Holland and Harvest’s Birth Story

I love birth stories.

Maybe it’s because I’m a mom myself, and have had quite a few varying birth experiences. So, I wanted to share this with anyone who, like me, also loves (and is blessed by) birth stories. It’s also an opportunity to testify of God’s grace and kindness in the craziness of what took place in the whirlwind of bringing our girls into the world. However—I know birth stories aren’t everyone’s cup of tea. If that’s you, I certainly won’t be offended if you choose to pass on this post. If you’d like a little summary: God was faithful in each detail down to the second, saving the life of one of the girls; the providers were amazing, and we continue to rejoice over His kindness even while we wait for the girls to come home. 

Without further ado, here is Holland and Harvest’s birth story. 

I woke up Monday, June 23 feeling very sore—something aching from head to toe. I was 31 weeks 1 day.

I’d gotten sick the end of the prior week, so I chalked it up to being more weak due to recovering from that. For a little context, it had been several weeks of significant discomfort in my abdomen, pelvis, and in one side over my rib cage. The pressure was causing nerve pain in the connective tissue in my ribs that resulted in excruciating burning especially when lying down, so sleep had been hard to come by for a quite some time. I’d noticed the week before (prior to getting sick) that I was starting to lose my appetite, which usually happens to me near the end of pregnancy. Looking back there were several other “gearing up for labor” details that I didn’t give much thought since I thought I had weeks of pregnancy left. Several days beforehand I’d said to Judah through tears, “I don’t know how much longer I can bear this.” And I found myself increasingly asking the Lord to help me endure the pain and discomfort for as long as need be. I have a feeling a lot of this was my body gearing up to have the babies.

Ok, back to Monday morning. Around 7am I’d just finished breakfast and was moving around supervising the usual morning hubbub. Suddenly I felt what I thought to be my water breaking. I ran to the bathroom to discover it was actually a gush of blood. I ran in to tell Judah, and quickly got on the phone with the doctor. They had me come in immediately. One of our neighbor’s daughters came over right then to watch the kids, which was such a blessing. We rushed out the door to the hospital where we’ve had five of our kids, and had planned to deliver these babies. Once there I got put on the monitors, and began a slew of tests to see if they could figure out the source of the bleeding. It wasn’t immediately apparent, because it seemed to be old (it was very dark), and both babies were doing really well. They wondered if my water had broken, so they did several tests and an ultrasound—some of which came back positive, some negative or inconclusive. The ultrasound also showed that the babies were breech and transverse, so we knew that meant a C-section were things to progress. About 30 minutes after arriving I realized I was beginning to have painful contractions about 15 minutes apart. They checked me, and I was one centimeter dilated (which never happens until I’m full term or actually in labor, which I informed them of). They decided while they were still figuring things out to treat me as if I was indeed in early labor. The hospital I was at doesn’t have a NICU capable of caring for babies before 34 weeks, but thankfully a hospital just 20 minutes away has an incredible NICU, so we began the process of being transferred there. I was given magnesium, which helps protect the baby’s brains and can sometimes slow labor. Don’t worry, if you ever have to receive it you will survive (if you know you know). I also discovered several pregnancies ago that I have some of the toughest skin the nurses have ever seen, which makes getting an IV on the top of my arm very difficult. After several unsuccessful attempts I had IV’s in both my hands, and was off to the next hospital (thankfully a nurse was able to successfully get one in my arm later. Praise. But I still have bruises). The babies continued to look good, even as my contractions and bleeding increased during the ambulance ride. The crew was awesome, and kept me chuckling the whole time. 

Once at the new hospital I was re-assessed. My contractions had moved to 8-10 minutes apart, and I was certain I was in labor (although I didn’t voice it quite yet). I was also at 2cm only an hour after first being checked. There was a short time of deliberation, and still talk about trying to keep the babies inside for as long as possible. But within 40 minutes my contractions moved to 3-ish minutes apart along with increased bleeding, and I was beginning to feel a little panicky about these babies needing to be born soon. Thankfully the doctor on call rechecked me, and I was at 3cm, so she made the call that I was already feeling was necessary: it was time for them to come. They gave me the rundown and wheeled me into the OR, telling Judah they would call him in when I was prepped, and would go over everything before starting. By this point I was beginning to feel really overwhelmed and nervous, and got really quiet. The nurse who’d been caring for me since arrival was helping me through the prep process as well. She could tell I was having a hard time, and was an amazing comforter while they gave me the spinal block. Within minutes they had me laid down and the screen put up, and I heard them say, “Let’s get started.” This surprised me a little since Judah wasn’t in the room yet, and by the time he got there Holland was almost born (in, like, three minutes). What we were told later is that as soon as they laid me down they realized how much I was bleeding, and that it was suddenly an emergency. When they reached Holland (Baby A) they could see she’d had a placental abruption. Her cord was already turning white, and she swallowed and inhaled a good bit of blood. Had it been minutes later we likely would’ve lost her. I can’t write it without tears coming to my eyes—God was so merciful to us.

 It took them a little bit to stabilize her. She was born at 2:35pm weighing 3lbs 11oz. Her sister followed one minute later at 2:36pm weighing 4lbs. Harvest’s placenta was just fine, so it was easier to stabilize her. I was able to sneak some little glimpses as they paused their isolettes near me before whisking them off to the NICU. Judah followed them there. They finished up with me, and moved me back into recovery. I was feeling so relieved—peaceful and joyful, which I know was the Lord’s kindness through the prayers of His people. A little bit later my parents came in, and it was so special and comforting to have their presence there. They’d planned to go be with the kids, but one of our other dear friends had taken over watching them, and told them to come see me first (isn’t that the sweetest?). After the babies were settled in their room they wheeled me down to see them. The room was a hubbub of nurses and doctors hovering over their isolettes, the sounds of monitors beeping here and there. I wanted so much to snuggle them right then and there, but I was so thankful to be able to rest my hand on their tiny, warm heads.

After I was all settled in my own room the doctor came in and gave me the rundown of what had happened (to sum it up, the provider at my two-week post-op check up said, “Holy smokes, I read Dr. C’s notes—you had a wild ride!”). She informed me that I’d had what’s called a hidden abruption, which means it had started days or even weeks prior. After she told me this I remembered that several times I’d had searing pain right in the area of Holland’s placenta, two of which had happened the previous Saturday. Since they only lasted 15 minutes or so and never came with bleeding I figured it was probably a strange form of round ligament pain due to all the extra expansion. After telling her about those instances we both believe it was my placenta beginning to detach. It’s interesting, because during the second of those instances the previous Saturday I felt the desperate need to pray for Holland and her safety. The Lord graciously answered those cries. 

One praise is that if she’d realized any sooner how much of an emergency it was I would’ve been put under general anesthesia, which is way harder on the mom and babies. God orchestrated the timing perfectly. 

A couple of months earlier I’d been praying that the babies would turn head down so I could try for a natural delivery. Up until that point they were rarely in the position they needed to be, and I knew most of the practitioners didn’t feel comfortable delivering breech due to lack of experience (which I don’t fault them for). Along with other potential risk factors and the fact that many twins decide to come early put me at a high possibility of a C-section. However, after several weeks of praying for them to turn, I felt prompted to begin praying instead that my heart would be prepared for whatever outcome the Lord saw fit to allow. Now, in the past I’d felt prompted to pray for specific outcomes during deliveries (you can read one of those stories here), but with all the unique dynamics this time it seemed best to pray that I’d be ready for whatever happened and simply leave that in the Lord’s hands. I was amazed by the calm (and even joyful anticipation) that flooded my heart and mind as I entrusted the unknowns to Him. I’d seen Him work so beautifully in each of my previous births, and I rested in the reality that He would do it again. And He did. Through the whole process of that eventful delivery day I knew the Lord’s peace was guarding my heart. I felt continual gratitude for His leading and care. I was reminded when tendrils of fear would slip into my heart that He is the Author of our stories—including these tiny babies—and I could entrust my daughters’ lives to Him. 

Well, that’s the end. I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into Holland and Harvest’s birthday. 

Your friend,