The birth of our fourth child is yet another sweet
testimony to my heart of our Father's tender care towards His
children. Once again, He has shown me that He is more than able to
work out the details of my “special case” in just the perfect way,
for His glory and my good.
Specifically for our situation, I had
been nursing some anxiety in the back of my mind that my husband might not
make it home in time once labor started for me, due to the fact that
he works all over North Texas (including the Panhandle and East
Texas) and we never know just how far away he'll be at any given
moment. That is, if labor started naturally – which I desperately
hoped it would! We'd induced twice before – our oldest son at 39 weeks
because they were concerned for his growth and our youngest daughter at 40 weeks, 3
days because we wanted to make sure my husband was in town for her birth
(especially since our previous daughter had come in only 3.5 hours!). Inductions were
the pits – literally, as “pit”ocin was the doctors' drug of
choice that got labor started and always felt like cruel and unusual
punishment. Epidurals were a must for me during inductions –
although my last one had failed, so I'd ended up having my daughter
“naturally” while on pitocin, which I never wanted to repeat
again!
So this time, I'd been praying that I
could finally experience a naturally beginning labor without any
medicinal intervention. I knew I'd need some help if I was to make it
through that, and I'd heard such great things about doulas that I
decided to look in to them. My dear friend recommended her doula from
a previous pregnancy, Lisa, who also happens to be our pastor's
wife! I'd known Lisa from a moms' Bible study she co-lead in the past
and had always really enjoyed her presence – she just has this
peacefulness about her that I knew would be such a huge blessing
during labor. She graciously agreed to be our doula and we talked a
few times before the birth about what to expect and how I should
prepare. I'd been down the laboring road 3 times previously, so I
knew the level of pain that was coming. I think I still just needed to gain
a greater perspective of how other moms had handled natural labor –
so, providentially, Lisa loaned me a great book, The Baby Catcher,
that told birth story after birth story. Somehow just hearing so many
accounts of unmedicated births and the way women coped through them
gave me such a deep sense of comfort. It took a lot of mystery out of
the whole thing, and I really felt reminded that God has made women
to deliver babies naturally - and I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt,
that He would be with me by my side throughout the entire process.
By the time I was full term, although
of course I was dreading the pain that inevitably would come, I
honestly was looking forward to the experience of feeling Jesus near
me through it all. I'd compiled lots of encouraging verses to
meditate on beforehand and during labor, as well as made a playlist
of some of my most favorite faith-stirring songs. And of course I'd
been praying for a smooth and safe delivery of our sweet son for
months. By the time 38 weeks rolled around, I felt as ready as I'd
ever be.
On Monday, June 24 (a day shy of my
38-week mark), I had an amazing visit with a Christian chiropractor, who I'd heard speak at MOPS and who my good friend,
Anne, had recommended as well. Anne had cautioned me, “I
went into labor 3 days after I saw her!” - but I had no idea how
prophetic that would be for my own experience! The chiropractor adjusted me,
which felt incredible, and I sensed the baby dropping down
a bit over the following days.
On Wednesday, June 26, I woke up early
as usual, before our other 3 little ones get up, so I could have some
quiet time with God and also finally sit down to write in the baby's
journal (I keep a journal for each of our kids). I am so grateful
that I got the chance to record some words of love and
excitement at his impending arrival, as well as a great story of some
prophetic words that were spoken over him by another dear friend, Amanda (who had
recommended my doula).
At a playdate just the week prior, Amanda had
told me that when she first heard that we were going to name the baby
Walton, she thought that his name reminded her of a “walled town”,
or fortified city. I thought that was a sweet notion, but wasn't
certain that Walton actually meant that. After a quick bit of
research, however, I found out that sure enough, Walton does mean
“walled town”! She went on to say that she feels the Lord is
saying that Walton's faith will be firmly established and because of
that, he will be a refuge to those around him (as is a “walled
town”). She asked if we'd picked out a life verse for him yet, like
we'd done for our older three. We had yet to do that, so she said
Psalm 18:2 really spoke to her
(which I wholeheartedly agreed!):
“The
LORD is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; my God is my rock, in
whom I find protection.
He is my shield, the power that saves me,
and my place of safety.”
I was so grateful for her
words of encouragement and blessing over this little life inside me,
and I had a greater level of excitement for his arrival as his name
took on a whole new meaning for me. I sensed God's hand over this
child I was carrying even more intimately and, in keeping with
Amanda's words, felt my own faith deepen.
Later that morning of the
26th, the kids and I loaded up to go to my women's Bible
study at our church (Beth Moore's study on Esther). It was so
wonderful to have a good time of fellowship and study with the great
ladies of my church! We came home in time for lunch and to put the
kids down for naps, and then my mom came over to keep them while I
went to my 38-week check-up. It was my first visit with this doctor,
since my own doctor had moved out of the
country a few weeks prior. I really enjoyed my visit with him,
although I was a bit anxious about him doing a cervical check on me –
I'd had them in the past and they seem to get me all worked up about
nothing (thinking I was further along than I really was). But he went
ahead and did the check, which was fine with me as I “knew” it
would be at least two more weeks till labor would start. I was
dilated to a 3 and 75% effaced. I didn't even bat an eyelash at this,
since so many women stay at this stage for weeks.
However, I came home from
the doctor and had this overwhelming sense – almost a sense of
frustration - that I just really wanted the baby to go ahead and be
born in the next few days. My husband came home at a decent hour that
afternoon (just the previous week he had been way up in the Panhandle
working) and the kids played outside before we all sat down for a
dinner of spaghetti and then gave the kids a bath. Afterward, we
started getting ready to all load up to go to the parenting Bible
study (Give Them Grace) we've been doing with two of our greatest
couple friends.
The kids were running
around trying to get ready to leave for the study, all excited to go
see their friends, and here I was in this little funk, hoping in my
mind that miraculously Walton would just go ahead and be born between now and July
4th, all the while thinking that he probably wouldn't. Out
of the blue, I felt like my water had broken! What was this, exactly? Did my water really just break? Surely when your water breaks there's no
question about it. I called my good friend to see if she'd ever had that
experience in any of her previous 3 pregnancies. She said no, but
that she'd heard similar stories from other moms who weren't quite
sure whether or not their water had truly broken. The sensation continued,
so I decided to call my doctor, and the nurse encouraged me to go
ahead and head up to the hospital. By this time I started to feel
slight crampy contractions and felt a rush of excited disbelief as I
realized that yes, things were underway indeed! I told my husband that we
were going to go ahead and go to the hospital and he excitedly and
quickly packed his bag (thankfully I'd packed mine and the kids a few weeks
prior). I called my mom and told her what was happening and that we'd
need to bring the kids by soon, then I called Lisa, who
said she'd be at the hospital when we got there. I'd just finished
folding laundry that day, so in true nesting pregnant mother style, I
quickly put the piles in the appropriate places of the house and then
stepped back and marveled in my heart.
Wow. Here we all were. My husband
was home (not in the Panhandle or even an hour and a half away in Plano, where he'd been working
just that morning), my folks were home and not busy with a house-full
of guests visiting for the fourth of July (which would be the case
just the next week), and my doula was in town and ready (not gone on
vacation, which was her plan after July 15th). My house
was “in order” (as much as is possible with three little ones),
and I'd even gotten the chance to sit down and write in Walton's
journal just that very morning. What a perfect moment in my little
world to have this baby! I knew that this was another example of God's beautiful plan
and fatherly care-taking of every detail of my life. There were just too many
variables to line up for it to work out so perfectly unless He was at
the helm. And of course, He IS, so it just all made perfect sense
that it would happen at this very moment!
At this point we told the
kids that mama was going to be having the baby soon and they shrieked
with excitement and just couldn't believe it. In the same fashion as
when we'd first told them I was pregnant, they started running around
the house and singing/shouting about how much they loved Baby Walton
and couldn't wait to see him (thankfully I caught a bit of this on
video :). For the last time, we loaded up in our minivan as a family
of 5 and dropped them off at my folks' house.
As we arrived at the ER to
check in at the registration desk, contractions were steadily picking
up every 3-5 minutes for about 30 seconds each. They weren't too bad,
though, and I was even able to have a conversation with an old family
friend who was in the ER waiting room (which was a nice
little distraction as we waited to get checked in). The sweet
registration lady walked us back to labor and delivery and I was
flooded with relief when I saw Lisa sitting in the delivery room,
waiting on me just as she'd promised. Thank the Lord, my advocate was
here!
I was especially grateful to
have Lisa on my side after my first interaction with the nurse on
duty was less-than-pleasant, not that she was unkind, just very short
and abrupt...not exactly the sort of person you want tending you
during the rough moments to come (however, providentially, she proved
to be exactly who I needed to help out in those final few moments of
pushing, coaching me every second of the way – and she showed her
sweet grandmotherly side during my recovery :). At that time, she
strapped monitors on me and began to keep track of the baby during my
contractions, promising that as soon as they'd established that
everything was okay with him, they'd take the monitors off and I'd be
able to walk around. I'd given her my birth plan, which Lisa had
encouraged me to type out, by this point, and she knew that I was
hoping for a natural, unmedicated birth, one where I could walk
around if needed and not be strapped to the bed and constantly
monitored.
For the first few minutes of
monitored contractions, Walton's heart rate would dip pretty
dramatically and my nurse bluntly told me that “the baby did not
look good,” which are exactly the words that you do not want to
hear. We prayed and stayed positive, though, and sure enough, within
30 minutes, he was looking okay and the nurse said I could get off
the monitors. Freedom!
About that time my mother
and father-in-law rushed into the room – they'd sped here as soon as my husband had told them that we were going to
the hospital, hoping not to miss the birth since our first daughter had come in
only 3.5 hours. It was apparent that the baby wouldn't be coming
within the next few minutes, though, so we all sat around and talked
for a while. My mother-in-law was a great distraction for
me, telling me story after story as soon as a contraction would kick
in, helping me keep my mind off the pain (thank God for that family's
story-telling gene! :). It was also at this point that I discovered
that counter-pressure would be my best friend during this labor, and
I would sit down firmly on the edge of the bed each time a
contraction would start. I even tried sitting on a birthing ball, but
it was too low and unsupportive – the bed was just the right
height.
After about an hour, my
in-laws decided to hit the road, and Lisa and I decided I should hit
the halls. Sure enough, it only took about 30 minutes of walking and
talking for my contractions to really start picking up in intensity,
and I knew I needed to sit down and rest in between them now. So I
resumed sitting on the edge of the bed during contractions and asked
Lisa to push against my lower back when they would come on, adding
even more counter-pressure. She and my husband took turns doing this for
some time as labor grew more intense. Finally I felt like I should be
lying down to let myself rest even more in between my contractions,
as I felt like I was just tensing up too much during them trying to
keep myself upright in a sitting position.
I laid down on my left side
and never got up after that! I would alternate between sides, but
found that lying down was the most effective way for me to conserve
energy between contractions. The best relief during contractions for
me I found was the triple shot of counter-pressure I received when
my husband would push on my back, Lisa would push down on my hip or up
against my knee, and I would push up on my abdomen. Somehow this
“squeezing back” helped me not feel so totally overwhelmed by the
power of the pain and even relieved it somewhat. I was profoundly
grateful to have both of them helping me and cannot imagine
what it would've been like to have just been lying there on my own,
writhing in pain with no one to help! They were God's instruments of
critical coping mechanisms to me!
Periodically the nurse would
come in and check me – still only a 4 at first, then about a 6,
then eventually an 8...we were getting there! She reminded me to let
them know as soon as I felt the urge to push so they could tell the
doctor (he had arrived at the hospital around 7pm and would
wait on me till the wee hours in the morning!). Lisa helped me
remember to breathe during the
contractions, constantly telling me that I was almost there and
reassuring me that the contraction was nearly over. I needed this
continual encouragement and actually preferred to be strapped to the
monitors by this time so I had some semblance of control – it felt
like the monitors gave me a sort of play-by-play of what was
happening.
I asked my husband to read some
of the Bible verses I'd brought along and then I put on my headphones
for further relief. I only made it through 2 songs ( Kari Jobe's
“Healer” and Matt Redman's “Never Once”) before the
contractions became so intense and frequent that I had to completely
unplug and just focus on resting and praying between them – even
taking in the music was just too much. But God used those 2 songs to
resonate in my heart and mind for the rest of the labor. I would
meditate off and on on their powerful lyrics as I called out to
Christ in my heart to be with me and strengthen me, to help me and
hasten the process. These lyrics spoke powerful truths to my mind and
heart:
“Healer”
You hold my every moment
You calm my raging seas
You
walk with me through fire
And heal all my disease
I trust in
You, I trust in You
I believe You're my healer
I believe You
are all I need
I believe You're my portion
I believe You're
more than enough for me
Jesus, You're all I need...
Nothing is
impossible for You...
You hold my world in Your hands
“Never
Once”
Standing on this mountaintop
Looking just how far we’ve
come
Knowing that for every step
You were with us
Kneeling
on this battle ground
Seeing just how much You’ve done
Knowing
every victory
Was Your power in us
Scars and struggles on the
way
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes, our hearts can
say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave
us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
My husband and Lisa continued to press in to me as each contraction took its
toll, and I felt God reminding me that, just as each contraction had
a beginning and an ending, this labor would not last forever. It
would be over soon – He would be with me and not let me fall –
and in the end, our precious son would be here!
By
the time transition hit, I was so physically wiped out that I
actually dozed off between contractions (I'll never forget Lisa
telling me afterward, “You slept during transition! That was
rockin' awesome!” ;). Not so much awesome, I'd say, as just pure
exhaustion. Whatever it was, I had no other choice, and I guess my
body knew it needed to store up every ounce of strength possible
because the hardest part was yet to come: pushing.
I
felt Walton move down low enough to make me think I needed to push,
so I let Lisa know and she told the nurse. The nurse checked me and
agreed that he was ready. In just a few minutes, my doctor and the
rest of the nursing crew were all piled into the room, and they had
me sit up at the edge of the bed and get ready to push. I thought
with just the first couple of contractions, he'd be out and I'd be
done. But somehow the contractions seemed to die down as soon as I
got into pushing position! It felt like we waited forever for the
next contraction to take hold, but as soon as it did, I pushed as
hard as I could and nothing happened, it seemed. A few more pushes, and
still nothing. I felt like I was pushing against a brick wall with
the strength of a toddler – so futile.
Twenty
or so minutes went by and the delivery nurse continued to coach me,
“deep breath, then push! Don't make any noise, just push!” It was
so hard to not make any noise! But she said that was wasting my
energy – and I knew I didn't have any energy to waste, so I obeyed
as best I could. However, when they began to tell me that he was almost here, it was impossible to keep from
screaming unlike anything that's ever come through my vocal chords! A brief moment of relief and excitement gripped me
as I knew just one more push and this would all be over. But this
last push would be the worst. I
screamed even louder than before, and before I knew it, little Walton
was here and screaming alongside his mama!
What
tremendous joy flooded my heart as they told me how wonderful he
sounded and looked! And then to hold him on my chest and see his
little eyes open as he continued to wail in confusion, calming down
briefly as he heard my voice bubbling out words of love all over
him...it was an unspeakably beautiful moment and I am so grateful for
the experience!
---
Out
of everything that remains in my mind and heart from this birth
experience, I most greatly desire for it to be the powerful presence
of Jesus that I sensed during those extremely difficult times. In the
end, all my coping mechanisms helped a good deal, but what remained
the singularly most critical key to making through was Christ's
reassuring nearness. He is with me all day every day – I know that,
although far too often I don't recognize or rely on it. But I am so
grateful to know that – despite my failure to acknowledge Him each
moment He grants me breath – when I am in the depths of pain and
despair, He shows Himself faithful to walk beside me. He truly is “my
refuge, a place of safety when I am in distress” (Psalm 59: 16b).
Equally
important is the truth that all things, the pleasant and the painful,
are working out for God's great plan in our lives and His world. We
will all endure trials, periods of waiting and suffering, but they
will each find an end, whether in this life or the next. They will
all serve a purpose – nothing we go through will be left unredeemed
– it will all be used for His glory and our good. And ultimately,
when we see Christ face to face, we will be so joyful that we won't
even be able to recall the heartaches in this life that now seem so
debilitating. As Jesus Himself said,
“When
a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come,
but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the
anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. So
also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts
will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.”
- John
16: 21-22
