Noo, I don't want to, I'm not ready to loose her... that's what I said to my delivery nurse Jen, when she told me it was time to push.
I was exhausted beyond anything I've experienced. 40 hours of labor later, I had to push. Once I got over the extreme fear of the unknown I got my shit together and started to relax into motherhood. My body switched into this zone of extreme focus.
I was ready to see her, I needed to just see her face. Even if it ment saying goodbye now. I wanted to see my daughter. Each ultrasound she covered her face. Every. Single. Time. And lemme tell you, I had an astonishing number of ultrasounds. They monitored her head size to make sure it didn't get to big to deliver. I knew just about everyone that worked in that high risk pregnancy center by the time it was delivery time. Each time they'd try to get her to show her face but, surprise, surprise my daughter made her own rules.
They told me she would look like a "normal" baby, her head just might be "a little bigger." But, nothing about her was normal...
I pushed her out in no time. I entered this somewhat primal zone and knew what my body needed to get this baby earthside. By pushing time my best friend had to leave within 45 minutes to catch her rescheduled flight. I pushed for thirty minutes, with breaks for readjustment. And then...she came out and I'll never forget that moment.
Not for the beautiful moment you'd think. Right as she entered earthside I looked at my doctor and I saw him turn his head to my delivery nurse his eyes dropped and he slightly shook his head side to side. The most defeated headshake I'll hopefully ever see in my life. In that moment, my heart literally was crushed. I grabbed my baby girl and yelled "that's my baby" like, everyone didn't just see her exit my body. I looked at her and realized she looked dead. She was limp in my hands and the deepest purple color. I looked at the doctor and asked, "is she going to die?" They told me she had a heartbeat but, wasn't breathing. Immediately my best friend started trying to play All Of Me. They couldn't get the music to play correctly so she said to me to "Heather, why don't you just sing to her." I swallowed huge sobs and started to sing to my limp baby. Over and over again I sang and rocked her, all while apparently my placenta and after birth came out of me. I don't even remember it. I just remember looking Her, singing to Her, my Girl, my Fighter, Adalynne Marcella. I sang to her for about 10 minutes, I'd stop and ask if she was dying, they gave me the same answer each time.
Then, she cooed with me to the song. Every atom of my vessel shook, my soul was awakened in that instance. She took another breath, and then another. I don't really remember exactly what all happened after but, she settled some. Everyone was literally blown away with the miracle that is Adalynne Marcella, the noble, beautiful, young warrior.
Soon after, my best friend nearly promoted, God mother to my daughter got to hold her for a moment before she had to quickly leave for the airport. I moment I'll cherish to the end of my days. Then, the rest of my family came into meet her and my dad left to go get my brothers. Adalynne still was having issues breathing and we were told we had about two hours left with her.
Remember how I mentioned I met with the head of the NICU? In our meetings I made sure everyone would know my rules. 1. She was to stay with me at all times. No nurses took her to do any weight or length or medical procedures until, I let them. 2. Comfort Care. No invasive procedures or action was to be taken. I wanted her short life to be pain free and full of love. That was my ultimate goal.
Instead of tubes, we tried morphine. The morphine worked wonderfully. She started morphine at 2 hours old and took it until the day she died. It calmed her body down to be able to breath and relax.
Once my brothers got there, ugh my heart was broken, I think beyond repair. There is something about seeing your entire family sobbing over this creation of yours that breaks you to the core. I felt like I was totally numb inside. As the day went on, we got photos of her with everyone, cherishing our seconds, minutes and, hours together. All astonished at how stunning she was.
She began having seizures at one point and, I just knew what to do. Like, all my life I had spent training for this job. Lots of her life I felt that way, I just knew what she needed. We got through the rest of the day, had lots of visitors. We all gazed at her and we're blown away by her beauty. She was so freaking beautiful for a newborn.
About midnight my aunt arrived after a long trip from Florida. I was so excited to see her and happy she would get to meet my cute creation. Right after my aunt arrived and was holding Adalynne ,she started turning blue. She had done this a few times by now but, each time sent a soul shattering fear through each person's body. With a little bit of stimulation she started back up.
The next day is mostly a blur to me of blood and fear. Yay for womanhood. I didn't want to leave the room to shower, or sleep whatsoever. The fear of something happening while I was away was burned into my mind. At some point the nurse came to get us for her MRI. I was so scared, she would die any moment that a simple stroll down a few hallways petrified me. Luckily, I had some amazing nurses who, pushed me in a wheelchair next to her little bassinet. The hospital apparently has a rule I can't hold my baby in a wheelchair.
Watching your 1 day old baby have a MRI is.. for lack of better words- bloody fucking hell. I was able to sit in the room with her while it went on and, I sobbed the whole dang time. It is one of the worst feelings, sitting there unable to help your child. This scan wouldn't heal her, only tell us how severe it was.
Another vivid memory I have was having my delivery nurse Jen come back to see us on the mother baby floor. She told me something I'll never forget. "Watching you breathe life into your child was The moment of my career." Her and my other nurse told me they'd never seen anything like that before and we're truly in awe of us. I wish I could find them and tell them thank you for all they did for us and, most importantly believing in me.
I morphed into a superhuman that day, I became a warrior myself. I didn't realize until later I think but, looking back I recognize it. She will always be the true warrior that sparked it all and I'm so incredibly thankful to be her mommy.
Words will never fully express the true miracle that happened July 10th 2014 except.... Adalynne Marcella, The Noble, Beautiful, young Warrior. May her light shine forever.
So much love to you beautiful souls tonight.
Thank you reading.
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