It is amazing to me the way that God’s providence is so
evident in hindsight, especially in circumstances where it was hard to see
while in the midst of a particular event.
In relation to Ellison’s birth, God’s gracious and meticulous control of
the timing of everything is the thing that has struck me the most. For the delivery of baby number three, my big
prayer was that I would be able to go into labor naturally without needing to
be induced, and that I would be able to go through the process of labor
naturally without needing an epidural. I
know some of you think that’s crazy, but based on how smoothly my previous
deliveries had gone, I really felt strongly this time that I wanted to go the
“all-natural” route. I had read up on
every possible method of helping to facilitate this, but ultimately I knew it
wasn’t totally in my hands because, let’s face it, I can’t make contractions
start. Because of my gestational
diabetes (which I’ve had in all three pregnancies), I knew all along that the
OBGYN midwives would ultimately decide when I would need to be induced, if
labor had not yet started on its own. Up
until about week 38, I had been told that my due date, Saturday, May 4, would
be the day to plan on being induced. On
Thursday, May 2, I had my final checkup with my midwife. Everything was looking great with baby, and
her size was measuring right on track (not huge). I was already 4cm dilated, and I had my
membranes stripped to possibly help labor start. My midwife felt certain that my labor would
start naturally before the weekend, but we needed to go ahead and schedule an
induction in case it came to that. I was
pleasantly surprised when instead of Saturday, she recommended TUESDAY
morning! I was stunned that she was so
willing to let me go past my due date by three days, as this had never been
presented as an option up until this moment.
I left the office happy and confident that we were probably going to
have a baby the next day. Upon arriving
home, I did all the things that are recommended to help labor start naturally,
including walking a mile through the neighborhood and doing some yoga.
Friday arrived. I
walked another mile through the neighborhood.
Rob had a sore throat and decided to make an appointment with the doctor
to have it checked out. I assumed it was
just related to seasonal allergies. I
rode with him to his appointment, expecting that we would leave there and go
wander the aisles of Target to get some more walking in without having to be
out in the heat. The doctor’s
appointment was quick because Rob immediately tested positive for strep
throat. Our efforts at trying to start
labor came to a screeching halt. Rob
would need to be on antibiotics for a full 48 hours before he would no longer
be considered contagious. Our fear, of
course, was that if I went into labor within these 48 hours, he may not be
allowed into the delivery room. (In
reality, I have no idea if this is the case, but it seemed plausible.) This is when my emotions began to roller
coaster like crazy. We returned home for
the day, with Rob quarantined in our bedroom, and me basically sitting around
trying NOT to go into labor. Rob’s
parents picked up the kids from school to keep them until at least Sunday to
help prevent anyone else from getting sick.
Saturday was another day of sitting around the house.
Sunday, Rob was feeling much better, and it had been nearly
48 hours, so he decided to go to church.
I decided to stay home, as my introverted self couldn’t stand the
thought of having to answer the same questions over and over… “You’re still pregnant?!”…
“When are you gonna have that baby?!” etc.
My emotional state could not have handled it that day. Rob’s parents brought the kids to church and
afterward went to the minute-clinic where they, too, tested positive for
strep. Holy cow.
Sunday night/Monday morning, my throat started feeling
tight. On a normal day, I would have
ignored it, thinking again that it was allergy related, but in this case, I
wanted to be on the safe side. I
scheduled a doctor’s appointment to get tested for strep. The earliest appointment available was 11:30
Monday, but as there were no signs of labor at this point, time of day didn’t
seem to matter. I went to the
appointment, tested negative (praise Jesus), and was put on antibiotics as a
precautionary measure, in case I was actually in the early stages of strep.
I got in the car to leave the appointment at noon and
realized I was starting to have contractions.
The REAL kind, not the Braxton Hicks I had been having for weeks. I started timing with the digital clock in my
car as I drove home. They were seven
minutes apart and intense enough that I winced a little with each one. I came home and informed Rob and kept timing,
thinking we would probably be staring at the timer for the better part of the
afternoon. Seven minutes apart quickly
turned into two-and-a-half! 30-seconds
long… 40-seconds… 50-seconds… 1-minute.
We live 30 minutes from the hospital, so we decided the smart thing to
do was to at least go ahead and get to St. Augustine. I didn’t want to check into the hospital too
soon because I didn’t want to be strapped to monitors all day, so we discussed
the idea of going somewhere close to the hospital to walk around a bit. By the time we had driven the distance though,
that idea was out the window. Labor was
coming on FAST, so we went straight to L&D at the hospital. Upon arrival at 2:00, I was at least 7-8cm
dilated, although the nurse couldn’t be sure because she didn’t want to risk
breaking my water while checking. Contractions
were now intense enough it was work to walk down the hall to my next
destination. I was set up in a delivery
room, attached to the monitor, given an I.V. port, and Rob procured the
birthing ball I had requested. (I had
told him I wanted all the props that were available, but we only had time or
need for the ball at this point!)
Contractions were coming strong and fast. I sat and rocked on the birthing ball while
Rob gave counter-pressure on my lower back.
My midwife Amy checked in with me and said she’d be in the hall staying
out of my way until I needed her. (She
also was great about getting me detached from the monitor, even though I had
been told I would need continuous monitoring the whole time. I love how she trusted her gut rather than
protocol.) Rob and I went through a few
more rounds of contractions on our own on the birthing ball. I don’t know how many, but it seemed like
only a few minutes had passed before I felt like it was time to get ready to
push. This is the part of labor that I
had not ever experienced before due to my epidurals. It is wild how your body just knows what to
do! In my case, instead of just feeling
pressure internally, it was like I could feel baby Ellison’s head pushing onto
the birthing ball! We buzzed for the
midwife; she and the nurses burst through the door and set up the room for
delivery in a flash! I was ready to
go. Amy thought she might break my water
to help things along, but we were already past that being an option, as all she
could feel was baby. I had done my
research on birthing positions, and I knew I didn’t want to lie on my back, so
I used a position I had read about that looked the most useful and supported. Again, I was incredibly pleased that Amy was
supportive of me giving birth in whatever way I felt comfortable. With the delivery bed in a fully-upright
position (like a chair), I knelt on the bed, facing the upright part and using
it for support. It was surprisingly
perfect. It was just the right height
for me to hook my arms over the top edge for support. In a matter of minutes (maybe four
contractions), my water broke and soon after Ellison was born! The contractions and pushing were physically
intense, but I was surprised at how mentally alert I felt. I remember giving myself a little mental
pep-talk after thinking it felt like baby wasn’t going to fit! She, of course, did, because the female body
is amazingly designed for birth. She was
passed up to me where I held her moist newborn body up against my chest. As soon as the delivery process was over, I
was amazed at how I felt. Rather than
being overwhelmed with pain, I felt empowered by what I had just done. Yes, I was a bit sore from all that hard
work, but it was so much more positive of an experience than I had ever
expected. I don’t want to gloss over it
and make it sound like it was easy or pain free. That’s not the case. Labor is intense, no matter how your
experience goes. Mine just happened to
be fast and furious! I believe going
into labor naturally without being induced and having an unmedicated birth
helped my body do exactly what it was designed to do. I was able to listen to its cues and do what
it needed. The hormones and oxytocin and
adrenalin that flood a woman’s brain during labor are also pretty stinking
amazing and do a great job of helping you to kind of forget the intensity of
the pain you’ve just been through. My
recovery from this birth has also gone faster and easier than my previous
two. I give some of that credit to the
fact that my body is more experienced with the birthing process now than it was
as a brand new mom, but I also think going all-natural helped, as well. I am incredibly thankful for this experience
going the way that it did, and I could not have dreamed of it going any
better.
