The Rest of The Story

My original birth story for Ruby told of the picture-perfect labor and the amazing delivery. What it didn't tell was the overly emotional and gut-check kind of day we had after she arrived. I've started and stopped this chapter of the story more times than I can count. I've rewritten over and over because I worried it portrayed Lehr and I as not faithful enough, as weak, as naive, as ungrateful, as fragile...the list goes on. In the end, I realized that those things, those truths are what makes it the real story. So the nitty gritty is what I ended up with. I think our story still paints us in those lights, but I've come to realize that it's ok because that is the reality of the story. And even though I've thought about editing this post until it's grammatically correct, until it's all in the correct verb tense, until it's polished, that's not how it happened...nothing that went through my head, through my heart, those hospital days was polished. So here goes....the good, the bad, the ugly....

As imperfect as being induced three weeks early might sound, it actually was perfect. The midwife I saw the day before Ruby was born told me to go home, pack and head to the hospital that night because they'd start induction in the morning. That gave me time (without being distracted by actually being in labor) to get my kids taken care of, fly my mom in early, repack my bag, and drive calmly to the hospital with Lehr. Although I didn't sleep a lot, it also allowed for one full night of rest before labor started. And even then, once it was time to get things started, my midwife and labor nurse were incredibly receptive to everything I wanted to do (basically avoid all drugs, even the kind that help labor progress when you're inducing). With the help of my doula, I was able to keep things moving at the pace I chose, labor progressed quickly, but not *too* quickly, Lehr and I worked well together through the pain and we were presented with a beautiful baby girl at the end of it who nursed right away....so on and so forth down the road of exactly how I planned it. You don't hear about a picture perfect labor/delivery like that because it just doesn't happen very often.


When Ruby was born, I got to hold her for a long time while she nursed on and off. Then Lehr held her, then the doula, repeat repeat. Finally one of the baby nurses took her over to the bed-baker (it has a heat lamp on it, for crying out loud) where they cleaned her off a little, did a few preliminary checks, etc. In that time we found out her weight and were informed that they couldn't bathe her until her blood sugar was at a certain number (due to her being early). No problem. They stuck her heel and it was low, so they fed her some formula and tried again. Still a little too low, so they finished a few more things and wheeled her away to the nursery to clean her off without a sponge bath. Very standard so far. They assured me they'd bring her right back once I arrived in my next room.

My mom and the kids arrived minutes after they wheeled Ruby out of my room, so they hung out until a wheelchair was brought for me to be transported to my 'recovery' room. We all went upstairs and got settled in. Almost an hour later and still no Ruby, so Lehr walked my mom and the kids down the hall to peek in the nursery. They got to see her through the windows there, but that was as close as they could get. Almost another hour passed before I finally sent them all home. In that time they got to see Ruby through the glass three or four times, giving me reports of how cute she was, that she was sleeping, that all of the nurses were looking at her and checking up on her. In that time, those two-ish hours, I started to get nervous. Something was not right because if it was, she'd be back in the room with me. I think I told my mom to take the kids and go home several times before she finally did. I knew she and the kids really wanted to meet their baby sister, but my anxiety over why Ruby was still in the nursery was rising.

As it turned out, they left just in time. Not 30 minutes later a nurse came in, wheeling Ruby, and told me that they noticed a few things during their further exams (mainly 'floppiness' and hair falling out) that indicated neurological issues, so Ruby was going up to Transition (kind of like a stop-off to figure out if the NICU is needed or not) to be checked out by some doctors. She was very blase about it, but the word 'neurological' got my attention. I asked if Lehr could go with Ruby and the nurse said he could, but he'd be in the waiting room. Then she asked if I wanted to say 'good-bye' first. Another attention-grabber for me. I hugged my baby and kissed her before Lehr, calm, cool and collected, followed the bassinet out of my room.

Then I'm alone, hormones from giving birth not five hours prior surging, worrying about where Ruby is and what the doctors could be looking for. Trying to calm myself, I grabbed my camera and started flipping through the pictures Lehr and I took just after she was born. And then I saw it...just a hint of something, only noticeable in a few pictures. Not sure if I was really seeing something, not entirely sure of what the something was, I deleted a few of them, trying to tell myself that it was the camera angle or the bad hospital lighting. More time passed and now I have to, HAVE TO, see my baby. She has been away from me for over three hours except for her drive-by on the way to Transition. I need to hold her NOW. And I'm worried about how Ruby's eating also. I don't want them to give her any more formula so I page my nurse and ask for a pump. I produce enough to bottle and then ask if someone can take me up to Lehr and Ruby.

It takes forever to figure out where she is, but finally they wheel me up. Lehr is sitting in a small waiting room with a few others. On one wall are two doors and a few small windows. After I ask Lehr if he's heard anything, I walk over to the window and see her, peacefully lying in an exam bassinet, arms and legs stretched out. She is so small and so limp. I start to cry immediately. Lehr reassures me that everything is fine, but I know. I just know.

What seems like an hour later, but was probably only minutes later, someone gets us from the window and takes us through one of the doors. They bring us to Ruby and a doctor who spoke way too fast and without any warning or bedside manner. He informs us that our baby shows many of the signs of having Down syndrome, and immediately the room is spinning and I'm sobbing. Without taking a breath, he continues to talk.....something short and fast: "The chromosome tests won't be back for a week but I don't want to give you false hope that the diagnosis will change...Here's a book...Emory has a great clinic here in town...Do you have any questions?".

Now I'm shaking and crying, Lehr is shaking and asks the doctor if he can just give us a minute to process. Somehow there are chairs behind us now and we're sitting, crying, trying to comfort each other even though we can't comfort ourselves. My mind was going a million miles a minute. What did this mean for Ruby? Would she talk? Go to school? Have friends? What about our family? We have everything 'in place'...what would this diagnosis do to our organized chaos? Maybe they were wrong...the tests wouldn't be back for another week...what if they were mistaken in their original assessment? I can't do this....can we do this? Working with Eli's feet is already so taxing and this will be so much more...how can we possibly do this? How would the kids react? How would our family react? Will they know as soon as they see her? What if they don't...how do we tell them? What do we tell them?

Why? Please let it be something else...something I can fix. Something I can identify with. Something I can handle.

Why me? I was only 35 when I got pregnant...I know plenty of moms older than me and none of them have had to face this. Why me? Why her? Why us? The questions kept coming and I couldn't slow them down....

Remember how I said that I knew? Well that didn't matter, because hearing something you think you may have learned in the last hour, but was so unbelievably unexpected only a day before still hits you like a ton of bricks. It drops the floor of security out from under you faster than you can imagine. We were both blind sighted in a way so incomparable to anything we'd experienced before. I don't know how long we sat there reeling from the news, but finally they let me hold her and we showered her with tears and kisses. When I had Ruby in my arms, none of it mattered. She was so beautiful, so perfect...it seemed ridiculous that they were telling us anything was wrong.

Eventually they had us put her back in her bassinet; they told us to go back to our room and they'd bring her to us because she'd been checked out by the doctors and she didn't need to stay in Transition any longer. We took the elevator back to our room with stony faces, numb to everything around us.

We had barely set foot inside of the recovery room when there was a knock at the door. The OB on-call (the same one that had come in to say 'hi' just that morning as I started my labor) asked if he could come in and talk. I guess I said 'yes' because the next thing I know, he is sitting at the foot of my bed, saying all of the right things. He was extremely un-doctor-like (in a very awesome way) in his demeanor, tone, and personal attention. I can't remember any of the specific words he used, but he reassured us and calmed us, and even put us in contact with friends of his that had 'been there, done that'. And once he was done (which was probably not for another 30 minutes - he was that amazing!), they brought Ruby back to us. With that brought more tears, more confusion, more fear.

I fed Ruby and eventually sent her back to the nursery so I could get a little sleep. I was doubting everything at this time, especially my ability to care for a baby with such a big diagnosis. If she was in the nursery, even if only for a few hours, that's a few hours that I knew she'd be safe and watched over by a trained eye. I don't even know what to be watching for...

Lehr and I are both exhausted so we both try to sleep. All night, in and out of a few feedings, I toss and turn, waking up only to have grief and sadness wash over me again. I can't get away from it. But when I feed her, when I'm holding her, everything is fine. She is perfect. But I still study her face. In my state of fatigue and being emotionally beat-down, I try to convince myself again that maybe they're wrong. I can't always see 'it' in her face....wouldn't 'it' be more obvious? Wouldn't I be able to see 'it' all of the time? All I see when I look at her is Maddux and Eli. And Ruby.

But when they take her back to the nursery, I am left alone with the questions and fear. So much fear. I lie back down and try to sleep but my brain won't shut off...the questions, the scenarios, they keep coming. The noise in my head is deafening. What does this mean for the many friends of ours that are trying to have a baby? What does this mean for our kids? How will Ruby do in school? What if she can't make friends? How can I help her fit in when everyone will see something different about her when they meet her?

And then there is the really selfish stuff. The stuff that's hard to admit even crossed my mind.

I'd just gotten MY life in a good place with two side jobs that were my passion...what would I do now? *Just* be a mom? What about boot camp? What about my photography? I'd finally figured out how to be a mom and work without taking time/energy away from my family...what now? And what about Lehr and I? We just had an amazing year of being a couple, one full of us-time and dates and a few trips...was that all behind us now? Would we ever be able to leave for a weekend away again? Would it ever be 'Cole and Lehr' again?

I've never been one to put a lot of stock in recounts of people experiencing an actual physical presence of God, probably because I'd never experienced it myself. But I honestly had one of those moments during one of the noisiest times that night. I was lying on my side, trying to shut my brain off, trying to quiet the questions, trying to calm the fears and I felt hands gently cover my ears. It was one the most bizarre things I've ever felt, but it was definitely real. And with those hands came a quiet. A calmness. (BTW - That was just one of many God moments throughout our first 48-hours post-diagnosis...we had so many more!)

Finally the morning came and with it many more waves of tears. For a few moments when I first woke up, I hoped that someone would come in and tell me that they'd done further tests overnight and found out that they were wrong. But those were fleeting hopes because I knew. Just like I did before I really knew.

The kids and my mom planned to return in the morning, along with two friends we'd confided in via text the night before. I tried to prepare myself for that, but what I wasn't prepared for was the never-ending knocks at our door to take Ruby for tests. On top of that, because the kids and my mom didn't know anything yet, every time there was a knock, I'd have to try to shoo them out of the room out of fear they'd hear something from a doctor instead of us.

Tests, tests....heart, hearing, thyroid...the list seemed to go on. And with each test came a new set of fears. Most of those fears came from me not knowing what Down syndrome was, what it could mean, what it can affect. Ruby failed her hearing test. Another gut-check. I steeled myself for the follow-up test, telling myself that I enjoyed doing sign language with the other kids when they were younger...we could handle this. (The next day, she failed the follow-up. Again, I closed my eyes and powered through. Finally, she passed the final one. Only momentary relief because I know we'll have to follow-up once we get home.) Then, I think I held my breath the entire time she was out of our room getting her echo cardiogram with the cardiologist. But he came back to us with a clean report and at least one (HUGE) fear was quieted.

Ruby returned right behind the cardiologist and the kids and Grandma Cathie finally got to meet her. Joy. Pure joy. The kids absolutely loved her at first sight and were beside themselves with pride. You couldn't wipe the smile off of Eli's face if you tried...he was so in love with her! And Maddux could not have been a more doting big sister. Seeing Ruby through their eyes reminded me of how I was able to love her when she was first born, before I knew anything was different. How freely I loved her in those moments, without grief, without worry, without fear. Watching the kids hold her and kiss her and marvel at her was so needed in that moment!
The day continued with a few friends visiting and allowing us some sad tears but also there were plenty of joy. The day continued with many pictures of Ruby hanging out, a whole 24-hours old. The day continued with more tests, including another failed hearing test. The day continued with Ruby peeing on Lehr almost every time he changed her diaper. The day continued with a conversation with a couple in Texas who helped reassure us that it was going to be ok. The day continued with Ruby turning her head towards Lehr or I ever so slightly when we held her. The day continued with Ruby nursing really well and showing us that her oral muscles would not need immediate attention. The day continued with our daughter spending a lot of time awake and alert, her eyes searching mine, humbling me every time. The day continued with Ruby cementing herself in our hearts and in our family.

As lengthy as it is, I think that's a good place to end the birth story. However, in no way is that the end of the struggles for Ruby, the end of readjusting our expectations, the end of the fear. But the good news is, in no way is that the end of Ruby's story - her story is about so much more than just a diagnosis. About so much more than just a chromosome test. She will teach Lehr and I things that we couldn't possibly learn from anyone else, and she'll make Maddux and Eli the best siblings they could ever be, and she'll paint the world sunny. Of that, I have no doubt, and in that knowledge, I have no fear. I now know that Ruby is not what we expected; she is so much more.

Ruby's First Film

2013 06 Ruby from Nicole Eliason on Vimeo.

Ruby

Wow....what a crazy 24 hours! Last night I was admitted to the hospital and given Cervadil at 6PM. It did nothing in the way of contractions, but they wanted to 'prep' my body for 12 hours before they formally induced me. At 8AM, the midwife broke my water and contractions started, about every 3 minutes, but still very manageable. (Sidenote: my midwife was AMAZING and let my preferences override the 'order' for pitocin...she let me try it naturally first and in the end we didn't need the dreaded "P".)

At my appointment yesterday, I was 2cm, and at 8AM this morning I was 3-4cm. Once she broke my water I started doing laps around the hospital, walking, lunging (ish), squatting....you name it. I had to stay hooked up to antibiotics at noon for about an hour....I used that time to rest between contractions because I was worn out from the day's activities already. They were coming stronger, but slowing down between because I chose to lie down and rest a little. I was determined to keep things moving, partly because the awesome midwife and delivery nurse working with me were scheduled to leave at 3PM. We brought the contractions on again strong with some movement and at 1PM they were very intense and close together. That's when the real insane workout began. I was sweating, eyes closed the whole time, and things never really let up. Around 2-2:15PM, I was about out of energy and the midwife offered to check my progress, even though I was already feeling the urge to push, to confirm that it was time. Sure enough, I was at a 9 - go time. Many painful pushes later, Ruby came out and was bigger than we expected.

Baby girl weighed 5lb 15oz (they estimated 5lb 10oz), and was 18 1/4" long. She nursed almost right away - what a champ! We got to keep her with us for about an hour before they took her to the other side of the room to do a little more cleaning and measuring. That lasted about another 30 minutes and then it was time to take her to the nursery for more thorough everything. Unfortunately, Grandma Cathie and the kids missed her by about five minutes. She remained with the nurses for several hours, so the 'big' introduction will have to wait until tomorrow.

All mothers know this, but what an amazing experience and journey....nine months leading up to one of the most intensely emotional introductions possible. She's perfect and amazing and even though she's only been here a few hours, I feel like she's been part of our family forever.

Baby number three - another 'quick' labor, no pain meds, tremendous joy....

Happy Birthday, Mad Dog!

Unbelievable. Last year at this time I was in a hospital bed, anxiously waiting for you to make your grand entrance. When you did (2:44PM), I couldn't believe how small you seemed. Even though you were healthy at 6lbs. 13 oz., it's easy to forget how tiny a newborn is. Unbelievable. And it's easy to forget how light they feel in your arms. (Especially when I'd been used to the heft of 28-something pound Eli.) Your dad and I named you Maddux, after the great Cubs' pitcher (he was in Chicago before he was in Atlanta, folks!), and you completely fit the Mad Dog name in every way. For the first week, your weight was an issue. You nursed great, but the scale went down more than it went up, which caused the doctors some concern. But once we brought you to the pediatrician's office and saw that you'd gained a huge percent in just a few days, you never looked back: you've been in the 90th percentile (or higher) ever since! Unbelievable. When we first brought you home, Eli was a little apprehensive about your presence. Even when we gave him the train table that you picked out for him. (We thought it might sweeten the deal a bit!) But within a few days he was asking to hold you and the kisses started immediately. You won him over right away. Unbelievable. Those first few weeks were difficult and I know that I did not give you the one-on-one attention and focus that I gave Eli when he was that age...balancing the needs of two kids was difficult and since you slept most of the time, I used those extra minutes to reassure Eli. But you never held it against me. Unbelievable. You were still so happy to see me each time I'd wake you from a nap or pick you up to be fed and changed. You were so laid back and mellow when Eli would pet your hair and roughly kiss the top of your head. And when we let him hold you and rock you, no tears were shed at all...you knew the way to his heart was adoration and you gave it to him every step of the way. Unbelievable. Eli calls you "Max" because he can't quite get the 'd' in your name, but he says your name with such endearment that yet another nickname has stuck. He loves watching out for you and I truly believe it's because you adore and idolize him and he knows it. The two of you are such good friends and I hope it always continues. When we put Eli's pajamas on each night, he asks, "Crawl with Max?" and when you get up in the morning you make a bee-line for his bedroom door. Life is good.

Maddie-Maddie, every day I am surprised at how full of your own personality you are. You give love so freely, allowing so many opportunities for hugs and kisses, yet you can be so independent, playing by yourself in a happy state for so long I often forget you are there. Your rough-tough side comes out every day when you wrestle with Eli or tackle me after I change your diaper or take one fall after another only to keep going. And even though I think you are gorgeous (you're going to be a heart breaker with those eyelashes!), you have some of the goofiest facial expressions I've ever seen... Maddux, you're proving to me each day that a girl is not all ribbons and bows (thank goodness), but more fun and laughs than I thought possible. Thank you for making our family happier and more full of love than it could have ever been without you. You are Maddux, Maddie, Daddy's Mad Dog, Eli's Max, and my Maddie-Maddie. And you are unbelievable.

A Year Ago...

One year ago today. It seems like yesterday. Your dad and I (and Eli) went to the OB's office for a routine 38-week check-up. The midwife measured my belly and noticed that it hadn't budged in the last week, size-wise, so she wanted to do a quick ultrasound. Everything looked great to me: your heart was beating fast, your limbs were still all there, but the tech told us to go wait in the midwife's office so we could talk. Apparently the cord was wrapped around your neck. You were still getting enough of what you needed, but the midwife worried that if I went into labor on my own, you might come too fast and the cord could tighten before I had a chance to get to the hospital. She gave your dad and I the option to come in the following day (July 3rd) or to wait until after the holiday. Daddy and I were in shock...we didn't expect you to join us so soon. After asking a few more questions and hemming and hawing, we opted to wait. After a brief pause the midwife told us she didn't want to wait: we needed to come in first thing the next morning. Less than 24 hours from that moment. A whirlwind of events later, your Grandma Cathie flew in upon a moment's notice to watch Eli, D took the day off work to do the same, and I packed my hospital bag. I remember lying down during Eli's nap, trying to get some rest for the big day ahead of me, but all I could think about was you. With Eli, I had no advance warning like this: he just showed up one morning. This was much different. And you still didn't have a name!! We didn't know if you were a boy or a girl, so we needed two names. The boy name had already been picked out, but we had yet to agree on one for a girl. Due to your size and perfect feet, I assumed you might be a girl, so this really stressed me out. Your daddy left for the airport (Grandma Cathie) around 11:45PM. I remember calling him on his cell phone and saying, "Right now. We HAVE to pick a girl name." After about ten minutes we agreed to call you "Maddux" if you turned out to be pink. I can't believe all of that happened just one year ago today....

Old Photographs

In preparation for Jazz Fest next weekend, Eli and I looked through some old pictures while Maddux napped this morning. It started with Jazz Fest (2006, when he was about 8 months old), but then I decided to show him pictures from when he was born also, since he's old enough to kinda sorta (but not really) get it now. He seems to understand when he sees pregnant women now that there is a baby inside their 'tum-meee', so I started out with a few pictures from the month before he was born. First he told me, "Max in dere!" I reminded him that these were pictures from when Eli was in there, even before Maddux was born. Then we looked at the pictures from the delivery (all G-rated). Eli loved the ones which showed the nurses measuring his stats. He pointed out, "Tape!" right away, as he has his own measuring tape in his toy box. The pictures of him wrapped up in blankets are a bit fuzzy, but he knew it was him, telling me, "Das E-I!!" (That's Eli.) I told him that yes, it was Eli. One night he was in Mommy's tummy and then the next morning he came out. Eli's response? "I dant (want) to do dat again someday, pwease."

And Then There Were Four.....

Finally, finally! We arrived at the hospital at 6AM this morning for my induction. They started me on the (dreaded) pitocin drip around 8AM. The OB on-call checked me and I was still dilated to a 2-3. (He arrived before my midwife.) The contractions kept steady with what they had been all night until around noon. They were consistent and noticeable, but very manageable at that point. The midwife checked me at that point and I was still only a "3", so she broke my water to get things moving a little quicker. Within an hour the contractions became very painful. They started out still allowing me to breathe through them in a somewhat controlled fashion, but around 1:30 or 2PM, everything started to become very painful and very out-of-control (for me). Luckily the midwife came in just after 2:00 and saw a few contractions for herself (I was feeling a lot of pressure at this point - like I might want to push). She decided to have me get back on the bed so she could check my progress. I have never been so happy to hear the number "9" before! The following two contractions were even more intense (I was still on pitocin, which was not helping my pain at all.), and I definitely felt the urge to push by then. The midwife told me if I wanted to on the next one, go ahead and try to bear down. I did and I told her it felt like the baby was coming out. The midwife looked and sure enough, she could see the head crowning. The next few contractions were excruciating, but I remembered with Eli that it had to get worse before it could get better so I kept pushing as much as I could. Thankfully I only had to push for ten minutes before my beautiful baby girl arrived (au natural except for the ever-painful pitocin). Once again the midwife and the doula (Elizabeth) were instrumental in helping me get through it all. Lehr was the biggest help of all though; he obviously learned a great deal from last time and he anticipated any pain or need I had - Thank God for him!!

So to sum up: Maddux Nicole Eliason made her way into our family at 2:44PM on July 3, 2007, weighing 6lb.13oz and measured 19 1/4 inches long. Her feet are straight as can be and she scored 9/9 on her apgar 'test'. I don't see any resemblance to Lehr or myself, but I think she is the spitting image of Eli, especially when he was younger. Eli still isn't so sure about her, but hopefully he'll warm up once she comes home and Mommy is home with him. (I'm still in the hospital, but pictures will, of course, follow when we return home.)

Many people have asked what our name would have been for a boy: Bode James Eliason. We still really like that name as it's one we decided on months ago, so we're keeping it in our back pocket. But I'm not AT ALL ready to talk about having another baby quite yet.

Happy Birthday, Eli!

FINALLY HE'S HERE! Friday night my parents flew into town to join me in waiting for the Hulk to arrive. No contractions or anything Friday or Saturday. We went to bed around midnight Saturday night planning nothing more than church for the next day. However, the Hulk had other plans... I woke up at 2:00am for one of my routine trips to the restroom and my water broke. I called my doula and midwife and they told me since the contractions had just started to labor at home as long as I wanted (or as long as the contractions were at least 3 min. apart), and then head to the hospital. Once they started, they never let up, and they were mostly in my back (lucky me!). I labored on my own for almost two hours and then gave Lehr a wake up call at 3:30am because the pain was starting to get a little intense and I knew I'd want to head to the hospital within the hour. He showered and loaded up the car (by then the pain was very intense), and we arrived at 4:30am. We were admitted pretty quickly and my doula arrived right after us. The nurse checked me and I was dilated to a 7 and fully effaced. The midwife was called and things started happening really fast. I remember not opening my eyes from the time I entered the labor and delivery room until he was born, and I remember screaming a lot. Lehr had to fill in some of the other details for me. There was a time right when I started pushing when the Hulk's heartbeat dropped a little too low, so the midwife paged the doctor. I remember her telling me that she paged him, but she wanted me to deliver before he got there. I didn't, and a c-section was discussed. Fortunately, the midwife had me change my position (several times), and his heartbeat picked up immediately. Unfortunately, I had to push for 90 full minutes thanks to Eli's posterior positioning - that was not fun. I was very lucky to have Lehr and Stephanie (doula) there to help - they kept giving me encouragement from opposite sides of the table throughout the entire thing. Without them I would have never been able to deliver 'au natural'. The Hulk was posterior (sunny side up), which caused a LOT of back labor/pain, but that was nothing compared to the pushing (I think I gave everyone in the room a splitting headache!). At 8:20am I opened my eyes briefly and the midwife said I'd have the baby within 10 minutes; she was right! At 8:28am with one final push, Eli was born. He was very healthy (apgars: 8/9), so they let me hold him right away for about 40 minutes. His feet were clubbed (as expected), but everything else about him is perfect. Lehr and I stayed at the hospital exactly 48 hours before we brought him home.