atmosphere just right with music that would help me remain focused and calm. The song playing when she entered the world was "Here Now" by Hillsong United.Here now
Still my heart
Let Your voice be all I hear now
Fix my eyes on things that I can't see now
Spirit breathe like the wind come have Your way
'Cause I know You're in this place
It was spiritual moment. The presence of Jesus marking the moment two became three, the moment our family changed forever, the moment our love grew deeper and stronger than we thought possible, the moment we welcomed the next generation, the moment we extended our hearts to a tiny person who will carry our name and continue our legacy.
Still my heart.
Fix my eyes.
Spirit breathe.
Have Your way.
Soon after I nursed Darcie (also an amazing experience), the room began to fill with people. First my sisters (who kept telling me how proud they were of me), then the rest of the family followed. Someone reminded me of my now cold meal and I nearly cried with joy and hunger. I will forever herald that chicken BBQ sandwich, mac & cheese, and those french fries as the best food I've ever, ever, EVER tasted. The most satisfying meal of my life. Also the most savored meal of my life. It's a joke now about how ridiculously long it took me to eat a normal sized meal...relishing every crumb as people passed around Darcie for the next hour. One of my little brothers had the nerve to ask for a bite and my mom quickly came to my defense: "she hasn't eaten in 15 hours and just did the hardest work of her life." Thanks, mom. I love you for protecting my post-labor fries. You're the greatest.
We somehow scored the largest labor & delivery room in the hospital and it's a good thing because that night we had 30 people crammed in the room to meet our little love. And everyone got to hold her before they left! I know...I'm crazy. But I think I was more overtired than overprotective...exhaustion won out! We were in the hospital anyway...a super safe place for a baby to meet all her extended family, right??? So meet them she did. All while I continued dumping BBQ sauce on my smoked chicken. I told you it made a forever impact (thank you, Breanna & Isaac!) It was really special having both sides of our families there together. The two grandfathers quieted the room and prayed a blessing over Darcie's small, yet already significant life. They prayed boldly over her future, for her to grow in compassion, kindness, and courage. Ben and I prayed many, many prayers over her while she was in the womb so it was fitting to start her life on earth the same way she spent her life inside me.
Our first night as parents was something I'll never forget. We managed to make it until 11:30pm or so and even then...I had to remind myself that I should probably sleep. You don't think to sleep in a hospital...I don't know what it is -- maybe the sterile environment, the feeling like you're just visiting, the tiny human you don't want to take your eyes off of, or the nurses buzzing around like bees, wide awake and peppy. And maybe it's just the aftermath of all the excitement. I had this "what's next?" mentality...adrenaline mixed with awe. I had just accomplished the greatest feat of my life and felt on top of the world, soaring...like I could do anything. Who needs sleep?! Ben not so much. He grabbed some blankets and made himself as comfortable as possible on the small couch. Darcie slept soundly in the hospital crib nestled in the space between the bed and the couch. Unknown to her, she was rightfully taking her place where she'll stay forever -- right between her dad and me...the middle of our world...the center of our love.The lights were off. The machines were quiet. The family was gone. The excitement was over. The nurses had shut our door. This was us. My family. All together. My dream. Goodnight, rockstar husband. Goodnight, my darling daughter. Goodnight, most perfect day ever.
It was raining that night...it actually rained the whole weekend we were in the hospital. But that night I fell asleep listening to the rain, lingering on every rapid breath of our very own daughter sleeping just an arms reach away who was finally with us and who we would finally get to know & love. I drifted off only to have a nurse come tumbling into the room rolling a cart right up to my bedside to get my vitals AND TAKE BLOOD at 1:30am (is this normal? I think it might have been because they worried I would need a blood transfusion during delivery and were just keeping an eye on my hemoglobin levels...?). Getting stuck with a needle when you're half asleep is about as fun as it sounds. But my bigger concern was disrupting that little newborn slumber. If you wake up my baby, lady...
Darcie did wake up at 3am coughing up fluid, nearly giving me and Ben heart attacks. Rookie parents at it again. Apparently babies swallow fluid during the birthing process that they cough up for a day or so. The curdling gagging sound caused us both to SHOOT up instantly. The moment I twisted to reach for the baby, I became KEENLY aware that my epidural had worn off. SO painful. Ben swiftly picked her upright so she could cough better and then cuddled her close to comfort her. Seeing him with her made my heart melt despite my physical discomfort. In the darkness of that hospital room were the two brightest lights of my life. Ben jumped into full on Dad duty because I could barely move. He changed her diaper -- to which she peed and pooped halfway through. He then spent 10 minutes practicing his best swaddling skills -- to which Darcie kept breaking out of. Whew! She was already testing his patience 8 hours in. HA.
The next two days were blissfully full of flowers, gifts, coffee, and visitors. Whenever people offered to bring food, I happily requested specifically whatever gave me crazy indigestion while pregnant. Buffalo chicken wraps, fruit smoothies, caramel macchiatos, greasy pizza. Hallelujah. We felt so loved and supported...realizing over and over how seriously loved this baby would be. It takes a village and we kept smiling thinking we had the best of the best. My sweet husband was the PRO organizer / communicator / coordinator of our schedule. He made sure people got to meet our daughter while making sure I was recovering well, keeping on a good nursing schedule, and getting time to adjust. I am so grateful for his strength in keeping us all on track always. He attended to my every need. Comforted me and cared for me as I navigated those first few days of motherhood. I knew right away that this was just Ben doing Ben things: serving and loving and balancing and protecting. Darcie will come to know these things well.
We headed home on a Saturday. And felt very emotional leaving the hospital. You go in without a baby and you leave with one. Strangest thing. It feels like you procured the child at the hospital and that's where she belongs, never to be taken from her natural habitat. She's safest there anyway...they're good at taking care of her. They shouldn't really trust 20 something young parents on their own with this highly fragile human being. Our sweet nurse walked us to our car and gave us a hug before we loaded up and headed off to our new reality. Darcie screamed the whole 10 minute drive home while we futively blasted Hillsong lullabies. The most magical moment was when we walked in the door of HOME. Darcie immediately stopped crying, calmly concentrated on my face, and then slowly moved her gaze across the room. This is your home, sweet little love. I cried and cried (Ben didn't know what to do with me)...tears of happiness...completeness...relief...exhaustion.
I DID IT. SHE'S HERE. WE'RE HOME. IT'S THE BEGINNING OF EVERYTHING.
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