The day Asher was born is a day I want to remember for the rest of my life. His story is filled with much heartache, but it is sealed with so much love and joy. July 3 is a day I will never forget, nor do I ever want to forget. I want to remember every last detail of that day, which is why this post is so important to me. It may be too much for some to read and that is totally fine. I am writing this for my recollection because this bittersweet day was one of the best and worst days of my life...a day that has forever changed me.
It all started on July 2. I woke up in a grumpy kind of mood, almost like I had a funny feeling that something was about to happen. They say us moms just know these kind of things and it turned out this mom was right. The ultrasound technician could not find any pockets of fluid around Asher, which meant that it was time to deliver our little boy. The doctor came in our room and was overly excited and enthusiastic that we were going to have a baby today. We looked at him with tear filled eyes and thankfully he got the hint and left the room. I struggled with his happiness, I honestly wanted to punch him in the face. Did he not understand what all of this meant? I was only 36 weeks pregnant and delivering our baby meant walking into a whole new chapter I wasn't quite ready to face.
The midwife came into our room with a much nicer and calmer demeanor. She discussed how we were feeling and informed us that we would be admitted to the hospital today. She took care of our every need and was extremely helpful with anything and everything we asked. We were given a large room at the end of the hall, it was rather secluded and away from all of the hustle and bustle.
We were totally unprepared and were expecting that we would at least have time to go home and get our belongings. That wasn't the case at all! So after a quick few phone calls and some text messages arranging babysitters for Micah we got everything worked out! So thankful for family who took care of all the details at home and brought us everything we needed at the hospital. And especially thankful for dear friends who took such good care of Micah while we were at the hospital. I am so grateful for all of you!
This started the long long long day at the hospital. It was around 11 or 12 that they finally started my IV and all that good stuff. After a few mishaps with the IV, the 3rd one was finally secure and in a good place on my arm. A gourmet lunch (Wendy's) was delivered by our wonderful family and we were ready to take on the day.
I had Micah when I was 41 weeks pregnant. My body was not ready or at all prepared to have a baby at 36 weeks, so my body had to play a lot of catching up in a short amount of time. This was not ideal for me or Asher. We knew that the induction could take a long time and it did. By Wednesday evening there was not a lot of progress. Our families were home sleeping waiting for a phone call to come to the hospital.
After many hours of cards and a very restless night I remember looking over at Sam and getting very panicky. He prayed for sweet Asher and talked to our little boy. It had been a while since I had felt him move and because of that I was starting to feel extremely anxious. We chose not to have a fetal monitor during delivery because it would have crushed us knowing we had lost him. Our sweet nurse came in and stood by my bedside and held my hand. None of us had any idea what was going on with Asher, but we continued to be hopeful.
At some point in the middle of the night I opted to have an epidural. I was not in excruciating pain, but I was extremely anxious and panicky. The induction was taking much longer than I expected and wanted. I knew the longer it took, the more stress it was putting on Asher. I was worried and tired and it was impossible for me to relax. The epidural calmed me down some and even allowed me to get a little sleep.
The doctor came in early in the morning and stated that the pitocin didn't seem to be working, so they may need to look at other options in the next few hours. I felt defeated and had this funny feeling that we had already lost our sweet little boy. At this point it was so hard to be hopeful because labor had been going on for so long and we knew what that meant for Asher.
Our family was still at home waiting for the call to come to the hospital. We were thinking we would have time to call them when things were getting close, so they could be in the waiting room when Asher was born. Unfortunately, that was not the case.
Around 9am, one of my monitors was beeping because the contraction machine had run out of paper. The nurse came in and that was when Sam noticed a spot on my sheet and mentioned it to the nurse. We were thinking maybe the catheter was leaking or something. My epidural was extremely strong, so I could not feel anything. The nurse peeked under the blanket and stated that she was going to go get the doctor. We did not think anything of it. When they came back in our room, our world came crashing down on us. The doctor said, "You are really numb. Asher is here." Our sweet boy was born into the arms of Jesus at 9:09 in the morning on July 3. He weighed 4 pounds 3.7 ounces and was 18 inches long. He was absolutely beautiful. He was and forever will be our sweet little Asher. And we will forever be his mommy and daddy.