Shirley Rose – my birth story
It came as a massive surprise to many when we posted the birth of Shirley on our Instagram and Facebook feed. You see, we had not made any formal announcement that I was even pregnant. So there were people who literally had no idea I was pregnant.
Because we lost Gus, it was an extremely stressful pregnancy. I was monitored closely by maternal-fetal medicine, with ultrasounds every two weeks starting in my 3rd trimester: extra labs, extra OB appointments, and talk of induction. My dreams of ever going into labor naturally flew out the window.
After losing Gus, I had some mild PTSD and severe social anxiety. Being around people and navigating what they would say to me (or not say to me), was extremely challenging. With my growing tummy, it only further aggravated the situation. So I wore loose-fitting clothes, dresses that were one size too big, and prayed people wouldn’t notice. Not because I was ashamed. But because I didn’t want them to think I had moved on, or that Shirley was replacing Gus. I didn’t want them to question or judge our choice to have another child. And while the opinions of others shouldn’t matter, it did. And it made it easier to not publically make it known that I was pregnant until we had no other choice. Those close to us, friends and family knew and prayed for us daily. But otherwise, we kept things hush.
As we approached Shirley’s due date, my anxiety ramped up, and the urge to get her here picked up the pace. I checked the schedules of my midwives to see who was on call different days during the week they wanted to induce me(39). I scheduled my induction when I knew the midwife who delivered both Adelaide and Gus would be on call. November 27th.
On our way to the hospital that morning, it was brisk, and our hearts anxiously determined. We passed an Amish shop along the way that had a sign” Free subs if your name is Faith or John.” We laughed, because we never see my name on things like that, and kept driving.
We arrived at the hospital around 8 am, got checked in, and started with a pill called Cytotec around 11 am to “ripen the cervix.” Things began to progress. Contractions regularly came, though not very strong. They gave me the option of continuous monitoring or intermittent. I chose continuous. I needed to hear her heartbeat steadily coming.
I felt okay with how things were progressing, but a few hours later, while resting, a hoard of nurses rushed in and placed an oxygen mask on my face and began to fuss with my monitor. I had no idea what was happening until they informed me baby’s heartbeat had slowed down, but that it was back up now. They said it can occur when a baby grabs onto the cord or twists a funny way. They told me everything was fine and not to worry. But I did, and if you’ve had a baby, you know those monitors don’t sit well on your belly. And if you’ve lost a baby, you know how stressful having a baby after that loss is. They said they had a new wireless monitor that they’ve been starting to use and asked if I would be interested. Of course, I was. In normal circumstances, I would have wanted as little intervention as possible. Still, now, I needed to know she was safe.
They hooked me up the new monitor, and it was a total game-changer. I could get up, walk around, bounce on a birthing ball, eat, all while hearing the steady thumping of Shirley’s heartbeat. It was life-giving to my soul. One of our two doulas arrived. Jenny and Holly were with us throughout Gus’ labor delivery, so we didn’t hesitate to have them join our team in getting Shirley here. Being unsure of the day, we had Jenny come sooner rather than later. I am SO thankful for the strength and focus they brought to me that day.
We started the Pitocin that afternoon, and things began picking up. But by 7:30 pm, I was still only at about 4-5 centimeters. I was pretty bummed. The midwife asked if I would like her to break my water and felt convinced once that happened, things would move quickly. I joked that I wanted to get Shirley here before midnight. Not for any actual reason except I wanted to go into labor and have a baby on the same day for once(my labor with Adelaide was 47 hours long, and Gus was over 30 hours). And oh boy did things start to move.
The contractions came on with force and intensity. I now had to breathe and focus on getting through them mindfully. And within an hour or so, I was screaming through them. Unlike any pain I have ever experienced. Of course, I asked for an epidural at this point, but was told, it’s too late, you’re almost there, you can do this. I had epidurals with Gus and Adelaide, and both times, it made me very sick. In fact, my blood pressure dropped dangerously low, and with Gus, they turned it off altogether. So I was determined to go without one this time around until I went from 5-10 centimeters in just about 2-3 hours. I am so thankful for my doulas and Nathan for how they coached me through it and cheered me on, reminding me to focus and breathe. Women who calmly breathe through contractions in the late stages of labor amaze me. I am not one of those women.
Around 11, the midwife checked and asked if I wanted to push, which of course, I did! After everything was set up, I pushed about three times, and she was here! I wanted the pain to stop, and I knew getting her here would help the pain alleviate.
Now, what I didn’t mention is that I was the only laboring woman on the whole floor that day. So ALL (literally all) of the nurses excitedly rushed in when they heard we were going to start pushing. Only to be sorely disappointed when it only lasted 4 minutes.
Shirley was finally here, but the pediatrician looked concerned. She wasn’t crying very loudly, and she was somewhat rigid in her movements. They gave me some time skin to skin, and then took Shirley away and began to check her over. My heart sank, I felt like I was going to vomit, all the relief and exhaustion and joy replaced with complete terror. The doctor started asking me a string of questions, from were you on any medications, do you have any underlying health conditions, did you take any herbs, they went on and on. My chest constricted, and I resolved myself not to cry.
They said they were going to take her to the NICU and do a chest x-ray. After they took her away, my heart sank. There was a painful silence. No one wanted to say a word. We just sat and held our breath. After the longest 10 minutes of my life, the doctor came back and said they would be bringing her back to us, and she seemed fine and recovered before they even checked her in. I felt relief wash over me, and when they brought her back to me to try to nurse, she instantly latched on.
Unfortunately, though, my grief and the trauma made it extremely hard for me to bond with her. I felt like I should have this beautiful moment, where all felt right in the world, but I didn’t. I was relieved she was here, but it didn’t feel real. I felt like I was living outside of my body, watching things happen but feeling disconnected.
We stayed overnight, and we noticed Shirley was vomiting a lot. They said it wasn’t uncommon with baby’s who had been pushed out quickly. The pressure of pushing helps to get fluid out of their nose and ears, but when that pressure isn’t there, it can get it stuck, and it takes a while to work it’s way out. Shirley failed her first hearing test, and they also chalked it up to fluid in her ears. After passing her test the next morning, we were allowed to go home.
Of course, if you’ve been following along for a while, you will know that Shirley’s story hasn’t gotten easier. From extreme colic, a severe lip and tongue tie, and many many sleepless nights, to seizures and developmental delays, to a diagnosis of SCN8A we have gone from one challenge to the next.
But the beauty in her story is the way she and I bonded. It wasn’t a quick thing. In fact, the colic, screaming all day and all night, projectile vomiting on me every time I nursed her, made it difficult for me to bond with her. I cared for her because I had to, but I felt like I was continually failing her. Unable to be enough. It wasn’t until she had her first seizure that things shifted. I realized how precious she was to me and how my resentment was unfounded. I realized just how profound my love for her was, and I hate that it took me almost losing her to realize that.
I don’t say this for pity, but in hopes that some other new mama out there struggling with feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, and having trouble bonding with your new baby, can find encouragement. It’s okay. Give yourself lots of time. You aren’t crazy for not loving the newborn stage. There isn’t something wrong because you don’t feel “magic” when you meet your new baby – because what even is that anyway? The world proclaims that motherhood is a wonderous thing that “happens” and that the bond between you and your baby is instantaneous.
But that’s not reality. Everyone’s story is different and shaped by a loving God who knows what you need to grow in faithfulness. I needed Shirley. I needed Gus. And Lord knows I need Adelaide. All of these beautiful children are developing my understanding of faithfulness. They are growing my love for others and God. And they are sharpening my understanding of my desperate need for God. But more than that, they are teaching me what it means to long for glory.
Oh my sweet Shirley girl, what a year it’s been. How far you’ve come. How hard you have fought. And how beautiful your relentless joy is to all those who get to experience it. I thank God for you every moment of every day. You are one of my greatest gifts.
Photo credit:Blythe Photography