Avery Jane Gillon was born November 10th at 6:28 pm in Hershey, Pennsylvania. Weighing an OCD 8 pounds even and exactly 20 inches long.
We had been waiting patiently for her almost a week over her due date. Looking back now, I had absolutely no idea what I was in for. What changes to my heart, body, and soul were in store. How much one day would change my life. I still don’t.
After having so many scares with preterm labor, she sure decided to dig her heels in (or toes, I kept feeling those little things wrap around my ribs as if a last attempt to not slip out). My mom flew out on Wednesday and we were thrilled to have a little time together before little miss decided to show up. When we drove away from Utah in June my belly hadn’t even begun to pop out yet so no one in my family had ever really seen me pregnant. We shopped till we dropped and toured the area for a few days and still no sign of Avery. Every day we walked more and more and hoped as the contractions picked up that ‘today would be the day’.
She was scheduled to be induced Sunday morning at 6am and decided to be a prompt, or rather early little gal. Saturday night we all stayed up having girl talk and hung out. Matt’s brother even happened to be here so it was a full house of good laughs. Finally we all decided to get some sleep before the big day. We crawled into bed and tried to get doze off.
I’d been having hard, sporadic contractions for a few days. And I dreamt I was in a hospital bed being hit with harder labor pains. At some point in the night I realized these were real, hard, consistent contractions. I thought about waking Matt up, but we had been to the hospital two nights before and I had only been dilated to a 2. I knew it would take time, and decided to wait it out at home in a comfy bed. I slept (or tried to) between contractions, but kept waking myself and finally Matt up from moaning. At about 2AM they woke us both wide up and he asked if I wanted to go to the hospital. I told him I’d like to wait it out at home a little longer (since I knew first pregnancies are especially long) and said I’d try to wait it out till 6 for our scheduled appointment. At 4:30 however, we were done waiting and woke up our moms.
We got checked in and ready to go. It was one big blur, IV, paperwork, and a bazillion questions. The contractions went on and about 6AM they finally checked me to see the progress. A 1 they said, if that. And I seemed less effaced and further back with positioning. WWHHHAATTT? I was REgressing, not PROgressing. They guessed maybe midnight for the delivery and prepped me mentally for the now possibility that I would need to have a C-section instead. Talk about disheartening.
‘Okay’ I kept telling myself. ‘At least she will be here TODAY, just hang in there one more day’. They gave me a pill to pick up the contractions before giving a round of pitocin. And then they let me be for a few hours. At first I felt strong, I could do it, matt held my hand and I could breathe through them. After a few hours though they had picked up and were getting to be miserable. I had decided beforehand to have an epidural with this pregnancy and was reaching my limit and ready for some help. I went from being present, to somewhere else. I closed my eyes and just tried to endure laying there. They were infinitely worse whenever gravity played its part sitting or standing. I had a rag over my face and just tried to detach myself and endure. I could feel different hands come and go. My mom slipped hers in mine so Matt could grab a bite to eat and be there when I needed him most. My sweet father-in-law took over when she went to talk to the doctors. So many loved ones stood by and supported.
My moans went from mild and soft to hard and louder. I didn’t know how much more I could take. ‘Midnight?!’ I kept thinking. Could I really make it? The anesthesiologist finally came in. He didn’t speak much english, but the one thing I understood was he was eager to help. I just had to be checked. It gave me a glimmer of hope. A little longer is all I needed.
My contractions had stopped having breaks. My baseline was HIGH. There was no let up. It went from bad, to horribly bad every few minutes. The doctor(s… a teaching hospital) came in to check me and started whipping off the blanket in the middle of a horrid contraction. Apparently I belted out ‘don’t touch me, please, don’t touch me!’. I remember thinking in my head that I just needed to get through this contraction before I would allow any fingers anywhere else. But after having said nothing in a while, I surprised everyone in the room. The doctors got a little in my face and explained it wouldn’t get easier and dove in. A four. At least I was making some kind of progress. Hadn’t they said that I could get an epidural at a four? But then my bubble burst. They said they wouldn’t give the epidural yet and would be back to check in a few hours.
SERIOUSLY?!
I lost it. I started bawling like a baby. I was at the end of my rope, and I felt like I had dropped… How on earth could I do it? I have never felt closer to my savior than I did on that Sunday evening. I kept thinking of the Savior pleading for the bitter cup to pass from him, knowing that if it couldn’t, he would swallow it anyway. Before coming to the hospital, Matt had given me a blessing. A line in it said that motherhood was a form of the atonement. Suffering to give life. I am so grateful he was there. Only he understands those dark moments. He has been so much lower.
I couldn’t stop crying. I felt inconsolable. Until Matt crawled into bed behind me and wrapped his arms around me. The tears kept flowing, but the overwhelming blackness was cut with a candle. He was there. I wasn’t alone.
I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t pray, but the words ‘please’ and ‘help’ kept coming out and I knew Heavenly Father knew the emotion behind it.
My sweet loved ones went to talk to the doctors. We were confused. Hadn’t the anesthesiologist said he could help? Why the hours? They found he and the doctors fighting in the hall. I guess what it came down to is the doctors had many cases where the epidural had worn off right before the end, game time. And they were determined to wait to make sure I had it when I needed it.
Makes sense. And I admire them. But I honestly felt like I couldn’t make it NOW….
They gave me a few shots of Morphine and Matt and his Dad gave me a blessing. I was there but I went somewhere else. I sat in a rocking chair and spent a few hours with the Savior. He has never felt so much like my older brother. He was right by my side.
They came back in (FINALLY) and gave me an epidural at about 5pm. I blacked out at that point and don’t remember anything until waking up with a whole new energy. The epidural was only working on my right side, but I could do this. I joked that I was ready to play cards and everyone was shocked. What a night and day difference. I could still feel everything on my left side, but somehow it didn’t bother me anymore. I felt strong. Everyone came in and gave their hugs until the doctor came in to check me. A ten. I was ready.
They broke my water and things escalated. They found meconium and the dynamics changed. They notified the NICU team to be ready. The room cleared and it was Matt and I, a doctor and a nurse. He was so sweet and strong even though hospitals are hard for him. Finally they let me push. I could still feel everything in my left side. I kept asking their permission to push and they kept trying to slow me down. They told me they still thought it would be hours. After three pushes we were all surprised when she crowned. They hurried to call in the team. Fifteen minutes and two tears later she was here.
Surprise. She came out the wrong way, with her head facing the sky. They explained that it was probably the reason the epidural only half worked and added all the extra pain. She hit a bunch of nerves in my pelvis on the way out. The team swept her away towards the warmer. She let out the sweetest little baby cry and Matt and I looked at each other... Shocked. It finally started to hit. She was here. She was real. She was ours!
I don’t think anything defines it more than the quote
“the cavity which suffering carves into our souls will one day also be the receptacle of joy”
(Neal A Maxwell)
My heart was full. I asked them to give her to Matt first. I've gotten to hold her for nine months and loved every kick and wiggle. I wanted him to have something special with her.
They slid her into his arms and his initial timidness turned into pure love and confidence. He grinned from ear to ear. He was a daddy! And I was a mommy! He slid her to me and my life changed. Her bright eyes looked up into my soul and I instantly felt love and felt loved by her.
I have never in my life experienced such a hole carved by pain, only to be immediately filled to the point of overflowing. I look at pictures of myself from before Sunday, and feel like I’m looking at a different person. My soul is changed.
Our lives will never be the same sweet Avery. They will always be better now that you are a part of them.
Our joy is full.
