“You dodged a bullet on that one!” the Obstetrician said as he entered the room. He had just reviewed my 30-week ultrasound checking the status of my placenta previa. “Our rule of thumb is the placenta needs to be 2 centimeters away from the cervix for a vaginal delivery. Yours measured 2.1 centimeters.” Continue reading
“Why don’t we choose her name?” David said after we came home from the ultrasound. He knew I needed to focus on the happy news of carrying a girl, instead of her risky situation. We pulled our original lists from two years prior, printed more lists from online, and sat down at the kitchen table together. After awhile, we decided “Lily” was still our favorite. Continue reading
“Have you had any bleeding?” the sonographer asked.
This doesn’t sound good, I thought. It was my 20-week ultrasound, and my husband, sister Heidi and I had just learned I was carrying a girl. My first daughter!
“No,” I said. “Why?” Continue reading
It was 4:00 AM and the OB doctor-on-call yawned as I pushed out the baby. David and I had decided to wait to find out the gender (which meant we had lots of rubber-ducky baby clothes), and after a short time the doctor announced, “It’s a boy!” Continue reading
David said he could see it on my face — that I looked hopeless. The last several hours of strong labor had produced no progress, and my cervix (baby’s exit door) was thickening back up. For the first time, I started considering pain relief. I was doing my best to cope and it wasn’t enough. Continue reading
“You’re stalling out on us, Julie,” the OB doctor-on-call said when she arrived. “Why don’t you labor in the tub a bit more? Maybe things will pick up.” I labored in the tub awhile, but didn’t enjoy it any more than the first time, and eventually laid back down. Continue reading
This is the second post in a series on how God has changed me through the ups and downs of pregnancy, childbirth, and miscarriage. (Read the first post here.)
Before heading to the hospital, I took some time to put on my make-up and fix my hair. I’d remembered seeing pictures of my beautiful mother after her first childbirth, and didn’t want to look as awful as she had (sorry Mom!) for my hospital pictures . . . Continue reading