When revisiting memories and seasons of life, you feel things again. Today is my precious Autumn's first birthday, and I have been reminiscing a lot about how she came to be here with me. It's not the easiest thing to relive. Though I see abundantly more of God's faithfulness, I can still feel the fear, pain, and sadness that accompanied my pregnancy with her. My pregnancy with her was of course a surprise, as seems to be the trend with babies around here. My birth control efforts cannot stop the Lord's will. It was fun and exciting to be pregnant again. I was ready for a worry-free, easy pregnancy and birth since there was only one baby this time.
It started like any other pregnancy, tiredness and lots of sickness, but that's just part of deal. My family took tremendous care of me, and we were so eager to welcome a new baby into our family.
After we learned we were having a girl, we had the hardest time finding a name. We wanted it to be sentimental as our others are. One night on a date, it hit me. Autumn. When my husband proposed to me, that was the name of the song playing in the background. Thanks, Ben Rector!
Early in the pregnancy we found that I had placenta previa. It wasn't the easiest diagnosis, but it can sometimes fix itself. Though we were hopeful, the condition did not improve, and we kept getting bad news.
We brought our twins to one of the ultrasounds; they were super invested in Autumn's little life and wanted to see her on the tv. After a while, the ultrasound tech asked my husband to take them out so she could perform a more thorough scan. From the look on her face, I knew there was something wrong. It was a long wait until my next OB appointment for my doctor to explain what she had found.
Not only was the placenta still presenting too close to the cervix, but there was also a vein growing across the opening. My doctor sent me to a specialist, and we had many more ultrasounds to try to figure out what was going on. The conclusion was that it was definitely a vein, but they were unsure if it would be life-threatening to Autumn or to me.
If ruptured, it could either lead to Autumn losing oxygen due to lack of blood flow from the placenta to umbilical cord, or I could have major hemmoraging. Any type of pressure, like Autumn moving or her head dropping or contractions, could put stress on the vein. There would only be minutes for intervention.
I remember sitting in the parking lot thinking, I don't even know her yet.
If I am completely honest, as only three people in this world know, I had a deep feeling that it was going to be me in danger, me dying. This is very hard to admit. I didn't tell my husband for some time. I wasn't fearful or scared, I just felt that it was going to be. I started trying to prepare the house and my family for life without me, dropping hints to my husband about how we did things or different things the kids were going through. My husband eventually asked me what was going on, and we had a long, hard, emotional conversation.
From that point on, it was our goal as a family to know Autumn and celebrate our time together as a family. I began praying for God to reveal her to me, that I could have an understanding of who He created her to be, even if I never got to experience it.
It was kind of amazing how He showed her to me, and when I say these things, if you know her, you might think I'm lying. When I pictured her I saw color, deep and vibrant. I saw long, dark hair with dark eyes. I knew she was silly; I would chuckle to myself as she moved inside of me knowing she was having a grand time in there. I knew she would be a peace-maker. And if you've spend five minutes with her, you know this to be true.
One weekend I ended up in the hospital because of bleeding. It was scary. My husband was out of town, at a cabin with little cell service. My mom and sister had come to spend the weekend with me in case I needed help, and I am so thankful for that. After a couple days the bleeding subsided, but my numerous contractions did not. I left on bedrest.
The weekend of my hospital stay, I was supposed to have maternity pictures taken. I had been looking forward to these with so much anticipation. It was one of the ways my husband and I wanted to celebrate our family. Without my knowledge, he rescheduled them. Though we knew the risk of moving around, we took 30 minutes to snap some quick photos, my husband basically carrying all my weight. For me, these could be the only pictures of my daughter and I. The only pictures of us together. It could also be the last pictures my husband had with me. We felt we didn't have much time together left and wanted pictures that would be treasured forever, and they still are.
We prayed hard those months. I sang "Great is Thy Faithfulness" at least 10 times a day. Slowly, that feeling of death began to fade. You may think I was just panicking and over-reacting, but it was something in my heart that I knew to be true, and I do feel like it would have happened without the Lord's intervention. I discovered so much about myself and my marriage and family during that time. Eventually, I felt that I just didn't know what would happen, but I was trusting.
It came time for my c-section at 36 weeks, early to prevent any stress on the vein. I was terrified. If you don't want to hear a story of c-section gone wrong, stop reading. I felt almost everything. It was excruciating. I would naturally birth twins 100 times before I volunteer for a c-section. I was crying in pain, asking why it hurt so bad. They offered to sedate me, but nothing was going to keep me from meeting my daughter. When she was brought to me, she was beautiful. Head full of nearly-black hair, weighing over 7 1/2 pounds at 4 weeks early. My miracle. After a few minutes, she needed to have her check-up, and I begged my husband to go with her because I didn't want her to feel alone. All I remember is watching them walk out, then nothing. I woke up almost an hour later, they told me. Everything had gone fine, except the pain. Autumn was healthier than they could have imagined, and the vein was found before any complications could arise.
Great is Thy Faithfulness.
Now, my Autumn is one. She is silly and sweet. She brings peace and joy wherever she goes. I am beyond grateful for this year we have had together. Autumn, my harvest.