Thank you for being so patient as I work through major emotions to write this post. I want y'all to know I relive the next few hours of this story over and over in my head on a daily basis. While I'm walking in the grocery store, painting my nails, or just watching America's Got Talent on a Tuesday night. It's a movie that is constantly on replay in my mind, but putting it to words has been one of the hardest things to do. I pray this is communicated clearly and that whoever reads these words see a beautiful picture of God's grace.
After my water broke the receptionist lady was a lot quicker to get the ball rolling. She immediately paged the nurses and they walked me back into a room. This is truly when my "movie" goes into a fast-forward setting and everything starts moving so fast. As I was walking back into the room, I turned to one of the nurses and told her I had to give birth via c-section. She looked at me puzzled and I huffed, "I've already had a c-section, so I have to have another one!" The practice of OBGYNs I see do not do vaginal births after a cesarian (VBAC) because of the potential complications that come with them. This is why my c-section was scheduled. Once they hook me up to the monitor and get me in the gown they proceed to continue to ask me a bunch of questions like What is your pain level? Do you have a living will? Are you allergic to anything? Who's your doctor? And the list goes on.
Meanwhile, my husband is calling our doctor who did my first delivery (also happens to be a good friend) to tell him that it's time and he needs to hurry to get the hospital, so he could do the c-section. I wish I could write well enough to truly describe these moments. It was so chaotic, it's even a blur in my memory. Clay was trying to get everyone to slow the hell down, the nurses were in and out of the room all looking panicked (which freaked me out) and I'm laying on a bed, leaking and in the worst pain I've ever experienced. I remember one nurse in particular and for confidentiality purposes I'll change her name to Angel (because that's what she was). She assured me that everything was going to be okay. She told me that I was 100% effaced and that they needed to get me into the operating room pretty quickly. Clay finally got ahold of our doctor and he was on the way to the hospital. *Cue sigh of relief!* Everything was falling into place. I went ahead of Clay into the OR and got the spinal tap. Angel held my hands and let me lean on her throughout the procedure and encouraged me the entire time. "Staci, you're doing great. Keep breathing."
Ellie Clay's delivery was done quickly as well and I had a pretty bad reaction to the epidural. It caused me to shake and shiver the entire surgery and I really wasn't able to be "present" during her first moments outside the womb. I was really nervous about this happening again. I remember lying on the operating table just praying that Jesus would calm the adrenaline and allow me to just keep my eyes open. Once Clay came in the room, the shaking started. I looked up at him and before I could say anything he just said, "Stace- You're okay. Just breathe." I took a deep breath and the shaking stopped.
"Good morning! You ready to have a baby?!" My doctor greeted, as he walked into the room. I thanked him for coming so quickly and he shook Clay's hand. He walked on the other side of the curtain and said, "Alright, let's get started."
It was taking longer than what I had remembered from the first time. I heard the nurses kind of working off to the side. I looked to Clay for affirmation and he nodded to me the "everything-is-fine" nod. So that was enough for me. Then, I heard my second baby girl cry and fill her little lungs with air. The sweetest sound that can still bring tears to my eyes. The sound of life and new beginnings. Later I found out, Lulie had a hard time breathing on her own, so they had to resuscitate her a couple of times to get her lungs going. This is what was taking so long. I have no idea how my husband, Clay Ireland, kept it together through that. He saw the whole thing going on and was able to stay completely calm and reassure me.
Before they could bring little Lulie over to us, I heard our doctor say, "Everyone just stop." He was stern and sounded concerned. He then explained to, I'm assuming a nurse, that my uterus had ruptured. My brain was still focused on my newborn baby that I haven't yet seen, so the weight of those words didn't really effect me. Clay went over to retrieve Lulie and he caught a glimpse of what the doctor was talking about. He later described it to me as "a sack that had been ripped open in a zig-zag pattern". As I was snuggling and kissing Lulie on the cheek my doctor worked on repairing the tear and sewing me back up. Clay ended up leaving to be with Lulie and for a while I was alone in the operating room. It was taking a long time so, in my mind that meant my doctor was really making sure my scar would be as small as possible. Oh, the thoughts of Staci Ireland. If I only knew. The doctor finished up and I was wheeled back into recovery.
I was finally reunited with Clay and Lulie and I was ready for skin-to-skin and to breastfeed for the first time. Lulie immediately latched and began feeding. Clay was making phone calls, the first one being to my parents who were already on their way to Columbus. I began to follow up on some texts that had came in during the delivery and sent a shameless breastfeeding selfie to my best friend.
I got on the phone with my mom soon after this picture was taken. She was apologizing for not being there, but also congratulating me. The last sentence I remember her saying was how proud she was of me. You love to hear those words from a women you look up to so much. Everything was finally calm and I was able to breathe. I was on the other side of the scary, unknown delivery. I had a healthy baby girl, a rockstar husband and I was a mother of two.
As my mom was fighting through tears and saying all the gushy things moms say. Angel, our nurse, made a quick approach to the bed and ordered Clay to grab the phone and the baby. My blood pressure was dropping and the machines I was connected to started going crazy. She began to push and feel around on my newly stitched belly and I grunted in pain. Angel yelled out for someone to page our doctor. Again, the fast-forward feature comes on. Our doctor came in and in a blur was explaining to Clay what was going on. At this point, I was totally out of it from pain and the rush of people that surrounded me. They began to wheel me out of the room back into the OR and started prepping me for another surgery. I still had no idea what was going on. They were planning on putting me to sleep, but were waiting on units of blood to be brought into the OR. Everyone in the room was tense and I could feel that something had to be really wrong. The last thing I heard my doctor say was, "I'll do my best, but I can't promise that this won't end in a hysterectomy."
My heart sinks for Clay, as I type this out and relive it. Here he is with an hour old baby in his hands, his wife being literally rushed into the operating room because she is essentially bleeding out and he is left all alone. His strength during this tragedy has made me love him more than I ever thought possible.
After two hours of being in surgery, I was wheeled back into the recovery room where I met Clay and my uncle who came to be with him in the depth of the waiting. I don't remember much of this time other than my uncle kissing me on the forehead and Clay holding my hand. It wasn't until much later that afternoon once we were moved into a room that the doctor came to visit us (at least of what I remember). And that's when he explained everything.
Sometime during labor my uterus had ruptured. During the c-section he tried to repair it, but where the "zig-zag" was, as Clay likes to refer to it, was a major vein that wouldn't stop bleeding. Every stitch he made just tore it more. While I was in recovery, I was bleeding internally and if it wasn't for Angel's acute sense and attention to detail, well... I may not have had the "happy" ending that I have. During the second surgery my uterus was beyond repair and to prevent me from bleeding out on the table he had to do a hysterectomy.
Those are the facts and about as detailed as I can get without completely losing it.
At 25 years old, I no longer have the ability to have kids. During our time in the hospital I was so conflicted. I was rejoicing in gladness for my precious new gift of a daughter and also mourning the loss of any future babies Clay and I would/could have. Words like empty, broken, infertile, and barren taunted me. And I felt like I had failed my husband, who wanted nothing more than a little boy to take to T-ball practice and mow the grass with. It's a hard reality and I cry a lot.
Its been almost three months and it's still devastating when I think about it. But I have a greater hope. Hope in Jesus. Hope that this happened to me for a greater purpose. Hope that I am being made whole through this process. Those words that taunted me are given new life to full, healed, fertile in love, and fruitful in spirit. I know I haven't even remotely uncovered half of the iceberg that this tragedy is, but I try to choose joy daily. I choose to celebrate the two blessings the Lord has given me. I choose to appreciate every moment with these two girls as best as I can. I choose to be a mom that loves without reserve and a wife that is a true helpmate. This has been a life defining event and I am forever changed.
Thank you for taking the time to read my words. I hope to continue sharing the testimony this story is and will be in our lives with you all.
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