Hello Tessa Finley (And A 3 Week Postpartum Update)

***Just a heads up: this post is going to be very long!***

"Delayed hope makes the heart sick, but fulfilled desire is a tree of life." -Proverbs 13:12

As I thought about how to begin this update, the Lord brought this verse to my mind. It wasn't until I started writing that I remembered I had opened with this same passage of Scripture in my very first post about Tessa, which seems fitting. This verse gets more meaningful to me with every year that passes. With Addie, our hope for a child was delayed and it really did make our hearts sick. Yet less than a year after she died, God has blessed us and brought a second little girl into our lives. I intended to write the next update shortly after Tessa was born, but we felt and experienced so many different things that I couldn't find the words for a while. Three weeks later I now know what to say, starting with Tessa's birth story.

On Monday morning, July 13, Mom took me to my pre-op appointment at the hospital. The C-section was scheduled for the next day at 8:30am. During the appointment, when the nurse was using the doppler to check Tessa's heartbeat, she told me that I was having a contraction. A contraction? I thought that was just Tessa stretching! The contraction didn't feel anything like the contractions I had with Addie, though it was still tight and painless. I thought for sure the nurse had to be mistaken, because if THAT was a contraction, then I had been having them every day for a while after all. I left the appointment confident that she had it wrong (in spite of the fact that she was a nurse who dealt with pregnant women every day), but in the back of my mind I started to doubt. Maybe it was a contraction after all. Mom and I came back to the house, and I felt tired so I laid down and took a nap. At one point, when I got up to go to the bathroom, I felt that familiar tightness again. It wasn't noticeable tightening, but it once again felt like Tessa was stretching. Making a mental note to keep an eye on these moments of "stretching," I went back to sleep. 

Lunchtime rolled around, and Mom and I discussed where to go. For some bizarre reason Chili's sounded good, even though the food tastes processed and usually leaves much to be desired. However, their chili queso dip, chips and salsa, and barbecue ribs sounded better than anything else I could think of, so off we went. That's right, the family "health-nut" decided her last lunch before the surgery would be unhealthy food. Maybe I had a moment of nostalgia, since we used to eat there a lot when I was a child. I'm just as surprised as you! Anyway, when we got to the restaurant, I skimmed the menu even though I knew what I wanted. We had not been seated for two minutes when my attention was drawn to my abdomen. This time it was that familiar and obvious tightening that I experienced when I was in labor with Addie. Oh boy. Mom must have seen my face change, because she asked if I was okay. I calmly told her that I definitely just had a contraction (which I had mentally started timing), so she pulled out her phone and went straight to the stopwatch app. It lasted for over two minutes before easing up. She told me to let her know if I had another one, and she would time it for me. We joked about how funny (and typical) it would be if I ended up going into labor and having the C-section on the thirteenth instead of the next day. It wouldn't be that surprising; from what we could tell in the ultrasound appointments, Tessa was stubborn and had a mind of her own. It seemed very likely to me that she would decide to do things her own way and come the last day before the surgery. The waitress brought out the chips, salsa, and queso dip, and Mom and I chatted some more. A few minutes later I felt another contraction coming on, so I alerted Mom and she started the timer again. Two. Two contractions in less than ten minutes. Four or more in an hour is usually a sign of labor, and I began to suspect that the contractions were not about to stop. After the third contraction in 25 minutes, I said, "You know Mom, I'm going to have another contraction in a minute, and we'll probably have to go to the hospital." She was okay with that, and both of us felt excited at the prospect of what the day would bring. Though our food had just come out, we asked for to-go boxes. Sure enough the fourth contraction hit not long after the third one ended, so we packed up our food and headed toward the hospital. Mom suggested I call the OB, who told me to come there first so I could be checked, and I called G to tell him what was going on.

Between the waiting room and exam room, we were there for over an hour before a doctor came in. My OB wasn't in the office that day, and apparently the wait was that long because they had trouble finding my file (which was probably in the process of getting faxed to the hospital). Thankfully, I do very well with long wait times. While we were in the main waiting room, I had several more contractions. I practiced my deep breathing and relaxation in the exam room, and they stopped for a while. Finally, one of the other doctors came in and apologized for the delay, then asked me some questions about my situation. Then she did a pelvic exam to check the status of my cervix. A few seconds later, she sat back and said, "Well, you are 90% effaced and 1 centimeter dilated, so you definitely need to go to the hospital!" That news didn't surprise me at all because I already knew I was in labor, so we headed across the street and up the elevator to the L&D floor. On our way over I updated G, who immediately dropped what he was doing at work and met us at the hospital. He arrived right before they took us back to a labor and delivery room (much to my relief). 

Because I had eaten lunch recently, they wanted to wait at least 6 hours before taking me back for surgery so that my food would be fully digested. So G, Mom, and I waited in the L&D room for the remainder of the afternoon. A nurse was came in every so often to check the fetal monitor, take my blood pressure, or insert an IV, and we also spoke with the anesthesiologist and his assistant. My aunt and cousins showed up and visited with us for a little while, and eventually everyone but G went back to the waiting room until after the surgery. As we approached the end of the six hour wait time, I was given some medication through the IV to prepare me for the surgery. My OB arrived and talked with me for a few minutes, and told me that I was third in line for a cesarean. They ended up bumping me to second place when my contractions began affecting Tessa's heart rate.

After the first C-section was finished and the operating room cleared, they took me back to administer the spinal. G had to wait just outside the room until they had prepped me, then they brought him in. Although the surgery had previously been such a source of anxiety for me, I wasn't nervous at all. The anesthesiologist was very skilled, and after giving me the numbing medicine I didn't even feel the larger needle. I shook the entire time as a side effect of the spinal, but I was alert and aware of everything that was happening. As I laid there on the operating table, I was struck by how different - yet similar - things were this time around. When I labored with Addie, I was on my back the entire time. With Tessa I was on my back yet again (something I had really hoped to avoid repeating). With the birth of both babies there was a peace in my soul, even though I knew in my heart that Addie was going to die that night and I didn't know what would happen with Tessa. They whisked Tessa away to the warmer after she was born just like they did with Addie. This time though, I saw Tessa move when they held her over the sheet. I heard her cry (or to be more accurate, I heard her scream - boy does she have some lungs!). She was born at 8:30pm, weighed 5lbs 11oz, and measured 17 1/2 inches long.

Brand new and cheesy.

I couldn't hold her yet, but G held her close so I could look at her.

At that point, I was stitched back up and my OB removed my cerclage. G was across the room with Tessa, and he would occasionally come back over to check on me before returning to where she was. Before we knew it, they were wheeling us to a temporary recovery room so we could have a private moment as a family. I finally got to hold Tessa and try my hand at breastfeeding for the first time. After a little while they moved us to the maternity ward, and our family was able to come back and meet her. It was a really special time where many tears were shed and countless pictures were taken. I was reminded of when our parents and my brother came to the other hospital after Addie was born. By the time they arrived she had already died, but they still held her and marveled and cried (just for different reasons).

My baby girl was smiling at me!

After everyone left, reality set in as I tried to feed Tessa on the hospital's recommended 2-3 hour schedule. G and I didn't sleep that night, and I didn't sleep the next night either. Every time one of us would drift off, a nurse would come in to check me or Tessa. G had trouble settling down because whenever Tessa would make a noise or move, he was checking to make sure she was breathing. He was such a trooper and even though he was severely sleep deprived, he would hold Tessa so I could get some sleep. When I woke up, we would trade off, and he would try and sleep. Eventually, I told him he needed to go back to the house for a few hours during the day to get a shower (since hospitals gross him out) and take a nap where he wouldn't have to worry about either of us. He felt bad about leaving at first, but Mom was there with me every day as soon as visiting hours started and I told him he needed to go so that he could be rested enough to tackle the sleepless nights. Our second night in the hospital was probably the hardest, because Tessa screamed most of the night and we couldn't calm her down. She was still learning how to eat, and her little tummy was gassy. Humorously, G had to change all of her horrible meconium diapers, since my legs were numb for a long time (and I couldn't move around easily even after the feeling came back). So much for my promise to change all of her poopy diapers!

That Thursday, we were cleared to go home. Before we left, my OB came in and pulled out the stitch from the C-section (it still had surgical glue). They discharged us a little after lunchtime, and we were so glad to be home. Even Tessa seemed significantly more content. She would get really upset in the hospital if her arms were free from the swaddling blanket because the room was so cold, but our house was really warm, so she stretched out and seemed to relax right away. I found this funny because I dislike the cold so much, so I guess she does too! Most of the first week was spent in the hospital, and G worked half days the following week. Mom and my mother-in-law both came on different days to stay with me until he would get home. I got around much better, but still couldn't tackle much housework. It also helped to have someone else there who could hold Tessa or change her diaper so I could eat and go to the bathroom. Tessa was quick to catch on to breastfeeding in the hospital, and she did especially well after my milk came in the night we were discharged. The next two weeks were a blur of feedings, pediatrician appointments, and catching sleep whenever we could. She was a little jaundiced (I was too, when I was born), but we didn't need any treatment.

Motherhood surprised me. Even before I met G, I knew I wanted to put my babies on a schedule. I consider myself to be a rational and reasonably logical person, so I was caught off guard when I felt so emotional about Tessa. I wasn't prepared for the intense empathy I had for her, and I lost my resolve to do anything but hold her and feed her for a while. She was so little and helpless, and my heart broke every time she would cry. However, after a couple of weeks of on-demand feedings and sleepless nights, I knew things had to change. She had passed her birth weight by then and was growing well, and it would be best for all of us if we got a more structured routine established. That's what we've been working on since last Thursday, and she's doing a great job! She's still working on sleeping through the night, but we'll get there soon enough.

I feel like the Lord has used this pregnancy and the early weeks of parenthood to grow me a lot. God has shown me that when He throws a wrench in my plans, it's very likely because His plans are better. I've also realized how much of a control freak I really am, and I'm learning to let go and take things as they come.

We are grateful to all of you for your prayers and encouragement over the last year. It has meant so much to us!

"Many plans are in a man's heart, but the Lord's decree will prevail." -Proverbs 19:21

"For the Lord is good, and His love is eternal; His faithfulness endures through all generations." -Psalm 100:5