There I was, sitting at my 42 week
appointment and talking about scheduling an induction so we would have
our baby before the new year. I saw the sense in the decision but it
wasn't the way I had planned it. It didn't sit perfectly well with me. I
knew this would change every aspect of my birth and so, with an
induction date of December 30th, I prayed that my baby would come soon.
Very soon.
Two days before I was induced I was
experiencing contractions along with a sore throat, nasal congestion and
stomach ache. A sleepless night followed with my phone in hand and my
contraction counter app on. But they weren't consistent and weren't
getting any closer. They stopped the next day for an hour so I called
the nurse and she said it was false labor and probably because I was
dehydrated from my cold. "Drink water and rest,” she said. I cried. I
was tired, and sick. I grabbed a heating pad, a fresh box of Kleenex and
the exercise ball before heading to the room. Contractions started
again 2 hours later and another sleepless night followed. I breathed
through every contraction and slept in between. At 5 o'clock I called in
for our induction and as soon as I got off the phone I had the most
extreme contraction yet, overwhelming all my senses. I knew I wouldn't
make it the entire day as I was not only achy from my fever and cold but
also worn out from the lack of sleep.
I knew that
when we had decided to be induced that I was giving up everything I had
hoped for during this birth. It wouldn't be drug free, I wouldn't be
able to give my babe the fresh, new, clean start to life that my heart
had ached for her to have. As soon as there was any intervention I would
no longer be able to trust my body or the signs that I needed to stay
away from pain medication. I was sick, dehydrated, and sleepless. I was
afraid if I tried it would end in a C section because I didn't have very
much physical strength left. My fear stopped me from trying.
On
that freezing Monday morning we walked into the hospital. I got into my
own gown and got IV'd up. Throughout the next few hours I went through
four bags of fluid, which was a sign of extreme dehydration, and a bag
of penicillin for the GBS which I had tested positive for. I was checked
and was already at 5. I had gotten to 5 on my own! My heart sang. When
the nurse offered me an epidural, I knew my answer was yes and I slept.
They tried to start a little bit of pitocin but the baby's heart beat
went up. After several hours my temperature rose as well and concern
grew for me and the baby. Tylenol was given, my temperature went back
down... I fell asleep again. I woke to feeling pressure which was so
encouraging. We labored down, and then started a tiny bit of pitocin
again, in hopes of seeing this baby soon.




At
eight I started to push. I pushed on my side, on my back, then on my
side again. Suddenly baby's heart beat went up and there was concern. My
fever came back and oxygen was given to me. Forty five minutes and E's
heart beat hit 200 during a push and the nurse told me to relax. She
left the room. "The doctor will be here soon and he will either do a
vacuum or a C section." I was determined to get this babe out before
they could do either of those. I gathered every bit of energy I had and
pushed.
I convinced myself I was making amazing progress and that
maybe I had changed their minds. The doctor finally arrived, he watched
and then decided we would be doing a vacuum. I felt defeated. My heart
broke, I was shaking and I couldn't stop the tears. I had come so far,
and I was thankful (even in that moment) that I wouldn't be going into
surgery, but this was too much for me to handle. B held me, told me it
would be okay, we were close, she was almost here. This was going to be
it. Either way I was moments away, and I held onto this thought. It was
enough, to knew I would see her soon. The next few minutes went by so
quickly, I didn't hear or know what was really going on. I just pushed.
I
felt the moment she left me and then saw her in all her perfect beauty.
These tears were tears of overwhelming joy. I took in every inch of her
in those few moments. I stole one glance at B and saw him beaming.
I
have no words that fully express how I felt but know that at that
moment it didn’t matter how we gotten there. I would have done it again
for this little life that I held. I would do anything because she was
our new everything.
Only
minutes passed and the room began to spin. I couldn't see straight and I
felt as if my insides were going to come up. Everything inside me
wanted to hold her longer and I told myself to calm down, but I couldn't
shake the feeling and lost focus. I frantically searched for B who was a
foot away and begrudgingly handed her off. Seeing him hold her was a
beautiful sight and the next best thing to her being in my arms. I tried
to relax and knew I would be able to hold her as soon as things calmed
down. Or so I had thought.



I
was thrown into confusion when the new nurses came in and spoke of
taking her to the NICU. We had agreed that she wouldn't leave the room,
that I would get to have her, that I could watch her, feed her, even
give her a bath. Now, however, they were taking her from me. This would
be the first time in 9 months this little life wouldn’t be near me.
Apart of me was missing. Our guests in the waiting room could only see
her through daddy's arms and for 10 minutes. They waited for me to be
stitched up, weighed her cute chubby body at 9lb. 9oz. and then let B
take her out as I watched from the bed. Grandma's and grandpa's were in
love and amazed at her tinniness and her perfection, and it all seemed
so perfect.




As
quickly as it had all happened he then handed her over to the nurses
and they whisked her away, my little lovie, to sit in a bassinet alone,
without a momma or a papa near. She had a fever and they were concerned
she was infected. Her tiny body would be connected to IV's and she would
get four doses and be in there for 48 hours until test results came
back. I felt so broken, so defeated, so weak, and so helpless. All I
could do was wonder why. Why had this happened? Why did I get sick, why
wasn't I strong enough, why did her entrance into the world have to be
so rough, imperfect, and unplanned?
I didn't have
enough strength to get out of bed until early the next morning. I got to
hold her, feed her and take in her scent. She filled me up, and I
realized that as I held her I healed. That the feelings of not being
good enough and not trying hard enough and the anger at God and my
surroundings that things didn't go my way were fading because of her
presence. She was apart of me but torn away through birth so to hold her
again was to complete me. And every time after I felt more complete.
The next 36 hours were spent sleeping, eating, and holding her in the
NICU, right across the hallway. The next day when she came into our room
I saw a peek into what our family now looked like as B held her and we
lived in that moment. It was perfection.
I
still remember every detail, every feeling and every moment of the
birth but standing away from it and looking back I see it differently
every day.
Daily God shows me what it is that He can teach me through this storm. He is good, and so we give our lives to show His glory. And this will show His glory my friends.
Tears
begin to flow when I think of how much I blamed Him instead of drew
from His strength during that time. He was there, and I know that He was
and always is my strength, my fortress, my cornerstone. Instead of
reading that labor book or the blogs on birth I know now that I should
have been in His word and presence.
There is no peace or rest in worry. Trusting in Him is greater then any birth plan.
My
sister and I have started a new study called Restless by the amazing
Jennie Allen. Three chapters in God spoke through her straight to my
heart, and as I read tears streamed down my face. She writes this as she
is sitting next to her best friend, in the hospital. Her best friend is
a mother to three, in the midst of a divorce and now so close to death.
In the midst of this Jenny cries out, "God, evil bows to you and yet it
seems to be flooding us. And this darkness bends to somehow reflect
your glory, but oh, the cost feels so high." And in the midst of this
storm, in the midst of my storm and yours this is God's reply:
"I have forgotten nothing. And I am not passive about my approach to this problem.
I deal. I deal with this sickness and pain and death.
I do not forget. I bleed out for this.
So
as you walk past me on that cross, into a room that feels out of
control and full of suffering, don't see a weak, distant, forgetful God.
You see a God who tells oceans where to stop and a God who tells evil where to stop.
You see a God who bleeds out for those you hurt for.
You see a God who suffered first. I AM with you.And I have a plan here."
And I was floored, tears streaming down my face I felt His amazing grace and His unending, undeserving love flood me.
I
believe, my friends, when we sit in front of our God and we are filled
with so many questions to ask He will reveal His glory, how awesome and
amazing He is and how His hand was holding us up during our struggles,
our trials, and our storms. We will stand in awe and amazement at his
pure and perfect love for us.
I was reading my blog post announcing the conception of our Evelyn, the other day and read this:
"As
I sat in the shower one morning praying over my belly, over a 6 week
old baby, tears ran down my face as I told God that above all I want His
glory to be shown through this little life. That no matter what that
meant for me as a mom or B as a dad we are here to show His glory. We
simply can not understand a God so big, mighty and wonderful. We give up
our rights to control every moment of this little life, and will guide
it in the ways that our parents guided us."
I
asked for it and prayed for it, and know that our God is faithful even
when I am not. He has already and will continue to write our story into
one that will show His glory.
I want to share one final quotes from Restless:
"So might He pour our lives out in difficult ways? Yes. But He is the God of planets and my soul. He gave everything for us. So I will entrust my entire life to no one else."
I have decided to share this part of our story. I have a
conviction to share. The only way for my humanity to understand why I
went through this is that it was meant to be shared, because hopefully
it will encourage. It took me weeks to write, and then a few more weeks
to even hit the word
PUBLISH but I just know that it is supposed to be out here so thank you for letting me share it and thank you for reading.