Everett Steven's Birth Story
Here we are, the day before my precious son turns one year old.
I'd say that I haven't had a chance to share this story sooner because two babies, SAHM life and so on, but the truth is, my heart just has not been up to the task. I want to share the beautiful story of how Everett came into this world, one of the happiest moments of my life, but I cannot share that story without also sharing the story of Steve's battle with COVID-19 and losing him, the absolute hardest moments of my life. It would be completely dishonest to share one without the other, so I will do my best to share the whole story. It's a long story, but it feels important to share. It's also a counseling assignment and I am a rule follower. 😉 Also..am I the last person on earth to write in a blog? Perhaps.
We found out we were expecting baby #2 on September 14, 2020. We were so excited to grow our family. A little scared now that we knew what we were getting ourselves into (haha), but excited! Our due date was set for the end of May 2021. Rosemary was about 17 months old at that time. She would pat my tummy and say, "hi baby!" every now and then, but mostly she was a bit too young to understand what was going on at that point. I am so thankful for a healthy baby and healthy pregnancy, but I won't lie, it was rough. I started getting sick a few days shy of 5 weeks pregnant, and continued to be sick until around 20 weeks. I would have more "good" days mixed in than I did with Rosemary, but the nausea and fatigue were brutal. At one point, I got food poisoning and was unaware that I was sick due to food poisoning because it just felt like another day. I don't share those details to whine or hope for sympathy--I am just one of many (most?) women who suffer from extreme nausea while pregnant. Praise God for TV and snacks to occupy my very active toddler. After getting over my "morning" sickness, I began to enjoy the second trimester. I'm thankful that I had time to enjoy it, but it wasn't long before I had a slew of other issues. None were severe, just difficult issues that can come with pregnancy; I won't bore you with all of the details. I had one episode that briefly landed me in the hospital that turned out to be cervical bleeding. I was 29 weeks and it was a really scary experience, but thankfully all was well with baby.
When I was nearing the end of my pregnancy, my sweet parents kept Rosemary so that Jesse and I could get away for a couple of days to have a "babymoon". We went to Memphis and got to enjoy some downtime before welcoming Everett. I'm so thankful we got to do that and thankful that Rosemary got that time with her grandparents, because just two weeks later everything changed. We had a birthday party for Rosemary on May 2nd. We were set to have the party at Kiroli Park, but due to the predicted severe weather, we pivoted at the last minute and my parents jumped in to host the party at their house. I realize all of that seems irrelevant, but it was the week that changed everything and is still where I go back to in my mind when I think about everything that happened.
All of these details are not necessary to the birth story, but it is important to me that I write this out and share it. We shared this journey openly as we updated friends and family through Facebook, but this is just my perspective from living it out day by day, taking care of Rosemary and ready to give birth at any moment.
That week, Steve started feeling sick and eventually stayed home from work (reluctantly) for only the third time in his career working with Irby. Mom tried to get him to go to the doctor, but he didn't want to go. Eventually they did and he tested positive. The next day my mom tested positive. The day after that, Steve was getting weaker and struggling with his breathing so they went to the ER at St. Francis. The next month felt like hell on earth. If you know of someone who was seriously sick with COIVD, you know the roller coaster that can ensue. It changes by the hour. It changes by the doctor and their experience and perspective. The world "shut down" because of the pandemic in March of 2020 and all of this happened in May of 2021. At the time I felt like they should know more and do more, but in hindsight there was still so much to learn about treatments and best practice/care. Steve's brother Mike and Jesse went to visit Steve often and I know the visits were good for everyone. I was 9 months pregnant at this point and was desperate to go see Steve. I was told I would be turned away if I tried. I obviously wanted to keep my baby safe, but just felt so helpless since I couldn't see either of my parents, both still testing positive for COVID. Steve was in a normal room, where he stayed for almost two weeks. After many days of gradual decline, Steve was placed in the MICU. It was scary, but we felt a bit of hope that he would be tended to more and cared for better than he was in a regular room. Steve had pneumonia and multiple infections in his lungs and was just terribly weak. He could not breathe without 100% oxygen on a bipap machine. Finally, (and with lots of masking as I entered the COVID MICU) I started visiting him in the MICU every day, at least once a day at that point. Before that, I had been parking outside of the hospital, praying for my sweet dad. Praying for him and pleading with God to heal his body. I got to sit outside of the hospital at one point and a nurse helped him FaceTime with Rosemary and me. It took all he had, but he was so happy to talk to Rosemary. After a couple of short days in the MICU, Steve was placed on the ventilator. I felt so hopeless and broken. Not being able to be with someone you love when they are going through something so hard..it's unbearable. My mom not being able to go be with him because she was so sick. Not being able to comfort him or be comforted by him. It's unbearable. I know we are literally one of millions who went through this, but it felt so intimate and devastating for our family. I still have nightmares about what I saw in the COIVD MICU. Being overwhelmed with my own grief, only to see 6 other families going through exactly what we were, many of them to lose their precious family members too. The staff in the MICU were very kind and compassionate. I'll never understand how they are able to see the things they do and remain compassionate and empathetic. I'm so thankful for them.
My due date came (May 26th) and we were in some of the toughest days of this fight. Being told positive updates by one doctor, for it to all change hours later. We knew the prognosis was not good, but we also knew it was possible to be in bad shape on the vent and eventually improve. So we hoped. Steve spent his 64th birthday hooked up to the ventilator in the prone position. My Uncle Mike brought cupcakes for Steve and the staff. He and I got to visit and talked to Steve (me through the glass). Steve was completely sedated at this point, but we talked to him and we loved on him and we reminded him how much we loved him.
Those last days were the heaviest and hardest of my life. I was a ticking time bomb; I made every person I encountered so nervous with my giant belly. I just needed more time. I could not have this baby right now. I needed to be by my dad's side and help him fight since he didn't have any fight left in him. But, unfortunately, his body could not keep going. We made the absolutely heartbreaking decision to remove the support that forced Steve's body to work and we waited. On Tuesday, June 1st 2021, Steve went to be with Jesus. He was free of the sickness that plagued his body.
Just to give you the whole picture, the morning we lost Steve I was well past my due date. I had an ultrasound that morning to make sure everything still looked good. I was progressing and everything was favorable for labor, but I was just so broken and did not know how to go forward. I went to my appointment for a membrane sweep, met by a nurse practitioner I'd never met and told that my doctor was in Mexico. It sounds silly, I guess, but it just added another complicated layer to this story. I had to spend hours on the phone to determine who would deliver my baby. They scheduled me with a different OB for the following day. This was a very stressful process, because I was in the difficult position of needing to time everything right so that I could be at my dad's funeral. I was able to discuss the delicate situation I was in with her nurses and they helped put me at ease that it would all work out. I am thankful that God is a God of details and kindness. One million things could have gone wrong, but it worked out just how it needed to and I am so thankful for that.
On Wednesday, June 2nd, we met at the funeral home to go over all the decisions that needed to be made there. We went from the funeral home to grab a bite to eat to my last OB appointment. Dr. Pennebaker was so kind and compassionate. She understood our situation and was happy to help us have this baby so that we could be out of the hospital by Saturday morning. I was so dilated that she felt that it would be no issue at all to do a gentle induction. If you know Rosemary's birth story (you can read it here if you'd like), you'll know that girl came into this world FAST. I know that no two births are alike, but I assumed and hoped that'd be pretty similar. Pennebaker sent us on our way and told up to come to the hospital that afternoon and she would meet us there when she was done working at the clinic. I may have some of these details wrong, but I think we went to say goodbye to Rosemary and grab all of our stuff after that. My sweet mother in law was so helpful during all of this. She helped with Rosemary a ton and it gave us so much peace of mind to know she was well taken care of while we dealt with everything else.
We headed to the hospital around 4:00. It was so strange to head to the hospital to do something that requires so much strength and energy when I felt so completely broken and exhausted. We listened to silly music, tried to make each other laugh and did what we could to pretend everything was normal because that felt like the only way to get through. Checking into the hospital went well and before we knew it, we were in a labor and delivery room. Dr. Pennebaker had discussed our situation with everyone and all of the nurses were so kind. One of the student nurses checking on me was asking a few questions about my dad and after she asked his name she said, "..I knew Mr. Steve. He was such a great man." Such a sweet gift to have a random person there (who knew him from his years of coaching softball) have that connection. After being in the hospital for an hour or so, I started having some light contractions. Dr. Pennebaker came in around 5:30. She said that she wanted to break my water and that would speed things up. There was one issue though. She believed Everett would have shoulder dystocia because he was such a big baby. I planned to have an unmedicated birth like I did with Rosemary, but when she emphatically told me that I would not want to deliver a baby with shoulder dystocia without an epidural, I believed her. She told me that I could just let them know when I wanted to get the epidural. She broke my water around 6:00 pm. Intense contractions started less than 3o minutes later. I wanted to wait it out to see how long I could go before getting the epidural. (In hindsight, I really regret this. If I was going to get an epidural, why not get it and avoid the worst of the labor pains? Ugh). I casually told one of the nurses that they could bring that epidural on whenever it was convenient. The anesthesiologist was busy with a c-section, but I was told she would be there shortly. That was around 6:30, maybe? My contractions got so intense that I was sweating, shaking, the whole deal. I tried to convey my symptoms to one of the new nurses who just came on with shift change. She kind of laughed me off as another hormonal woman in labor. I remember feeling so belittled and ignored. I know there is a stereotype about women giving birth, but I was not yelling or doing any of those things. I was trying to understand what was happening because I felt so out of control (and unmedicated). The anesthesiologist comes in around 7:30 or so to administer the epidural.
The next bit is a fast, painful blur. I know now that the shaking, hot flashes and pain that was out of this world, was me going through transition. Not sure why I couldn't recognize it in that moment, but I couldn't. When I sat up to get the epidural, the baby dropped and I started to push. My body does this thing called the fetal ejection relax where it pushes without my help. I tried to tell the nurse what was happening and she laughed me off and chatted with the other nurses. When they finished with the epidural, and things continued to intensify, I finally grabbed the nurse's arm and said, "Look, I know you do this every day and I am just another hormonal woman out of her mind with pain, but I am also trying to tell you that with my first baby, I had the fetal ejection relax and my baby was born very quickly and I'm telling you this baby is coming." She stared at me for several seconds, checked my cervix and then rushed to find one of the other nurses to get the doctor. Everything got super chaotic at that point. Jesse was still out of the room because he had to leave while they administered the epidural. When he came back in, everything was so fast-paced and chaotic. He was a little worried because things went from 0-100 really quickly.
Dr. Pennebaker came in, checked me and said, "oh yeah you're ready to have this baby, let's push." It was a little after 8:00 at this point (just a few minutes after getting the epidural). I was still feeling the contractions, but I think the epidural did help the pain be not quite as intense. It also helped the EFR not make me bear down so forcefully, which I know helped with my recovery. I pushed a few times and then asked Dr. Pennebaker if I could wait for the next contraction, because that is what felt was working best. She told me that's not how they usually did things, but if that's what was working for me then go for it. I pushed as gently, but forcefully as I could with the next few contractions, and then at 8:28 pm, sweet Everett Steven came into this world. He was born with no shoulder dystocia or any other issues, praise the Lord. He was 9 pounds and 3 ounces of absolute perfection. We got to have our perfect golden hour together and just soak in those first sweet snuggles. The combination of sorrow, grief and joy were so difficult to process. As I was giving birth, I was so acutely aware of the precious life we lost. It was just really hard for me to comprehend. I played worship music as I labored and I'm so thankful for those truths sung over us. Good Good Father played as I pushed and wept--"peace so unexplainable." I'm so thankful for the peace God gave us in those moments.
We got moved to our postpartum room and I am so thankful that everything went smoothly with Everett's health and our hospital stay. We stayed two nights and headed home Friday afternoon. I was able to be at the funeral Saturday morning. I was heartbroken to not be able to physically be there for my mom during the days after losing my dad, but I'm thankful that we have a huge family and they rallied in those days (and before and after those days). They loved on her and were there for her and I'm so thankful for that. My postpartum period was so much easier physically, but obviously very different emotionally and much harder than with Rosemary. Caring for my sweet babies everyday helped distract from the heaviness of grief in some ways, but I also just learned how to invite it in and live with it. I couldn't compartmentalize it so it was just there with me, everyday. My sweet Rosemary became accustomed to saying, "you sad, mama?", "you ok, mama?" And Rosemary, sweet girl. One year later and there has not been a day that goes by that she doesn't mention her Papaw. She was confused in the beginning and would ask when he was coming home from his office or when he would be back from Texas. With time, she understands a little more and we try to keep his memories alive everyday by talking about how he did certain things, thing he loved or things he would say.
I know it is uncomfortable for most people to talk about grief. Most people want to ask if you're ok and just hope you give a tidy answer. The truth is, grief isn't tidy. It's messy and painful and deeply sad. Our lives will never be the same; our family dynamic changed forever. I am thankful for those who share their stories with us and I pray that our story can be a blessing to someone. I hope that it can bring glory to God and lead others to the hope we have through him.
"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." -Romans 15:13
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