Our Story

Eisley:

2:30 pm- wet

3:30 pm- nursed

7:30 pm- nursed (about 20 minutes)

8:30-10 pm- sleep

10-10:35 pm- nursed

11- sleep

2 am- nursed

4 am- nursed

You’re here.

Saying my heart exploded when I met you is entirely an understatement…More than just my heart exploded. My entire insides experienced an overwhelming and fierce upheaval. Maybe it is that my heart expanded to occupy my entire body, to accommodate what I feel for you.

Last Sunday, one week ago, severe contractions began. By the middle of the night they were 10 minutes apart, then 7 by morning. I did some of my laboring in the tub, which was soothing, and by 7:30 am Monday morning our bags were by the door and I was yelling through intense pain, waiting as my family rushed around for any last minute things we might need.

I’ve joked for most of this pregnancy that I probably make my taxi drivers leery of taking me anywhere for fear that I will go into labor in their car. But Monday your daddy, papa and nanny piled in the back seat and your laboring mama was bracing herself four minutes apart, shouting to your dad to time and for everyone else to please be quiet until it passed. Our driver didn’tspeak English but he clearly knew what was going on, as “OH MY GOSH OWWWWWWWW!”from the mouth of a swollen, baby bellied woman is universal. I also got very very sick moments before arriving at the hospital, and he had to pull to the side of the road to let me out. He was white knuckled clutching the steering wheel, driving as fast as he possibly could. I wonder what was going through his mind.

8:30 By the time I get to the laboring room, I am 3 cmdilated. Our hospital doesn’t allow papas in the room with mamas for the actual delivery, but they are willing to let yours in for the laboring portion. In fifteen minutes he is suited up in scrubs and knocking on the door, but I have already dilated 8 cm. Our sweet nurse, Fanny, opens the door to him and says, “No need you come in, baby will be here very soon.” I look at her and say, “I won’t be able to have an epidural, will I.” “No need!” she says, and they wheel us to the delivery room.

9:15 There are five or six nurses in here with me, as well as the doctor who will deliver you. Fanny is the only one who speaks English,and she is very pregnant herself. We have butted heads on a few occasions during some appointments- two pregnant ladies sometimes just don’t mix. I was very sensitive, she was very abrasive. But right now, giving birth to you- I am so thankful she is here. I think I tell her this eight or nine times in between contractions, with tears running down my face. She keeps telling me I am so brave, that my baby is coming, and she is not small! I remember thinking that I need to shout louder than this pain to get through it- I was yelling at the top of my lungs. The doctor scolds me- in labor with you!!- NOT TO SHOUT. I want to give her something to shout about.

9:35 Fanny is telling me that she sees your head, that you are almost here, that I am so brave. She tells me to push again when I feel I need to- I tell her I don’t want to push anymore. She squeezes my hand and pours water in my mouth and tells me my baby is almost here. One more, maybe two more times and I can meet you. The pain is absolutely blinding. Exhaustion suddenly turns into extreme focus, and I feel your body- this person that has been growing in me for nearly a year!- come out of mine. Then I hear it. The most beautiful- most moving- most hand crafted for my heart sound- your tiny little baby Eisley cry.

I feel wave on wave on wave of relief. You are here. That you can breathe. That the pain is over.

The doctors have to stitch me and I haven’t seen you yet. I don’t know why this is, but they didn’t feel the need to numb me. Maybe they thought the pressure of labor would have numbed me naturally, but it sure didn't. I feel each and every stitch and am screaming in torment. Again they tell me to relax. Again sweat and tears are running down my face. I ask Fanny again and again- do they know I can feel it. Can they give me medicine. Please no more.

A nurse across the room is wrapping you up, and she brings you over to me. I can’t touch you yet, but she wisely puts your face right up to mine. You open your eyes. You look right into me. You devastate and ruin mein this moment. I can’t believe how gorgeous you are. You’re clean, a little swollen, and your eyelashes are blonde- almost white. So clear, so awake and alert. You’re taking me in and I’m taking you in. And the pain literally washes away. I don’t feel anything except your gaze. I always thought the word "miracle” was tired- but I get it now. Your smell and your eyes and the exploding inside me- I’ll never forget.

There was a lot of craziness over the next day and a half, and they didn't let your daddy meet you until two hours after you were born, and the doctor caused you a sugar crash, and the nurses gave you a heat rash, and at one point the sugar water they tried to give you caused you to choke and turn completely purple while the nurses stood around saying you were fine and tapping your back. Your daddy grabbed you from them and ran out the door and down the hall to NICU- we literally pushed the nurses to follow, yelling that you were not fine and to please help you. Your nanny still says it was theworst moment of her life. I had an IV in my hand and couldn’t follow- your grandpa came back and prayed with me and a few moments later I heard your cry again. Our time in the hospital was a lot to handle, but it really doesn't matter at all now. I told you before that your life is a miracle. You came right on time, you are so long and chubby and beautiful and your daddy is so crazy in love. Your neck is so strong, your grip is so tight, your eyes are so wide.

When I first saw your dad after giving birth to you, I told him that what they say about forgetting the pain- it’s all a lie. How could anyone forget that. A week in and I see what they are talking about. You made a mommy out of me, Eisley. In a second you turned us into a family. I stare at you in awe that you are here- you are finally here and I can finally verify for myself moment by moment that you are okay. You have a diaper rash today and I said that your little cries of pain hurt worse than labor. You break my heart-you absolutely devastate me with emotion! One day you might read this and roll your eyes, but it’s all true. I just can’t believe you're mine.

I guess I’ll stop there because there is enough gush to never really end. Ridiculous loads of love, my baby.

Mama

What I want to teach you.

If I teach you anything, I hope it is the beauty of compassion. I heard once that hate is not the opposite of love, indifference is. I sometimes wonder if people think that showing compassion would make them seen weak. Some people only want to give advice. Maybe it makes them feel less helpless. But a large portion of the time I have found that advice is not what is needed...in times of great trial and pain, advice does not soothe like mercy. It usually burns like salt. My dad (your grandpa) is the very best example of a merciful listener. He has given me grace by not taking sides, not offering advice, just being a safe place to cry out about the thorns digging in my heart. These times are rare, but when they happen, he gives me a tender look that tells me he cares about my pain, and when I'm finished he tells me he loves me. It soothes like balm. Why is it so hard for us to be in the presence of pain without feeling the need to minimize it? Pain need not be compared... Some is certainly greater than others...when I see a homeless person begging, maybe my fortune seems obnoxious to me and brings me shame. There's no need for this. Maybe a rising wave of compassion leading to a wordless prayer and tears are the real language of the heart of mercy. To be able to say honestly- I am in the presence of suffering that I do not understand, and as a human alongside this one, my heart is broken. Because compassion means I have the capacity to feel deeply pain that I myself am not experiencing, as though it were me in their place, as it so easily could have been.

Just thinking.
Xo

High risk in China. What it's like.

I know you're not actually late.

It just feels like you are because we have expected you so many times. You're still two weeks away from your due date, but we've been told to expect you no later than 36 weeks. At one point we were even told 28 weeks. Looks like you're more of a trooper than the doctors expected.

When you grow up and decide to have babies, I'm going to advise you not to do so in China. Now maybe that isn't fair, because I have a few friends with perfectly smooth birthing stories here in china...however, for whatever reason, no medical professional seems to know what to do with us.

At my 36 wk check up they told us the placenta had matured too much again. They gave you one week to hang out in my belly and said to come back the following Tuesday to check in to the hospital and prep for a cesarean. The following day is a Wednesday, and I got my first taste of back labor contractions and I did not care for them. They lasted for 12 hours and I yelled a lot, then they went away and returned Thursday evening. We went to the hospital, and you basically know that whole story. Stayed for two days, tried to induce labor, a host of tests and THEN an actual water test which neither led them to confirm or deny that my water was broken. (they told me the day before that it had.) Sent us home pretty confused.

Tuesday, the day of my actual appointment, comes around and your dad is stuck in Hong Kong. Wednesday I go in for an ultrasound bc I am beginning to realize that I am told a vastly different story about you each visit. They tell me nothing about the placenta, but this doctor is concerned about the umbilical cord maturity. Suggests I stay in hospital for next week for monitoring. I am reluctant (actually, I refuse) to stay there again, and want to go ahead with the cesarean that was already planned a week ago. Doctor tells me to come in following day fasting for blood work and other prep, and I will be checked in and have the surgery the following day. (Friday).

Thursday: bags packed and ready, again. I tried to fast, but I'm a pregnant diabetic. I lasted about 7 hours before my blood sugar crashed and I had to eat. In the morning I try calling two numbers I've been given to find out what I should do. (I've gone all the way out there and been sent home before after unsuccessful fasts and I wanted to avoid that.) (And honestly, who expects a pregnant diabetic to fast for 12 hours??)
No answer. I arrive late and am lectured. Resist urge to throw rocks/curse, mostly bc I have no rocks in reaching distance. Nurse looks at my file and says I don't need blood work bc I was just here a few days ago, and there was no need for me to fast. (Do they think I am coming up with these instructions on my own??) The doctor who told me to fast had my file and knew I was just in the hospital. I probably didn't roll my eyes but I'm sure I sighed loudly.
Get to maternity ward. Maternity ward doctor asks through translator why i want to make my baby come early. Why do I want to have a surgery....seriously??
She then says that even if they could procure my blood type, the Chinese blood would not mix with the foreigners blood.
Seriously. She said that.
She then admits (after A LOT of back and forth that felt like hitting your head on a wall...really, don't try it.) that she doesn't want to treat me bc I am foreigner and she feels if something went wrong, it would reflect poorly on her.
At this point I actually feel compassion. (kind of refreshing bc all I had been feeling was frustration.) I felt sad for the fear she lives under. I know Jesus and I still live in fear. What kind of chains must she be in to just lie and grasp at straws to avoid treating me.
They check us in shortly after (I still don't know why) and we wait for 4 or 5 hours (your grandparents and I) until she finally comes and says there is nothing wrong that would be cause for us to take you out early. This is not after another exam or test. I assume it was after reviewing my file, but who knows, because those same files led other doctors to believe you need to come out immediately.
She suggests we stay in the hospital for monitoring. I don't understand this bc if nothing is wrong, why can't i just go home. I say I stayed here before based on this hospitals recommendation, was charged obscenely and then discharged under the conclusion that it was all unnecessary. I feel like a puppet that two small children are fighting over.
She tells me that the hospital
Policy is that if a baby is born before 38 weeks, she will be place in NICU regardless of how healthy she is, and that would cost us a great deal. I say fine. Schedule the cesarean for next week, when we are 38 weeks, and I will come in twice for additional monitoring.
Two days later i come in for a checkup- fetal monitoring, blood
Pressure, etc. So glad it was a Sunday and your dad could come with me...At this checkup my blood pressure is high, my ankles and feet are swollen, and your heart is beating a little on the quick side. They also measure some contractions and feel strongly that I should check in to the hospital.
I cry. Because Im overwhelmed, and exhausted of being told things that don't pan out or add up. They are saying edemia and preeclampsia and I've read of these things and i don't want to take the risk, and our sweet English speaking nurse is insisting we stay so that if you are in distress they can detect it right away and rescue you. We agree. Check in. Pay. Etc. Get to our room. A new maternity ward doctor comes, takes my blood pressure, reviews all my paperwork, and examines my abdomen. Says you have dropped half way. (Best news of the week little girl). Says my results are all normal and I can go home.
Seriously.
They also told me that if you are in distress, I will feel you moving a lot more than normal. If anything changes, I should come back.
We are discharged, get our money back, have to wait an hr for he hospital to open again ( by then it had closed for "nap") so that we can buy insulin. My blood sugar is crashing bc I haven't eaten in 7 hours. I stuff chocolate into my mouth and drink your dads tea and tears are running down my face and he just keeps kissing my head and telling me I'm doing a great job and how much he loves me and that he knows you'll be ok and in that moment I'm so thankful for him.

We come home. I go straight to bed. We were going to
Have a baby shower today. The house looks lovely, but we had to
Cancel. I'm feeling heart broken and unsure of how you are faring. Tugged in so many directions and untrusting of any doctor I have seen In the last 9 months. I feel criticized by them and unhelped. I can't sleep so I take a bath, and you start moving like crazy. It lasts for hours. Should I just enjoy this, or should I worry?
Meanwhile everyone wants to know what's going on, because they love you and they love your mommy and daddy. I just want to sleep. I cry a lot. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel better.