On Wednesday, April 10th at 3:31 pm, I was finally able to breathe again as we welcomed Hattie Jane Van Hal into the world.
After nearly 36 weeks of worry, fear and anxiety, the weight I had been carrying on my shoulders slowly melted away as I heard her sweet cry for the first time.
I am naturally a worrier. It is easier for me to imagine the worst happening and live in anxiety. Being optimistic is my husband’s strength- not mine. Yet throughout my pregnancy with Hattie I had tried my very best to stay positive. I had wonderful support from family and friends who were diligently praying for Hattie. I spent a lot of personal time in prayer as well. I asked God to protect Hattie and use her for His glory. I was thankful for the time He had given me with Hattie-no matter how long it lasted. I often repeated these words to myself: “Different pregnancy. Different baby. Different outcome.”
Though in all of my efforts to think the best, there was a small piece...ok, maybe medium-sized piece... of fear that continued to linger. To say I was overcome with emotion as I met Hattie that day, my living, breathing baby girl, would be an understatement.
She was perfect. All seven pounds, seven ounces, and eighteen inches of her. She resembled her older siblings, but still had her own look and personality. We were in love and just so thankful she was alive!
The day before, I had an appointment with my MFM- a specialist I had been seeing throughout my pregnancy in addition to my OB for extra ultrasounds and checks on Hattie. Eric was there with me and the appointment started out like any other, but I quickly felt something wasn’t right. According to the scan, Hattie had hardly grown in the last week and her movements were not impressing the doctor either. I started being asked questions like, “Has she been moving as much lately? Did you eat breakfast this morning? What time did you give your last Lovenox injection?” I knew where these questions were leading. My doctor stopped the ultrasound, took my hand and said, “I want to send you into the hospital. What I’m noticing could be nothing, but it wouldn’t make sense for us to ignore any warning sign after all of the extra monitoring we’ve been doing on you. I know it’s early, but I keep thinking of what you said to me the other day- I’d rather find myself sitting in the NICU than a funeral home again.”
Eric and I tried to stay calm, but we were both terrified. You could see it on our faces. We quickly drove home and started packing our things before heading to the hospital. We spent the rest of that day/night in a delivery room hooked up to monitors. Everything was looking fine with Hattie’s heartbeat and we would be induced the next morning.
Around 6 am the pitocin started. I got my epidural around 10:30 am and was ready to push by around 3 pm. The rest is history…There is so much more about that day I could share, but for now my sleep deprived self will leave it at that.
We were so thankful to have our good friend and photographer, Joy, there to capture the moments of that day. We will cherish these photos forever.
