The Birth Of My Daughter

My daughter was born on November 21st, 2013. I carried her for 41 weeks and wanted to share my journey to becoming a mother for the 3rd time!

This journey began back in February. I felt "off" and was sure there some reason other than pregnancy. After all, we were taking measures to make sure we didn't get pregnant again. So my mind went to all sorts of ideas and I did a lot of research to find out why I'd be having these pregnancy symptoms and I not be pregnant. I found several things, and none of them were reassuring. Instead I found myself panicked and worried all the time.

Finally, I told my husband what I suspected to be true: that I was pregnant. He didn't want to believe it either, but immediately dashed out of the house to go grab several different kinds of pregnancy tests. It was late at night when I had told him, but I decided to take the test anyways. (FYI: it's best to take a pregnancy test in the morning, as that is when the hormones are most strong). Almost immediately after taking the first test, two little pink lines appeared. I about fainted. Literally.  Then I decided to take another brand of a pregnancy test. That one was where it says "Pregnant" or "Not pregnant."

After the appointed time, sure enough, blaring and bright, it said, "Pregnant."

I came out to the kitchen where my husband was cooking a late night snack and I just looked at him. Just by my look, he knew! I think we shed a few tears; happy and sad, to be completely honest. We weren't ready for another baby. There was a lot going on in our lives at the time and we weren't stable financially or spiritually. The overwhelming thought of having a baby in the middle of such a tumultuous time was almost too much for me.  Please no judging, but my reaction to this pregnancy wasn't probably what it was supposed to be. I kept asking God why me? Why did this have to happen right now? I began to dread telling my parents and anyone else for that matter. I cried. And cried. I can't imagine the burden and pain my hubby must have been feeling. Again, here comes vulnerability; I am ashamed to say I didn't really give him too much thought. Selfish? Yes. I'm sorry and wish I could go back and redo it all and be more supportive of him during this time.

I scheduled an appointment with one of those Christian Pregnancy Clinics that gives free ultrasounds and pregnancy tests. At what I thought would be 8 weeks of pregnancy, I went in for an ultrasound. There we saw our little baby, heart beating strongly and looking really good. But I still wasn't happy. I mean, deep inside I was happy to have another little one, but still overwhelmed at the same time. I don't want to go into a lot of detail as it's not really pertinent to this story, but to give a little back ground, I'll explain a little.

My husband was going to college full time and was in between jobs at the time. We did not have stable, constant income. So during the first few months of pregnancy, I was having panic attacks, and was eventually diagnosed with panic disorder and it took me until the 7th month of pregnancy to get that under control. God provided a great job for my husband at the beginning of August.  So I was constantly overwhelmed, upset, angry even. Because of my attitudes and struggles, I began to cause problems in our marriage. It just spun out of control. I tried to hold it together on social media and even within my closer, more personal relationships. I tried to act like everything was ok, but deep inside, the waters just boiled.

Back to my pregnancy, I would go through days of being extremely excited, and then I'd have days of being extremely sad and frustrated. I'd ask my hubby over and over "Why me?! Why is this happening right now?" I didn't want to be pregnant right then. I was overwhelmed and one day, I poured my heart out to a friend, who suggested I find a doula. I knew I'd never be able to afford a doula, so I sorta blew it off. But then I decided to ask around, to see if anyone was a student doula and wanted to come to my birth to help qualify for their certification. Almost immediately, I was contacted by the sweetest lady ever, Leslie. We met with her and I instantly liked her and felt comfortable around her. She is Christian and it just seemed we would mesh well. As the months passed and I got closer to labor and delivery, she became a constant source of encouragement and help.

Also, once I reached about 6 months of pregnancy, I started having symptoms of SPD (symphysis pubis dysfunction). It started out slow, and then by the time I delivered, I'd have days I could not walk, or move without extreme pain and would loose my balance, and fall. Sometimes I couldn't lift my foot to step over a small toy. I'd have days I couldn't get in or out of bed without help and often quite a bit of whimpering through the pain.

When I reached 37 weeks, I began to pray God would bring my daughter quickly into the world. Also, at 37 weeks, I began to have constant prodromal labor. Sometimes it was like sharp, "just there" Braxton Hicks, and sometimes it would feel like full blown labor and I would start timing contractions. Half the time I would be like, "This is IT!" And I'd excitedly text my hubby, who was at work (forgot to mention God blessed him with an awesome job that he loves, is in his line of work/study/college stuff and has tons of opportunity to advance and, if he wanted, he could probably retire from there). Then after 3-4 hours, the contractions would stop. My heart would go up through the clouds, in hopes that it was "it." And then it would come crashing down to earth again, when they would stop.

At 39 weeks, I had to go to the hospital after throwing up blood. I had been having issues with throwing everything up, including water, for weeks and weeks. Finally, after throwing up for so many weeks, over and over each day, I tore my esophagus. While I was there, they checked me, because I was contracting pretty strongly. I was dilated to 4 cm. I was really excited to know that, but also knew deep in my heart that being at a 4 meant nothing. With my last pregnancy, I had been dilated to a 4 for weeks...like 3-4 weeks, before going into labor. So I didn't get my hopes up too much.

Finally at 40 weeks, I sorta gave up on trying to "feel good." LOL. The prodromal labor was intense, and like I said before, I kept thinking I was in labor. I had several episodes of loosing my plug and quite a few bloody shows. Each time I would still get my hopes up. Then the 20th of November rolled around and I could tell a difference in the way I felt. I was extremely tired, restless, having lots of contractions and felt like she had dropped really low. So I got my birth ball out and began rolling around on it and I tried bouncing a few times, but it was too painful. My Mom had come down to help me out and so somewhere near 4 pm, I asked her if she'd watch the kids who were napping at the time, so I could take a nap. I laid down and got some good, restful sleep and didn't wake up till nearly 3 hours later. When I woke up, I realized the contractions felt different. They were causing a lot of pain in areas that pain hadn't really existed before. I could tell I was dilating further. But I still didn't get my hopes up too much. My midwife had mentioned to me weeks before that sometimes repeat moms could walk around at 5 cm and still not be in active labor, so I knew that dilating further still didn't mean I was in labor.

My husband came home around 10 pm from work and I told him that I felt different and that I thought this might really be it. Poor guy, I'd been telling him that for the past 2-3 weeks, and especially all day. He just smiled and reassured me that baby would come when it was time. I decided to text my doula and tell her that I was feeling different, but that I also felt my body was broken...why wouldn't my body just go into labor on it's own. I'd been struggling through the last weeks of pregnancy feeling like my body wasn't working. Why else would I be having all these struggles? Why all the pain, yet nothing was happening?! To say the least, I was frustrated. I posted on my FaceBook how frustrated I was and a friend and my doula both encouraged me to just relax, trust God and then my doula suggested a YouTube video. She suggested I watch it and follow the steps the video gave. So around 1 am, I finally took a bath to relax my muscles and try to see if the bath would calm the contractions any. I got my phone and played the video while I relaxed. I followed each step. I talked with my baby. I told her I was ready for her and she was wanted, needed and long waited for!

As I relaxed, I felt my body move her into a different position and I felt her even lower. I told my husband after the bath, that I felt that this really was it. I tried rolling around on the ball again, but it got too painful. My husband kept encouraging me to go to bed.

"Honey, you need rest if this is it. You'll need all the rest you can get so you can push." He kept telling me that over and over. So I finally took his suggestion and went to bed. But as soon as I'd barely drift off to sleep, a contraction would jerk me awake and I found myself not able to just grit my teeth through them, but I found myself moaning and then after 2 or 3 strong surges, I found myself gripping the planks of the bed. I slid out of bed and went out to the living room where my husband was. I told him I couldn't sleep, that the contractions were too strong. By this time, it was near 2 or 3 am, I believe. My husband turned on Hillsong/Kari Jobe/Jesus Culture for me to relax and listen to. I texted my doula (I think...everything sorta becomes blurred here, so forgive me if things become a bit jumbled or out of order!!) and told her I really thought I was in labor and I started timing the contractions. They were coming between 2-3 minutes apart and lasting about 30-45 seconds each. Some of them reaching 1 minute. My instinct was to sit on my birthing ball, even though it was really painful. I would grip the coffee table with each surge (I had tipped the coffee table up on it's end and was sorta holding onto the legs each time I had a surge). I didn't want to be touched, so my husband just stood/sat near by, encouraging me with each surge.

Finally around 4 am my husband told me we needed to call the midwives. I agreed. My sweet hubby! He's such a trooper, dealing with me during this time. He'd been asking me to call the midwives for almost 2 hours by that point. I am pretty sure he was relieved I finally agreed to call them. So I told my doula we were calling the midwives and would be headed to the birth center very soon. She told me that she would get ready and then go pick up Brianna (a sweet woman and student doula!) and would meet us up there. My midwife agreed to meet us up there and said she'd be there about 5:15 am.

We got there a few minutes before everyone else and I just kept having surges over and over. We got in the door and my midwife, Kristine, offered to check me. I was very anxious to know how far along I was, because deep inside, I still feared that this was just a false alarm. So I agreed to the check. I remember saying something about hoping I wasn't still at 4 cm. I heard her say, "You're definitely not at a 4 anymore." A few minutes later, after a surge ended, I asked my doula how far along I was. She told me I was dilated to a 9 on one side and 6 on the other. The midwife suggested lunges or laying on the side that still needed to dilate. I didn't feel like laying down and lunges were wayyyy too painful, so my midwife offered for me to get into a tub of warm water. I took her up on the offer immediately!

I eased myself into the water and the relaxation was heavenly! I felt wonderful...for a few minutes. :)

Then the surges started getting stronger and stronger and I became more and more vocal. My doula, Leslie, reminded me to "breathe" and to "go low" with my moaning. Trust me, when you're in the throws of labor, "going low" is very hard! At least for me. I wanted to squeal like a new born pig. But the more "low" I went, the more control I had over my pain level and the more I felt at peace.

As I progressed, I remember laying my head to one side, near my husband and looking him in the eye and saying, "I don't want to do this anymore. I want an epidural." I think I might have heard a few people giggle... If you're in the birthy world at all, you'll know that a woman is pretty close to delivering when she starts saying that and other things, like, "I just want to go home," or "Make this stop," or "I'll just keep this baby inside for a while. I'm not ready for this." Etc. But in the moment, I didn't remember any of that.

After about 1 hour of the tub, I began to get really hot, so they suggested I move out and get onto the bed. I walked quickly, with lots of help, to the bed and got on all fours. (My preferred way of laboring at the time, I guess!) I began to roar through each contraction. And I kept feeling like I was close, but wasn't feeling the urge to push. After a few minutes of roaring through contractions, my midwife asked me if I wanted to just try pushing. So I gave it a try (at 7:26 am exact) and felt my baby girl move down into the canal and began to feel the ring of fire almost immediately. I always get excited at my births when I feel the ring of fire, because I know I'm almost there. The endorphins were at an all time high and pushing actually felt good. (if "good" is the word to use? In all reality, the pain slips away for me during that point in labor and all I can focus on is that my baby is moments away from being in my arms!!!!)

I pushed again and her head was out! I pushed again and her shoulders got a little stuck, so they helped me get my leg into a position that would make for more room, so she could easily come out. I pushed again and I felt her slide out at 7:31 am! They put her between my legs and I saw her for the first time! Oh the joy! Oh the relief! And her cute little face just melted my heart. All the fears of becoming a mother again, and the frustration I'd had with God and myself during the whole pregnancy melted away. I felt God reassuring me that He was in control and that this little bundle that was squirming and beginning to cry in front of me was going to be a blessing in my life.

I looked over at my husband who was right next to me and said, "We DID IT!" There were tears in his eyes. We rubbed her little chest and saw her respond to us. The midwives helped me get settled and we curled up to cuddle our little one and get to know her. It was just awesome! I remember looking at the clock and feeling so relieved that the whole process only lasted 2 hours (pretty much) since arriving at the birth center. God was so faithful to me and gave me, once again, a dream birth.

My heart is so full of thankfulness to God. Throughout my whole pregnancy, I did a lot more complaining to God about it, than being thankful to Him for it. As I look back over the whole pregnancy; the stress, the job situation, the finances, the panic attacks, the health issues, the pain...everything, I see God's hand guiding, leading, holding, protecting and most of all, loving me. So often in the middle of crisis, or what we perceive as a crisis, we can't see anything beyond it. But all along, through it all, God is orchestrating something beautiful. He is creating something inside of us. If we allow Him to mold us on His Potters Wheel, we can become something beautiful, useful and lovely. Each experience we go through is His training camp for something He has planned for us. God will never lead us where His grace cannot keep us.

So there is the lonnnngggggg version of my pregnancy and birth. I hope I can condense this down...but I wanted to document everything in detail, because I know God did something in my heart during my pregnancy and birth and I hope it can encourage someone else. You don't have to be perfect. You can even question, be angry at and frustrated at God, yet He will still show His faithfulness to you. He doesn't require you to be perfect. He knows you're human. He knows you may not understand. But make it your goal to not stay in that "human" state of questioning, anger and frustration. Work on trusting Him. Give Him the reigns. It's hard. I think so often during the past 9 months, I would "give" the reigns to Him, only to grab them back a little while later. Our human nature wants to be in control, but ultimately, God is the One Who is in control and it's best to just trust Him, lean back and relax. Enjoy the ride. It's a ride you'll never forget, never regret and be changed by, if you allow it!