{Storytime Pt. 1}

In light of recent events, I feel the need to share a story.

{I wrote this blog almost verbatum on my old one that I can’t get to anymore. Some details are fuzzy 4 years later, but the big ones are burned into my memory forever.}

Both of my pregnancies weren’t necessarily planned or have a designated “We’re planning on having children 4 months after being married announcement.”

Because really what college student, freshly married, & working 2 jobs says that… Not this one. Let’s be real & honest. Because I am.


I was thankful regardless because I knew and still know one too many people who would give their own life to be able to carry a life like that.

So at 22 years old, I had a healthy and picture perfect pregnancy.

We were excited to ultimately meet this little life and to surprise everyone with the gender {and a name because that was a throw down}.

So when the 1 week appointments started, Husband and my mom would ask to go.

No. I’m good. {I want to be left alone and go buy stuff at TJMaxx alone and go back to work when I roll into town. Alone.}

That came back to bite me at my 39 week appointment. Both offered to go. I said no. I wanted to be by myself and enjoy just me time.

The details I will never forget.

My appointment was for 1:20. The waiting room was full, and I got sick in the bathroom before they called me back. They were almost 20-30 minutes behind which was fine to me. I was not going to fuss for waiting because I had always told myself that I would want my doctor to drop everything for me if she had to and I’d never complain if she had to do the same for someone else.

The nurse was sweet and continued to apologize for them running behind. I gave her that answer verbatum of “if it were me, I’d want her to drop everything to help me, so it’s not a big deal.”

I waited another few minutes in my exam room {I was hopeful something would be happening because I’d lost 2lbs and supposedly I had heard you lose weight when it’s close to delivery time.}

My doctor came in, checked everything, and I begged can we please have a baby today. I was tired. I was uncomfortable. I was fat. I was over it.

She smiled and said probably not today, but let’s check the heartbeat.

And that’s when things took a 180. Literally.

She started with the doppler, and nothing.

There was no sound.

I was pretty convinced my heart also stopped at that moment, but I continued to watch my doctor’s eyes for a reaction or sign that I should genuinly be scared. Again, nothing there either.

She continued on. Nothing.

She went lower, and there was a beating.

It was wrong though. That’s the only way I can describe it. It was wrong. It sounded nothing like my baby’s heartbeat from the week before.

Her eyes flickered {another detail I will always remember was her quick reaction and the calm that remained on her face like a mask}

I was told that she wanted me to go straight to L&D to be monitored and just go straight there when I got to my car and she’d call that I was coming. She made it very clear I was to go straight there. Straight there, got it.

{Ok cool. Maybe I’m fixing to go in labor.}

I texted {yes I’m an idiot, I texted} Husband and told him something was weird with the heartbeat and they were sending me to be monitored.

“Do I need to come there?” Nah. I’ll let you know when I find something out.

I got around to the back and didn’t even make it 3 steps in the door and the head nurse {whom I owe everything to aside from my doctor} met me with the biggest grin asking if I was Hannah. {why yes ma’am}

“Come on with me and I’ve got you a room. Come on let’s hurry”


She told me to sit on the bed and hold these 2 metal plates to my baby bump.

{Hmm. Am I just going to have to sit here holding these?}

Nope. That was answered real quick, fast, and in a hurry.

I texted Husband that I was there in a room.

Then within about 2 minutes, Head Nurse walked out and back in with some supplies.

“Ok we’re going to get to know each other rather quickly. The baby has to come out right now.” {gown, cathater, & iv pole all in hand with a plastic bag for my personal belongings}

I know I had the sickest, most dumb-founded look on my face. I now know what it feels like to be a deer in the headlights. Swear. I don’t think I blinked for a whole 2 minutes either.

“Call your husband. We gotta go right now.”

I called. No answer. I called again. Fumbled the phone. All the while about 12 people flooded my hospital room and in walks my doctor all scrubbed in and ready.

“You said you wanted to have a baby. Let’s go.”

I got Husband on the phone as they’re laying me down to roll.


{sobs start.}

I’m s-s-s-s-s-o-r-r-r-y…I’m having the baby right now.

“It’s ok. It’s ok. I had a feeling and I’m already changing clothes. I’m coming. You’re ok. It’s ok. I’m coming as fast as I can.”

{Here’s your side note. I was 45 minutes -1 hour away at the hospital. He had been in the cow pasture before he had the gut feeling regardless of what I said that he better get to the hospital.}

There was no waiting. The Head Nurse and others had already done the cath, iv, had oxygen on me, a gown, taken all my belongings into a plastic bag, and were snatching my cellphone as they started running me down the hall like in the soap operas. Still all the while trying to get allergy tags on me, my hospital bracelets, and spitting off jibberish I didn’t understand.

We were in a legit bed race.

The way the lights flashed above is also something burned into my memory.

As we busted through all doors and they told people to move, the realization that something was very wrong overcame me.

“What is wrong with my baby? Please God I’ll do anything if you make sure she’s ok. Please I’ll take her however I can have her if she’ll just be ok. Please. Please don’t take my baby. Please don’t take her from me. Please this isn’t fair.”

{Fair is now one of those forbidden words in life to me}

The sobs started again.

By then I was in the OR with a team of professionals who I later understood literally had my own life and my child’s in their hands. The anesthesiologist began to rub my head and stroke my hair telling me I was doing so good and they were going to take care of me and it was going to be alright. She repeated this mantra about 29 times as they asked me 3 questions.

“What is your full name? What is your DOB? What & when did you eat last?”

11 am. Tomato soup with crackers & water.

“Sign here.”

Then my doctor told them to hurry up that she had to cut right then or they wouldn’t have time.

There was no count to 3, no count backwards, nothing. Just a mask and then lights out as I just kept praying ‘God please don’t take my baby.’

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