Lily Autumn Graham
Born 11/1/2016 at 12:03 pm
7 lbs 11 oz
18 ½ inches
I’ve waited two months to write Lily’s birth story, because I have
needed time to process it all. She is my last child. My last pregnancy. The
last time I get to feel the miracle of a baby moving inside me. The last chance
to experience what I always longed for, planned for, prepared for, dreamed for.
An unmedicated, calm, hypnobirth, where I felt powerful and in control of my
mind and my body. Hands that would hold and help me through the waves, rising
above any discomforts, being relaxed in my body and mind. Skin to skin
immediately after birth. Delayed cord clamping. An hour with no interventions,
just me and my precious baby to bond. I wanted to feel the rush of endorphins
you get when you’re able to feel your body deliver a baby. I wanted to be in
that group of women that had the opportunity to achieve this. I wanted to
believe that my body was capable. That I was inherently strong enough. I told myself
I can do hard things. What I discovered, was something I never expected. And it
has humbled me, healed me, cradled me, and shook me to my very core.
It was Halloween night. I was 39 weeks and 4 days pregnant. Very
ready for this little lady to come. My body was in constant pain due to
Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction, and I was stuck in a wheelchair most of the time.
I had planned and prepared, in body, mind and spirit for the birth of my last
child. I was able to have the most beautiful, spiritual, loving sisterhood
experience of my life; a Mother’s Blessing. I was surrounded by so many women
in my life who loved, supported, and held me through this pregnancy. I felt so
much support and strength, and I knew I would never be alone. It was a blessed
gift.
Here I am surrounded and touched as all these women laid their
hands on me and gave all their love, hope, wishes and blessings to me. I was
truly surrounded by angels.
Being a Hypnodoula, and attending 25 births I was already trained
in Hypnobirthing, but had taken Lauralyn’s class again, and practiced
religiously. I did a lot of visualizations, and hired and asked for the
people that I needed and wanted there to be present. I hired a birth
photographer and a birth videographer, as well as a doula, and invited my
mother and sister to be there to witness and support. I had a wonderful
midwife, and the most hypnobirthing-friendly hospital. I purchased and selected
items I knew I wanted in my birth space to help bring peace and calm. I printed
out beautiful birth affirmations that I wanted hung in my birth space. I even
had a “Hypnobirth in progress” sign I wanted hung on the hospital door. I
purchased some beautiful nursing gowns to deliver and wear while at the
hospital. I had a prenatal photo shoot done with the autumn leaves, because I
knew her middle name would be Autumn.
I knew exactly what I needed. I created my nest. My bags were packed, my mind was ready, and my body was tired.
I knew exactly what I needed. I created my nest. My bags were packed, my mind was ready, and my body was tired.
That night, I was able to go trick or treating with my kids by
borrowing a jazzy from my mom. It was such a gift to be able to experience that
with my children. I took a photo that night, not knowing if it would be the
last.
At about 3 am, I woke up to more water coming out of me than I
thought was humanly possible. I tapped Scott on the shoulder telling him. He
was just as surprised and shocked as me to see all that water. I was
immediately awake, and excited that this was finally happening. I decided to
jump in the shower and get ready, since I knew I wasn’t going back to sleep.
The surges started up pretty quickly, and by the time I finished my makeup I
knew we needed to get to the hospital quickly, even though I thought I would
labor at home longer.
Something was wrong. I was experiencing pain in my sacrum and
lower back, that was increasing with every surge, which was about every 90
seconds. We left for the hospital, and checked in fairly quickly. Things were
getting too intense too fast. I didn’t have a chance to get settled, to go to
that healing place in my mind. It was like I hit a cruel, shocking, and solid
brick wall. At this point, it is hard for me to recollect much of what happened.
I got into the tub, hoping that would bring some relief, but there
was none to be found. I remember thinking what was this? This was not labor. I felt no
sensations in my uterus, not a single contraction, just breaking, searing pain
in my sacrum. She was posterior. I'd never felt that before. I was prepared for
uterine pain, for normal labor. I could do that. I knew how to handle that. To
relax through it. But this wasn't normal labor. Was this labor? What was this
horrible experience that held no joy? So fast, hard. Excruciating pain. Back
labor that felt as though my sacrum was being torn apart. Delusional pain.
Level 10. Nothing helping. No technique, no script, no touch, that helped so
much during my pregnancy. It was as if I wasn't a person anymore. I couldn't
see. I could not be. All there was, was pain.
And I tried, so hard to live in that. To let
myself suffer. To overcome it. But it was bigger than I could ever surmount. I
begged for an epidural. When it finally was available, I found strength to
refuse it and try longer. I wanted that experience of a natural birth. The
euphoria you experience. I wanted to trust that my body was made for this. That
I was capable. That I was strong. This was my last labor, last birth, last
chance. I did everything right, I prepared. I had a wonderful birth team. So
many hands willing and wanting and trying to help. Why was nothing helping? Why
was there no relief? I made it another hour, or so, without the epidural. By
that point I was begging, pleading for relief. My head shaking back and forth.
I felt like i would pass out from the pain.
The epidural came. When it kicked in, it was
heavenly mercy. I cried. I slept. And she came. I pushed her out in three
pushes. My pushes were strong. She was in distress. They said she needed to
come now, so I got her here quick. I felt strong in that moment. I didn't tear
at all. When she came, she wasn't breathing. They had to clamp and cut that
gorgeous, spiralling blue cord that was exceptionally long, full of her
precious blood she would never get. No immediate skin to skin. She was
intubated, twice. She had to have an IV of fluid. They were on Skype with UVRMC
to determine if they needed to transfer her. My heart was breaking. I was
trying to stay strong and hopeful, but I just wanted to hold my baby. They let
me say goodbye quickly before they took her to the NICU.
My husband followed.I felt empty, although I was not
alone.I had many women who loved and supported me.
Someone said, "You're done,
it's over." But I quickly responded that no, I was not done. It would not
be done till Lily was in my arms. Scott texted pictures of her to me. My heart
was aching. I needed her. When she finally came, I felt love and relief. I held
her so close, smelled her, breathed her.
After a few moments, we started
skin to skin. She felt like heaven. I was complete. Then, the greatest moment,
the most tender mercy, the miracle, the gift that ended the hardest experience
of my life happened. After all the trauma she experienced immediately after
birth, after all the medication I was on through pregnancy, after surviving at
8 weeks old when I had Severe Septic Pneumonia and was hospitalized, almost
dead, after everything, here she was, latched onto my breast, and nursing
perfectly. My first time. After 3 children who would never latch, this was
nothing short of a miracle! That moment will live in my memory
forever. She is everything. She is my first co-sleeper, first baby to latch,
first time to never have formula. She takes a bottle, a binkie, and me, with no
problems. She is heaven.
Since then, I have gone through a series of
emotions. I was in mourning. I felt like a failure. I felt less than. Less than
those stronger women. A wise friend suggested I have a Closing of the Bones ceremony. I looked it up
and knew that was exactly what i needed. I was surrounded by a few women whom I
love and felt very safe with. They listened to my whole story. They witnessed
my pain, my joy. They watched my birth video and helped me process it all. They
helped me see the strength and the beauty I possessed. That my labor wasn’t
just that night, but the entire pregnancy, and I never gave up. Because of my
experiences, I am able to appreciate every second of the beauty, and the gift
that I have to be a mother. I cherish it. And I empathize and am able to relate
to many types of birth experiences. In 7 years, I have had 6 pregnancies, 6
births, including a vaginal, miscarriage, c section, vbac, miscarriage of
twins, and my last vbac. I have gone through Hyperemesis Gravidarum, heart
complications, Hydronephrosis, severe depression and anxiety, Vasa Previa,
postpartum hemorrhage, Severe Septic Pneumonia and Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction
twice. And I have survived ALL of it. I have 4 beautiful, perfectly healthy
children and a husband that stood by me, supporting me through it all. And it
was all worth it. It was beautiful, and glorious, and I AM a triumphant
warrior. I survived and conquered, and even through everything, I wouldn’t
change a thing. I have learned that life is beautiful not only because of love
and joy, but also because of the pain and sorrow. It is all a gift.
Here is my birth story video. It's rated G. :-)
https://vimeo.com/195908617
Here is my birth story video. It's rated G. :-)
https://vimeo.com/195908617
