Mommy's Little Shining Star

Dear Reader,

Notice how I didn't write "Dear Sophia"? Well, we went into the hospital Monday morning, per my doctor's instructions. At 1:02pm, I was admitted to the hospital. The doctor had been hesitant to do so, but since I kept having contractions which would make my blood pressure spike into the dangerous zone, I had had nausea which kept me from eating and sometimes drinking anything at least before the afternoon, and since it wasn't necessary for her to stay in for developmental purposes, he decided to go ahead and induce labor. 48 hours and 38 minutes later, our little angel was born. She was 5 pounds, 2.2 ounces, and 18 inches long. Even better, she is still here with us. Here's a picture:

Of course, as anyone who has ever been induced knows, it's not *quite* that simple. Those 48 hours were not a cake walk. They were filled with a mixture of frustration over a lack of contractions or a lack of intensity/consistency, increasing pain/contractions, uncomfortable exams, hand grasping, many nurses, strange and new sensations in many different parts of my body, a wonderful epidural (which, really, was quite a blessing considering my blood pressure wasn't going down into a safer range any other way), love, friends, family, anticipation, worry, and that's not the half of it. At one point, Sophia's heart rate kept dropping then going back to a normal rate. I was getting less and less confident that we wouldn't get to meet her while she was still alive, but she pulled through.

It was frustrating waiting for everything to happen. I would get checked at one point and they'd say one thing, then it would be another, then the same thing as before, then something completely different. For a whole day, not much happened even though it looked like I was headed in the right direction.

Finally, Tuesday night, I got to rest from all the inducing medications and get some sleep (a term I use loosely in this situation.) Wednesday morning, the pitocin drip was started again and things slowly but surely went in the right direction. It was nice to hear the doctor sound pleased for once while he was checking my progress. Around 1:00pm, I was finally at 8-9cm, and 90% effaced (which was wonderful, considering I'd been basically a 5 for a majority of the time before that.) We had just barely gotten the update out when, at 1:15pm, while I was laying still in my bed and holding Charles's hand, I felt a burst inside me and a gush of fluids rush out of my body. Unquestioning, I said "My water just broke." and a flurry of activity began.

At 1:25pm, everyone was ready and all set up; I was told to start pushing. 1:26pm, my doctor told me he was going to do an episiotomy, which I am thankful for. Miss Sophia's head was down but her face was the closest to the birth canal. Either way, in her condition it was safer for her to go through a larger hole than there already was. 1:30pm, our angel was born. Yes, that's a five minute delivery. Pretty good, if I do say so myself.

Shortly after, my grandfather and our bishop were brought in to help Charles give her a name and blessing, something we like to do in our church. It's usually done in a Sunday church meeting shortly after the baby is born, as a 'welcome to the world' kind of thing, but we didn't know if we would have much time with her so we got to do it in the hospital. It was beautiful.

After that, while I was being stitched up, everyone who had come to see her got to come in a meet her for the first time. It was interesting being pretty exposed while all this was going on, but I honestly didn't care at the time. I had my angel. She was alive. That's all that mattered to me.

The time since then has been filled with so many wonderful things, all having to do with our sweet daughter. She has smiled, cooed, and snoozed her way into the hearts of many, many people. We have seen her open her eyes just slightly, heard her let out several small cries, held her tiny hands and kissed her soft, squishy cheeks. She is our little piece of heaven.

She has been with us nearly 3.5 days now. They have not been easy emotionally. I go from happy, to apprehensive, to miserable about the thought of losing her or feeling like a terrible mother because I can't feed her or do the things I want to make her comfortable, but I wouldn't trade them for anything. I love her more than I can express - meeting her just makes me want to make myself as perfect as she is so I can see her again later on. That's the goal. That's what we'll do. Mommy loves her Sophia.

Sincerely,
Lora/Mother to the sweetest, strongest little blessing.