Chapter 2: Your Birth Day
The next day was a long one. Somehow the minutes felt like hours, but time also seemed irrelevant. It all just blurred together. Your father was wonderful—he took over communicating with our friends and family. The doctors had given me magnesium for my blood pressure and were carefully observing me. Your dad, always the jokester, said, “Your operations, and I’m communication.”
We met with doctors and nurses over and over again. There were two teams—one OB and one Family Medicine. I kept asking about their reasoning: What are they waiting on? What are they watching for? I also wanted to make sure they were all in agreement with your plan of care. For hours, it was hard for me to take my eyes off the monitor showing your oxygen levels and heart rate. I just wanted you to be healthy and okay.
They hoped I could try for a vaginal birth—we were at a top-rated hospital with all the emergency facilities ready if anything went wrong. I trusted them. They explained their logic carefully and reassured me that they were watching you with great attention. But there were still some scary moments—including one when six people rushed in at once to turn me on my side. Your heart rate had dropped dangerously low. You weren’t responding well to the Pitocin.
I spoke with my primary care doctor on the phone, and she encouraged me to keep asking questions and voicing my concerns. I told the team directly, “I am not emotionally attached to a vaginal birth. All I care about is her being healthy. When will we know it’s safer for her to be on the outside than the inside?” Some women have strong preferences about delivery. I didn’t. I just wanted you to be okay.
It’s hard to feel so out of control. This was not our timeline. You were early. We hadn’t planned on coming in that day and suddenly placing our trust in a room full of strangers. I had to keep reminding myself: God is in control. He’s the one who brought us here. He has a plan—and He’s wiser than me and all of UNC combined.
And you know what? He did have a plan. The waiting gave the doctors time to administer two steroid shots for your lungs—shots that would make a huge difference. You never needed anything more than room air and were only on a CPAP for a few hours. The respiratory therapist couldn’t believe it. And I don’t think it was long after that second steroid shot that they decided to move forward with the c-section. (Again, time felt blurry.)
What we didn’t know then was that I had a 9 cm fibroid in my uterus. One of the medical professionals told us it was about the size of a peach. A friend lovingly called it your “buddy,” and we ended up naming it James, after James and the Giant Peach. That fibroid likely limited your movement and contributed to your small size. But you made it. You’re here. You’re healthy. You’re safe. And honestly? I’m glad they didn’t find it sooner—because if they had, they likely would’ve rushed the delivery, and you might not have received both steroid shots.
When the decision was made, they quickly wheeled me into the operating room. The epidural from earlier that morning was still working, but they numbed me further. A barrier went up to shield the view. They cut me open and brought you into the world.
There were so many people in the room we didn’t know. I remember shaking—they said it was normal. And then… there was peace. Somehow I knew God was going to work it out. The anesthesiologist couldn’t believe how calm I was. That’s such a testament to God, little girl. He poured out His peace over us—because we were about to meet you.
And then, a miracle within the miracle—our doctor came to hold my hand. She wasn’t on call, but while making dinner for her family that evening, she felt the Holy Spirit prompt her: “April needs you.” So she came. She stood beside me when they took you out and carried you away. I didn’t even get to see you—except for the quick photos your dad snapped with his phone. I couldn’t get up because of the epidural and the magnesium. It would be 30 hours before I was allowed to see you. But that’s a story for another day.
For now, I want to copy/paste the update I shared online that night with our prayer warriors. Those 30 hours were some of the hardest of my life—waiting to see you, praying you were okay, and trusting strangers with your life. But again, God reminded us of His providence. He was your Great Physician.
My post from social media that day for all your prayer warriors:
I’m laying here amazed at the goodness of God. We’ve had a lot of “moments” ... moments of excitement, fear, confusion, worry. Moments where I looked over to Adam and was just thankful to see him praying. Moments of being overwhelmed by your texts and messages- what an amazing community we have that has surrounded us with prayers and love. We spent a lot of Tuesday with an unclear path. Our doctors were so good to us and shared their thinking and processing openly. Basically we were in a waiting game, waiting to see how my blood pressure responded to the medicine and how Maggie responded to the Pitocin and my contractions. Time marched on and she showed some worrisome signs but then would rally. One moment it seemed like we were moving towards a vaginal birth and another I was quickly told to change positions because her heart beat had dropped to a very scary number. But waiting all that time gave us the opportunity to give her a second steroid for lung development. Finally late in the night our team decided to move forward with the c-section which revealed a fibroid the size of a peach that had been contributing to her lack of growth. We had no idea. God knew. So, all in all, we waited long enough for Maggie to get the 2nd steroid but not too long for it to be an emergency. The c-section lasted a little longer because of that but the outcome is a beautiful 3 lb 6 oz little girl who we couldn’t adore more. We have so much to be grateful for. Please keep praying for -
1. Our doctors and nurses that have gone above and beyond in their competency, compassion, time, and gentleness. Pray specifically for those in the NICU working with Maggie now.
2. Pray for our daughter (I love saying that!) for 3 specific things - her continued breathing development, her weight gain, and feeding. She’s currently getting support from a CPAP with room air but nothing more. Also, I’m hoping my body can “catch up” to what she needs even though we were early at 34 weeks.
3. PRAISE - my blood pressure has been basically back to normal since Maggie was born. But to be cautious they have me taking one more day of medication to support this. For some reason I am SUPER dizzy. Would you pray this would resolve quickly? I’m eager to feel better and work on helping Maggie with feedings. Please also pray for my recovery with the c-section. Overall it went well despite the unexpected fibroid.
4. Also one more HUGE GIGANTIC PRAISE- The rules have changed, Adam can visit her from home after we’re discharged from my c-section recovery!! We just have to come in one at a time and one per day. Woohoo!!! You guys are prayer WARRIORS!
That’s all I’ve got for now sweet friends! Thank you for jumping in and praying!! We are humbled and abundantly grateful you’re in it with us!
April, Adam, and Maggie ❤️
