This is Chapter 8 in the Infertility Memoir. Read previous chapters here.
As we woke up the morning after the tornado tore through our area we began to realize the extent of its wrath. We were still without power and beginning to worry about all the food in the refrigerator, including a few frozen meals we had already prepped for when our daughter was born. That morning I also had my 38 week appointment, and thankfully their office was open and unaffected by the tornado, but they warned us that some roads nearby were closed as emergency crews were still working.
Venturing out of our house it appeared to be undamaged, and we discovered that we had many huge branches fall, including one that barely missed the roof and bedroom windows. As we drove down our street we saw debris that didn’t match any of the nearby homes, trees were snapped in half, and some homes had their siding ripped off. During our 10-minute drive, we saw how devastating the tornado had been to other parts of our town and neighboring towns. Homes, apartment buildings, and businesses were leveled and trees were uprooted. I remember feeling so incredibly lucky that we were able to stay out of its path of pure destruction.
Once we arrived at our doctor’s office it was a little chaotic inside, much like the world outside. We went through all the usuals at the appointment and my doctor reviewed my levels. She wasn’t thrilled with my numbers and I was already taking insulin for the gestational diabetes so she wanted to consult the doctor who was on duty at the hospital. They moved us to a different room while we waited; it was almost like a storage room — cold and unwelcoming, rather than an exam or waiting room. Honestly, I was grateful to be waiting there in the air conditioning, rather than in our hot, powerless house.
When the doctor finally returned, she explained that they wanted to induce me because of where my levels were and that I was far enough along that it was safe to do. This is going to sound so silly, but I was relieved. Relieved that I would be somewhere with electricity, relieved that I would soon be able to eat whatever I wanted without worrying about blood sugar levels, and oh so ready to meet my daughter. We were given a time to check in at the hospital and went home to grab our bags.
Once we arrived at the hospital at the time we were given we still had to wait almost two hours for a bed to be available. By the time we got to our room and settled in, the doctor from our office was heading off shift. At first, that made me a little uneasy not knowing who would be delivering our baby, but then again I feel like I’ve rarely seen the same doctor more than a handful of times. So I brushed it off, and focused on the task at hand, welcoming our daughter into this world after a journey we never expected. The medical team started all of the medications and after a few hours, it was time to move to the birthing suite. I elected to have an epidural because I wasn’t sure what to expect and wanted to not be focused on the pain. I was told when I was 15 and had my first kidney stone that they are more painful than labor, but I have had several over the years, and I didn’t want to chance being in any similar amount of pain.
Eventually, labor started to progress, more slowly than the doctors wanted, and they encouraged both of us to get some rest overnight. By 11 am the contractions were getting closer and closer. Excitement, joy, and a dash of fear started to flood my emotions. Would I be a good mother? Was I ready to be a mother? Would this be everything we dreamed it would be?
Then it was time to push, and I pushed for maybe 20-30 minutes, but our daughter’s head was stuck. The doctors tried to stretch my body, but still she wasn’t coming out. They finally had to do an episiotomy to enlarge my vaginal opening which I really didn’t want to happen. That meant stitches and a longer recovery time. But once they did that, I’m pretty sure she was out with one big push. Finally, our miracle was born, and in my arms. Tears of joy filled my eyes after years of struggling with infertility and recurrent miscarriages our daughter was born in June 2021.
But something was wrong. She was coughing, and it sounded like a wet cough. My brand new mama heart knew something was wrong. After what felt like forever of me trying to let the medical team know that there was something wrong they took my daughter over to the examination table. There was a lot of commotion as they worked on her, and she was whisked away while I delivered the placenta. Panic started to set in.
I wasn’t told much, and while in the moment I was frustrated I understand that they didn’t have any information to share. We later learned that my daughter had fluid in her lungs, that likely accumulated while her head was stuck during delivery. She was being taken to the NICU. My husband left to go be with our daughter, while I was being cared for. Those were some of the scariest moments of my life, and just days earlier we were experiencing a tornado. After the damage was evaluated, the path of the tornado appeared to go directly down our street. Instead of an EF-3 like most of the rest of its path, it was EF-1/EF-0 while it was passing over us. We were so incredibly lucky. But now I felt like we were paying the price, and I was scared that we could lose it all.
Once they stabilized her, and I was cleared to go see her we went to the NICU. It was so hard seeing her hooked up to all those wires and tubes knowing that we didn’t get to spend her first hours together. I was terrified to hold her. I was afraid I would pull something out, or do something that would hurt her. This wasn’t how this day was supposed to go; it was supposed to be full of joy, not fear. The NICU staff tried to ease our fears, and helped show us what we needed to do. They encouraged us to hold her, that holding her was extremely important, and good for her.
Slowly, we both got more comfortable and confident visiting her in the NICU and when it was time for me to be discharged and go home, that was the hardest thing in the world to do. I wasn’t supposed to be coming home from the hospital without her. But it was a blessing in disguise that she was in the NICU because we could have never imagined what we would be returning home to. While we were at the hospital our power returned earlier that day. Everything thing in our fridge and freezer was trash. And our kitchen ceiling was leaking, I mean, pouring water because another round of severe storms was wreaking havoc on the Chicago metro.
Bless my sweet husband because he took care of it all. I was recovering and was trying to pump milk to feed our daughter, which hadn’t fully come in yet. My emotions were fried at that point and nothing seemed to be going our way. Eventually, we got everything cleaned up, essentials bought, and nothing more because the movers were coming in a few weeks. My milk came in, and we figured out a new routine. The next morning we went to the NICU and our daughter was improving – we were told she may even get to go home the next day. I was so relieved and felt like we could soon enjoy this new chapter without fear.
After five excruciating days with our daughter in the NICU we were finally able to bring her home. We weren’t out of the woods yet because her bilirubin levels were still high, and they wanted to monitor her closely to ensure she was getting enough milk. The next day, which was a Saturday, we had to bring her back to the hospital to have her levels checked, which was an adventure. We started the day off with a flat tire, and then an extremely long wait at the hospital. Once we were back with the lab tech, she had a hard time getting our daughter to cooperate. To this day when I look at her little feet I can still see the scar from that blood draw on her heal.
She was improving, and healthy. That was all that mattered. We finally got our rainbow baby and our miracle. As we adjust to life as a family of three, our next move was quickly approaching. We knew our time at Fort Leavenworth would be short — my husband was selected for a 10-month resident school and that we wouldn’t be looking to try for a second child for at least a year. So we enjoyed our crazy lives as students, new parents, and I took on a larger volunteer role with RESOLVE’s Federal Advocacy Day. There was a sense of relief that we could take a break from our exhausting infertility journey for a short time, but we knew deep in our hearts our family wasn’t complete yet.