by Aly Taylor
We started getting worried about Vera being so late and Lydia possibly coming early. I had this nightmare scenario in my head of Karen and me going into labor at the exact same minute. Every day I didn’t go into labor brought us one day closer to Karen going into labor. I was trying so hard not to become too anxious, but it was nerve-racking. It didn’t help that I was really uncomfortable. I was five centimeters dilated but still not in active labor. Come on! My big prayer had been to have Vera on time so that I could enjoy that experience and soak up a week or two with her before Lydia came along, but now there was a real chance that wouldn’t happen.
Karen and I were in constant contact; we texted each other about different symptoms and how we were feeling. I occasionally had “pinch me” moments when it suddenly occurred to me who I was talking to and what I was talking about. It was definitely not your typical birth or adoption scenario.
Josh and I decided we needed a backup plan just in case Karen and I went into labor at the same time. I desperately wanted to be there for Lydia’s birth, but that was starting to look iffy—especially since Karen and I were delivering at different hospitals. After discussing various options, I finally looked at Josh and said, “If we are in labor at the same time, I want you to go with her.” He really struggled with this; after everything we’d been through, it crushed us both to imagine him not being in the delivery room with me when our miracle baby was born. However, the reality was that Lydia would need him too. I’d have our mothers in the room supporting me, but it was important to me that at least one of us be there for Lydia from the moment she entered the world. After discussing it a little more, we eventually decided this was our backup plan. But we still prayed like crazy it wouldn’t come to that.
A SURPRISE REACTION
By August 13, I was four days late and getting frustrated. Fortunately, I was surrounded by my favorite people. My sister, Jessica, had driven in to surprise me, our “Houston mom,” Tammy, was there, and, of course, our parents were still hanging around waiting on our baby girls. Everyone had found their own place to stay, mostly in basement apartments or friends-of-friends’ homes. Eventually, though, we decided to look for one place that would house us all. We found a great home to rent for a few weeks that would enable all of us to be under one roof amid all this craziness. That was such a blessing! Once again God gave us the perfect place to stay at the perfect time.
Finally, I started feeling contractions. They weren’t regular; they just came on here and there. I used my phone to track them and decided to stay active to speed things along. We ate lunch and took a long walk downtown. Then we went to the mall to walk. Just picture all of us—the whole family—power walking around a mall trying to convince Vera to come out and meet everyone. It was a sight! The contractions sped up and felt more consistent, so we decided to head to the hospital to see if this was the real deal. I still wasn’t completely certain, but I sure didn’t want to have my baby in the middle of the mall! At the hospital the midwife confirmed that I was in active labor and had dilated to six centimeters. This was it—another Taylor baby was about to make her appearance!
It’s important to remember that we had film crews following us around for all of this. They got every dramatic second of it on tape. It was weird having them there for such private moments, but I did my best to mentally block them out. I reminded myself how glad we’d be later to have all this so well-documented. That helped, but man… the thought of having all these people see me in so much pain and about to push out a baby was downright strange.
After more laps around the hospital, I became too uncomfortable to keep walking. I was in a lot of pain and just wanted to lie down. As they connected me to the monitors and an IV, they reminded me I had tested positive for Group B strep at a previous appointment, which is a common bacteria in pregnant women. It wasn’t serious, but they had to give me an antibiotic to make sure the bacteria wasn’t passed to Vera in the birth canal. Thankfully, my doula was there with the fan right by my sweaty face and encouraging me as they administered the antibiotic. As a side note: having both a doula and a midwife as part of my birth plan was an excellent choice for me. Each person is unique in what she needs during pregnancy and delivery and there are a lot of options out there. Go with what works for you—don’t let anyone else’s opinion weigh too heavily in what you want and need for yourself.
I knew labor was just beginning, but it was already more painful than I’d expected. Plus, as the antibiotic went into my system, I noticed that my face was swelling up. Honestly, my face felt like a water balloon, really tight and full and like it was about to burst. I mentioned this to my doula while fighting through a contraction, and she said it was probably just because I was tightening up so much from the pain of the contraction. She told me to do my best to relax my face as the contractions hit. I tried (as well as I could while also feeling the worst pain of my life), but my face kept feeling worse and worse. I thought it was going to explode from all the pressure.
At that point, I saw a frightened look on her face and the whole room went eerily silent. The doula rushed out of the room calling for the midwife. I heard people scurrying around the room, but it was getting harder for me to see. Something was wrong. The midwife came in and explained that the pressure I was feeling was definitely not normal. I was having a severe allergic reaction to the antibiotic they had pushed into my system, and it had caused my face to swell up like a balloon. I couldn’t see at all now; my eyes had literally swollen shut. I had to rely on everyone to tell me who was in the room and what was happening.
The midwife assured me that I was going to be fine, and they stopped the antibiotic and were controlling the reaction with Benadryl. Of course, they couldn’t give me the same dose of Benadryl they’d normally give someone in my condition, because, let’s not forget, I was in active labor! They had to make sure I was awake and lucid enough to push when the time came. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Seriously? Lying there miserable, in pain, swollen, frustrated, and blind, I tried to find some bright spot in all this. Then it hit me: Hey, at least I can’t see the camera crew filming me anymore!
—JOSH—
Looking back, I can see how the scene could seem a little funny, but it was scary in the moment. I wasn’t in the room when Aly first started reacting to the antibiotic, but I was in the hall when they came running out for the midwife. Getting all the way through nine months of pregnancy was already such a miracle for us. Seeing the doctors and nurses jump into action on an emergency call to my wife’s delivery room was terrifying. I ran to Aly’s room and quickly got up to speed on what was happening.
I’d like to say Aly was exaggerating about being swollen like a balloon… but I can’t. It looked bad. Really, really bad. And it didn’t help that she was in so much pain from the labor. Between contractions she talked about how much her face hurt; then a contraction would hit with such ferocity that she forgot all about her face and could only think about the pain in her stomach. When the contraction was over, her attention went back to her face. The poor girl couldn’t get a break. Before the allergic reaction, the doula and nurses told her to take advantage of those wonderful little breaks between contractions, but she couldn’t. She was stuck in a horrible cycle of stomach pain, face pain, stomach pain, face pain, stomach pain, face pain. I was so grateful Karen wasn’t also in labor, because I couldn’t imagine not being there for Aly during all this.
MEETING VERA
—ALY—
Nothing could have prepared me for what I was going through. It all seemed surreal, and I could not make sense of what was happening around me. At one point someone came into the room, stood next to me, and said a sweet prayer for me. When she was finished, I said, “Uh… who are you?”
She replied, “It’s Renea. You know, your mother-in-law.” I couldn’t see anything or anyone, and I had a loud electronic fan blowing in my face so I couldn’t hear well either. Everyone had a great laugh at me not recognizing the voice of a wo
man I’d known more than half my life! I didn’t find it quite as funny at the time, though.
I had made such great plans for this miraculous birth, but nothing was working out the way I thought it would. I wanted to labor in the bath tub, but there was a citywide water ban the night I was in the hospital. I wanted to have praise and worship music playing in the background while I was in labor, but the film crew said we couldn’t have music on. I wanted Josh to read scripture cards to me that I had personally made in advance. Okay, this one we actually did get to do… but it was seriously the most annoying thing I had ever heard in my life. Sorry, Jesus! It was me, not You! It’s so funny how we try to plan out all the key moments of our lives, but when the time comes, we find we have almost no control over anything. All we can do is pray that God’s will would be done.
Soon the contractions got unbearable and I couldn’t imagine going through this for one more second. I felt a lot of pressure like I needed to push, and the midwife told me I was ready; it was time to push my baby out.
The nurse described all the different positions I could use to deliver the baby. I always pictured myself on my back with my legs pulled up; I had no idea there were so many options. One of the positions she mentioned was basically on all fours, facedown with my hands and knees on the table. For some reason that position sounded like the most comfortable, so we went with it. Mind you, with my eyes sealed shut and my body overwhelmed with pain, I had completely forgotten about the TV cameras. So there I was: a water-balloon face, swollen eyes, crippling pain, and crouching on all fours trying to push out a baby—perfectly preserved on film for all of America to enjoy at their leisure. At that moment, though, I couldn’t have cared less. All I wanted was to deliver the baby and for this madness to stop.
Finally, I pushed with everything I had in me and let out a scream I couldn’t muster up again if I tried. And then… relief. I experienced the purest moment of relief and thankfulness of my life. It was done. They helped me roll over and lie on my back just in time for them to put the sweetest baby on my chest. Here she was, the baby everyone said couldn’t happen. The child several doctors told me I’d never meet. The living miracle we could see, hear, and touch. I just kept thanking God over and over again as Josh and I wept. She was here. God made the impossible possible, and Vera Alyce Taylor was here.
—JOSH—
I was overcome with emotion the instant Vera appeared. Everything came full circle in that moment as I watched a strong, healthy, vibrant woman give birth to a beautiful, problem-free, full-term baby. I had seen Aly so sick and weak over the past several years. We had even had a couple of conversations about her funeral during some especially bad times. But those days were gone. Here she was, happy and cancer-free, bringing our daughter into the world. Psalm 128 was made manifest in my life, and the moment completely undid me.
Standing there with Aly and Vera in my arms, I wept in thankfulness to God. I don’t even know what I said. I just felt His Spirit pouring out of me in a way I’d only felt one other time—when I prayed in the hospital with Karen after we thought Genevieve wouldn’t be ours. I guess the Holy Spirit just takes over for me when I’m overwhelmed with emotion for my wife, children, and God’s goodness to us. After the journey we’d been on, I knew it would be impossible for me to ever love my God or my family more.
Vera was born at 4:22 a.m. after an intense night of labor. When we had a minute to catch our breath, Aly checked her phone to see if we had missed any messages from Karen. Nothing! Thank God we didn’t miss Lydia’s birth and I didn’t have to rush off to another hospital. I could focus on Aly and Vera for a while.
There are always some concerns when you bring a second child home for the first time. We knew Genevieve was a dream little girl, but we couldn’t help but wonder how she’d react to this new baby in the house. We also weren’t sure what she’d think when we brought another baby home a couple of weeks later. We didn’t need to worry. From the instant we walked in the house with Vera, Genevieve was in love with her little sister. There was never even a hint of jealousy. Instead, Genevieve wanted to hold, kiss, and love on Vera all the time. She called the baby “Ra-Ra” and was totally obsessed with her. We all were.
ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER CHILDBIRTH
—ALY—
Eleven days after Vera was born, Karen called to let us know she was heading to the hospital. I could tell from her voice that she was in a lot of pain. I remember thinking, I’ve been there, sister! Our parents stayed with Genevieve and Vera while Josh and I grabbed our “Lydia bag”—the separate hospital bag we’d packed and set aside for this birth—and rushed out to go get the last Taylor baby.
When we got to the hospital, we learned Karen’s epidural had been delayed—but she was beyond ready for it. Apparently everyone and their momma (pun intended) decided to converge on that hospital’s labor and delivery ward that morning, and there were no rooms left. They were holding Karen in triage until they could get her into a delivery room, and that triage area was burning up. As a fellow preggo just eleven days earlier, I knew the heat struggle is real! She was in a lot of pain and extremely uncomfortable until they were able to perform the epidural.
After that, Karen’s whole demeanor changed and she was back to her happy, chatty self. The connection between us was so much greater now. Not only did I know her better, but I could now sympathize with what she was going through. Thinking back to my own pregnancy and birth experience, I couldn’t imagine going through all that and then handing Vera over to another couple to raise. But that’s exactly what Karen was doing. She knew it was the right thing for the baby, and she was making the courageous decision—again—to set her own feelings aside and focus on the child. I was in awe of her strength.
We thought we’d have a little time after the epidural, especially since Karen wasn’t even in a regular room yet. However, when the doctor checked her again, he said she was ready to push. I thought, We’ve been at the hospital less than an hour and it’s already time to push? We would have missed this if we hadn’t moved to Kentucky for the month; there was no way we would have gotten there on time, especially since Karen went into labor almost a week before her due date.
Karen pushed a few times with our encouragement and tears, and then we saw Lydia Joyce Taylor enter the world. I sobbed and sobbed at God’s faithfulness. It’s not every day that a woman gets to watch her own daughter enter the world. We were overjoyed. Another perfect baby. Another miracle. Another answered prayer. We were all one big, happy family crowded around Lydia. It might have seemed awkward to onlookers, but Josh and I dearly loved this family who had given us two precious gifts. We all took turns taking pictures with Lydia, hugging, and crying together. At one point Karen leaned in to Josh and me and said some of the sweetest words I’ve ever heard: “Thank you. I am so thankful for you, and I’m honored to give Lydia to you.”
That was such an incredible day. After all our plans, hopes, dreams, travel, relocation, health and job concerns, nosey television crews, and logistic nightmares, we were finally a family of five. Everything had gone off without a hitch (allergic reactions notwithstanding). Or so we thought.
CHAPTER 12
THY WILL BE DONE
—JOSH—
I was so blessed to be able to watch all three of my daughters come into the world. Each birth was life-changing and awe-inspiring—even though the second and third were just eleven days apart. Lydia’s birth was just as miraculous as the other two, and everyone present could feel the love in the room. Sharing that moment with Karen and her family was incredible; everyone had time with the baby, and Aly and I took turns having skin-to-skin contact. I’m pretty sure we were covered in Vera’s spit-up, so Lydia got a good dose of her sister too. Oh, newborn life!
As we mentioned, when Genevieve was born, Aly and I were able to get a hospital room a few doors down from Karen. That room had been a precious gift, especially in those first days when Karen started wavering in her decision to give up Genevieve f
or adoption. We hoped to have the same situation in Kentucky after Lydia’s birth, but the hospital was too full. Karen finally got into a regular room after delivering Lydia in a triage room, but there weren’t any beds available for Aly and me. We struggled with this; we couldn’t fathom leaving the hospital without Lydia.
After sweating it out for what felt like forever, some of the nurses we had gotten to know figured out a solution: there was a room we could stay in; it just didn’t have a bed. “Yes!” we said without a second thought. We just wanted to be close to Lydia. We didn’t care what the conditions were. So we slept on the cold, tile hospital floor that night. The almost-empty room also had one hard waiting room chair and another one that somewhat reclined, so we rotated in and out of those too. Our Lydia was able to sleep in there with us for part of the night, so Aly held her in her arms while trying to sleep in an uncomfortable, unforgiving hospital chair. The conditions weren’t ideal, but we didn’t care. We were thankful to soak up every minute we could with the third Taylor baby girl.
—ALY—
What a night. I still had stomach cramping from Vera’s birth, and that tile floor was not helping. However, when the nurse came in at 1:00 a.m. and asked if we wanted Lydia in our room, everything seemed perfect. I cuddled with her, sang to her, prayed for her, smelled her, and told her how much we adored her. It was the most uncomfortable, most wonderful night of my life. We were aching to get her home and join the rest of the family, but we still had to wait the two days before we could legally remove her from the hospital. Even after that, per Kentucky law, we had to wait three more days before the adoption became final. However, the birth family had already signed the papers to give us temporary custody until everything was finalized five days after the birth. That made the miserable hospital floor bearable. It was a small price to pay, and we knew we’d all be home just a couple of days later and Lydia would be with us forever.