A Momma Torn!

My surgery was a little before 7:00 in the morning.  Everyone that was there for the birth had gone home for the night, and anyone that was coming to visit us on Saturday hadn't arrived yet.  That left Jason all by himself, not knowing whether his wife would make it or not.  The only thing he knew to do during the surgery (besides pray) was to go be with Lynley.  He told me that he stayed with her for a little bit and talked to her about the situation.  Of course he knew she couldn't talk back, but he told me that being with her made him feel close to me.  He told her how much I loved her, and how he hoped I'd be there to hold her soon.  To say that he was scared would be an understatement.

I came out of the surgery just fine...Praise the Lord!  I can't say that I was the most comfortable I had ever been in my life after just giving birth and enduring surgery, but I sure did feel better than I had just hours ago.  As soon as I was alert enough to know what was going on, I wanted to see my baby....my precious, perfect baby!  It absolutely stunk that she was not in the room with me so that I could put my arms around her anytime I wanted (which was ALL the time).  When we got the go ahead that I was well enough to be wheeled down to her, we went.  The first time I saw her in the NICU nearly broke my heart.  Not because she looked bad, but it just isn't how you want to see your newborn baby.  She had several wires going to her for monitoring and she was on oxygen.  I didn't care about any of that....I just wanted to hold her close.  The wires made it pretty difficult, but, rest assured, I got really good at it.  With the exception of the middle of the night, if the NICU was open, we were there.  The hardest part of this time (and there were many hard parts) was being torn between my two children.  It's just not natural to have to choose between them.  I absolutely know that Harrison was WELL taken care of (if not spoiled), but it stinks being an hour away!  I loved spending time with Lynley, but I was now the mother of TWO (not just one). 

I was released from the hospital the following Wednesday.  To be released without your newborn hurts! My parents brought Harrison down and, for next two nights, we stayed at a hotel close to the hospital.  I loved having Harrison down with us.  He loved the indoor swimming pool, and I cherished everything I usually take for granted like his constant hugs, laying with him at naptime, tucking him into bed at night, and just hearing his voice.  He definitely didn't understand all that was going on, but, just like all kids, he was resilient. I was able to spend time with both of my children for those two days (although not at the same time).  It didn't feel natural, but felt better than being miles away from one of them.

We also had friends and family constantly come and visit which helped so much as I was one breath away from crying at any given moment.  As all good things do, our two days with Harrison had to come to an end.  We were fortunate enough to get a room at The Centennial Lodge (which is a small hotel-like place) connected to the hospital.  That way, we were near Lynley and it didn't cost nearly as much as a hotel.  We were glad to be there (as happy as we could be under the circumstances), but sending Harrison home was heart wrenching! 

We stayed day after day with really no word as to when this NICU nightmare would end.  She had the heart defect which affected her oxygen.  She also underwent test after test after test...bless her little heart.  Compared to the other babies there, Lynley could have won the "Healthiest Baby Award."  I absolutely lived for every moment I could hold her, feed her, sing to her, etc.  Each time I would wake in the middle of the night, I would call and check on her.  As time drew on, we wondered what was really keeping us here?  To get an answer to that question proved extremely hard!!!!!!  Yes, we knew her heart was struggling but they weren't going to do anything to fix that now.  After several very long days, we finally got somewhat of an answer.  Since the heart affects her oxygen flow, then to go home she had to stay at 90 or above for three days.  For poor Lynley, that was never going to happen.  She would have occasional "dips" in her oxygen but was always able to bring it right back up.  Although it was good to be able to bring it back up, each time she had a "dip", the three day count would start over.  At this rate, we'd still be here until her surgery months later!!!!  She would go a day or two with no "dips" and then she would have one.  And so it went!  Thankfully, a nurse went on our behalf to the doctor to explain that Lynley's oxygen level would simply never stay at 90 or above until her heart was fixed (and she was too young and small for that yet).  She pleaded that she would be fine to go home because she was able to bring it back up quickly on her own.  So, thanks to Nurse Jane, we found out we were going home the following day.  Elated is not a big enough word to describe us at that point! 

The night before you leave the NICU, families go to the "Family Room" attached to the NICU.  You have your baby all to yourself but with monitoring by the medical staff.  Finally, I was able to hold my baby and take care of her all on my own.  She still had a few wires attached, but it was pure heaven.  Did I mention that she was adorable????  We were one step closer to having our family together again!  Our WHOLE family!  Under one roof!  We were simply exhausted, but were so ready to break out of prison!!!!

At about 3:00 the following day, the moment we dreamed of arrived.  We were not taking home a perfectly healed baby, but we were taking home OUR baby...one of God's most precious gifts!

Going Home!

Let our new journey begin......

The Moment of Truth...Our Lynley's Birth

I'd love to say that, after the tumultuous pregnancy we had had, the birth was uneventful.  I simply can't say that!  It was FAR from uneventful...

As I mentioned, my regular OBGYN was not in town for this birth.  That in itself made the night uneasy.  I needed familiarity, and he was supposed to be there for the scheduled induction the following Friday.  Our sweet Lynley wasn't about to wait until then.  She was ready to make her entrance into this world now.

Let's just say that after the epidural fiasco during Harrison's birth, I was beyond nervous about effect of this one.  They made me wait a LONG and PAINFUL hour before they gave me one.  Even after the epidural, I was ONCE AGAIN in major pain.  One side of my body (the opposite side than with Harrison) went a little numb, but I had full feeling in the other side.  I also felt a lot of pressure and wanted to push, but trying to convince someone that the epidural didn't work fully and that I thought I was ready to deliver was about as fruitful as the last time I tried it.  At this point in time, you'd think your husband would be your biggest supporter, but that would be other people's husbands....not mine.  When a medical professional says something, then that's the law.  Bear in mind that I'M the one about to birth this child!!!!!  God love him!!!! 

After giving me the epidural, they asked me to wait 20 minutes to feel the effect and they would check me again at that point.  I tried to convince ANYONE I could that I was about to deliver this baby.  Here's where my husband lost his candidacy for "husband of the year."  When I tried to tell him that I was still in mucho pain and that this baby was coming, like it or not, he told me (lovingly, of course) to "put my legs together and wait 20 minutes like the nurse said."  Had it not been for some friends in the room who actually believed I wasn't kidding and got the nurses ASAP, I would have delivered that baby right then and there without medical care.  Miss Lynley Morgan Pierce came at 12:47 A.M. (before the 20 minutes were up, by the way).

The birth was painful (that's all I'll say), but a few minutes later, I was holding perfection in my arms.  She stole her mommy's heart at that minute and she's had it ever since.  She did have a heart defect and Down's Syndrome, but she was absolutely perfect.

I got to hold her all of about 15 minutes before they wisked her away for tests and monitoring.   They took her to the NICU which I have nicknamed, "prison" (because it takes MANY heartfelt appeals to get out of that place).  I ached to hold that baby and to have her in the room with me.  I felt like they had ripped that baby out of me and taken her away.  I needed to talk to her and comfort her.  That's my job as her mommy.  Instead, she was floors and a half of the hospital away from me!

As the night wore on, my pain became absolutely unbearable.  Of course, after delivery, you expect to be in pain, but this pain was more than I could take (and I consider myself pretty tolerable of pain).  I know only having one prior birth under my belt hardly qualifies me as an expert, but I KNEW something was seriously wrong here.  When I began biting the bedpost (I'm NOT kidding) from extreme pain, the doctor (not mine, remember) came in the room and ordered morphine for me after they had tried various other things.  As they pumped 12 FULL doses in me in about 10 minute segments and there was NO relief, my husband and I got extremely worried.  The doctor told me that I should feel better shortly, because he gave me enough morphine to "kill a horse."  Really?  They kept checking me for all sorts of things, but no one could give a reason for the pain.  Panic set in on Jason (I would reconsider him for husband of the year now) and he had a nice, firm, come to Jesus talk with the doctor. I wasn't in on it, but it proved effective.  They checked me one more time, and within minutes, a swarm of nurses came flooding into my room to prep me for emergency surgery.  They had found a hematoma.  The only thing I remember after that point is my husband squeezing me with all his might and love and my short conversation with a nurse.  I asked her if I was going to be okay.  She looked at another nurse and asked her how to respond to my question because she wasn't sure I would make it.  I cannot put into words my feelings at that point.  I was in pain, away from BOTH of my precious children, and this may be my last few breaths on this earth....

  



 


 


 



 


 

 

Drawing Near

There were ups and downs with each doctor's appointment.  Some were positive as it looked like the hole in her heart was shrinking.  They told us there was a chance (not a big one, but a chance) that the hole would close up on its own either before birth or during her first year.  She was growing at a little below normal rate.  All of that was encouraging and something to cling to.  Then, there were the not-so-positive appointments where her hole was as dominant as ever, and her femur and arm bones were shorter than normal (one of the signs of Down's Syndrome). With each appointment, I tried to take them at face value.  There was really no way of knowing the reality of the situation until she arrived.  That was hard!  It is easier to deal with things when you have all of the facts, but, when it is all a guessing game, you have nothing concrete to hold on to.  I loved this little girl.  I believed in the beautiful life of this little girl.  I was going to be her number one fan, no matter what.  That was what kept me going each day. 

I have to be truthful.  I wasn't ready for her birth.  I knew as soon as she was born, our lives would change forever.  I didn't think I was ready for that.  As long as she was "in the oven," I could believe that everything was just fine, and that's what I did.  I spent each day praying fervently that God would completely heal my baby.   I didn't just sort of believe it....I believed it with my COMPLETE being (heart, soul, mind, and strength).  It may sound silly or like I was trying to avoid the truth, but healing was possible.  Yes, I knew that I could be setting myself up for a great fall once she came into this world, but this is how I had cope.  I dreamed of the moment after her birth when the doctor told me that my baby was perfectly healthy in every way!  There is absolutely nothing wrong with heart patients or individuals with Down's Syndrome.  That's just not what I wanted.  I know that sounds very selfish and harsh, but it's real, friends!  If that's the path chosen for me, then I would deal with it at the birth.  Until then, I was going to believe, believe, believe....

My last day teaching was the day we got out for Christmas break. I had a little less than a month before the due date.  That would give me a little rest time (if that is possible with a five year old) before being the mother of two.  I enjoyed taking Harrison to preschool and picking him up.  Those are mommy luxuries that I missed while teaching.  I was able to do the final details to prepare for Lynley's arrival.  I was scheduled for an induction on Friday, January 26, 2012 (one week before my due date).

On January 19, 2012, I had just cooked dinner (country style ribs, mashed potatoes, and macaroni and cheese...how's that for a good memory) when Jason got home.  He was actually out looking at new vans.  We knew we were going to need more space, so we were looking to get a van. (I actually NEVER thought I would be a mini van mom, but it was looking that way.) We sat down to a normal dinner and everything was as it was every night.  As pregnant women do often, I had to go to the bathroom.  It was then and there that my water broke.  Don't worry...I'm not going to share details other than to say that, since I had never experienced this part on my own, I had to figure out what was going on.  Just saying...

We got the care in place for Harrison and we were on our way to Birmingham to have Lynley Morgan Pierce, the angel that was about to enter this world.  I wish I could describe in words what is was like to have contractions (which is painful) while praying with every fiber of my being that my husband (God love him) would not kill us in his pursuit of getting to Birmingham in record time.  I haven't officially checked the record on that, but I'm pretty sure we broke it.  Can I say East Gadsden to Birmingham in 37 minutes?  Dear Gussey!!

When we arrived in one piece, I was thankful, but also in tremendous pain.  The birth was coming and my regular doctor was out of town...

The Not-So-Welcome Distraction

Even though we had gotten the news that our unborn baby should make it, it is still very hard to forget the possibilities you've been told.  You can't just hear from a doctor that your baby could die and then forget it immediately.  I lived in fear for this baby.  I was pretty much scared of what was going to happen, what could happen, and what probably wouldn't happen.  This mommy was scared....period!

After hearing the news and giving myself several days to process it, I decided it was time to go back to work.  It was an extremely hard day for me.  Even though I was dying inside, I had a class full of students who needed me, and I was determined to be the best I could for them.  I have wonderful coworkers.  They assured me that if things got too rough, they would cover for me at any time...no questions asked!  I took everything within me to get through the first few days back, but, with God's help and A LOT of prayers, I made it.  I would love to say that each day got easier, but it's just not true.  I'm sad to say that I learned how to "fake" happiness at times.  I had a smile on my face, but inside I was hurting!  That may sound dramatic, but my world was truly turned upside down.  I know that the diagnosis was not the end of the world, but, at times, it seemed like it.  It's just not the dream I had for my life (just being real).

On Wednesday of the very next week, as if the previous week wasn't bad enough, I woke up with a terribly, horrible pain in my side.  To say that it scared us to death would be an understatement.  Of course, we called the doctor as soon as they opened and they told us to come to the office immediately.  After bloodwork, ultrasound, and exam, I was told that my baby was fine (thank goodness) but that I had KIDNEY STONES!  Are you kidding me?  I just could not catch a break...at all!  In a few days, hopefully they would be gone.  I went home and began drinking more water than any human being should EVER have to drink (and I like water).  Maybe if I didn't float away first , they would be gone in a short time.  Thankfully, in a little over two days, the pain subsided.  I'm kind of thinking that God allowed the kidney stones to take my mind off of the "situation" for the time being!  Not exactly how I would have preferred to be distracted!!!!!

At each doctor's appointment, an ultrasound was done.  I guess that was one bright light in the darkness.  We got to see our sweet thing each time we went.  I brought a lot of anxiety and fear with each appointment.  What else would they find?  Would things get worse?  At our very next appointment one week later, our girl did something remarkable....

Yes...that is a sonogram picture of our girl giving us the "thumbs up" sign to let us know everything is going to be alright!  Wow...already an encourager!  I have to say that this lifted my spirits.  It's the little things.

I was still anxious over the situation and got nervous with each doctor's appointment, but I was praying (like I had never prayed before) for healing.

Will I Ever Smile Again?

The next few days were a complete blur. I NEVER dreamed, after all we had been through with infertility and IVF, that I would be HOPING that my sweet, unborn baby had Down's Syndrome.  If that doctor was right, that is the only option that would allow my baby girl to live.  There was about a 2 in 3 chance that we would get a phone call informing us that this baby, that we hoped for, prayed for, and loved deeply, would not live to meet us.  That, my friends, is TOTAL despair.  This is not the dream you have growing up, and I went through every emotion possible!  I was angry that we had paid money for this.  I know that sounds harsh, but I'm just being totally real.  I was hurt watching watching happy families with healthy children go on living their lives.  I was sad, because this was our new reality.  This was our life...like it or not.  Would a true smile ever cross my face again?  I called out through sleepless nights (I mean NO sleep whatsoever for days) to God to save this precious girl.  My full time job for the next few days was finding the strength to put one foot in front of the other, and, only by God's grace did that happen!  That's not what I wanted to do.  I would have fully chosen to dig a hole in my backyard and bury myself in it.  That seemed so much easier than facing this reality over and over throughout the day.  I am thankful (SO thankful) that for these few days of misery, I had a bright-eyed, healthy, precious son to keep me going.  Had it not been for him, I'm afraid the hole in my backyard would have happened.

Needless to say, I took the rest of the week off from teaching.  There was no way I could face people at all. I did my absolute best to function and be a mommy the best I could under the circumstances.  Jason and I talked about things very little over that 48 hours.   I think we both needed time to process everything (not that I think it is ever fully "processable").  Like me, he did his best to make it through each day. 

I had made my mind up that, when the inevitable phone call came from the doctor, I would not be the one to answer it.  For one thing, I might say something that I regretted for putting me through this misery, and, also, I just couldn't handle it!

The phone call came a little after 3:00 on that Friday afternoon.  As soon as Jason answered it, I left the room.  I didn't even want to hear his end of the conversation.  I did, however, hear him hang up and head in my direction.  He grabbed my hands (Oh, no!) and told me that the preliminary tests showed that our baby had Down's Syndrome with a pretty severe heart defect (that we would know more about through time).  There it was...THE news!  I remember very little, but I do remember falling to my knees sobbing!  On one hand, I was relieved that, more than likely, my baby girl would make it.  On the other hand, she wasn't fine.  She had huge obstacles to overcome in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead.  As a mommy, you want to "fix" everything when it comes to your child.  You would gladly take on any pain if it meant the pain would be taken from them.  This was something I could not fix....not the Down's Syndrome and not the heart defect. 

Jason and I handle things VERY differently (and for those of you who know us, you KNOW that's true).  At the moment we got the news, he was very black and white about things.  He was ready, right then and there, to find out what we needed to do with little emotion involved.  I, on the other hand, made a decision that week to believe.  It's what I needed to survive.  I was ready to believe (with all my heart you will find out) that my baby was FINE or could be totally healed in the next four months.  I don't consider it living in the clouds (as Jason sometimes called it).  It was what I could do for this precious baby.  Someone had to believe FULLY in her, and who better to do that than her mommy?  I didn't forget (or ignore) the news we were delivered, but I needed to believe...which became my full time job!

A Day I will NEVER forget (but would like to)...

Disclaimer....Before I even start this post, I want to say that one of the hardest things I have ever had to do is write this as it makes me remember every part of the day that changed our lives forever.  It is written as a human mommy with human feelings and emotions....

We only told a very few people about our appointment with the Maternal Fetal Medicine clinic.  After all, there was only a 10% chance that something was "wrong", so why alert the media?  It was a long 48 hour wait to get to the appointment, not necessarily because we were scared, but because we were just waiting to finally hear the all clear report and celebrate this little girl we had prayed forever for.  Unfortunately, we never got that all clear...

As we sat in the waiting room, we did our best to be upbeat.  Thankfully, we didn't have to wait long.  They called us back to this pretty dark room (that ought to have been a sign) with a machine much larger than any I had ever seen.  When they said they would be doing a very detailed ultrasound, I believed them.  As I laid there waiting to begin, I couldn't help but think that a place like this would be perfect for the next Lifetime movie.  The extremely friendly (to begin with) nurse ultrasound technician began by looking at our baby girl part at a time.  There is no body part that was not covered in this ultrasound.  Since I had gotten pretty good at reading an ultrasound technician's facial expressions through the years, I did my best to try to read her.  She was very informative at first, showing us her pretty head, eyes, nose, mouth, etc... The longer the ultrasound lasted, the less friendly and informative the nurse became.  I tried to remain as positive as I could, but she just wasn't telling us anything.  She moved on to our sweet girl's middle section and lower section and that horrible, nagging feeling came back.  After about 45 minutes, the ultrasound was complete. She told us the doctor would read all the information, look at all the pictures, and would be in to talk to us "in a little bit."  In totally me character, I asked her if everything was okay.  She informed us that she couldn't give us any information other than our girl did not have cleft palette.  Alrighty, then.  Thanks for your wealth of knowledge and for calming my nerves completely!!!! So, the wait began.  Our lives were about to be forever changed....

Throughout this time, I'm not sure if Jason ever let go of my hand...God love him!  I'm thankful that the hand that was holding me right now was the hand of a husband who would be there through thick and thin.  I was about to need him by my side like I never had before.

The doctor came in.  I know he doesn't have the easiest of jobs.  More often than not, he has to deliver devastating news.  It was very apparent that he had become cold and numb to human feelings.  Over the next few minutes he told us what no parent should EVER have to hear.  Three things were possible for our unborn baby...1) She would die in the next few weeks from a chromosomal defect; 2) She would die at birth due to a chromosomal defect; or 3) She would have Down's Syndrome.  He told us he couldn't be sure until an amniocentesis was performed.  Before they could do that, they needed our permission and they needed to do it immediately.  My head was completely spinning.  Not only did they just deliver us news I truly needed to process, they wanted me to do a spur-of-the-moment amnio???? Had I been in my right frame of mind, I would have never allowed them to do the procedure.  I think we were willing to do AYTHING to get out of there.  I found out as they were performing the amnio, that, not only would it be painful (and it was), but there was a risk to my baby, too.  Really?  You have just delivered horrible news and now you want to potentially harm my baby?  Like I said, I was not thinking clearly, so they did the test.  It was awful, but the devastated look on my husband's face during it all was more than I could take. I lost it COMPLETELY!

After the procedure, he wanted to talk to us a little more.  He told us that he would call us within 48 hours to tell us which of the three options we were dealing with. Also, he informed us that our baby girl had a pretty bad heart defect that could possibly be fatal.  If our baby lived (and he made sure we understood that that was a BIG if), we would be facing open heart surgery.  The day just kept getting darker and darker. Then, he asked us if someone had mentioned doing a chromosomal test at the beginning of the pregnancy.  We told him that it had been mentioned to us, but that we declined.  As if up until now had not been enough, he informed us that, if we had had that test weeks ago, we could have gotten rid of this baby.  It was at this point that I told the man to quit talking and that we were going home.  It was either that, or strike him in the face with all the force this mommy could muster. The second option seemed like a REALLY good idea, but I restrained.  All I needed on top of all this was a mugshot and jail sentence (even though the news felt like one).

I honestly do not remember leaving that building, but I do remember our drive home.  I have never seen my husband fall apart like I saw then.  We were both screaming and sobbing uncontrollably, and how we got safely home is only by the grace of God.  There was a very good chance we were going to lose this precious gift, and I just couldn't bear the thought of that.  No parent should have to hear that their baby, whom they prayed fervently for, would probably not live.

The next 48 hours were the most painful of my ENTIRE life (and that is not an exaggeration).  For two days, two loving parents were going to be staring at a scary reality...