Almost Heaven, West Virginia

Dear Charlie Bird,

I'd like to tell you about a place called West Virginia. Up until a few weeks ago, Mom and I thought about West Virginia as that one place in that one John Denver song and a convenient stopping place on our trip home from spring break. I know in my last letter, I told you all about what Mom physically, mentally, and emotionally went through to bring you into the world. This letter will explain why West Virginia is a big part of your story, and why that place is now so meaningful to us.

A month ago, Mom and I departed from chilly Michigan on our way south to Hilton Head Island. Because of that whole "the end of the world" thing I mentioned, we decided to drive instead of fly. For your mom and me, we saw this as a chance to see some new places before your arrival. We stopped for a night in Asheville, NC before making it to the South Carolina coast for a week of sunshine with your Grandma K, Granddad, Auntie Lolo, and your Auntie Tula, Uncle Deano, & cousins Izzy, Nolan, and Brooklyn.

It was a week filled with beach walks:

Golf for the boys (one thing you'll quickly learn is that your father is STYLISH and not at all embarrassing to you... remember that!):

And pool time for the girls (your mom actually got really sunburned, so it's a bit of a sore subject for her). We watched March Madness, the most amazing sports event in the history of the world, according to me, your dad, the person who paced around the house like a madman after the Jalen Suggs shot and the person who imitated the Drew Timme mustache celebration so much that your Mom almost sent me home from the trip early.

Most of all, we simply enjoyed what we thought would be one of our last family trips before your arrival. We played family games, enjoyed the sunshine, and talked all about how excited we were to bring you to the beach someday. Finally, Saturday morning came and it was time for us to head home. We said goodbye to the family and took one final picture before hitting the road.

Because your Granddad doesn't like driving TOO far on road trips, we decided to stop at the halfway point between Hilton Head and Grand Rapids: Charleston, WV. To be honest, Charlie, I wasn't thrilled with this decision. I thought we could have pushed a few more hours to Columbus, OH to give us a shorter drive the next day. But now, looking back, your mom and I are so thankful Charleston was our stop.

En route to West Virginia, we eluded a one-hour traffic jam (thanks Waze!). At the time, my biggest complaint was the ridiculous price of the West Virginia tolls ($4 at three different points within a 30-mile stretch of road) and the fact that these tolls only took cash, something that your millennial parents never have on us (your Granddad made fun of us for that). Finally, around 4pm, we arrived at our hotel in downtown Charleston. We went down to the hotel bar to have an early dinner, have a few drinks, and to watch the Master's.

After our meal, Grandma K, Auntie Lolo, Mom, and I stayed around and chatted for a bit. Your Mom rushed off to the bathroom, but because you would make her pee seemingly every few minutes, this wasn't something that seemed out of the ordinary. But then, your Mom came back and told us that she was bleeding. We rushed to the hotel room to double check everything, and that's when the bleeding came on stronger. I froze, your Mom was panicky, but your Auntie Lolo quickly made the decision that we had to go to the hospital, so she rushed to get our car, and we found the CAMC Women's and Children's Hospital just two minutes away. Because of COVID (that "end of the world" thing again), I was the only one who could enter the hospital with your Mom. Nurses and doctors whisked her away while I stayed in the waiting room.

Charlie Bird, some day you will find yourself in a situation where you feel scared. That could be because of the "monsters under your bed." It could be when you watch a frightening movie. It could be any number of things. Just know that it is OK to feel scared, because the moment your mom went into the hospital, we were both EXTREMELY scared. Unfortunately, our biggest fear was that this bleeding meant we were going to lose you. Sitting in that waiting room, by myself, just hoping you were ok was the scariest moment of my life.

Finally, I was able to join your mom. The first thing I noticed was a constant heartbeat being projected from a machine by Mom's bed. It was your heartbeat, and it was steady as ever. The doctors told your mom she had a Placenta Previa, meaning the placenta was covering Mom's cervix. This is a really concerning condition, because it means that if and when Mom goes into labor to deliver you, it could result in very heavy bleeding. Because of this, we were admitted to the hospital so they could keep an eye on Mom in case the bleeding started again (at this point, it had stopped).

We were moved to a regular hospital room to be monitored, not knowing when we would be able to get home. The doctors said that if Mom started bleeding again, it would mean she would have to stay on total bed-rest until she gave birth to you. That meant we would have had to live in West Virginia for days, weeks, or months. And while West Virginia is "almost heaven" according to John Denver, it isn't home, so we were praying that there was a way to get home.

That first night in the hospital was the toughest. All of the machines would beep and ding at all hours of the night. Some machines made noises that sounded WAY too serious. We probably slept an hour or two total that night. Not to mention, your Mom and I had to share her twin bed.

Why would we do that, you ask? Your mom felt sorry for me trying to sleep on the "pull-out chair" in the corner of the room.

The most comforting thing about our stay in CAMC was the hospital staff. We had some amazing nurses and doctors who were looking after your mom, and who were curious how a couple from Michigan ended up there. We had Angie, Maddy, Kylie, and Jamie as our nurses at some point. Angie was like our mother in there, always looking after us (we are Facebook friends now!). They all helped us as we hoped that we could make it back to Michigan. In the meantime, we found creative ways to kill time.

Finally, Monday morning came around and the Maternal-Fetal Medicine doctor came in to see Mom. He said that because the bleeding had stopped, we would be able to get home. In order to get home as soon as possible, we found a flight back (your first plane ride!). I had a Bloody Mary on the plane, which your mom did not think was funny (this won't be the first time your mom doesn't like one of your dad's jokes!).

Once we got home, your dog brother Archie was so happy to see your mom and me. Can you tell?

The next week or so looked a lot like this. We had some appointments with Mom's doctors to make sure everything was where it needed to be. Because of the Placenta Previa, Dr. White (the coolest doctor in the world!) scheduled a C-Section for your Mom on July 7 (with your original due date being July 26). We were now three weeks closer to seeing you, not knowing what was coming on the horizon.

Now you know the importance of West Virginia in your story. We will forever have a special place in our hearts for the doctors and nurses that took care of you and your mom during that terrifying stay. Because of their amazing care, the country roads of West Virginia were able to eventually take us home to the place we belong: Michigan. You were so close to being born a "Mountaineer." Little did we know that your July 7 birthday would never happen. That's a story for next time...

Love,

Dad