Two days before I got the pleasure of meeting my fiesty Violette, I fell deep into a nesting frenzy. I redid our entire house and wiped everything from top to bottom. The following morning, I lost my plug just before we were set to leave for a baseball game 3 hours away with some friends. I begged Micah to let me stay home and continue my nesting. Since a lot of women go another week or two after losing their plug, we decided it best if I go and have fun and take my mind off baby arriving. I was still early in gestation and showing no signs of labor.
We went to the game and had a great time. As we were packing up to leave, my husband’s cousin and I were waiting in the vehicle to head out as neither of us were drinking. I was pregnant and she doesn’t drink. I got out to round up the men who were enjoying the last of their beverages at the tailgate. When I rounded my Escalade, I caught a glimpse of my father drinking a beer. Normally, this would be no big deal right? Except my dad suffers from alcohol induced dementia and was recently released from rehab and 3+ months sober for the first time in his adult life.
I was instantly FURIOUS. Furious with him. With my husband, who was right next to him. And with my friends/family who knew the struggles we had endured with the alcoholism and now dementia..
I walked away from the situation after demanding the drinking stop. I called my sister bawling my eyes out in a whirlwind of emotion. After chatting for a few minutes and calming down, I returned to the vehicle and stated I was leaving now. I asked my husband if he thought what happened was appropriate and should we give addicts their vice? He was speechless because he realized the gravity of what had happened. Another man who was with us quickly began to argue with me, saying that I needed to “let him live”. I fired back with “LIVING is holding your new baby for the first time, living 8s marrying your best friend on top of a mountain and promising love forever, living is meeting your grandchild and remembering it, living is holding your child as she leaves this world, boy, had I never felt so ALIVE in the worst way, living is NOT enjoying a drink at a game when you’ve lost your mind to alcohol.”
In that moment, I began to contract. This time, I knew what this feeling was. I always back labor and I had sent myself into full blown back contractions. As I exited the parking lot, the argument heated up and I became very uncomfortable and ademint I would be dropping myself off at the hospital which was an hour and a half away on our way home.
When we reached the exit for the hospital, everyone was in shock as I took the exit and demanded that my husband have his father meet him where the others’ had left their vehicle so my dad was taken care of, and that Micah return to me. As I pulled up to the entry of the hospital and got out removing my already packed bags from the back, they all tried to talk me out of it. We all, including myself, felt that I was being overly dramatic due to what had just occurred. If you know me, you know I can be dramatic.
But I persisted that I was not going to return to the vehicle, I would go in there alone and they could all buzz off as far as I was concerned. I sat down on the bench by the entrance with all of my belongings and cried. And cried. It was the middle of the night. I was still furios and hurt. I was still contracting but my uterus had calmed slightly, convincing me even more that I was just being dramatic. I went inside with all of my things to go to the bathroom and security asked me if I needed to be admitted. I told him I didn’t know yet and returned to my spot on the bench.
I called my mother in law, who validated my feelings about what had happened and agreed to get ready and come get me. At 5am she arrived and drove me the hour and a half home. She hugged me just before I went inside and assured me everything would be OK. She encouraged me to get some rest because this baby was coming soon.
I layed down next to a snoring Micah and as I did, my water burst. I had not yet slept and here I was waking him up to return me to the hospital I had just left. His dad came to be with my dad and group home clients and his mother met us on the way to deliver Micah’s father-to-be care package she had put together for our hospital stay.
As we arrived in the city, I began to contract again. It was definitely time. We got there and they were so busy, we spent over an hour in labor and delivery triage. Yet again, I was laboring on an uncomfortable cot, after an exciting experience.
Micah handled my labor like a champ and was supportive the whole time. He helped me through labor and pushing despite his very weak stomach.
Four hours after arriving, I delivered Violette, she latched right away. I was overwhelmed with gratitude at such a healthy, beautiful girl! I couldn’t believe I got to have this, I had spent many years believing I did not deserve the blessing I had just been given.
As I handed her to Micah, I saw the aw and wonder at his new baby girl. I fell in love with him all over again in that moment as he stared into her bright beautiful eyes and spoke the kindest loving words to her.
Although she came early, she was so healthy. On the second day, her Billirubin levels were elevated. With my history in the NICU, they decided they would not take her there, rather bring the NICU to my room. They brought the incubator in and she stayed under the light for 24 hours while I sat right beside her with my hands in there and taking her out often to nurse.
We went home the following day with a Billi Blanket but being August, I spent most of the following days sitting outside in the sun holding my gorgeous baby girl.
Post-partum with Violette was easy, yet very difficult. I had 2 male clients in my group home and my father who began another struggle with alcohol. Micah took over my job and allowed me to recover but the stress of the job persisted. Violette and I went on to nurse for more than 2 years right through my pregnancy with Bjorn.
I often wondered if I was meant to go into labor that night, but have discovered that when I lose my plug, I have about 24 hours before labor will begin. Every woman is so different, as is every pregnancy. For me it looks like this: lose plug, 24 hours, water breaks, shortly after comes delivery.
I wouldn’t change anything about Violette for the world. She’s been spunky since her wild entrance into this world and she was given to fill my empty arms and teach me even more about parenthood, love, and patience.
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