My Son's Birth and What It Taught Me

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 26^th, 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 4^th, 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 15^th). 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!

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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