You've been on my heart a lot lately, first time Mama. I've watched you nearly bursting with anticipation to meet this precious little one you've had the privilege of carrying these past months - and now that time is nearly here. You've done everything to prepare that you could possibly think of: attended classes, read books, chosen names, purchased baby gear, researched all the "things", written up your "birth plan" and now all that remains is just to wait. You dream, and try to remind yourself that you will in fact, meet this baby one day very soon, Lord willing.
So while you're waiting and dreaming, I want to encourage you with some things that I've learned along the way. I don't claim to be an expert on anything, but I'll pass on what wisdom I've gained. :)
Keep An Eternal Perspective. I say this one first, probably because it's the most difficult. When you stand before God one day to give an account for your children, He will not ask you whether or not you chose to vaccinate your children, whether they were breastfed, or bottle-fed, or whether you sent them to private school, public school, or home schooled them. You get the idea. ;) Your calling as a mother is a sacred one: to raise up children in the fear and admonition of the Lord - for His glory, and for His purposes. That, Mama, is your ultimate goal. Period. So when you are having a crisis over which carseat is safest, or whether you should be making your own homemade organic baby food instead of buying the kind at the store, remember your goal. Pray, as Jonathan Edwards did, that God would "stamp eternity on your eyeballs".
Your Marriage Comes First. You've just been given a new identity: Mommy! Your family life will always look different from this point forward. Want to give your children the very best? Focus on your marriage first. Before you were a mother, you were a wife. Someday (I know it's hard to even imagine at this point - and probably will be when you're in the throes of potty training too . . . ) this itty bitty baby will grow up and leave home, and it will be just the two of you once more. Marriage is hard work in the best of times, and there will be plenty of times it will be easy to put it aside because you're so busy with the baby. Don't make that mistake. Children are naturally self centered, and it's doing no one any favors to promote the fallacy that the world revolves around them. Make a point to offer your husband the best, and not just the worn out leftovers. Mentally plan ahead to when he comes home, so that you can engage with him. Make time for intimacy - even if that doesn't look like it did before baby. My kids never did well with a sitter when they were tiny, and you know what? That's okay too! Plan to get the baby down a little sooner one evening, and maybe even make a point to take a nap that day, so you won't be exhausted when your husband comes home. Order dinner in, and make it a "home date" night. Play a board game together. Do something that shows your husband that you are thinking of him - a simple text during the day, making his favorite dessert, etc. You are striving together to model for the world the glorious love between Christ and his Bride, the Church. It takes effort, especially in the little years, but it is so worth it.
Take It With A Grain Of Salt. Probably since the earliest time your baby bump started to make an appearance, everyone and their Uncle has been offering you advice. One of my favorite phrases from an author I've come to respect is: "Eat the meat, and spit out the bones." Your Mom, your best friend, the lady from church, and the well intentioned check out person will all have opinions and ideas about how you should be raising your baby. But here's the thing; God gave this child to you. He has given you the grace you need to raise this baby, and he will continue to do so as you trust in Him. There are so many decisions that come with babies. One friend may say co-sleeping is the only way your baby will feel secure. Your Grandma Hazel may say that rocking the baby for exactly five minutes and putting them in the bassinet to fall asleep on their own is the only way to go. Every child is different. What works for your friend's baby might be something your baby hates. It's your job as Mama to learn the way God wired your baby - and find what works best for your family. The only standard you should be measuring yourself against is the one God has given you. So take a deep breath, relax, and ask God to help you. He is faithful, and he designed motherhood to make you dependent on Him, instead of your own strength.
Keep Yourself Fed. While this is true in the literal sense, especially if you're breastfeeding, it's even more important in the spiritual sense. You need God's word in your ears right now. Get creative with your time - listen to an audio Bible while you're in the shower, or in your headphones while you're taking the baby for a walk. I used to prop up my Bible on a nightstand or end table while I was nursing (especially since in the beginning, those sessions can last for a while!) and read out loud to my baby. At first, yes, you feel completely foolish reading Psalms out loud to your newborn. Do it anyway. What has more worth? God's Word, or "Goodnight Moon"? Certainly, you'll be reading your fair share of sweet bedtime stories too in the years to come. :) Your baby is used to hearing your voice from the safety of that warm space beneath your heart - listening to you read is soothing for them, and helps you focus on the text. You are exhausted, and your body is still recovering, which means your hormones are haywire. You need the Truth in front of your face, and in your ears constantly.
Rest. Really. More than you think you need to. This one is completely counter-cultural especially in our "I-just-had-a-baby-two-weeks-ago-but-I'm-already-back-into-my-skinny-jeans-and-ready-to-go-back-to-work" climate. Your body is healing physically, you need time to adjust emotionally, and your baby will not benefit from a bleary-eyed sleepwalking Mommy, even if the house is immaculate. Give yourself time. As eager as you are to get back to "going and doing", stay at home and rest. Enjoy this time, and give yourself grace to just be. This time will be taxing enough on you without adding lots more activity. Plan to use paper plates. Ask your husband to take over the laundry for a while. Resting is just as much of a discipline as being industrious, and is becoming a "lost art". Find ways to make time for rest. (This will become even more important when you have more babies!)
Hold Your Baby Loosely. I don't mean that swaddling is forbidden. ;) God has given you this precious baby, and given you the awesome task of shepherding her little soul. In the end, though, you are only stewarding her for a time. One day, she will be grown, and it will be your task to "release the arrow" as it were. Remember #1? God has brought this little life into the world in His timing, for His purposes, and He loves her even more than you do. Her life is His hands, and you can rest in that. I used to agonize over the "what if's" with my first baby - "What if she stops breathing in the middle of the night, and I don't realize it? What if we get into an accident and her carseat isn't tight enough? What if she puts something poisonous into her mouth when I'm not looking?" Remember that God has Sovereignly ordained every one of her days, and nothing on this earth can alter His will for her life. (Psalm 139:16)
Be Consistent. Babies and small children thrive on predictability and routine. Aim for the same "bedtime" every night. Try to have naps around the same time every day. Begin as you mean to go. If you're not planning on having to spend half an hour rocking your two year old to sleep for every nap time or bedtime, don't get them accustomed to having it all throughout their babyhood. Please don't misunderstand: rock your baby! By all means! Let Grandma rock your baby to sleep! There is nothing that says you have to adhere rigidly to any kind of "method". Just aim to be consistent in general with the lifestyle your family has. This certainly applies as your baby gets older too. Don't be wishy-washy in your expectations. This takes a lot of work from your end too! It is easier sometimes to ignore bad behavior because you're just too tired to deal with it for the umpteenth time that day. Don't give up. It is not wrong for you to expect a child to obey you. Every time.
Let Your Husband Help. I know this kind of sounds like a no-brainer. I mean, you just gave birth, you're exhausted, and you can use all the help you can get, right?? Especially with your first baby, it is easier sometimes to swoop in because you want to spare your baby the discomfort of Daddy's somewhat less experienced hands than to listen to them struggle to figure it out. He needs this time to learn and grow as a Father just as you are learning and growing. Leave the baby with him for half an hour while you take a long shower. Let him take the baby for a drive. Let him find his way as a Daddy without you "coaching" him as tempting as it might be, or innocent as your intentions may seem. My Mom has told me stories of when I was an infant, and she would be worn out after a day of dealing with a colicky baby, and my Dad would take me into the middle of the living room, sit in a rocking chair, and blast Rock & Roll. And I loved it. It might not make sense to you, but let your husband be a Daddy in his own way.
Stay Humble. This one is especially important. It was so easy for me, before I became a mother, to judge other's children, or their parenting methods. To roll my eyes and say "MY child will never . . . !" In the body of Christ, there is no room for "Mommy Wars". What God has called one mother to, may not be the same as what he has called you to. You may never know the full circumstances behind another family's situation.
You are going to make mistakes. Lots of them. Be willing to admit when you are wrong, and seek forgiveness. There may come a time when you have burned dinner, the washing machine just broke, and your three year old darling just did something that you've told her a thousand times not to do, and you lose it. Our children need to recognize that Mommy & Daddy are sinners too, in need of God's grace, just as they are. Ask her forgiveness, and ask her to pray with you that Jesus would give you patience, and lovingkindness. It is a seriously humbling experience to ask forgiveness from your three year old. Ask me how I know. ;)
Seek Wisdom. Not just "ten steps to getting your baby to sleep through the night" kind of wisdom. Obviously, you've been doing a lot of learning since you found out you were going to embark on this journey of Motherhood. It never stops. Parenting is a constant learning curve. Once you think you have something figured out, you're moving onto some completely new and mystifying experience. Hopefully your primary source of wisdom will come from the Bible, since God has so much to say on the matter, but certainly seek out practical wisdom from other sources as well. Find a family in your church whose children are enjoyable to be around, or even a family who has teens who are respectful and honor their parents, and talk to their parents about the way they raise their kids. Keep reading. Keep praying. Here are some resources that I have found to be valuable:
- Give them Grace - by Elyse Fitzpatrick
- Shepherding A Child's Heart - by Tedd Tripp
- Loving the Little Years - by Rachel Jankovic
- On Becoming Babywise - by Gary Ezzo & Robert Bucknam
- Treasuring Christ When Your Hands Are Full - by Gloria Furman
- Mom Enough: The Fearless Mother's Heart and Hope - by Desiring God
If you're breastfeeding:
- The Nursing Mother's Companion - by Kathleen Huggins
For Family Devotions (you can start these when your toddler is old enough to sit through simple Bible stories!):
- Long Story Short - by Marty Machowski
- Old Story New
For practical advice on Motherhood, and generally Godly Womanhood:
Jessconnell.com
A good (and fun!) way to start your littles learning Scripture:
Sing the Bible with Slugs & Bugs
I am so excited for you as you begin this journey! Motherhood is a refining fire, and through it you will continually be confronted with your own sinfulness, your need for Christ, the beauty of His abundant Grace, and the miracle of His love for you. Nothing can prepare you for the moment when you first lay eyes on flesh of your flesh, and bone of your bone - when you hear for the first time a voice that has never been heard on the face of the earth before - and when you get to know the person God fashioned so exquisitely, in His image, for such a time as this. Enjoy the journey, from a fellow traveler. Congratulations, Mama!
Grace and Peace,
Amanda
Showing posts with label Mothering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mothering. Show all posts
Friday, August 19, 2016
Sunday, March 6, 2016
Julia's Birth Story
I guess I've been feeling a bit wistful these past few days, since we'll be celebrating my baby girl's first birthday on Wednesday! I've been reminiscing lately about this time last year, and I just can't even believe that it's already been a YEAR ago! If you like birth stories, read on. :)
No matter how many times I have heard it before, there is always something so precious about hearing my baby's heartbeat on the monitor. That little whump whump whump sound is music to my ears.
Then it was just on to waiting for contractions to begin! By this point, I was literally ready to do jumping jacks if it came to it to get the show on the road faster - I just wanted to meet our baby!!
By about 9:15, contractions were starting to come fairly regularly, and the doctor stopped in and cheerfully quipped "Hopefully we'll have a baby by lunchtime!" I prayed she would be right! Since this wasn't my first rodeo, I knew that labor tends to go better for me if I am up and moving. The nurses were more than happy to let me get up and walk the halls, in hopes that we could get labor moving well.
Nate is absolutely wonderful. He is willing to do whatever he can to help me through labor and delivery. He is gentle, compassionate, and brave. I could not have gotten through my deliveries without him! Speaking of lifelines, my Mom is an incredible doula! She is calm, knowledgable, and especially since she's my Mom, she is a comfort I could not do without. I was so thankful for these two!
It was so interesting to be walking around the hospital while in labor! Again, this was a new experience, since with the other two, I had either labored at home the majority of the time, or given birth very soon after arriving at the hospital.
Contractions were coming about 5 minutes apart, and getting steadily stronger. I was encouraged! It was also nice to have the diversion of exploring the hospital wing. We actually bumped into our Pediatrician making her rounds, and she was cheerfully surprised to see us there! "I hope I'll see you guys later - that will mean I'll be checking in on a baby!!" :)
Contractions continued to get stronger, and come closer together - they were about 3 minutes apart when I would have to pause, and focus through them. Again, Mom was there with gentle, quiet direction - "Spread your legs apart a bit more to really open up your hips . . . it might help if you sway. Nate, try to put pressure here on her back . . . " etc. So helpful.
Julie was so respectful and quiet - and really just let me labor on my own so long as I was feeling up to it. She would check in with me periodically, and occasionally she'd have me stop back into the room to check the baby's heartbeat.
I was drinking lots of water - as dehydration can really slow things down with labor. Also, I had read somewhere that a full bladder can slow labor as well! I was so paranoid about labor stalling, that I was doing everything I could think of to keep it progressing nicely. I stopped in the room to use the bathroom, and after that, contractions were coming about 2 minutes apart or sometimes closer, and getting pretty intense. Julie wanted to check me to see where we were at, and she said "I think you're around 5 centimeters." To which I exclaimed in dismay, "That's it?!?" She hurriedly said "Well, you might be at a 6 - maybe close to a 7 . . . " I think she was trying to make me feel better. ;) That was about 10:30.
I joked with Nate that the only times I could ever get him to slow dance were on our wedding day, and when I'm birthing his children. ;) At this point, contractions were coming so close that I lost track of how far apart they actually were - and I was also starting to feel pretty nauseous, which to me was an indicator that I was going into transition. I asked Julie if it would be okay for me to get into the tub, as riding out the hardest contractions would be largely alleviated by the warm water!
I made it back into the room, and had a contraction that literally brought me to my knees.
My Mom was quietly coaching me to breathe, and I was just praying for God's grace to get me through this contraction, and the next - and to please bring my baby safely into the world. Things were rolling along at a pretty good clip though - and I was so relieved and thankful that I could avoid Pitocin for the time being!
Being in the water is still, in my opinion the best part of labor. They don't call it a "midwives' epidural" for nothing! :) Again, Julie was so accommodating and respectful as I labored - she kept popping in every few minutes to check the water temperature (since I'd had my water broken, we had to monitor the temperature carefully for safety), or to see if I needed anything. And of course, Nate never left my side. <3
After being in the tub for about 20 minutes, I began to feel a lot of pressure. I called to Julie that I was ready to get out, and she agreed that it would be wise to check my progress. As I laid down on the bed, I felt the baby shift, and commented, "Whoa, something just happened!". I think I gave poor Julie a heart attack! She quickly checked beneath the sheets afraid she was going to find the baby's head popped out! Did I mention that I was ready to meet my baby??
As this was my third time giving birth, I knew what was coming, and I was dreading it. Julie checked me and mentioned to Meredith (our other nurse) that she could call the doctor.
Those last contractions are a beast. It took every ounce of courage I had to focus on the task, and not shrink from the final hurdle I had to clear: pushing. I dread pushing with every fiber in my body. I am not one of those Moms who feel an "urge" to push, nor do I find relief in pushing. It just hurts. Like the Dickens.
My doctor laughed when she came in - "Wow, when I said by lunchtime, you really meant it!" She checked me, had me push once, and then talked me through it.
There is no "easy" part of labor, but for me, this is the worst part. I started to succumb to the pain - I had reached my "I don't know if I can do this anymore" threshold, and my doctor saw it. She reached through my fog, and pulled me back to reality. I love her for it! One more push, and our baby was here!
Julia's birth was definitely the hardest to wait for out of my three babies. I think partly because both of my older kids were a few days early . . . and that trend looked like it would continue with this baby.
I was especially anxious to find out the gender of this baby, as we wanted to be surprised!
February rolled around, and I had convinced myself that I only had a few weeks left (my actual due date was March 6th)! Which just meant I had to really work on my patience when the baby didn't share my timetable. ;)
God placed amazing people in my life to keep reminding me to savor the last days of being a mommy of two, and enjoying each day, whether it involved going into labor, or waking up still pregnant the next morning. I had night after night of steady, uncomfortable contractions, and then, nothing. I was convinced that this baby would never come.
NE-VER.
I have never struggled with the irrational "I-will-truly-be-pregnant-forever" mindset until I was waiting for this baby to be born. My older two kids were easy on me. Olivia was born one day before her due date (especially nice for a first baby!), and Levi was born six days before his due date. I now understand why so many sweet pregnant Mamas have been a breath away from losing their sanity. I have been there! ;)
I tried everything I could think of to "naturally" induce labor. Raspberry leaf tea (I found out later, this really has nothing to do with inducing labor - don't fall into the same trap I did!), Mom and I would go to the mall and "mall walk", climbing stairs two at a time, building a snowman with my kids, my doctor even stripped the membranes twice, to no avail. Let this be a cautionary tale to all you desperate-to-just-give-birth-already Mamas - babies really do come when they're ready to come. God had this little one's book of days numbered before she would ever arrive, and there wasn't anything I, or any doctor could do to force his hand. It did make me feel a little better though to think that maybe one of my attempts would be the time God would give the green light! ;)
Finally, my doctor offered (for the second time) to schedule an induction for March 9, when my baby would be officially overdue. I gratefully accepted this time, and spent the next few days in restless anticipation.
At last, the big day arrived, and I was up before dawn. I had such conflicting emotions that morning. This was such a completely different experience for me. It was nice to have time to shower, and get ready for the day, as opposed to a middle of the night "this is it!" type of situation. But I was apprehensive that labor would stall, and because of the induction there would be more hospital interventions - and there were so many "what if's" associated with that. I really, really wanted to have a quick, natural delivery like my other two had been (Levi's was only two hours, unmedicated! I'd take that any day!!). I had so many butterflies!
Checking in this time was so surreal! Instead of arriving at the hospital in full blown hard labor, we casually walked in with our suitcase, and it was more like checking into a hotel! Instead of being hooked up to a fetal monitor in triage, we were taken directly to the birthing suite. We arrived at around 7:30, and by the time I was admitted, changed, and had my hep lock started, it was pushing 8:30 before they were ready to break my water, and get the party started.
If you notice, our nurse's name was Julie this time. She was phenomenal. She said she had been doing this for (I think?) around 25 years. I loved her to pieces! We had another nurse who was helping out and learning the ropes, and she was also very gentle and respectful. I really don't have enough good things to say about the staff at St Luke's.
Even little things like writing down the sibling's names, so all the staff know who to expect and who to congratulate when the baby arrives. :)
After they got me all hooked up to the fetal monitor, I was ready for the nurse to start labor (we hoped!).
Then it was just on to waiting for contractions to begin! By this point, I was literally ready to do jumping jacks if it came to it to get the show on the road faster - I just wanted to meet our baby!!
By about 9:15, contractions were starting to come fairly regularly, and the doctor stopped in and cheerfully quipped "Hopefully we'll have a baby by lunchtime!" I prayed she would be right! Since this wasn't my first rodeo, I knew that labor tends to go better for me if I am up and moving. The nurses were more than happy to let me get up and walk the halls, in hopes that we could get labor moving well.
Nate is absolutely wonderful. He is willing to do whatever he can to help me through labor and delivery. He is gentle, compassionate, and brave. I could not have gotten through my deliveries without him! Speaking of lifelines, my Mom is an incredible doula! She is calm, knowledgable, and especially since she's my Mom, she is a comfort I could not do without. I was so thankful for these two!
It was so interesting to be walking around the hospital while in labor! Again, this was a new experience, since with the other two, I had either labored at home the majority of the time, or given birth very soon after arriving at the hospital.
Contractions were coming about 5 minutes apart, and getting steadily stronger. I was encouraged! It was also nice to have the diversion of exploring the hospital wing. We actually bumped into our Pediatrician making her rounds, and she was cheerfully surprised to see us there! "I hope I'll see you guys later - that will mean I'll be checking in on a baby!!" :)
Contractions continued to get stronger, and come closer together - they were about 3 minutes apart when I would have to pause, and focus through them. Again, Mom was there with gentle, quiet direction - "Spread your legs apart a bit more to really open up your hips . . . it might help if you sway. Nate, try to put pressure here on her back . . . " etc. So helpful.
Really though, between contractions, I was feeling good!
Julie was so respectful and quiet - and really just let me labor on my own so long as I was feeling up to it. She would check in with me periodically, and occasionally she'd have me stop back into the room to check the baby's heartbeat.
I was drinking lots of water - as dehydration can really slow things down with labor. Also, I had read somewhere that a full bladder can slow labor as well! I was so paranoid about labor stalling, that I was doing everything I could think of to keep it progressing nicely. I stopped in the room to use the bathroom, and after that, contractions were coming about 2 minutes apart or sometimes closer, and getting pretty intense. Julie wanted to check me to see where we were at, and she said "I think you're around 5 centimeters." To which I exclaimed in dismay, "That's it?!?" She hurriedly said "Well, you might be at a 6 - maybe close to a 7 . . . " I think she was trying to make me feel better. ;) That was about 10:30.
I joked with Nate that the only times I could ever get him to slow dance were on our wedding day, and when I'm birthing his children. ;) At this point, contractions were coming so close that I lost track of how far apart they actually were - and I was also starting to feel pretty nauseous, which to me was an indicator that I was going into transition. I asked Julie if it would be okay for me to get into the tub, as riding out the hardest contractions would be largely alleviated by the warm water!
I made it back into the room, and had a contraction that literally brought me to my knees.
My Mom was quietly coaching me to breathe, and I was just praying for God's grace to get me through this contraction, and the next - and to please bring my baby safely into the world. Things were rolling along at a pretty good clip though - and I was so relieved and thankful that I could avoid Pitocin for the time being!
Being in the water is still, in my opinion the best part of labor. They don't call it a "midwives' epidural" for nothing! :) Again, Julie was so accommodating and respectful as I labored - she kept popping in every few minutes to check the water temperature (since I'd had my water broken, we had to monitor the temperature carefully for safety), or to see if I needed anything. And of course, Nate never left my side. <3
After being in the tub for about 20 minutes, I began to feel a lot of pressure. I called to Julie that I was ready to get out, and she agreed that it would be wise to check my progress. As I laid down on the bed, I felt the baby shift, and commented, "Whoa, something just happened!". I think I gave poor Julie a heart attack! She quickly checked beneath the sheets afraid she was going to find the baby's head popped out! Did I mention that I was ready to meet my baby??
As this was my third time giving birth, I knew what was coming, and I was dreading it. Julie checked me and mentioned to Meredith (our other nurse) that she could call the doctor.
Those last contractions are a beast. It took every ounce of courage I had to focus on the task, and not shrink from the final hurdle I had to clear: pushing. I dread pushing with every fiber in my body. I am not one of those Moms who feel an "urge" to push, nor do I find relief in pushing. It just hurts. Like the Dickens.
My doctor laughed when she came in - "Wow, when I said by lunchtime, you really meant it!" She checked me, had me push once, and then talked me through it.
There is no "easy" part of labor, but for me, this is the worst part. I started to succumb to the pain - I had reached my "I don't know if I can do this anymore" threshold, and my doctor saw it. She reached through my fog, and pulled me back to reality. I love her for it! One more push, and our baby was here!
There are no words in the English language to describe what is emblazoned on your heart in this moment. It is a powerful, spiritual thing to behold life beginning - flesh of your flesh, and bone of your bone.
And the moment we had all been waiting for . . .
It's a . . . GIRL!!
Joy. Relief. Shock! Love. Thankfulness. My heart swelled with so many emotions all at once.
The nurse asked us what her name was. I looked at Nate. Julia? He nodded. Julia. Julia Elise.
And she was here. At last! Our precious baby girl. I just marveled that God would choose me to be the vessel He so skillfully wove her together inside.
I held her close to my heart for a long time before the staff weighed and measured her. This hospital really is incredible at births!
Our sweet Julia Elise came in at 7 lbs 6 oz, and 21 3/4" long. She was my smallest, and longest baby of the three! Born at 11:13 am.
About an hour after the birth, I got up to move to the rocking chair, so that the staff could "turn the room" and I felt great! I ate lunch, and my Mom left to go back and give my big kids the good news. My sister arrived to meet her littlest niece, and I enjoyed hearing how my big kids had fared with her over the course of the morning.
After eating lunch, I stood up to use the bathroom, and lost a lot of blood. Now, having just given birth, I didn't think too much of it - they had had a bit of trouble getting the placenta out, however, so I figured I should at least let our nurse know.
Things got a little crazy after that. She began kneading my stomach, and called in another nurse. Julie's shift had ended, so we had a bunch of new nurses. They called in more nurses, who called in the doctor. I was in a lot of pain by this point, as they were pushing as hard as they could, and I hadn't had any pain meds during the birth - and I was still losing a lot of blood.
My doctor let me know that they would need to get me back to the OR, and that it was most likely just a stubborn piece of placenta that hadn't come all the way out. They had to start another IV line, and since I had already eaten, the anesthesiologist had me drink some really bad tasting magic potion that would prevent asphyxiation once I was put under if my lunch decided to make another appearance. One of the nurses started pushing forms at me to sign, and at one point, I heard "the worst case scenario is that we would need to do a hysterectomy . . . " and at that point everything else started to become a blur.
I just remember thinking, "what about my baby? Who is holding my baby?"
Nate was worried, understandably, and trying to remain calm and supportive as they wheeled me back to the OR. The nurse said, "Give her one more kiss!" and at that point, we both lost it. I remember whispering something to the effect of "go snuggle our new baby" and that I loved him, and then it was into the OR and under the anesthesia I went.
All in all, the whole procedure was very fast, and successful, and they were able to bring me back to the room a couple of hours later. My sister (bless her heart!) had stayed the entire time to be with Nate, who was pacing the floor and furiously texting updates to my Mom, who was at this point back at home with our kids.
Although feeling at that point like I'd been hit by a train, I was so. thankful. Thankful that it was over, and that I was holding my healthy baby safely in my arms. I was thankful for my husband's warm embrace, and thankful that God had mercifully brought me to the other side of yet another delivery.
She is absolute perfection.
And honestly? Worth every single moment of that labor. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.
For the beauty of the earth, for the glory of the skies, for the love which from our birth, over and around us lies. Lord of all, to Thee we raise - this, our hymn of grateful praise.
Thanks to Today Everlasting Photography for the priceless photos!
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
One Of Those Days
Today has been one of those days that makes you want to cry. Or laugh. Or both. Sometimes at the same time. It's been a long day. You know the kind.
It was a sneaky day, because it really started out fairly well. I got a decent amount of sleep last night, well, comparatively anyway . . . and greeted the day with faith-filled optimism.
And then it was breakfast time. You could almost hear that rubber hitting the road. ;) Levi was following me around the kitchen begging "I want MEEEELK-shake!! I want strawberry MEEEEELK-SHAKE!" (we call Kefir strawberry milkshake at our house. haha) I reminded myself that love is patient, and kind - and responded calmly "that's not how you ask, Levi."
Of course, we repeated this process about 15 times before he was seated at the table happily with his breakfast. Scrambled eggs, "breakfast cookie" (one of those organic Aussie bites from Costco, those things are amazing!), and raspberries, blueberries, and strawberries. I thought this breakfast looked delicious! Levi, on the other hand, proceeded to complain that "I don't like scrambled eggs! These are yucky!"
Ugh. Mealtime battles. AGAIN. No matter, I said. If he doesn't like it, really, doesn't like it, I can commiserate. I used to loathe scrambled eggs as a kid too. He ate all the other stuff, and I let him off the hook after three bites of eggs. Okay, breakfast hurdle cleared! I get Julia bathed, dressed, and down for her morning nap. On to packing up for "park day" as the kids call it.
Some sweet Mom friends all meet at a park one day a week throughout the summer, and pack lunches, and hang out while the kids all get to enjoy each other and the park. I'll be honest; I look forward to this every week, but today, it felt like a lifeline. With Nate traveling, I have not had another grown-up in my house to talk to for a lot of days. ;) Needless to say, I was as anxious as the kids were today to get out the door. I looked at the clock - 9 am. We were all supposed to meet around 10.
I got the kids dressed, and judging from the cool, cloudy weather, decided not to put their bathing suits on them quite yet. The park has a splash pad, but I wasn't sure we would be needing it today. :) I started packing lunches, and right in the middle of salami and provolone, Julia woke up. That girl has impeccable timing.
I went in and decided it had been long enough that she might be getting hungry, so I sat down in the rocking chair in our bedroom to feed her. This morning Olivia and Levi decided that it was a good time to run around the house screaming with the dog (apparently a.k.a. the "poof monster") who was going to "fire" them. Their screaming is keeping Julia from eating, because she's trying to see what on earth is going on over there, so I admonish the kids to use inside voices, and if they want to be in the room with me right now, they need to sit. Olivia will always jump at the chance to sit on my bed and talk, but Levi was off playing by himself. He came back in the room a few minutes later, and Olivia said "Wevi, what's that black stuff stuck to your leg?"
If you have toddlers in diapers at home, it probably won't take three guesses for you to figure out what she was talking about. Especially after she got down off my bed to sniff said mystery substance on her brother's leg. All for Mama to observe from the rocking chair while feeding the fussing baby. Laugh/cry moment number one! I laid Julia down to survey the damage. It wasn't pretty. Down his leg, and all over my bedroom carpeting, with a lovely trail on the floor in the hall, the rug, he got it EV-REY-WHERE. So gross. The clock says 9:45. Well, we won't be there at 10 today. Oh well.
I take him upstairs to change him, including a new outfit, and go back into my room to give Julia her pacifier before continuing to clean up the minefield all over the floor. After everything was sufficiently disinfected, I wash up and get back to lunches. Julia is still fussing, so I ask Olivia to go in and talk to her while I finish getting things packed up. I come back in to find Olivia hiding purposely in a corner where Julia can't see her to avoid any implications of sisterly affection. Awesome. I am struggling to be patient at this point, and avoid saying something snarky about what a loving thing that was to do.
By the time I get lunches, diaper bags, and park gear out the door, kids buckled into carseats, and back out of my driveway, it is pushing 10:45. Why is it that trying to get 3 kids out the door is like herding cats with your arm tied behind your back? Not every day, sure, but today - it felt like I was trying to move out of my house!
We arrive at the park, and I start getting Julia into the baby carrier so that I will be able to carry her, and have enough free hands to carry all the stuff. I have the older two kids waiting in the grass as I walk around to the back of the van to get one last thing. Our van has automatic doors, and I had just pushed the button to close the side door. Not two seconds after I am behind the van, I hear a bloodcurdling scream from Levi. I drop what I had in my hands, and run over to find his left hand latched into the door. I quickly get him free, and soothe the sore fingers on his chubby hand with kisses. Never mind that I've told him a thousand times to keep his hands away from the doors.
It was just a short walk from the van to the picnic table where everyone had gathered, but as soon as I got there, Julia spit up all over the place. Because I'm wearing her, it goes straight down my shirt, and all over her front too. I had set the bags down in the grass, and as I bend to fish out a burp rag, I notice a big 'ol Daddy Long Legs sitting on the edge of the diaper bag. *shudder* I tried to shoo it off with my sunglasses, and instead it crawled into the diaper bag. That was just the first of many, as I later discovered. Oh dear.
Neither Olivia or Levi thought it prudent to wait for bathing suits to play in the splash pad, so at this point I concede that they are getting baths when we get home regardless, and decide to just let them play. However, changing them into their suits was supposed to be my reminder to put sunscreen on them. Whoops.
We leave the park to head home for nap time, and I get the kids all bathed and dressed and ready for their naps without incident. I'm starting to regain some semblance of Mommy confidence! As lots of Mommies can attest, nap time is the time for sanity to reappear (most days). ;) I get them settled in, and remind them that they are not to get out of their beds, or play in their beds, or make loud noises, etc. etc.
Levi does not heed Mama's voice. Sometimes I think that kid likes getting disciplined. Finally after the third time and he's still being disruptive, I decide to cut my losses and just make him go to bed early. Better than him waking the other two who were sleeping. I scolded him again, and told him that if he must stay awake, he would be doing it on the couch downstairs where he couldn't disturb his sleeping sisters.
Then, for a few blessed moments, I sat quietly, ate my lunch, and collected my thoughts.
The day suddenly took a turn for the better.
I decided that after nap time, we were going for Chinese food. Because, you know, that would make the day seem . . . happier. And I was too tired to think about cooking dinner. haha
So we did! And the kids loved it. Olivia kept saying "MMMM! This is my favorite dinner ever!" Then they both asked for seconds! I guess sometimes it really is more fun to eat something when it's not the same old stuff your Mom makes. ;)
As soon as we got home, before we even went into the house, I rounded everyone up for our evening walk. It was a beautiful evening. We saw a deer come bounding out of the woods, and run up ahead of us a little before pausing to eat some of the mulberries that had fallen on the path. Olivia was thrilled to have also seen a bunny, and she picked me some clover and declared that today was "flower day". She handed it to me with an "I just love you so much, Mommy." Win.
We were out at that magic hour when everything was bathed in golden light, and my heart felt lighter too. I was pondering something I'd heard very recently: even on days like this, it is essential that I remember that God is on his throne. He is sovereignly in control of the circumstances of my life no matter how difficult or even petty they may seem. Jesus goes before me to prepare the path for my feet, he walks beside me as I mother my children, and he comes behind me to clean up my junk when I don't get it right. I am not alone.
I'm sure I will look back on this day in ten years and wish for the time when my day was only filled with cleaning up messy diapers, and spit up, and battling nap times. Yet, I don't want to miss this. There are heart issues here that require training too. I am raising up the next generation and training them up in faith that they will prayerfully belong to Jesus someday. This is no small thing! I love my children, and I have always wanted to be a Mommy, but it is hard. work. Beautiful? Yes. Rewarding? Beyond a shadow of a doubt. And day in and day out, through the mundane and extraordinary, this is where the battle is being wrought.
As I tucked my slightly sunburned, rosy cheeked little loves in tonight, and breathed in the faint smell of baby soap on their skin, I pleaded with God again to draw their little hearts to himself. These days when I am overwhelmed, exhausted, and not as Christ-like in my parenting as I would wish - I ask him to redeem my failures, and use them for his glory.
I listened to the kids singing their "night-night song" Praise God from whom all blessings flow . . .
Yes. Always, yes.
It was a sneaky day, because it really started out fairly well. I got a decent amount of sleep last night, well, comparatively anyway . . . and greeted the day with faith-filled optimism.
And then it was breakfast time. You could almost hear that rubber hitting the road. ;) Levi was following me around the kitchen begging "I want MEEEELK-shake!! I want strawberry MEEEEELK-SHAKE!" (we call Kefir strawberry milkshake at our house. haha) I reminded myself that love is patient, and kind - and responded calmly "that's not how you ask, Levi."
Of course, we repeated this process about 15 times before he was seated at the table happily with his breakfast. Scrambled eggs, "breakfast cookie" (one of those organic Aussie bites from Costco, those things are amazing!), and raspberries, blueberries, and strawberries. I thought this breakfast looked delicious! Levi, on the other hand, proceeded to complain that "I don't like scrambled eggs! These are yucky!"
Ugh. Mealtime battles. AGAIN. No matter, I said. If he doesn't like it, really, doesn't like it, I can commiserate. I used to loathe scrambled eggs as a kid too. He ate all the other stuff, and I let him off the hook after three bites of eggs. Okay, breakfast hurdle cleared! I get Julia bathed, dressed, and down for her morning nap. On to packing up for "park day" as the kids call it.
Some sweet Mom friends all meet at a park one day a week throughout the summer, and pack lunches, and hang out while the kids all get to enjoy each other and the park. I'll be honest; I look forward to this every week, but today, it felt like a lifeline. With Nate traveling, I have not had another grown-up in my house to talk to for a lot of days. ;) Needless to say, I was as anxious as the kids were today to get out the door. I looked at the clock - 9 am. We were all supposed to meet around 10.
I got the kids dressed, and judging from the cool, cloudy weather, decided not to put their bathing suits on them quite yet. The park has a splash pad, but I wasn't sure we would be needing it today. :) I started packing lunches, and right in the middle of salami and provolone, Julia woke up. That girl has impeccable timing.
I went in and decided it had been long enough that she might be getting hungry, so I sat down in the rocking chair in our bedroom to feed her. This morning Olivia and Levi decided that it was a good time to run around the house screaming with the dog (apparently a.k.a. the "poof monster") who was going to "fire" them. Their screaming is keeping Julia from eating, because she's trying to see what on earth is going on over there, so I admonish the kids to use inside voices, and if they want to be in the room with me right now, they need to sit. Olivia will always jump at the chance to sit on my bed and talk, but Levi was off playing by himself. He came back in the room a few minutes later, and Olivia said "Wevi, what's that black stuff stuck to your leg?"
If you have toddlers in diapers at home, it probably won't take three guesses for you to figure out what she was talking about. Especially after she got down off my bed to sniff said mystery substance on her brother's leg. All for Mama to observe from the rocking chair while feeding the fussing baby. Laugh/cry moment number one! I laid Julia down to survey the damage. It wasn't pretty. Down his leg, and all over my bedroom carpeting, with a lovely trail on the floor in the hall, the rug, he got it EV-REY-WHERE. So gross. The clock says 9:45. Well, we won't be there at 10 today. Oh well.
I take him upstairs to change him, including a new outfit, and go back into my room to give Julia her pacifier before continuing to clean up the minefield all over the floor. After everything was sufficiently disinfected, I wash up and get back to lunches. Julia is still fussing, so I ask Olivia to go in and talk to her while I finish getting things packed up. I come back in to find Olivia hiding purposely in a corner where Julia can't see her to avoid any implications of sisterly affection. Awesome. I am struggling to be patient at this point, and avoid saying something snarky about what a loving thing that was to do.
By the time I get lunches, diaper bags, and park gear out the door, kids buckled into carseats, and back out of my driveway, it is pushing 10:45. Why is it that trying to get 3 kids out the door is like herding cats with your arm tied behind your back? Not every day, sure, but today - it felt like I was trying to move out of my house!
We arrive at the park, and I start getting Julia into the baby carrier so that I will be able to carry her, and have enough free hands to carry all the stuff. I have the older two kids waiting in the grass as I walk around to the back of the van to get one last thing. Our van has automatic doors, and I had just pushed the button to close the side door. Not two seconds after I am behind the van, I hear a bloodcurdling scream from Levi. I drop what I had in my hands, and run over to find his left hand latched into the door. I quickly get him free, and soothe the sore fingers on his chubby hand with kisses. Never mind that I've told him a thousand times to keep his hands away from the doors.
It was just a short walk from the van to the picnic table where everyone had gathered, but as soon as I got there, Julia spit up all over the place. Because I'm wearing her, it goes straight down my shirt, and all over her front too. I had set the bags down in the grass, and as I bend to fish out a burp rag, I notice a big 'ol Daddy Long Legs sitting on the edge of the diaper bag. *shudder* I tried to shoo it off with my sunglasses, and instead it crawled into the diaper bag. That was just the first of many, as I later discovered. Oh dear.
Neither Olivia or Levi thought it prudent to wait for bathing suits to play in the splash pad, so at this point I concede that they are getting baths when we get home regardless, and decide to just let them play. However, changing them into their suits was supposed to be my reminder to put sunscreen on them. Whoops.
We leave the park to head home for nap time, and I get the kids all bathed and dressed and ready for their naps without incident. I'm starting to regain some semblance of Mommy confidence! As lots of Mommies can attest, nap time is the time for sanity to reappear (most days). ;) I get them settled in, and remind them that they are not to get out of their beds, or play in their beds, or make loud noises, etc. etc.
Levi does not heed Mama's voice. Sometimes I think that kid likes getting disciplined. Finally after the third time and he's still being disruptive, I decide to cut my losses and just make him go to bed early. Better than him waking the other two who were sleeping. I scolded him again, and told him that if he must stay awake, he would be doing it on the couch downstairs where he couldn't disturb his sleeping sisters.
Then, for a few blessed moments, I sat quietly, ate my lunch, and collected my thoughts.
The day suddenly took a turn for the better.
I decided that after nap time, we were going for Chinese food. Because, you know, that would make the day seem . . . happier. And I was too tired to think about cooking dinner. haha
So we did! And the kids loved it. Olivia kept saying "MMMM! This is my favorite dinner ever!" Then they both asked for seconds! I guess sometimes it really is more fun to eat something when it's not the same old stuff your Mom makes. ;)
As soon as we got home, before we even went into the house, I rounded everyone up for our evening walk. It was a beautiful evening. We saw a deer come bounding out of the woods, and run up ahead of us a little before pausing to eat some of the mulberries that had fallen on the path. Olivia was thrilled to have also seen a bunny, and she picked me some clover and declared that today was "flower day". She handed it to me with an "I just love you so much, Mommy." Win.
We were out at that magic hour when everything was bathed in golden light, and my heart felt lighter too. I was pondering something I'd heard very recently: even on days like this, it is essential that I remember that God is on his throne. He is sovereignly in control of the circumstances of my life no matter how difficult or even petty they may seem. Jesus goes before me to prepare the path for my feet, he walks beside me as I mother my children, and he comes behind me to clean up my junk when I don't get it right. I am not alone.
I'm sure I will look back on this day in ten years and wish for the time when my day was only filled with cleaning up messy diapers, and spit up, and battling nap times. Yet, I don't want to miss this. There are heart issues here that require training too. I am raising up the next generation and training them up in faith that they will prayerfully belong to Jesus someday. This is no small thing! I love my children, and I have always wanted to be a Mommy, but it is hard. work. Beautiful? Yes. Rewarding? Beyond a shadow of a doubt. And day in and day out, through the mundane and extraordinary, this is where the battle is being wrought.
As I tucked my slightly sunburned, rosy cheeked little loves in tonight, and breathed in the faint smell of baby soap on their skin, I pleaded with God again to draw their little hearts to himself. These days when I am overwhelmed, exhausted, and not as Christ-like in my parenting as I would wish - I ask him to redeem my failures, and use them for his glory.
I listened to the kids singing their "night-night song" Praise God from whom all blessings flow . . .
Yes. Always, yes.
Saturday, January 17, 2015
Olivia's Birth Story
Maybe it's just because I'm preparing for the birth of my third child, but having babies has been on my mind a lot lately. :) It occurred to me that I had never written Olivia's birth story down anywhere, so I thought I'd share it here - for all you birth junkies out there. haha *Disclaimer* This is a long post, and while not graphic, I am sharing the real life details of Olivia's birth, so read on with caution! :)
I'd been having Braxton Hicks contractions for weeks, and at my last appointment my doctor had said I was dilated to 2 centimeters, and 90% effaced. Since this was my first baby, she still wasn't convinced that labor would start soon. In fact, since my Mom had been 10 days overdue with me, the doctor had informed me that late babies tend to be hereditary, and that there was a good possibly I would go late with this one too. Since my official due date was March 12, we were hoping for a special "late" baby that would come on my Dad's birthday - March 16th.
Fast forward a few days ahead, to March 10th (my niece's birthday), and I had been having lots of Braxton Hicks contractions all day - but still nothing really unusual. Nate and I decided to go to dinner that night, and on the way there, I called my niece. After birthday wishes, she handed the phone to my sister, who joked "Am I going to get a phone call later tonight?" since she was planning to attend the birth (and lived 5 hours away). I laughed, and assured her that this wasn't the beginning of labor.
After dinner, I thought I had an upset stomach from something I ate, and continued to ignore the more frequent, but still painless contractions. Finally, around 9 pm, they started getting more "serious" and Nate decided that it wouldn't be a bad idea to start timing them. "Just in case". I had expected labor to feel so different - and painful. This felt more like stomach pains. I commented to Nate that I would feel better if we packed a bag (since we'd put that off with the false assumption that we had "plenty of time") for the hospital.
Nate suggested that I call my Mom, and let her know what was going on, since I'd wanted to have her present at the birth. By this point it was getting late, and I knew she'd already be in bed - with a workday before her the next day. I really wasn't convinced that this was labor, and I didn't want to be one of "those" moms who ended up in the hospital only to be sent home later. I commented that we should wait a little longer, until we were sure. After all, it was going to be a three and a half hour drive for her, and I didn't want it to be in vain. "Well, would you be more sad if you called her for a false alarm, or because you waited too long to call, and she missed the birth?" my wise husband admonished me . . .
I decided to take a shower, since my lower back was bothering me, and I thought standing under the warm water would help. By this point, Nate was following me around the house (in between throwing stuff, literally - into a suitcase) timing the contractions. They were coming every 5 minutes, and getting more and more intense. At around 11:30, I called the hospital with the "I think I might be in labor, but I'm not sure" speech. The kind nurse was so helpful on the phone, and encouraged me to stay at home as long as I was comfortable. She said that as long as I could still talk through contractions, it was probably okay for me to wait to come in, since this was my first. Also, we live 5 minutes from the hospital, and we weren't anticipating much traffic at that time of night if we needed to make a dash for it. ;)
At midnight, I called my Mom, and apologized profusely for waking her. "I think I'm in labor, but we're still at home". We had plenty of time, right? This was my first baby, after all - I really wasn't feeling in a hurry. Thankfully, she already had her bag packed, and in the car. All she had to do was get dressed, and she was on her way. I also called my sister, much to her amusement. We had finished packing, and then I started, um, cleaning. Haha! I figured if we had called my Mom and Sister, even if this was a false alarm, they'll still be staying with us for a few days, and I wanted my bathroom to be clean! By this point, it was taking effort to breathe through the contractions, and Nate was getting awfully nervous. I remember leaning over the bathroom sink, encouraging him, "I can still talk! It's okay, Honey!" Looking back, this seems ridiculous, but I wanted to put a little make up on before we left for the hospital, because if this was true labor, I wanted to feel pretty. So silly.
By the time I had cleaned, and put a little make-up on, my contractions were coming every two minutes, and Nate was really *strongly* suggesting that we head over to the hospital. I finally agreed that yes, that sounded like a pretty good idea. Unfortunately, by this point I was also starting to feel pretty nauseous, and the car ride to the hospital, short though it was, was pretty unpleasant. By the time we got there, I had to lean on Nate for support and breathe through another contraction before we even entered the hospital. It was close to 2 in the morning, and as it was in the wee hours of a Friday morning, both of us had been up since the weekday morning before - so we were running on sheer adrenaline.
By the time I had been checked in and settled into a room, they informed me that I was 6 cm dilated. I was relieved that I really was in labor (I obviously wasn't thinking clearly anymore, haha!) and that I had labored so far on my own at home. Things kept rolling along at a good clip, and soon I was in "transition." The nurse had observed that I had a LOT of amniotic fluid, and that each time she checked me, my bag of waters would probably break. It never did, so she offered to go ahead and do it to get me closer to pushing. By that point, I wanted to do anything that would get the delivery there sooner! Nate had been calling/texting my Mom updates the whole time, and she was starting to panic that she would miss it! By the time she arrived, I was 8 1/2 cm dilated, and as she had never been to the hospital, she had actually parked near the ER entrance, and had to run, with all her heavy camera gear, across the hospital campus to the Labor and Delivery building for fear of missing the birth. My Mom is a trooper!
Nate was the perfect coach through the whole thing. He never left my side, even to use the bathroom. We had taken one of those "labor prep" classes, so he knew all sorts of different massage techniques, and then I didn't even want to be touched. We had prepared some music to listen to during the birth, but then when it came to it, I decided I wanted absolute quiet. I had always known I wanted to at least attempt labor with no pain meds, but I underestimated the amount of concentration I would need to focus on getting through the contractions without them.
Also, I think I was far too worried about my surroundings. I was too afraid of what the nurse would think of me if I groaned, etc. Speaking of nurses, ours were absolutely amazing. We were assigned one labor/delivery nurse for the duration of her shift, and she was incredible. She was cheerful, encouraging, and pretty much stayed out of the way unless I asked for her, or something needed to be checked, etc. She informed us that she used to be a truck driver (I know, right?) and she'd seen pretty much everything. She kept reassuring me that she was so thankful for a nice, normal couple! ha! I couldn't have asked for a better nurse. She really was more like a doula.
Finally around 6:30, I was dilated enough that they told me I could start pushing. This part, for me, was the worst. By this point, I was just so exhausted, and my pushing wasn't very effective. Again, first time, and I had no idea what I was doing. Also, I know that for a lot of Mamas, pushing actually makes them feel better. For me, with every push, it increased the pressure, and therefore pain. I was never one of those Moms who felt the "urge" to push. My sister finally arrived around this point too, and the poor thing had the same parking/running snafu that my Mom did! The only difference was, she was 6 months pregnant herself! I think she came into the room while I was in the middle of a contraction/pushing, and she was a little bit terrified. ;)
The nurses changed shifts at 7 am, but ours was kind enough to come back in, because she knew I was so close, and had been with me all night. She said she wanted to see the baby! Also, my doctor was part of a large practice, so when you are admitted to the hospital, you usually just have whoever is on call. God in his kindness that night had arranged for MY doctor to be there! It just so happened that her shift ended at 7 am also. Do you know, she was so awesome that she actually stayed late, to be there for the delivery? :)
I'd been having Braxton Hicks contractions for weeks, and at my last appointment my doctor had said I was dilated to 2 centimeters, and 90% effaced. Since this was my first baby, she still wasn't convinced that labor would start soon. In fact, since my Mom had been 10 days overdue with me, the doctor had informed me that late babies tend to be hereditary, and that there was a good possibly I would go late with this one too. Since my official due date was March 12, we were hoping for a special "late" baby that would come on my Dad's birthday - March 16th.
Fast forward a few days ahead, to March 10th (my niece's birthday), and I had been having lots of Braxton Hicks contractions all day - but still nothing really unusual. Nate and I decided to go to dinner that night, and on the way there, I called my niece. After birthday wishes, she handed the phone to my sister, who joked "Am I going to get a phone call later tonight?" since she was planning to attend the birth (and lived 5 hours away). I laughed, and assured her that this wasn't the beginning of labor.
After dinner, I thought I had an upset stomach from something I ate, and continued to ignore the more frequent, but still painless contractions. Finally, around 9 pm, they started getting more "serious" and Nate decided that it wouldn't be a bad idea to start timing them. "Just in case". I had expected labor to feel so different - and painful. This felt more like stomach pains. I commented to Nate that I would feel better if we packed a bag (since we'd put that off with the false assumption that we had "plenty of time") for the hospital.
Nate suggested that I call my Mom, and let her know what was going on, since I'd wanted to have her present at the birth. By this point it was getting late, and I knew she'd already be in bed - with a workday before her the next day. I really wasn't convinced that this was labor, and I didn't want to be one of "those" moms who ended up in the hospital only to be sent home later. I commented that we should wait a little longer, until we were sure. After all, it was going to be a three and a half hour drive for her, and I didn't want it to be in vain. "Well, would you be more sad if you called her for a false alarm, or because you waited too long to call, and she missed the birth?" my wise husband admonished me . . .
I decided to take a shower, since my lower back was bothering me, and I thought standing under the warm water would help. By this point, Nate was following me around the house (in between throwing stuff, literally - into a suitcase) timing the contractions. They were coming every 5 minutes, and getting more and more intense. At around 11:30, I called the hospital with the "I think I might be in labor, but I'm not sure" speech. The kind nurse was so helpful on the phone, and encouraged me to stay at home as long as I was comfortable. She said that as long as I could still talk through contractions, it was probably okay for me to wait to come in, since this was my first. Also, we live 5 minutes from the hospital, and we weren't anticipating much traffic at that time of night if we needed to make a dash for it. ;)
At midnight, I called my Mom, and apologized profusely for waking her. "I think I'm in labor, but we're still at home". We had plenty of time, right? This was my first baby, after all - I really wasn't feeling in a hurry. Thankfully, she already had her bag packed, and in the car. All she had to do was get dressed, and she was on her way. I also called my sister, much to her amusement. We had finished packing, and then I started, um, cleaning. Haha! I figured if we had called my Mom and Sister, even if this was a false alarm, they'll still be staying with us for a few days, and I wanted my bathroom to be clean! By this point, it was taking effort to breathe through the contractions, and Nate was getting awfully nervous. I remember leaning over the bathroom sink, encouraging him, "I can still talk! It's okay, Honey!" Looking back, this seems ridiculous, but I wanted to put a little make up on before we left for the hospital, because if this was true labor, I wanted to feel pretty. So silly.
By the time I had cleaned, and put a little make-up on, my contractions were coming every two minutes, and Nate was really *strongly* suggesting that we head over to the hospital. I finally agreed that yes, that sounded like a pretty good idea. Unfortunately, by this point I was also starting to feel pretty nauseous, and the car ride to the hospital, short though it was, was pretty unpleasant. By the time we got there, I had to lean on Nate for support and breathe through another contraction before we even entered the hospital. It was close to 2 in the morning, and as it was in the wee hours of a Friday morning, both of us had been up since the weekday morning before - so we were running on sheer adrenaline.
By the time I had been checked in and settled into a room, they informed me that I was 6 cm dilated. I was relieved that I really was in labor (I obviously wasn't thinking clearly anymore, haha!) and that I had labored so far on my own at home. Things kept rolling along at a good clip, and soon I was in "transition." The nurse had observed that I had a LOT of amniotic fluid, and that each time she checked me, my bag of waters would probably break. It never did, so she offered to go ahead and do it to get me closer to pushing. By that point, I wanted to do anything that would get the delivery there sooner! Nate had been calling/texting my Mom updates the whole time, and she was starting to panic that she would miss it! By the time she arrived, I was 8 1/2 cm dilated, and as she had never been to the hospital, she had actually parked near the ER entrance, and had to run, with all her heavy camera gear, across the hospital campus to the Labor and Delivery building for fear of missing the birth. My Mom is a trooper!
Nate was the perfect coach through the whole thing. He never left my side, even to use the bathroom. We had taken one of those "labor prep" classes, so he knew all sorts of different massage techniques, and then I didn't even want to be touched. We had prepared some music to listen to during the birth, but then when it came to it, I decided I wanted absolute quiet. I had always known I wanted to at least attempt labor with no pain meds, but I underestimated the amount of concentration I would need to focus on getting through the contractions without them.
Also, I think I was far too worried about my surroundings. I was too afraid of what the nurse would think of me if I groaned, etc. Speaking of nurses, ours were absolutely amazing. We were assigned one labor/delivery nurse for the duration of her shift, and she was incredible. She was cheerful, encouraging, and pretty much stayed out of the way unless I asked for her, or something needed to be checked, etc. She informed us that she used to be a truck driver (I know, right?) and she'd seen pretty much everything. She kept reassuring me that she was so thankful for a nice, normal couple! ha! I couldn't have asked for a better nurse. She really was more like a doula.
Finally around 6:30, I was dilated enough that they told me I could start pushing. This part, for me, was the worst. By this point, I was just so exhausted, and my pushing wasn't very effective. Again, first time, and I had no idea what I was doing. Also, I know that for a lot of Mamas, pushing actually makes them feel better. For me, with every push, it increased the pressure, and therefore pain. I was never one of those Moms who felt the "urge" to push. My sister finally arrived around this point too, and the poor thing had the same parking/running snafu that my Mom did! The only difference was, she was 6 months pregnant herself! I think she came into the room while I was in the middle of a contraction/pushing, and she was a little bit terrified. ;)
The nurses changed shifts at 7 am, but ours was kind enough to come back in, because she knew I was so close, and had been with me all night. She said she wanted to see the baby! Also, my doctor was part of a large practice, so when you are admitted to the hospital, you usually just have whoever is on call. God in his kindness that night had arranged for MY doctor to be there! It just so happened that her shift ended at 7 am also. Do you know, she was so awesome that she actually stayed late, to be there for the delivery? :)
Finally, I got to that point where I felt like a total failure - my pushing wasn't very effective, I was exhausted, and so discouraged; in spite of the fact that Nate, my Mom, and the nurses were so encouraging! I just felt like I couldn't do it anymore . . . and four minutes later:
My beautiful, perfect, sweet and sassy Olivia Grace was finally here!
She was so tiny, and so absolutely perfect. And do you know, I felt AMAZING. I just didn't want to let go. It was so different from any feeling I'd ever had before.
They put her on my chest, and Nate and I prayed over her, and thanked God for giving her to us.
At last, she was finally here. All those months of waiting and anticipation, of praying that her heart would beat strong, and her bones would be straight, and now here she was: in my arms.
They left her on my chest for a long time, and also helped me to try to nurse her right away. Have I mentioned how amazing the staff were? At last, it was time for her to get her big "welcome to the world" once over.
Daddy stayed with her the entire time. She didn't have any trouble letting everyone in the room know she was NOT pleased with being poked and carted around!
When Nate stood by the incubator and talked to her, stroking her hair, she stopped crying. I couldn't stop, though. ;)
Much as they might try, no one can ever describe for you, or prepare you for what happens to your heart when you become a mother.
Nothing can prepare you for the moment when you look into the eyes of the perfect miracle that is your child.
Though I'm writing this nearly four years later (how has it been that long already?!?), the emotions are still fresh. The memories vivid.
God has taught me to hold my children loosely. He holds their hearts, and their lives, and I have the privilege of stewarding them for a time. Yet - there is not a day that goes by that I don't thank him for this precious gift. This awesome responsibility of shepherding little souls, and watching his beautiful creations grow.
There is something so profound about labor and delivery: sacrificing my comfort, and my body - being willing to lay down my life for another - and knowing that God is using me as a vessel, however weak and frail, to bring forth new life. Birthing Olivia was not an easy road, but I am so thankful for the privilege I had to travel it.
All photos are by Today Everlasting Photography
All photos are by Today Everlasting Photography
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