My sweet Lola, this is the story of the beginning of you.
My pregnancy with you was so different than my pregnancy with Rosie. Before you were even conceived, I would always talk about future children as "the girls." Once i was pregnant though, I became convinced that you were a boy. What a happy surprise it was to find out I was wrong! We found out at 19 weeks that you were a "sister-baby," as Rosie calls you. We Face Timed your grandparents with some "happy news." We'd paid off Dad's student loan that day and thought it would be funny to make the grandparents think we were calling with pregnancy news, then tell them we were debt-free and see their reactions...and then tell them that, "Oh yeah, and we're having a baby girl in July." It was a success! Both sets of grandparents were shocked and ecstatic!
Near the end of my pregnancy, I began to feel concerned about your position. Each night, I would lie awake for hours in intense pain. I couldn't get comfortable, and I couldn't get you to stop kicking. I thought that something felt off. At about 32 weeks, my midwife confirmed that you were still front-facing, or "sunny-side up," and that that was why I was in so much pain. She told me about some stretches and (upside-down) yoga poses I could try doing each night to encourage you to flip over. I stretched and I stretched, and I stretched some more. But there was no relief.
At 38 weeks, I was dilated to a 1 and slightly effaced. Yay! Good news, I thought. At 39 weeks, I was dilated to 1.5 and slightly effaced...not what I was hoping to hear. The last weeks of pregnancy stretched on and on. I was so impatient!
"False labor" began about a week before you were born. I'd be up half the night with consistent contractions that would eventually taper off. I'd sleep for about 3 hours and then Rosie would come in and get me out of bed. This happened every other day leading up to your birth. It was frustrating and discouraging, but now I know it wasn't really "false" labor, it was more likely the beginnings of labor and very likely its what led to such a short labor and delivery.
I was up most of the night with contractions the night before you were born. I eventually fell asleep, and awoke to a normal Sunday morning. I decided that I would go to church, because I knew I'd be taking a couple of Sundays off after you were born, and I didn't want to miss too many weeks. Sacrament meeting passed, and my contractions weren't too bad, and they were 12 minutes apart. In Sunday school, they were still 12 minutes apart, but it was getting harder for me to breathe normally and I felt like I might be in labor. I was still in a little bit of disbelief because of all of the false labor the week before. We decided to leave after second hour. At home, we ate lunch and rested and Rosie napped. My contractions were getting closer together, about 8 minutes apart, when I decided to take a bath. They got down to 5 minutes apart while I bathed, and when I got out, I told Dad to call the babysitter for Rosie.
Just before 6pm, Layne Krey picked Rosie up and I kissed my only child goodbye for the last time. We called Kaiser, and the nurse said they were very busy and that I should call back at 7:30. I told Dad that he should shower and eat if he was hungry. Our bags had been packed for weeks. Dad got out of the shower, and I was lying on the floor moaning. Later he admitted that this really freaked him out because I had labored silently with Rosie and only made noise when she was actually coming out. It was about 6:30, and the nurse had said to call back at 7:30, but I knew we had to go. I hobbled to the car (grabbing a towel on the way out, just in case) while Dad grabbed our bags and called the hospital again to tell them we were coming in.
The drive to the hospital was a blur for me. I was in so much pain and I was trying not to push. Dad says he ran a few red lights, yikes! We got to the hospital at about 6:45, and I cant say why, but I insisted on walking up myself. I didn't want dad to drop me off at the front and then park the car, I wanted him to stay with me. That was romantic, but dumb. Once again, I hobbled up to the front of the hospital with Dad by my side, and a kind-but-terrified-looking man ran ahead of us and got a wheel chair for me. I'll never forget that.
Labor and Delivery is on the top floor, in the farthest corner of the Deer Valley Kaiser where you and Rosie were born. Dad put me in the elevator and we ascended to the top floor and then he rushed me down a very long hallway to meet our baby girl. We got to L&D and no one was there except for another terrified-looking man- a security guard. We stated the obvious ("she's having a baby!") and the security guard ran down the hall and got a nurse. She ushered us into triage and I got my hospital gown on, and then she checked to see how dilated I was. We could tell immediately that she was surprised at what she found. "Has your water broken yet?" she asked me. I told her that I thought it had leaked a little on the drive to the hospital (thank goodness I grabbed that towel on the way out the door). She got out her phone and dialed a midwife to come to triage immediately. The midwife arrived and I was happy to see that it was Julie Haymes, the midwife I'd seen for my entire pregnancy with Rosie and a woman I knew to be kind, but no-nonsense. She checked me and said, "You're at a 10 and this baby is coming." They raced me down the hall on the gurney with dad in tow (just like in the movies!) and put me in the first open delivery room. I climbed off the gurney onto the delivery bed and Julie told me my water was leaking and asked if she could rupture it so we could get the show on the road. Yes! As the sweet nurse tried to insert a PIC line into my arm, Julie broke my waters. As soon as that pressure was gone, I knew it was time to push. The nurse gave up on the PIC line and I told them I was ready to push and they said to go for it.
Two minutes later, you were in my arms. They told me I'd won "fastest delivery" of the night. It was 7:05pm on Sunday, July 26th, 2015. You were perfect in every way. (8 lbs, 4.6 oz, 20.5 inches!) I held you in my arms for a long time, just staring at you in disbelief. You were here! You were my baby! You looked so much like Rosie, and yet so much like your own person. That first night passed in a blur. Dad and I just kept laughing and saying, "two minutes!"
That night and the next day, you were seen by three separate pediatricians who all expressed concern over your left hip. There was a lot of talk about hip dysplasia and we were given some paperwork and an appointment with a pediatric orthopedist was scheduled for a week later in Oakland. Since then, we've seen quite a few doctors, and it was just determined that you'll wear a brace for about 10 hours a day for the next 3 months to hopefully encourage your little leg to stay in the socket. Yours is a mild case, and this will hopefully be the only treatment you'll need.
The two months that have passed since you were born have been hard and wonderful and sweet and exhausting, and I wouldn't change a minute of it. You and Rosie are the cutest little sisters. You smile every time shes within sight, and she can't get enough of you. She calls you "cutie baby" and that's exactly what you are. You're delightful. You coo and sing with daddy, you smile and giggle with me, you beam at Rosie. You like being outside and we often lie on a blanket in the grass while Rosie plays in her sandbox. You're easygoing and a good eater and sleeper. You love to snuggle and you love kisses and looking at yourself in the mirror. You sleep every time you're in a moving vehicle (hallelujah!) and we just couldn't love you more. Before you were born, Dad and I would often talk about what it'd be like once you were here. We couldn't fathom how our hearts could grow to make room for you, but could only picture our love being divided between our two girls. How wrong we were and how grateful I am for that! Our hearts grew, and our love for you is endless and eternal.
I can't wait for all your life will entail. I can't wait to watch you grow and learn. You are beautiful, lovely and bright. I love you so much, my sweet Lola Adelie. I knew you long before you were born, in a pre-existence I can only imagine. We were dear friends then, and we will be dear friends in this mortal life as well. I waited all my life for you, my darling girl. Thank you for letting me be your mother. I love you.
Meeting Lola
