Ray and I had a plan for this situation. We would only wait 1 minute to
try getting a response from our baby if it was not breathing on its
own. At that point we would call 9-1-1.

Ray said he didn’t think we even waited a minute before I ordered the call



.

I continued to rub and talk to her and work on getting her to respond.
I noticed her cord was not very long and began to wonder how long she
may have had trouble. Was it the passage through the birth canal or
before? I continued rubbing, patting, talking to her, blowing in her
face, messing with her feet, and got 2 gurgles out of her, but no
breath. We kept her attached to the placenta so that I could keep her
alive, but time was running out on the life of my placenta.



I could hear the sirens in the distance. Thank God they were only about
3 minutes away, but I was still terrified that I was losing my baby. I
looked at Ray and thought, "We got our girl and we are losing her."

I looked down at the umbilical cord and it appeared to be white by now.
Thank Goodness the EMT's arrived so quickly. I grabbed a towel and
wrapped it around me while my husband talked to the EMT's that
responded to the call. I am certain they thought we were crazy as they
asked questions as to what we were doing and what was the thing in our
kitchen.

There must have been 7 people piled into my kitchen. There was also a
sheriff or 2 and I wondered if I was going to jail for medical
negligence.



I handed my baby to an EMT and he prepared to cut the cord. I asked if
they had O2 with them. One man said "yes" and the next thing I know my
baby and I were no longer connected.

An EMT, named Jimmy, was instructed to take me into the living room and
he began to ask me some questions. I was having a hard time focusing
because I was trying to hear what was happening in my kitchen and how
the baby was responding. I heard a voice say ":Cmon girl!" I shut down
at that point. I thought she was dead.



While all this was happening, my husband was calling our pastor and my
inlaws. Also a phone call came in that was a girlfriend that saw the
ambulance race up to my house.

It was very busy and there was absolutely nothing I could do to help.

I had a strong afterbirth pain and Jimmy asked if I was rubbing my
uterus and I said "No, I am not really thinking about me, but my baby".
About this time, they take my baby on a stretcher to the ambulance and
rush to the hospital. They said she was breathing and that was all I
knew.

Jimmy began to rub my uterus and it made me feel uncomfortable so I asked if I could go to the bathroom and do it myself.

I closed the door and sat on towels and waited quite a while for that
placenta to detach itself from my womb. An ambulance was called to take
me to the hospital. I asked them not to take me to the hospital and
called Ray to bring me some herbs to help me get the placenta out.
Finally after about 45 minutes, I delivered the placenta. Then I began
to cry.

I wonder if there is a drastic hormone change at that point. It felt
good to have the placenta out and it seemed final at that point, but I
immediately experienced great heartbreak once it plopped into the bowl
I had to catch it in.

Maybe now that the work was finished it hit me that my babe was gone and that she may not be alive.

Whatever it was, it brought intense sorrow.

Jimmy was on the other side of the door asking if I was ok. "Yes" I resonded, "just thinking of my baby". I was so scared.

I began to clean a major mess in the bathroom. The EMT was concerned
and also frustrated that I would be cleaning instead of going to the
hospital. I told him that my children were due home from school and if
they were to come home to this mess and no parents, they would be
frightened.

But I was also bleeding a lot, so I remained hidden in the bathroom for
awhile taking herbs every few minutes to slow the bleeding. I knew my
emotions were overruling my body and I did not know what else to do.

Finally the EMT came into the bathroom and I remained on towels so he
could not see all the bleeding. We checked the placenta and then I told
him I would be fine and as soon as I could shower we would go to the
hospital to be with the baby..

So I signed a form of release and he left.

I was grateful for the concern and the help. He was only doing his job,
but he also made me nervous being in such a sacred and tragic event.



I was anxious to take a shower and clean up the mess all over me, but
when I would get up, I would bleed A LOT, so all I could do was sit on
towels and wait. I wanted to be with my baby so badly.

The children came home and my husband immediately detoured them into
our suburban and drove them straight to church .It was a Wednesday and
they would be attending their usual groups anyway, so it worked out
well. On the way to the church, Ray explained the trouble we had. My 13
year old daughter, Rachel, took it very hard. We were all so glad she
was not at the birth after all.

I tried once again to take a shower, but bleeding was still great so I took some shepherds purse and motherwort and sat down.

Just then the phone rang. Ray answered it and my heart gripped with
fear. Rays voice was extremely sober. It was the hospital chaplain. My
husband was gripped with fear.

The chaplain introduced himself and said he was checking on us to see
how we were and then going to get the doctor on the phone. I grabbed a
towel and sat next to Ray.listening carefully to every word.

Ray looked at me and announced that our baby was going to be
transported to the NICU unit about 40 minutes away, but that she was
breathing, crying and seemed to be doing well according to the doctor.

I broke down right there on the floor and cried like I had not cried in years.

I now had HOPE! -I had something to hold onto. My baby was alive and so far she was doing well!!!!

Also this came as a physiological breaking point for me. I was then
able to get into the shower and clean up. I spent time doing some
serious kneading of the uterus to help it to clamp down and slow the
bleeding so that I could go out in public to be with my baby. We made
arrangements for the children for the night and went off to the
hospital.

Ray called our pastor to let him know the hopeful news, and at that
moment I declared her name and Ray didn't even question it. The very
name I fought against was the one that was right. He told our pastor
her name and we were all happy.

Ray stopped briefly to grab some Thai food to go. It had been at least
28 hours since I had eaten food and it was so well received. Thai food
makes you feel loved for some reason. I ate hurriedly all the way to
the hospital.

Our pastor and his wife arrived at the same time we arrived and we
walked up to the NICU together. I was so scared I remember feeling like
I could not breathe. I tried to carry on conversation and keep my mind
off of things, but my body was still reacting. Inside I was shaking.

It had been 4 hours since her birth and the last picture in my mind was
a blue and limp baby with brown hair, chubby cheeks, and these lips
that immediately reminded me of Rays mother.

I loved my baby so much!

After a waiting period and scrubbing up, Ray and I got to go into NICU
to be with her. She had a plastic dome over her head to give her
humidity, oxygen tubes, catheters into her umbilical cord and several
pokes here and there at various parts of her skin. She was screaming.I
was trying to be brave but I cried and looked at her and said" I am so
sorry"……

I felt like it was my fault she was suffering. I wanted to die.

The doctor introduced himself and tried to encourage us any way he
could. He was a small man from India with very sweet eyes and a kind
disposition. He had an accent and when saying words like "therapy", it
would come out "terrapy". He also told me he did not condemn me for
birthing at home, He said that some babies have this problem even when
delivered by doctors.

I thought that was quite a statement. It made me feel like my baby
would get as much care as any other baby and that she would not be
singled out as the baby of the "freaks that tried to play doctor".

Dr Wagle told us they could not calm her down and we thought we would
try the breast to see if she may settle down some, but she was fretful
and would not be comforted. The doctor told us that they were concerned
about seizures if she did not settle down and that they would have to
give her sedation medicine to help her sleep. He described her as
having a migraine headache from the birth and low oxygen. He also
announced her weight at 10 pounds and 9 ounces. Good grief! We never
would have thought her to be so big. WOW! That nutritional plan I was
using worked too good!



They planned to keep her a couple days to monitor her and we were
welcome to come see her anytime unless during shift changes. They
offered us a room at the hospital, but Ray thought we should come home
and at least get a good night sleep in our own bed. So after our visit
with Olivia, we came home. I got to bathe in my herbs and sleep in my
bed.



During the night I was tormented with the thought of her not making it
through the night. I would get on my knees in the bed and ask God to
please help her. Once again her blue and limp body was etched in my
mind and I feared for her life .I had never been separated from my
babies for more than a few minutes after birth. They were in my arms
and often at my breast shortly after birth. This time, my baby was so
far away. I wished it was me suffering and not her. I wished I could
have afforded at least a midwife to tend the birth. So many things
going through my mind that sleep was not easy without her next to me.
Early the next morning I called to check on Olivia and she had been
crying all night so sedation medicine was still not working.

For her first 2 days it was like that. She was fretful and not sleeping well.

The third day I was going to stay home until Ray arrived from work,
then we would go up to see Olivia together. I was like a caged lion by
the end of the day and began to really cry and feel angry. Separation
was driving me crazy.

We went up to see her and since it was later at night, we had to take a different entrance into the hospital. We got lost.

We backtracked our path and found a security officer. He kindly lead us
to the elevators and gave us directions and then told us he hoped our
baby would be fine and that she was in the Lords Hands. Ray and I
looked at each other and began to cry.

The sedation finally accumulated in her body and she was asleep when we
arrived to see her. As a matter of fact it would be 3 days before we
saw her begin to wake up. It was scary and honestly, a few nurses were
scared for her too.

There were many people praying for her, and I held onto every positive
thing Olivia was doing. Even pooping her diaper gave me more hope.

She had brain scans, x rays and heart tests while she was there. Nothing was abnormal that the doctors could tell.

I would go to see her twice a day to keep from the anxiety that would
try to set in. Separation was not good, exhaustion was better!



I had a couple of girlfriends from the online community that were
pregnant. We were all due at the same time and really had fun teasing
each other and exchanging notes on our experiences.

The last 2 women I wanted to know about this was them. I was praying
for them in my labor and thinking of them a lot. I did not want them to
feel discouraged or sad before birthing because of Olivia's situation.

I found out that my pregnancy buddies not only went over 41 weeks like
myself, but also had large babies that had cords wrapped around the
neck. One of the babies had the cord wrapped thrice. I was so happy
that everything was fine with the babes and there was not separation in
their cases, but I still contemplate the similarities we shared that
will bond us for life more than likely.



The sixth day of Olivia's life, I was allowed to hold her in my arms. What Bliss!

I was even given the opportunity to feed her at the breast. She
actually tried to suck, but the sedation was still pretty strong from
days before.

I was the happiest mama on the planet at that moment.

At home, I would grab one of her receiving blankets, wadded it up, and
would hold it close and picture her as I would cry. Her blue and limp
body at birth was still stamped upon my mind.

Now I was holding my pink and fluffy babe. She was still going in and
out of sleep, but having her close to my body was a delight. I would
put her near my face and smell her scent and her breath, It was
different than the smell of my other babies. The sweet newborn smell I
was used to was masked over by oxygen, plastic, and a candy like odor.

Ray had been anxious to see her open her eyes. We would get a quick peak once in awhile.

"Maybe tonite she will take a big dump, release a large amount of medication, and tommarrow we can take her home", we would say.



The next day the NICU unit turned into a zoo. There were 2 new babies
born that needed emergency surgery. The nurses were rushing about. I
offered to leave, but they kindly allowed me to stay with Olivia.

I asked if we could unplug all her leads and monitors so I could sit in
the corner out of the way. I sat there all day holding Olivia, watching
and listening to the different people looking in on these premature
babies with serious problems.

My heart hurt for them.

One of the emergency babies was next to us. The father came to see him
and the look of desperation was upon his face. I cried. Later that day
the mother was wheeled into see her baby son and she was troubled but
exclaimed how beautiful he was. I cried. "God, please help this family."

My situation seemed so little compared to these other serious issues.

I learned that day about NICU and what a help it is for these little
ones. The doctors and nurses were amazing. I also was able to get
Olivia to breastfeed pretty good. She would still fall in and out of
sleep, but she could latch on and get some milk. I had been pumping
previously. To have her using her mouth muscles felt SO good to my
engorged breasts.

The eighth day I was told that if her drug levels were low in her
bloodstream, she could go home. They would be testing her the following
day. I tried not to get my hopes up because she was still pretty out of
it.

But once again I could hold her, stroke her, kiss her and that kept me going.

The ninth day I was so nervous. I tried to prepare myself for bad news in case she could not come home.

The nurse practitioner told me originally that her levels needed to be
at 10 before they would let her come home. Then they changed it to 20
because she was doing so well. The last testing was a 28 and I was not
sure she could rid herself of that much.

Once I convinced myself not to be discouraged, I called. I received the news.

19.1. Woo Hoo my baby is comin' home today. I called my husband and we made arrangements to go pick her up together.

I showered, blew my hair dry, put on a nice outfit and make up. It was a special occasion and I felt like dressing for it.

Of course the nurses teased me when I got there because I looked like a
different person. I was so happy. I signed the necessary papers and
received many hugs from the nurses. Even though such a tragedy
happened, I had such an amazing experience in this NICU. I was in there
so much that I began to build sweet relationships with the nurses. None
of them condemned me for my home birth, at least not to my face. We
gave each other well wishes and soon Olivia was cruising home with her
mama right next to her.



I was so excited to introduce her to my children, that had not laid an eye on her this side of the womb.

My 12 year old son said he was not to interested in the baby because it
was just another diaper to change. I do believe he was the happiest to
meet her when she was finally home.

The 6 year old could not keep his hands off her. He loves to stroke her
head and talk to her. He will kiss her and hold her hand quite often.

My 13 year old daughter took to her like a mother. She is her second mother indeed.

All three of these children are such a help. The toddler is 3 and
jealousy immediately set in. He was mad at me for leaving him at
Grandma's for so long while we ran to the hospital. Then I brought home
a tiny person that absorbed my time. It has taken a few weeks for him
to be secure. At 7 weeks of age, Olivia and the toddler have a
wonderful relationship. When the toddler arises from sleep, Olivia is
the first thing he looks for. They laugh together. He is a watchtower
over her now.

My husband is in love with her. He will say to me that he still loves
me more than he loves Olivia. He thinks of her all the time.

Me….well I am so blessed to have a son with my husband and now a
daughter. She is a beautiful girl with dark brown hair and lovely blue
eyes. She has chubby thighs and face like…..me. I love her intensely
just like I love the other children.

My recovery has been good. At 4 weeks postpartum, I began to bleed
heavier and brighter than before. I talked with a midwife friend that
encouraged me to kick back , rest, and continue using herbs for helping
the uterus to continue to clamp down and return to pre pregnancy size.
She said I was doing too much. I still wonder how a mother with
children is supposed to kick back. Maybe for 2 days, but not for
several weeks.

The first 2 weeks after Olivia's birth, meals were brought over by our
friends from church. That was such a help for me and a real treat as
well. We have excellent cooks in our church. We received 4 lasagne
dinners in that 2 weeks. That was funny to us, but each one was
different and enjoyed. Most people wont complain about lasagne and
definitely not us!.

I could not ask for help again though because people had done so much.
I did my best to be more careful, I discontinued walks with the
children for awhile, and waited.

At 5 weeks postpartum my body felt like it was splitting in half. The
healing at that stage left me hurting and it was so unique. Some days I
felt bruised inside. The bleeding was slowing down to very little and I
was looking forward to being fully recovered.

At the time of this writing I am 7 weeks postpartum and am almost
there. I have slight bleeding everyday, but physically I feel strong
again. It is the mental part that I have trouble with. Waking up at
night is usually minimal with Olivia, but it still effects the mind. I
am pretty spacey sometimes. But my joy is in her as she continues to
thrive.

The very first few weeks of her life, she looked incredibly sad. I
wondered why she looked that way and sometimes felt so bad because the
beginning of her life was so tragic. I would think "I wish I could make
you happy lil darlin".

The first time she smiled at me put me at ease. She knows me well now.
She looks for me , listens for me, and loves to be close to my skin.
And not only me, but she does this with her Papa, that happily changes
her morning diaper and spends time with her as often as he can. He is a
wonderful father.

Will she be normal? According to the doctor, yes, she probably will.
Her behavior appears to be right on the average with other babies her
age. She is already cooing and communicating, especially with the 3
year old.

There are some things that we will have to wait and see. Learning may
be effected. Possibly speech or muscle coordination, but so far she is
perfect.



There are times I am still afraid of losing her. The effects of her
birth still weigh on me. But the blue, limp body is not in the
forefront of my mind anymore. What is on my mind is loving her everyday
and not being afraid to cut back on computer time so that I may enjoy
her. Letting the housework weigh less upon my shoulders so that I can
pay attention to the gift given to me from God.

Olivia……….life I have been given a beautiful life!.



I am an imperfect person that has so much to learn. I make so many
mistakes and am not always certain if I am doing the right things with
my children.

Seven children. People do not have that many children in the days we live in. And it certainly is not an easy road.

My children try me, frustrate me, break my heart…..they also make me proud, give me love, and teach me.

We struggle financially, we live in small houses, we often buy second hand, however one truth is sure.

The blessing I have in my children crowns me with honor and strength and I am fulfilled in the greatest season of my life.