My nose felt like someone was tickling it with a feather.
but...
the pain subsided.
Then I fell asleep.
(I have a very LOW tolerance to medication)
(SIDE NOTE: this only re-enforced my feelings on a)
(non-medicated labor and birth process)
11am
Anesthesiologist was available and came in to give me the epidural.
OUCH!!!
(Again... still in favor of natural birth!)
12pm
I asked the nurse to check me because I was
CERTAIN
that I was progressing!
...
Nope.
100% (yay)
stiiiiil sitting at a 2.
I was discouraged and scared.
My fear was that this delivery would end in a c-section
which would virtually end my chances of ever having
a natural birth ever again.
But both the nurse and Dr. Covey assured me
that they were in no hurry and that
it would be okay.
With the epidural set
I tried to get some more rest since I wasn't allowed to get up anymore and I figured it would take my mind off of the situation.
2pm
Woke up feeling contractions and pressure.
{So that means Epidural had worn off.}
Called nurse to let her know
so she checked again.
100% and 2.5cm.
SERIOUSLY?!
Scared and angry and everything in between.
I was losing my grace at this point.
I wanted to get off that bed,
go home,
and forget that
{ANY}
of this had ever happened.
3pm
Really feeling pressure.
Didn't want to call the nurse because I
didn't want her to tell me I still had made no progress.
So I just stayed quiet, focused on my own through contractions, tried not to be obvious about how I was feeling, and didn't say anything to anyone.
4:00pm
Apparently it was beginning to show on my face.
Mom, Sabina, and Evan all zoomed in and asked what I was feeling.
I just told them
Lots of pressure,
Kinda feeling like she's
{REEEEEAAAALLLLY}
low.
They all said
"Call The Nurse!"
{I swear it was like they rehearsed saying it in unison!}
4:15pm
Called nurse in.
I told her that I felt like I needed to push.
She very kindly said,
"I checked you only two hours ago and you were still at 2. I don't think you're quite there."
But she checked me anyway.
4:30pm
Then she said
"I can't find your cervix"
with a very confused look on her face.
All the while with each contraction
my body was pushing.
No stopping it.
No slowing it down.
It. Was. Pushing.
Nurse very briskly left and on her way out said to everyone in the room
"If you're not going to be in here for the delivery, leave now!"
{very kindly, mind you.}
4:40pm
I started to panic.
"I'm not ready. I can't do this."
"This can't be happening."
"I want to go home."
But it was time.
I had to do it.
It
{WAS}
happening.
4:45pm
I can hear Dr. Covey
{literally}
running down the hallway.
She blasted into the room
put on a glove faster than I could say
{"hi"}
Tried to check me and said
"Oh!"
4:50pm
Threw on her face shield and cover and said,
"It's time sweetie. Give me a good push."
Contraction hit.
I pushed.
4:53pm
And there she was.
Limp.
Quiet.
Eyes (appropriately) closed.
In that moment all I could say was
"Look at her."
Those words had
{SO MANY}
meanings in that moment.
I was overwhelmed by her lifelessness.
But I wanted everyone to see her.
She was immediately placed on my chest
where she stayed for the next
two and a half hours.
Daphne Grace Daggett
February 29, 2012
4lbs 11oz
19 1/2 inches long
11 1/2 in head
A head FULL of black hair
She looked more like her sissy than I ever expected.
We learned as soon as she was born the cause of her death.
She was an active little lady from day one.
The umbilical cord was wraped once tightly around her neck then stretched down her back to her left ankle where it was sutured so tightly that Dr. Covey could barely remove it.
Dr. Covey stated that in all her years of practice she'd never seen anything like it and was pretty baffled.
Between 2-4% of all stillbirths are caused by cord accidents.
We just happened to be the very unlucky few.
{the good news in this is that there were no defects with me or Daphne. That is a good sign for us trying again in the future.}
Our family and friends that were there
came in to see her.
To say hello and goodbye in the same breath.
The nurses took her to get her dressed.
We weren't able to bathe her like we had hoped
because her skin was already so fragile.
Nurse Kim
(who wasn't scheduled to work)
came in on her own time so that she could be with us and Daphne and be a part of this journey with us.
We are
{SO}
incredibly blessed to have had the
{MOST AMAZING}
nursing team.
Daphne looked perfect in the little outfit that
Evan and I had bought for her.
The hat I made actually fit.
And her little sockies matched.
Evan and I had some quiet alone time with her for another 2 hours or so. I wanted with all my heart for her to just wake up.
To open her eyes and stare at us.
But she didn't.
The nurse took Daphne
{when we were ready}
but assured us that if at any point we wanted to see her
that they would bring her to us.
We tried to sleep.
I was afraid to sleep.
My tummy was empty
my heart was broken
and I felt as though I had been robbed.
Thursday:
A few more people came to visit.
We did not have Daphne back yet that morning.
The nurse came in and we decided that we wanted to say goodbye
one last time.
I was so afraid to look at her face because I knew time would only make the appearance worse.
Her small, lifeless hand was uncovered
so I held it
kissed it
and really didn't want to let it go.
About 10 minutes later the man from the funeral service
came for her.
That moment gutted me.
I was letting her go away.
With a stranger!
I wanted to run after him and take her back.
We slowly
and
quietly packed our stuff
and left the hospital
empty handed.
I went home and went to bed.
Friday:
We had a small service with our close family and friends.
It was quiet.
It was small.
It was perfect.
We praised God for his blessing of Daphne.
We mourned deeply our loss of her.
We spent our time being together.
I won't say
~the end~
because
friends, it's merely the beginning.
Daphne changed all of us.
People she never had the privilege of knowing
have been changed by her.
The Lord used her
in all her
{tiny glory}
to move mountains that I never believed could be.
My heart was filled by her.
I long everyday to have her back but I know
that she is in the arms of a Father
that will care for her for all eternity.
And that makes my heart lighter.
I want to thank each and every single person
who prayed/is praying for us.
Please continue.
We need it.
Evan, Eden, and I
{and our families}
have been so deeply touched by the love and kindness
that has been poured out to us from all of you.
As we begin this lifelong journey
we trust that God will use us.
We trust that this experience will be used to glorify Him.
And that one day, we will get to see our Sweet Daphne
If you have found yourself on the journey of pregnancy or infant loss, I encourage you to join this blog. A community of families that know the journey well.