Anna Danielle's Arrival

Monday, July 1, 2013
Approximately 2:00 am

From the time we arrived at the emergency room in Pittsburgh to the time they admitted me and wheeled me to the delivery room is mostly a blur for me.

The whole event was...and still is...so surreal to Eddie and I. I just told Eddie tonight as I am writing this that sometimes I have to look up at our fireplace mantle where we have all of the gifts, pictures and Memory Box in remembrance of Anna to remind me that it all really happened. That it wasn't just some horrific nightmare.

As I laid in the emergency room bed, I think I was in some state of shock from what was happening. I did not expect any of this and it seemed like the more the doctors and nurses told me, the more my mind shut down.

I didn't want to hear any of the things they were saying to us.

"You're dilated to 5 cm now."

"You will be delivering your baby soon."

"We'll keep you as comfortable as possible."

"There's nothing that can be done to stop your labor at this point."

"We can't resuscitate the baby unless she's at least 24 weeks.  Her lungs just won't be developed enough to survive."

"I'm so sorry."

We were at 23 weeks and 1 day.

All I could do was stare at the doctor as she tried to explain to me what was happening...what was going to happen. I just couldn't accept all of this.  It just couldn't be for real.

I do remember that I kept looking at Eddie, who stood there completely helpless, longing for him to tell me that everything was going to be okay.  All that kept playing over and over in my mind was, "It's too soon. It's too soon. It's too soon."

Are You listening, Lord? It's too soon.

Please don't let us lose our baby.

Once they transferred me to the delivery room, it was pretty much a waiting game for 24 hours. They kept checking me and I stayed at 5 cm for the longest time. They kept waiting for my water to break, but it never did.

I had barely any pain all day Monday.  And nothing was happening. I kept thinking that maybe they were all wrong and that I was going to get to go home...with the baby still in my womb.  I would've laid still at home for 4 straight months if I had to in order to keep her with me.

And then the thought occurred to me:  If I could just keep her in for a week or longer, then there would be a chance that she could survive.  Help me keep her in, Lord.

So we waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

I was surrounded by a huge support system.  Eddie wouldn't leave my side unless he knew that someone was with me so he could go lay down on the couch in the visitors waiting room to get a little sleep. My mom, dad, sister and two of my best friends (one was Anna's Godmother) were with us the whole time. I was never alone. The nursing staff was so impressed with the way my family and friends stayed by my side.  What a blessing they were...

They sat with me, sang with me, prayed with me, fed me ice chips...and waited.

Anna's Godfather even stopped by after work that evening and brought Anna and I two beautiful peach roses. The priest from our Parish came to be with us for awhile in the afternoon. He prayed with us and even got to hear the baby's heartbeat.

The nurses kept checking the baby's heartbeat every couple hours. It was always strong. In the 150's.

The whole time, Anna kept dancing around inside of me...just as she had been throughout the entire pregnancy.  She was such a mover. But this time, with each movement, I felt like she was trying to tell me that she was fine. Then my hope would rekindle that maybe we would get our miracle and take her back home with us, safe inside.  We knew a lot of people were praying from our community.  My facebook page was blowing up from all the encouraging messages of hope and prayer.  Our Pastor told us that everyone at morning Mass was lifting us up in prayer.

Please, Lord, help me keep her in.

At some point in the wee hours of Tuesday morning, I moved to 7 cm and stayed that way until the day shift nurses arrived. But around 6:30 am, the contractions were coming hard and quickly. One minute apart.

7:30 am. 9 centimeters.

It was time.

We were not going to get our miracle.

Where are You, Lord? It's too soon.

Suddenly there was a whirlwind of activity around me.  The room that had been quiet for over 24 hours was now filled with people.  Doctors and nurses everywhere.  Even a team from the NICU--just in case there was a chance that the baby could survive.  Instruments and tools were being prepared for delivery.  The room took a new shape as tables were being pulled out of what we thought were drawers.  Bright lights were now shining down on me.

My mom was on my left side and Eddie was on my right, comforting me and encouraging me. The doctors were telling me it was time to push.

 Where are You, Lord?  It's too soon.

I pushed anyway. And at 7:57 am, on Tuesday, July 2, 2013, Anna Danielle Shultz came into this world without a sound.  No crying, no screaming, as I had imagined in my mind when I would often daydream at home about how it would be to deliver my baby girl in October.

They cleaned her off as quickly as they could while the team of doctors were checking her.  My mom was right there with them, and she put a little pink hat on her head.  They then wrapped her in a blanket and my mom carried her over and handed her to Eddie while the doctors were finishing up with me.  He then brought her over to me and laid her on my chest. I held her, shaking like a leaf.

She was absolutely beautiful.

Perfect in every way.

My mom and Eddie baptized her while I held her in my arms.

As Eddie traced the sign of the cross on her with holy water, together, we proclaimed:  "Anna Danielle, I baptize you in the Name of the Father...and of the Son...and of the Holy Spirit."

Amen.

She was claimed for Christ.

She had taken only three breaths, but her heart was still beating. And every once in awhile I saw her move. She looked so peaceful. I was relieved knowing that she was not suffering.  And it occurred to me that she would never suffer.  Not for one moment.  She would always be with our Lord in Heaven, singing with the angels instead of her mommy.  No disappointments, no temper tantrums, no boo-boo's, no heartbreaks.  Although I would give anything to be able to comfort her throughout all of those things.

My daughter will never suffer.  She has only known love and will only know Love for eternity.

They let us hold her for as long as we wanted. When my dad, sister and my two best friends came in, we all took turns holding her. The nurse on duty took some beautiful pictures of her with us. When they measured her, she was 1 pound, 3.3 ounces and 11 1/2 inches long. She had beautiful, long fingers...which I imagined would have been perfect for playing the piano.  Her fingernails and toenails were developed beautifully.  The first thing Eddie noticed was that she had my nose.  A turned up little nose, like Mommy has always had.

And she did. She looked so much like me. I was in complete awe of her.

What a miracle.

As I gazed at her with love and admiration, I felt the Lord's presence so intensely. He was right there. With us all along. And I knew that He had Anna safe in His arms, even as we held her frail little body.

And He always will.