Originally posted January 14, 2019
There’s a quote I like that says, “Grief is like the ocean, it comes in waves, ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim. (Vicki Harrison)
I’m working on sorting out my thoughts from the past six weeks. There’s so much that Colin and I could talk about that’s been revealed to us through Taya’s life, and I hope we continue to share these things as we’re able to articulate them.
Today, I wanted to share Taya’s birth story. I made myself write this a few weeks after she was born. I didn’t want to, because it was so hard to think about, but at the same time I didn’t want to forget a single detail of the day. I revisited my writing today, because today the water is calm. This isn’t a very revolutionary piece of writing—it’s a play-by-play of what I remember—although I think you’ll be able to see in several ways where God provided without me expounding on anything.
Reasons for sharing are many. It’s healing for me to write it out and let you read it. It is an important part of Taya’s story. And I want to be vulnerable and open in case there are others out there with similar stories looking for comfort and solidarity.
It’s long. I won’t begrudge you if you don’t make it to the end. But I hope you do.
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Monday, December 3 was not a good day. It was the start of the week of Taya’s birthday. My c-section was scheduled for Thursday, and after more than four months of waiting and unknowns, we were going to meet Taya. And say goodbye.
But Monday, I woke up and felt off. All day I cycled between feeling really tired, nauseous, sad, and guilty for not playing with Connor more. Colin came home from work and after talking me through my latest breakdown, he made us french toast for dinner. He left shortly after to go run with some friends, and after putting Connor to bed I tried to relax on the couch. I felt some cramping a few times but didn’t put together at the time that I was having contractions. They were not close together and I never went into labor with Connor, so it didn’t cross my mind.
About midnight, I realized these cramps were actually contractions. I tried to ignore them for a while, but eventually downloaded an app on my phone to track them. Around 1am I woke up Colin to tell him I was having contractions, and they were getting closer together. We stayed in bed for a while; I think in disbelief that this was happening. When I couldn’t ignore the discomfort anymore, I got up and started packing my bag. Colin got on the phone with my doctor, who told us to come in to labor and delivery. Contractions were about five minutes apart and not stopping.
Around 4am, after my mom came over to stay with Connor, we headed to the hospital. In triage, the nurses hooked me up to monitor my contractions and Taya’s heartbeat for a while. Of course, as soon as I settled in there, my contractions slowed way down. My nurse checked with Dr. F, and reported back that we could either go ahead with the c-section that morning instead, or we could go home again. We opted to meet our daughter that day.
I consider this a gift. I imagine what it would have been like in the few days left leading up to my scheduled date of surgery. I know I would have been anxious and scared, especially Wednesday night. Instead, I went into labor unexpectedly. I didn’t have time to get scared or anxious in anticipation.
The nurse who helped us in triage was at the end of her shift, but before she left she asked if she could pray with us. This woman prayed for peace and a miracle for our baby.
Shortly after that, another nurse named Lisa came in to talk to us. She would be one of our labor and delivery nurses, and she was prepping me and getting us ready to move upstairs. One of the first things she said to us was, “When I heard that you decided to carry this baby to term, I knew you were my kind of people.”
After Taya was born, when we were in recovery, Lisa told us she recognized us. She was at one of the weddings Colin and I shot earlier in the year. She also told us that she was not scheduled to work that morning. She called in to see if they needed extra help, and if she should come in early.
We moved upstairs to get ready for surgery. There, we met our other labor and delivery nurse, Stephanie. I can’t tell you how amazing Lisa and Stephanie were. They talked straight with us about what was going to happen, but also assured us they would do absolutely everything they could to make Taya comfortable and give us as much time with her as possible. They each took turns taking photos with our camera throughout the whole time they were with us—photos that are so wonderful and that we will treasure forever. God gave us exactly who we needed that morning.
Dr. F came to talk to us. The last time we saw her was our first appointment at MFM—she was the doctor who gave us Taya’s diagnosis. (All the doctors take turns treating patients, and we just never happened to have an appointment on her rotation again.) She quickly told us that she remembered us well and was so sorry. She walked through the plan for the surgery, which would be mostly a routine c-section, except for a few variables that changed things because of Taya’s specific abnormality.
The anesthesiologist came in next and gave me another rundown of what to expect once in the delivery room. After that, we were ready to go. Around 8am, we went up to another floor to the meet our daughter. They arranged for us to deliver on the same floor that my room would be on, which was a bit away from the regular maternity wing. The ride up the elevator and to the operating room was difficult, and I started crying. I knew it was almost time to say goodbye.
Colin had to leave me for a few minutes while I got the spinal and they prepped me. Once I was in the operating room my tears wouldn’t stop. I was scared of surgery, still aware that complications could happen. We didn’t know if Taya would be born alive, or what she would look like. And, of course, knowing that if she was alive, time was going to be limited.
After the anesthesiologist finished, I could feel my lower half start to go numb. It is one of the oddest sensations to experience. A warmth spread through, and then my legs just stopped working. Dr. F and the others in the room got the curtain up and made sure I couldn’t feel anything. I did laugh through some tears a bit, because they removed my gown and all took time to appreciate my last c-section scar. “That is one beautiful-looking incision.” I said I didn’t think I’ve ever gotten that compliment before.
Colin came into the room and it was time to start. He held my hand and we both cried and waited. We had asked prior to this that Taya be wrapped up in a blanket before she was given to us. Her abnormalities were all below her chest, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to see them. The surgery felt rougher than I remember with Connor, and I imagine that is because of what it took to get her out. At one point the table was shaking and one doctor was pushing down on me while the other was pulling her out.
Dr. F started to get her out, and she told us Taya had lots of dark hair. I wasn’t expecting that at all—Connor was born with reddish peach fuzz and I assumed she’d be similar. Then Dr. F said her eyes were open and she was alive. We heard everyone on that side of curtain give an ‘aww’ and she told us Taya had opened her mouth like a yawn.
At this point, I asked Colin if he wanted to go by her. He said yes. We both wanted Taya to feel as much love from us as possible if she was born alive. He headed back around the curtain and got some photos of her coming out. They are amazing photos and I’m so glad to have them.
The nurses quickly wrapped her up and brought her around to me. I couldn’t believe the hair on her head! I just kept saying she was so beautiful. She was held snuggled next to my cheek for a while, and then I told Colin I wanted him to hold her. I had spent the last almost 38 weeks with her, and I wanted him to have her close while her heart was still beating. He sat next to me and held her.
Shortly after that, I felt sick and started throwing up. Throwing up with no stomach muscles is not the best. It seemed to continue for a long time, but finally the anesthesiologist got me sorted out and I recovered again. Colin brought Taya back over to my cheek and we snuggled together for a while longer.
Taya was born at 8:36am. At 9:09am she left us. She did not make a sound, and by the time Colin went back around the curtain her eyes were closed. She did open her mouth and gasp a few times while we held her. It seems like such a blur, but we will treasure those 33 minutes with her forever. God provides.
They closed me up and took me to a room to recover. There were no complications with the surgery, not even extra bleeding, which had been expected. Once in the recovery room, Stephanie took Taya to wash her and weigh her (5 pounds and 6 ounces). At the same time, I was getting monitored and throwing up some more. I was given some medication to help me stop throwing up that made me super tired, so for the next hour or so I drifted in and out of sleep while Colin cuddled with Taya next to me.
Eventually, I woke up a little bit more (but still felt pretty out of it), and was ready to move over to my regular room. We wheeled down the hall some more and got settled in. We spent some time together, just the three of us, crying and praying and loving on each other.
Around 1:30, my friend Tabitha came to take some photos of us together. Again, these are precious photos that we are so happy to have. She stayed until Connor could come and meet his sister, around 2:15. He walked into the room with Taya’s elephant, the animal he picked out for her months ago, and plopped it right on the bed next to her. I hope to never forget the look of pride and love that was on his face as he met his sister.
Colin helped Connor hold Taya for a while. Eventually Tabitha left, and we called in my parents and sister to the room. (They brought Connor to the hospital but waited down the hall for a while.) Everyone took a turn holding her and looking at her. Connor was so sweet—he sat on the couch and put a pillow on his lap and held out his hands to hold Taya again. He gave her so many kisses and hugs.
We let our families know they could come visit the rest of the day. Colin’s parents came next, then our pastor, then Colin’s sisters, then my brother and sister-in-law, then his brother and sister-in-law. In between visitors, nurses checked on me, but otherwise we were left alone. Our whole stay in the hospital, we had worship music playing. We didn’t talk much, but the music was constant. It was such a sorrowful and beautiful time.
The next day I was able to get up and move around a little more, but I felt extremely rough and sore. Connor came back for another visit, still as proud as the day before. One of our church elders also visited, and our pastor again. They each read scriptures of comfort and prayed with us. We spent the rest of the day again mostly in silence. Brittany brought us dinner and visited for a while.
Thursday morning, Dr. F came to check on me again. She was okay with letting me go home that day if I wanted to, or I could stay another night. We decided to head home, as hard as it would be to say goodbye to Taya. We knew one more day wouldn’t be good for her little body and wanted to remember her as the beautiful baby she is.
Dr. F told us that when she was taking Taya out, she looked so beautiful that she wondered if they had made a mistake. She expressed how sorry she was for our loss again and talked with us for a while longer.
For the next few hours we sat together on the couch and took turns holding our girl. We took a few more photos using my camera remote, and then knew it was time. We each gave one last big hug and kiss, and put her into the cradle. We stood and looked at her, trying to record every last detail in our brains, until the nurse came in with a wheelchair.
Being wheeled out of that room, down the hall and elevator and out to the car was awful. I had arms full of flowers and no baby. Colin and I both cried and tried to get out of there as fast as we could.
We made it home and cried some more. I rested for a while and then loaded the photos on my computer and went through them and cried more.
Taya’s funeral was the following week, and it was so beautiful. I have more to say about that day as well, and I hope to share more as I sort through more feelings.