Laila – My Birth Story

I want to send a huge “Thank you!” to all of my readers for their love, well wishes and patience as I take this time to be with my family and relish every waking moment with our daughter. As promised, here is the story of the birth of our newest heart burster, Laila.

LaTisha

I must say that my pregnancy was pretty easy. I didn’t have any sickness and truth be told the hardest part of it came towards the end when she was gaining most of her weight. The majority of my time was spent blessed and happy that a new life was set to arrive. I just didn’t know how much it would change my life forever.

Weeks before Laila was due, which was initially estimated April 3, 2015, we learned that our little princess hadn’t turned in optimal position for birth. She had been in the same position for the last 10 weeks, head under my heart and with her size, it didn’t look like she was moving any time soon. Leading into the last few weeks, each day was looking more and more like a cesarean delivery {which I wasn’t fond of}, but regardless of how she got here, I was ready either way.

By this time I had been having contractions for a week now, I was 50% effaced, driving was too much to bear and my body wasn’t so energetic anymore. I was pretty much over it all at this point. I wanted everyone to be in their own bodies! We had to settle with a cesarean to deliver her in the safest way possible and the doctor assured us everything would be just fine. It was then I realized that, like pregnancy, which is a true faith walk, I had no control over this situation. My concern was making sure my child and I were safe and healthy. The only thing I could do was have faith that everything would go smooth as possible. The date we settled on was March 31, 2015.

The morning of March 31st arrived and I was pretty emotional. I woke up early and wrote to Laila in her journal, as I do every week and milestone, to wish her a Happy Birthday, said my prayers and got ready to head to the hospital. It would be the last time our lives would just revolve around just the two of us. With family in tow and bags all packed, I waddled to the car quietly waiting to get the day started.

After check-in, paperwork, and changed in that dashing back-out hospital gown (who authorizes these things as the standard?!), pre-op had begun. I sat in this room with tons of medical stuff and watched the clock tick away. Every few minutes, I was distracted by a new nurse for various readings like blood tests, a sonogram, blood pressure checks, heart rate checks, you name it, I had it done. The last part of the journey before operation was getting the epidural. Now I consider myself to be a pretty tough cookie, but OMG! I was happy my husband was there to help me remember to breathe, but let’s just say I’m sure I cracked every bone in his hand while they administered the medication (Think Aunt Viv from the Fresh Prince in labor). After a few minutes, I managed to get through it and I was numb in no time.

Once that was done, we were ready for the OR. The room was exactly how you see it in the movies. A lot of blue tarp, lights, cold, metal clanking around and a room full of nurses. My eyes were wide open, hoping not to miss anything, but all the drugs were starting to get to me. I had a classic case of the shakes (side effect of the epidural), I was nodding off, then I was excited, then I was anxious because my husband was outside of the room & I needed him there to calm me down. I had several nurses running around for everything you could imagine. I had no idea what the heck was about to happen.

When my husband was finally allowed in the room, the first thing to do was to talk to about something to get my mind off of this terrible pressure and pain I was told by everyone in life I was about to experience. Yes. Even while I was numb. Out of everything I could have talked about, I started asking him about sports! Medication…go with it. Anything to keep my mind off of whatever they were doing behind that blue tarp. After 6 minutes exactly, the doctor asked me her name. “Her name is Laila”. So immediately I thought it was about to begin. Before I knew it, my husband stood up to see the action and said, “She’s here.” Wait a minute! It’s over? That’s it? I’m still laying on the table shaking like a leaf and I couldn’t see anything. Where is my baby?! Immediately I began asking J a round of questions. “Is she okay?” “Can you see her?” “What does she look like?” Before he could answer, I heard a soft, whining cry. I immediately burst into tears on the table. It was at that moment I knew my princess was alright. Nothing else in the world mattered.

The last couple of weeks have been spent focusing on our new family and this newest addition. This little girl has stolen everyone’s heart!

What makes everything extra special was the fact that my grandmother who passed in 2013 gave birth to her first born on March 31, 1963, who just happens to be my Dad. My grandmother was such a huge fan of my husband and I starting a family and to know that she and I share that special bond will always be in my heart.