Loving Little Souls: May 2021

This is a story that is in one way four and a half years in the making, and in another, a lifetime, because for as far back in my childhood as I can remember I dreamed of and looked forward to being a mom; nearly every night of my childhood as I drifted to sleep, I imagined what it would be like, but I never imagined just how hard, long, and rewarding the process would be.

The last four and a half years of this journey are well documented here. The loss of our first three children, our struggle with infertility, our decision and calling to become foster parents, the 5 children who we had the privilege of parenting and seeing safely leave to be with their families. When I was pregnant with Simeon I never knew quite what to say when I was asked if this was my first child; in one way, I suppose so, but in some ways he is my 3rd if you count children in my home for any length of time, my 4th if you count my biological children, my 6th if you count the number of children who I have had in my home, my 9th if you count them all, but yes, in the end, he is my first forever baby.

For a baby who was so prayed for and desired for so long, he sure was quite the surprise. After 3 miscarriages, a clotting disorder diagnosis, and 18 months of failed infertility treatment, we had reached the point of either choosing to stop treatments, or pursuing a route that would require serious financial investment with no guarantees. We decided to take a step back before deciding, we decided to pursue contentment in our current situation and discern where our priorities ought to lie before making an emotional decision. And I came to be at peace with continuing to be foster parents, and knowing that at some point we would adopt through foster care, and knowing that having become pregnant 3 times before, it was likely to happen again, eventually, and that next time, hopefully, we would be able to protect that child from the blood clots that claimed the lives of Brighton, Keelan and Addison. Just two months later we found ourselves listening to a heartbeat of our living child for the first time in nearly four years, it was one of the most incredible experiences of my life, but not quite as incredible as what I actually came here to write about; Simeon’s birth! (Longest intro ever...)

I wanted a natural birth, this is important to know. After four and a half years of pain and heartache, and learning to live through the pain, I wanted to experience every last second of this journey to my forever baby, and I desperately wanted my body to do something right when it came to childbearing. Towards the end of pregnancy I found out that because of the risks associated with covid during pregnancy and their striking similarities to the risks of antiphospholipid syndrome, an induction seemed to be the safest option.

Day 1: Despite my best efforts to go into labor naturally (I did acupuncture y’all, I was determined!), I arrived at the hospital on March 30th at 3:30pm (having stopped and renewed my expired drivers license on the way) to begin the induction process, which meant having a Foley bulb inserted. I’ll let you google that if you want the details, but basically it forces to body to dilate to 4cm overnight and it is not comfortable. Also not comfortable: beds in labor and delivery rooms. In addition to the Foley bulb, I started low dose Pitocin overnight (the drug used to cause contractions).

Day 2: After sleeping poorly, I was roused at 5am by a very strict seeming nurse to shower and get ready to finally have a baby. My amazing doula, Erika arrived, followed by my doctor, and we started the actual induction, thinking that surely I would have my baby in my arms by 5 that evening. The Foley bulb hadn’t done what we needed it to by that point and I started the day at only 2-3cm dilated, an hour later I was able to have the Foley bulb removed and felt a lot better for a bit. At the same time my doctor broke my water, increased my Pitocin levels, and labor really picked up. We managed okay for a long time by walking around, sitting on a birth ball and using the TENS unit Erika brought, and things seemed to be going okay. After a few hours though I started to feel really tired, but kept pushing on, knowing the pain was necessary and was bringing me closer to meeting my baby.

By about 3pm I was absolutely exhausted. I was falling asleep between contractions which were coming every one to two minutes at this point and each one brought excruciating pain, but still, I knew we were getting closer. At some point during the afternoon a nurse checked and told me I was about 5 cm dilated, so we were making progress, even if it was slow. At 3:45 I tried to lay in bed, and continued to fall asleep between contractions which actually started to taper off at this point; my body was so utterly exhausted by this point that it actually started to override the Pitocin and shut down labor to some extent. When my doctor came in to check me at 4:15, we found out that after being in hard active labor for 8 hours, I was actually still only 4cm dilated, the same as I was at 11am. I’m fairly confident I broke down in tears around this point feeling that all of my pain and exhaustion over the last 5 hours had been worthless. We asked the doctor to go over our options at that point, because continuing for hours more wasn’t feasible or at this point physically possible since the Pitocin was as high as it could go and my body was no longer responding to it. After hearing the options from the doctor, I asked for a few minutes to discuss it with Matt and Erika alone, and we were all in agreement about which one seemed to be the right choice, so at 4:30, we stopped the induction, and decided to start again the next morning. Unfortunately I had to maintain my clear liquid diet, so the most substantial thing was able to consume after a long day of labor was broth and popsicles. I think I ate something like that at that point and requested stadol through my IV to help take the edge off the pain as well as help me sleep, and by 6pm I was asleep.

I rested as well as one could expect for still having contractions and sleeping on what was essentially a 3 inch mattress on top of a table. I had the sweetest night nurse who was really compassionate and took wonderful care of me. I was awake for about two hours at one point and honestly had a really sweet time bonding with Simeon, praying for him, praying for me, and trying to mentally prepare to “re-enter the arena” the next morning. At some point during the night Simeon’s heart rate started dropping slightly during contractions, and I had to stay on my right side the rest of the night to prevent it happening.

Day 3: I started off the day by trying to walk and bounce myself into active labor before starting Pitocin again, quite unsuccessfully. I then begged to be allowed to eat something, but that was equally unsuccessful due to the anesthesiologist being very strict about his guidelines; this did not set me up well for success. At 7:30am we restarted the Pitocin and labor took off again very quickly and very strong. My doctor came up to check me when she got into the office around 8, and I was still at 4cm, and I was getting really discouraged and a bit scared. I started to become really concerned that I was going to end up having a failed induction and need a C-section. It was around this point that the word “epidural” entered my mind, and it was all I could think about with each contraction. I was crying and moaning “nooooo” with each one, and the idea of continuing to labor and be in that much pain again all day was overwhelming. I decided to try stadol to see if that might take enough of an edge off the pain to let me bear it, knowing the risk was that I was already tired, and stadol was likely to make me more so, but it was my last ditch effort. The nurse accurately described it as “margaritaville” and I soon found myself half asleep dreaming I was in a field of lavender, watching contractions happen to someone else who was standing against a brick wall. It may have taken the edge off the pain, but the disorientation was just as miserable, at one point I asked Matt to tell me with each contraction that I was NOT in a field of purple flowers, that I WAS having a contraction and that “there was only one room” which, I have no idea what that one was about nor any recollection of saying it, Matt told me later.

The stadol wore off quickly, thankfully, and I overheard Matt and Erika discussing how to bring up the option of an epidural to me. I heard Matt telling Erika that he just didn’t want me to regret it later. I was so relieved to hear them talking about it, I felt like I had the permission I needed to finally voice what I had been thinking all morning; this was more than I bargained for, I wasn’t wimping out if I needed it. I walked out of the bathroom and said “I won’t regret it.” Erika suggested that a we try to make it to noon before deciding on it for sure, I think this was about 11:00. We requested anesthesiology come talk to us since they hadn’t the day before like they were meant to, and I was able to pull myself together long enough to get my questions answered between contractions and feel more at ease with the process. We continued to discuss, and it came down to two things for me; first, I had been in the induction process over 40 hours, and my water had been broken for over 24 of them, and Simeon’s heart rate was continuing to dip with most contractions; the risk of infection or a failed induction or Simeon destabilizing was increasing, if something went wrong and I needed an emergency C-section, I was going to find myself under general anesthesia and miss my son’s birth entirely; the very thing I was trying to fully experience. Secondly, I found myself in the position of actually hating every moment of labor by this point. I was exhausted, I was hungry, I was cranky, I was in so much unceasing pain, I was scared; this was not how I wanted to experience the birth of my baby. And so the decision was made, and I felt confident in it. I chose not to get checked before hand, my mind was made up, and the checks were more painful to me than the contractions, I wasn’t able to make a decision that was going to cause even more pain at that point. Every contraction I had while waiting for the anesthesiologist to come somehow felt even more painful; the purpose of the pain had been removed with the decision to get the epidural. At 11:40 I got the epidural, and it was bliss. I texted my family to update them and said I was hoping to get a nap. I did not get a nap.

It took about an hour for the epidural to be placed and take full effect, at 12:40 the nurse checked me and I was at 8cm, 20 minutes later my doctor came and and decided to check me again while she was there, I was caught on baby’s head and she was able to manually fix it and she pronounced me fully dilated! That process alone made me grateful for the epidural, I can only imagine how unbearable that little procedure would have been without it, we would have had to wait for it to resolve on it’s own because I would have been throwing punches by that point (I had screamed at my doctor during a check the night before, we were all a little afraid of me after that I think, ha!). And so, the pushing began!

It was such a surreal experience, it was nothing like I had imagined it would be like when I planned my natural birth. We chatted with the nurse between contractions, pushed for 30 seconds when one came, and picked back up where we left off. Simeon’s heart rate was dropping significantly with each contraction by this point, but it picked back up as soon as it passed. There was concern, but not panic as long as he kept popping back up. Eventually it started taking a bit longer, and we pushed a ton of fluids through my IV to try to perk him back up and he went back to stabilizing quickly after each contraction again. The nurse was concerned enough about it that when it came time for him to actually be born my Dr. was called out of a C-section to come deliver him, she came in, gloved up, and two pushes later, at 2:18pm, Simeon Azariah Pinckard was born with his cord wrapped around his neck, and was placed on my chest as we cried tears of joy and relief and thankfulness. I turned to Matt and all I said was ‘Four and a half years” and then I just sobbed for a minute while taking in the reality that the child I had dreamed of since childhood, the child I thought may never come, the child we had pleaded with the Lord for was lying safely in my arms. He was mine forever. It was a moment like none other.

A couple days after coming home I happened to place my hand on Simeon’s chest and it was the first time I had felt his heartbeat. Immediately in my mind I was back in the ultrasound room at the fertility specialist hearing his heartbeat filling the room when I was only 7 weeks pregnant. And then I was back in my first OB’s office the day we heard Brighton’s heartbeat for the first and only time. Then I was in the ER as doctors after doctor tried to find Brighton’s heartbeat, and again two days later when our worst fear had been confirmed. Then I was at Keelan’s ultrasound when our excitement had become shocking grief all over again when there was no heartbeat to be found. And I was on the phone with the nurse as she confirmed what I already knew; my levels had dropped and we had lost Addison too. And I felt the heartbeat of my living, breathing, healthy son, and I cried more than ever before, praising the Lord for the life of this Child, and for the certain hope that we have in Jesus Christ’s life, death and resurrection for the covenant children we never held and whose hearts no longer beat, but who we will one day meet face to face in the presence of our savior.

Simeon: God has heard.
Azariah: God has helped.
Pinckard: This child is ours forevermore.

May he also place his trust in the Lord’s help and provision and belong to him for all eternity.